#and their fighting and yelling and fist-shaking confused the hell out of me
ok i just NEED to know...
what do you guys think were some of the things the dwarves were yelling when they all got upset after gandalf didn’t “give a number” for how many dragons he had killed
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someone i once knew : b.b - p.6
now that your memories are resurfacing, it’s finally time for bucky to get the answers to his questions and to see you, the real you once more. (4.1k)
oh my goodness, this is it?! a quick non soppy thank you for reading, but seriously all of your comments, feedback and excitement have made writing this series so joyful for me, so thank you and i hope you like the last part!
PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX (THE ENDING)
(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)
WARNINGS: mentions of hospitals, references to bucky’s ‘death’ in CATFA, blood, angst - i think that’s it!
masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
Bucky ignored everyone as he stormed through the compound once he got off the jet. He didn’t care about the warnings being yelled at him, all he could hear were the words you uttered before you were taken away. ‘I remember.’
“Buck, wait,” Steve grabs Bucky by the shoulder, forcing him to a halt as he stares at Steve coldly. “she’s still fragile, Fury needs to see us, now.” Steve states, watching as the rage in Bucky’s gaze melt into sadness.
“I need to see her, Steve.” Bucky pleads as Steve lowers his hand from his friend.
“I know,” Steve sighs. “but she’s in good hands, the sooner we speak with Fury, the sooner you can see her.”
Opening your eyes, you blink rapidly as a series of faces greet you, all wearing bright smiles. “Hello, Y/n.” Someone steps forward, dressed in all black and with an eye patch covering one eye.
“No no, don’t try and talk just yet.” The man states as he glances over his shoulder to the woman with a device in hand, tapping away at it whilst you watch in confusion. “I’m sorry to say it has been longer than it should’ve been since your last check-in.” He explains as you furrow your brows, remaining quiet. “We are aware that they are supposed to be every few years, but there was an accident involving Howard Stark.”
Your heart drops into your stomach, Howard, your dear friend who has helped you through all of this. “Is he?” You mutter, your voice is hoarse as the man simply nods.
“Due to Stark’s demise, it has taken us years to have access to your chamber.” He continues to explain, stepping away and past a group of people, strangers from those you knew whilst you remain inside your chamber.
“Years?” You ask, still tied up inside the chamber. Usually, once your eyes opened you would be released, allowed to walk with Howard and Peggy if she was available; but this feels wrong, somethings changed. “How long?”
The man pauses as he turns back to face you. “The year is 2011.”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you look over at all of the people before you. “No, no that’s not possible.” You breathe out, feeling your chest tighten as you fight in the restraints keeping you inside the chamber. “It was 1989!” You state, but the man simply turns away from you. “It was 1989.” You repeat under your breath as three men approach you, one with a needle in hand and without warning, plunges it into your forearm.
“You’ll be safe, Y/n.” The man tells you as your vision blurs once more until your head rolls forward.
“Take a seat, Sargent, Captain.” Fury directs them both into the room, seeing Tony already sat, waiting for them.
Sitting down apprehensively, Bucky remains perched on the edge of his seat, hearing the plates in his metal arm whir loudly as he clenches his fist. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Fury who spares a glance at Maria, watching her close the door to the conference room.
“Are you finally going to explain what you know about my assistant and what the hell is going on here?” Tony asks, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on the table.
“Yes, we will.” Fury starts and Maria hands out a file from SHIELD, dated back to the late 40′s.
Taking the file in his grasp, Bucky eyes it carefully, noticing your name etched into the cover.
“What is this?” Steve questions whilst Tony and Bucky open their files, a photograph of you clipped onto the front page.
Running his thumb over the image, Bucky remembers being there for that photo. You had just gotten your summer dress, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. A photographer captured your smile as you walked into the hall for the weekend dance, Bucky right behind you, just out of shot.
“This is Subject 359 from Project Revive.” Fury presses a button on the tablet in front of him, revealing a projection of photos, showing you stood alongside Howard Stark and Peggy Carter, images causing heartache for the three men. “Miss Y/l/n volunteered herself after the war for an initiative to suspend life.”
“She went into cryo?” Bucky speaks up, sadness etches his tone as he focuses on your bright smile in the photo of you in between Howard and Peggy.
“She did, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/l/n was Howard’s first subject to succeed in the trials, and was put into the induced state for organised periods of time and then awoken to ensure she was still healthy in all respects.”
More images flash up, showing both Peggy and Howard getting older, but you remaining youthful between the two.
Steve can’t help but feel his heart sinking at the sight of Peggy, the years he’ll never have with her, the forgotten time as a golden band remains on her ring finger.
“So how come she doesn’t remember anything?” Tony breaks his silence, tearing his eyes from the images of his dear old Dad to focus on Fury whose frown only deepens.
The projection disappears as Fury rises to his feet before pointing to Bucky. “The winter soldier happened.”
Bucky lowers the file from his grip as he watches Fury carefully. He remains quiet, too afraid of what will be said next.
“After the winter soldier executed Howard and Maria Stark, access to the chamber Y/l/n was held in was restricted.” Fury explains, now looking over to Tony who lowers his feet from the table and sits upright.
“That’s why you needed me.” Tony can’t help but scoff. “You took my DNA.”
“Howard was a smart man, but he knew his systems could easily be overridden by someone more intelligent in the future. So he ensured the only way the chamber holding Y/n could be accessed was by his own bloodline.”
Tony laughs quietly under his breath. “Tony,” Steve starts, but Tony carries on.
“God, Dad truly had a reason for everything didn’t he?” Tony remarks. “Too bad he wasn’t alive to see what a car crash he created.” He jokes, leaning forward to glare at Bucky whose head remains buried in his hands.
“It’s all my fault.” Bucky mutters. “Everything, after all this time.” He slowly sits upright as all eyes remain locked on him like a target.
“Not necessarily, Sargent.” Maria speaks up from the sidelines. “You see, Y/n had been left in cryo for just over two decades when we finally got to her. She was disorientated, and had missed an entire segment of history, the turn of the century, evolution of technology and much more.”
“So, we did what was written according to Howard, which Y/n had agreed upon if the time came.” Fury adds. “We took her to Wakanda, and suppressed her memories.”
Bucky shakes his head, throwing your file aside as he stands up. “No, she would never do that!” He yells, slamming his metal fist into the table causing it to split.
Remaining unphased, Fury carries on. “She did, Sargent. Look in her file and see for yourself.”
Bending down, Bucky picks the file up and skims through the various pages, past your health reports and to a legal document where your signature remains inked on the bottom of the page.
“Y/n Y/l/n was a broken woman after the loss of her best friend and fiance. She trusted those that were left behind and put herself into their hands, knowing she would be making a difference and aid the future of science and medicine.” A fraction of a smile forms on Fury’s face. “But bringing her into the twenty-first century meant changes had to be made in her mind. Memories had to be rewritten and others to be permanently hidden.”
“So how come she’s now remembering?” Tony asks. “And how come she ended up here, as my assistant of all people?” He huffs loudly.
Fury spares a glance to Hill who nods, before exiting the room. “Y/n was always going to have a job of some descript within SHIELD.” Fury paces around the room as the three pairs of eyes burn into his every move. “However, when Y/n returned from her time in Wakanda, after her memories had been rewritten we got in touch offering her a job opportunity which would lead to being Tony's assistant. What we didn’t expect during that time were two super soldiers to resurface from the dead.” Fury motions to both Steve and Bucky.
“So they triggered it?” Tony pieces the details together, pointing the blame to Bucky who tenses under Fury’s cold gaze.
“It seems that way. But now that she’s remembering, the details of the life she has supposedly had all these years are fading away. She’ll be confused for a while, but the memories implanted can be removed.”
“She can forget about that life?” Bucky questions quietly, having heard you briefly discuss memories of the life you never truly lived with such vividness. “She’ll only remember the life she lived with us?”
“Yes, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/n Y/l/n will be the same girl you left in the 40′s, give or take some level of trauma.”
“Can I see her then?” The question leaves his lips instantly, barely allowing Fury to take a breath.
Yet, Bucky watches the glances exchanged between the other men, the uncertainty in their expressions whilst Bucky remains still.
Steve slowly stands up and pats Bucky’s arm, giving him a knowing smile before heading toward the door, Tony right behind him who doesn’t spare Bucky a glance.
Now alone with Fury, Bucky can feel his body tensing under Fury’s scrutiny. “Is there something else I’m supposed to know?” Bucky tries to remain composed as his leg bounces beneath the table, his foot repeatedly hitting the floor.
“Y/n will be unconscious, in a comatose state for the next week or so.” Fury explains, watching as Bucky sinks into his seat. “It’ll take time, Sargent, for her to recover from this.”
“But she’ll be Y/n.” Bucky comments, watching Steve and Tony walk in separate directions past the glass screens of the conference room without looking back.
Fury reaches down beside him, lifting up a metal briefcase. “Before you go, Barnes,” Fury unlocks the latches on the case, lifting the lid up. “there’s something you might like back.”
Bucky raises a brow as Fury reaches inside the case, taking something out and places it on the table.
Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Bucky doesn’t trust his legs to work properly as he eyes the small box. “I, I never thought I’d see that again.” Bucky admits, a tired chuckle following.
“We kept it as per Y/n’s wishes.” Fury remarks, sliding the box across the table as Bucky grasps it in his flesh hand, opening the lid to reveal his prized possession, unable to forget the memories laced around the diamond ring.
Smiling at the jewel, Bucky closes the lid to the velvet box and places it into his pocket. “Thank you.” Bucky mutters. “For looking after her.”
“Y/n has been SHIELDS best-kept secret for almost 6 decades, Barnes.” Fury comments. “It’s about time she’s allowed another chance at living, don’t you think?”
Nodding to himself, Bucky pushes his chair back, hearing it scrape along the wooden floorboards.
“One more thing,” Fury interrupts as Bucky reaches for the door handle. “none of it was your fault, Bucky.”
Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Bucky focuses on Fury as he remains straight-faced, but reaches forward, bringing the projection back up of you, Howard and Peggy.
“I hope she knows that too.” Bucky thinks aloud as he opens the door, closing it behind him before he can hear Fury’s response.
Watching the former soldier walk down the corridor, Fury sighs deeply as he removes the projection. “I’m sure she will.” He closes the empty briefcase, knowing that this is the end of Project Revive, once and for all.
Hanging from the railing, Bucky could hear Steve screaming his name, his arm outstretched for him to grab.
The wind was hurtling at his body full speed as his fingers began to slip from the rails, but he knew he had to make it, he couldn’t leave you for the second time and not come home.
Steve began to climb down from the train, moving across the broken frame toward Bucky, stretching his arm. “Just hang on!” Steve yells, fear rising through his tone as the bolts of the railing Bucky is grasping onto begin to creak, pulling away from the metal lining of the wall.
“Steve, I,” Bucky calls out, moving along the rail closer to his friend.
“Grab my hand, come on!” Steve cries out, knowing he can save him, he has to save his best friend. “Come on, Buck.” He mutters, thinking back to the morning before they left, seeing you in Bucky’s arms with the ring on your finger, a whole future for you both awaiting to be lived.
Looking up in desperation, Bucky cannot stop the scream leaving his lips as the railing breaks as his body becomes weightless, his arm still outstretched as he falls.
Steve screams as Bucky cries, falling through the air toward the ground at full speed.
The train carries on, turning a corner leaving Bucky truly alone as Steve breathes heavily, his heart has broken into pieces as his best friend is gone.
Lying in the snow, Bucky can feel his breaths slowing, life draining from his body as the white ice surrounding him is turning crimson. “Y/n,” He breathes out, looking up at the bare branches reaching for one another from different trees. “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his eyes begin to dip, just as several men appear above him.
Panting heavily, Bucky looks over to the clock on his bedside table. 7 in the morning, again.
He buries his face into his hand, feeling guilt course through his body knowing you’re awake and he has yet to see you. Part of him was nervous to see who you’ve become and whether you’re still the same girl he loved and lost all those years ago. Or if you’re this new version that he knew as Tony’s assistant, one who views him as the former winter soldier, not James Barnes.
Playing with the ring in his fingertips, Bucky walks toward the medical wing within the compound, already hearing laughter sounding from the room causing his heart rate to spike.
“She was amazing, truly.” You tell Steve, resting your hand over his as he tries to stop tears falling from his eyes. “And she was happy in the end, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Steve mutters, wiping his eyes. “but she seriously punched Howard for not taking Maria on a date sooner?” He asks again as you nod, gentle laughs sounding from you both as Bucky hovers behind the entrance, a wall of apprehension stopping him from entering.
“Do, do you think he’ll visit?” It’s almost whispered as you look down at your marked hands, scratches and dark bruises now littering your skin.
Hearing faint movements from the doorway adjacent to your bed, Steve smiles to himself for a split second. “Why’d you think he wouldn’t?”
Bucky leans closer against the doorway, his heart hanging together by a mere thread as you shakily sigh. “I just, what if I’m not who he remembers or even wants in his life?”
Ever since your memories flooded your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering what he’d think of you.
“I’ve been awake for two days, Steve,” You add, doubt clouding your mind as Steve silently prays for Bucky to just walk in. “and, and he hasn’t been yet I just, I,” You stumble over your words, eyes locked on the sheets covering your body as you remain unaware of Bucky turning the corner, walking toward you.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky quietly calls out, standing still in the entranceway with the box now in his pocket, out of sight as he clasps both hands together, flesh into metal.
Your hand slips from Steve’s as you force yourself further up the bed, itching to climb out.
“I wouldn’t do that, you know what Bruce said.” Steve reminds you, yet you tear the sheets from your body and uneasily rise to your feet.
“Since when did that stop me, huh?” You joke back, Bucky unable to stop himself from smiling at your playful antics with Steve, giving him a glimpse of what he once knew.
Moving closer to one another, you both can’t help but note the changes. Your gaze hovers to his metal arm, the black plates etched with gold leading to his shoulder, his long hair and stubble lining his jaw. But he still had the same loving blue eyes, even if you could see the pain lingering behind them.
Yet, Bucky could still see it’s you. Despite the bruising and cuts across your skin, you hadn’t changed one bit.
“James?” You speak up, too afraid to reach out as your hands remain by your sides.
“Y/n.” Bucky responds softly, taking a step closer as Steve watches from the sidelines, having never anticipated seeing this moment happen after he saw Bucky fall from the train all those years ago.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” You ask sadly as tears begin to fall across your cheeks.
Taking another step toward you, Bucky lifts his arm up to brush the tears from your face. His hand shakes as he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to cup your cheek in his hand.
Closing your eyes, you rest your hand over his as he holds back the sob in his throat. “It’s me, doll.” Bucky whispers as you squeeze his hand, not wanting to let go. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He breathes out, knowing no words can truly describe the past sixty years, not yet at least.
“I’ve missed you so much, James.” You try to compose yourself, knowing it’s no use as you look up at him, the man you’ve loved. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Chuckling sadly, Bucky nods in agreement. “I thought the same until I heard you playing the piano the other week.”
“Wake and dream medley.” You remember it, having danced many a time with him at his Mother’s house, twirling around the living room whilst Rebecca laughed with you as Bucky dipped you and dropped you by accident. “I, I,” Stumbling over your words, Bucky glances over to Steve.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Steve speaks up. “But it’s good to see you both, together after all this time.” He adds sincerely before stepping out of the room whilst Bucky guides you back toward the hospital bed, knowing you still need your rest even if you deny it.
“You’ve read my file, Y/n,” Bucky sighs. “I, I’m not the same man you knew.” He looks away, still cautious of himself, of his own mind. “There are things that I’ve done that I’m afraid of you learning about.”
Unable to take your eyes off him, you take hold of his metal arm with both your hands, gliding your fingertips over the cool metal as the plates whir into place.
And then the last thing Bucky anticipates hearing causes his ears to perk up. You giggle, a smile growing across your lips as you shuffle closer into Bucky’s embrace.
“I know James,” You tell him, lifting his arm to rest around you as you lean against his chest, inhaling the scent that was a foreign memory intertwined with old pillows after he left for war. “but I want you to know, I’ll love you, whoever you are or whoever you turn out to be. Nothing, and I mean nothing will change that.” You assure him, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.
“You still love me?” He breathes out, trying to disguise the evident surprise in his tone, but you quickly move from his embrace, staring at him with sorrow in your gaze as your brows furrow together.
“You think I could ever have stopped?” You retort.
“Doll,” Bucky starts, but you shake your head.
“Why would you think I would’ve stopped, or possible could?” A scoff sounds from you as Bucky lowers his gaze to the marble tiles on the floor, shame overcoming his mind.
“James, for years I mourned you, I strove for a better future, dealing with losing you and Steve. My parents were gone, I had no one left besides myself.” You explain, fighting through your emotions that have been suppressed with your memories for so long. “In all that time, not once did I ever stop loving you, even if you were gone.”
“I was never very good at loving you though, Y/n.” Bucky admits. “We both know that I, I left you, twice. Both times with the promise of coming home.”
“And you did.” You comment, resting your hand on his stubbled cheek as Bucky glances up, seeing a shy smile form on your face. “You’re here now, we both are.” You chuckle in disbelief. “By some means, we’re both here, in the twenty first century, alive.”
“Never thought I’d live to see the turn of the century, let alone live in it completely.” Bucky jokes, hearing you laugh quietly. “Will, will you still have me then, Y/n?” He asks softly as he reaches into his pocket, revealing the small velvet box.
Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of it. “They gave it back to you?” You ask in disbelief, feeling the corners of your lips bury further into your cheeks whilst Bucky nods.
“And now I’m giving it back to you, its rightful owner.” Bucky states, lifting the lid revealing the ring, your ring. “That is, if you’d still like it, doll?” He apprehensively asks.
Yet, you roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from huffing in response. “Are you seriously asking me that?” You remark, and Bucky blinks for a moment. “And like this? Come on, Buck, at least give it a little class.” You joke, only ever calling him ‘Buck’ in times of relief.
Moving from off of the bed, Bucky grunts as he kneels down in front of you on one knee. “Y/n Y/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, my doll and my best friend forevermore?” His words mirror those he uttered decades ago in that old dance hall, and yet they still roll off his tongue with the same ease.
Following his action, you lower yourself from the bed, Bucky reaches out to support your waist as you kneel in front of him. “Yes,” You smile. “and I guess this time, forever means forever, huh?”
“You’re stuck with me doll,” Bucky jokes as you lean closer, your lips ghosting his.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, James.” You whisper, closing the distance between you both as you kiss him, the sensation of coming home after all this time hitting you like a ton of bricks as you wrap your arms around him, wishing to never let him go.
“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.
Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.
“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.
“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.
“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.
And after all this time, Bucky was right, you had found him; only to discover he’d been there all along.
T H E E N D
(thank you to the following for all the love on the series - i couldn’t have done it without your support :) )
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Gunmen at school force Peter to act;
Fortunately, it’s after school hours, and the only ones in the library are the Academic Decathlon Team.
Unfortunately, the gunmen are targeting them specifically, due to the kidnap and ransom opportunities involved in this particular group of kids. One of whom is the son of a prominent lawyer, and another who was recently publicly outed as Tony Stark’s personal intern.
It’s after hours, and the acadec team have a meeting in the library. The school stays open for student access until 6pm, and it was approaching that time as they begin packing up after their session.
Only a few members of the team were there (Peter, Ned, MJ, Flash, Betty, and Abe), as well as Mr Harrington, who was there more in a supervisory capacity (though he was slouched on a beanbag having a well deserved nap. He was happy to just let them get on with it).
Flash had been leaving Peter alone in recent weeks. The glaring had definitely gotten worse, but the mocking had stopped almost entirely.
A mix up with timings and press and being in the wrong place at the wrong time (that damned Parker Luck), meant that Peter had accidentally been outed as an intern working directly under Tony Stark. Peter himself hadn’t really been hiding it around his friends, but Tony had been trying to keep all knowledge of him out of the media. The last thing he wanted was to put Peter or his Aunt in a spotlight, elevating them in to a much higher “kidnap risk” category.
Unfortunately they had failed at that (though Tony made sure that Aunt May’s apartment was filled with hidden panic buttons, and that she had his lawyers on call in case of harassment).
The six of them were packing away their things. Flash was grumbling at all the wrong answers he had gotten, and Abe was joking about leaving Mr Harrington asleep to see if he would still be there in the morning. Going by the bags under his eyes, it wouldn’t be surprising.
Suddenly, Peter feels a shiver run up his neck. He frowns and straightens his back, alert, and Ned gives him a worried look as the others bustle around them, not noticing their abrupt withdrawal from the conversation.
His hearing picks up boots moving in from the other side of the school. Slower than a walking pace... someone was trying to sneak. Peter’s head snaps to the door and he feels a gentle tug on his sleeve as Ned whispers:
“Dude, what is it? You’ve got that look. Is something about to happen?”
The footsteps are getting closer and Peter hushes Ned quietly, before doing so again louder, for the whole group.
Abe speaks up loudly:
“Come on, I was only joking about leaving him asleep-”
MJ interrupts him, quiet but forceful:
“Abe, shut up.”
She looks to Peter expectantly (yes of course she knows about Spiderman) and frowns at his serious expression.
He puts a finger to his lips and gestures for them to stay where they are as he walks slowly towards the door. Flash speaks up, almost yelling:
“What the hell are you doing, Penis?”
Mr Harrington wakes with a start at that and lets out a snort before freezing in place (looking very confused) as Peter whisper-shouts back:
“Shut the hell up! I think someone’s coming.”
Flash raises his eyebrows, and goes to retort, but is interrupted by Betty whispering:
“There are no other clubs on at the moment, no one should be here. It’s probably just a teacher or a security guard or something right?”
Peter shakes his head almost imperceptibly as he continues to make his way to the door.
Mr Harrington stands up slowly, before speaking, once again interrupting Flash who was about to try again:
“I... I’m not sure why I’m whispering, Betty is probably right. Peter, what’s the prob-”
Before Mr Harrington can finish his question, Peter stifles a gasp, just moments before the door is kicked violently in.
Two men in makeshift tactical gear and black ski masks storm into the room, large semi-automatic weapons in their hands. Peter stumbles back, having been close to the door, and the rest of the group let out short screams. Mr Harrington quickly takes a few steps forward, trying to get in front of the group, but he is quickly halted by one of the men:
“STOP! Nobody move, nobody speak, or we start putting bullets through the extras.”
Everyone freezes in place, the students looking terrified, tears slipping down their cheeks. Mr Harrington looking oddly angry, clenching his fists.
Peter flexes his wrists minutely, and is comforted to feel the hidden webshooters against his skin. He would really rather not use them, but he would, if it meant protecting the others.
One of the men steps forward and roughly grabs Peter by the collar, holding him in front of his body. He lets the gun hang on his back by the strap, but pulls out a knife which he presses to Peters neck, pressing hard enough that blood beads slightly where the metal is pushed against his skin.
He speaks gruffly:
“This one is Stark’s kid. Grab Thompson, and the blondie, she looks rich.”
The others panic at that, Mr Harrington taking another step forward and holding his hands out:
“Wait wait wait, you don’t need to take the kids, I’ll go with you, just-”
The second man swings the gun in an arc, the metal hitting Mr Harrington’s head with a resounding thwack as he crumples to the floor, unconscious.
Peter tenses even more at that, becoming angry, and the others let out pained cries at the blood on their teacher’s forehead. Flash tries to take a step back, but is quickly grabbed by the gunman and yanked away from the group.
Peter was desperately trying to think of a way to reach the panic button on his webshooters, but any movement might prompt his guard dog to press the knife deeper, and he didn’t want them spotting the hidden weapons and taking them away before he had a chance to do anything.
The second gunman pushes Flash towards his partner and Peter, and takes a step towards Betty, who is well on her way to a panic attack. MJ and Ned had moved in front of her protectively, but ultimately they could do nothing as they were shoved aside.
At Betty’s cry of pain when her arm was roughly grabbed, Peter made a split second decision: Enough of this shit.
He makes brief eye contact with Ned, before reaching up and grabbing the hand that held the knife. As soon as he had a strong grip, he pushed his feet into the floor, and launched the two of them back as hard as he could.
His enhanced strength meant that the force with which they hit the wall behind them knocked the gunman out instantaneously, and Peter could hear the satisfying cracks as bones were broken.
Peter’s impact was cushioned by the body behind him, and so he wastes no time, waiting only for the second gunman to turn around before he shoots a web at his gun.
The moment it sticks, he pulls his arm back quickly, and the weapon flies towards him. The gunman is in shock as Peter catches it and, without breaking eye contact, crushes the metal before dropping it to the floor.
The class look on in shock, but it isn’t long before Ned and MJ are grabbing their hands and ushering them out of the way, so that no one gets hurt.
“What the hell?” Comes from Flash, still beside Peter, but MJ quickly yells at him:
“Get over here you idiot, get out of the way!” and he runs to the group huddled around Mr Harrington.
The second gunman snaps himself out of his shock and growls as he takes out a knife and begins to run at Peter:
“You little bastard!”
Peter, sidesteps as the attacker swipes the knife at him, and grabs his outstretched arm, spinning in a circle to throw him at the wall beside his unconscious partner.
He isn’t thrown quite as hard as the first one, and Peter stalks towards him, a scowl on his face as the man tries to shake the daze from his mind.
He dropped the knife on impact, and he looks up just in time to see Peter reach forward, and rip his mask off. It’s no one Peter recognises, just a general thug, but he’s not sure what he was expecting.
The man looks a little more desperate now, it seeming to have registered in his brain that this was not a normal kid.
He tries to throw a punch at Peter’s face, but yelps when Peter catches it without trouble. His yelp is followed by a scream as Peter tightens his hold, crushing the bones in the mans hand as the acadec team watch on in barely concealed horror.
Peter’s enhanced senses pick up a whispered “what the fuck...” but he pays it no mind as he picks the whimpering man up by his collar, and throws him through the table they had all previously been sat at.
The others can’t tear their stares away from Peter as he strides quickly across the room. None of them had ever seen him so furious before, but before MJ or Ned could step in, Peter once again reaches the would-be kidnapper, and pulls him up by the collar with one hand, as he brings the other down to land a punch on his face.
He lets out a self satisfied smirk as the man rolls on his side, weakly spitting out a tooth and a mouthful of blood.
He absentmindedly looks over his shoulder, before throwing an arm out and webbing the still unconscious man to the wall he leant against. Just as a precaution.
Peter looked back down at the quivering mess, holding his broken hand against his chest and looking up at the teen in fear. He snarls as he begins to speak, not even slightly out of breath:
“You come to my school-”
(He aims another, slightly softer punch to the mans abdomen. His whimpers turn loud again.)
“You threaten MY friends-”
(He picks the man up once more, before dropping him harshly onto his knee, and watching as he bounces off, landing a few feet away.)
“And you thought I wasn’t going to put up a fight?-”
(He once again picks the almost limp man up by the collar, and holds him against a wall.)
“Sorry buddy. That’s not how this works. All you’ve done, is piss me off.”
At that, he brings his hand back, forming a fist, and strikes the side of the man’s face. His head rocks to the side violently, and Peter see’s the man’s eyes close. Falling unconscious from the pain (he heard the crack), or the hit to the head, Peter isn’t sure. But he doesn’t care.
He brings his hand back for another punch, only stopping at Ned’s shout:
“Peter no! He’s already passed out dude, drop him!”
Peter hesitates slightly, but doesn’t drop his hand, it’s only at MJ’s desperate yell-
“Peter, you’re gonna kill him!”
-that he steps back, dropping the attacker, and finally taking a deep breath.
He stares down at him, before blinking rapidly, and shaking the daze from his head. He finally presses the panic button on his webshooter (the one that meant emergency, but not immediate-life-or-death-emergency) before he webs him to the wall. He highly doubted he would be waking up any time soon, but just in case.
Peter turns and hurries over to Mr Harrington, not making eye contact with anyone else.
He kneels at his side, checking his pulse and his breathing, before webbing over his backpack and pulling out a mini medkit. He cleans away the blood and checks his pupils before frowning slightly:
“He’ll probably be fine, but he took one hell of a hit. He’ll be out for a while, help is on the way though.”
He still hasn’t looked at the others. He’s well aware of the fact that he just revealed his identity to the group, but more importantly, he knows he let his anger get the better of him. He shouldn’t have focused on the fact that they threatened his friends. He should have just webbed them up and left it at that.
Mr Stark was going to be so mad.
He folds his jacket under Mr Harrington’s head, and stands, only looking up when Betty runs forward and wraps him in a hug.
It surprises him, and he isn’t quite sure what to do, but he wraps his arms around her in return when she whispers a teary “Thank you” in his ear.
After a few moments, she lets go and pulls back, a grateful look on her face. Peter rubs his neck awkwardly and blushes as he looks at the worried expressions on MJ and Ned’s faces, and the shocked expressions on Abe’s and Flash’s:
“You... you’re Spiderman.” From Flash has Peter grimacing and looking to the window, really hoping Mr Stark would show up soon and help him fix this:
“You won’t tell anyone, right?? I was going to reveal my identity when I turned 18 but that’s still a few months away. Can you guy please please please just-”
“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess so.-”
He looks back to them with a panicking realisation, as he rushes to continue:
Abe cuts him off, having shaken the surprise, as he replies:
“Dude, of course we won’t tell anyone, you probably just saved our lives. But... the school is full of cameras... and I doubt we could explain away the lack of Spiderman’s presence when the cops show up. Both of them are covered in webs and you crushed that guy’s gun.”
Peter curses under his breath, but before the panic has time to fester, he hears the tell-tale sound of his webshooters beeping, telling him that Mr Stark had just left the tower.
He gasps and runs to grab his phone, almost tripping as he answers the call:
“Hey, Mr Stark! Uh... we’re in the school library.”
The others don’t hear the reply, but they get the basic meaning when Peter rushes to respond:
“No no! We’re fine, I took care of it! Actually, I could do with an ambulance, Mr Harrington took a nasty hit to the head and passed out-”
Peter stops in his tracks, for a few seconds before continuing:
“I took care of it in a Spiderman kinda way, and this school is full of cameras and I-”
He pauses again:
“-No I wasn’t wearing the mask, and I’m with my friends, that’s the problem!”
Peter vaguely hears Flash muttering behind him (”No way is Parker talking to actual Tony Stark.”) but he pays it no mind as he also hears MJ punch him in the arm and tell him the shut up.
He tilts his head before interrupting whatever it was Mr Stark was saying:
“Oh! I can hear you. Let me just open a window, I’ve uh...-”
He looks around the wrecked library a little nervously as he opens the closest window as wide as it would go, before finishing:
“I’ve destroyed enough school property as it is.”
Peter stares out the open window, before cursing under his breath and quickly sidestepping, just in time for the Iron Man suit to come flying into the room.
He hangs up the phone and waits nervously. Flash and Abe stare on in complete shock, Ned sports a wide grin, and MJ, unsurprisingly, is completely unbothered by Tony Stark’s appearance, and is more focussed on making sure Mr Harrington stays alright (well... as alright as he can be whilst unconscious with a bleeding head wound).
Tony finally steps out of the suit, and Peter gulps as the the older man looks around at the mess. His gaze stops on perp number one (who was just about starting to stir) and the streak of blood from where his head had hit the (now dented) wall, and slid down:
He looks to perp number two, who is in even worse shape (blood coming from his mouth, face starting to bruise rather badly, hand all bent and broken):
“-you really did a number on these guys.-”
He finally looks at a near hysterical Peter, and takes the few steps towards him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder:
“-you sure you’re alright?”
Peter is definitely taken aback at that, he was expecting anger or disappointment, not concern. But before he can reply, Flash speaks up, finally seeming to shake himself out of the daze he was in:
“Holy shit! You actually are Spider-”
Before he can finish, Tony whips his head around and fixes him with a glare:
“Hush, kid, the superheroes are talking.” before turning around to a very confused and slightly shocked Peter:
“You... you’re not mad?” Tony just rolls his eyes at that, and takes a step back, putting both hands in his pockets:
“Pete... I do so much worse than this all the time. I gotta say this is... bloodier than your normal crime scenes, but at least you didn’t kill anyone.”
He says it with a shrug, and Peter begins fiddling with the hem of his sweater as he replies, looking to the floor:
“Yeah, but I almost did. I got angry and I only stopped because Ned and MJ yelled at me.”
Tony hums thoughtfully at that, before looking to Ned and MJ (both of whom he’s met briefly before):
“You two want first aid training? Self defence lessons? Might come in useful if you’re gonna be looking after my kid- oh never mind-”
He waves his hand absentmindedly before looking back at a shocked Peter:
“-we’ll have that conversation later. The cops are on the way, and they’re bringing an ambulance for your teacher. How do you want to play this, Pete?”
Peter is evidently shocked at being given control, he sort of figured that Mr Stark would know what to do:
“I uh... I don’t know. Abe pointed out that there are cameras everywhere, and Spiderman was obviously here-”
He gestures at the two perps. He notices the first about to speak, and quickly webs his mouth. He makes an angry noise in the back of his throat, but it quickly turns into a groan as the pain registers:
“-and those three saw me-”
He quickly turns his attention to Flash, Abe, and Betty:
“not that I don’t trust you guys... well... maybe not Flash... but-”
Tony waves a hand at him and he stops talking, shutting his mouth with a snap. Tony thinks for a minute, looking casually around the room, before looking back to Peter:
“Ok, you’re right kid, there’s no real way to explain this away. We’re just gonna have to fast track things-”
He looks to his suit, still stood open on the other side of the room:
“FRIDAY, tell Pepper that Pete’s identity got out, and to call for a press conference at the tower for... say... two hours from now?-”
His gaze returns to Peter, who is relaxing a bit now, obviously grateful that Mr Stark has some sort of plan, and is taking control:
“We’re just gonna have to come out with it Pete. You head back to the tower and plan it with Pepper. I’ll stay here to look after your kiddy friends, and deal with the cops, alright?”
Peter nods, but looks over at MJ, still sat next to Mr Harrington, keeping an eye on him. His gaze flicks up to the others:
“Are you guys ok with me leaving? I... I’ll stay if you want me to.”
Peter doesn’t notice the fond smile on Tony’s face as he says this, too focused on his friends. Betty is the one who speaks first, with a wide smile on her face:
“We’ll be fine Peter, go and do your thing.”
Peter smiles slightly at that, as Ned speaks:
“Yeah dude, go. We’ll see you later alright?”
MJ, looks up quickly, a teasing smile on her face:
“I’m fine with you going as long as you swear to introduce me to Pepper Potts, she is the real superhero.” Flash scoffs at that, but Tony laughs and nods his head:
“MJ, right? You’re more than welcome to come over with Peter this weekend... in fact... I actually think Pepper was looking for a part time assistant, few hours a week sorta thing. Interested?”
Peter and Ned laugh at the visible shock on her face, and her speechlessness (something that they have never seen before, and will likely never see again) as she wordlessly nods.
He looks back to Peter, and gestures to the open window:
“Swing over to the tower kid, stick your mask on but don’t bother with the rest of the suit until the conference, there isn’t much point now.”
Peter nods firmly, and grabs his backpack, reaching for his mask and pulling it over his head. He hangs out the window, and looks back to say:
“Cops and the ambulance just pulled up round the front, I can hear them. I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he swings round the corner, making his way to the tower as quickly as he can.
Despite Mr Stark’s assurance, he was still ashamed of what he’d done. He had allowed his anger to control him, and he almost killed someone because he let his personal attachment to the victims cloud his judgement.
He was meant to be the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman, not the Punisher or Daredevil. He didn’t want anyone to be scared of him, not even criminals to be honest. But he trusts Tony and Pepper, he’s sure this won’t get too out of hand, they won’t let it.
He’ll have to do some more training with Cap and Bucky, get better at regulating his strength.
Back at the school, Tony was rolling his eyes and trying desperately to ignore Flash, who is managing to somehow be both antagonistic, and an extreme fanboy. It’s his next question that has Tony whipping his head to him, a look of disbelief on his face:
“So is Pen- Parker really your intern??”
“Kid are you... I thought this was a smart school?-”
Ned’s mouth hangs open at that, and Abe, Betty, and MJ laugh:
“-Look, whatever-your-name-is, Spiderman is the internship. Though at this point he spends more time messing around in my lab than he does at his own home so-”
At that point, thankfully, the ambulance crew walks in, and Tony sighs in relief; glad he could now have an excuse to cut off any and all conversation with these kids. God this was going to be a long few days.
Figured I’d branch out and write something for one of the other stupid things I’m obsessed with. I know most of my followers are Merlin accounts so... sorry lads but ;)
Tell me what you think lads. Just like normal, you wanna write it out properly with descriptions and paragraphs and shit, go for it, credit and tag me :)
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Learn Her Place
Title: Learn Her Place
Summary: Fem!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Tony Stark x Alpha!Steve Rogers x Alpha!Bucky Barnes. The reader works for S.H.I.E.L.D. and is on suppressants. In this universe, we obviously are working with multiple Alphas being able to share an Omega. The reader has had sex before but it has been with Betas. She is very distracting to the Alphas and they’re tired of not being able to focus on their work, so they decide to make sure her suppressants no longer work and she is where they think she belongs. Without the suppressants, the reader succumbs to her hormones very quickly.
Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Non-con, ABO dynamics, smut, breeding, brief mention of infidelity, multiple partners, angst. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Author’s Note: Kudos to whoever picks up on the movie line reference
Steve hated it.
Watching her come back from one-night stands with Betas and not feel any remorse about it.
She was an Omega and was granted freedom by the suppressants given to her. She was wasting her fertile cycles away on frivolous orgasms with random strangers. She was able to infiltrate regular society, mainly hide herself away into the crowd. It was not foolproof though.
There was still something there during what her cycle should be. If one did not know she was Omega, they would not attribute the feeling of arousal to her. But he – along with every other high ranking agent – knew she was and it was that much easier to pinpoint it. He could pick up on it and it made him clench his fists every time she was in close proximity, her infiltrating all his senses. He saw the other Alphas in the room tense too at those times, having a difficult time focusing on the mission briefs with her sitting so close. And one of those times was right the hell now. Tony was staring at her abashedly across the table, his fingers at his lips, his jaw clenched. His stare could be excused, he was an intense person. Bucky, next to Steve, chewed on his cheeks while he tried avoiding looking over at her.
It was selfish.
And foolish because the suppressants only did so much, and they acted like it was a solve all. S.H.I.E.L.D was trying so hard to be inclusive and it was only serving to bring down focus and morale when all they wanted to do was mount one of their team members who was acting above her Omega rank.
She had raised her hand and was answering a question. She was smart, there was no doubt about that. She had worked really hard to get up to this level and she continued to go above and beyond.
Steve’s eyes raked down her clavicle to where the top of her breasts were exposed above her shirt. She most certainly had a push up on. His thoughts trailed to what they looked like bare. How they would look at different angles… when she was riding him, below him, from the side… all the different positions he could get her in. His favorite: cradled in his arms, his hand on her round stomach…
He snapped to attention when Wanda literally snapped her fingers in front of his face. He had been spacing out.
“You alright?” she snorted.
“Yeah, fine,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. He gathered up his file and got up from the table without another word, walking towards the door.
He spotted her down the hall, speaking with Thor. Thor was enthralled, looking at whatever she was showing him in her file. He was a huge teddy bear, just like Bruce.
Steve caught sight of Tony and Bucky coming to stand next to him, their eyes fixated on her too down the hallway.
“Anyone else not catch a single thing that was said in that meeting?” Bucky half joked.
“She’s distracting,” Steve snapped in hushed tones. “How do they not notice the affect she has? Has no one said anything?”
“Oh, I’ve already brought it up,” Tony told Steve and Bucky, rolling his eyes. “They’re marking it up to me not being able to ‘control myself’ and shaming me for it.” He added scornfully, “Were you forced to watch that goddamn video—”
“Where they were described as ‘delicate flowers’? Yeah, I did. And was that supposed to make us feel any better about thinking about them being put in harm’s way?” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t be putting her out in the field. Here in the office is one thing. But they shouldn’t be putting any position outside. They’re too susceptible to persuasion.”
Tony said, “That’s why it’s supposed to be secret about their Omega status.”
“I don’t like them out there,” Bucky repeated. “Not just for them but for the rest of our safety too.”
Thor was so close to her, laughing at whatever she had said. He was not affected at all. Steve ground his teeth watching that in front of him. She was comfortable around him, her hand coming to rest on his arm. He felt jealously scratching away at his insides, knowing she was in a cycle.
“It’s gonna drive me insane if I don’t leave,” Tony grated, tearing his eyes away from her to focus on the other two. “You going to the party tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Bucky and Steve said in unison, still staring down the hall.
Tony snorted, “Who the hell planned it on a Thursday, anyhow? Don’t get too worked up if she takes a random person home. I for one won’t be there to witness that. That is unless…” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket, holding it up and Bucky swiped it in the blink of an eye, making it disappear again. Tony threw him a wry smile and said, “I think it’s about time. Don’t hesitate too long now since she’s just gone into the cycle. It’ll take a day or two though to work, remember! And don’t let Banner catch you with that.”
He clapped Bucky on the shoulder before turning on his heel, leaving the other two Alphas to stew.
Bucky and Steve walked into the loud club, finding everyone in disarray already in the VIP area. They had been on last minute mission and had returned late and the party was already well underway. The upper space of the club was packed of S.H.I.E.L.D agents at all varying stages of intoxication. Some had set up tables to play poker – something normally illegal in clubs but no one was bothering them – as well as varying card games.
Of course both of their attention was drawn in towards Y/N. Clint was laughing at the fact she had walked back from up the stairs with a sandwich shoved halfway in her mouth. “Y/N! The food is on the way! You remember? That we ordered?”
“But I’m hungry now,” she whined, her mouth full. “And Wanda asked for half of it!”
“You’re such a baby,” Clint laughed barely keeping it together.
Wanda was in stitches, her head thrown back against her chair. Vision was laughing in tandem with Wanda, following her movement. She only laughed harder when Y/N held out the untouched part of the sandwich that was supposed to be for her.
“Thank you,” Wanda said, taking deep breaths as she tried to stifle her laughter.
Natasha appeared at Bucky and Steve’s sides, raising her eyebrows. “They are drunk,” Natasha hissed at them over the music.
And she smirked then, an unfamiliar kind of smirk. And Steve cocked his head.
“Are you drunk?”
She shrugged sheepishly which was all the answer they needed.
You grasped onto Steve’s arm, startling him. “Have you guys done shots yet?”
Steve’s eyes flicked down to her hand only for a moment and he could feel every press of her hand into his bicep. He looked back up at her and told her, “I can’t get drunk, Y/N.”
“Oh, right,” she said looking immediately pitying of him. She rubbed his arm excessively in her drunk state and he stiffened, his jaw clicking. “I’m sorry. I forgot!” She laughed, noticing how stiff he was and poked him in the chest. “You need to loosen up, Steve.”
“I’ll try,” he said forcing a smile.
“You too, Bucky,” she commented eyeing his stoic expression. She touched the side of his face and he inhaled sharply. She giggled at the response and said, “Maybe you’ll feel better after a drink? You can get drunk right?”
Before he could respond, her attention was drawn elsewhere by Wanda. As soon as she was gone, Steve let out a frustrated sigh and Bucky mirrored his state.
“She’s not taking care of herself,” Bucky murmured, shaking his head. “Anyone could take her home. Anyone!”
“Yeah, well, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Steve returned firmly. Bucky frowned and Steve rolled his eyes, “You can have some drinks. I’ll just be the sober eyes.”
“Thanks for that leeway, but this has gone on long enough hasn’t it?” Bucky asked.
“It has,” Steve exhaled heavily. Y/N was holding Clint’s hand as they danced their way down the staircase from the VIP section, away from where him and Bucky were standing.
Steve was close to her all night, especially on the dance floor. At one point, he grabbed a female Alpha who had started grinding on Y/N and yanked her away. The other Alpha had started to get buck until she realized who exactly she was trying to fight. He was not a hard man to mistake, not with all the press conferences and his mere presence on top of that. She gritted her teeth before leaving seeing his icy stare, taking the hint. Y/N was oblivious, dancing to the techno music, hands in the air still with Clint and Wanda.
Y/N fanned herself and her hands came to the hem of her shirt. Steve’s eyes almost bugged out of his head as she began to tear it off. Steve was at her side immediately, grabbing the shirt before she could remove it completely, yanking it back down.
She focused in on him, confused, and he demanded inches from her face, “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot,” she yelled at him over the music, as if that was a reasonable explanation for her behavior. He imagined all the eyes on her now, his blood pumping in his ears.
Steve shook his head and grasped her arm, pulling her through the crowd.
“Steve!” he heard Clint call from behind him, but it went ignored.
Bucky knew when Steve walked by with Y/N it was time. He got up, following Steve’s movement away from the VIP section towards a more isolated part of the club. Y/N was asking Steve where he was taking her before Bucky snuck up and administered the shot before Y/N could even react to his presence.
She began to ask, “What the hell…” but her eyes were already drooping.
Steve caught her before her knees gave out from beneath her. She was conscious but she was far past coherent. She groaned in his arms and he picked her up, hushing her.
“Wish I could have gotten even two drinks in before that,” Bucky said, eyes searching the club. He looked towards the hall and said, “Should try to take her out a back way or…?”
“She was reckless,” Steve grumbled in his ear as she slumped into his side. “Let’s take her home. She shouldn’t remember any of this. But no, let’s take her back by so everyone can see how ‘drunk’ she is.”
“Right, good idea,” Bucky agreed.
Tony walked in, seeing Y/N at the break room table already, at 7:00am. But, her head was resting on her forearms, a large cup of coffee next to her. He looked over his shoulder, seeing people were walking by in the hallway. Slowly, he closed the door, the handle clicking into place when it was fully closed. She did not stir, and he cocked his head. She must really be out.
He tapped her shoulder and she grumbled, sitting back uncomfortably. She was squinting at him and recognized him, before rubbing at her eyes.
“You alright?” he asked, feigning concern.
“Yeah, just… not feeling great,” she told him.
Hungover. Every clue of it clear as day to everyone else. But Tony was not everyone else. He knew this was not a withdrawal from alcohol but another drug entirely. Her body was correcting itself from that nasty medication, right at the height of her heat.
“You should be drinking water instead of coffee,” Tony told her, his Alpha peaking in his tone.
It was an easy way to worm himself in. He was not supposed to do this – but they had also not been supposed to administer that drug without her consent –, it was against protocol. But he just had to know. He had to see if she would respond.
Simultaneously to his surprise and not, she made eye contact with him. He saw… doe eyes. She quickly averted her gaze and looked at her cup.
“You’re right,” she told him.
Tony watched her with arousal as she got up and tossed the coffee in the sink. She went towards the fridge, but Tony was already there, opening it up to grab a water bottle for her.
“Let me,” he told her, and she stopped, looking at him patiently as he held it out to her.
She took it from him, taking a drink. “Thanks. I… I really don’t feel great.”
Tony pointed at her and said, “You probably need oxygen. And a lot of water.”
“Clears a hangover pretty quickly.”
“Oh, I’m not—” she began to stammer, and he could not help his lip twitching in amusement at her looking embarrassed.
Tony chuckled, “It’s alright. The party was last night. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Y/N looked unsure if she should relax or not for a few moments before she relented, nodding. “Yeah, what idiot decided tequila shots was the way to start off the night?”
“Probably the same idiot who planned it to be on a Thursday.”
“Thirsty Thursday,” she mumbled, taking another drink.
“Thirsty Thursday,” Tony agreed lightly. “Eat something too. Something healthy. Fruit, maybe.” She grumbled in response but nodded as she sat back down at the table. She swiped an apple from the center of the table and took a large bite. Tony watched her for a few more seconds, anticipation nipping at his heels before he parted with, “Feel better.”
He needed to tell Bucky and Steve she should be ready by tonight if she was already reacting to him like that.
Y/N was the last one in her office, the other two had gone home already. She looked up at Tony walking into the office, carrying a bag. Her stomach growled at the smell coming from the bag, her eyes falling to it. Tony only stalled for a moment, the smell of her coming to him. She was tumbling fast, she looked flushed.
Tony approached her desk, a friendly glint in his eye. “Ah, you are still here. Here, we ordered some food. I always go for greasy at some point after drinking and I’m sure it’ll help.” She looked past him to where Bucky and Steve were in the hallway.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Y/N told him timidly.
Tony loved the sight: she was tying to avoid direct eye contact, speaking in soft tones.
“Just thought we’d be nice.”
“Thank you.” She would not grab it from him. “Today has been… I don’t know. I can’t focus. I need to finish this before I leave. I just… I don’t feel great,” she said her voice getting smaller as her eyes were dragged back to her computer screen.
Tony ordered, “Press save and close the laptop. Eat.” He placed the bag on her desk. “It’ll help.”
He turned to leave, and she blurted, “Where are you going?”
Tony came to a stop, his gaze locked with Steve and Bucky, his back to her. To them, he gave them a sly, knowing smile that only lasted a few seconds before he turned back to her.
“I mean, you don’t have to leave and go eat somewhere else if you already have your food too. You don’t want it to get cold. I promise I’m not throwing up or anything. I just feel off. Like a headache… a little hot.”
She wanted them to stay, that was obvious. She needed something from them and even if she could not figure out what it was just yet, her body was telling her they were needed.
“Sure,” Tony chirped. “If it won’t bother you.”
She shook her head and he started walking back towards the desk beside hers. His suit jacket came off, and he swung it around the back of the chair. Steve and Bucky had come into the room as well, purposely leaving the door open. Bucky sat across from Y/N, his eyes following her movements as she opened the bag Tony had placed in front of her. He watched the way her hands shook ever so slightly, her tongue running across her bottom lip as she opened the container of food.
Y/N made a satisfied sound as she tasted it. “God, thank you. This is delicious. I needed it. I feel… shaky.”
The three of them around her was making it difficult for her to focus though. She kept stealing glances at them, being met with blatant stares back as they slowly ate. Steve adjusted, trying to hide his length that was starting to grow at her being so damn close and smelling so damn good.
Tony spilled some on the desk and said, “Shit!”
Before she could offer he was leaning over her, reaching across the grab a kleenex from the other side of her desk. He heard her inhale and he forced himself to not react, sitting back down, dabbing at the food he had spilled. His jaw was clenched; he should not have done that because now he was working himself up quickly.
The three of them noticed her chewing slowed to a stop and her eyes moved between the three of them. Something was starting to click… the tense silence in the room getting under her skin. The off feeling no doubt growing ever stronger.
Swallowing, she cleared her throat. Her voice was higher pitched than normal, “Do you guys want a cookie? To go with it for after, I mean? I… there’s some over here.”
She pushed her chair back quickly and moved away from her desk. Along the wall, she fumbled with the drawers, looking for these mysterious cookies. She was getting squirrelly, nervous, like she wanted some air. They could all sense it and they wanted to get ahead of her stressing out while they could. All three were out of their seats: Bucky strode across the room away from her, closing the door while Tony and Steve came closer towards her.
Y/N turned around startled at them all having moved so quickly, holding a handful of fortune cookies. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, staring directly back at her. She gave a small laugh, “Are people still working out there? Were we being too loud, do you think?”
Tony and Steve said nothing and her smile faltered, a frown growing. “Can…Can I just… get by,” she said trying to skirt around them but each time, one of them blocked her way. She tried to brush it off, holding the cookie out. “Do you just want it now?”
She asked, so innocently. Sweetly. Steve shuddered at it. She could not hide her true nature even in her tone. And the phrasing, the three of them smirked.
Bucky was still by the door, leaning against the frame. He popped a chocolate in his mouth, watching the scene unfold.
“Well, I would really like to get eat—” She said, trying again to break through their rank and being unsuccessful. She frowned visibly now, worry lines showing up on her face. She chuckled nervously, “Did I do something wrong?”
Steve noticed the spiral coming. He could hear the increase in her heartrate. She knew she was surrounded by Alphas and was growing uncomfortable. Especially since she was alone, it was late, and they were encroaching. His hand came up to slap over her mouth and she yelled frightened, the sound muffled. He pulled her away from the counter, dragging her back towards the third desk. Tony was ready, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back, slipping the retractable cuffs around her wrists. The cookies tumbled to the floor and he paid them no mind, stepping on them as he passed her to Steve solely. Her arms were bound at the small of her back and she fell face first against the table. All three of them were growing hard at the sight.
As soon as Steve removed his hand she began to scream, and he clamped back down.
“Omega,” Steve purred in her ear and she whimpered behind his hand. He laced his tone, his Alpha rumbling, “You’re going to be quiet aren’t you?” She said nothing, her chest just rapidly moving up and down. “Omega… are you gonna be quiet? Nod for me if you are gonna be good.” She nodded frantically against his hand and he slowly removed it.
Tearfully, she said, “Can you let me go?”
“Oh, no. No, we can’t, beautiful,” Steve said, his finger running down her exposed neck, causing her to squirm. He pulled away, turning his attention to Tony.
“But… I… I didn’t do anything wrong,” she tried to plead, looking at Bucky across the desk to where he was standing at the door. “I followed all the rules. I—” Tony’s hands lifted up underneath her dress and she let out a choked noise, craning her neck to look back at him. “Alpha, please!”
Tony audibly groaned at her slipping up and giving in to calling him by his title. He yanked her leggings and underwear down to her ankles. He freed himself from his slacks and his fingers pressed at her pussy. She buried her face in the desk, trying to squeeze her legs together.
“Oh, come now. None of that,” Tony ordered, and she loosened. His fingers pressed in, stroking her slowly. She was already wet, probably had been for the better part of the day. It is why the three of them had stayed away, they could have lost control before now and ruined it all otherwise.
“You’re not being punished, Omega,” he told her. “Rewarded actually…” She whimpered and he cooed as he continued stroking her gently, “Oh, sweetpea… beautiful Omega. You’re going to be just fine. You’re in the perfect hands. You feel sick for a reason and we are going to help you.”
The more he spoke, the more he watched her body relax against his hand and his tone. The smell of her was driving him insane – he could only imagine Steve and Bucky not being able to touch her at all. He should not stall for long, wouldn’t want to start a fight.
“You’re going to feel so much better,” Tony promised as she tried to push back on his fingers, and he bit his lip at the sight. His fingers were gone, and she let out a disappointed noise. Tony rubbed his cock up and down her ass, slowly. “God, this is gonna feel so fucking good.”
Tony’s head pressed in and she gasped, adjusting to his width. He gave a strangled laugh, relishing in how tight her walls were. She was squirming beneath him and he gave her a rapt smack on the ass.
“I know you haven’t had an Alpha cock before but relax, Omega,” Tony ordered gruffly.
“It’s too much,” she said pitifully.
“You’ll adjust. You’ll adjust,” Tony moaned, pressing in further. “You’ll be able to take all of me. All of us. It’s what you were built for.”
Bucky was becoming shifty, chewing on his thumb nail, his eyes boring into Y/N. He had stepped away from the door, coming closer to where she was. His dick was outlined in his jeans but he had refrained from releasing himself just yet. Steve on the other hand had taken his cock out and was stroking himself, needing some type of contact. Both of their eyes were blown wide.
“Oh. Tony,” Bucky said, aroused. “You would love this sight.”
Y/N’s eyes were glazed over as Tony thrusts grew deeper and quicker. Looking the perfect example of a subservient Omega, impaled on an Alpha’s cock.
“I love the feeling,” Tony choked back, holding tight to her wrists to drive himself deeper.
Soon, they came tumbling down. Tony came with loud grunts, emptying inside of her and he left a claim mark on her shoulder. Tony only took a moment to kiss at her neck, whispering something sweet into her ear before he backed off. His pants were buttoned back up and he collapsed in one of the chairs, his eyes falling on her.
Steve wasted no time coming behind her and entering her with ease. She whimpered at the intrusion, still so sensitive. His thrusts were unbridled, worked up into a frenzy. Y/N’s hips bounced off the desk.
“Alpha,” she whined.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Steve panted, his fingers digging into the skin at her hips. “You feel so goddamn good, Omega. You’re doing so well. So, so well. Everything I dreamed.”
The room was filled with skin slapping skin and the aroused moans leaving Y/N.
“Alpha,” she whined again, and Steve groaned, knowing she was getting close. He could feel her clenching around him.
And when she did, shaking and whimpering, Steve thrusted quickly as she tightened. He finished with a shout unable to help himself, coating her walls. He left another distinct claim bite at the base of her neck. His fingers traced it gently before he noticed Bucky standing there.
“You know, for an Alpha. Buck, you sure as hell are patient,” Steve joked.
Bucky gave a curt smirk before shoving Steve out of the way. Steve held his hands up in surrender, turning away and letting Bucky have his way with her. Y/N was doing so well still, behaving and letting Bucky rut her into the desk without pushback. Bucky had been right, Tony thought to himself. He loved that look in her eyes. She was lost to her arousal.
“P-p-please, alpha,” she begged moments before she cried out again.
Bucky grunted loudly, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his high. He shook as he emptied himself and went to the opposite shoulder to leave another claim mark. She was exhausted, breathing heavily having not one but three Alphas imprinting themselves on her and using her.
The door opened and all three of them froze, Bucky still buried in Y/N, his large hands at her hips.
Clint was standing there, his mouth fallen open in disbelief at the scene. There were a few seconds of suspended shock before he asked them disgusted, “You couldn’t even lock it?”
“Didn’t think about it,” Tony admitted.
“You? You didn’t think? That’s rich,” Clint spat back at him. He noticed Y/N was handcuffed and realization dawned on him. He glared daggers at the three of them and snapped, “You’re going to get sidelined for this!”
“No, I don’t think so. More like chewed out… I’ve been chewed out before,” Steve said. Impatiently he added, “Now, will you close the damn door?”
His request went ignored by Clint, who pressed on furiously, “No, seriously. You guys know that right? Compromising an agent like this! Especially one they’re trying to keep up because they’re in such big demand to even out the ranks! She’s only going to respond to your Alpha commands now! That compromises her!”
“And why is anyone complaining about that? She should be answering to her superiors,” Tony remarked, watching her intently. She was so lost, trying to figure out what was going on. She had no purpose without feeling a cock being driven into her when she was this worked up into her heat. Tony almost felt bad for her…
“Barton, are you going to let Barnes pull out so we can untie her or what? She’s got to be getting sore by now. Wouldn’t want to hurt our ‘delicate flower’.” Clint stood his ground and Tony lost his humor, snapping, “Get the fuck out, Barton. It’s already been done. Now. Before I lose my goddamn temper.”
Clint’s jaw was clenched as he turned away from the three Alphas, slamming the door behind him so loudly it shook the wall.
“Speaking of that,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. He leaned in, catching her attention. “Darling… do you want Alpha to finish inside you?” She nodded fervently and Bucky grunted in response, rutting against her backside even as he pulled away from her. He pulled her up and she stood on shaky legs. In her ear, he asked, “Do you want to always be finished inside of?” She nodded again, biting her bottom lip. “Hmm… you want to please us? That’s what I thought. So. How about after you take in that feeling of that warm seed inside you, you go up to the director and tell her you want to resign? Tell her you wanna be a good little housewife for us? How does that sound?”
“Okay,” she agreed.
Steve’s fingers pressed her cheeks in, pressing her lips out and he smiled. “You wanna be an asset to the team in your best way. Such a team player.” He shot Tony a look at the end of the desk, an aroused gleam in his eye. “I’m sure we can get you a proper collar.”
“I’ve already got it built. I’ve been waiting for her to learn her place.” Tony then added, “But she can’t live with me. Pepper will kill me.”
“I’ve got it,” Steve said.
Steve rubbed her stomach and said, “Regardless, she’s gonna be serving her real purpose soon.”
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21
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Dark Power Pt. 9
Read Part 8 HERE!
Summary: The Winchester’s run into Azazel again. Sam and Y/N find out what controls Y/N’s powers.
Word Count: 1,974
“It’s been a while.” Azazel spoke.
Everyone looked over at him in shock. The spell Rowena casted must have alerted him in some way.
“What the hell do you want.” Dean snapped.
“What do you think?” Azazel lit up with a devilish smirk.
“No. You are not taking her.” Sam made it clear as he pushed Y/N behind him.
“Oh Sammy, It’s not your choice now, isn’t it. Let me just talk to my girl, it’s about time we meet.”
Y/N poked her head out from behind Sam. Although she was scared, she was also curious as to who this Azazel was.
“My, you’ve grown so much. You feel those powers, I know you do.”
“Don’t even think about laying a finger on her-” Dean threatened. Azazel didn’t hesitate and flung Dean across the room, making him hit a wall and falling to the ground. Y/N looked up in shock, not even aware that what he did was possible. Azazel proceeded to do the same to Sam, which made Y/N really upset.
“You’d be smart not to touch me.” Rowena spoke. Azazel didn’t listen as he snapped his fingers, vanishing Rowena from the house.
“Now, finally I can have some one on one time with my muse.”
“What did you do to her?” Y/N spoke, puffing out her chest and trying to appear tough. The last thing she wanted was for some demon to think she was scared of him. Even though, deep down she was terrified.
“Oh don’t worry. She’s not dead, just away somewhere. Now where were we?”
“I’m not your muse.” Y/N said with disgust. “Just get rid of the spell that you gave me!”
“Why would you want me to take a gift like that away from you, ungrateful if you ask me.”
“It’s not a gift, it’s a curse.” Y/N snapped.
“Well, either way, it’s permanent.” Azazel smiled.
“What do you mean? You’re the one who did this to me, why can’t you take it back!”
“Because, I can already see it. You have so much potential and you don’t even know it. If you learn to control your powers, maybe it won’t be such a bad thing. Think about it, you’re special Y/N, use what you have to your advantage.” Azazel paced around the room.
“I don’t need to use anything.”
“Sooner or later, you're going to have to. We have big plans for Earth you know, and once you get a hang of what you have, you’ll be able to help us win.” Azazel smiled.
“I’ll never help you do anything.” Y/N spat.
“Maybe this will change your mind.” Azazel paused. Y/N looked around, confused as to what he was referring to. Azazel raised his hand and clenched his fist. All of a sudden, Sam and Dean clenched their sides in pain.
“What are you doing to them!” Y/N yelled.
“Killing them.” He said like it was nothing. Y/N rushed to her father’s side and looked at him with concern.
“Daddy, what do I do!” Y/N cried. Sam looked like he was trying to say something but groaned as the pain got worse. Y/N stood up and turned to Azazel with a fiery look of anger on her face.
The house started to shake, a few photos ended up falling off the wall. Y/N became the most angry she had probably ever felt in her life at that point. The shaking stopped and everything was quiet for a second.
“Leave. Them. Alone.” Y/N spoke. The house went from quiet, to chaos in a split second. Y/N sent Azazel flying across the house and smashed him through a window. Sam and Dean were finally able to stand up, now that the pain was gone.
Azazel appeared once more in front of Y/N. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He laughed as he clapped his hands together. “Now you know what to do. I’ll be seeing you very soon, my dear.” He spoke before vanishing.
“Well, for someone who has never experienced anything like that, I’d say you handled yourself pretty well.” Dean smirked as he hoisted himself off the floor.
“This isn’t funny, what does he mean by all of that?” Y/N turned around.
“I think we have a case on our hands.” Sam said.
The three Winchester’s sat at Sam’s kitchen table. Dean had brought out files, notes, and books. Sam had his laptop open, Dean joked about how it was like the old days when they used to hunt together. Sam wasn’t in a joking mood, he was way too worried about Azazel and his evolvement with his daughter, who for sure had powers of some sort.
“Dean, I don’t think all of that is necessary. He made it pretty clear what’ll go down.” Sam said.
“Fine, Mr. know it all, you tell me what’s gonna happen.” Dean said.
Sam rolled his eyes. “He said he had plans for Earth, well, he said we. I don’t know who else is siding with him, but it sounded like he put that spell on Y/N because he wants her to be on his side, so she can help him with whatever he’s planning.”
“Like he wants to turn her against us.” Dean chimed in.
“Exactly. He wants us dead. He wants to finish what he started. Which means if he got the chance to kill us, he would end up saving Y/N for last.....” Sam explained.
“So what do we do?” Y/N asked.
“Maybe he’s right... about one thing. I mean, Y/N you were able to go against a demons powers with your own, you saw what you did to him... You could use them to your advantage, but instead of using them with him, you could use them against him. So whenever the time comes where he plans on doing his thing, you’ll be ready and he might not expect it.” Sam said.
“You really think that could work?” Dean questioned.
“You got anything better in mind?”
“Well, Y/N? You up for the challenge?” Dean asked.
“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”
Hearing Y/N say that made Sam’s heart break into a million pieces. In this life, you never had a choice. Even if you try and make an escape, to be normal, it will always come back to bite you. Sam had it working for this long, but their time was up. They had no choice but to return to the hunting life.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Sam announced as he got up and went upstairs.
“Why is my dad look so upset?” Y/N asked once he left the room.
“There’s a lot of reasons. You know once you were born, your dad wanted to do everything to protect you from this. It was a hard decision for him. He knew the risks of having a kid in this life, but he couldn’t see you be raised by someone other than him. I know he would never confess his feelings about this stuff but I can tell. I know he wondered if he made the right decision, but deep down he did the right thing.” Dean explained.
“He wanted to protect me from all of this? Didn’t he?”
“Yup. But, its not exactly easy when you’re born a Winchester. I guess it’s not a terrible thing sometimes, we are pretty damn cool.” Dean smiled.
Y/N laughed. “I guess so.”
“I think your dad is just scared this is too much for you. It all just, kind of came up all of a sudden, no warning or anything. He probably blames himself for not being able to keep you away from this.”
“Well he doesn’t need to. I don’t want him to feel like that.” Y/N frowned.
“Then, make him proud. I know you’re strong Y/N, you're a Winchester. You have that fight in you, you may just not know it yet.”
“Thanks Uncle Dean. I’m gonna go check on him.” Y/N said as she got up from the table.
Y/N walked up the stairs and hovered outside Sam’s bedroom door. She knocked a few times on his door, but heard nothing. Until she heard some sniffling, it wasn't coming from the bedroom.
Y/N walked down the hallway and heard the sniffling near the bathroom door. “Dad?” She knocked on the door. Sam heard the knocks, turning on the sink and splashing water on his face.
She leaned on the door and accidentally pushed it open, to see Sam hunched over the sink. He was clearly upset about the whole situation.
“Y/N, I’m fine, I’ll be downstairs in a sec, okay.” Sam choked out. She didn’t listen and went up to Sam.
“It’s okay dad.” Y/N said softly as she wrapped her arms around his large frame. Sam didn’t resist and accepted the hug, bringing his daughter in closer, scared that she would be taken away from him.
“We can do this. We’re Winchesters right?”
Sam laughed softly and hugged her tighter.
A few days later, Sam tried to help Y/N learn the extent of her powers. He didn’t want to have to do something like this, but she was stuck with it for now and he knew there weren’t many options.
“So, can you just.... uh do you just make whatever you want to happen, happen?” Sam hesitantly asked.
“The last few times things have happened, I don’t really feel like I’m controlling anything.”
“Well it can’t be him that’s controlling them.” Sam thought. “He obviously wanted you to use them yourself.... Do you feel anything when that stuff happens?”
“Actually, yeah. It’s like, uh I don’t know. Can we do this later?” Y/N sighed.
“I’d like to understand this. Who knows, we might not have all the time in the world to figure out this ‘plan’.” Sam sympathized with her, knowing it was becoming a lot of stress.
“It’s like I’m really angry on the inside. And instead of releasing anger in some way, whatever spell I have creates chaos. I feel like I don’t have much control over it so it’s kind of hard to explain.” Y/N brushed her hair behind her ear.
Sam suddenly got an idea. “What if it’s controlled by anger? Maybe you have to be really mad in order to expel any kind of power.”
“Okay, how does that help?”
“Trust me with this, think about all of those times that girl at school picked on you.” Sam suggested.
“Why would I want to think about that?” Y/N’s expression changed.
Sam sighed. “I’m trying to anger you, c’mon take this seriously. Anything you can think about that has made you upset to your core. Dwell on that for a second.”
“Dad, I don’t think that’ll work....”
“Trust me, just close your eyes and think.”
Y/N sat at the kitchen table and slouched down onto the surface. She rested her chin on her arms and zoned in on a particular spot, thinking about the things that made her most angry. She started to focus in more once she felt that same feeling. Sam watched intently as he hoped for something to happen. Y/N shut her eyes tightly as the anger grew, until she snapped.
As she opened her eyes, the kitchen lights made a popping sound as the electricity went out within a second. A few of the chairs at the table slid out of position, making Sam jump. Y/N looked up at her father in shock, part of her being startled, the other part being impressed with herself.
“Sorry, I didn’t chose what would happen.” Y/N apologized.
“I think we found what fuels the power.” Sam said in a relieved voice.
Y/N let out a relieved laugh of hope as she sat in the dark kitchen.
But deep down, she was terrified of what’s to come.
And so was Sam.
Requests Are Open!
Part 10 Coming Soon!
@mersuperwholocked-lowlife @gracie-and-the-superwholock-gang @samsgirl93
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It’s been a while since you “met” Bruno. You had to cover most of your windows with curtains or blinds or the occasional blanket when you had to work on your limited finances a little bit. But, it didn’t seem to deter the Moth in the slightest. Like clockwork, as soon as the sun set and the lights in your house became the only lights left in the woods, he’d come and knock on your windows, crooning for you to open the glass and let him in.
“Amore, please,” he’d plead as you tried to eat dinner, or watch tv, or read a book, or go to bed. Even worse, were the nights you didn’t see him early and you decided to get off for relaxation. Halfway through, you’d hear him cooing at you through the glass, usually at an angle where you could see that he is watching you through the small split between the curtains in your bedroom. The worst part was how his praise would affect you, making you wetter and hornier than before. Sighing, you look at your calendar, looking at months that are coming up. Winter creeps ever closer, to your relief. After all, bugs either vanish into their holes or they die during the cold months. You turn and head to the kitchen, already running through the food you have stocked up, when something slams into a window. Jumping, you turn and hurry to your bedroom, confused and fearful of what could have made that sound. Pulling open the curtains, you gape in shock at Bruno, who is extremely early as the sun still sits in the sky.
“Amore, I need you,” he gasps, bucking his hips against the window as he slams one of his fists on the glass. You stumble back, squeaking in fear as he slams another fist against the glass, a hairline fracture appearing. He licks his lips, moaning as he bucks his hips once more against the window, showing you a rather large ovipositor where his genitals should be. You feel your face heat up, unable to tear your eyes away from his sexual organ, swallowing harshly as arousal starts to burn between your legs.
“Let me in, Tesoro. Let me make you feel good,” he pleads softly, his normally put together appearance gone, leaving a wild, sexual predator at your window.
“Go away!” you finally find your voice again, yelling, “Piss off! What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“I want you to have my eggs. I need you to have my brood. Amore, let me in,” Bruno pleads, scratching at the window, his nails catching on the hairline fracture to chip off the glass bit by bit. You stumble back, fumbling with the door to escape, only to scream in fear when Bruno punches the cracked glass again, creating a hole big enough for one of his hands to reach in. The Moth’s face lights up, his hand moving inside and unlocking your window as you finally get your bedroom door open. You turn to sprint out of the house, only to cry out in fear when two hands grab your ankles, making you fall on your chest. Raising your hands, you barely prevent yourself from slamming your face into the hardwood floor, scratching at the floor desperately as Bruno drags you back toward him.
“Oh, shhhh, Amore. I’m here, there’s nothing to be scared of,” he coos softly, settling you on his lap, his ovipositor resting against your clothed pussy, trapped between your thighs. Bruno sighs happily as he rubs his ovipositor between the plush flesh, nuzzling against your throat with happy murmurs and purrs as his hands travel across your body. You fight through your fear enough to try and elbow his face, only for one of his hands to catch your arm, holding you in place. A second hand grabs your other arm, allowing his second pair of hands to keep groping you.
“Let me go. Let me go. Let me go, please for the love of God, let me go,” you plead, tears starting to fall from your eyes as the horror, fear, anxiety, and helplessness overwhelms you. Surprisingly, Bruno complies, cooing softly in concern when you slide off his lap and scramble away from him.
“Amore? Are you okay?” he asks softly, crawling toward you. You sob, kicking at him fearfully.
“Go away! Stay back!” you plead, shaking as the Moth continues to move closer to you. You raise your hands up and clench your eyes up, scared that he would attack you to get what he wants. Instead of pain, you feel hands gently patting your head and rubbing at your arms. Slowly, you open your eyes. Despite how his ovipositor is still hard and bobbing against his stomach, Bruno is leaning forward to comfort you, one hand running through your hair while another is rubbing soothingly at your arm, his blue eyes focused softly on you.
“Oh Amore. I scared you, didn’t I? I should have warned you,” he coos, pausing when a shiver runs over him, his wings fluttering as his eyes close. You flush when a soft moan escapes him, the hands that were soothing you stopping briefly before resuming their motions. He explains, “It just happens that now is my Season, so I tend to be more aggressive. I’m sorry, Amore, that was mean of me.” He scoots closer, his other hands finding your knees and thighs as his wings tremble on his back.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” you hiccup, tears no longer falling from your eyes, but still wary and scared from his display earlier.
“I was so far into my rut that I thought you would welcome me. Of course, you humans move much slower than us Moths, even though you have such shorter lifespans,” Bruno hums, the hand in your hair running down to cup your face gently. He purrs, “But you’re so perfect for me, Amore, I can’t help but want you. I see that I was moving too fast.” He leans forward, despite your flinch, nuzzling against your cheek, turning his head to press his mouth against your cheek while softly promising, “I’ll properly court you after this rut.” You blink and suddenly, the Moth is slipping back out the window, leaving you kneeling on the floor. You blink the remainder of tears from your eyes as you stare blankly at the hole in your window.
“What the hell does that even mean?” you croak out.
I AM L O S I N G MY GODDAMN FUCKING M I N D
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hey! i really enjoyed what you wrote for the soulmate alphabets so [insert All Might smile] i am here!! could i request D [soulmate] for Zoro? thanks in advance! ☺️💓
Hello my dear! I am so sorry for how long this took, I haven’t been feeling well but today I had energy to write so I decided to take advantage of that! I took some creative liberty with the whole Marine aspect and I hope you enjoy it!
Zoro x Reader - No Promises
D - “damage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body”
Warnings: mentions of bodily harm
Synopsis: A vicious pursuit, Zoro manages to get lost and stumble across someone powerful. Their aura is daunting and their ability with a sword is even more frightening, but being efficient with a sword is not their only similarity. Zoro soon finds out that their connection runs deeper, much deeper, not just skin deep in the pursuit.
“We almost caught up with him, Vice Admiral!” A shaky man yelled to his head officer with his hand against his forehead in pure respect. The person they were addressing didn’t look too pleased by what their subordinate said.
“Almost? Almost? Why didn’t you catch up to him?” They scowled as they slammed their fist down against the table and watched as it began to shake under the sheer force of their fist.
“He’s fast, we had no way -- “
“Bullshit,” They scoffed as they adjusted their white cape with a sour expression on their face. The subordinate squeaked and quickly scrambled to grab his papers before he ran out of the office with a small scream. They sighed in annoyance as they watched him run away, they leaned against their desk with a small frown. “Guess I need to go out there,” They said as they grabbed their sword and left their office. If something needed to be done, do it yourself or something like that, they thought. Like usual, the Strawhat crew was making a mess of a town they were in, and being the Vice Admiral in charge of the island and the islands surrounding it, they took it as their personal responsibility to make sure that this disturbance was accounted for. While most of the crew had escaped, there was a person that wasn’t accounted for yet: Roronoa Zoro, one of the world’s strongest swordsmen. They felt their hand tense at the thought of being able to finally fight him, to finally see if his strength was anything remarkable.
“Vice Admiral! We caught sight of him near the pier, it seems that he’s lost?” Another subordinate said in some confusion. They couldn’t help but sigh at that, they had heard about how directionally challenged the swordsman was, but they never expected it to be this bad, after all the island was only so big. With a small breath, they got into a running stance before they were practically flying through the air to the pier to catch up with the swordsman. They came to a skidding halt when they heard the sound of swords clashing.
He was here.
When they looked over their shoulder and saw the swordsman heavily breathing as he put his swords away, they couldn’t help but smirk.
“Are you already tired?” They teased as they slowly approached the rabid Zoro. Zoro frowned and went to pull his sword out, but their quick reflexes quickly stopped the swordsman in his tracks. “Did you seriously think that would work?” They frowned as they pulled their sword away. Their eyes scanned over the swordsman's body and noticed something interesting. Scars ran across his chest and his arms, all deep and jagged and painful, and most importantly exactly like theirs. They frowned at that realization and took a step back from him. Now it was Zoro’s turn to smirk, he took their look as them checking him out, who would blame them? He was built, strong, he was almost godly in his stature.
“If you just wanted me you could’ve asked, I've never done a vice admiral before,” Zoro teased.
“Shut it,” They snapped in disgust, they moved to take their coat off and unbuttoned the top of their shirt to show the same, long scar that Zoro had. “I was looking at your scar, where the hell did you get it?” They asked as they pointed to the swordsman in curiosity. Zoro frowned when he saw the scar that was the same as his own, but before either of them could say anymore, the marine reinforcements were beginning to arrive and come in full force.
“Run!” They quickly said as they grabbed the swordsman’s hand and went to run to a safe place for the two of them. They ran fast, Zoro even had to admit that he was surprised by their deftness and speed. As they reached an isolated, quiet part of the town, they started to slow down and looked over at the swordsman.
“Where -- “
“An abandoned part of the town, it was run down by pirates and the people here had to evacuate,” They shared as they adjusted the coat over their shoulders again. Zoro watched as their face became sullen and how they grew quiet as they looked around the town they were in. Even more than that, Zoro was surprised at how quickly they were opening up to him, why was that?
“Abandoned?” Zoro decided to ask. He almost regretted asking when he saw how their face darkened.
“All you pirates think you’re so righteous, you fight marines, other pirates but do you ever think about the citizens who have to live in your mess?” They asked him. Zoro stayed silent and watched as they glared at him. Zoro could feel the power emanating off of them, they were someone he knew he shouldn’t mess with so easily. A Vice Admiral, but why were they so different? Did they have the same moral compass as a normal Marine, yes, but something about the way they held themselves, the way the coat slid off of their shoulders caught his eye.
“What if I said the same about you, huh? You marines only cause damage where you go. You say you represent justice, but what is that justice? Where is it?” Zoro decided to press with a sour frown on his face.
“Don’t even compare me to -- “
“So you think you’re above the law? You think you can destroy towns that were run by pirates? What about the innocent people there depending on their protection? You guys do the same thing the lowly pirates do. I’m not saying pirates are better, I’m not. I’m saying to look at yourself before you spout bullshit like that, at least pirates have the guts to acknowledge when they destroy something, you all just run away,” Zoro ranted as he slowly stepped towards them. When he noticed how they were trying to look away from him, he used his hand to grab at their chin and force them to maintain the sharp, almost painful eye contact with him. Both of them had hate in their eyes, the tension between them was thick, but thick with what exactly? Neither of them could place their finger on what exactly it was. But soon, Zoro noticed how their eyes began to soften, their lips tightened and it looked as if they were thinking.
“There really are bad people on both sides,” They frowned as they tried to step away from the swordsman, but Zoro wouldn’t let them go that easily.
“Why do you have those scars?” Zoro asked instead. The position they were in looked compromising. The Vice Admiral’s back was against a wall now, the swordsman was looking straight down at their chest with curious eyes. Realizing the strange position they were both in, the Vice Admiral had the grace to blush and cast their eyes away from the swordsman as he seemingly undressed them with one of his eyes.
“They showed up one day. I was a captain on a ship and one day when I was patrolling, a sharp pain. I passed out, when I woke up I saw the deep scar across my chest which confused me, I wasn’t even attacked, and then even more scars started to appear. And two years ago the worst pain in my life happened. A deep pain, it was a personal scar I could tell, it was like fire,” They tried to explain, they did their best to try to explain something that seemingly didn’t make any sense. Zoro was stunned to silence, he stared at the scar some more and looked at the smooth edges of the scar, the stitching, everything. He knew the work of that sword, he was the one who was on the other end of the sword.
“It was my fault,” Zoro breathed out apologetically, but now it was their turn to be confused.
“What -- “ Before they were allowed to finish, Zoro stepped back and pointed to the deep scar on his own chest with a frown on his face.
“I got hurt then, that must've done something to you, but I don’t know why,” Zoro frowned. When they both looked at each other again, they began to realize that their connection may have run deeper than he realized. Neither of them were able to say anything about it though, how could they? One was a Vice Admiral and the other a pirate, a powerful pirate from a notorious group.
“I won’t forget you, Zoro,” They said as the sound of footsteps were heard in the distance: the rest of the reinforcements were coming. Their connection was deep, their lives were intertwined and they didn’t know it yet. “I will capture you one day, and then we can talk,” They said, their sense of justice and their loyalty to their job was still on the forefront of their mind, they couldn’t let Zoro know the power he had over them. Zoro felt the same way, he did his best to look annoyed, but it was difficult, he was intrigued by them.
“And I will do my best to kick your ass,” Zoro smirked.
“Romantic,” They teased.
“I can be if you give me a shot,” Zoro flirted as he started to follow the Vice Admiral out of the abandoned part of the town. They rolled their eyes and looked back over at him.
“You wish, now get out of here, and don’t get lost!” They yelled as they saw Zoro already running, was it even in the right direction?
“No promises,” Zoro smirked as he started to run past the marines that were there. They all looked confused, how did their Vice Admiral not catch up to him yet?
“Get him!” A marine yelled as the pursuit began. Zoro wasn’t worried about the people chasing him, instead his mind lingered on the Vice Admiral. The way the coat dropped off of their shoulders, their frown, so romantic. Zoro laughed and sped up, this was going to be an interesting pursuit for sure.
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I just want to warn you, this is the first, and absolute worst, fight scene I have ever written. So do not get your hopes up. What I do hope is that you enjoy it anyways!
Have a nice day!
Word Count: 1539
We are at the sight, which turns out to be my training school. The ratings pop up on top of everyone's head. The eleven still looms over the midnight hair. Everyone turns to stare at us as, what the Council already knows as, Will claps his hands. They look confused due to our super suits, but Ro-Bo-Bomber immediately understands. He rips off his glove, presenting a robotic hand. Instead of bombing us though, he just puts his hands up and walks towards us calmly.
“Took you guys almost 100 hours to get me this time.” He looks at me a little confused and turns back to Bennett and Woodley. He’s not the only one, I thought he was supposed to be in a trap. But instead he is just standing with everyone else at school.
“New recruit.” Woodley points at me. “Wrong dosage. You know the drill.” Will looks like he does in fact know the drill.
“Look, Will, we can do this easily or go the more difficult route. All we need you to do is get out of the city. Stop pushing your boundaries.” Bennett says this as if they used to be friends. I don’t understand how this could go bad if Will is just standing there with his hands up.
“You both know exactly what the council is up too, sending along this girl with you.” Will looks uncomfortable. Isn’t this supposed to be a crazy villain? Why are they acting like I am not even here?
“Hey, hi!” I wave my hands at everyone since they don’t even seem to notice I am a real person. “I am, Ni-” Woodley glares at me. “I am Navy.” I correct myself. Will has a brief flash of pain before straightening up.
Everyone around us decides that we are not that interesting, and all the students make their way inside. I wish I could just join them, and learn more about the basics so that I don’t have to deal with this anymore.
“Look, Navy, I really don’t want to do this,” Will looks like he decided he does want to do this, “but I am going to have to.” He looks back to Woodley and The Student, and it seems that whatever Will they knew is no longer in his face. We are looking at the Ro-Bo-Bomber.
“Everyone out of the way!” Woodley yells. But there wasn't anyone to listen, everyone had already walked away. It was probably a required protocol.
“You and your rules, always trying to fake protect everyone.” The Ro-Bo-Bomber smirks. “You, the Council, all they want to do is provide their stability. But we already know what they are truly after.” He gestures towards his hand. “Control.”
Woodley starts stalking towards the Ro-Bo-Bomber. The Student takes something out of his bag and gets into a fighting stance.
“The hard way then.” Woodley smiles.
What happened next was almost slow motion. What was once Will, but now is not, pressed a button on his hand, producing a bomb. It slid perfectly into his palm, which he then simply held there. Woodley tightened her own hands into fists, and the ground started cracking. The Student took a step back, dropping his back behind him.
None of this was out of the ordinary, it seemed like what should have turned into a normal fight. The bomber lashed out and kicked Woodley, but she spun out of the way, and started running towards The Student. But instead of following Woodley the bomber ran towards me.
I start to run towards him, some of my physical training from school kicking in. I raise my arms prepared to fight, but he pushes me behind him as he turns towards my team members, producing a shield. He then throws the bomb towards The Student and Woodley, a shield of tree roots barely covering them.
The bomber shoves something into my hand before producing another bomb, throwing this one immediately on the ground. White smoke immediately took up almost the entire campus.
“Don’t listen to what they say,” he whispers into my ear. I want to grab onto him and ask him what the hell is going on, but when I reach out my hands I am met with mist and smoke. I can’t see anything.
“Navy!” Woodley yells out. “Are you ok? Did Will take you?”
“No, I am ok.” I bring my hand up to my eyes trying to see what Will put into my hand. It looks like another bomb. I put it into my pocket right as The Student walks through the smoke.
“The Council is going to be so pissed.” He looks back to where Woodley is stalking right behind him. “We were supposed to get him out of the city, not make a scene.”
“It’s fine.” Woodley bites this out, obviously not fine. “The Council can deal with a little mess up.” I just watch the exchange silently.
“Ok well sure, the Council can deal with it, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t in trouble.”
“A mess up. That’s all. I said the Council can deal with it.” The smoke starts to dissipate.
“We were tasked with catching him. We didn’t catch him.” Bennett holds up his hand. “I didn’t even put the tracker on him.” He sighs, rubbing his temples.
“Why do you need a tracker if the Council already knew he was in the city?” I wish I just kept my mouth shut because they both give me withering stares.
“The Council has it’s own agenda. They don’t have to tell us any more information then they give. And they do not give out Will’s location.” Woodley looks at the sky and then back at me. “The tracker is for our benefit so we don’t have to tell them we failed.”
“They should be understanding! We all have barely any training!”
“This is training.” Bennett sounds sad.
“Risking other people's lives is training! In what world is that training!” I throw my arms up. “This could have ended with casualties. He had bombs!”
“Keep your voice down!” Woodley shoves my arms back down to my sides. “You don’t want the Council to hear that.” She looks like I slapped her.
“We better get back to the headquarters.” Bennett picks the bag back up from where he dropped it earlier.
“Do you guys have names?” They don’t answer, and continue walking back towards where we left the limo. I decide to keep calling The Student Bennett, and that Woodley would probably be a Brielle.
Bennett reaches the limo first sliding into the far seat from me and Brielle. But before I get in after him, Brielle stops me, with a touch to my arm. I turn back towards her.
“We all lose something to protect the city. Attachments. Names. It’s worth it though. To know that even though you gave something up, you gained the Council’s trust.” She takes out her pony tail and shakes her hair. “Some of us don’t even remember our names, we were put into this at an early age.”
“What about you?” I look down at the ground, the pavement smooth and perfect with no cracks. “When were you put into this?”
“I don’t remember.” I look into her eyes, seeing a little bit of pain. But she blinks it away and climbs into the limo.
Was the memory blocker in the shot supposed to make me forget about my past? Would I ever see my parents again? Were they given a shot to forget me? I sit down into the limo shakily. These two don’t remember anything about their past. If I give it time will I forget mine?
“The Ro-Bo-Bomber escaped.” Bennett says, interrupting my spiral.
“We will have to catch him next time.” Brielle sets out a plan, the goal is to somehow make him come to the lake, near water and trees, so we can enclose him in a cage. “Today's goal is simple. We will go rest. Tomorrow is more difficult. We will present this information to Council, hoping they didn’t already figure out we didn’t catch him first try.”
“Then after that we will have to figure out how much Navy knows about water control.” Bennett points towards me. “We know Woodley can control the trees a little shakily, but what if you can’t control water at all?” He looks back at Woodley.
“We can add that to the list. We will practice a little bit before going back out.” Brielle looks knowingly at me. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Outside the sky opens up, rain falling faster and faster towards the ground. The people who were out on walks quickly run to take cover wherever they can. Lighting splits the sky in half and the thunder is a close crack behind.
The limo drives slowly towards the tall headquarters, the streetlights starting to turn on. I lean my head against the window, close to falling asleep.
But then I see a shadow, and I start. It almost looks like the Ro-Bo-Bomber? He looks into the shaded windows, and even though I am almost sure he can’t tell who it is, he winks. And then he sinks back into the shadows.
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Love of my Life - (6) How it all started
Summary: This is the story of how Dean and Y/N met.
Warnings: Some show level violence. Dean being a sap.
A/N: Okay, we're hitting rewind to delve into some back story before we continue on any further. I loved writing these next few chapters about how Dean and Y/N met. This is set just weeks after Dean returns from hell in S4. The italics are Dean's thoughts. Let me know if you'd like a tag for the rest of the series. Thanks for all the love!
Sam and I were in over our heads and we knew it. What was supposed to be a small nest of vamps ended up being a whole house full. The first few we took care of easily, then they started coming out of the woodwork. Left and right, up and down, they were everywhere. So, we did what we always did; we went to work. Heads were rolling, blood was spattering, fangs were flying, but I was backed into a corner with 3 of them closing in on me and Sam had his own problems. He was on the floor, trying desperately to back away from two onrushing blood suckers. Both of us weaponless, we exchanged looks as if to say goodbye, and I prepared myself to fight for my life.
I raised my bloodied fists, staring straight into the eyes of the monster who would surely kill me. He took half a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks as a quick flash of a blade sliced through his neck so smoothly that his head stayed balanced for a moment before slipping off to the ground with his body following suit. I didn’t have even have enough time to feel shocked when the remaining two vamps who were cornering me met the same fate. What the hell? I thought to myself. I looked up to gauge the situation when I saw her. Long Y/H/C hair danced through the room, swiftly flowing as she expertly beheaded pests left and right, a machete in each hand.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?” She yelled as she slid one of her blades over to me. I picked it up and joined back in the fight. She had already taken care of the vampires after Sam and he was by her side, picking them off quickly. I took care of another three, leaving just two left who were quickly retreating and too far away for us to catch them on foot. The strays had almost made it to the door when I saw the mystery hunter throw her machete, nailing one square in the back. She then grabbed my knife from my hand, flinging it at the other, leaving both of them lying on the ground. Two bullseyes. Damn.
Sam and I jogged over to them, pulled the blades from their backs and, in unison, sliced their heads off. Chests heaving, we looked up at each other, then over to the new girl who was wiping blood from her machete on the jacket of one of the victims.
“Bleh.” I heard her mutter to herself as she casually kicked a severed head from her path and walked over to us.
“Sam and Dean, right?” She asked.
Sam and I, both still shaking off the shock, hesitated to answer. Sam cut the silence. “Uhm, not to sound ungrateful, but who are you?”
“Your new favorite person.” She gave a teasing side smile. “I’m Y/N. Bobby Singer called me and asked if I could check in on you boys. He said something about you having your heads too far up your asses to ask for help.”
I got lost in her eyes when she looked at me and my heart was beating so heavily that I felt my legs shake with every thump. I could only hope she and Sam couldn’t hear it beating. Sam noticed my dreamy state and hit my side, pulling me from the trance. I cleared my throat and desperately searched for the words to invite her to stick around for the rest of the night. I had to get to know her. A million phrases ran thought my mind, but all that managed to slip from my mouth was, “We have a shower.”
Sam dramatically turned his head and looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out my ears. Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded a little. “Okay. Good for you?” She replied, clearly confused.
“Oh, no, I just…. I, uh…” I stammered. Sam quickly interrupted me. Thank goodness.
“I think what my brother is trying to say is that you are welcome to come back to our motel and clean up if you want.”
“I actually have a room not too far off from here, but I appreciate the offer.”
Crap. Say something, Dean! Don’t just let her go.
“Well can we at least meet up with you and buy you dinner? We owe you that.” I, too eagerly, counter-offered, just relieved that I spoke in full sentences.
“Okay, yeah that sounds good. Let me go get this blood washed off first though.” Y/N agreed.
“Great, meet us at that old timey diner on main street at five.” Sam added.
“See you then, boys.” Y/N looked between the two of us and smiled.
“It’s a date!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even thought about them twice. “Well, not an actual date, but you know…” I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced at my own stupid self. Y/N gave a small laugh and sent a wink my way before leaving.
Sam waited until the door was closing behind Y/N before he turned to me. “Dude... We have a shower?” He mocked, clearly trying to suppress his laughter, which escaped in a snort anyway. “You’ve got it bad!”
“I do not!” I tried to fight, but I knew I was lying to myself. Right now, I should be feeling lucky that we didn’t die a horrible death, but all I could think of were Y/N’s deep eyes, brilliant smile and that wink she sent my way. Damn, that wink. “Shut up. Let’s get outta here.”
Sam’s laughter continued all the way back to the motel. He was having way too much fun reenacting the “lost puppy” look on my face.
Sam was in the shower and I walked over to the mirror hanging above the desk and gave myself an internal pep talk.
You are Dean freaking Winchester. Girls don’t scare you and you will not be an idiot tonight!
I gave myself a reassuring nod then reminded Sam to hurry so I could wash all the vampire gunk off of me.
We pulled into the diner just before five and the waitress seated us. The minutes seemed to drag on and I couldn’t help but check my watch every few seconds.
“Dude, relax. I can feel your anxiety from across the table.” Sam said, not picking his eyes up from his menu. I sent him a glare and began to read down the list of food they had here. The bell at the door dinged, signaling someone had entered and my eyes shot up. There was Y/N, dressed in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. How could she be so beautiful in something so casual? She looked around and I waved my hand at her, my heart singing the second she saw me. I was mesmerized by her doing something so simple as just walking over to us at the table.
“You two clean up nice.” She greeted. Sam had purposely sat in the middle of his side of the booth with our coats on either side of him so she wouldn’t have any choice but to sit by me. You would have thought I had just finished running a marathon with how fast my heart was beating.
“So,” she picked up her menu and glanced over it, “you guys been here before? What’s good?”
Sam answered first. “We got some take out last night. The grilled chicken salad is pretty good.”
“Nah, come on. We’re celebrating! I don’t know about you guys, but seventeen vamps inside an hour is a personal record. You can’t celebrate properly with salad.”
I tried my best to hide my smile at her comment.
“My go to is always a cheeseburger of some kind. Preferably with bacon.” I added.
“Mmm, you know what? Bacon does sound good. I’ll go for the BLT.” She smiled and shut her menu, placing it on the edge of the table. Man, this girl just keeps getting better. “So, I’ve gotta admit, I never thought that the first time I’d be meeting the famous Winchesters would be me saving your asses.”
“You’ve heard of us?” I ask, trying my hardest not to stare too much.
“Are you kidding? Everyone in the hunting community knows who you two are. Plus, Bobby loves you boys more than he’d ever admit.”
“I remember Bobby talking about you, too.” Sam joined in. “He said he loved you like a daughter, but he never sent us out on cases with you because he didn’t want us to ruin you.”
“Hah! Yeah, that sounds like Bobby.” Her smile absolutely lit up the small diner. “He told me he didn’t want me ever getting involved with you boys because you were bad influences. Well, mostly just Dean actually.” She looked at me and added, “Bobby said you’re too much of a womanizer for me to be around.”
I didn’t want her to think that I was interested in her just to use her. My soul wanted to get to know hers.
“I used to be.” I admitted. “Not so much anymore.”
“What changed?” Y/N asked.
“I guess going to hell and coming back really changes a guy.” I laughed.
“Fair enough.” Every time Y/N looks at me, I get a rush of adrenaline. I’m trying my hardest not to blush when the waitress comes over to take our orders.
Dinner was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. We exchanged hunting stories and talked about our lives a lot. Y/N’s family had died when she was little, and she bounced around between Bobby and a few other hunters who helped raise her. She seems to be the most put together person for having a past like that.
Y/N excused herself to use the bathroom and Sam made his move. “Alright, Dean, I’m going to head back to the motel. You good to walk?”
“I’m going to give you two some time to yourselves. Tell her I was just tired from the hunt and wanted to head back.”
I give him a suspicious look, but I’m actually more than happy I get some one-on-one time with Y/N.
“Oh, and don’t sleep with her. Bobby will send you straight back to hell.” Sam added with a hard pat on the back as he takes the keys from me and heads out the door.
Y/N comes back and asks where Sam went.
“Oh, he’s kind of a party pooper. He went back to the motel for some shut eye. You don’t mind if I keep you company, do you?”
“I’d like that.” A shy smile crept up on her face.
“So, we’re celebrating. How about some dessert?”
“Hell yes. You are speaking my language. I have the world’s biggest sweet tooth.”
“What are you in the mood for? I guess you get to pick since you saved my ass.” I was obviously hoping she’d choose pie.
“Hmmm,” I look over the small menu off to the side of the table, “chocolate cream pie? I love me some pie.”
“Perfect!” She waived the waitress over and order a whole pie. A girl after my own heart.
A few minutes later, a beautiful, massive pie is set down on our table with two forks and we dive in. I ate my fair share, but Y/N polished most of that thing off.
“I’m impressed.” I sit back and rub my full stomach as I look at her finishing the last few bites of the pie. “I’ve never seen any girl eat that much.”
She shrugged. “I love chocolate. Plus, hunting makes me hungry.”
I can’t help but admire her every movement. She’s so kind and graceful, and her hair falls so perfectly around her shoulders. I can’t find one flaw and I know I’m in trouble. She catches me staring at her a few moments too long, but I shake off the embarrassment and keep the conversation flowing, not wanting this night to end. We talked for hours about anything and everything. Dreams, hopes, fears, music, food, family, and before I know it, the waitress is telling us that we have to leave because they are closing. My heart drops because I just can’t get enough of this girl. Everything in me was so drawn to her.
I open the door for her, and the slight breeze is just cold enough to give her goosebumps. Immediately I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, holding it up enough to let her arms slide in.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“Don’t thank me, I’m only standing here right now because you saved my life.” We stand silent for a few seconds just looking at each other before she breaks the stare and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her car keys.
“Well, let me at least give you a ride back to your motel. It’s too cold out here for you to be walking.”
It wasn’t too cold, but I wouldn’t turn down that offer in a million years.
“You mind driving? I’m pretty sleepy.” She held her keys out to me. Something about the way she said “sleepy” and looked up at me while drowning in my jacket made me go crazy. I hadn’t known this girl for even 12 hours, and she owed my entire heart already.
“Of course.” I gladly took her keys from her and subconsciously placed my hand on her lower back like we were some cheesy-ass couple, but she didn’t stop me, so I left it there as I lead her to the only car left in the parking lot, which I assumed to be hers.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“At the Red Rock motel, about ten minutes that way.” She pointed north. I couldn’t help but laugh as I moved her arm to the right.
“Sam and I are holed up there too, but it’s actually east.”
We both laughed as I started up the engine.
“Don’t judge me. I drove twenty hours straight to save your asses and I’m tired.” She joked. “Plus, I’ve never been that good with directions.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got your own personal compass now.” I sent her a wink, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up on her cheeks, which, in turn, made me blush. Dammit, am I a freaking teenager again?
We pulled into the motel and I walked her to her room. She shrugged off my jacket and thanked me as she gave it back and told me goodnight.
I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of my face the entire walk back to my room, and upon entering, Sam noticed.
“Aww, Dean’s in love.” Sam half mocked from the bed he was sitting on, with his computer in his lap.
“Whatever.” I brushed him off. “You got a new case?” I nodded to the computer and newspapers that he had been studying.
“Yeah, I think so. Some missing people in Montana have shown up with their hearts ripped out.”
“Sounds wolfy to me.” I added as I began to get ready for bed. “Maybe Y/N wants to come with us. You good if I invite her?”
Sam raised his eyebrows at me. “No, I don’t mind. But be straight with me for a minute here. Dean, how much do you really like this girl?”
I didn’t even feel the need to lie. “I really, really like her. Like I’m already in way too deep for not knowing her for a full day.”
“Wow. The great Dean Winchester is whipped. Never thought I’d see that day.” Sam closed his laptop and began to gather up all his papers. “Be honest, was it when she threw the machetes?”
“The freaking machetes, man. That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen…” I trailed off. “But no, I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s just everything about her. I can’t say it’s one specific thing, because it’s just every single detail about her draws me in.”
“Alright Nicholas Sparks, well I’m getting some shut eye and you should too. We have a long drive tomorrow.” Sam turned off the lamp by his bed and turned away from me, snoring almost instantly. I slid under the covers, knowing that I should be exhausted after a long day that involved almost dying, but all I could think about was talking to Y/N tomorrow.
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I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki
It’s a sunday evening, and you’re kicking your feet up. The television is on low, and your apartment smells like the food you’d had for dinner earlier. All things considered, it’s the most relaxing day off you could’ve asked for. You’d slept in, stayed in, and not got off your couch for anything more than food or a bathroom break. It was perfection.
But perfection expires. Even quicker when somebody forcefully shatters it with a fist against your balcony door.
At the sight of Bakugou, you can’t help but be confused. You’d seen him last just a few nights ago, and, as he already proved, he only came around as a last resort. But, even stranger that his mere presence was his appearance. It was nearing evening, and Bakugou was standing behind the glass in civilian clothes. Normal ones, with a scarf and a coat for once- no hero costume or gauntlets in sight. He had a shopping bag held in the other hand, crinkling the plastic with impatience as you open the door for him.
“Back again so soon?” You comment.
“You could try a hello once in awhile, you know.” You sigh, sliding the door open wider for him. “But I guess I’ll let you in. It is pretty cold out.”
“It’s not cold, you’re just a bitch-”
“Ah!” You scold, spinning around to face his smirk. “What did I say about calling women, and me, that?”
“Don’t know.” He shrugs, mouth drawn up in that way you’d quickly come to realize irritated the hell out of you. “Wasn’t listenin’.”
Bakugou brushes past you easily, somehow leading you into your own kitchen. A part of you wants to yell at him for it, but a larger part quickly realizes how much of a lost cause that would be. After all, it would be pretty pointless to yell at a wild animal for acting like a wild animal.
Swinging from his hand is a plastic bag, and with no ceremony whatsoever, Bakugou slams it onto your counter. The sound makes you cringe and you’re not sure what takes more damage- the contents of the bag or your own countertop. Then he turns his back, stepping away without a word. He takes a seat at your table, flipping the chair backwards, settling into it, and resting his chin on his hands- and says nothing, of course, because it’s Bakugou.
“So- what, you’re just gonna leave your stuff there?” You ask, fighting the urge to look inside the bag. “Just, like, out on the counter?”
Bakugou must see your eagerness, because then he’s rolling his eyes. He lifts his head like the gesture pains him, and points loosely towards the bag.
“Go. Look.” He says. “Knock yourself out, leech. ‘s for you.”
“You bought me something?”
“Yeah? And? What about it?” He bites out defensively. “’s not a big fuckin’ deal or anything.”
“Nothing- I- that’s just nice, I wasn’t expecting it. Thank you.”
He seems to fluster at your words, casting his eyes to the floor. But he waves his hand again, and you realize he’s waiting for you to open the gift, so you near the counter.
Inside the bag are new dish rags and high-quality bandages and a mountain of cold compresses. You dig a little further, finding some tissues and gauze and even painkillers. He seems to have accounted for and replaced everything you’d ever given him- and then some.
“I- this is really nice. Really.” You say earnestly, unpacking everything and setting it down on the counter. “Thank you, Bakugou.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Only did it so you don’t think I owe you anything.”
“I never thought you owed me anything in the first place, you know.”
He just shakes his head at that, mouth curling around a subtle smirk. “Only an idiot serves people for free.”
“I don’t- I’m helping you!”
“I know, chill the hell out.” He laughs. “I was kidding, leech.”
You look at him, and Bakugou looks a lot different that you’ve ever seen him. He’s refreshed, skin no longer pallid, his eyes bright and alert. It’s nice, you realize, to see him in something other than pain, absolute exhaustion, or a mood for once.
He almost beautiful- in very much the same way his explosions are. From an incredibly healthy distance.
You shake your head of the thought, turning around quickly before he can notice the heat in your cheeks. It’s a silly thing to be embarrassed about, and you know it, but that doesn’t stop the feeling.
So instead of dwelling on it, you ignore it entirely- spin on your heels and start walking towards your bathroom.
“Where’re ya going now?” He asks, and you hear the chair squeak as he stands. Then he’s trailing behind you for a few steps. “Hah?”
“Bathroom. Gotta get the kit so I can put all the new stuff in it!”
“Well don’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it.”
“I am happy!” You call over your shoulder.
Truthfully, you’re actually little unsure- almost assuming there must be some sort of catch to Bakugou’s gift. Sure it’d be a normal gesture from anyone else, but this was him. He didn’t just do nice things regardless of whatever reason he claimed.
You grab the medkit, striding back out to find him leaning against your counter. His eyes follow you, focused and intent as you start packing the new things away. It’s a little intense honestly- you almost start to wonder if Bakugou even knows how to blink.
“Wow- this is the exact brand I like and everything.” You smile at him, tucking all the bandages away neatly. “How’d you know?”
“The packaging, idiot. ‘s not hard.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe not. But I didn’t expect you’d notice it while you were injured is all- oh, and speaking of, good job! Showing up here, not bleeding out and exhausted, I mean. It’s nice to see you not on the brink of death.”
“Yeah- just means you shouldn’t piss me off. I’ll kill ya for sure this time, leech.”
His tone is a little weird- a little too light, almost teasing. It’s not until you look up at him that you notice- he’s joking. Bakugou Katsuki is making a joke, in your kitchen, and somehow smiling with very little argument beforehand. A part of you is sure that hell must’ve frozen over.
Still, you smile right back, rolling your eyes at him playfully. “Mhm, I get it.” You say. “You’re totally scary and mean. No need to threaten me any more with it.”
Bakugou just nods, seemingly very satisfied with your comment. You wonder if he knows you were being sarcastic, but knowing his ego, you’re not sure it even mattered anyway. You chose to say the words at all, and that was your worst mistake.
You finish putting away all the medical supplies into your kit, organizing it neatly within the compartments. Bakugou watches you intently the entire time, not really moving much aside from taking his previous seat back on your kitchen chair. It’s a silent for a while, nothing but your little shuffling sounds and his quiet breathing- until he clears his throat, sighing and slumping forward against the back of your kitchen chair.
“You going shopping again soon?” He suddenly asks, voice pinched and terse. Like even bringing the subject up at all irritates him. “Gonna be out even later or whatever?”
“I mean- yeah, some time in the next few days? Why?”
His tone is clipped- short and harsh like every other word he’d ever spoken to you, but his expression has shifted. There’s no pretense or tough act to follow his command. No front whatsoever.
“That’s- that’s not really something you get to decide.” You finish unsurely. Something about him is making you nervous- the intensity over something so seemingly trivial. “Why’re you even asking?”
Bakugou straightens in the chair, dropping his arms from over the back. He rolls his shoulders, puffing out his chest with authority. “It doesn’t matter why I’m fuckin’ asking. Just do what I say and stay inside.”
“How many times have I told you this, you don’t get to make orders-”
“It’s not orders.” Bakugou sneers, mimicking your voice. Then he drops the posturing, tilting his head as his voice colors condescending. “I’m saying it’s dangerous, idiot. Quit being so goddamn stubborn.”
“I’m not.” You scrunch your nose at the insult. “And dangerous? Really? I’ve literally never been attacked, not once, in the entire years I’ve lived here. If it’s concern, I appreciate it, but I’m fairly confident I’m fine.”
“It’s- you even listenin’ to me?” He sneers. “I’m warning you. Tellin’ ya not to go out and do something stupid just to prove a stupid fuckin’ point. I’m serious about it- don’t.”
His tone strikes you as odd. Bakugou wasn’t the type to ask for anything. He didn’t bow to anyone or anything, but in that moment you could’ve sworn he was pleading with you. Like he knew something you didn’t. You start to realize you were right earlier, about the way his gift had a catch.
“Bakugou. Did you see something? Like, around here or-”
“No. Not yet.”
You want to tear your hair out. Once again, it seemed Bakugou had you pulling teeth with him, even though he was the one who showed up at your apartment in the first place.
“Not yet? What does that even-” You sigh in frustration. “Look, if you know something, and that something is dangerous, then you need to tell me.”
Bakugou’s entire face to seems to scrunch up at that, but then he’s dragging a hand down his face and smoothing his features. When he looks up at you again, you can see the way his eye twitches. The way his jaw ticks when he leans forward.
“I can’t.” He growls, running a hand through his unruly hair. “If I could just fuckin’ tell you I would, but it’s not that goddamn easy. Even knowing in the first place is how they- just, just fuckin’ listen to me about this!”
Bakugou tilts his head, catching your eyes with his hardened stare. His eyes are solid again, like strengthened steel as he looks at you. It’s almost harder to keep his gaze than it is to even try and look away.
It’s yet another stare off, and up until now, you’d won every match. You had seen him at his worst, had forced him to relent even if it was through brute force- but this didn’t seem like those other times. Between his clenched fists and merciless stare, it didn’t seem like surrender was even part of his vocabulary.
In that moment, Bakugou was serious. More serious than you’d ever seen him before.
“Yeah. Okay.” You say, nodding. “I got it- but I’m not sure what you want me to do exactly? My shift’s graveyard, so if the problem is it being dark and late, then I’m not sure what to tell you.”
Bakugou nods, but he doesn’t look exceptionally thrilled. He rolls his lips together, thinking for a moment, before he speaks. “Same time every night?”
“Yeah? Most nights?”
“Then it’s fine.” He nods once more to himself, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll be there.”
You look at him a little funny, squinting in absolute disbelief, but it doesn’t matter. Bakugou’s already made up his mind it seems.
“What- like every night?” You ask. “You’re just gonna walk me home, every night?”
“Got a fuckin’ problem with it or something?”
“No, but that’s- do you not have a job? I don’t- you really don’t need to go through all that trouble just to pay back whatever debt you think you owe me and-”
“Idiot.” He shakes his head, swearing under his breath. “This isn’t about a stupid debt, alright? It’s about your shitty quirk. And don’t start fuckin’ asking me to explain how, because I won’t, no matter how much you beg. Just believe me, and fuckin’ listen. For once.”
You shrink back a little bit at that- your stomach dropping.
Your quirk? What the hell would your quirk have to do with anything?
“Don’t give me that shit, woman. I already told you.” Bakugou gruffs suddenly. “‘m not saying anything else, so shut up about it alread-
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“Didn’t have to, leech, could see it in your beady eyes.”
“Well excuse me for having a natural reaction!” You snap, squinting at him. “You can’t just walk in here, say something cryptic, tell me I’m in danger apparently, and then expect me to just be perfectly calm about it, alright? It’s not fair.”
To his credit, Bakugou does actually seem to mull over your words for a second. He huffs another breath, something exhausted and a little annoyed before he speaks again.
“Don’t go spiraling about it, leech. Nothing’s even fuckin’ wrong. Yet.” He gruffs. “All ‘m saying is that going out alone at night is a shitty idea, even for you, and you should stop doing it.”
“Okay. Fine. I guess. Even though it feels sorta backwards, I guess stuff like this is pretty much your job, huh?” You sigh. “But what did you mean earlier, about my quirk? What would it even have to do with anything? No one but you even really understands it.”
“Mhm, and we’re keepin’ it that way.”
“That’s unreasonable. I can’t just, like, stop using it. It’s a huge portion of my job!”
“Tough? Tough? Really? That’s all you have to say?” You huff in frustration. “It’s- Look, I can admit you probably have a point about the not going out at night thing, but I’m not just gonna stop using my quirk entirely and-”
“When the fuck did I tell you to stop using it completely? I didn’t, so stop putting your words in my mouth, leech. What I said is you need to stop just fuckin’ usin’ it on everybody you see. Any idiot with half a brain cell could see how strong it is, alright?” He says. “So you need to figure out how to keep it to yourself. Stop drawing so much goddamn attention.”
“Drawing attent- Bakugou! I’m a nurse, alright? Not a celebrity. Not like you.” You huff, irritation coating your words. “I appreciate the concern, but I really, really, don’t think me doing my job, is gonna put me in danger! I hardly have control of it as it is, and I highly, highly, doubt my unimpressive skillset is gonna attract some crazy supervillain!”
Bakugou just stares at you blankly while you rant, hardly even blinking as he lets you calm down. When your settled at bit, taking a deep breathe, he clicks his tongue at you.
“You already did.”
“I said, you already did, you moron.”
“That’s- are you- you’re kidding? Right? Please tell me you’re kidding!”
“What the fuck? Of course I’m not, idiot.” He scoffs, arms flexing as he wraps them around the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t even be here right now if I was. Stupid shit like that is a waste of my fuckin’ time.”
At his words, you can feel the nerves rolling in. It seems your life only got crazier and crazier the longer Bakugou invaded it, but this was something else. You had no business being involved in his world at all, you knew that, and especially not like this. At the very center and seemingly the cause of the problem. It made you feel sick.
“Oh wipe the dumbass look off your face.” Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You really think I’m that useless? Nobody is going to get you. If anything, it’ll just make it easier for me to catch these fuckers with you sittin’ out like bait all the damn time.”
“Bait? I’m not being bait for you!”
“Jesus, leech. That’s not what I meant and you know it, so calm the hell down.” Bakugou reassures. “I meant, they’ll get greedy and sloppy sooner or later. Maybe even do something really stupid like go after you- but it’s fuckin’ fine because I’ll be there. No villian worth anything is dumb enough to come after you in the day, and I’ll walk you home at night. So there’s no goddamn issue.”
“No issue? This entire thing is an issue! I feel like you’re not taking this seriously!”
Bakugou’s eye twitches at that, and you see him huff, pushing the chair away as he stands. He nears you, solid steps against your kitchen tile until he’s just a few feet away. There’s fire in his eyes, raging and relentless as he towers over you, his broad shoulders almost blocking out the overhead light. His expression is pinched something harsh, shadows gathering under a jaw he sets sharp enough to cut steel. In the dim glow of your kitchen, Bakugou looks mean. Much, much, scarier than he’s ever been around you before.
“I am taking this seriously.” He seethes. “Those evil, sadistic motherfuckers are not going to get away with this shit- but this only works, if you do as I say. ‘m gonna blow ‘em to hell either way, and I’d rather not do it with you tagging along as their idiot fuckin’ hostage. So you’re gonna stay in and not take any stupid risks. You understand? Leech?”
A part of you wants to shrink for a moment, cower and collapse under the heat of his gaze. Bakugou is intimidation like you’ve never experienced before, and strangely enough, you find that brings a weird sort of comfort to you; because he looked furious, but he looked incredibly determined too. Like no force on the entire planet, divine or otherwise, could possibly save those villains from his wrath.
“Yeah. Okay. I get it.” You say.
Then he backs off, taking and few steps back and shoving his hands in his pockets. The rage seems to melt off his face, running fluid down his nose until his eyebrows relax and his grimace goes smooth. You’d always thought he’d looked angry before, but compared to his previous expression, you realized you were wrong. As it looked now, around you, Bakugou might as well have been docile.
“It’s- is there anything you can tell me about whoever this is?” You ask shakily. “I know what you said, but I can’t just throw myself into danger like this, alright? If it involves me, I need to know.”
“You can’t. Knowing is the entire fucking issue.”
“What does that-”
“I already told you, I’m not telling you, alright? So fucking drop it.”
“I can’t! How am I supposed to watch out for myself if I don’t even know what we’re up against-”
“We’re? No. We’re not up against anything.” He barks out. “You’re staying inside. I’m serious. No exceptions- that is the only fuckin’ way any of this’ll work. Don’t make it any goddamn easier for them then it needs to be.”
“H-how do you even know any of this? Where is this even coming from? I didn’t even live anywhere near here until I met you, and even that was only months ago!”
“It’s not important how I know. I just do, alright? So stop makin’ this so hard and just quit fighting already. You’ll be fine if you just let me do my fuckin’ job.”
You run shaky hands through your hair, trying to battle the anxiety coursing hot through your veins. A part of you wants to protest, to screech at him, but you’re not sure that would be of any help. Bakugou looked dead set on his plan already, like he’d already strategized ten steps ahead, and, when you thought about it, maybe he did. Nobody could become a top-ranking pro off pure luck, and concerning Dynamite? Well the skill behind the intimidating name was obvious. Bakugou had never been beaten. Not once in his entire career had he ever let somebody get away without injury. It’s a strange, frightening, bloody kind of bright side, but concerning your situation, you figure you’d take what you could get.
And, when you thought about it, maybe his plan wasn’t all that bad. It was just laying low. You could do that. You could do that.
Maybe. If you didn’t die of a panic attack first.
“So- you thought you could butter me up with a gift and then drop a bomb on me, huh?” You ask tiredly, dropping your elbows onto your kitchen counter. You collapse into them, head in your hands as you slump. “Nice strategy, you asshole.”
You hear him exhale something like a laugh behind you.
“Oi- quit your bitching. I told you- I’ll gonna kill them all, so chill the hell out already.”
You turn to look at him, replying flatly. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to kill anyone. Even villains.”
“Not literally, you bitch.” He grumbles. You hear steps behind you as he moves closer. “Just listen to me and you’ll be fine. Don’t go running off and trying to take care of it yourself. Don’t waste my time like every other dumbass civilian.”
When you lift your head up again, Bakugou is leaning against the other side of the counter. He’s towering over your slumped form, and when you look up at him, he actually doesn’t look that pissy. You almost find that to be the strangest occurrence of the entire night.
“Oh god no. No self-sacrifice here. You can do all the fighting, thanks.” You shiver. “Even the thought of it nearly makes me sick. I don’t think I could hurt anybody.”
“Good thing. You’d be flat on your ass in seconds, leech.”
“I would no- actually, no, you’re probably right.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “God, I’m fucked, aren’t I?”
“No. Don’t be so goddamn weak about this. You’re fuckin’ fine.”
“What- you’re gonna protect me?”
Bakugou seems to nearly seize at your remark, his face pinching up into a snarl. If he was half an iota more juvenile you’re sure he would’ve made an audible gagging sound.
“Jesus fuck, shut your mouth.” He barks at you, cheeks flushing. “I’m gonna get ‘em, but it has nothing to do with you.”
“Mhm. Yeah. Whatever. As long as they can’t get to me, I don’t care what reason it’s for.”
You fall into silence after that, and you try to focus on just your breaths. They feel less momentous, less anxiety-inducing, in your world that has quickly become very stressful. You can’t help the nausea settling in your stomach. You were scared.
You’d meant it when you said you couldn’t hurt anybody. Even in a life or death situation, you’re not sure you could do anything to cause harm. It just wasn’t in your nature, and the thought of being violent made you sick almost as much as the fear did. It was a strange sort of battle- one that left your fingers itching for somebody to heal. Somebody to soothe since you wouldn’t get any peace in your own mind it seemed.
After giving yourself a few minutes of grace, just standing there in the fear didn’t seem like enough. You were overwhelmed, yes, but you weren’t alone. Even if he was bit of an asshole, you knew he’d keep his word. You wouldn’t get hurt- as long as you tried your best to be vigilant. With that thought in mind, you turned to Bakugou, trying your best to steady your voice.
“My shift ends at midnight. Or it’s supposed to. Most nights we run late, but there’s not much I can do about that.” You tell him. “I’m not sure if you already knew that or if that’s even helpful, but I figured I’d tell you anyways.”
“So you’re listenin’?”
“Yes?” You ask confused. “It’s not like I could fight them off myself- not successfully like you could at least. What other choice do I have?”
“That’s-” Bakugou shakes his head, disbelief rising for a second before he masks it. “Didn’t expect it, leech. Thought you’d fight like an idiot about it. You wouldn’t believe how fuckin’ stupid most civilians are. You tell ‘em they’re in danger and the morons just stand there and watch.”
“No, I know. I’m the one patching all those morons up, remember?”
He nods, laughing something exhausted before he drags a hand down his face. It’s a strangely humanizing gesture- something devoid of anger and almost bordering genuine connection. You’d come to realize that there were cracks in his armor. Little bits of him that really did seem fond of all those people he worked so hard to save.
“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. And every day afterwards.” You say, rolling your shoulders back. You stretch you arms out in front of you, sighing tiredly. “Congrats on the the promotion to being my glorified guard dog.”
Bakugou scrunches his nose up in disgust, lip curling. “I’m not your fuckin’ guard dog.”
“Kinda seems like it.”
“It doesn’t seem like shit, leech.”
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever you say.”
“I know. God forbid I make a joke, grumpy pants.” You mutter quietly, clapping your hands with finality as you change the subject. “Alright, I think that’s enough panic for the night, thank you. Is that all? Or are there any other horrifying tidbits you wanna share with me?”
“Well that’s- actually, no, I was gonna say that makes me feel better, but it actually doesn’t. Not at all.”
“Don’t be a bitc-”
“Bakugou! What did I say about that word?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Little bitch. Don’t be a little bitch.”
It’s a strange thing to laugh at- an insult in the face of so much fear. But you do. His comment makes you laugh, slices the tension in your string wound far too tight. Bakugou seems satisfied at that, smiling slightly in return as he retrieves his jack and shrugs it back on.
“Oh- you’re not staying? It’s late.”
“Nah. Got patrol, leech.” Then he looks you up and down, squinting at the slippers on your feet. “Some of us actually got our lazy ass out of bed today.”
“Hey! It’s my day off, you dick!”
Bakugou just laughs under his breath, nimble hands winding his scarf back around his neck. “You’re too fuckin’ easy.”
“Only because you’re dead set on being an asshole!”
“That’s- don’t defend yourself!” You sputter, following behind him to the door. “You shouldn’t feel confident about that!”
He just shrugs, pulling open your balcony door with excessive force. He steps out, and the cold air floods in quickly, pinking his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Maybe it’s his lack of costume or his relaxed expression, but suddenly, you can’t help yourself with the words you say next.
“Be careful, yeah?” You say. “I don’t wanna see you again until tomorrow night.”
He looks at you a little strangely, tilting his head almost imperceptibly. Then he’s shaking it off, clenching his fist as a dangerous smirk rolls across his face.
“‘m all good. Bitches won’t even get a scratch on me.”
You’re about to yell at him for word choice again, and he must see it in your eyes. Bakugou waves you off, laughing as he vaults on top of the balcony railing in one leap. There’s sparks popping in his palms, before he turns back once more, cheshire grin and fire in his eyes as he flips you off. Then he’s skydiving below the horizon line and out of sight.
You curse him out, but your words are drowned out by explosions.
When you walk back inside, rubbing the cold from your arms, you realize you left the first aid kit open. You latch it shut, but leave it on the counter just in case. You were being honest earlier- you didn’t want to see him again that night, especially not injured, but you’d help him if you had to.
At this point, it felt like no matter what you did, you just couldn’t get rid of him.
edit: pls y’all i forgot to add the taglist when i originally posted ,,, omg this is so embarrassing whoops
taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful
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Summary: Y/n find out something that changes the course of her relationship and life forever.
Pairing: tony stark x reader x bucky barnes
Warnings: angst and angst and angst, panic attack, swearing, some bitter sweet fluff,
note: I know its a weird change cause i went from she/her to you and stuff but i like writing you more than her so here we are pfft also i mention civil war but this story doesn't fit in the timeline it just fit for the scenario.
You and tony sat on the ship with IVs being stuck into you. bucky sat next to you “hey... wanna talk about it? he ask softly. you shake your head. “not now not yet” you say with tears falling down your face. you had cheated on him. you cheated on the love of your life the person you'd been with for 3 years. Not only that but with someone who has tried to kill bucky on multiple occasions. Tony moved next to you. “Hey...” he said with a sigh. “Promise me we will never ever tell them about this” you say with a panic. he nods frantically. “that's exactly what i was going to say.” and with that you two spent the rest of the time in silence.
You sat in your room. It was 4 days after you got back. you felt weird and had been getting sick for the past few days. The others assumed it was due to your body still adjusting to being on land with consistent water and food. but you had other ideas as to why this could be happening.
Your hands shook as you paced the room. “fuck fuck fuck ok it'll be ok” you said to yourself. you walked into the bathroom and opened the pregnancy test box. panic was all you felt as you took it. you set a timer and walked back to your room. you continued to pace. what would you do if you were pregnant. what would you tell buck? what would you tell tony?! you two promised not to tell anyone. the timer went off. you put your head into your hands. “ok its probably negative i mean what are the chances” you say walking back to the bathroom. you heart was going at a pace that was scary. your whole body was shaking. you grab the test and flip it over.
you stared at the 2 lines. you felt tears fall down your face and your breathing become rapid. a panic attack that's what this was. you fell to the ground as your breathing became uneven. “no no no no no” you say getting louder. you curl up and feel your whole body shake. you try desperately to grab for every breath but its like inhaling nothing. you start to cough from lack of oxygen and tears. snot ran down your face. you grab onto your hair and scream into your legs. the door immediately opens and bucky rushes to your side.
“hey its ok im here” he says putting his hand on your shoulder. “count with me ok” he says. you barely hear him it's like being underwater but you nod with what strength you have. “ now 1″ he says. “1″ you reply dryly your throat is dry and your lungs feel empty.
you two count to 10 slowly. you gradually catch your breath. the shaking stops and you feel more exhausted than ever. he pulls you close. “wanna talk about it?” he ask kindly. you look down seeing the pregnancy test and bucky sees it too. he grabs it and turns it over. his breathing gets deeper and he stands up. he walks back and forth and nods. “tony?” he ask with an angered tone. you nod. his nodding and pacing gets faster.
he walks out the room. you stand up quickly and chase after him. “buck bucky don't” you say quickly seeing him walk towards the one door that would fuck up everything. he nods hard and fast. You feel the tears fall faster and faster. “bucky stop it!” you yell at him. Tony opens the door and immediately is met with a metal fist. “fuck!” tony says holding his nose. Bucky pushes him again which shoves tony down. bucky get on top and keeps hitting him. “bucky! stop!” you say going towards him you try to just pull him but that does nothing.ok next plan. you grab his shoulders “Stop!” you say using your powers.
you keep pulling him and he does stop. he falls back into your lap. “you promised me you'd never use your powers on me” he says looking up at you. “i'm sorry buck” you say tears falling still. his head falls back onto your stomach. tony looks up at you his face bloody and beat. the metal fist definitely did not help. he looks at you confused. “im pregnant” you say to him. you see his eyes widen. “wha-what” he says shaking his head.
“shes fucking pregnant with your damn child” bucky says trying to pull out of your arms. you panic and hold him with all your strength. “sleep” you say feeling him go limp in your arms. tony just blinks looking down at the floor. “your....” he says trailing off. his breathing gets deeper.
Doors open in the hall. natasha is the first to come out then steve. Bruce slowly emerges. Wanda and vision come out in a worry. Clint is the last to come out hes geared up ready for a fight. “what's going on?” nat asks. they see tony and bucky's bloody fist. “I thought we were past this?” steve ask in a panic. you look up at wanda and natasha.
Steve takes bucky away from your lap and takes him to the main room and lays him on the couch. You stand up with natasha and wanda's help. vision,clint, and bruce still look concerned but less worried. “anyone gonna tell us what happened?” clint ask.
Bruce hands tony a rag to put on his possibly broken nose. “uh let's go sit on the couch.” wanda says leading you to the main room. bruce helps tony to the couch. “I should...” you say nodding to bucky. They nod as you slowly go to him. you put your hands softly on his head. “wake” you say and immediately bucky shoots up angry and tears edging his eyes.
“buck buck hey calm” steve says grabbing bucky's shoulders. Buck stares at steve angrily. “sooo?” clint ask sitting on the couch. nat and wanda sat down too. you were in front of all of them. “tony and I spent a month and a half up there.” you start off. everyone sits up more. neither you or tony had spoken of your time up there sense yalls return.
“We saw no end and I was about to have a meet and greet with death himself. Tony was giving up his food and water to keep me going” you say looking down messing with your hands. “I don't understand why this led to bucky beating she shit out of tony.” Clint ask. “let her finish” steve said. “We got closer than ever and had agreed that there was no chance at us returning. We were desperate to stop the pain to just be with someone be cared for before the end. We slept together.” you state. bucky's breathing gets more rapid and his hands form fist. everyone starts to yell at tony natasha tried to silence it which only made her a target.
“Shut up!” you say yelling at them. They look at you surprised. “shut up before we end up with another battle and let me fucking finish what the hell i'm saying before attacking tony which by the way it takes two to tango so shut up please.” you say looking at the floor hands making fist. everyone turns to you and shuts up even bucky and tony.
“Now I am pregnant with tony child. Now before you all start yelling and attacking tony just try to understand the situation.” you say. “Understand the situation?!” bucky yells. steve tries to calm him. “no no just no ok. He mmm he saw her vulnerability and used it!” bucky says standing up and pointing at tony.
“Buck no that's not it he didn't do that. I saw a world without you with no one except me and tony on that stupid ship dying slowly and mercilessly.” you say feeling tears falling again. natasha stood up and walked to you. “I know your pissed as hell at tony and at y/n but right now” she points at tony “you are going to be a father” and she points at bucky “and if you stay, which i think you should, are going to be a step father so let's just try to deal with that right now.”
Natasha held you by her side. Bruce stood up “I’ll help it whatever way I can.” he said. “me too” clint said standing. “I will too” vision said standing. Wanda stood “You always got me.” she said with a small smile. steve looked at bucky then tony and then you. He sighed and stood up “you got me too” he said with a nod.
you swallow “thank you all of you” you say softly then look to tony and bucky. “You definitely have me i'm not going to bail on my child just because its a complicated situation.” tony said standing up. bucky let a soft growl out. “buck?” you ask hesitantly. He looks up at you and shakes his head. He walks off and soon yall hear a door slam.
You dropped your head. “Give him time” nat whispered to you. you nod. she nods to steve and steve nods and walks after bucky. natasha takes you to your room nodding to tony who nods back and walks to the kitchen. sittin on your bed you look down at your stomach. there's a person in there well soon they'll be. nat sat next to you “how're you feeling?” she ask. “I don't know...Im going to have a child and it's not the child of who i always pictured it as. I broke the love of my life's heart and broke tony and I’s promise.”
“bucky just needs time is all steve is talking to him and i'm sure tony understands that you couldn't keep it a secret you two made that promise when you didn't know you were pregnant and don't worry you have all of us here to help and protect you.” nat said. “I’m an avenger...I had a father who used me as a testing subject and gave me powers i couldn't control till i was 17 how am i supposed to be a parent? Their father is a billionaire who is ready to die at any shot and their possible step father was born in 1917 and was brainwashed to be a murderer.” you spew out.
“you'll be ok we are all broken and a mess but together we can raise this child. I promise. We will figure it out” she says rubbing your arm. The door opens and in comes tony with a glass of water. “figured you could use this” he says walking towards you. nat looks at you and you nod. she stands up and walks out.
Tony sits next to you. “i'm sorry” you say immediately scared of tony being angry. “no no don't apologize you had to say something its not like you could just avoid questions when your stomach grows.” he says with a chuckle. “y/n i want you to know i am going to be the best damn father i can be and if you and bucky stay together...because you and bucky will stay together i know he will have a huge role in that child's life and i'm so glad they get 3 parents who love them more than anything in this world. I will protect the with my life I will not die for them. I will live for them.”
“Tony...” is all you can get out through choked sobs. you hug him holding him close. “thank you” you say pulling away “what about pepper?” you ask concerned. “I’ll tell her just need to let this” he moves his hand to the room “settle before any more people get mad” he says. the door slowly opens and an exhausted, messy haired, red eyed, wrapped hand, bucky opens the door. upon seeing tony he sighs.
“can I speak to her alone?” he says with no emotion. tony nods and walks past bucky out of the room. tony closes the door behind him and walks towards the bed.
he sits next to you and sighs. “buck-” you starts but he cuts you off “don't....let me speak” he says. “I am pissed as hell at you dont get me wrong...but i understand...you didn't see a possibility as being back here all you saw was death. I will be the best step father i can and the best boyfriend i can be. I am far from forgiving you but I still love you and I don't want us to end and this child is amazing news even if they aren't mine. I will be as much of a father to this kid as I can be and I will raise them as my own. I'm here for the long run.” he says looking at you. you smile and hug him. “I love you too bucky...thank you” you say.
This journey was far from over but for now the world felt damn good. This kid would have 3 parents who love them more than anything or anyone in this world.
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even if we survive | 03
pairing: jimin x named!reader
word count: 7k.
genre: hunger games au, enemies to lovers, angst, smut, tiny fluff moments.
summary: thrust into an arena you’d always feared, with a boy out for revenge, you worry your life may swiftly come to an end. allies are formed, friends lost, enemies around every corner; when you and jimin finally come face to face on the battlefield, who will survive?
chapter warnings: mentions of violence
Footsteps closed in on you, the sound of crunching leaves on the forest floor thundering through your ears as your heartbeat got louder and louder. Sweat trailed down the skin of your face, your breathing laboured as you crouched behind a bush; praying that somehow you would remain undetected.
“Areum!” You heard an all too familiar voice call out, panic stricken and hurried.
Swiftly spinning around, your eyes searched for your father as the calls of your name became more desperate and rushed. He was nowhere to be seen, anxiety coursing through your veins; how was he even in here with you?
Deciding that finding your dad was more important, you quickly rose to your feet and sprinting in the general direction of his cries. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as his voice became deafening, dread pooling in your stomach as his words turned into head-splitting screams. Tears threatened to fall, but your feet wouldn’t stop on the mission to find the one man who you’d always counted on, the one man who should never have had to step foot back into that damned arena.
A large cabin came into view, familiar in a way, but you had no time to dwell on the similarities it held to a building you once called home. Racing through the front door, you immediately noticed the artwork that always hung in your hallway, the anguished yelps vibrating through the building as you rushed towards the bedroom you had checked far too many times in the middle of the night as you grew up.
Crashing through, you saw your father flailing in his bed, tearing at the skin on his arms as he re-lived yet another memory from his time in the Games. His face twisted in torment, his nightmares taking an even darker turn.
“Areum!” He bawled, the tear stains streaked down his cheeks making you all too aware of what was happening in his mind.
Your feet anchored you to the floor, unable to reach him regardless of how hard you tried, your father calling your name a few more times, until his voice morphed into that of another; your shoulders shaking as though someone was vigorously moving you around.
“Areum!” Yoongi yelled, aggressively waking you from the nightmare. “Wake up, dammit!”
Gasping for air, the fingers of your left hand tightly twisting into the fabric of his t-shirt as your right hand grasped his wrist. You tried to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that it was just a dream, that you weren’t in the arena yet and that your father was back home safe and sound with your mother by his side; he wasn’t alone.
“What the hell was that about?” The dark haired boy at your side questioned, awkwardly allowing you to keep hold of him. His eyes that were usually filled with distaste were suddenly swirling with confusion and a hint of concern. “You were screaming so loud that you woke me up, I’m surprised Yuna managed to sleep through it.”
Loosening your grip as you came back to reality, you could barely meet his gaze. “It was nothing, just forget about it.” The last thing you needed this close to the arena was one of the two men who had it out for you realising just how weak you truly were.
“Like fuck it was nothing.”
“Careful, Yoongi, I might start to think you actually worry about me.”
The scowl you had become so accustomed to returned, his hands shoving yours away quickly, voice close to a growl. “I just don’t need you waking me up the last two nights we have in this place. Some of us want to sleep before we’re in there.”
Though his words were meant to sound angry, his tone was only half-hearted compared to what it usually was. You could see the doubt in his lingering looks, in the way he couldn’t bring himself to leave your bedside. “It was just a nightmare, Yoongi, plenty of people have them.”
“Not to the point where they’re screaming so loud the entire building could hear it…” He mumbled, mostly to himself.
“Well now you know what my life has been like the past ten years.”
You hadn’t meant to say it, the last thing you needed was to argue with him and you were almost certain he’d take your words as an excuse to insult your father; convinced that he would scoff at you for the umpteenth time, saying he would never in any way feel sympathy for your family.
To your surprise, the argument never came, instead his posture completely changed and his shoulders seemed to slump. His eyes were distant, as though he were stuck in his own memories instead of thinking about what you’d said. After a few moments, he looked at you with an understanding that you didn’t think you’d ever see.
“That day we got into a fist fight, you had particularly deep dark circles under your eyes and I asked if your father had taken what he learned in the arena and started using his skills at home…” He recalled, voice barely audible as the pair of you relived the memory that got your name thrown into the pot. “It’s the only time you ever lashed out at anything anyone said.”
Picking at the fabric of the blanket, you faintly shrugged in response. “... I was tired.”
You didn’t need to say anything more, he knew what you meant. That, yes, you were tired after being kept up all night by your father’s torturous screams from his memories and paranoia, but you were also mentally and emotionally drained from the amount of times you’d had to hear people talk shit about the man you’d always known to be kind and caring.
His fingers twitched at his side, almost as though he were away to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, but he kept to himself and cleared his throat instead. “You should try to get some sleep, it’s the parade in the morning, we need to look well rested.”
“Right, got to fake that united front.” You sighed, already exhausted at the idea of playing up to the cameras. It was already difficult that you all had to enter a tournament to the death as it was, having to act as though you were happy about it and building friendships was just cruel.
Laying back down as he retired to his own room, you cursed the day your father’s name was called at the Reaping. Had you been the only member of your family to enter the Games, you could have possibly fought to survive as much as you knew the others would. But you were at a disadvantage, you saw what came after the victory, what would haunt you for the rest of your life.
Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to forget about the world around you and what was to come, hoping to get some semblance of peaceful rest before the chaotic day ahead of you.
But the screams of your father continued to echo in your mind.
The fabric of your dress felt foreign between your fingers. You felt ashamed to be wearing such expensive clothing whilst so many across the country suffered and struggled to cloth themselves at all.
“They’re sure getting through these interviews fast.” Wonho sighed from your left, legs bouncing up and down as if he were trembling. It was clear that he was nervous, wanting to do anything other than take to that stage. “That guy from District 4 is already almost done. Why couldn’t I be from District 12?”
Placing a gentle hand on his knee, you smiled a comforting beam in his direction. “You’ll be alright, just smile and wave.”
“Smile and wave… Smile and wave, smile and wave, smile and-”
The sound of his repetitive mumbling drowned out after a moment, your ears focusing on the screens in front of you where Park Jimin was asked about his father. Not only that, but the ever so smug looking host, Galvan, decided to drop the hint of the District 7 winner from the same year. There was a twinkle in his eyes, as though he knew exactly what he was doing.
The raven haired boy was noticeably upset from the topic change, body tensing and eyes defocusing whilst he struggled to keep himself together.
Mere moments later the familiar music played through the speakers, the boy from District 4 being ushered from the stage and into the awaiting arms of a girl you had only noticed a handful of times.
Your feet moved of their own accord as you watched the pair separate, the female needing to take to the stage for her own interview as Jimin attempted to escape the nearby area. In no time at all, you felt your own hand wrap around his wrist and pull him to a stop before he could reach the exit.
“What the hell do you want?” He sneered as he turned to see your face, ripping himself away from your grip. “In what way did it ever seem like I wanted you anywhere near me?”
“I think it would be beneficial for us to talk about the obvious tension here.” Struggling to keep his attention as he rolled his eyes, you powered through. “There is no reason for us to hate each other just because of what happened years ago.”
“What happened?” Jimin’s eyes turned from the sadness you’d seen him trying to conceal, to rage within seconds. “Don’t speak of my father’s death so flippantly.”
Feet edging backwards, you knew the threat in his gaze was not one to be taken lightly. When your back hit the wall behind you, it was obvious that you may have made a bad decision. “I don’t see how I’m deserving of your hatred.”
“You just spoke to me as if the biggest heartbreak of my life was nothing, like I should have gotten over it by now and forgiven your dad for taking mine away. You really can’t see why I would hate you?”
“Surely you can’t think I meant what I said in that way?” You could feel tears threatening to well up in your eyes, cursing yourself for being so weak. “You should never have to accept what you’ve been through. But you shouldn’t put yourself through so much more suffering by holding on to that anger.”
His eyes searched yours, the rage still fiery within him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hate you and your family for what your father has done.”
“I’m not my father.”
A well timed cough made you suddenly aware of how close Jimin and you had become after he’d backed you into a wall. The raven haired boy not so much as bothered to glance in the direction of the noise as his eyes narrowed towards you with a new emotion that you didn’t have the time to read.
“You’re up next.” Yoongi explained, his own gaze focused on Jimin though his words were directed at you. “Best not to keep the crowd waiting.”
Examining your unwanted enemies face one last time, you shuffled out from between him and the wall and towards the stage as the music played aloud. You only allowed yourself one more glimpse behind you to watch his back disappear down the hallway, before taking a deep breath and walking up the dazzling steps.
The rock that often formed in your stomach recently was ever present as you took to the stage, the cheers of the audience drowned out by the vibrating in your ears as you hoped you wouldn’t get asked about your father. Your father was the last person you wanted to talk about, especially after the confrontation you’d just forced yourself through.
You should have known that, much like any other you’d make over the next few days, was an impossible hope.
Once the initial questioning had ended, the same thing asked of each tribute, it got to the time of the night that would leave you backed into a corner. Each one of you had at least one personal conversation that was specifically targeted at you; of course your father would be yours.
“So, Areum, I believe we have a legacy amongst us.” The host, Galvan, grinned, his eyes burning with the need for drama and discomfort from the tributes. “Your father won the Games he took part in, did he not? You must be itching to keep up the family name.”
The false smile you’d struggled to keep hold of threatened to fall, the mere idea of it being an honour to win the Games always a disgusting one to yourself. You didn’t want to win, nobody really should. “I would very much like to see my parents again, that much I can say.”
Coos and warm smiles erupted from the crowd, each of them seemingly moved by the love a tribute could have for their family. You’d love to see what they would all be like if they were in your position, of course, nobody in the Capitol would ever be subject to the torture of the arena.
“Have you trained before your arrival here? I’m sure dear old daddy wouldn’t want to risk your safety.” The extravagant man asked, the wheels turning in his head clearly visible to yourself. You knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to bring up Jimin.
“He did. My father is a very loving parent, he would never have forgiven himself if this had happened and he hadn’t prepared me to the best of his ability.”
The smile on his face darkened, the wording he’d decided for his attack clearly decided. “Oh, I’ll bet. I’m sure that only heightened when he heard the name of the District 4 tribute, yes? As we already discussed with him, his father was also in the very same year.”
“So I’ve been told.” You sighed, fingers twitching with the fabric of your dress whilst you tried to think of the best thing to say. “But, I’m not my father and he isn’t his… I think we should be able to go into that arena without any ill will towards each other. Hatred is never the best direction.”
The crowd applauded once again, something you’d expected since you were told to act as though all of you were friendly and readily excited to take part in the annual slaughter.
“And what about, Mr Min Yoongi?” Galvan questioned, eyes tight in suspicion, hoping to get something interesting and controversial out of you.
You only hoped that nobody noticed your body tense, shoulders hard and unmoving at the mention of your district partner.
“Are the two of you close at all? Park Jimin seems to have a close ally from his district after all, can you say the same?”
“Honestly? If District 7 is the one that ends up victorious this year… I hope that victory doesn’t lie with me.”
“What a selfless thing to say…” Galvan nodded in appreciation at your words, facing the crowd with his arm outstretched towards your form. “Let’s give it up for Choi Areum, everyone.”
The cheers of the audience barely registered when you left the stage, the emotions you’d fought so hard to keep at bay during the interview threatening to overcome you any moment.
As you reached the bottom few steps towards the waiting area, Taemin patted you on the shoulder as he made his way towards the stage. “You did great.” He beamed, eyes turning into little crescents as he complimented you. “Wish me luck.”
“You’ll be okay.”
Turning around, you were met with a sight you didn’t expect; Min Yoongi waiting patiently for you at the bottom of the stairs. His gaze was focused on you, expression unreadable when he raised his hand in an offer to help you down in your dress.
You slid your palm into his own, choosing to keep quiet as you waited for him to speak.
“Let’s go back to the room, I need to talk to you.”
The pair of you entered the living area of your temporary housing in silence, the avoxes sensing the tension in the air and decidedly leaving the room. Yoongi’s back was tense, words on the tip of his tongue since he met you from your interview, fingers twitching at his side with anxiety.
Itching at the skin of your arms, you felt far too uncomfortable in the delicate dress to stay in it for much longer, feet shifting towards the hallway so you could change into your training gear for your final session.
Before you could get far, your fellow tribute wrapped his hand gently around your wrist, halting your movements for a moment. The silence stretched out a few seconds longer before he finally muttered the words he’d been running over in his mind. “I shouldn’t have resented your family for as long as I have… Your father just did what he needed to, he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”
Turning to face your old friend, barely visible in the dim lighting provided during the night, noting the regret swimming in his eyes as they stared deeply into your own; his thumb softly grazing over your skin before pulling you into his body. When his arms wrapped around you, you froze, incapable of processing the change in the man who’d treated you as an arch enemy only a week ago.
“I was a child.” He whispered, his hold tightening around you with a silent plea to accept his apology. “I’m sorry…”
Without another thought, your arms wrapped firmly around him, fingers grasping the fabric of his suit as though this were the last chance to do so; though you suppose that it actually was. From this point until you were in the arena, there would be no time for socialising or reconciliations, only time for preparations and final training.
“Know that I mean what I say, but Areum…” Yoongi’s words dwindled after your name, hesitant with his next sentence with a reluctance to keep speaking. “If we cross paths in that arena I’ll have no choice, you know that...”
He didn’t elaborate, there was no need to. If the two of you ran into each other, he would have to kill you without stopping to so much as think. The Games was a kill or be killed situation for the majority in there, Yoongi had absolutely no plans to be killed.
The air felt cold around you as he pulled away, disappearing towards his bedroom to get changed for the last training session, though you stayed still for a few seconds after his departure.
At least two things in your interview hadn’t been a lie.
For one, you truly did hope that if someone from your district had to be the victor, you genuinely hoped that it would be Yoongi instead of yourself. Other than that, you actually did have the Games to thank for your friendship with the boy being, at the very least, partially mended before your potential death.
You just wished it didn’t have to be this way.
Sweat gathered at your temple, your fist swinging for your training partner’s abdomen as you prayed for an ending to the final training session. However, Wonho swiftly caught it, turning your arm around your back and forcing you to swipe your leg behind you at his ankles to break free.
“Okay, okay.” He beamed, holding up his hands in surrender with a hearty chuckle. “I concede for now, it’s been a good 20 minutes.”
Swiping at the moisture on your forehead, you nodded in agreement, searching the floor with your eyes for any sign of a water bottle with actual liquids in it. “I think we drank all our water.”
“I’ll go get some more, be right back.”
Collapsing to the mat at your feet, you stretched out your arms and legs in the hope of avoiding any cramps. Your muscles burned from the strenuous activities of the past hour or so, leaving you daydreaming of your soft mattress upstairs waiting for you to retire for the night.
Two feet appeared at your side, your eyes rising in the hopes of seeing Wonho holding out a beverage to you. Instead, you were met with the sight of the boy you’d been warned against. The boy who just a few hours ago, had you riled up to the point of chasing after him for confrontation.
“You sure look like you know what you’re doing.”
Pushing yourself up to your feet, you attempted to pass him, simply saying “I guess so.” as you tried to end the conversation there.
“Good to know you’re well equipt to murder those around you like your father.”
He’d struck a nerve, and though you knew from past experience that you should let it go and forget about it, but you were exhausted from the training and the endless comments about your father whilst you’d been there and you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth. “That’s the difference that comes from training with a survivor.”
As soon as the final word left your lips, you knew you’d made a mistake, Jimin’s features sharpening into pure rage as he lunged towards you; fist connecting with your lower arm as you blocked the blow to your face.
You countered and blocked every hit and kick he tried to throw at you, the annoyance and rage that you’d kept at bay building with every connection. You felt a few scrapes on your arms, knowing that there would be tiny cuts once this was over. There was no reason for you to be infuriated, of course he would be angry about what happened to his own father, but you were done with everything, you were already done with the Games themselves, so you finally lost yourself and turned on the offence; not even noticing the small crowd that had gathered around you.
Your fist flew upwards, finally connecting with his jaw with a crack as he stumbled back.
Before Jimin could even get his footing right again, the muscular form of Wonho appeared between the two of you. “Okay, okay! Break it up, save this energy for the arena.” His arm was outstretched towards the dark haired boy who still glared daggers at you from across the mat, serving as a shield for your tired body.
However, he showed no sign of stopping until the form of a girl, who you barely recognised as the other tribute from his District, stepped forward with the slight call of his name; his features morphing from loathing to something else entirely in a split second.
“Come on.” Wonho ushered you away from the dissipating crowd, prying your attention away from the pair from District 4. “What were you thinking? Are you trying to make the target on your back that much bigger?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, the guilt from your last words towards Park Jimin settling into your stomach. There was no need for what you’d spat at him, but you’d been exhausted, tired of constantly having to defend your father’s actions to yet another person.
It reminded you exactly of the fight you’d had with Yoongi not that long ago, the fight that had landed you in the Games in the first place. With that thought, your eyes locked onto the boy from your District; his eyes holding the silent question of if you were alright.
Sending a barely recognisable nod in his direction, he took you at your word and went back to his own training. You almost thought that you’d imagined the entire interaction, that he’d simply just glanced your way at that moment and happened to catch your eye.
“This might sting a little.”
As your muscular ally swiped at the small cut on your knuckle with disinfectant, you sucked in a harsh breath, the pain reminding you of the time you’d fallen into nettles as a child. “Guess my hand to hand training skills are a bit rusty.”
“Trust me, it isn’t that.” He chuckled, tenderly smoothing a circular plaster over the tiny wound. “You trained with me absolutely fine, what you did with that boy wasn’t training. Areum, he’ll be out to kill you in the arena, was fighting the night before really necessary?”
“I don’t know what came over me, he just kept mentioning my father and I guess I just lost myself for a second.”
Wonho looked at you with pity for the slightest moment, patting your hand before he pulled you back up to your feet. “Training was almost finished anyway, you should go get some sleep while you still can.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Your feet hesitated for a second, knowing that as soon as you walked out of that training area that you wouldn’t see anyone until each and every one of you was in the arena. “I’ll see you in there.”
One thing you were thankful for, was the knowledge that you’d have at least a couple of friends in there. They wouldn’t try to kill you whenever they saw you, they’d try to protect you just as much as you’ll fight for them. A ghost of a smile graced your features as you heard his departing words to you.
“I’ve got your back.”
Yuta sat opposite you in the room that had become your solace; his fabrics room. He’d gotten you dressed into everything you needed for the arena, fully suited up for what would be the worst, and potentially last, experience of your life.
“You’re strong enough, my love.” The man whispered, gaze heartbroken as he watched your despondent features. “We both know that you would be fully capable of owning this year.”
“We both know my thoughts on that.”
He simply sighed at your words, finally raising his hands that were holding a device you’d only heard of before now. It was obvious that he didn’t want to put that thing anywhere near you, but the pair of you knew that neither of you had a choice.
Inspecting the new technology, your eyes shifted between the device and Yuta’s eyes. “Is it going to hurt?”
“It’s akin to a simple bee sting.”
As you felt it pierce the skin of your wrist, a sharp hiss left your lips. It was nothing compared to what was to come, you knew that, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. It didn’t help that you knew that a toxin lay in waiting for you to make a single mistake and seep into your veins.
“You need to make sure you take note of anyone nearby, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re ever safe with anyone in there.”
It was hard to have a real conversation in your last hour. You faintly ran your index finger around the tracker’s edges. “I don’t know, maybe getting my death out the way would be the easier way. Couldn’t it be less painful?”
“Let me ask you something in return.” Yuta smiled softly, a gentle hand lightly stroking a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want your father to watch you give up from the very beginning? Is that how you want your last moments to be? To be a moment your father relives in his memory for days to come knowing that you chose to just die?”
He was searching your eyes for the answer he already knew you were thinking. “No…” The tears were threatening to fall, threatening to overcome you. “No, I don’t want that.”
“I know, love.”
When you turned to collect yourself, you felt the cold metal touch your neck as your stylist raised his hands to put on your one personal memento for the Games; the necklace you got from your father.
The little golden tree sat perfectly in the space left unclothed. You suddenly felt right for a second, like your father had somehow managed to fit every ounce of his support into the tiny piece of jewelry.
The peacekeepers knocked at the door, signalling the end to your little moment of peace; ironically.
Yuta pulled you into one last hug, wishing you good luck and letting you know that he was rooting for you. He hadn’t grown fond for any of his other tributes before, so you were a shock to his system, making it just slightly harder for him to do his job this time; for that, you felt like you owed him.
“I’ll try to stay alive.”
Standing in front of the closed pod, your heartbeat quickened as the realisation that you’d soon be in the fight for your life sunk in; seeping into your soul like a thick black tar. Goosebumps raised on the flesh of your arm as the seconds ticked by, your entrance to the arena less than two minutes away. Your lungs struggled to fill with air as you thought about what was to come, the pain and bloodshed that would occur around you.
A slight cough from your right distracted you from your thoughts for a moment, Yoongi giving you the slightest nod of acknowledgement as the whoosh of the pods opening broke through the silence.
He’d fallen asleep in the chair by your bedside the previous night, saying that it was a better sleeping circumstance than risking being woken up by your screams like the night before. You were grateful to him for that, and understood completely why he’d disappeared by sunrise, the words from your small embrace prior to training ringing in your ears.
“If we cross paths in that arena I’ll have no choice, you know that...”
In the final moments before you each had to enter your respectful pods, he almost looked regretful for a split second, before disappearing from your sight.
Taking one final breath, you tentatively stepped forward, turning to face the glass doors as they closed you off to your only escape. You could feel the mechanics whirring underneath your feet before the pod started it’s ascent towards the arena, only the metal walls visible as you were momentarily met with darkness.
You mentally ran through all the pointers that your father had given you throughout the past few years of your training, recalling the main point he’d hammered into your memory time and time again; do not run towards the cornucopia.
Every year you watched as so many made the same mistake, running towards the weapons in plane sight without thinking of the consequences; the other tributes charging in the same direction with the hope that they just might get there first.
The artificial sunlight arrived all too quickly, causing you to squint against the bright sunbeams; one hand involuntarily raising to lessen the intensity as your eyes adjusted to the new surroundings. Tributes stood facing the centre, each on a podium much like your own, equally spaced out in the form of a giant circle; each one looking just as lost and confused as the others for their first few seconds inside the arena before they came to their senses and started to plot their next plan of action. You could already tell which ones were planning on making a dart for the middle, their gazes shifting between the range of weapons and the other tributes who they guessed were going to make the same move.
To your left were Wonho and Changkyun, both nodding in your direction to confirm they would stick with your original plan of making a run for it the second the buzzer rang before scanning the arena to see where Taehyung was situated. On your right, eyes focused on the cornucopia, was Yoongi. He looked tenser than usual, body ridgid with determination as he refused to look your way. It was something you’d expected from the moment you stepped foot into that pod, knowing that as soon as you reached the top you’d be enemies in the fight for survival.
Examining the treeline behind you, you noticed a small backpack strap that was barely visible in amongst the shrubbery. It was something your father had told you, that there would be weapons and supplies randomly hidden around in less obvious areas for you to find. You were almost certain that you could see the glint of a weapon in the same place, calling out to you so you wouldn’t need to risk your life in the first few seconds.
The all familiar fanfare sounded on the speakers, signaling the final countdown to The 74th Hunger Games. An automated voice echoed around the area, listing the rules for all those new watchers at home to understand as the one minute countdown appeared in the dome shaped sky alongside each tribute’s profile.
“At precisely 12pm every day the tracking devices in each wristband will send out a GPS signal to make the other tributes aware of the locations of each living contender, your District partner’s location will be displayed as a unique colour.”
The wristband that dug into your skin felt all the more heavy with those words, knowing that there was a large possibility of Yoongi using such information to his advantage. You’d been told that the colour of your particular dot would be green; ironic that a colour often linked to positive situations was to be your warning of danger for the remainder of your time there.
“With every individual that falls, the canons will sound to alert the others of one less contender in the arena. It would be wise for others to note when this happens, and take heed of those that remain.”
The canons, the very noise that your father screams about on a night, the marker of death within the Games. He often spoke about how bittersweet those booms often were, a sign that there was one less person who would be fighting to execute you; but one less person would get to return to their families.
“The Hunger Games will broadcast live between the hours of 6am and 10pm, during this time all counts of attack and injury are perfectly legal. Between the hours of 10pm and 6am, you must lower your weapons and retreat from any fights in the area. Anyone who takes the life of another during this time will be punished severely and must forfeit their place.”
You almost scoffed, the idea that murder was only legal when used for entertainment a foreign concept to you; even if you’d grown up with it being the norm your entire life. Nobody back in District 7 enjoyed this competition, nobody respected the victors or the Capitol, they resented the Games, resented those who controlled the arena and worked to turn the demise of so many loved ones into a reality tv show.
“May the odds be ever in your favour.”
The tagline sent a chill up your spine, blood running cold when you took note of the clock finally starting and the automated voice sounded out the countdown.
Inspecting the unnatural sky, sorrow seeped into your soul as you wished you could see a bird or two soar through the false winds. The silence around you put you on edge, making you miss the simplicity of a bird’s song from when you used to sit high in the trees. There was a good chance that you would never get to hear such things again, and you realised just how much of your life you had truly taken for granted.
Your pulse was racing, chest rising at an alarming rate as you tried to calm yourself, tried to focus on the training you’d put so much effort into. There was no room to panic, no room to hesitate once that countdown ended. If you did either such things, you would die before your feet stepped off the podium.
Noticing Yoongi’s fingers twitch by his sides, you wished that you could comfort him, wished that you could reassure him once more that nothing he did inside this arena would make him a monster. He would do what he had to, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.
Eyes falling off to the far left, you noticed a tribute vigorously shaking his head to the female at his side; Park Jimin. It seemed as though his friend from District 4 was planning to risk the cornucopia and he was smart enough to try and warn her. Unfortunately, the stubbornness in her gaze made you feel sympathetic to the pair, there was a high probability that she would be one of the first to fall.
This was it, your hand raised to lightly grasp the necklace that hung beneath your throat, the delicate golden tree giving you one last moment of peace before you would have to run. You positioned yourself like the others, thinking it best that everyone assumed you were away to make the same choice as them and run towards the middle.
The horn was almost deafening, the sound of footsteps on the grass almost drowned out as you made a turn for the forest; sprinting from the podium towards where you were sure a helpful pack laid in wait.
Hand outstretched, your fingers wrapped around the dark brown strap and tugged it loose from the bushes, your feet refusing to stop for even a single second. The weight took you off guard, causing you to stumble over your footing before setting a steady pace once more through the trees. A gleam of metal atop a wooden handle strapped to the side of the backpack filled your heart with hope for the first time in days; a knife. It wasn’t the most effective weapon, but it would have to do until you had a safer chance to find another.
Your boots thudded against the uneven terrain, legs screaming for you to take it easy after such a sudden outburst of energy, though never letting up as the sound of cannons cracked through the air.
Each blast vibrating your bones with the question of who it was that failed to make it past the first hurdle.
Searching for a suitable tree to climb, you swiftly examined each one you shot past, eyes straining to find a high enough branch with enough cover that you could hide for a short while. Each one was unique, with only the odd flaw that kept you from stopping and attempting an ascent.
As the fifth canon sounded, you finally came across a suitable refuge, running up the trunk just a few steps before grabbing hold of a low enough branch. Your arms trembled with the use of your upper body to drag you higher, climbing each level with quick precision, trying to ignore the doubts that tried to fight their way into your mind.
Situating yourself in a position that left you with only the slightest view of the ground, your head thumped against the rough bark behind you, hand clutching your chest in an attempt to control your breathing. The ragged looking backpack you’d managed to swipe sat on your lap waiting to be opened, your anxiety at an all time high as you worried over the possible contents.
By the time you heard footsteps approaching from below, your breathing had finally settled and your mind had righted itself. You were ready for whoever may possibly attack you now, knowing that you had been trained for this and weren’t going to go down without a fight. Of course, you couldn’t bring yourself to kill someone, but you would fight enough to save your own life.
“Areum?” You heard a voice question, though it was an open ended one, the boy not knowing if you could hear him or if you were in the area at all. “Are you here?”
Luckily, you knew that voice almost immediately, shimmying down the trunk to meet with the two men who stood close to the bottom of your tree. “Taehyung.”
Taehyung looked relieved, shoulders sagging as the tension quickly left them. “Thank God, we weren’t sure we’d be able to find you. We got so caught up in the initial fight that it was almost impossible to get away. Wonho saw you run in this direction in the beginning so we took a chance.”
“Where’s Changkyun?” You asked, eyes shifting between the man who’d spoken and Wonho who stood dejected at the side. Almost immediately, you regretted asking such a thing. It was quite obvious what must have happened and you should have known that it would be upsetting to the muscular man in front of you to think about it.
“That boy from District 4 got to him.” Wonho muttered, eyes focused on the ground as he silently mourned his close friend. “I couldn’t do anything to stop it, I was so useless.”
Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, you shook your head in disagreement. “Don’t say that, you know that’s not true. The Games are specifically made to kill us all off, even if you’d managed to do something this time, they wouldn’t allow all of us to live anyway.”
Needless to say, your words did very little to comfort him.
Knowing that it was Park Jimin to give the fatal blow made you furious, knowing that the boy in question had relentlessly made remarks about your father and what he’d had to do; yet it was perfectly acceptable for him to do the same thing? If there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was that he wouldn’t get away with this. Even if he was the one who would eventually take you out, you would make sure he knew what he’d become whilst he did so. He was already far too comfortable with taking someone’s life.
Glancing down to the tracking bracelet on your wrist, you hoped that when the time came tomorrow for the signal to be sent out, that you would see all the other dots far away from your three.
You were officially counting down the days to your death.
tag list: @jooahchu @oerangdoongi @chubsjmin @hotdamnchimchim
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Based on a prompt request by @moviesbuff. (I am not currently taking prompt requests, please don’t send them in!)
Michael’s bones were vibrating, his heart hammering painfully in his throat, his hands clenched to fists no matter how hard he tried to release them. He didn’t think he could, not until he got the answers he wanted.
His brother’s house was quiet, but his car was still parked outside, so Michael knew he was home. If he hadn’t been, Michael would’ve tracked him down through all of Roswell. After what he’d heard, after what he’d discovered, he wasn’t taking chances leaving this alone.
He banged his fist on the front door. “Max! Open up!”
Max opened, his brows furrowed. He had a journal in his hand, his finger bookmarking the page he’d undoubtedly been writing on before Michael came barging in.
“Michael, what the hell –” he managed before Michael swiped his journal, flipping through the pages.
“Were you writing about him?” he demanded. “This – this passage, who’s it about?”
“What are you doing?!” Max snatched his journal back. He gripped Michael’s shoulder, stilling him, searching his face. “Are you drunk?”
Michael yanked his arm free, and pointed a threatening finger. “I’m gonna ask you just once, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
Max frowned, shaking his head. “Ask me what?”
Michael swallowed through clenched teeth, every fiber in his being on edge. “Do you . . . want Alex?”
Max faltered. “What?”
The answer was not what Michael had wanted. He licked his lips, hesitance creeping into his own ears as he asked again, “Do you want Alex?”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “What’re you talking about?”
Something like a growl or a sob rose up Michael’s throat. “You used a handprint to save Liz. Your feelings transferred to hers –”
“Yeah, so?” Max said. He was trying too hard to pretend it didn’t matter. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “D-Did she say something?”
Michael shook his head. “She wants Alex. She’s wanted him since you saved her.” He took a slow step towards his brother, and saw him glance up warily. When he asked again, his words were quiet and strained. “She thinks it’s funny. Doesn’t know that it’s only an echo . . . of what you feel. So. Do you want Alex?”
Max tucked his journal into his back pocket before he spoke, which was his mistake. “Michael, come on, I could never –”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Michael screamed, and both his truck and Max’s car levitated several feet off the ground before crashing back down to the ground. “She’s talking about how – how sudden it all is, and you’ve been weird since you knew about me and Alex.” Max flinched. “See? See? Y-You’re different when it comes to him! Why?”
Max had been staring at the ground as Michael yelled, and only when his brother stood panting, waiting, Max looked up. In a quiet, pained voice, he said, “You know why.”
Michael turned silent, stumbling back like Max had shot him. He felt before he saw the ground shaking, and Max held onto the wall to steady himself. His heart thudded painfully, his eyes burned.
“But, Michael,” Max tried, “I – I’ve never gone near him! I’ve never touched him!”
“Does he know?” Michael demanded. “DOES HE KNOW?!”
“NO!” Max snapped. “No, he has no idea!”
Michael searched Max’s face as if to decide whether or not he believed him. The ground barely stopped shaking before he warned, “If he finds out –”
“So you’re gonna tell him?” Max said. “How you feel, I mean? Wait, hold on, will you do it before or after you break up with Maria? Because you’re still with her, right?”
“What the hell’s your point, Max?” Michael demanded. “If I don’t tell him how I feel, you’ll go after him?”
Max clenched his jaw. “I’ve thought about this a lot, brother. And . . . if you really loved Alex, you wouldn’t have given up on him. You wouldn’t have chosen someone else.”
Michael flinched. “What, like you?”
Max held his gaze. “I stayed away because I knew that you loved him. But – God, Michael, after everything he’s done for us, you can’t even be honest with him! You’ll fight for everyone else before you fight for him, and he doesn’t even expect you to anymore! Doesn’t that kill you? He won’t look twice at me, and it rips me apart! But he loves you so much, with everything he has, and you don’t even care! You can’t see what you have right in front of you!”
“So, what?” he said darkly. “You’re gonna tell him how you feel?”
Max looked around helpless, and exhaled sharply. “I want to. Michael, I want to. I want to see . . . what happens –”
“What happens?” he breathed. “What do you think is going to happen, Max? He’ll be your boyfriend? Is that it?”
He hesitated. Then – “I want to find out.”
Michael shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. His voice when he spoke was hoarse. “He won’t love you. Not more than me.”
Max nodded, like it hurt him to do it. “I know. But maybe he could love me just enough.”
Michael had not left happy. Max hadn’t expected him to. But he would forgive his brother someday, because if Max had a hair’s chance at being with Alex, then he planned to make him the happiest man alive.
Not that Max actually thought he had a hair’s chance, and Michael had been sure to remind him of that before he’d left, angrier and darker than Max had ever seen him. Max had carried that with him as he’d finished writing the last lines in his heart, the last lines of his love for Alex, and got in his car. He’d spent years holding back his feelings for Michael’s sake, knowing that the pain of being away from the airman and not getting to explore these very strong feelings that he had for him would all be worth it when Michael finally got his happiness.
But years had passed, and Michael had found every excuse not to tell Alex the truth. Even when he’d come back. Even when he’d been right here, in front of him, wanting. Michael had still said no and chosen someone else.
Max promised himself he would never take Alex for granted like that. He’d look after him, he’d make him laugh, let him know how appreciated he was.
Then Max neared Alex’s house and found him working in the garden, and all the old doubts returned. All he could think about was Michael, and how betrayed he must’ve felt, and how much happier he could make Alex.
But it was too late to abort. Alex had glanced up the second Max’s car had come in and was starting to stand, his brows furrowed in that way they did when he was preparing for an attack. Max half-wondered if that was how he usually looked when Michael came and was expecting the same of his brother, or if it was a natural reaction he’d come to have to everything.
Then he wondered how anyone could survive with that mentality for so long, and stay as strong as Alex was. His heart leapt slightly.
“Hey,” he said tentatively as he stepped out.
Alex was still watching him warily, dusting his hands off. “Hey. What’s going on?”
Max swallowed. Alex wore nothing but a pair of jeans and a white tank top, sweat lining his chest and making the dark patch of hair visible. His straight, damp hair fell over his eyes, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Max briefly imagined licking it away, and had to clear his throat.
“I – uh – I wanted to . . . talk to you . . . about something.”
Alex’s eyes sharpened. “Did something happen to Michael?”
The question made Max step back, shame and embarrassment crawling up his spine. Of course Alex would ask about Michael.
“N-No, uh,” he huffed, “I just need to talk to you.”
“Okay?” his shoulders rested. Max noticed Alex wouldn’t look anywhere but his eyes. What a difference, since Max wanted to look everywhere but Alex’s eyes. “Talk.”
He blushed. “It’s kind of important, Manes.”
Alex raised a brow. “Right. You better come in, then.”
And he led the way into his house. Max smelled wood and vanilla the second he walked in. The fireplace wasn’t lit, but the small space was warm, there were carpets on the floor and deep navy couches. He spotted a journal open on the coffee table, and blinked when he saw his name scribbled in delicate writing.
He reached for the page, but Alex seemed to realize what he was doing and closed the journal at the last second.
“Sorry,” he muttered, hiding the journal from view as he hid it away in a drawer and locked it. “That shouldn’t be out here. Look,” he sighed, “f you want to ask me about Liz –”
“No,” Max said immediately. “No, I’m definitely not here to ask you about Liz.”
Alex frowned. “Uh – please, take a seat.”
So he did. On the couch. And Alex sat at the far end of it, waiting.
“Okay . . .” he took a deep breath. “There’s no real way for me to start this, but I – I want you to know that I’m not expecting anything in return, o-okay? You can kick me out if you want –”
“Max,” Alex cut him off, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Max hated how cute it was. “Spit it out.”
“Right,” he huffed. Then, without time to think, blurted, “I want you.”
Silence. Alex stared at Max, still waiting. Max could hear his own blood rush in his ears, his heart pounding so loudly that he worried Alex might hear it, too. He was just starting to wonder whether Alex had even heard him when the airman began to nervously chuckle.
“What?” He blinked, and shook his head. “Sorry, could you say that again? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Max’s nails were digging into his palms. “No,” he said. “No, you heard me right.”
Alex’s smile fell away. He didn’t look angry or confused or like he pitied Max. He didn’t look anything like Max thought he would. Instead, he looked nervous.
“You . . .” he cleared his throat. “You want me to do what?”
“N-Nothing,” Max said. “I just . . . want you.”
Alex was blinking way too quickly. “Uh – l-like . . . sexually?”
He exhaled shakily. “Yeah.” A pause. “Please say something.”
“I-I’m thinking, this is just a little . . . unreal. What about Liz?”
“I tried with Liz,” he quietly confessed. “I really did, but . . . there’s something about you – I – I’ve never been able to get you out of my head, Alex. Not since high school.”
“High school?” Alex stood and started pacing. “Uh – s-sorry, I just – I need a second –”
“Take your time!” Max was quick to reassure him. And so they spent the next few minutes like that, with Max staring at Alex’s carpet, glancing up at the airman every so often to find him rubbing the nape of his neck or muttering to himself. Max almost asked him to sit down, to go easy on his leg, but caught himself. Advice from him was definitely not something Alex wanted now.
Finally, Alex sat down right in front of Max, so close that their knees touched.
“Are you saying,” he said carefully, his eyes dark, “that you . . . you want to . . . sleep with me?”
“Yes,” Max said at once. Then, “No.” He shut his eyes and stood. “Damn it, Alex. I want to sleep with you, but I don’t want to just sleep with you. I – I want to make you breakfast, and fall asleep with you on the couch watching tv, and – and protect you from homophobic assholes in town. I . . . I want to . . .”
“To be with me,” Alex finished, realization dawning. He stood. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me? That you want us to be boyfriends?”
Max couldn’t look away from him. “Is that so bad?”
“Bad? No. Shocking? Hell yeah.” He turned away, running a hand through his hair. Max’s eyes fell to the nape his neck, the line of sweat down his back.
He clenched his jaw. “I know I’m not Michael,” he said, his voice low. “I know you could never love me like that –”
“Love?” Alex breathed, turning around. He shook his head. “You love me?” Max didn’t answer, but he didn’t seem to need to. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered, sitting down. “This isn’t happening.”
Max’s heart was in his throat. He knelt in front of Alex, but didn’t dare touch him. “Alex, I’m – I’m sorry. I told you, I’m not expecting you to do anything, I know you couldn’t love me, I know that, but –”
Alex suddenly crashed their mouths together, cutting Max off. Max managed a whimper before Alex slid from the couch and onto his lap, his own hands coming up to instinctively grip Alex’s hips.
When they pulled back to breathe, Max managed one word, “Alex –”
“Don’t, just –” Alex kissed him again. “Just touch me. We can hate ourselves later, just – please.”
Max should’ve argued. He should’ve told Alex that they couldn’t hate themselves for how they felt, what they wanted. But he couldn’t be sure how Alex felt. Maybe he just needed to be touched. Maybe, worst of all, he just wanted Michael, and Max was as close as he was going to get. It didn’t matter if this was the one time Max would be allowed to have him. He wanted him. He’d take sex over nothing.
“Okay,” he breathed, slipping a hand under Alex’s shirt, his mouth watering at the soft, hot, damp skin. “Okay.”
And he pulled Alex in again, kissing him roughly, eagerly. Alex’s mouth opened against his and he slipped his tongue in like it was something he’d been used to doing. He slid a hand into Alex’s hair, moaning at the soft strands between his fingers.
It felt strange, pressing his mouth to another man’s, but knowing it was Alex, the same Alex he’d never been able to help but glance at even when they were younger, excited him in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. He wanted to tear off Alex’s clothes, push him onto his back, and thrust into him until he had nothing left. Until Alex said no one else’s name but his.
He did as he wanted, resting Alex down on the carpet. He kissed down his throat, and grinded their hips together. Alex’s small moans made him groan, fueling him on. He sat back enough to slip his jeans down, and came down into Alex’s waiting arms, their chests pressed together. Neither of them looked down at what was happening between their hips as Max thrusted into him, but they each held on. Alex pushed his hips up in rhythm to Max’s thrusts, panting into the crook of his neck.
The hours passed, and Max and Alex didn’t stop touching each other. They couldn’t. Alex held onto Max like he never wanted to let him go. There were a million different reasons for it, Max knew there had to be. But for that time that they spent together, before exhaustion came, Max wanted to fall asleep with Alex on his chest, believing that they were, just for a short while, both in love.
Alex woke first, because he always did. He’d found himself face-to-face with Max, sleeping and rested in a way he didn’t normally look. Alex figured they should really move to the bedroom at some point – the clothes on the floor and the carpet not the softest surface for his leg – but at the moment, he was too busy tracing Max’s cheek with his finger, his nose, his lips.
He smiled, though something nagged at his heart in a way he couldn’t explain. His answer came as a knock at the door.
Carefully, he moved Max’s arm from his waist, biting his lower lip as he quickly, and as quietly as he could, pulled on his prosthetic and jeans. He opened his front door as he pulled on his shirt, just pulling it down over his eyes as Michael met him on the porch. The cowboy stared at his naked skin until it was covered. Alex blushed.
“Hey,” he said.
“Alex,” Michael greeted, looking over Alex’s shoulder into the house, but Alex was already closing the door. He clenched his jaw. “Why is Max’s car here?”
Alex licked his lips, crossing his arms. “Because he’s here.”
Michael’s eyes flicked back to his stomach, as if remembering what he looked like without his shirt on. “Why?”
His tone indicated he knew exactly why.
“Leave it alone, Guerin,” he said. “Walk away before you do something stupid.”
“He told you,” Michael smirked, but there was nothing remotely funny in his expression. “He told you about his crush, and you caved.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss him for a long time,” he quietly confessed, and Michael faltered. “I finally got to. This was as much for me as it was for him.”
Michael began to chuckle, disbelieving. “This is – this is a joke. You and Max?”
“Please, stop it –”
“Why you?!” Michael demanded, his eyes glistening with tears. “Why, of everyone on this damn planet, did he have to pick YOU?!”
Alex waited until Michael was done panting to say, “Because you wouldn’t.”
Michael stilled, the world stopped shaking, and Alex was able to stand without holding onto the doorframe. “That’s not true.”
Alex shook his head. “I tried, Michael. I really did. But nothing was ever enough. And – and Max was the first person after Kyle changed who was ever kind to me. I – I’ve wondered what it would be like to be with him, and you know what? I want to try.”
“I want to be with you!”
“Is that why you’re still with Maria?” Alex demanded, his own eyes burning. “Or why, even after I broke up with Forrest, you still wouldn’t come talk to me? Or why you left me alone while I was pouring my heart out to you in a bar full of cowboys?”
“Alex . . .” Michael looked lost, like he’d never expected the kind of damage he’d caused on Alex. It made things so much worse. He’d never cared about Alex long enough to see the way he was hurting him.
“You have no right to be here now,” Alex said. “You have no right to want me, Guerin, or to touch a hair on Max’s head for having the guts to do what you never did. Go back to your girlfriend, and leave me alone.”
“Leave, Guerin,” Alex said, turning away from Michael as he opened his door to head back in. To keep Michael out. “I don’t want to see you again.”
Michael sat up in his bed, grasping at the air. He was breathing heavily, his heart hammering painfully. The sky outside was black, the night air cold, but Michael was sweating. His nightmare flashing in his mind, repeating the words “I don’t want to see you again” in Michael’s ears, he fished his jeans off the floor quickly, pulled out his phone, and dialed Alex’s name.
The phone rung three times, and Michael clenched his jaw, already imagining driving down to the airman’s house to see him for himself.
Then the call connected, and Alex’s sleepy, but alert voice sounded. “Guerin?”
“Alex,” Michael breathed. “My Alex. Are you sleeping with Max? You’re not, right? Y-You’re not?”
A moment of silence. Then –
“Are you drunk?”
Michael huffed a chuckle, the bad dream already fading away to the back of his mind, disintegrating to ash and flying away in the wind. Good riddance, Michael thought with no small amount of relief.
“No,” he said. “No, I – I thought . . .” he shook his head. “Bad dream. Really, really bad dream.”
Michael heard some rustling on the other end, and pictured Alex sitting up against his headboard.
“Yeah,” Michael said, wiping a tired hand over his face, but unable to stop smiling. “Yeah, I’m okay, baby.”
More silence. Alex and Forrest had only broken up two weeks ago, after all. He and Michael definitely didn’t call each other baby.
Michael worried he’d frightened Alex off for a minute, but then Alex asked, “You want to tell me about it?”
“No,” he said right away, and slumped against his pillow. He clenched the blanket in his hand, and confessed, “I just want to curl up with you in bed and go back to sleep.”
A pause. Alex sighed. “You know how to get in. I’ll keep the hallway light on for you.”
Michael sat up straight. “R-Really?”
Alex hummed, and Michael swung his legs off the edge of the bed. He scoffed. “Am I sleeping with your brother – are you kidding me?”
Michael groaned as he rapidly pulled his jeans on and pushed his feet into his boots. “Don’t talk about it, please.”
Alex giggled, the sound bringing a warmth to Michael’s chest and erasing the last of his troubles.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
I had to 😂 I don’t write outside of canon, so I had to adjust it to fit my style. But there ya go!
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chapter 13 — sellout.
🎀 iwaizumi leaves you in a state of hurt and confusion, and, although you still want answers, it isn’t long before he crosses the line.
PAIRING: bad boy!iwaizumi x f!reader
SOUNDTRACK: “on the side” by yo trane
THE PLAYLIST: youtube || spotify || apple music
SIZE / FLAVOR: 3k || angst
CONTENTS: profanity, alcohol, cigarettes
NOTES: ughhh i don’t think i’ve ever been as unsatisfied with a chapter as i was this one but my brain was just totally fried today, i’m sorry y’all :( also please don’t yell at me for this sdjksdns
m.list || << prev ... ch. 13 ... next >>
“What?” you say again, this time feeling the anger slowly bubbling inside. The only thing that’s keeping it from pouring out is the absolute disbelief you feel.
He can’t be serious.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you ask incredulously, well-aware of all the glances and whispers of people passing by at you raising your voice. You’re used to that sort of attention now, since Iwaizumi has always been a bit of a head-turner at your university, but, for the first time, you don’t feel immune to it.
Up until now, it was easy to brush off the attention when you knew the question inside everyone’s heads was, “Since when were those two so close?” But now that everyone in this hallway can hear what feels like should be a very personal conversation between you and Iwaizumi, you feel exposed, and vulnerable.
“I’m talking about how we should stop,” he waves his hands between the two of you, barely even sparing you a glance, “whatever this is.”
Your mind is racing and you don’t even have time to think properly, as he’s already walking away from you again.
“Why?” you bite, determined to get an answer out of him. He’s never acted like this before, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get an explanation.
Iwaizumi finally slows his steps, and comes to a brief halt before turning around to look at you, who’s still standing there, so confused with fists clenched.
You think you see his expression soften, but it’s gone as quickly as it had come.
“I’m not good for you,” he sighs, tilting his head to the side. “Stop acting like there was ever gonna be something between us.”
Humiliation washes over you at his words, and you didn’t think it was possible to feel so furious, confused, and sad all at the same time. You open your mouth to speak, but words don’t seem to come to you as you stand there, frozen in shock.
Iwaizumi turns back around and begins walking away while your heart pounds violently against your chest at the sight.
“I don’t believe you,” you snap.
Sure, you may not know his life story or why he’s pushing you away out of nowhere, but this just… isn’t like him. You’ve spent enough time with Iwaizumi to know that, at the very least.
He doesn’t stop walking.
Iwaizumi merely tosses you a glance over his shoulder and says with an unreadable tone, “Too bad.”
Your body almost lurches forward to run after him, because you refuse to take that as an answer. You need to know what the hell is going on inside that head of his.
But he calls out once more before you do, as if reading your mind.
“And don’t follow me.”
The way he doesn’t even need to turn around to do it makes you want to shrivel up and die of embarrassment, especially with all these other people looking at you, gazes full of judgment and pity.
And just like that, you watch helplessly, stunned and unable to do a single thing, while Iwaizumi disappears down the hallway, leaving you behind with nothing but the image of his back, a bad taste in your mouth, and an aching, bitter heart.
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
“You what?!” Iwaizumi barks into the phone, now more irritated than ever at what Oikawa’s just told him about you.
“She said she wanted to keep coming out to support you even if I wasn’t around,” Oikawa defends himself. “And I thought it was sweet, so, I told her the time and location of your match next weekend—you did say it’s the same, right?”
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Iwazumi growls, clearly fuming.
“Hey, you’re the one who told me it was gonna be another important fight,” the Argentinian points out. “And when I asked you why, you told me not to worry about it because it’d be ‘a piece of cake,’ so why wouldn’t I let her go? Don’t you think it’d be nice for her to see you win after you came back looking like… that, the past couple of weeks?”
Iwaizumi grits his teeth at his best friend’s words.
This is his own fault, after all, for lying.
Oikawa would be flying back to Argentina this coming weekend, so he’d have no way of knowing about Iwaizumi’s planned loss the following week.
But he never expected the asshole to give you the match details and let you go by yourself; knowing your personality, there’s a good chance you’ll still show up even after what happened in the hallway.
“Can’t tell me what to do.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Your voice rings loudly in Iwaizumi’s head, and he lets out a sigh doused in frustration.
“Is everything okay?” Oikawa asks, his tone accompanied with the smallest trace of careful suspicion. “Where have you been, anyway?”
“Family emergency,” Iwaizumi responds simply, ignoring the guilt gnawing at him for using the same excuse he used at school on his best friend.
Oikawa is quiet for a moment.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he finally says. “And stop trying to keep everything to yourself—some of us get worried, y’know.”
Iwaizumi gets the feeling his friend isn’t just referring to himself.
“Yeah, yeah,” Iwaizumi says casually, brushing him off. He knows Oikawa is probably rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you later.”
Iwaizumi hangs up before giving Oikawa a chance to respond, and runs his hands exasperatedly through his hair.
Despite what his friend just said, Iwaizumi doesn’t see relying on other people as an option.
This was his own decision, as dishonorable as it may be—and he’s not about to tell you that, either. What else does he have left to protect, if not his pride?
And knowing how stubborn you are, it’s going to take a lot more than just him saying, “Let’s end it here” for you to give up, especially when you can almost see right through him.
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
The next two days feel long and dreary, every hour filling you with rotating waves of sadness, anger, confusion, and even insecurity.
The usual relief of the weekend isn’t enough to remedy your frustration, either.
Did you… just get broken up with?
Could you even call it that?
Who are you to even think about comparing yourself to someone like a girlfriend to him? You probably knew less about Iwaizumi than his former “fuck buddy” did.
Why, just because he was nice to you, did a few sweet things, you really thought he’d like you back? Did you really mean nothing to him? For him to just throw you away so easily? How could he even bring himself to do that?
But despite the unkind thoughts occupying your mind about your relationship with him, there’s no denying that all the time you spent together—the lingering gazes, brushes of physical contact, small displays of affection—was real. You felt it.
Things feel particularly suffocating when you have nobody to confide in about the strange situation; you can’t even tell Oikawa about how you’ve just been blindsided completely because… he was Iwaizumi’s friend first. Who are you, a random girl he’s only met a couple of months ago, to ask him for support?
Your eyes sting with heat as they begin to water, but you shake your head, snapping yourself out of the feelings of self-pity before a tear can escape.
The buzz of your phone startles you, causing you to almost jump out of your chair. You pick up the device from your desk, and your heart rate increases tenfold.
It’s a text from Iwaizumi.
What the hell? He hasn’t responded to you in almost two weeks—what could he possibly have to say to you? Is he going to explain himself?
It had taken all your self-control to not heckle him for an explanation, after all. Despite the pain of being ghosted and publicly humiliated, boundaries are boundaries. And Iwaizumi has made his very clear, starting with, “Don’t follow me.”
Holding your breath, you unlock your phone to read the message.
Iwaizumi: we’re having a goodbye party for oikawa tomorrow night at 11. come if you want.
A gamut of emotions swirls in your head and your chest as you reread the words on your screen for the fifth time, taking note of the address he’s sent you after—it’s a nightclub.
So are you two on good terms or not?
Is this him trying to make peace with you?
Well, you are Oikawa’s friend now too, despite all the self-doubt from earlier. It makes sense to invite you—you wouldn’t want him to leave before seeing him one last time either.
Shaking your head, you get up and walk to your closet, already thinking about what to wear in 24 hours. Regardless of Iwaizumi’s intention, you’re invited.
You’re going to show up, look good doing it, and maybe even have fun, for Oikawa’s sake.
And maybe you don’t have any dignity, but there’s no denying a small part of you that hopes, maybe if you look pretty enough, Iwaizumi will reconsider whatever the hell he’s doing. Or change his mind.
Stupid, I know, you think to yourself. But you can’t help it.
Love is a fickle thing.
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
Needless to say, you haven’t been to a club in a while, and it’s evident with the way you stand by the entrance by yourself after the bouncer had checked your ID and let you in.
You wonder why you’ve never heard of this place before.
The inside of the building is dark, except for the colorful, flashing lights to go with the loud, blaring music of the packed dance floor. Suddenly, you regret not asking for more details about where you should go once you arrive, but who knows if Iwaizumi would have even texted you back?
It’s also immediately apparent that you don’t… quite fit in here. The atmosphere is just different.
From the men smoking cigarettes in lounge booths to the women dancing on poles scattered throughout the room, you’re reminded of the first time you ever saw Iwaizumi fight, and the way you felt: like a fish out of water.
But as you make your way to the bar, in hopes of texting Oikawa so he can save you from this awkward situation, you see a familiar face coming down the stairs behind it.
“Hana?” you ask, almost not recognizing her under all the makeup, and vastly different clothes she’s wearing from what you’ve seen at school.
“Hey!” she yells over the music, her tone a bit more saccharine than you’d like. “I didn’t think you were gonna come, but, now that you’re here, follow me!”
Slightly bewildered, you begin to put two and two together as you trail behind her, walking up a flight of stairs and past a sign that reads, “VIP.”
With the way everyone greets her in the club, it doesn’t take long for you to realize that this must be where she works. Whoever picked the location for Oikawa’s party probably doesn’t know about what happened between you and her… right?
Your palms grow sweaty as you two approach the door of what you presume is a VIP room, and you don’t even want to think about how much reserving it cost.
“After you,” Hana smiles sweetly, moving out of the way for you to enter.
“Um, thanks,” you say as you stroll past her.
You’ve never felt so insecure and out of place.
Sure, you look pretty and left the house earlier feeling good, but compared to everyone here… you’re just cute, at best.
All eyes in the room turn to you, and you have a sudden desire to melt into the ground at the attention. You take a quick sweep of the room, and recognize Matsukawa sitting on the left couch with a lanky, pink-haired man you’ve never met, each with a gorgeous woman—whom you assume are the club’s hostesses—by their sides. Iwaizumi sits by himself, a cigarette between his lips, at your twelve o’clock, and you’re not sure why the sight brings you a sense of relief. Oikawa is situated on the couch on the right, clearly very comfortable and happy with the two beautiful women draped over his body, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair a tousled mess.
Where the hell do you even sit?
“Hey,” you smile at no one in particular, but Matsukawa is the first person you make eye contact with. You pray you don’t look as awkward to them as you feel.
But, bless his heart, he (and his lady friend) scoot over on their couch, making space for you to sit at the very end.
“HEEEEEYYY,” Oikawa cries, as if just noticing you.
Good god, he is drunk. Well, the ice bucket full of expensive liquor bottles sitting on the light-up table scattered with glass cups should’ve been indicative of that.
Despite your uncomfortable situation, you let out a laugh at Oikawa’s flushed cheeks and messy appearance.
“You look like you’re having fun,” you muse at the brunet.
The next twenty minutes are awful, to say the least. Matsukawa had introduced you to Hanamaki, who was the man sitting beside him—which you appreciated, but making conversation is difficult when they’re both somewhat… preoccupied by their company. It’s pretty evident to anyone and everyone that you don’t really have much business here.
Not to mention, trying to ignore Iwaizumi sitting a couple feet away from you is a real fucking task. You’re not sure why you feel upset at how good he looks with his dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone. Maybe it’s because he never struck you as a “dress up and look sleazy to go clubbing” type of guy.
But he becomes impossible to ignore after Hana returns and closes the door to the room, and makes her way over to him. Even more so when he shifts in his seat, allowing her to sit on his lap as she slings an arm around his neck in familiarity.
“Sorry it took me so long,” she hums, her tone sweeter than honey. “Had to sort something out with one of my other clients.”
Your throat runs dry at the sight.
Is Iwaizumi fucking joking?
Wasn’t he the one who was soooo angry on your behalf over what happened at the party? Now he wants to invite you to a club and get all chummy like it’s a public show with the very person who—
Your brain short circuits at what happens next.
Hana had cupped Iwaizumi’s cheek with her hand, and kissed him.
And it didn’t stop there.
He tilted his head up to meet her eyes, and let her.
Before you knew it, he’d slipped her tongue past her lips as she ran her hands through his hair, the two of them just shamelessly making out now.
Nothing can prevent the way your jaw almost drops to the floor, and even Matsukawa raises his brows at the sight.
Your blood runs cold and you feel sick. Like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, and your stomach is twisting and turning, both with hurt, rage, and disbelief.
You don’t even know how long you’ve been staring and gaping at them, because Iwaizumi is kind enough to stop sticking his tongue down Hana’s throat for a moment to speak to you while she giggles into the crook of his neck.
“You got a problem?” he asks casually, looking directly at you.
And that’s the last straw.
You’re hurt, but even more than that, you’re livid.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you shoot back as everyone falls silent, the music still blaring in the background.
“I don’t have a problem,” Iwaizumi shrugs, breaking eye contact to take another sip of his dark brown drink. “If you don’t like it here, then leave.”
You finally bring yourself to stand up, face burning but still ignoring everyone’s gazes with every ounce of willpower in your body.
Looking straight at him, voice firm and steady, you say, “You’re a real fucking asshole, Iwaizumi.”
The words come out somewhere like a hiss bordering on disappointment, but you don’t have time to dwell before you walk through the door without looking back.
You don’t yell.
You don’t stomp.
You simply leave as briskly as you would on any regular work morning, afraid that, if you’re any slower, they’ll see the tears pour out of your eyes.
Your nails are digging themselves so hard into your palms that, for a second, you wonder if flesh can tear like that. Like the way your heart feels as though it’s been torn in half without hesitance.
Rubbing your finger under your nose with a small sniffle, you exit the club as quickly as you can, only thinking about getting out of this fucking hellscape and returning to the comfort of your bed where you can cry and seethe all you want.
Meanwhile, Oikawa feels like he’s stone-cold sober for a brief second.
Well, he thinks he is.
He wishes his brain would work faster even while he’s drunk, because he wanted to say something when he saw your confrontation with Iwaizumi boil over—he really did. But it’s not his fault all the vodka and Henney shots made his reaction time almost on par with that of a sloth.
It took all the tension in the room, as well as the realization that you’ve just stormed out (rightfully so), for him to come back to his senses.
“That wasn’t cool, Iwa-chan,” he’d slurred, before getting up and trying to chase after you.
But by the time the athlete had stumbled clumsily out of the club and into the cold streets of the night, you were already gone without a trace.
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Please Don’t Go (I’ll Eat You Whole)
U//nbrella A//cademy Vore Fic!
Hey guys! its been for FUCKING ever since I’ve created a story, its a bit shorter,, but if you guys want i do have a bit of a follow up fic I can post later on!
but this is the Klaus Hargreeves fic i promised y’all!
Spoiler Warning for Umbrella Academy S1 and S2.
Trigger Warnings: this story contains soft, safe, G/t vore. if you do not like this, I suggest not reading. this story also mentioned digestion and death--neither of which happens! there is also substantial alcohol mention-- klaus is literally drunk the entire time.
It was chance that Dave came by to the house, wanting to apologize to Klaus for the argument and the fight in the diner-- and even though Klaus was happy to see him, the fact that he was piss drunk made it a whole lot harder to keep his mouth shut about what he knew about Dave. the alcohol in his blood wanting to word vomit his way into telling Dave everything.
From his favourite food, favourite book-- and to some details Dave didn’t even want to know about himself. Walking through the garden, it was very apparent that Dave could not believe one word out of Klaus’s mouth.
Klaus didn’t blame him, all he really did was lie and con-- exactly what he was doing with the cult. If Dave was talking about anything else, he would’ve been right.
But he wasn’t. And Klaus had to make him believe, had to try and save the kid, even if that meant Dave would never be with him.
It had all come to a head as Klaus stumbled, trying to get him to not enlist, and he let it slip. Dave's death date--and where he had died.
As Klaus spoke, he could see Dave's hand shaking as it balled into a fist, “Even if I believed you. It wouldn’t matter, it's an honour to die for your country”
Klaus laugh at the naïve patriotism, “that's Bull--”
“I’ve already enlisted.”
Dave's words sliced through Klaus’s hope like a sword, his breath hitching as the words escaped daves mouth, the kid looking at Klaus with anger and confusion.
“you...What?! That's not supposed to happen yet.”
“The other day after i saw you, my uncle took me down to the recruitment office” He looked Klaus down, clearly trying to make it seem like he was disgusted by the man before him, but no matter what Dave did or said, Klaus knew him, knew his secrets, almost like he knew his thoughts.
‘It's all some kind of parlor trick, he’s a con artist’
“He made me sign up, I ship out next week”
Though Dave couldn’t shake the strange feeling that crept up his spine, like he knew who Klaus was, he could feel his face go red
‘Don’t let him get in your head’
Klaus almost fell to his knees at the reveal, he couldn't save him, he was going to that war and he was going to die, and there's nothing Klaus could do to stop him.
He couldn’t stop thinking back to the nightclub, when they were dancing together, holding each other-- even if he could never have that again, he was willing to do everything in his power to make sure Dave wouldn’t have to suffer a death to a stupid war that ended in the same way it had started.
“I have to go, save this story for the next time you want to recruit someone” Dave blinked a few tears away, looking away to quickly wipe them, as if he wasn’t phased by this at all.
As the man tried to walk away, Klaus took his chance-- he had no idea what chance that was, but he was going to do whatever his mind came up with.
“W-wait!” he blurted out, erratic and desperate, making Dave turn around, shocked at how loud the outburst was, not hearing him speak louder than a regular speaking voice before now.
‘Shit...he's staring at me’
“Y-you….” Klaus took a deep breath, calming his voice, trying to sound more rational “you got me.” he shrugged.
Dave blinked, “...what?”
His curiosity peaked, Dave turned around fully, Klaus let a smile slip out
“You’re got me, I’m a fraud” he spoke these words almost gleefully, his own pain being masked by the pure glee of someone he could finally tell the truth to “I didn’t mean to start all of this, but I’m so fucked up, I can’t stop”
Dave straightened his back, looking Klaus up and down “I thought so...glad you could admit it?”
Klaus smiled a big, toothy grin “can I get you a drink? What you’re….23 correct? I can get you the best drinks that’ll knock your socks off-- think of it as a going away present--O-or better yet, a congratulations to finding out my con”
Klaus stumbled over to Dave, who stepped back slightly.
“This...isn’t another attempt to...convert me, Right?” Klaus laughed, shaking his head--like Dave was crazy to even think that-- “fine. One drink, then i'm gone.”
“Of course” Klaus lied through his teeth. Taking a deep breath as he walked towards Dave, right passed him. “One drink.”
The two of them walk to the house, Klaus leading Dave, who was apprehensive, but putting on a brave face.
Ideas swarmed into Klaus’s head on what he could do, he could try get Ben to lift him up again and show he’s not actually lying, and he could also just keep him here for a few days, convince him the war was idiotic.
With every thought pulsating through his head, an even more ridiculous one came to light, it was like his brain was trying to one-up itself.
Suddenly, it was like a lightbulb flashed into his head, it was the perfect plan--
Klaus jumped back a few steps as Ben appeared beside him, almost making him fall--he looked at the drunk man with annoyance before speaking, “Klaus, show him to the door and leave, I know what you’re thinking”
Dave jumped back as well “what the hell are you doing?”
Klaus looked to Ben, who almost had a pleading look on his face, then to Dave--it was clear he was on thin ice with the kid.
“Sorry sorry!” Klaus brushed himself off “thought i saw a bee, disgusting things” he turned to Ben-- he turned to nothing in Dave’s eyes--”Such pests, I think they need to stay in their own business”
As ben rolled his eyes, Dave's face twisted into more concern for Klaus, rather than anger, “...Right”
“Anyways” Klaus cringed at the look Dave gave him as he turned to the house again, and quietly, as Ben walked back up to him, he spoke to his dead brother.”
“I won’t if I can convince him.”
“You’re plastered, you won’t convince anyone”
Klaus waved his hand in the air “wow! These bees are crazy tonight! Don’t you think, Dave?” he turned to the man, who just stared back, following him sheepishly as they got to the door.
“I don’t see any bees.” he spoke matter-of-factly.
As Klaus opened it, gesturing for Dave to come inside-- he almost felt like the Witch in Hansel and Gretel, luring the man inside. “I guess you’re not looking hard enough.”
Dave could feel a pit in his stomach as he walked into the giant manor, paintings of Klaus plastering the walls with plants up to the ceiling.
With every step Dave could feel something sinking deeper and deeper in the already established pit in his stomach-- he couldn’t put his finger on it, it just felt so...off.
Surly he wasn't the only person who had found out his Con, and why was he being so nice about it all of a sudden? He was denying and Denying all he could a little bit ago, what was going on?
Klaus looked over his shoulder to look at Dave from time to time-- almost to make sure he was actually following-- Through the corner of his eye he could see Ben following, giving Klaus a death glare--- which technically every glare would be a death one since he was….dead.
Klaus finally stumbled into his personal room “This is my sanctuary away from the mob”
It was a small room, only a small bed, and the floor was covered in pillows, it actually looked quite comfortable.
“Feel free to sit wherever you want. I’ll get you a drink.”
Once Dave had taken a step into the room, Klaus closed the door quickly, making the kid jump ever so slightly.
Finally, Klaus had hit all of Dave's red flags, “Actually I need to be back to my Uncle, I should get going before he finds out where--”
“Sh sh shh.” Klaus shushed him, “Sure you don’t need a drink, but just stay a bit longer? We still have so much to talk about” with those words, Klaus popped open a random half full bottle of alcohol, and without another moment to lose, drinking almost all of it, cringing as it burned going down his throat.
Dave stared, just shocked that one person could drink so much alcohol, since he was already drunk.
Klaus, now losing any more of his sobriety that was left, finally spoke, his words slurring ever so slightly, “I know you’re all ‘patriotic’ and shit, but joining a hopeless war and--”
He was cut off
“Are you kidding?” Dave scoffed at Klaus, “I fucking knew it. I knew you wouldn’t just admit to me that you’re a fucking con.”
Klaus shook his head, “you have to listen to me, Dave. I may not be an actual prophet but i do know when you’re gonna die, you have to believe me”
“Shut the hell up! You’re just… a wannabe commie with a shit for brains group backing you.” Dave turned around, preparing to leave without another word.
That was before Klaus bolted up, practically sliding into the door-- a loud bang following as he used himself to barricade the door.
“You are going to die on February 21st, 1968--”
“Get out of my way--”
“Its on A Shau Valley, Hill 68--”
“Shut UP!” Dave pulled away from the drunken man, “I don’t care--Whatever you’re pulling out of your ass, you need to stop. This is ridiculous.” Dave backed up until his back hit the closet, startling him slightly, making him flinch.
‘Why am I so scared?’
Klaus turned to ben, as he sat on the bed, watching-- as if he was witnessing a car crash and couldn’t look away.
“Let it go, Klaus. Let Him go.”
“I fucking CAN”T” Klaus yelled at Ben, “He’s going to DIE.” tears threatened the older mans eyes as he wobbled back and forth.
Dave took the chance he got as Klaus was (or what he thought he was) hallucinating, He bolted for the door, pushing Klaus to the side, who fell to the floor with a yelp.
“Just stay away from me!” Dave grabbed the door handle, about to twist it-- until he felt Klaus grab onto his ankle, making him look down.
He was sprawled on the ground, hanging onto His pant leg tightly.
Pain, anger, and sadness, mixed with a shit ton of alcohol finally took control, bubbling up into him as he allowed his emotions to take control.
Dave couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “You have to know that's not going to stop me.”
“I’m not stopping you.” Dave's stomach dropped as Klaus chuckled back at him, a deep, almost menacing chuckle.
“Wha--” Dave couldn’t finish the word as a deep, dizzying feeling washed over him like a tsunami.
“Be careful, I don't want you hurt you”
Dave fell to his knees, which seemed like a much farther drop than he would’ve thought, he could feel Klaus’s hand slip off of him.
Klaus watched, sitting up into a crouched position, elbows resting on his knees, hands on his face, almost like a child, a smile wide as he watched in fascination as Dave fell to the floor and began shrinking.
He was always interested in this part, how each person he would shrink, reacted once they really understood what was going on, he called it his own guilty pleasure-- he would never admit it-- people would think he was nuts.
Not that shrinking people isn’t nuts.
The same thing everyone said-- Dave held his head tightly as the dizzying feeling got worse and worse--though he opened his eyes as wide as possible, though his vision was extremely blurry--he could see one thing.
Klaus standing over him.
Klaus looked down at the shrinking man, getting smaller and smaller by the moments passing by “What's happening? Exactly what you think.”
Ben rolled his eyes “Give him a chance to change his mind, please”
“I will!” I will! Now go haunt someone else”
Finally, as if by some miracle, Dave’s vision came back-- though once he saw what was in front of him, it seemed like regaining his vision was more of a curse.
Seeing a drunk, probably psychotic Giant in front of him staring him down, and he was talking to himself.
“I-I” Dave finally found his voice in the turmoil his head was put through, “w-what the fuck did you...you do?!” his voice started out small, but it was like it grew with every word he spoke.
Klaus couldn’t help but giggle softly, “Sorry, I know this is probably really bad for you but, you just look so goddamned cute~” Klaus reached his hand out slowly, and to that, Dave backed up right into the doorframe.
Klaus was wrong, this wasn’t just ‘really bad’ for Dave, it was Terrifying for the young lad, he felt the wood hit his back, his eyes darting around to find another way to get away from the looming man.
‘I could run under the door’ he paused for a moment ‘He’d get me before then’
“But…” Klaus pulled his hand back and shifted, so he was sitting with his legs crossed, hands still resting on his face. “To answer your obvious question; I shrunk you”
“I--How--you…” Dave sputtered, his mind scrambled in between what was really happening and how to stop it “Make me normal again!” Was all he could come up with, having to deal with the fact that this was actually happening.
Klaus then frowned, “Well that's entirely up to you, pal” The normal-sized man shrugged at Dave, who just blinked in surprise “You just have to do one thing for me.”
Dave could feel his heart sink at his words--‘what the fuck did he want?’
“s-Sure man, Anything, what is it?” Dave spoke, not even trying to mask the desperateness in his voice.
“Two words.” Klaus held up two fingers, “Draft” one finger down “Dodge” the other finger went down.
‘It’s still about this?’--Dave was almost surprised at what lengths this guy went to so he could just simply not go to war--”I-I can’t, I wasn’t even drafted--”
Klaus just waved a hand “Oh sure you can, millions of men did the same, some for multiple wars, its not too much of a big deal, just lay low for a bit. They’ll stop eventually”
He was fucking crazy.
Dave couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just agree with this man, his uncle would probably say his pride to honesty or some shit like that----“My uncle will kill me! I’d rather die for my country instead at the hands of my shitty family!” Dave paused, realizing what he had just said-- he wasn’t lying, which is really what surprised him.
There was a pause from Klaus as well. Seeing the shock climb onto Dave's face made his fall into a frown, shaking his head.
“You could live here. No Cult shit needed.” Klaus tried once again to get him to agree, just a simple ‘ok’ would work for him, anything that could make this man stop his own death sentence… though one look from Dave made him realize that it was a dumb idea, letting out a slight sigh that turned into a chuckle “Scratch that, they never leave you alone--Fuck they never leave me Alone.”
Dave Stared up into Klaus’s enormous eyes, though Dave's eyes wandered seeing Klaus smile--his Mouth, it was huge-- Don’t think about that, you’ll give him ideas, Dave.
Though unbeknownst to the shrunken man, Klaus was already thinking it.
And his brain was close to considering it.
Klaus stared down Dave.
Dave stared up at Klaus.
It was a standoff.
Klaus could hear ben-- right beside his ear, in a hushed whisper “Let him go.”
He shook his head
“If i let him go, he dies”
“w-What?!” Dave called out, his heart sinking lower and lower as he watched this man seemingly talking to air. “w-what are you doing?!”
“He won’t forgive you for this if you do it.”
“---I don’t care! You're not the fucking angel on my shoulder--fuck off!” Klaus slurred throughout his tirade, turning to Ben with a glare “dead people don't get an opinion on what I do with the Living”
When Klaus turned, Dave took his chance.
The boy turned--stumbling into a run towards the door, he could barely feel the steps he was taking, it almost felt like he was floating--his heart pounded right outside his chest, if he was just fast enough maybe he could get away before Klaus even noticed.
Dave spun around at Klaus’s outburst, being caught red handed, right by the door, ready to crawl under it--- his stomach sank in, forming a large pit in the bottom of it.
Though before Dave could register what he was looking at, a pair of extremely large hands scooped him into their clutches, and he could only think of one thing---
Klaus held the man tightly as he pushed against his fingers, kicking, screaming, punching--you name it, he was doing it--- all in an attempt to get out of the giants grasp.
“Come on, you didn't have to do that! I wanted to let you go.”
Dave paused, hearing the soft, almost disappointed tone Klaus’s voice produced, the tone hiring with each word, it was eerie how hurt the man was by this.
Klaus was even more upset on the inside, his gut twisting and his chest tightening. He didn’t look up to Ben, but the ghost could tell who he was speaking to.
“I have to do this”
Dave was about to yell out the obligatory “do what?!”
That was until he was brought closer to Klaus’s face, he cringed at the lingering pungent smell of alcohol on the mans breath.
“h-Hey...Klaus-- Listen I--”
“Don’t talk, It’ll make it worse”
Klaus didn't need to use words, as his lips parted, it was all too clear what his intentions were.
Dave's mouth hung open for a moment, waiting for a yell to claw its way out of him, something that would at least make sure that he was fighting back.
But nothing arose, he was just frozen in time, as the man before him simply pushed him into his mouth.
Dave's eyes watered as the smell of alcohol burned through the air, making him slightly gag. Fucking gross.
Somehow, this was what brought him back out of his shock.
Klaus laid back, smiling softly he rolled his eyes back in pleasure, it had been so long since he had eaten someone...at least someone that he actually wanted to eat.
For the first few years, having the cult members beg for him to eat him was exhilarating, he had never gotten to eat people before, and having these people basically put themselves on a silver platter was fantastic.
Until it wasn’t
He didn’t realize that he could actually get sick of this feeling.
The feeling of being actually full, having something alive inside of him, moving, breathing.
When its said like that I sound like a psychopath.
Dave let out a yell as Klaus began rolling him around, pushing him against his tongue, tasting the poor lad. The thick drool clung onto him, he couldn’t fight back, his limbs sliding against anything he tried to push against, the tongue, the teeth, he couldn’t grip onto anything.
This was really happening, he was in another human beings mouth.
He couldn’t stop himself, he had to yell out “HELP ME! ANYBODY PLEASE!” every second he yelled, the more hoarse his voice was.
Klaus couldn't help but smile, maybe the arrogance and narcissism in him was bursting at the seams, it was strange how some of the people in that very house would be on their knees--begging Klaus to do this to them.
Klaus rolled his head backwards slightly, head hitting the wood of the bookshelf as he did so.
“You can still let him out”
Ben sat right in front of Klaus, staring at him with disgust.
This hadn’t been the first time he had watched this same scenario, though it usually involved drugs and alcohol.
“Mmmm!” Klaus shook his head, shushing the ghost, and rattling dave around, the man sliding from side to side across the tongue below him.
“Come on Klaus the kid learned his lesson--”
Ben should’ve known this wouldn’t work, Klaus being angry, drunk and overconfident--it was a bad concoction destined to go wrong.
“Just let him go!”
“Mmfine!” finally, a slurred out word ben could recognize emerged out of it.
Klaus’s lips parted as he opened his mouth wide for Ben to watch.
Dave wheezed as his eyes adjusted to the light before him. He was staring at the other side of the room, the mountain of pillows and blankets on the other side of the room.
Through the slippery and slimy cave, Dave pushed himself forewards, which was less of a push, more of a slide foreward.
Ben couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor dude, and if he was alive, he’d probably just outright snatch him out of the drunkards mouth.
But alas, being dead sucked.
And simply out of spite, Klaus swallowed. Staring into Ben's eyes as he did so.
Dave let out a loud gasp as his legs were pulled into the darkness, forcing himself down his throat
The throat muscles began to drag Dave down, pulling his body deeper and deeper into the tube below him.
Klaus shut his mouth, his point made very clear to Ben, who just sat there---mouth agape and looking disgusted at the man.
Though Klaus paid no mind to this, letting his head roll back into the bookshelf, a small thud following.
He wished he could just enjoy what he could, without his brother bothering him about every little thing under the sun.
It’s not like he was hurting the kid!
Klaus brought his hand to his throat, prodding, feeling the lad kicking through his skin as he began his descent into the esophagus.
Dave couldn’t believe it.
But he had to.
He was being eaten alive. His body being shoved down an esophagus.
Actually no, ‘being’ shoved, would imply that it was force. No. he was being pulled gently down, just another piece of food for the stomach to enjoy.
As dave traveled down his throat, slowly but surely, klaus found himself grinning, a hand on his stomach prematurely, waiting for the moment his prey arrived.
Though a small pout on his face formed as his tongue dragged across his lips
“Dammit Ben!” Klaus lifted his head, “I didn’t even get a good taste of ‘im!”
Though as he looked to face the ghost, Ben was nowhere to be found.
The room was empty.
“Fine! Be like that!”
Dave cringed as his body spilled into Klaus’s stomach, the putrid smell of alcohol pungent in the air.
Dave could’ve gotten drunk right off the fumes.
“no….nononoNONONO!” Dave pushed against the organ, cringing at the squelching sound it made around his hands. “PLEASE---PLEASE STOP!”
Klaus dropped his hand down to his bare stomach, the organ slightly mishapen, he blamed it on the kid, not the massive amount of alcohol he consumed.
He pushed back at the skin below his hands as Dave struggled, “thats not gonna do much, its best to just relaaaax”
Klaus began softly massaging the organ, small circular motions, though it didn’t help much, feeling the man continue to kick and yell to him.
But damn, it felt good.
As he continued to ignore the yells-- the pleading from within the confines of him, he could feel himself growing more and more exhausted.
“Well then, davey” Klaus patted his stomach, covering his mouth as a small burp escaped his stomach. “this has been a great time, but I am exhausted.” he groaned, getting up from his sitting positon, bringing his hand back down to his stomach.
Daves heart sunk...that meant...that meant….”p-please klaus…” his voice choked out “please don't kill--”
Dave let out a loud gasp as his surroundings shifted with each step, feeling a sickness inside of himself as if he was on a ship at sea.
Klaus shushed the man, “I already said you're gonna be fine!” did he? He couldn’t remember “I’m not going to hurt you, and if i was, I wouldn’t be this elaborate, trust me.” he fell right back down to the mountain of pillows, the softness engulfing him all around.
It was hard to believe a man who had eaten him alive.
Klaus brought his head up, poking his stomach. “Hey dave?!”
The kid paused his struggling, feeling the finger specifically prodding at him, “w-what?!”
“If its any consolation, you tasted really good”
“...its really not.” the disgusted tone in his voice growing slightly.
“Welp, can’t blame me for trying. Try and get some rest now.”
“W-wait you can’t just leave me in here!” dave pushed at the slimy walls, his hands slipping and sliding around, it was hard to get a grip.
Klaus just shifted around, making Dave wobble even more-- Placing his hand overtop of the organ containing the young man.
It didn’t take long for klaus to pass out, his full stomach mixed with the comfortable position, it was almost instantaneous.
For dave, it took a few more hours.
He fought for quite some time as klaus slept, seeing if he could do anything that would annoy the man into spitting him up. though as the hours droned on, and the fact that he was still fully intact, not even a tingle or twinge of pain started to dawn on him. Sure, he was okay, and sure, he wasn’t going to die in there--
But how long was klaus going to keep him in there for?
It really didn’t take long for the adrenaline he once had to wear off, his body begging for sleep, and even as the kid protested, not wanting to lower his guard, he couldn’t help but feel his eyelids pulling shut, the warmth and darkness almost forcing him into sleep.
He hated to mention it, but the sounds around him were quite helpful too.
Sure, he had bouts of anxiety with every gurgle and groan klaus’s stomach created, but he ended up growing used to them, the low drum of his heartbeat calming and rhythmic, even as klaus breathed in for air, he could hear the ‘wind’ going back and forth from his lungs.
As he finally gave into his own body’s pleas for sleep, he hoped to god that Klaus would let him out in the morning.
And with that thought, he was out like a light.
and that’s it! please let me know what y’all think! I’m glad i’ve been able to share this with you guys and show off the fic i’ve been hyperfixating on for so long! and as i said above, if y’all want a part two i am so happy to do so for you guys!
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us against the world
* proofreading in process*
summary: after living outside the walls for a more peaceful life, eren comes visits you every once in a while. but after months of nothing, you begun to fear the worst
warning: angst, 18+ smut, and it’s just kinda sad.
“ he turned y/n..” I sighed letting out a relief, he isn’t dead but “ what do you mean turned?” mikasa looked away. Mikasa is absolutely stunning, from the way she hold self to her soft face. I miss seeing her everyday, mikasa and I were the best of friends- we still are she comes and visit for every now and then to clear her mind. It’s calm by the sea now and days, miskasa sipped the tea and continued. “ he has this idea.. that it’s him against the world..”
“ yeah but his always been like that..” I fought for him, “ it’s different, Sasha...” miskasa clenched her first in pain, “ she's dead and he laughed y/n... laughed in our faces.” my heart fell as tears poured from my eyes, she couldn’t- why would he let that happened.
a long time ago eren told me something as we lied in bed together- it was after they caught marylans. “ come back..” he begged me. explaining to me he wanted to see you more, “ you can come see me whenever, and I can protect myself you’ll never see the end of me..”
I expected a giggled from him but he turned away, worried I pushed against his naked chest and grabbed Erens face making him look at me. the look in his eyes, they didn’t glow anymore, “ I've seen things... horrible things, so please come back y/n please”
after a long night, mikasa explained to me that she’d be in touch soon, and that I may need to prepare to fight again soon. those words scared me, miskasa made me promise that if she came back with bad news that I would come with her no questions. I agreed hugging her ever so tightly, I couldn’t help the tears that spilled as I watched her horse disappeared.
the next day, I used my old ODM gear to practice- putting it on was it work out in itself but it felt like home. my muscles screamed at me, as a ran all the way back home- just to tend to my garden. I picked this amazing sweet fruit I found a while ago, it was bright red and had a green topping to it. I wouldn’t eat the green part by the rest was so good. noticing my bucket was full I stood up.
“ y/n..” my heart dropped, whipping myself around my eyes widen to “ Eren!” he smiled towards me, whist leaping into his arms. Nuzzling my face into his shoulder, I inhale his scent. his musks was missed, his shirt could only stay unwashed for long... it’s been too long. “ oh how I’ve missed you!” I cried, as I heard him exhale as in relief. “ I couldn’t get you out of my mind..” pulling away to look at him, my palm on his cheek.
I saw scars under his eyes, he used his titan form? why. rubbing his cheek, I felt wet..pulling away bleed covered my hand, as I remember what miskasa told me. the warmth and happiness feeling quickly leaving.
“ let’s .. get you clean..” my hand grabbing the bucket while the other guided him into my cottage. “ you know I remember how to get there..” Eren joked, I felt his thumb soothe the top of my hand.
letting inside him, Eren’s eyes never left me as he set down at my table. placing the bucket full of berries on the counter and full another bucket in the sink to collect warm water. staying busy kept my thoughts still- trying to avoid the heavy tension in the room. my eyes look towards him, his built body leaned back with legs parted as his legs bounced against the wood, turning away trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
Eren is impatient, in fact, he is extremely impatient. by now I’d be pushed against the table or if he was being really needy we wouldn't even make it inside my cottage and id end up being fucked into the dirt. but it's been so long, he looks so different.
turning his cheek I saw a gush slowly heal, but bleed still covered his ear. dipping the towel and the warm bucket I began to clean him off.
I felt his eyes watch me, as I got rid of the blood. he pulled closer to me- my skin got tense under his touch, trying to push my thoughts aside, I continued to tend to his wounds. Eren's lips tickled your neck making you freeze. “ why are you so stiff?” I shrugged, I don’t even know why I’m acting like this. maybe it’s because he knew Sasha was going to die and I didn’t do anything about it or maybe because you know that if it came down to you or his goal -you’d quickly be added to the pile of bodies. my stomach turned in knots as his large hands massage my back, his lips moved against my skin. “oh eren..” I whined pushing our foreheads together.
Eren is the only guy that can make me feel numb but just one touch. When we kiss I feel so dizzy, and when we make love I feel in a pure daze. I remember when we first joined the survey troops, how we had an agreement to come to each other vent about our days. eren days were way more stressful than mine with hange poking at him and levi on his neck but those moments made me fell for him, he wanted to save everyone, his selflessness. I’m in love with him, but I can’t shake off the pure horror I feel around him. I quickly push-off, almost tripping of the bucket of water, and leaned against the sink. while washing my hands off I notice that I was painfully shaking, looking up in the mirror eren watched my hands in confusion. Eren knew you had panic attacks, but that was after fighting titans or close calls. private moments like this are something that you've always said relaxed your nerves.
as eren reached for them I push him off. “ what the hell y/n” walking back my hands shook more, “ why are you being like this? “ he yelled in confusion.
you couldn't even look in his eyes, it hurt so bad. it hurt so bad that know that you may have to fight someone you loved, someone you imagined a future with. walking outside your cottage, watching Eren tend to the garden. he’d run to you kissing your lips while rubbing your stomach- you guys would fight over baby names. this wasn't your future anymore, it was never going to happen.
“ because I’m scared of you eren..” the atmosphere changed, his hardened face turned soft and for a second I swear I saw the bright blue that used to cover his eyes. my chest caved in, and I began to cry. my skin burning from the hot tears pour down my cheeks as I fought to breathe, Eren watched me shaken.
“oh baby please..” leaning in kissing my cheeks, “ no!” my voice cracked, my hand pushed again Eren's chest as his heartbeat against my palm“ please just let me hold you” as his arms started to warp around me my whole body trembled. “ I know what you did!”
silence tore the air, as we glared into each other. his fist tightens and eren eyes fell down staring at the wooden floor, “ I didn’t know it then, but now I understand- you know what going to happen next.. huh?”
nothing “- and you don’t care about us you don’t care about nothing but your goal of killing everyone..” waiting for pleading for him to fight my words. be he didn’t even look up, my sadness and pain quickly were replaced with distraught. how could he? I grabbed his face, making him look at me.
our eyes bore into each other, the man I love, the man I give myself to complete, wasn't in front of me anymore.
“ I hope you know, when you try to kill me- I will look at you like your nothing but a piece of trash..” my hand slapped against his cheek, as his eyes give me nothing but tiredness. “I hate you eren..” my heels turned, walking towards the shower leaving him there with his thoughts.
closing the bathroom door, I sighed letting the tears fall. I didn't wanna fight him, I couldn't. I didn’t mean those words, I could never hate him.
discarding my sweaty clothes off and started the water. stepping in the shower my worried washed away, the bar of soap cleanses the dirt and sweat from my body.
I knew when the moment came down to it, and my blade was to his neck I wouldn’t be able to do it.
my arms went to my chest as the bathroom door opened, it was eren turning to pull my eyes away my hand scrubbed my skin but I couldn’t help but to watched his figure pull off his clothes and step in then shower.
“Why are you in my shower..” eren frowned, “ a word please?” I looked him up and down trying to not squeeze my legs together. facing him, he looking me up and down, and his member leap led with joy-of course.
rolling my eyes and turning away I continued to wash my body, erens a hand came up to my shoulder. before I could push him off, his finger kneed into my skin, my nerves relaxed under his sudden touch, it's been so long since I felt Eren's touch, “ oh..” I moaned as he continues to loosen all those muscles.
I watched the wet ground as feet became into eren feet came into my view, unkept. “ you could clean your feet” turning to face him, closing his eyes he chuckled“ when was the last time you di-“
cutting me off his thumb trailing my lips, he only did that when he wanted to kiss me. “ since I was last here with you.” pausing I remember when he was here, we took a bathe in the sweet-smelling soap eren brought back for me, we got drunk until we couldn’t stand, and we held each other like it was the last time.
I can’t lose him, I don’t want to fight him. I love him, there has to be a way, a way to keep him here with me. deep in my thoughts eren studied me, “ it doesn’t have to be this way...” my thoughts left my mouth.
“ look this is going to happen... I can’t stop it-“ eren nodded, as if he was trying to convince himself. his body rocked against mine, “ yes you ca-“ I began my hand starting toward his face. “ no!” his voiced rumbled. “ this has to happen, but please y/n I can’t think of this right now..”
his hand begun to massage my neck making my eyes flutter. “ I haven’t seen you in-“
“5 months” we both unison, I longed for eren. no matter what he did, what he said￼, nor what he thought. Eren was on my mind all the time.
“ So can we please..” his lips pecked mine, hold my face close to him with one hand on my neck and the other roaming my body. “let’s just be here together and forget everything else..”
nodding, he took me in with his lips. Oh, how I missed his lips, my stomach had butterflies in them- I was utterly mesmerized by him, even if ￼I wanted to punch him, kick, and scream why! why are you doing this eren, what about our future together? my lips melt against his, as our kiss deepen
coming to terms with what was going to happen wasn’t going to be easy. fight the man you loved, I could only imagine how Armin and mikasa felt. “ stop thinking..” eren awakened me, his digits slipped inside me.
throbbing around him, I lifted my head up and ride his fingers. “ I’ve missed you so much y/n...” gasping I looked down watching curl and twist his finger in and out of me. oh god, my fingers were nothing compared to him.
“ how long has it been since you came...” my eyes low turning my neck to his face. eren started at me, waiting for an answer. thumb pressing against my clit, shallow I stared at his lips. I wanted them all over me- I wanted him all over me.
“ ah - a month ago..” eren moved his thumb drawing circles again me, I remember fucking myself imagining they were eren- wishing and waiting for him to walk in and finish for me. I missed him so, pushing our lips together eren hand gripped my breast, it was sloppy. eren tongue was tangled in my throat as he fucked me with his hand. pulling away to breathe, i groaned using his forearm to hold myself up.
“ it could never compare..” pulling his fingers out of me, my knee dropped and eren arms held me up. his fingers in my face covered in my wetness, he licked them. “ this hand..” eren hips push against my ass feeling his cock throb as he grinned against me. I felt myself pulsing, aching for him“ my body” I shivered, I need him now.
his lips found my ear lobe, “ you don't know how bad I need you y/n” my eyes fluttered in pleasure, his word took hold of me, I'm drowning. eren fingers started again drawing circles on my clit, “ ahhh er-en”
“ nothing compares to you”
“ my hand doesn't even come close to your pussy...” pushing deep into me. I was speechless, “ my pussy...” letting out I sigh I leaned against him as his cock slowly pushed in and out of me. eren hands gripped my chin, making me look into him. those deep green eyes watching my face twist and turn all because of him, what he was doing to me. he loved it, smiling at me. “ tell me it's mine”
my hands clenched against his forearms, I wanted to watch him fuck me- trying to look down is three fingers tighten around my chin giving me a stern look.” tell me its mine y/n” I didn't want to give in, it was his. my pussy belonged to him, pushing are lips together I let our tongues fight against each other as he stopped to focus on our lips. I soften a bit letting the lips slow down against his, I let my right hand let go of his arm so I can run my fingers through his hair.
it's so long, so thick. his lips were so rough, I took it upon myself to lick them and pull away to look at him. he held me tight against him, he was truly beautiful. eren pushed his lips together, trying to savor the feeling of buzzing.
“ eren ill always be yours...” his cheeks redden as his cock twitched inside of me, “y/n it's always be yours”
we decide to wash off leading to an intimate moment of us taking care of each other. Eren's soapy hands bathe my body as I took care of his ￼after we moved to my bedroom . I pushed him against the door giggling against his lips. “ my silly girl” he mumbled as my lips started to trail down to against his neck then chest.
his hand let go of the towel around his waist giving me the best view ever, his cock bumped again me as I dropped to my knees in mercy. looking up at him, his body tense, his face flushed.
my hand moved to his cock, and he dam near jumped. looking back up at him, his lips were about to bite off his upper lip. moving slowly I created a rhythm, my hand fucking his shaft as my lips kissed his tip, panting eren abs clenched. “ y/n ... your..” he moaned deeply “ fuck ah” I open my mouth taking him in.
gripping his thighs, I widen my mouth pushing him deeper down my throat. eren whimpered, grabbing my hair pulling me off, his cock bounced and begged for release. looking up at him, he pulled me up. “it's been too long...’ rolling my eyes I nodded, as he back me up to fall against my bed.
eren crawled on top of me as I watched him. his abs were tight and the smirk on him was present. eren was beautiful, my fingers played against his skin. So warm he is so warm, “you breathe taking y/n” my eyes flickered to met his deep green ones. our lips hovered on top of each other, as my legs parted wider for him as my hips started against him.
“ uhh”eren groan, his breath blew on my lips. guiding himself Eren starting pushing inside me, my eye rolled back and I saw black spots.
eyes watched my body, his eye watching my face twist and turn in pleasure. “ let it out y/n” a loud moan leaving your mouth. It’s been too long, his cock stretched you out, you remember when you were molded perfectly for him back when you are in the survey troops.
due to the extended stay away, you were all tight again. Eren grunted, “ so tight, let’s get you back again okay baby..” whimpering you nodded, hating how easy he had control over you.
pulling his hips away he smashed into me, “I need you” he groaned as I wept into his neck, inhale him, even panted in my ear his hands caressing all around my body. “ eren- aw..h please!”
“ tell me you need me..” my eye rolled into the back of my head, I did. I needed around me, I need him by me. with me, grabbing his face I met his hips with mine eren moaned, “ eren need you..” my legs shaked, as we rocked together.
“I love you y/n” my mouth ajar, I felt everything. eren meant it, his hand hugged my skin. pulling me completely into him. “I love you I love you I love you” he chanted, my walls hugged eren as tight as they could, his name slipped through my lips, and then I soft “ never let me go eren” as I came around him.
my skin buzzed and my chest met his, my nails dug into his back as I whined. “ fuck yes y/n” my body calmed against him as he continued to dive into me.
the slick sound of him pulling in and out of me, make me twitch. I turned to the side, as I was met with his hand- the hand he bites was deeply scarred. I knew it hurt, so kissed his hand. kissing it all away, the pain. “ oh ah..” eren body came closer to me as moaned against me, his lips rolling against mine.
“I wanna make it go away eren..” his moan grew louder as I held him tighter. “ let it go please..” with one final thrust he finished in me, his howls played in my ears as my finger pushed his wet hairs from his face. “ I love you eren..”
after falling into each other, you laid there with each other. catching up about everything, even the things you didn’t want to hear- he told you about his dream and you listened to the same way he did to yours. you both promise that in the next life you find each other- “ us against the world..” you mumbled as eren widen eyed, “ always no matter what that what it’ll be..”
that night you fell asleep peacefully as eren held you tight in his arms. the night fell until dawn, as the sunlight slowly beamed into your room. eren hadn’t slept, how could he with you by his side. this is the calmest he has felt in a while. a snore left your lips, as drool spilled out on his chest- eren blushed pushing your hair out of your face, eren sighed. he knew what had to come.
he knew what he had to do, he knew that meant going against you. there was no other way. It always ended this way “ I’m sorry..”
thank you so much for reading, let me know if you liked it. also my request are open!
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in the ring
pairing. Kotarō Bokuto x f!reader
synopsis. Your brother’s best friend was someone you completely hated, though the both of you knew nothing about each other. And when you find out one of Bokuto’s secrets, things get a little messy. The both of you are now trying to keep each other quiet, but you weren’t expecting things to get out of hand. Not in the way you planned.
genre. slow burn, fluff, angst, tiny bit of smut, brothers best friend au, (underground) boxer au, slight enemies to lovers
warnings. fighting, mentions of blood and injuries, alcohol usage, ooc!characters, harassment, akaashi’s a bad brother, smut including: creampie, unprotected penetration, toxic friendships.
wc. 24k+ (im so sorry)
a/n. this is a SLOW BURN!! like literally they don't start “falling for each other” until 10k words LMAOO. this also took a while to write and me and rae worked pretty hard on it so we hope you enjoy. (did i mention its a slow burn)
this fic is also apart of a valentine’s day collar hosted by @cafemiya !! #hqpromptlyyours is where you’ll be able to find the other fics in this collab, and feel free to check them out
playlist inspired by the fic.
Your friend grabbed your arm and led you down an alleyway, the smell of rotten food and cigarette smoke made your nose crinkle. There weren't many people around especially since it was nearly 2AM on a Thursday, the street lights barely lit up and various bars and convenience stores closed.
“I swear if you’re kidnapping me right now-” You glared at your friend while she was practically dragging you by the arm. Though she just shook her head and laughed, reassuring you that you’re fine. Everything about the situation screamed unsafe, so you couldn’t really say you believed them.
“We’re almost there anyways, just make sure you stay near me. Even when we get there, alright?” A beaten down building came into your view, and just when you thought you were going to turn somewhere else, your friend busts through a door and sighs.
And there’s another door, except this one was guarded by two tall figures. Both are disguised behind some dark glasses and a mask, wearing all black, apart from the bright blue lanyards that hung off their neck.
“How much this time?” Confused by whatever the hell was happening, you just decide to hang back behind your friend. She pulled out her wallet and takes out two $50 bills.
“That’s enough, who are you gonna bet on today?” One of the guards grabs her money and tucks it into his pocket.
Your friend gestured towards the door, which the second guard proceeded to open. “We’ll see, I don’t wanna waste my money on some weak bastard.”
As soon as the door opened a bunch of lights beamed through and the sound of multiple yells and roars evaded your ears. There were crowds of people, all with their fists in the air and voices chanting a person’s name. A small boxing ring with rope surrounding it was in the middle of the room, two boxers with loose shorts and dirty looking boxing gloves swung at each other.
What the fuck did you just walk into?
Your friend gripped your wrists, clearly showing an ecstatic smile on her face. She was nearly jumping up and down from excitement, “I’ll introduce you to Tanaka. He’s the one who got me into this mess anyways.”
“Who’s Tanaka?” You had to shout towards your friend in order for her to hear you as she guided you through the thick crowd.
“I’m Tanaka.” A guy with a buzzcut greeted you, holding his hand out expecting you to shake it. You didn’t.
“Say hello at least! Trust me he’s like the sweetest person ever.” It was then clear to you who this ‘Tanaka’ dude was, he was your friend's boyfriend. And she seemed to be smitten over him. They had already exchanged a few kisses, one on the lips and multiple on the cheek. His hand was gripping the side of her waist.
“Hi, I guess.” You looked around to see many faces, most of which you didn’t recognize. Plus, everyone here looked quite old─︎ at least middle age. Some had half empty beer bottles in their hand, some had bundles of money, and some had blunts and cigarettes. Clearly that was where the smell was coming from.
“She’s not as nice as you made her seem,” Tanaka uttered to his girlfriend, who now had her arms wrapped around him tightly. It seemed as though she was starting to forget about you entirely, especially since she wouldn’t stop staring at Tanaka. And you sure as hell weren’t about to stay around her if she was clinging to him.
“Oh, just let her warm up to you. I promise you then, she’s a sweetheart. Like you are!” You shook your head and cringed at her, feeling even more grossed out when they started violently making out.
You gazed at the boxing ring, the match had just finished and blood was dripping down the face of one of the opponents. The other guy looked just fine, a bit sweaty, but barely injured. As a nearly naked woman walked on stage, a bell sounded through the room and everyone boomed into a cheer. The perfectly looking guy raised his fist up, obviously the winner.
And then once the people got out of the ring, a person began announcing the next opponents for the following match.
“First up, we have the powerful Wakatoshi Ushijima!” A tall looking dude with a stern look on his face walked into the ring, he looked very intimidating. “And going against him, is the champion, Kotaro Bokuto!”
Did you hear that correctly?
You couldn’t fucking believe it. At first you genuinely thought you had misheard the name. But the face of the person who walked into the ring was too familiar for you to be wrong.
“No fucking way…” you were nearly breathless as a smiling Bokuto raised both his fists up, the crowd around you shouting and bursting into a supportive shout.
What was even more outrageous, was the fact that the announcer said “champion’ right before he said Bokuto’s name. He was a damn champion?!
For some reason you were feeling so confused, there was no way that it was actually him. No real way that the Bokuto in that ring was the Bokuto your brother was friends with. The Kotaro Bokuto that came over to your house almost daily to hangout with Akaashi and mess with you.
But it was. And it was weird.
Firstly because he seemed like a totally different person. It also felt wrong to look at him while he was shirtless, his gray shorts hanging quite loose on his hips. Secondly, because he definitely was totally unaware about your presence here. You wondered if Akaashi knew anything about this, and if he did, why did he never tell you?
You watched in complete shock as the two opponents quickly prepared for the fight, shaking their limbs loose and releasing any kind of nerves they had. Bokuto looked fine, you couldn’t really tell if he was nervous or not anyways because of all the people blocking you.
Turning to your right you nudged the person beside you, “Is that Bokuto guy here all the time?” The person nodded and chuckled a little.
“You must be a newbie here, huh?” They took a swig of their beer and offered some to you, you declined them of course. “Bokuto is the best here. This Wakatoshi guy is a new one, never seen him before but I have a feeling he might win this one.” You nodded and thanked the stranger, hearing them mutter after you turned back around, “Should’ve betted on the new guy instead of Bokuto, hmph.”
There was a loud ding followed by a bunch of shouts, the match had started.
Immediately the Ushijima guy swung his fist towards Bokuto’s face, thankfully he ducked right on time and delivered a blow to Ushijima’s torso. Another loud roar of cheers broke through the crowd, everything just felt tense now. You knew nothing about boxing, so all you could really think while watching this match was nothing. This all looked so goddamn brutal.
Bokuto dodged another one of Ushjima’s hits, nearly backing up into a corner. But then Bokuto swung at his opponents face, striking so hard, blood began to drip out of their nose.
“Ouch,” you whispered, disgusted by literally everything that was going on. At this point, you had forgotten about your friend and Tanaka, and were totally engrossed in the tense fight happening in front of you. Bokuto was a good boxer so far from what you saw, he dodged nearly any punch and it looked like his stamina was holding up.
Not until Ushijma locked his fist on Bokuto’s jaw, uppercutting the shit out of him. It caused Bokuto to tumble backwards, his body hitting the rope and his feet nearly making him fall out of the ring. A hushed yell was heard from everyone around you, nobody knew what to do or say. The once crowned “champion” was almost knocked out by a new opponent here.
You frowned when you saw how beaten Bokuto’s face had gotten, the cuts with blood dripping down, the part of his jaw that was a bit swollen. All of it definitely hurt.
And then, Ushijima used his chance to hit Bokuto as many times as he could. Swinging his arms and punching Bokuto with all his power, causing the champion to fall to the ground with an awfully looking bloody face.
Your hand came up to cover your eyes, it was a messy sight to see, and part of you felt bad for Bokuto. But if he’s always usually here then he must be used to it, right?
The referee stopped the match, deciding to just declare Ushijima as the winner. You saw someone swiftly bring Bokuto offstage and check his face, using a small white washcloth to soak up the blood. As the referee was congratulating Ushijima, you gazed at Bokuto. Wondering why he did this, why have you never heard he was a boxer?
Bokuto flinched every time the washcloth touched his face, you could tell the person handling him wasn’t being that gentle with him. They were pulling his face around and genuinely being extremely rough.
People around you scattered to get closer to the winner, Ushijima. A large number of people avoided Bokuto, and you didn’t want to get closer. You didn’t want him to see you were there.
It was almost as if he heard you thinking or something, or maybe he could feel how intensely you were eyeing him. Because right after the washcloth was removed from his face, Bokuto turned his head a little, but just enough for him to lock eyes with you.
The both of you immediately had a panicked look on your face, his eyes widened and so did yours. You quickly twisted around to try and find your friend, but she was nowhere to be found. Not even Tanaka was near you.
With nowhere to really go, you scurried around, trying to find the door that you went through before. Though there were so many people in the room that it was impossible to see any sort of exit. You heard Bokuto’s voice call out your name, and it sounded like he was near you.
“Where are the fucking doors at?!” You shouted frustratedly as Bokuto yelled your name out once more.
He was even closer.
“Get over here!” His voice was more raspy than usual, “Goddamit.” You jumped when you felt his fingers curl around your wrist, his strength was still there even after a fight. Bokuto turned you around and frowned down at you. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He sounded frantic, even a little nervous, but there was also so much anger in his voice.
You couldn’t say anything, you just stood there in fear as Bokuto glared at you. If he told your brother you were here, the amount of trouble you would be in...
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bokuto repeated as he began pulling you along with him, bringing you somewhere and guiding you through the crowd. His hand was slick with sweat and was shaking a little bit, “Why- Who are you with?”
“I didn’t know you were a boxer,” You were finally able to speak, “A bad one too.” Maybe responding to him with an insult was not the best idea.
Bokuto rolled his eyes at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a hallway, you assumed you were somewhere in a backstage area. There was frustration practically rolling off him. You tried squirming out of his grip but it was no use, “Let go of me! My friend is waiti-”
“Friend? Which friend? And why’d they bring you here?” Bokuto pushed some doors open and led you down the hallway, torn up posters litter the floor and you saw water bottles scattered all over the place, he then threw you into a room and shut the door. There was almost no mistaking that he was angry, his face was twisted into a scowl. Specifically, one directed at you.
You cross your arms, “How come you never told me you were a boxer?” He slid his gloves off and tossed them to the ground, grabbing a towel out of nowhere and using it to wipe his face.
“Since it’s none of your business. Who’s your friend?”
“None of your business,” you decided to stroll about the room, eyeing the dirty trophies that sat on shelves. “This place is cool.” You muttered, not noticing the droplets of blood that were on some of them. And although the place was “cool” it smelled like a sewer dump. Does no one clean around here?
“This place is dangerous, I can’t have you here.” Outside the room, you could hear a loud roar of yells, another match must’ve started.
“And when have you ever cared about my safety, Bokuto? You never paid much attention to me whenever you’re at the house. Besides, any encounter we had with each other always resulted in some sort of annoying banter.” It was true though, the both of you weren’t exactly fond of each other. Akaashi even knew that, which is why he always advised you to just stay in your room if Bokuto was ever over.
“Never, but I know Akaashi would be pissed if you came home hurt and I was the reason for it.” Suddenly the door busted open and in came Bokuto’s panting manager, obviously looking pissed. He hurled towards Bokuto and grabbed onto his shirt, slamming him into a wall.
“You piece of shit! You weak, pathetic, piece of fucking shit!!” Bokuto’s manager pushed him once more into the wall, huffing violently as they slapped him. Your eyes widened in shock as the manager scolded Bokuto, how had he not realized there was someone else in the room?
“You wanna know what you did? Bokuto? Hm?” He pulled his pockets inside out, “I lost over $5,000 fucking dollars because of you.”
“It’s not my faul-”
“Not your fault? You lost.”
“Well you didn’t tell me shit about that guy, you gave me no warning. You never do!” Bokuto was yelling at this point, veins were becoming prominent on his forehead and neck, his ears had now turned red.
His manager still hadn’t noticed you, “No warnings my ass. I told you to train harder than you usually do, is that not a warning?” He scoffs, “Fuck you. And good luck finding a new manager.”
As the door slammed shut, you were left alone with a tense Bokuto. He was staring at the ground silent, maybe even he had forgotten you were there. Out of nowhere Bokuto bursted into a fit of anger, punching the first thing he saw. Which was a trophy case.
Glass shattered everywhere and fell onto the ground, his fist was bleeding severely and you could see that a bunch of bruises were already starting to show. Bokuto screamed out a few curse words, followed by more, and a few more.
You were frozen in shock, not quite knowing what to do, “B-Bokuto?”
He turned to you furiously, “I’m taking you home, you won’t tell anyone about this. Not even Akaashi. No one. Got it?” His tone felt a bit threatening, truthfully you were a little scared. He was never this intimidating.
Without saying a thing you just nodded at him, and he stormed over to you and grabbed your wrist before leading you back out towards his car. Once the both of you were in, Bokuto drove quickly to your house.
When you arrived, he spoke lowly, “And don’t ever go back there. Ever.”
The sound of the doorbell rang inside the house, Akaashi chugged down the water he was drinking to go and answer it. You were washing dishes as always, cleaning up the mess your brother left whenever you were out of the house.
There weren’t many dishes to wash considering the fact only you and Akaashi lived in the house. You still hadn’t found a place to move into yet since college was taking most of your money, so Akaashi had offered you to live with him. It was also just because you were his sister, of course he wanted to be nice to his sister.
Akaashi opened the door and welcomed his guest, the guest he had over all the time. “Dude, how long did it take you to get here? I’ve been waiting for hours.”
You peeked over your shoulder to see someone walk in, their loose fitting clothes hiding what was underneath. Bokuto kept his gaze off you as he entered the house, clearly limping and wincing whenever he used his arms. He probably thought he did a good job of hiding his injuries, but you could clearly still see some cuts on his cheek and a nasty bruise on his jawline.
“Yeah, I had to, uh, deal with something real quick.” Bokuto’s voice was awfully raspy, as you eyed him more he turned around towards you. Quickly you swirled back around to finish washing up the dishes, pretending as if you weren’t just staring directly at him. Observing him like some sort of artwork in a museum.
Bokuto closed the door behind him and took off his shoes, you just kept paying attention to the rest of the dishes left in the sink. Three plates and 2 bowls, after you were done cleaning these dishes you could run upstairs to your room and stay in there until Bokuto left again. Then after he leaves you won’t have to face him or talk to him for a while...and that while would only last a day or two.
You sighed as you rinsed a plate, trying to quicken your pace. They usually hung out in the living room, watching TV or playing video games, or simply just doing whatever they did. Bokuto never really spoke to you that much, but any time he did it always was the two of you playfully fighting. Though you weren’t sure “playful” was a way to describe it.
Akaashi glanced at the visible injuries on Bokuto, “What happened? You look like you got jumped or some shit,” he pointed at the bruise on Bokuto’s jawline.
This made you stand up straight, you wondered what Bokuto would say. Had this ever happened before? Did Akaashi ever see any of Bokuto’s injuries, if he even had any?
“Ah, got in a fight at a bar. It’s alright though. Hurts a bit but nothing serious.”
So he had excuses. A bar fight. Believable. A drunk person would have definitely punched him the jaw hard enough to cause a bruise, for whatever reason. Maybe a glass bottle broke and he got cut on his cheek. All reasonable.
But you knew it wasn’t a bar fight; it was a fight, just not at a bar.
You finished up washing the dishes and dried your hands, keeping your gaze low as you scurried past Bokuto and Akaashi to get to the stairs. Without even making it to the first stair you felt some grab onto your arm, pulling you back just a little. When you turned around you saw Bokuto, his eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes were bloodshot. He probably got no sleep last night.
“Akaashi is in the bathroom, did you tell him anything?” Bokuto asked you harshly, he was acting as if you were some sort of tattletell.
You shrugged off his arm, “No, besides he was asleep when I came back. I don’t tell my brother everything that happens in my life, y’know?” Curiosity was building up in you and you wanted to ask him so much. More importantly, why Akaashi didn’t know. But before the both of you could talk more, Akaashi came out of the bathroom and ruffled his hair. You took your chance to bolt up the stairs and back into your room.
Suddenly your phone rang, and you saw it was your friend calling. The one who took you to the boxing match last night. Hesitant to pick up, you merely just stared at their name on your screen, waiting for it to go to a black screen. Except when it did, her name just popped up again, and again.
“Hello?” In the background you could hear some music and some other voices, you immediately heard your friend sigh when you finally picked up.
“Ugh, how long does it take for you to answer? Seriously, if I call more than twice then it should alarm you right away that maybe I might be in trouble! Hm!” You rubbed your eyes and flopped onto your bed, she didn’t even sound like she was in danger. “Anyways, how did you enjoy the fight last night? Pretty fun to watch?”
Truthfully the fight actually was sort’ve interesting, especially since one of the boxers was right downstairs hanging out with your brother. But you knew if you said that you enjoyed watching it your friend would invite you to go see another one. And you did not want to risk Bokuto spotting you there again, if he even went back there.
“Eh, not really.” You could hear the TV downstairs, it sounded like they were playing another one of their video games with the volume on high.
“Whatever, Tanaka is making me go to another one tomorrow night and I want you to come. Don’t say no! Besides I already told your brother that you were gonna be hanging out with me and he said it’s fine. Can’t get your way out of this,” she laughed. Obviously you liked hanging out with your friends, but when it was at some other place, not a secret super-sketchy boxing arena.
Scoffing under your breath, you gave in and agreed to hangout with her, the two of you talked for a bit before you hung up and screamed into your pillow. You could go downstairs and ask your brother why he was making decisions for you without telling you, but the fear of having to talk to─︎ or even look at Bokuto kept you up in your room.
You were now getting ready to go back to that arena, putting a little bit of makeup on and fixing your hair so it didn’t look like such a mess. Akaashi was asleep, probably taking a nap. And Bokuto was at his house, well, hopefully he was.
Tanaka had gotten your number from your friend and had texted you asking for your address, apparently he was going to pick you up right after he got some food.
Honestly you weren’t that excited to go back to that arena, to be surrounded by those smelly people and crowded into a small space. You didn’t want to see your friend making out with Tanaka. You didn’t want to make Bokuto mad either.
Or maybe you did.
This was gonna bother him. Simply just you being there, in the crowd, if he saw you then he would definitely get angry again. Possibly pull you backstage again to scold your decision for coming.
Although a part of you wanted him to be mad, wanted him to be irritated and angry with you. It would only make him hate you even more, that was for certain, but it would be fun to mess with him.
“Hurry your ass up!” Tanaka shouted from the driver's seat as he pulled up in front of your house while your friend sat in the passenger’s seat. “The shit starts in like 20 minutes, and I don’t wanna miss any of it.”
He seemed comfortable around you, even though the two of you had only recently just met. Yet he was speaking to you as if he had known you for a long time. You ran towards the car and jumped into the backseat, as soon as you clicked in your seatbelt Tanaka pressed on the gas and the car urged forward.
You stayed pretty quiet the whole drive, staring mindlessly out the window as your friend turned up the radio to listen to some music. Tanaka hummed along to some songs, honking at cars that got in his way or cursing people out beside him that honked at him. A reckless driver, you noticed.
When the streets started looking more darker and scarier, you knew you likely were getting closer. And as you expected, you were right. He had parked the car along a sidewalk, after everyone got out he made sure to lock it at least twice. Then your friend grabbed onto your wrist and made sure you were following her.
It was the same path from last time, same alleyway you had to walk through that led you towards the building. Darker than before though.
You entered the same way as well, but the only difference was that before you went to the guards, Tanaka handed you $25 and told you to bet on someone named “Atsumu Miya” who you just assumed was one of the boxers. You wondered if Bokuto was here tonight, maybe you could say his name instead. But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself and say his name if he wasn’t here, so you gave the money to the guards and repeated the name Tanaka told you.
Once you were let inside you were met with a similar smell of cigarette smoke and beer, also a bit of vodka and sweat. This time you actually had a seat as well, not too far from the ring, it actually was a little close.
“I’m friends with Atsumu, he let us get front row seats.” Tanaka briefly explained to you, “Do you know who he’s going up against?”
You shook your head.
Tanaka had a little smile on his face, “I think you know him, guess we’ll have to find out.”
What the hell did that mean?
A few minutes went by before the announcer came onto the ring, a microphone in his hand and a tray full of cash in the other. He spoke into the mic, welcoming everyone and thanking everyone for betting. After that he said some nonsense, plus a few jokes that got the crowd laughing which you paid no attention to, then he began to announce who the opponents were.
“First up, we have Atsumu Miya!” A decently tall dude then came into the ring, his boxing gloves were a maroon red color, and his shorts were black. He seemed confident, he held his head up high and smiled when the majority of the crowd cheered for him.
“And of course, going up against him, is the one and only Kotaro Bokuto!” You looked away once Bokuto ran into the ring, attempting to make sure that he couldn’t see you by accident. What made it even worse was the fact that you were pretty close to the ring, if he glanced your way, it would be pretty easy to spot you. This was when you wished you were standing in the pit, surrounded by all those people.
You didn’t watch the two of them shake hands, you just stared at the floor. As much as you did want to watch, the risk of looking at Bokuto and him somehow catching you was terrifying. So as long as you tried your best to seem invisible, you would be fine. Well you hoped you would.
The bell was rung indicating the match had started, everyone had gone a bit quiet as they intensely watched the beginning of the match. The air around you began to become more tense.
Tanaka leaned over to you and pointed at Atsumu, “He’s a good one, hard hits and focuses on attacking the body rather than the face. Bokuto on the other hand usually goes for the whole person, oh gosh you should’ve see-”
The crowd all stood up and shouted loudly, you looked up to see Atsumu on the ground, his whole body already shining with sweat.
“Ah shit! You saw that right?” Tanaka turned, you nodded, but in reality you literally saw none of what happened. “Anyways, you should’ve seen all of Bokuto’s past matches. Most of them he won which then got him the champion title, he’s good.”
Your friend nudged Tanaka a little, “He’s good, but that Ushijima guy seemed to crush him. Let’s hope Bokuto isn’t burnt out.”
Deciding to take a quick little glance at Bokuto, you could see he was also pretty sweaty. His bruises were badly covered by makeup, but it was easy to point out all the injuries he had gotten, they looked even worse than before.
The second round had started and Bokuto already got in a few punches, some of which Atsumu was able to block. Whenever Bokuto was able to catch his opponent off guard, he struck wherever was open. It was usually the torso, but sometimes he would be able to strike the head.
Each punch towards Atsumu’s face though, was blocked.
After a few rounds, Bokuto had won the majority of them. Though you could tell that the Atsumu guy was starting to get a little bit agitated, he had a harsh scowl on his face especially when he looked at Bokuto. For the most part you kept your eyes low, not paying attention to any of the rounds and only looking up when the next round had started. Bokuto hadn’t noticed you yet.
But he was eventually gonna see you, sitting next to your friend and Tanaka, fumbling with the loose threads on your clothes and listening to whatever Tanaka told you about this shit. Eventually he was gonna look over in your direction and either catch you staring at the floor or staring at him.
When he did, he was fucking pissed.
He had told you not to come back to this place, it was dangerous. Yet there you were, sitting in the first goddamn row. He remembered Tanaka’s face, he was friend’s with Atsumu and he had seen the two of them talking yesterday at the training room. Bokuto was blaming Tanaka for dragging you here.
Even worse though, was that seeing you got him all distracted. He wondered if Akaashi knew you were here, if he knew you were out hanging with your friends watching an illegal underground boxing match. He knew Akaashi was completely clueless to it.
Bokuto swung back into the new round, trying his best to keep up with Atsumu and not get distracted by his own thoughts. It was really bad that you were here. Akaashi would absolutely get furious with you if he knew where you were at, would it be more distressing to him knowing that Bokuto was there too?
Atsumu hooked his arm into Bokuto’s face, causing one of his cuts to open back up and bleed. A wave of dizziness took over Bokuto before he shook his head to clear it away, he tried to focus as hard as he could. Atsumu was visibly getting more and more tired, his stamina seemed to be wearing off. There would be no point in letting him win, Atsumu was a bit of a show-off, and winning against Bokuto would boost his ego even more.
Focus. Bokuto thought over and over about his next move, which one would cause the most damage? Which one would let him win?
Bokuto took a jab at his opponent, leaving him open for any hits and Atsumu took this chance to punch Bokuto right in the stomach. It hurt. A lot.
The pain from that punch combined with your presence just made Bokuto want to puke. He didn’t feel good whatsoever. His last match left his whole body sore, every time he moved it ached, every time he blinked his headache worsened, the noise from the crowd made his ears ring. Everything hurt.
Losing one match couldn’t hurt though. His title was still “champion” and he was still seen as the best. Losing this match wouldn’t ruin that reputation.
Atsumu would of course have a massive confidence boost if he won this match. He would relish in his win, in the money he would earn. All his mind would be thinking was about winning this match.
A rematch, that’s it. That was Bokuto’s solution.
He would lose this one, let Atsumu bathe in all his fucking dumb glory, ask for a rematch, and then beat the shit out of him.
So that’s just what he did, making sure he looked like he was slightly giving up. Throwing weaker punches when he knew Atsumu was able to block them, putting down his guard to let his opponent punch him.
And he let Atsumu win. He let everyone cheer and boo at their loss of money betting on him, he let everyone feel disappointed in the champion for beating someone so obviously weak.
He was the weak one now.
Right when he was allowed to go backstage he did, he ran and threw his gloves on the ground. Bokuto slumped on his chair, chest heaving up and down rapidly as he tried to recollect his thoughts. Even though he planned on losing the match, he knew people would now start talking bad about him and how he was weak.
He wasn’t weak.
He didn’t want to be weak.
Yet as he sat in the chair, face all bloody and body all bruised, he felt weak. Everything about him now was broken. Bokuto lifted his head up slowly to look up at his reflection, scoffing lowly to himself. Any of his cuts from the match with Ushijima had now become terribly worse, they looked so swollen and nasty and he grimaced at his own reflection. His bruises were surely going to turn into a dark blackish-purple color that wouldn’t fully fade away until after a month or so.
What made everything seem more miserable was the fact he had lost his manager, and he couldn’t fix himself up. He never learned how to treat his own wounds, which was stupid of course, but he always just depended on his manager to heal everything.
He heard someone humming softly outside, their shoes dragging along the floor as they passed by his room.
When he peered at the doorway, he saw you peeking in, a scared and nervous look etched on your face.
“Bokuto?” Your voice was nearly a whisper.
He grimaced as your eyes scanned his broken face. “What the hell are you doing back here? How did you- What the fuck?”
“I was let in, I just wanted to like...I don’t know,”
“Talk to me? Congratulate me on losing?” He was angry. Very. You saw that he was much more angrier than last time, much more. He couldn’t really do anything though. You noticed that if he moved even in the slightest bit, he winced.
“No, not really. Akaashi doesn’t know I’m here just so you know. He thinks I’m hanging out at my friend’s house.” On the floor Bokuto’s clothes had a water bottle on top of them, as well as some money. Assuming it was money from some bets, you wondered how much money he earned on a daily basis just from this “career.” If this was even considered a career. Was it even legal?
“The friend you’re with right now? The one who brought you here?” You nodded. “I don’t like them that much, neither Tanaka.”
“Well I never really asked-”
“Can you just go? You’re making me more annoyed than I already am.” A frown grew on his face, “I don’t need your help.”
“I never offered.” You then realized where you were, and who you were talking to. Why were you acting so calm? He was Bokuto. There was no point in really being nice to him anyways. He obviously didn’t care. So you turned your back towards him and began to walk away, crossing your arms in annoyance.
Bokuto scoffed, “You’re so fucking dumb.”
You stopped in your tracks surprised by his words, “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me, I know you did.” He stood up and looked at you. “Why didn’t you listen? This place is dangerous, I don’t want you here and you should’ve gotten that when I told you. You’re the reason I lost.”
This made you laugh a little, when you turned around his brows were furrowed together and he had that same angry look on his face. “Me? I’m the reason that you─︎ the person who was fighting─︎ lost?” You shook your head and chuckled, “I wasn’t even watching you.”
Something in Bokuto’s face expression changed, you couldn’t tell what but he obviously didn’t expect you to say that.
You tried not to look at any of the cuts on his body either, the two of you were just bathing in tension. But you couldn’t just insult him and then leave him in physical pain─︎ you weren’t that big of an asshole. Would he even appreciate it though if you helped him clean up, maybe not. Akaashi would definitely question Bokuto about everything, if Bokuto came over tomorrow and your brother saw any bruises, he would be totally confused and basically interrogate him.
Your eyes scanned the room before they landed on a small first aid kit, as you went to go and get it Bokuto glared at you. He was lost as to what you were doing, why were you just walking around the room?
“Go and sit down,” you ordered him to do, he didn’t at first, but when he saw you pick up the first aid kit he grabbed a chair and sat. You walked over to him while you opened up the first aid kit and grabbed some of the things inside. “I’m only doing this because you’re my brother's closest friend, nothing else.”
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” He asked you, Bokuto glanced at the multiple bandages and alcohol wipes on the ground. You grabbed his water bottle and asked him if he had a clean washcloth or towel, he pointed to his backpack and you went to go get it.
You zipped it open and began rummaging through it, “Of course, Keiji used to get really drunk at parties and come home hurt. I was usually the one to fix him back up.”
When you found his clean towel, you scurried back over to him and sat down on the floor. The injuries on his torso were much worse than the ones anywhere else, so that’s where you first focused on. You poured some water onto the towel and wiped a cut as gently as you could, he winced a little and you jerked backwards.
“Sorry,” you immediately said. He was pretty sweaty so you wiped around the cut, cleaning the outside of it carefully. After that you placed the towel on it, soaking up some blood before you took it off and poured some water on it.
“Shit-” Bokuto twitched, he heard you apologize again, he wondered why you said sorry so much. Obviously it would hurt, there was really no need for you to say sorry.
You found some ointment in the kit and slathered a little bit onto the wound, then covered it up with a bandaid. Repeating the process a few more times on the other cuts around his body, Bokuto soon had multiple bandaids placed on him.
He was shocked at how gentle you were being as well, he noticed how hard you tried not to put too much pressure on anything, and you avoided touching any bruises on him. Even when you placed the bandaids on him, your touch was so light.
“Are you coming over tomorrow?”
Bokuto tried to shrug but he could feel the tension in all his limbs, “Not sure. I might be too sore to even walk.”
“Mm,” you finished cleaning and covering all his cuts and sat back, “If you want to you can come over, I can help make these bruises hurt a little less.”
“What about Akaashi?”
“Um, well if he saw how badly hurt you are I don’t think he would mind me helping you out.” You snickered, Bokuto just nodded.
“Oh,” he sighed and cracked his knuckles, immediately regretting it afterwards. “Do you need me to take you home? Or can that stupid friend of yours drive you?”
You had totally forgotten about them. “Goddamit, they’re probably looking for me. Hold on, let me call them.” Pulling your phone you called your friend first, and when she didn’t pick up you decided to call Tanaka. Luckily he did pick up.
“Hey, where the fuck did you go? We were trying to look for you but nope, you were missing!” Tanaka was laughing for some reason, you could hear some people singing awfully in the background.
“Ah, um, I needed to talk to someone, are you guys still here?” Crossing your fingers you hoped that they didn’t leave without you, riding with Bokuto would just be...awkward.
“Are we still there? Hell no, we took Atsumu to this karaoke bar restaurant place, I’m sure you can call someone else to pick you up right?” Tanaka spoke loudly into the phone.
You peered down and uncrossed your fingers, “Oh, right okay. Sorry for asking, are yo-”
“Fucking Ats- I gotta go, just got vodka on my shirt. Bye!”
Bokuto’s head tilted a little at you, “What’d he say?”
“They uh...they already left.” The disappointment was clear in your tone, you were sure it showed on your face too. “It’s alright though, I was supposed to stay near them but I didn’t so it’s partly my fault I guess.”
“I’ll take you home then.” He winced as he got up, “Your brother will be asleep right?”
You shrugged when you stood up, “Either that or he won’t be there at all.”
“He parties a lot, I thought you would know that…?” Bokuto motioned towards his backpack and so you picked it up, shoving his water bottle and dirty towel into it as well.
“I’m usually not hanging with him most nights, cause, y’know...this.” Gripping his backpack in his hand he began to walk towards an exit, you followed, ignoring the stares both you and Bokuto got from people who were lingering in the hallways. “Why don’t you move out anyways, isn’t Akaashi annoying to you? Plus you’re old enough to buy a house.”
He pushed a door open for you and let you out, “Houses are expensive, I can’t find anyone who I’m willing to be roommates with, and finding a decent paying job around here is hard.”
“What do you mean? I earn a couple thousand from my job like every week,”
“You also earn a good amount of injuries from your job, everyday.” He didn’t laugh at you, all he did was get in his car and wait for you to sit in the passenger seat before turning it on. The car looked pretty much the same as it did last time you were in here, except it became just a tad bit dirtier. You noticed Bokuto still didn’t have a shirt on and he had his boxing trunks on too, “Do you um─︎ not have a shirt? Or...anything to cover up?”
Bokuto almost did laugh at you this time, “A shirt? I’d rather not try and put on one right now, might mess up one of these patched up cuts you did.” He then pointed to one of the bandaids you put on him, “Besides, you’ve probably seen countless shirtless men before.”
It was around 12PM and you were still laying in bed, not wanting to get up and shower or change your clothes. Keiji still wasn’t home yet and the house was silent, up until you heard the sound of the doorbell.
You perked up, rubbing your eyes and fixing your hair with your fingers to make it somewhat nice. Expecting to see your brother or maybe some random delivery guy with a package, you slipped on your bunny slippers and stretched, slowly going down the stairs before opening the door.
“Hi─︎” Your eyes widened at who you saw, “Bokuto?”
“Hey,” he suddenly felt like maybe you changed your mind after last night and didn’t want him over anymore, or you just didn’t feel like tending to him. You looked very shocked when you saw him, Bokuto could tell you definitely just got out of bed. “Bad timing?”
“Yeah, no, well yes, but─︎ no...come in,” opening the door further you stepped backwards as Bokuto entered the house.
“Your brother home?” He asked, you shook your head. “Where is he?”
Shrugging, you replied with a simple, “I dunno.”
“How do you not know where he is?” Bokuto took his shoes off and set them next to the door, having to hide his groan of pain when he slightly bent down to move them.
“He wasn’t home when you dropped me off last night, and when I woke up, he still wasn’t here.” You briefly explained, though as troubling as that might’ve seemed you were ultimately quite used to it at this point. Coming home to an empty house and waking up to one wasn’t unusual, Keiji would come home around the afternoon either extremely drunk or extremely tired. “He’ll be home soon though, probably.”
“Oh, alright.” Bokuto felt a little awkward...the two of you never had been alone together in this house before, Akaashi was always here. And now he wasn’t. It was weird for him mostly, because he barely knew you and knew you didn’t really like him anyways, so he didn’t know what to say. And it was so quiet too.
“How are your bruises? Are they bad?” You walked to the kitchen to grab some water for yourself, sitting on the counter you watched as Bokuto limped when he came near you.
“Red and a little purple already, some of my jaw has swelled up for some reason and my mouth always tastes like blood.” After he said that he gave you a tired smile, he was used to being in pain most of the time because of how badly his ex-manager treated him. He would slam a half-melted ice pack to Bokuto’s bruises and call it a day after 5 minutes, then would tell Bokuto that he had another match against someone the next day.
“Have you showered?” Showering would help him with some of the soreness, it wouldn’t help a ton but it could definitely soothe him. A hot bath would be even better, maybe after the majority of his cuts healed.
“Yep, and I replaced all the bandages after.” Bokuto took a seat by the counter and grimaced, the feeling of the water touching all his fresh and new cuts just made him squirm, it hurt so bad he literally had to back away from the showerhead for a moment to gather himself.
“Did you eat breakfast yet, or lunch?” It was important that he ate too, after a match like last night he should keep his body full of food. Bokuto’s body was probably so fucking tired of the countless punches and beatings he took during boxing.
“You ask too many questions, just do whatever you’re gonna do to my bruises and shit so I can go.”
“Fine then,” going quickly back upstairs and grabbing a first-aid kit you had, you pulled out some ointment to put on his cuts and also a few bandages just in case some needed to be replaced again, then you grabbed two washcloths and one of your stuffed animals. When you went back downstairs and Bokuto caught sight of the plushie in your hand, he burst into laughter.
“Why the hell do you have an owl stuffed animal?” He chuckled, shaking his head when you set it down in front of him.
“For you to grab on when something hurts.” You scowled, “Would you like a different animal instead, Bokuto?”
“No, nah this one’s good.” Rolling your eyes you placed everything else on the counter and opened the freezer, grabbing some ice cubes to wrap inside the washcloth. Carefully, Bokuto tugged off his shirt and showed off his array of wounds.
Heading towards Bokuto you started off with a smaller bruise, this one wasn’t as visible as the others so far. After only one day you couldn’t believe how bad his bruises had already gotten. You placed the washcloth over it and applied a bit of pressure, when the tension in the swelling of his bruises slowly faded, Bokuto’s body loosen up.
He also loosened up at how once again, you were being so gentle with him. Making sure that you were putting a reasonable amount of pressure on the swelling, and softly peeling the bandaids up just so you could double-check the cuts.
“Some of these we gotta clean again, and I’m gonna put some ointment on them too so they can heal up a bit faster. Also, tomorrow I want you to do this ice-pack stuff on any bruise you have. Then the day after that either take a warm bath for a while or hold warm washcloths over them, it’ll help.”
Bokuto nodded, he glanced back over at the owl plushie next to him and disguised his humored smile by rolling his eyes. He didn’t think he would actually need it until he saw you grab an alcohol wipe, taking one of his bandages off and wiping the cut.
His hands turned into tight fists as he nearly punched the counter, “Ow! Shit- what the fuck! Why did that hurt so fucking- shit.” He sucked in through his teeth.
“Sorry, I mean it’s obviously gonna hurt. It’s an alcohol wipe, dude.” You muttered, “Gonna wipe this other cut so prepare yourself I guess.”
Bokuto cursed even more when you cleaned a few more of his cuts, at this point his fingers were practically digging into his palm. He honestly didn’t want to, but it would be useful, he grabbed the owl plush and nearly popped it’s head from how hard he was squeezing it. But it helped.
You applied the ointment onto the cuts and covered them back up with fresh bandaids. “And there we go! Pretty much done, but you’re gonna need to rest for at least a week. You don’t have any matches for the next week or two, right?”
He cracked his knuckles and frowned, “No, my whole body is in pain and I genuinely think if I went into another match anytime soon I’ll die. So the next two weeks are off, but I still need to train.”
“Train? No, you need to rest.”
“How do you expect me to stay fit if I’m just lying in my bed the whole day?” Bokuto complained, he wanted to cross his arms but he was pretty sure if he tried to, it would hurt.
“Your body is pretty beat up and I’m sure a little bit of not doing anything will be fine. Just try not to do anything vigorous or whatever.” Cleaning everything off the counter you stared at the owl plush, its body was a bit deformed and so was the head. “What did you do to it!”
Bokuto looked back at the plush and snickered, “Oops.” He laughed at your annoyed face, “Why doesn’t it have a name?”
“Because, I couldn’t come up with anything.” You picked up the owl and began heading upstairs to put everything away.
“Should I stay or do you want me to go?”
“Do whatever you wanna do, Bokuto.”
Keiji had come downstairs laughing, “Party time!!”
Earlier this afternoon when your brother had finally come home, he told you about the birthday party the both of you got invited too. It was for one of his friends, Yamamoto, and even though you weren’t specifically invited, you were expected to come.
There would be at least one person you knew there, hopefully.
So you got ready for this birthday party, putting some casual clothes on. The party would probably just be full of drunk people and sweaty, dancing bodies. Keiji was bringing a whole bag filled with various bottles of alcohol, as well as one family-size bag of chips.
He drove the two of you to Yamamoto’s house, immediately getting out of the car when you arrived and greeting his friend happy birthday. You did the same and walked into the house.
Glancing around it was obvious that there was no one here you knew, not a single person looked your way either. Everyone was already drinking, red plastic cups in everybody’s hand and some people were stuffing food into their mouths.
“Gross,” you muttered under your breath. You then decided to just stay in a little area where no one really was at, pushing through the dancing bodies you successfully made it over to a corner, feeling a bit more safer and less crowded.
A few minutes passed by, you weren’t being bothered by anybody yet.
A guy stood in front of you and was clearly drunk, “Where you goin’?” His eyes raked over you and he licked his lips.
Already, you were pretty fucking uncomfortable. “Uh, nowhere.” Being cornered by this random guy was something you did not want at all, so you tried to walk away, but he only grabbed you and pulled you back towards him.
“C’mon, don’t act like a bitch. Want me to get you a drink?” His words were slurring together more, and the guy was swaying side to side a bit.
You looked around for Keiji, but he wasn’t anywhere near you. “No, can you just-”
“Just one drink, look, you can finish the rest of mine if you want.” He grabbed a cup from behind him, sloshing the random liquid inside it around.
You didn’t even bother looking at the drink before declining it, pushing his hand away and turning around. Then suddenly the guy’s hand gripped on your upper arm and he pulled you closer towards him, his hot breath now hitting the side of your cheek and neck.
“Don’t walk away from me, I was trying to offer you a drink, be nice.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, “If you’re headed towards a room, can I follow?” It didn’t sound like a question to you at all, it sounded more like a suggestion.
You shook your head, “Let go of me,” his grip on you only tightened.
“How ‘bout, a drink first.” The guy lifted the cup near your face, giving you a view of the unknown liquid that was in it. “It’s a good drink, trust me.”
“And trust me if you don’t let go of this girl right now, you’ll probably be dead.” Bokuto’s voice came from behind the guy, your eyes met with his stoic face, he was now standing to the side of the guy and had his arms crossed.
“I’m sorry? Who the fuck are you?” Thankfully the guy let go of you, nudging you slightly away from him.
“If that drink in your hand right now is “good”, why don’t you drink it yourself?” Bokuto looked very annoyed. You recognized the look he had on his face, it was familiar to the look he had whenever he was boxing.
“Shut up,” the guy had muttered to you, “I don’t understand why you interrupted our nice little conversation, what’s your name anywa-”
“Was the conversation nice? Because I’m sure I saw her trying to push you away.” You could see some people already starting to form a crowd around the two men and yourself. “Are you not going to drink that?” Bokuto pointed to the cup in the guy’s hand, “Or do you need me to make you drink it?”
You tried looking for your brother but he was nowhere to be seen, not even in the visible crowd that was getting larger.
The guy chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows at Bokuto, then, he raised his fist and swung at Bokuto.
Bokuto dodged the punch and immediately hit the guy in his abdomen, causing him to hunch over and spill the drink. You covered your gasp with a hand and watched as Bokuto kicked the guy, before picking him up by his shirt and spitting on his face.
Now everyone was watching, phones were out and you were almost 100% sure you could hear some girl crying.
You thought at this point the small fight was over, but no, the guy was able to stand back up and push Bokuto backwards. He insisted throwing another punch but missed, instead his fist hit thin air.
The guy stumbled towards where you were and nearly bumped into you, but Bokuto grabbed him by his shirt again and punched his face. His nose was all bloody now, “You fucking asshole!”
Bokuto smirked when he dodged another one of the punches, and didn’t realize how close they were to you before he swung again, instead of hitting his intended target, he hit you. Right by the shoulder, causing you to lean down a bit and wince.
When Bokuto had realized who he hit instead, he immediately stopped. “Shit, I─︎ goddammit,” he grunted as he helped you up off the ground and pulled you away from the crowd, with an arm around your waist Bokuto guided you up the stairs quickly, making his way through the floor to find a random room without anyone in it.
He opened the door to a room and thankfully...it was empty, he pulled you towards the bed, you were quietly cursing from the pain that was spreading down your arm. “How bad does it hurt?” He asked...you glared at him like he was stupid.
“How bad do you think it fucking hurts?”
“Sorry, I do punch just a little hard.” He snickered but stopped right away when he saw how irritated you seemed. “Are you gonna tell Akaashi?”
“Seriously? You accidentally punched me and I’m in pain...and the one main thing you seem worried about is whether or not I’m gonna snitch.” You nearly laughed at how funny this whole situation was, well it actually wasn’t that funny, getting punched by him was not really something you had planned on.
“Right, yeah, you won’t tell him though right? ‘Cause like, if you he’ll either be super pissed at me or-”
“Can you shut up and get me an ice pack.”
Bokuto sighed and got up, leaving you in the room as he went to grab you an icepack and also some water, he also tried to find Akaashi, but there was no luck with that.
The scene downstairs had somewhat cleared, the guy was gone somewhere and the crowd was scattered around now. When Bokuto appeared at the foot of the stairs, some people turned their heads to look at him.
As he made his way to the freezer to grab some ice, he noticed how people moved away from him even if they weren’t near him. Some widened their eyes in fear and some began whispering to their friends, he didn’t quite mind, not really.
He took a ziploc bag from a drawer and filled it with some ice cubes, then grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before running back up the stairs. “Fucking weirdos,” he muttered.
Once he opened the door to the room he found you had exposed the area he accidently hit, your shoulder now visible as you poked at it and winced. It didn’t look that bad, though he was sure it would swell up and bruise in a few days.
“Was my brother downstairs?” You asked Bokuto when he handed you the ice pack. Keiji was either drunk as hell and sleeping somewhere, or he was doing...other things. But you would at the very least expect him to do something about a fight, especially if it involved his little sister.
“Didn’t see him, but it seems like a few people went home.” Bokuto was sure that someone would tell Akaashi what happened, and sooner or later there was a lazy knock at the door.
When it opened, Akaashi stumbled inside. “Woaahh, heard what happened, are you hurt?” He was fucking drunk. Very fucking drunk. He shut the door and then wobbled over to you, tilting his head at the ice pack pressed against your shoulder.
“No shit, how much did you have to drink?” You asked, Akaashi just shrugged and then flopped onto the bed.
“I found you a job,” he suddenly said.
“Bokuto, tell me about your manager.” Akaashi waved a finger in the air at Bokuto, “Tell me!”
“I have...no manager?” Bokuto said confused, he did not know where any of this was going. But he was glad Akaashi was drunk enough to not question his job, whatever it was. All Akaashi really knew was that Bokuto made good money and that he worked at night.
“And you need a new one, right?” Akaashi glanced over at you, the idea clicking in his head. This was a business opportunity for you, if Bokuto made good money from his job then you becoming his manager would get you good money. He praised his drunk mind.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow at him, moving the ice-pack a little bit up to your collarbone. You looked at your brother to see him pointing at Bokuto.
“Guess what, new job.” Akaashi smiled.
“Huh?” Both you and Bokuto said this at the same time, confusingly looking at a drunk Akaashi.
“It’s perfect! Bokuto needs a new manager, and you,” he waved a finger at your face, “Are very managing and bossy and blah blah. Plus, you need to get more money so you can get the hell out of my house and get one for yourself.”
“Wait-I-I’m not gonna be his manager.”
“She literally cannot be my manager, Akaashi you’re drunk and being stupid, I think it’s a good idea if you shut up-“
“No, no, no, hear me out. My sister can keep her day job and then be your manager at night, she can do both I’m pretty sure. And also you get a new manager! Works out right!”
“I-” Akaashi stood up before you were able to get another word out.
“My genius self will be waiting in the car,” he made his way to the door, “Bokuto I expect you to drive me and my sister home safely!!”
He left you and Bokuto in this random room alone. Both still trying to process whatever Akaashi just said.
You...Bokuto’s manager...the two just did not sound good together. The idea was shit, but at the same time, it almost made sense?
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, get up and let’s go.”
Work started in a few minutes, you were busy tying the back of your apron while your co-worker was handling the cash register.
You worked at this small cafe, squashed in between two other buildings. It was on a busy street, so having many customers was ordinary. Today though, it seemed as if there was barely anybody out. Or maybe people today just preferred to make their drinks at home.
Dez, your co-worker, came panting into the break room where you were at. “I need to use the bathroom, badly. I know your shift starts in five minutes but do you think you could start now?”
“Of course, how many are in line?” Dez shrugged and ran off to the restroom, leaving you scurrying to the cashier. And to your surprise, the first person in line was none other than Bokuto.
“There you are,” he muttered, “I’ve been waiting in line for a while now!”
You frowned at him, wondering how the hell he figured out where you work, and also why he was even here in the first place. “I─︎ Uh...may I take your order?”
Bokuto grinned and pointed at the menu, “I’ll take a large coffee and your favorite thing.”
“A large coffee and your favorite thing off the menu.” He repeated, pulling out a $20 bill and handing it to you.
You looked at him blankly for a few seconds, not really knowing what to do. But after you typed in his order and the one item you always get off the menu, you finished his order. He left without saying anything, Bokuto just went to go sit at a table. Seat for two.
Dez came back from the bathroom and let you go to make some drinks, since usually she was the one who did the cashier.
Making Bokuto’s coffee was very easy, and making your drink was fairly easy as well. You set it down on the counter and called his name, walking away to fulfill the rest of the orders while he got the items.
He spent the rest of your shift just sitting at the table, scrolling on his phone and answering a few calls as well. You weren’t sure what he was doing or why he was staying, but you were just thankful he wasn’t trying to bug you.
Well, he wasn’t planning on bothering you until after your shift.
He had asked your co-worker what time your shift ended, and (un)luckily she told him. So he waited until that time, saving the second item he ordered for you.
“Y/N,” he shouted from the table, you instantly turned your head towards him and cringed. Your apron was already off and you were planning on going to the break room, but seeing that he was gesturing his hand to the seat in front of him, you knew that he wanted a little talk.
You sighed and pulled the seat back, “What do you want?”
Bokuto pushed the drink towards you, “It’s a little melted but I’m sure you won’t mind. Got it just for you.”
Eyeing him suspiciously, you took a seat. “Why are you acting nice?”
“Hm? Oh! No, no, this is my normal self.” He showed a cheeky smile, “Just wanted to talk to you.”
Suddenly his whole expression changed and he looked serious, “You can’t be my manager.”
Did he really expect you to want to become his manager?
You merely just scoffed and sipped on the drink, “I don’t want to anyways. You think I care about any of that boxing cra-”
“Shh! Jeez, you talk so loud.” He rolled his eyes as he shushed you, “Akaashi has been bugging me all morning about it. Apparently he forgot everything that happened last night except his suggestion, and he seems really intent on getting you a job.”
“He just wants me out of the house, huh?” You said, Bokuto surprisingly nodded.
“I can see why though, you’re a real pain in the ass.”
You slapped his arm, “Ow! Hey, I’m an injured man, fragile!” He grunted at you.
“How did you know where I worked?” Akaashi never really told any of his friends about his personal life, let alone you. Bokuto was the only friend of Akaashi’s that really “knew” you.
Bokuto didn’t answer your question, “Can I start boxing again? My body doesn’t hurt as much,”
“It’ll hurt more if you go back, you do know that right?” He was just beating up his body too much, probably without even realizing it.
“I need to go back though,” he told you.
He didn’t really need to go, neither did he want to. Bokuto was glad he was finally getting a little bit of a break. But money was being spent awfully fast, and it would be a matter of time before he was broke again.
“Yes, actually.” Bokuto looked down, even though he could technically go back, it was gonna be harder without a manager to handle everything for him. He didn’t know how to arrange matches by himself, he was completely clueless on how to manage everything behind the scenes. He knew the basic gist of it, though.
“Then go back if you need to, I won’t stop you, just warn you.” Glancing at the clock you saw that you only had a couple minutes left of your break.
“About what?” He saw you stand up, realizing that you needed to get back to work.
“Getting hurt, Bokuto. I don’t like it when my friend’s get hurt that much, Keiji doesn’t either. And you seriously think you can hide what you do from him forever? He’ll find out eventually, especially if you always come over with some sort of new injury.”
Bokuto stared at you, shocked at what you just said. Partly because you were right, Bokuto didn’t want Akaashi knowing about his job because he knew how much he would hate it. And he definitely wouldn’t be able to hide it from him forever, sooner or later he would find out.
And secondly because he didn’t know the two of you were considered “friends” now.
“Friends?” He said, you stopped in your tracks and turned back towards him.
“I meant acquaintances, not friends.”
You settled down in your bed all comfy, fluffing up the pillows behind you.
It was around 1AM now, and you were pretty tired. Work had stressed you out so much that you were nearly jumping from excitement when it ended. You turned off the TV and set the remote on your nightstand, but just before you were going to turn your lamp off someone knocked on your door.
“Keiji?” You said out loud.
“It’s Bokuto, can I come in?”
You were surprised that Bokuto was still awake at this time, but what was even more surprising was why he was knocking on your bedroom door. He decided to stay the night, mostly because he was too lazy to drive back home especially at this time.
“Uh, yeah,” the doorknob twisted and in came Bokuto, his hair all messy and his eyes were a bit droopy. “You okay?”
He closed the door behind him and nodded, “Just couldn’t sleep, so I went to get water but I saw your lights still on.” Bokuto laid on your bed and sighed, “And I’m bored and decided why not talk to you, maybe you’ll make me even more bored and help me fall asleep.”
“I’m not boring,” you pouted, but he just laughed. His voice was rough and he definitely sounded tired, “You’re the boring one.” You said.
“How am I boring? I’ve got a much more eventful life than you,” Bokuto looked at you, “Why are you awake anyways?”
“Couldn’t sleep either, I was just about to fall asleep though until you barged in.”
“I didn’t barge in, I knocked.” He said before snickering, for some reason you felt your stomach… tingle? Like you had just gotten...butterflies in your chest.
He had only just laughed a little and your mind went blank, his laugh wasn’t even that nice. It wasn’t. Why did it feel like you were trying to convince yourself of that?
His hair too… he looked good with messy hair.
What the fuck was going on with you? You shook your head and cleared your thoughts, “I assume Keiji is sleeping right now, which is why you chose to bother me instead of him.”
“Mhm.” He grabbed one of your pillows and placed it under his head, taking in the sweet scent of your shampoo.
You crossed your arms and laid down facing away from him, “Well I’m very tired, so I’m going to sleep.” Right after you said that you felt a pillow hit your head, “Hey!”
“No sleep yet, stay up.” Bokuto swung the pillow at your torso and laughed, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“At least I’m not boring.” He seemed like a whole different person than the one you usually knew, Bokuto was being so playful and not acting like a complete asshole, but honestly he was pretty annoying most of the time. In a way he was also being somewhat nice. You guessed sleep deprivation was the cause for all of this.
“I’m too sleepy to talk about anything.” You yawned, the mattress felt so comfy, so did the blanket over you, and the pillows under your head...how desperately you wanted to sleep.
“Then I’ll do the talking, you just listen, please?”
“What do you wanna talk about?”
Bokuto sat up a little, there were many things he wanted to talk about, but first he had a few questions. “You.”
You glanced over at him, “Hm?”
“Okay, first thing, why have you not snitched on me yet? Like, with my boxing and everything, I still don’t get why you choose to keep it all a secret.”
“There’s no point for me to tell anyone, so I don’t.” You say. It was the truth though, there was no real benefit to telling people about Bokuto’s (possibly illegal) job. Besides, you would probably get in more trouble Keiji found out where you were all those nights.
Bokuto was thankful for your honesty, and also your ability to keep promises so well. But it also made him a bit worried, not for him, for you. He knew that he was a little mean to you. Not the rudest, but unfriendly per say. And he was confused as to why you let him be like that.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized out of the two “friends” he had seen you with, they both were shitty people. The friend who invited you to those boxing matches along with Tanaka, they always left you afterwards not caring about your safety or whatever. Tanaka wasn’t the best person either, Bokuto only knew this because of the things he would say to Bokuto after certain matches.
Especially the matches where Bokuto went up against one of Tanaka’s friends and won.
He realized that even your own brother wasn’t the most protective of you, mostly whenever he hosted parties.
“Why are you friends with such shitty people?” He suddenly asked, genuinely sounding curious.
Your eyes widened at his question, both from shock and also shame. Because it was true. And you knew that.
But you didn’t answer him.
“Seriously though, and you apologize for a lot of things when you don’t need to, it’s stupid y’know-”
“I’m tired.” You groaned, sleepy Bokuto was bitchy.
It seemed as if Bokuto was the only person in your life who actually kinda cared for you, specifically your safety. The times where you were at the boxing arena, the party, he was always there to protect you somehow. Without even knowing.
He was so far, the only person who didn’t treat you like complete shit.
Bokuto’s eye locked onto the owl plushie, it was sitting on the end of your bed nearly about to fall off, he leaned over and grabbed onto it. “Have you named this thing yet?”
You sat up and saw the plush in his hand, “No, not yet.”
“Hm,” the corners of Bokuto’s lips curled upwards into a smile, “Name it after me.”
“What?! Hell no, ’m not gonna do that.”
Bokuto chuckled and held the stuffed owl next to his face, “It kinda looks like me, huh?”
You couldn’t help but laugh as well, it actually did look like him, surprisingly.
“Sure, whatever, it does.”
“Which is why it’s a great idea to name it after me!” The both of you laughed in harmony, then faded into a softer laughter when remembering that your brother was still asleep.
“Fine, but if I agree to name it after you will you finally let me go to sleep?” Bokuto nodded and set the plush down, he was also pretty tired too, but he kinda wanted to stay up a little more to talk to you. “Then there, Bokuto the owl. Goodnight.”
“Night, Y/N.” He watched as you yawned and snuggled back into bed, grabbing the owl along with you and hugging it.
Sunlight peeked through your window as you rubbed your eyes, it was morning now, yet you felt so tired.
Your head flopped back onto the pillows, it definitely was way too early for you to be up. Before you even yawned you felt some movement beside you, and then a little more, and then suddenly there was an arm creeping along your waist.
Bokuto snuggled his face into your back as he wrapped his arm around you, half awake to even realize what he was doing. You on the other hand, were completely aware of what was happening.
The memory of last night washed over you, Bokuto sleepily talking to you and laughing. He must’ve fallen asleep on your bed.
“Bokuto?” Whispering his name, you tried to loosen his grip around you. But when you attempted to peel off his arm, he just hugged you tighter.
He mumbled an incoherent sentence into the pillow, groaning when you tried to get yourself out of bed. “Stay,” you heard him say.
You froze right in place, “I need to get out of bed, Bokuto.”
“No you don’t.”
Did he even know that it was you he was hugging? Did Bokuto even remember falling asleep in your bed?
“Bokuto─︎ let me go, please?” Tugging your body away from him was no use, the more you tried, the more he clung onto you.
“Ugh, just stay for a few more minutes.” He grunted, a bit of sunlight reached his face and he squinted from the exposure of light. The blinds were pretty open, why did you leave them open at night?
You sighed and glanced down at his arm, his hand reaching under your waist to keep your back pressed against his chest. He seemed perfectly comfortable.
Maybe this wasn’t Bokuto though, he would never want to cuddle you at all. Wait...was this considering cuddling? You flinched at the thought. If your brother walked in your room at this moment, the amount of confusion he would be in.
Two slow minutes had passed by and you said Bokuto’s name again, hoping to be free from him, but he just groaned more and complained. “It’s too early, and I’m already comfortable…”
“Bokuto, you do know who you're hugging right?”
This got him awake, his eyes popped open and he immediately recognized his surroundings. Your pillows and sheets, your hair, your voice honestly should’ve been the first thing he recognized. Sleepy Bokuto was a fucking dumbass.
He pulled away from you, gasping when he realized what he was doing. You...he was in your bed...and he was hugging you.
Though, he had to admit, it wasn’t honestly that bad.
“Shit─︎ sorry, fucking hell.” Bokuto rubbed his eyes and sat up, rolling his eyes when he saw you do the same. “I must’ve fallen asleep here last night,”
“Yeah, probably.” You said in a mocking tone, no shit.
“It’s your fault for having a comfy bed, otherwise I wouldn’t have slept here.” He watched as you stepped out of bed, stretching your limbs before standing up to go to the bathroom.
“Just get out, Bokuto. Before my brother sees you and assumes we fucked or whatever.”
And he immediately did, quietly stepping out of your room and heading downstairs. Thankfully Akaashi wasn’t awake yet, he was still soundly asleep in his room. Bokuto got himself a cup of water and began making some breakfast, he decided to make some for you as well, just to be nice.
He couldn’t believe he was in your bed, nor could he believe that he put his arms around you. And the worst part, he enjoyed it. Every second. A small part of his brain surely knew what it was doing, the other part, probably fucking not thinking at all.
He liked the way it felt to hold you, though that sounded a bit weird, he had never held someone like that in a while. Last night was a little fun too, he was glad someone was willing to talk to him for a little bit, even if the conversation was not about much.
Bokuto stopped his thoughts when you came striding down the stairs, wearing an awfully short shirt. Not that it was cropped or anything, the shirt reached right about mid-thigh. If you were wearing shorts underneath, he couldn’t see it.
“You’re making breakfast?” You lifted up your arms a bit to stretch, exposing the bare skin on your thighs. You weren’t wearing shorts.
“Uh─︎ Um, yeah, is y-your brother awake yet?” Bokuto coughed to cover up his stammering, he averted his eyes away from your body as he turned up the stove a little.
“Nope, still asleep. He’ll wake up in a couple minutes, or hours, you never know.” Sitting down on the couch you turned on the TV, letting Bokuto do whatever he wanted in the kitchen.
“Hey, just a question,” he started, once he saw you turn around he cleared his throat and spoke again, “Are you gonna keep going back to that boxing place? That is, if your “friends” invite you again.”
You hadn’t really thought about that, truthfully you didn’t care about that place. Plus Bokuto didn’t want you there, “Probably not, I mean unless I’m super bored then maybe.”
He saw you turn back to the TV, after last night’s talk Bokuto felt like you needed to learn how to defend yourself. In case you were ever in trouble and he wasn’t near you, but he didn’t want to bring you back to that arena.
“Okay, well are you free today?”
You lifted an eyebrow, “Huh?”
Bokuto quickly flipped the eggs in the pan, “Just wondering. If you are, well I was thinking about teaching you some boxing moves.”
Laughing, you faced him and gasped, “Boxing moves? As in, you want to teach me how to box?”
“What has gotten into you? First you’re all, “never come back to this place again!” and “I don’t want you as my manager!” And now you’re offering to teach me boxing...did I accidentally hit you in the head last night?”
Bokuto rolled his eyes, “You need to learn how to defend yourself from creeps and shit, and since I won’t be back in the ring for a while, why not help you out?”
A few seconds passed by before you answered, “1 hour. That’s all the time you have.”
Honestly you did not really know where you were going, Bokuto just told you he was gonna drive you somewhere...and he never said exactly where. At first you thought he was going to take you back to that boxing arena, since he most likely did his training there. But when you saw the car come to a stop in front of a small house, that thought vanished.
“Where are we?” You asked hesitantly, the house was in a quiet area, no one really around. How come you always somehow got yourself into sketchy situations?
“My house, duh.”
Bokuto got out of his car and headed towards the front door, you followed after him, glancing around at the surroundings. His neighborhood was actually pretty nice, it did seem a bit empty though, but maybe people weren’t home.
“Your house?” He pulled the door open and led you inside, “Woah…” His house was...clean? Definitely not what you were expecting at all, there were a few dishes in the sink though, but overall, it wasn’t that messy.
He side eyed you as he walked you to his little training room. The walls were littered with posters, different sized punching bags in every corner, weights all stacked up on a rack, and a place for any of his gear.
“Put on those gloves,” he pointed at a pair of boxing gloves on the floor.
You walked over and picked them up, sliding them easily onto your hands. They did seem more fitted for Bokuto’s hands though.
“We’re just─︎ just gonna start? Like, right away?” Flexing your fingers inside the gloves you saw Bokuto scoff.
“Yeah, what else are we gonna do? Besides, you said I only have an hour, so I’m gonna make sure I don’t waste any of it.”
He gestured to a regular punching bag, it was hanging from the ceiling and appeared to be a bit beaten up. Bokuto curled his fists and striked right in the middle of the bag, sending it swinging back and forth.
“Do that.” He said.
“I─︎” He steadied the punching bag and nodded, “What do you mean do that?” You stepped up in front of it, standing still not knowing what to do.
“Copy me,” Bokuto expected you to do as he said, but you didn’t, instead you just stood there absolutely clueless. “You never learned how to punch, haven’t you?” You shook your head. “Ah, right, well then.”
He showed you how to put your fists up, and then when you did he told you how your stance should be. It took at least two times before you were “properly” in a stance, “Like this?”
“Good enough.” He tilted his head to the side, “Punch.”
You threw a steady punch, sending the punching bag flying back and swinging back towards you. “You’re better than I expected,” you heard Bokuto say. “But go like─︎ extend your arm real quick for me?”
You extended your dominant arm, shocked when Bokuto straightened it and turned your wrist. His touch elicited a sort’ve fire on your skin, or ice, or whatever the hell it was─︎it made you tense.
“When you hit the target, make sure your arm is at least straight, do it.” He backed away a little as you striked the bag once more, hitting it harder than last time. “See? Better.”
He taught you a few more basic moves, and after a couple minutes you were already tired. Your shoulder hurt the most, working your upper body whilst still having a healing bruise was probably not the best idea.
When you hit the bag again, it accidentally went flying towards Bokuto and hit his arm, “You serious?” He said, furrowing his eyebrows at you.
You suppressed a laugh, but then gasped when he pushed the punching bag back at you, chuckling as it hit you.
“Bokuto!” You glared up at him, he did it again, and again, until you were both playfully trying to dodge each other’s attempts at fighting. He laughed as he walked towards you, gently poking your sides.
Using the bulky glove on your left hand you bonked the top of his head, bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Oh, two can play that game.” He sent you into a laughing frenzy as he began chasing you around the room, poking you when he got close enough.
You accidentally stumbled over something on the floor and nearly fell, when you opened your eyes, you were in Bokuto’s arms.
The two of you just stared at each other, your mouth partly open while his lips were trying their best to keep a smile from growing. His arms were hugging your body, keeping you off the floor by a few inches. Bokuto’s hold was...warm. His whole body radiating heat and making your cheeks warm up too...or maybe...your cheeks heated up from the close proximity between him and you.
Chests nearly touching each other, faces awfully close, his hands holding your body tightly. You were too afraid to say anything for some reason and couldn’t muster up enough courage to speak.
Bokuto felt completely flustered. He had never really been this close to you before, never realized how...beautiful you were. The softness of your lips, he could not help but look at them. His eyes could not tear their gaze away from your lips, and you noticed.
“B-Bokuto,” you softly spoke, freezing up when his eyes flicked back up to yours. The warmth in your cheeks was overwhelming.
He said nothing, though. Because he had felt like he had almost forgotten how to speak.
Bokuto’s grasp tightened, “C-Can I kiss you?”
You swallowed and nodded lightly, your brain suddenly going blank when you felt his lips press against yours. The feeling of your whole body just melting in his arms was something you never had felt before, his kiss was gentle.
He couldn’t help but notice how sweet your lips tasted, how comfortable it was to hold you. When he pulled away, his cheeks were a warm vermilion shade.
You carefully stood up, gazing down at the ground not knowing where to look. He still had his arms around, but they had lowered to your waist. Once he realized that he was still holding you, he let go, and backed away.
But for some reason, his arms felt empty now.
“S-Sorry,” you muttered, too flustered to look at him.
Bokuto fumbled with his fingers, not knowing what to say.
You finally looked at him, only to see him momentarily glance away, “You should uh, I─︎ I should get going.”
Couldn’t you maybe stay for a little longer? Bokuto hoped, though he was so confused now. He wanted you to stay. But at the same time, he felt like it would be better if you left so he could compose himself and clear his mind.
And figure out why the hell that kiss was the best kiss he had ever had.
“Right, mhm, I’ll drive you home.” That was a bad idea. Driving you home would only mean being in a tighter space together, the atmosphere would be suffocating.
You realized that, and suddenly─︎ desperately wanted to walk home.
Because you needed to find out why you wanted to kiss him again so badly.
“Keiji will be wondering where I am, and stuff.”
“So─︎ I don’t want him worrying and asking me anything.”
“No, no I get it, yeah.”
He was stalling, wasn’t he?
“Or I can ask my friend to pick me up, either way is fi-”
Bokuto shook his head, “I’ll call Akaashi, tell him that we were talking about you becoming my new manager and such and that he needs to pick you up. He won’t question it, I promise.”
“Okay, um, sounds good.”
You spent the whole next day just pacing back and forth in your room, saying how stupid it was of you to kiss him, how even more stupid it was of you to like it.
Akaashi actually didn’t question anything either, when he picked you up he just rambled on about his own personal life. He never asked why you were at Bokuto’s house. Maybe he just didn’t want to really know the answer to that, even if it wasn’t a bad one.
Bokuto hadn’t come over for at least a day, more like a few hours. Not until you heard the doorbell ring one night and Bokuto’s voice downstairs. Him and your brother hung out for a while before Bokuto decided to head back home. And that’s how it was for the past two weeks, you staying cooped up in your room whenever Bokuto was over.
You even kept your door locked, afraid that he would knock and come in to try and talk to you. He walked past your room a few times, and you saw, but you did nothing.
Practically ghosting him after he kissed you was not the best idea, you realized. It just made you seem like a bitch in a way, truthfully though, you were just utterly terrified of having to face him. Fearful of the fact that you would most likely faint, or burn up again, or be too shaken up to speak that you would run away.
In reality, you were just ultimately afraid to embarrass yourself.
“Y/N!” Keiji shouted from the other side of your door, “Can you please come out now? Bokuto left,” your brother had no clue why you suddenly were avoiding his best friend. He assumed that maybe the two of you had a bad talk when you were at his house, for whatever reason.
“He is?” You climbed out of bed, stretching out your limbs and fixing your hair.
“Mhm, you’ve been in your room all day, at least get something to eat or drink.” Your brother wriggled the locked door knob, “Why is this thing locked? You sneakin’ in boys up here? Hm? Hiding som-”
“Just shut up already, Keiji.” You said to him as you opened the door.
He squinted at you and peered into your room, appearing pleased to see that there were no other humans inside it other than you. “Drink some water, and eat, I ordered some food.”
You pushed passed him and went down the stairs, yawning as you reached the end of it. Going into the kitchen you grabbed a cup of water and easily drank it, going to refill it. Then you opened the freezer and peered into it.
Shocking...your ice cream had gone missing. “Keiji! Where did my ice cream go-”
There he was. The one person you were trying to ignore. The one person who your brother said was gone.
But there he was, hanging his arm loosely around a random girl, his eyes set on you. The girl was touching all over his body, running her fingers over his shirt, tracing his ab lines that peeked through the thin material of his shirt. Bokuto’s lips twitched, a devious smirk teasing them.
You sighed and took the cup of water, pushing the sudden feeling of unwanted jealousy down to your chest, which only made it worse.
“Hey, Y/N, come sit with us for a little.” His stupid voice rang through your ears, you turned to see him waving at the couch closest to him.
“I was actually gonna go back upstairs, need to do something.” The grip you had on the cup tightened as the girl sitting beside him looked at you. Her lips swollen, obviously from most likely making-out with him. This jealousy shit was getting fucking irritating.
“Ah, c’mon. You can’t hangout for even a minute?” Bokuto finally showed a smirk, “Just wanna introduce you to my friend here.” He never took his gaze off you as he quickly kissed the girl on the cheek. You were flaming up.
Taking a step on the first stair, you shook your head and scowled, “No actually, I’m busy. I have friends too, y’know?”
“Right, right, ah well. Too bad though, I’m sure you and my little lady would’ve gotten along.”
You stormed up to your room angry. Once again pacing back and forth, questioning yourself entirely on why you were feeling this way. Jealous. Nervous.
Why for some reason, you wished you were that girl beside him instead.
Being petty was something you rarely thought about, mainly because you never felt like there was a need to.
But Bokuto had just gotten you so stressed out that you decided it would be fine to maybe be a little petty, just a little.
Your brother was inviting some of his friends to the beach, which of course included Bokuto, and he was most likely going to invite that girl as well. At first when Keiji had asked you to come, you declined. There would be no one you could talk to and it would honestly just be awkward.
And then Sugawara called you.
That’s when the idea popped up in your head. Now, you knew it was pretty silly of you to do this...but why not?
You were stuffing two towels into a duffel bag while Sugawara laid on your bed, talking about random things to you. He was excited when you had invited him to go with you, saying that it had been a while since he had gone to the beach. You also invited Tanaka and your friend, but they said they would meet you there at the beach.
“Make sure to pack my extra clothes, oh and yours too.” He reminded you.
“They’re in here already, I’m pretty sure we’re all set.”
There was suddenly a knock at the door, causing the both of you to turn your heads. “Is it your brother?”
You shrugged and began walking towards the door, “Maybe.” Expecting to see Keiji, you opened the door and gasped, it was none other than Bokuto.
“Hey,” he said grumpily, “Need to ask for a favor.” Bokuto strided inside your room, “Do you think you can-”
“Hi! You’re Bokuto, right?” Suga waved from your bed, he had a friendly smile on his face as he sat up to greet Bokuto.
Bokuto had to ball up his fists inside his pockets to hide his frustration, why was he here? Why was this guy on your bed, too? And why the hell was he shirtless?
He faced you and groaned, “Nevermind.”
Before he could leave Suga shouted out his name, standing up to pick up the duffel bag, “Ah, I can bring this down to the car now Y/N,” Then he just left.
Leaving you in your room alone with an obviously angsty Bokuto.
It was silent for a few seconds. Not a word said as the two of you stared at the ground.
“You invited him?” Bokuto scowled, “You have to be kidding.”
“Is there a problem with me inviting someone?” Judging from his obvious facial expressions (that he was clearly having a hard time hiding) you could tell he did have a problem with it. Bokuto looked jealous. Just as you hoped.
“Y─︎No. No, there’s not.”
“Okay then,” you scoffed and went to put on your shoes.
“I─︎I need you to cover up my bruises.”
Your eyes widened and you stopped what you were doing.
“With that makeup shit you have, I dunno. I just don’t want anyone to see them and ask me shit.” Bokuto sat on your bed and winced, wondering if you and Suga had done anything beforehand.
You looked over at him, debating whether or not you should do it.
“Fine.” You weren’t mean, no, and you understood why he wanted to cover up any of his bruises. So you would just do it quickly, slap some concealer on and then tell him to leave.
Grabbing some of your makeup, you tossed them onto the bed and then laid them out. Bokuto tugged off his shirt, hoping to see some kind of response or expression on your face when he did, but you seemed like you didn’t care.
You began to cover up a bruise, blending the concealer out and reapplying until the bruise was no longer there. Then you continued to do this, trying your best not to touch him too much.
“What’s that?” He asked many times, pulling his head back whenever you had an item in your hand. You always responded and explained what it was, and what it would do. Apparently this thing called ‘concealer’ was the miracle shit, the thing that would help cover up all the bruises that would be visible.
It felt a little weird at first when you applied it on him, Bokuto didn’t like the way it felt. But as soon as you began blending it out, he glanced in the mirror and gasped when the bruise slowly started to disappear.
Your hands were cold against his skin, you ran your fingers over the half-way covered bruised and nodded, “I’m almost done here, just make sure to not really get wet or anything.”
He surprisingly didn’t flinch at your touch, instead he unconsciously leaned into it, feeling his skin light up whenever he felt your finger graze over his torso. It was odd, and once he had realized what he was doing you had already moved onto another one of his bruises.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. You covered him up while he just watched and examined everything, gaping in awe at the mirror when his injuries began to go away.
Arriving at the beach you immediately saw your friend laying down on a towel, soaking up the sun while Tanaka drank a beer. They spotted you and called you over, Suga greeted them before going to help out Keiji bring out the coolers and some other things.
Bokuto saw Tanaka and wanted to scream. Him. You had to invite him as well. And his stupid little girlfriend. The two people who had left you in that dangerous place, expecting you to just drive home yourself or something.
God, how dumb were you?
He stayed close by as you spoke with them, doing his best to ignore Sugawara mindlessly flirting with you, and laughing when you didn’t notice. Bokuto smiled at your clueless face, but whenever he felt or heard the girl next to him, that smile instantly vanished.
She was just a replacement, and she knew that. He didn’t get why she let him use her, she saw the way Bokuto watched over you. “Go and talk to her, you just look like a creep.”
He chose to ignore her as well.
Bokuto just sat in a chair, letting his friends and Akaashi have their fun while he gazed at you. Curiously trying to listen to your conversation, make sure none of them said anything mean to you or rude. Around people like Tanaka, Bokuto had this sudden urge to want to protect you.
Maybe he was even starting to fall for you.
Because the more he admired you, the more he realized how much he wanted you. That time when he had caught you before you were able to fall, and that kiss...it was a moment he desperately missed.
Bokuto rubbed his eyes, he couldn’t fall for you. He shouldn’t.
He just thought you were pretty, that’s all, right? I mean it really meant nothing, everyone must’ve found you pretty. ‘Cause you were.
“Y/N, you should stay away from that Bokuto guy.” His ears perked up at the sound of his name, bitterly coming out of Tanaka’s mouth.
“Hm?” You had said, crossing your arms over your body as a gust of wind came your way.
“He’s not the best, guy boxes for a living, he’s dangerous too. You should know that.” Tanaka took a swig of beer before continuing, “Saw him beating up a guy last week, nearly killed ‘em.”
“Really?” You quickly glanced at Bokuto, seeing him look away when you did.
Tanaka began explaining to you what happened, and what the guy had looked like. His description of the dude oddly reminded you of the dude who harassed you at Keiji’s party.
“Oh, well thanks for letting me know.” You muttered, suddenly feeling awkward.
“You asshole,” Bokuto stood up and headed over to where you were, calming himself down as he glowered at Tanaka. “I need to talk to her, steal her for a moment. Do you mind?”
Bokuto extended his hand down at you, restraining himself from balling it up into a fist and punching Tanaka. And maybe Sugawara too.
You hesitated for a bit, looking at Bokuto’s hand and his angered face. “Can’t you just talk to me here? I doubt it’s that importan-”
He grabbed your hand and pulled you up, yanking you away from everyone. “Bokuto─︎ Why did you do that?” You wiggled your fingers in his grip. He had pulled you far enough from everyone that you could barely see them.
“I’m taking you home,” his keys magically appeared in his hands, “We are gonna have a talk on the way there.”
“You brought your car?” You thought he drove with Keiji or another one of his friends, but obviously that wasn't true when you suddenly spotted his car.
“Y’know you ask a lot of questions, it gets irritating.” Bokuto dragged you to his car and opened the passenger door, waiting for you to get in. Once you did he slammed it shut, rushing his way to the driver's seat.
“Won’t they wonder where I am?” You felt bad leaving Sugawara with them, he barely knew your friends neither did he know your brother that well. It would probably be awkward on the way home for him.
Bokuto started up the car as soon as you put on your seatbelt, driving so fast that you were all of sudden in front of your house. Someone was a bit angry.
He got out and slammed his door, walking around the car to open your door. “Out of all the people, you had to invite them? Tanaka? Him too?” You shuddered at the tone in his voice, “They don’t even like you.”
You flinched, displeased at his words. “What makes you think they like you?”
All he did was laugh at you, “I know they don’t like me, I’m not fucking stupid, unlike you. You still hang around them even though they treat you like complete shit─︎you don’t deserve it.” He said that last bit under his breath, hoping you didn’t hear it.
“I seriously don’t get you Bokuto, one minute you’re kissing on some random girl and the next you’re telling me I need better friends. Why do you care for me all of sudden? I didn’t think-”
“Can I not care?” Bokuto stalked towards you, when he realized how tight his fists were he groaned, unraveling them and flexing his fingers. “Her lips felt nothing like yours, and I’ve kissed her more than you.”
“You were ignoring me, what did you expect me to do?” He was so frustrated with you, why were you acting like this? When you were the one who chose to ignore him? You couldn’t blame him for feeling this way, “If the kiss was that bad you should’ve told me, but you said nothing.”
“I-I didn’t know what to do! I was nervous, Bokuto.” You felt your back press up against a wall, body tense and stiff, you gulped as Bokuto inched nearer to you.
“So was I. I was even more nervous when you wouldn’t come out of your room. When you wouldn’t talk to me.” Even when he knocked, expecting you to maybe open it and ask what he wanted. You telling him to go away would’ve been fine as well.
He had never kissed a girl and felt so─︎affected, so goddamn affected by it. And when you ignored him afterwards, it only just affected him more than he ever thought it would.
“I didn’t know what to say,”
“Well you could’ve said something, at least.” Bokuto had both of his palms pressed against the wall on either side of your head, his body was close, closer than last time.
“I wanted to kiss you again. I still do.”
It felt like someone had just vacuumed all the air out of your lungs, out of your whole body.
“Then do it.”
“Fuck,” one of his large hands rested against your jaw, tilting it just a bit before his lips met with yours. This kiss felt nothing like the first one, in fact, this was anything but gentle.
A mellow whimper left your mouth as his tongue pressed between your lips, entering the warm cavern of your mouth. His hands slowly dropped down the sides of your body, finding place onto your hips, squeezing and rubbing at the area as he continued to elicit sighs and gasps from you.
When you parted, his face was flushed, all the way up to the tip of his ears. Your hand grabbed at his shirt, “Kou- more,” you pleaded with glassy eyes.
He said nothing more as you two rushed up the stairs, quickly entering your room and locking the door behind you. You fell back onto the bed, he toppled over after you, catching himself on his hands.
His large frame caged you in. You locked wrapped your legs around his torso, attempting to bring him closer. “So impatient, hm,” he teased. He sat back onto his legs, breaking your legs apart from each other.
You watched as his eyes glazed over your form, the way your chest rose and sank with each heavy breath. His hand came to rest on your pelvis, his thumb dangerously close to your heat. You swallow as you watch his thumb lower down onto your swollen clit. His owl-like eyes observing every little twitch of your legs, every time your eyebrows slightly crinkled, and every time your breath hitched.
He loved every second of it.
He rubbed smooth circles into the bud, listening to the way your wetness sounded through the fabric of your clothes. “You’re teasing me,” you complained.
“No ‘m not, just need to make sure-”
“Please, I just need you.. So bad,” you turned your head in embarrassment. He let a laugh escape as he made quick of your bottoms, throwing them somewhere on the floor.
You felt your face warm up as he stared so intently at your cunt. He sat up to take his own pants off, his cock slapping against his stomach almost immediately. You felt your head get lighter at the sight of him. It was mouth watering, the girth bigger than anything you’ve felt, and the length definitely longer than your fingers.
He leaned back over you, his hand on his dick as he guided it to your entrance. “Are you ready?”
“Of course, I am. You act like-'' All your words cut short as the tip of his cock began to press into you. Your cunt stretching wide─︎ too wide─︎ to allow his cock to fit into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as he continued to push in.
“Oh─︎ fuck, fuckk,” you squirmed against him, borderline crying as he bottomed out inside you. Your walls twitching around him, still attempting to get used to his size.
“You’re so tight, Jesus,” he dipped onto you, kissing and nipping at your neck. Allowing you the time to get comfortable. He sucked at your shoulder, anywhere that he had access to. Unknowingly, one of his hands had begun to massage your breast. Kneading the soft flesh, nimble fingers flicking the perked buds.
Your body relaxed against him, “Please move, Kou,” your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards you. He rested on his elbows as he began to grind his hips into you at a slow, sensual pace. You could feel every vein that protruded from his cock, every throb, every time the head of his dick bumped into your cervix.
You whined into his neck as the pace slowly got faster, but not too fast. It was a steady pace, his hand rested on your chest as some sort of leverage. “Aah─︎ feels so so good─︎” you whine.
“Y/N, holy shit,” he grunted into your ear, your cunt clenched involuntarily at his voice. Your eyes squeezed shut as his dick scraped against the spot that had you nearly screaming. His hands reached between your heated bodies, finding your swollen, wet clit once again. He rubbed at the bud as he sank his cock into you over and over again.
Causing the sweetest moans and words of pleads to come out of your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna come, where should…”
“Inside, please- God-”
“Are you sure-”
“Yes!” your nails dug into his back as he drove you closer to your orgasm. “Kou- I’m gonna-”
Bokuto shut you up with another kiss, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pumped himself once, twice, and another final time before his hips pressed against your ass. You nearly choked him with your arms as you came around his cock, trembling legs struggling to stay around him.
He groaned as he pulled away, leaving you empty. His head went lax against your shoulder as he came all over your stomach. “Christ…” his voice was hoarse.
Your arms fell back onto your sides, legs finally relaxing against the sheets. Soft sighs left your mouth at your post-orgasmic state. Bokuto inhaled as he sat up, reaching over to your bedside table for a tissue, wiping away at the mess he made.
Laying still on the bed, you began to feel the cold air around you cool your skin. The both of you stayed quiet while cleaning up, and surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward.
But it hadn’t hit you yet...what you had just did.
Not until Bokuto began tugging on his shirt, “No one has to know about us,” he said, “I know how your friends feel about me. I don’t expect their opinion to change either.” With his back facing you, Bokuto ran a hand through his head and sighed.
What did he mean by us?
“We─︎we aren’t dating though, none of them know─︎”
“Sugawara thinks we are. I can’t really see how he thinks that, but he does. And he doesn’t like me.” Bokuto explained, “Your co-worker too, shockingly...when I asked if you were working she looked at me like I was some weirdo, even when I told her I was Akaashi’s friend.”
Your fingers dug into the soft duvet beneath you, Bokuto still didn’t look at you as he put his pants on.
“Tanaka hates me, though I doubt the two of you are really friends. And his little girlfriend he got─︎” he scoffed, “She fucking hates me.”
You glared at Bokuto, wondering why he even cared about what your friends thought about him. Again, you guys weren’t dating. He never showed public affection towards you─︎there was no reason for him too, anyways. And he didn’t have feelings for you, at least not romantically.
“Are you going to leave...now?” Your words came out as a whisper, pulling the sheets over your body to try and warm up.
Bokuto finally faced you, “Well last time we did something, you ignored me. I was expecting you to do it again.”
You shook your head, “I won’t, I wasn’t thinking properly at the time.” Truthfully, it seemed like even now you still weren’t thinking properly.
“So, you’re asking me to stay?”
He looked at you unexpectedly, feeling happy you actually wanted him to be with you. To stay in your room after...whatever the hell you guys just did. He was glad you didn’t seem that embarrassed, or at least you didn’t show that you were.
Bokuto smiled and crawled into bed next to you, propping a pillow under his head before he yawned. “When I wake up, I’m hoping you’re still next to me.”
You saw your shirt tossed on the ground beside your bed and picked it up, “I’ll still be here.” Bokuto hummed in response and sank into your bed.
Looking at the blinds, you realized it was beginning to get dark and Keiji hadn’t come home with his friends yet. Your phone hadn’t rung either, indicating that none of them texted or called you to ask what happened.
Bokuto’s words resonated in your head, “They don’t even like you.”
As you fell back onto the bed, cuddling up the blankets tighter, the realization finally hit you of what just happened. You and Bokuto. Abruptly just...fucking. Out of nowhere. Shit, you would have to come up with excuses in the morning for sure. Prepare for the intense questioning you were gonna get by your brother, and possibly Suga as well...maybe even Tanaka.
“What did we just do?” You asked Bokuto, though in reality, you were mainly asking yourself.
When you didn’t hear Bokuto respond, you glanced over at him and sighed—he was asleep.
Morning came by fast, the sun reaching through the small cracks in your blinds and flooding your bedroom.
The house was still silent, apart from the sound of Bokuto’s soft breathing and your yawn. The both of you were still alone.
You rubbed your eyes, taking a glance at the time to see it was already around noon. “Holy shit─︎” You had work in about 30 minutes.
Getting up out of bed, you rushed to the bathroom, rinsing your face before taking a brisk shower. You did some basic hygiene before rushing back into the bedroom, finding Bokuto awake.
“I thought you said, “I’ll still be here” last night?” He groaned, ruffling his fingers through his bedhead.
“I did, but I did not expect to wake up at 12PM, Bokuto.” You hurriedly tossed on some clothes and slid on your sneakers. “My work starts in─︎” glancing at the clock, you only had about 15 minutes left before you needed to leave. “Soon!”
Bokuto laid in your bed, holding the sheets close to his body while you frantically got ready for work. It was kinda funny to him, seeing you so panicked.
“I’m going back,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him, “To the arena, just wanted to tell you.”
“Oh, but your injuries are still bad, are you sure?” Bokuto nodded, he felt fine enough. Besides, you would be there to patch him up─︎hopefully.
“I need money, can’t keep living off Akaashi.” He chuckled lowly, being reminded of how generous your brother was with his money.
You got your phone and wallet, 10 minutes. “But I thought─︎don’t you need a manager for it? Your last one…”
Bokuto sat up and huffed, “I actually-” he was struggling to get the words out of his mouth, purely from anxiety on what your answer could be. “I want you to uh, be my manager.”
You nearly dropped your phone, “Bokut- I can’t─︎I wouldn’t be able to.”
Of course he got the answer he was desperately trying not to get.
“Why not? You would only need to really work at night, you don’t even need to go to any of my matches if you didn’t want to.” Bokuto felt a bit embarrassed. “I just thought y’know, you’d be good at it.”
“And I thought you didn’t want me to go back to that place, Bokuto.”
Shit. You were right. He said that before...probably multiple times as well. But people can change their minds, he changed his. And when he thought about the idea of you becoming his new manager, he made sure it would be reasonable and safe─︎ especially safe.
He would make sure you were around one of his friends, people he trusted and knew trusted him. They could keep you safe from all the creeps everywhere and also from any danger that crawled your way. He also would let you get a bigger portion of his earnings, not that it was necessary, but he remembered how you wanted to move out. Giving you more money would be beneficial.
And he knew he would win the matches if you were there, motivation, you would be his motivation.
“I planned it all out, don’t worry. You’ll even have security guards.” That wasn’t a joke, his friends knew how to box as well, so technically they were security guards. “And Akaashi wouldn’t know either, he won’t ask.”
You thought about it, thoroughly. And honestly, the idea didn’t really seem that bad. You would definitely be able to get more money and save up for an apartment, and the job was at night, so you could still work your day job. Which you actually needed to leave for right this instant.
“Fine, sure, but I gotta get to work so I’ll see you later?” Bokuto nodded as you ran out the house.
You didn’t know “later” meant Bokuto coming to your work an hour after you left, he smiled at you as he stood in line. Groaning, you couldn’t really do much, as you had a stack load of orders coming in every second. Today was a particularly busy day.
He ordered the same thing as last time, plus a few other pastries that he planned to eat while he waited for your shift to end.
During your break he wanted to talk to you, explain the rules of being his manager and the things you would be required to do and know. It honestly wasn’t much, just an explanation on how to do everything, probably take a few minutes if you listened.
Bokuto sipped on his coffee as he sat in the corner, scrolling on his phone waiting for you.
“Excuse me, Bokuto,” an oddly recognizable voice rang in his ears.
When Bokuto looked up, he nearly split his drink. “Ushijima?”
He pulled the extra seat out and sat down, propping his folded hands on the table. “Haven’t seen you box in a while, what’s that about?”
“Needed a break.” Bokuto glanced over at you, you were distracted enough to not notice Ushijima’s presence in the cafe. “Why are you here?”
“Wanted coffee, why else?”
You looked at the screen displaying all the orders you needed to do, eyeing a name you swore you’d seen before. “U-Ushiji-” Your eyes went wide at the realization.
Just as you turned around to look through the crowd of people in the shop, you spotted Bokuto sitting in the corner accompanied by another figure. One that had been in the ring with Bokuto before.
“So then go wait for your order, I don’t see why you had the nerve to come and talk to me.” Bokuto scolded, he felt his fists curl up when Ushijima laughed.
“Bokuto, don’t be so salty. I beat you, ‘the champion.’ But that doesn’t mean it hurt your reputation,” Ushijima said briefly. “And somehow I was able to knock you down, rookie verses champion.”
If there weren't this many people here right now, Bokuto would lean over and punch the living shit out of this asshole.
“I can tell you’re still angry at that though, aren’t you?”
Bokuto gulped, a scowl etched into his face, Ushijima was right. Bokuto was fucking enraged at the result of his previous two matches. When he could’ve easily won them, he ended up losing.
“Ah, don’t respond, it’s fine.” Ushijima laughed once more before leaning into the chair, “We can have a rematch, if that’s what might ease your stress.”
“Rematch?” Bokuto had never had a rematch against any of his past opponents, mainly because whenever he suggested they could, they all wimped out and declined.
But now he was the one getting offered a rematch, and even though he wanted more time to think about it...saying that to Ushijima just sounded stupid.
“Yup, you can schedule it anytime. And we can fight again. Let all your anger out.” He added, Ushijima could see Bokuto considering his idea, it made him glad. Tanaka was right, Bokuto had a strong pride when it came to boxing, specifically his title as champion. He would even do a rematch if it meant gaining a better reputation.
Bokuto scoffed, was this guy really willing to box again?
Nonetheless, Bokuto agreed.
“Good,” Ushijima heard his order getting called out, “Just have your manager talk with mine. I’m sure it will be a great fight, even if you lose again.”
Your shift had ended and you rushed over to Bokuto, instantly asking him what Ushijima was talking to you about.
“I’ll tell you after I explain your new job, it’s more important than what that bastard said.” Bokuto leaned forward on the table as you sat down, grabbing one of the pastries he ordered for you and stuffing it in your mouth. Thankfully your break was a bit longer today, the customers had died down and it wasn’t as busy, so your co-worker said she could handle it by herself for a while.
“I doubt there’s a lot I need to know about becoming your manager, shit seems easy.”
You were completely wrong about that. Bokuto spent about 15 minutes telling you about the basics, the stuff you would be in charge of handling; planning out his matches and taking care of any money that Bokuto got from bets, as well as writing things down that he did in a match that needed some improvement.
You would also need to do some research on the opponents he would be going up against, so that he knew what he should focus on and their fighting habits.
“Is-is that all?”
Bokuto snickered, “Nope.”
He then went on to explain everything else you needed to know; the layout of the whole arena and where you would be going, the people you would be talking to and the owners of the whole underground arena. He told you about the dangerous stuff too, warning you to stay away from basically everyone whom he didn’t approve of. And creeps.
“That’s important, stay away from creeps. If some drunk guy comes up to you and tries anything, you either call me over or tell Konoha or Washio.” Bokuto sternly said.
“Who is Konoha? And who’s Washio?”
Bokuto leaned back and folded his arms behind his head, “Your two personal bodyguards.”
“Bodyguards? Bokuto, you fucking got me bodyguards?” You were shocked to say the least, he was literally throwing all this information at you and now bodyguards?
“Of course, I won’t be able to protect you while I’m fighting.” He said, “They’re good friends of mine, and they know how to fight so you’ll be fine.”
“Right, makes total sense.”
“So, you think you can remember all of that?” Bokuto asked, smirking as your eyebrows furrowed together, you looked like you were trying to piece all the information in your head and shove it into your memory.
“I think, though I’m sure I’ll ask you to remind me of some things in the future.” It had been around 30 minutes, and you definitely needed to get back to work.
“That’s alright. Also, um...question for you.”
You glanced at him and nodded, “Do you think you’ll be able to start today?”
Now he was doing a bit too much. He should at least give you a few hours─︎ days even─︎ to let you memorize everything and prepare, but here he was, throwing you right into the job while you were at your regular job.
“You asked what Ushijima was talking to me about, and he wants a rematch, and since you’re officially now my manager…”
“Seriously?” The cafe was starting to get busy again, and you heard your co-worker call your name.
Bokuto heard it too, and gestured for you to go, “I’ll give you his manager’s number, you need to talk to them about it and plan out the date.”
“Alright, are you-”
Your co-worker groaned in frustration, yelling out your name for the third time, “Get your ass over here!”
Bokuto had driven you back to his place, he wanted to show you how he trained and also remind you of your new duties as manager. He also partly just wanted to spend time with you.
You entered into his home, scanning your eyes around the place to see it was completely spotless. It smelled pretty good too.
“How long do you usually train for?” As you walked about the house, you were able to get a much better look at it than last time you were here. Last time.
He had two rooms, one was his training room and the other was his bedroom. He only had one bathroom though, which was in the hallway. Bokuto’s house was small, but quite cozy.
“Depends on who I’m fighting, but around 4-5 hours a day─︎ if not more.” He said, pulling back towards the training room. “While I’m training I want you to remember all of the things you need to do as my manager, I expect you called Ushijima’s manager last night.”
“I-oh shit…” you paused, clutching your phone that was safely in your pocket, along with the number Bokuto had given you yesterday.
“Already failing the job, I see.” He opened a water bottle and began to drink some, hydrating himself before stretching.
“I’ll call them today, don’t worry.” There was a yoga mat on the floor that you could sit on, “Maybe later though, after I leave.”
Bokuto stretched out his limbs before putting on his boxing gloves, “Alright then, in the meantime, you should try to recite the things I mentioned to you yesterday. Hopefully you can do math.”
As Bokuto is the punching bag in front of him, you jotted down important information that he had told you the day before. Organizing matches and needing to communicate with the opponents managers, organizing bet money that was placed on Bokuto, having to watch the matches close enough to see if he made any mistakes─︎ there was a lot of stuff that needed your brain.
And a shit ton of organizing.
On your phone, you made sure to dial in the number given to you, ready to make the call as soon as Bokuto finished.
Bokuto worked himself out until he was tired, mostly until he was bored of doing the same combinations and same routine he did everyday. What bore him even more was your lack of attention to him, the only matches you ever saw him do...he lost those.
You never saw any of his actual skills.
“This will be the first match you’ll see me win,” he said out of nowhere, stepping away from the punching bag to catch his breath. When you looked up you saw his whole body glimmering with sweat; his hair clinging onto his damp forehead as he gulped down water.
“Or the third match I’ll see you lose, you never know.” You replied back, a smug look grew on his face.
“I got my champion title for a reason, Y/N, obviously.”
“And obviously lately, you’ve been lacking.”
“Who says I haven’t been fighting recently?”
Bokuto grinned at you, being reminded of the satisfaction of beating up that guy from the party. The adrenaline that rushed through his veins when he saw the same guy heading to the bar, probably going to meet up with friends. He instantly remembered his face and headed straight for him, giving no second thought as he socked the guy in the nose. And his chest. And he might’ve kicked his legs too. And cursed at him.
“But didn’t I tell you not to get hurt?”
“I told you that you needed to heal up, and you shouldn’t box for a while.” You frowned at him, though you were also quite certain that most of his cuts would’ve healed up by now─︎ possibly some of his bruises as well.
He was just gazing at you, barely breathing without noticing, “Stop staring at me.” You interrupted his foggy thoughts. Before Bokuto spoke he went to go put his gloves away.
“Oh, yeah sorry. But it has been a while, I haven’t been in matches or anything like that, just...little fights here and there.” Bokuto smirked, inching closer to you, “I got myself a girl that patched me up pretty well, so it didn’t take that long for me to get better.”
As you were sitting on the floor Bokuto leaned down on one knee, his body caging you.
“I’m not your girl.” You informed him, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness when Bokuto’s eyes scanned your timid body.
“Is that right?”
You nodded slowly, gulping when one of his fingers curled underneath your chin, picking your face up gently to meet his.
Bokuto chuckled at your surprised expression.
“Not yet, at least.” He got up without another word and went to dry off his face and neck.
This room is cursed, that was the only thing you could think of as you stood up, leaving to go to the bathroom.
When you came out you saw Bokuto in his kitchen, scooping some type of protein powder into a cup and shaking.
“I was thinking,” he began, “y’know how you’re gonna be with me for most nights now? Since I work at night and stuff?”
“Yes, what about it.” You sat on the couch, confusingly looking at him.
“Won’t it be better if...if you just stayed here?”
“No.” Was the immediate answer that came out of your mouth, it was also the answer that made Bokuto’s head instantly twist towards you.
“Why not?” He asked, setting down his watery protein milkshake on the counter.
You leaned back on the couch and rolled your eyes, “A number of reasons, Bokuto. Firstly, it would just be weird and all. And I don’t think Keiji would quite like the idea of his little sister sleeping at his best friend’s house.”
“Uh well, firstly, I doubt he would care. He wants you out of the house anyways, remember?”
Dammit, he made a good point there.
There was no hiding the frown on your lips as you continued, “It’s gonna be too much work to move some of my stuff here, and you only have one bed.”
Bokuto smirked, “You act like we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”
It made sense for you to move in with him. With your new job with him too, you and him would need to be together most nights and it would just be too late for you to drive home.
“What if I get in trouble?”
He laughed at you, “For what?”
You were itching the back of your neck, afraid at the idea of getting caught by the law handling bet money that was dealing with illegal underground boxing. “Isn’t your job like...not legal?”
“Ah, I’m surprised you’re worried about that now.” He walked over to you and sat down, taking your two hands in his and sighing, a soft and somewhat sympathetic look on his face, “Nope. Not at all legal in any way.” Bokuto bursted out laughing.
“Bokuto!” You pouted, pulling your hands away from him and crossing your arms over your chest.
“But! I haven’t gotten in trouble yet, so I am positive you won’t either─︎ anytime soon, that is.”
“That doesn’t seem promising.” He merely just waved a hand at you, rolling his eyes.
“So you don’t have any more objections to moving in with me, other than you think Akaashi wouldn’t like it- even though he has been wanting to kick you out for the longest time. You’re too lazy to move all your stuff here, and also even though you already agreed to be my manager you’re afraid of getting in trouble with the law.” Bokuto explained.
Him saying it out loud just made all your three reasons sound absolutely stupid.
You said nothing in return.
“Exactly what I thought,” he smirked, “We can start moving your stuff in by tomorrow.”
“I need to tell-”
“Akaashi already knows, told ‘m beforehand.”
During the past few weeks, you moved in with Bokuto. Keiji was ecstatic about it, he was finally happy to have the house to himself and host as many parties as he could─︎ and fuck as many people as he could without the worry of you hearing, he was very happy about that.
Bokuto was also pretty excited about the whole thing, he cleared out some space in his closet for your clothes and also bought some new sheets, you hated the ones he had. He let you get comfortable the first couple days, and the both of you spent countless sleepless nights just talking about random things and rambling to each other.
It helped you guys get to know each other─︎ it helped Bokuto realize how much he really did like you as well.
Moving you in was a great idea, Bokuto was happy, and you seemed happy too.
You had called Ushijima’s manager a few weeks ago, and they scheduled the date for the match.
Which was today.
For the past couple days, nearing closer to the match, Bokuto trained himself until he couldn’t even lift his arm up. He was strict on himself, wanting to desperately win. You let him do what he wanted, seeming as though all your complaints about it just didn’t matter to him.
Bokuto opened the door for you, guiding you out of his car. The familiar smell of alcohol and sweat wafted through the thick air around you, “Hold my hand.”
“W-What?” He motioned his head towards your hands, waiting patiently for you to hold his.
“Well I don’t want you to go missing in that place, duh.” Bokuto also just lowkey wanted to hold your hand.
You gulped as your fingers interlaced within each other, his grip awfully tight as he led the way. And you couldn’t help but feel the warmth creeping into your cheeks.
“If anyone tries to talk to you, ignore them. If anyone tries to touch you, call out for Konoha or Washio. If Ushjima-”
“Blah blah blah, stay by Kono-something and that other guy, ignore everyone and only focus on you.” You scowled, suddenly realizing that the way you two were going was a totally different way than before. The two guards weren’t in front of this door Bokuto was opening, he took a key out and twisted the doorknob, revealing a lit up hallway.
Now you remembered being here before. Bokuto brought you inside a room, the one where you recalled fixing up his wounds as he slouched on the chair.
“There you guys are,” a voice said from the corner, when you turned you saw two men sitting on the couch, both gazing at you. “Ah, told you! She is hot, can’t believe you thought Bokuto was lying about tha-”
“Shut up…” Konoha nudged the guy next to him, you assumed he was Washio.
“These are your bodyguards, whom I’m hoping won’t be assholes, right?” Bokuto glared at them as they nodded.
Bokuto warmed up while Konoha and Washio got to know you─︎ well, they really were just bugging you but same thing. They seemed pretty excited to be with you, and very serious about their new job.
Then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” the door opened and in came in...Tanaka?
He kept a sharp look on his face as he grinned at Bokuto, “You seem happy to be back, I bet you’re impatient for this match to start.”
Bokuto grunted and rolled his eyes, not bothering to reply.
“Where’s that new manager of yours?” Tanaka said with a smirk, lifting his head up to look around the room.
Stopping when his eyes met yours.
You immediately saw a displeased expression form on his face, his lips setting into a deep frown.
“Her?” He snarled, you nearly winced at his tone. Washio straightened his back, so did Konoha.
But Tanaka just stormed out of the room without another word.
“What was that about?” You peered up at the two guys, then at Bokuto, who merely just scoffed at you.
“I told you he doesn’t like you, that’s all really.”
It was almost time for Bokuto’s match to start, and he was fucking pumped.
He was in the hallway listening to the sound of the crowd, all their voices combined were loud enough to shake the walls. Bokuto heard Ushijima being introduced, then a mix of cheers and boos.
You were still in the room, finishing up counting all the bet money people placed on Bokuto. Washio and Konoha stood on either side of you, patiently and quietly waiting for you to finish.
Bokuto cracked his neck, loosening up his tense limbs as he waited in the hallway. You finally came out of the room and smiled up at him, “You ready?”
He nodded. He would win this. Bokuto knew he would. And he was going to do his best to win this, even if it meant getting punched until his body couldn’t take it anymore.
“You’ll be watching, right?” He had made sure they saved a seat for you in the front row, closest to the ring so you would be able to see him clearly─︎ and also be able to see how good of a boxer he was, nothing wrong with wanting to show off. He also made sure the two seats on either side of you would seat his friends, for protection of course.
“I’ll be right there, don’t worry.” You heard his name being called up and grinned, kissing him on his cheek. “Good luck.”
Your kiss felt like a superhero powerup. He ran into the ring all giddy and excited, pumped up and ready to beat Ushijima’s ass.
This time, he wouldn’t be weak.
You were guided to your seat, seeing Konoha and Washio already sitting besides you. They gave you a soft smile before fixating their gaze on Bokuto, sternly looking at him and mentally rooting for him to win. You did the same.
Bokuto and Ushijima briefly shook hands, exchanging scowls at each other before getting into their stances.
The bell rang and the match had begun.
For this round, Bokuto’s plan was to try and get Ushijima as tired and worn out as he could, all while avoiding any punches or swings Ushijima did. Just as he expected Ushijima took the first move, attempting to strike Bokuto’s face with his left fist.
Bokuto quickly moved his head and dodged it, keeping his breathing steady as Ushijima tried again.
“He seems mad,” Konoha muttered over to you.
“Bokuto?” They shook their head, “Ushijima.”
Taking a quick little glance over at you, Bokuto swung his fist and successfully hit his opponent's torso, sending him back a little irritated. Bokuto smirked as he yet again avoided Ushijima’s punches.
“You sure you practiced enough?” Bokuto teased, struggling to contain his laughter as Ushijima furiously threw another punch.
Sooner or later the round was finished, and Ushijima had gone to his corner huffing and puffing, entirely out of breath.
You scurried over to Bokuto and wiped his forehead, giving him his water bottle and letting him drink. “You’re doing good, but don’t piss him off too much.”
“I think he wants to kill you now.” Sure enough when the both of you looked over at Ushijima, he was glaring at you guys, it almost looked like he was giving Bokuto the death stare.
“This might be one of my most fun matches ever,” it was time for the second round to start, you gave Bokuto a warm smile and ran back to your seat. Now you felt a bit more anxious, you for sure did not want Bokuto to get severely hurt, all because he pushed his opponent too far.
Ushijima swung at Bokuto the moment the bell rang, gritting his teeth when Bokuto swiveled around it. He was unaware of what Bokuto’s tactics for this match were, he just thought he was being an ass.
The crowd burst into a synchronous shout as Bokuto punched Ushijima’s face─︎ three times.
Blood was threatening to spill out of Ushijima’s nose now, and he definitely could taste some blood in his mouth too.
He took a weak swing at Bokuto, getting dizzy when he felt a hard uppercut lock his jaw.
Bokuto grinned, this would be a fairly fast match.
You were gripping the edge of your seat when Ushijima actually was able to hit Bokuto, and it looked like a pretty hard punch as well. But Bokuto didn’t seem phased by it, in fact he was almost happy that he got hit.
Ushijima was able to get another hit in, this time hitting Bokuto’s face. Now Bokuto was beginning to taste blood in his mouth, he forgot how hard Ushijima punched.
The two of them were causing so much chaos in the crowd, this match must’ve been a long awaited one.
Taking a few steps back, Bokuto realized that Ushijima was trying to corner him. He noticed the anger that was intensely radiating off of his opponent, okay...maybe he shouldn't have pissed him off.
Ushijima punched Bokuto’s waist, and felt somewhat satisfied when Bokuto groaned in annoyance.
But then he got annoyed, as Bokuto sprinted around him and got out of the corner. He was bleeding out of his mouth a little now, the bottom of his lip was turning into a reddish color instead of it’s usual pink-hue. The area Ushijima hit was also aching pretty badly, why’d this guy have to hit so goddamn hard?
“Don’t go easy on him!” Someone shouted from behind you, you weren’t sure who they were referring too, but you hoped they were rooting for Bokuto to win.
Bokuto must’ve heard that, because you saw him as he finally let out his energy on his opponent. Punching and hitting any inch of skin he was able to hit, the arms, the stomach, the face, he hit until he heard Ushijima hit the floor.
He turned towards you and smiled, seeing you all tense and shocked at what had just happened. Everyone in the crowd was cheering and yelling, raising their half drunken beers to Bokuto.
“I won.” He uttered, controlling his rapid breathing as he turned towards you, smiling and blushing and letting the adrenaline settle in his blood. You were smiling back at him, happy─︎ more than happy, actually.
The moment the two of you were back in the room he hugged you tight, not caring about the fact he was literally bleeding all over the place and sweating like crazy. You didn’t care either, just thankful Ushijima wasn’t able to actually kill him.
“You saw that right! Saw all of it!? Tell me you were watching,” Bokuto sounded like he just won the lottery or something, he was nearly jumping up and down from everything.
“Of course, Bokuto. You were great out there.” You looked at his injuries and grimaced, “Does it hurt?” Pointing to his lips and his whole body, you brushed your finger over a reddened spot on his torso.
“Not─︎ yeah, it does. But not right now, doesn’t matter.” Bokuto shook his head and kissed you, gripping the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. His lips were rough, and so was his kiss.
When he pulled away, Bokuto looked so dizzy. His eyes were dark and his lips were even more bruised.
“We’re going on a date.”
“Bokuto─︎ huh? You’re too excited, I want you to res-”
He laughed, “I’ll only be able to rest if you go on this date with me as a celebration.” Bokuto ran a hand through his hair and grinned, “A celebration for you seeing me win a match, because I am the champion of course. And a celebration for your first real day as manager.”
“Celebration for your win too, right?”
“Oh─︎ yeah, mhm, that as well.”
You lay on a small picnic blanket, cozy in the warmth of Bokuto’s hoodie. He sat down next to you, grunting as his limbs were still recovering from the fight.
It had been only a few hours since the match, nearly 2AM, and as tired as Bokuto was he did not want to sleep. All he wanted to do was go on this date with you, no matter how many times he yawned.
And though this was a “date” you still chose to tend to his injuries, wiping down the blood on his cheek and cleaning any cuts he had. You even were able to bring back an ice pack from the place, making sure that Bokuto held it against any places that felt sore.
“I’m gonna rematch Atsumu next,” he blurted out.
“Woahh there, how ‘bout you chill for a couple days alright? I’m your manager now, so you can’t argue about it.” You put some ointment on a cut he had near his lip, covering it up with a bandaid before laying back down.
“And I’m gonna win, and you’ll be there too. And then we’ll go on another date.” The smile on Bokuto’s face hadn’t faded away even after you left the boxing arena.
“What’s up with you lately? You seem different, not like─︎ not a bad different, just different.” Bokuto chuckled, peering over at you from where he was sitting.
“I’m happy, is there something wrong with that?” He crawled over to you, hovering slightly above your body.
“No, but you used to be mean.” You pouted. He ran his calloused thumb along your cheek, being reminded of his promise to himself. After he hurt you, he felt awful about it, and spent hours just regretting everything he did. And all your friends too, god he wishes you would just ghost them or something.
But he told himself that if he was going to be with you, if he liked you─︎ and he did─︎ he was going to try his hardest to be as gentle as he could. Protect you from anyone that tried to hurt you, and at first it was a little hard for him to do that. He’s so used to being more rough with people and cursing them out, but for you, he did his best to change.
“‘Cause I was unhappy.” Bokuto kissed your forehead, “I got you now.”
“During the fight, did you get nervous? Or get scared?” You asked genuinely curious.
Bokuto snickered and huffed, “I always do, so yes, I did.”
Your fingers carefully traced along his jawline, “What did you do when that happened?”
“Think of you.”
© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2021. do not repost or change.
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Day 18: “I can’t see”
Day 18: “I can’t see”
The battle was an exercise in both beauty and devastation.
Even has his fists and arrows flew, Clint could see everything.
Steve had been a beast, wielding Mjolnir as though he’d been born to carry it and was striking down the enemy with an unmatched fervor. Thor and Stormbreaker were glorious to watch as ozone and lightning sizzled through the air. Tony and Pepper—The way they moved together, as two people who knew and cherished every part of the other.
Clint’s thoughts brushed upon his Laura--
He was distracted from her when he felt the heat of red haze that was the essence of Wanda as she raged. She was terrifying in her fierceness.
And then flying horses and rings of fire and aliens and a boy with a web and allies... so many allies. They’d all done their best to keep the gauntlet away from that purple scrotum, but there were so, so many.
The Wakandans had suffered significant losses on the battlefield, and Clint was certain he’d seen several of the sorcerers hit the ground and stay down. To say that the two sides were evenly matched would be a lie.
The sky, already darkened by smoke and dust, grew darker still, but no one stopped to stare as a damned mothership entered orbit above them. They wouldn’t stop the fight until Thanos and all his minions were dead.
Suddenly, from somewhere in the upper atmosphere, a streak of light burst through the darkness and then literally burst through the hull of the ship. It was horrible and hopeful all at the same time. The ship was crashing, and Thanos’s ultimate advantage was gone.
With renewed optimism, the fight escalated and Clint found a path toward Tony and Thanos and their last stand.
The monster had just finished his last, mad monologue, and raised his hand to snap...
The look of confusion was epic, but then Clint and those around Tony realized his plan.
And Clint’s heart dropped.
Too many people had already died on that battlefield and Natasha Romanov who was the daughter of Ivan Romanov was gone and Tony had a bloody kid now! There was no way Tony was snapping his own.
Already, Spider-Man—Peter was on Tony’s right, while the raccoon was at his left. The antenna lady had grabbed hold of its paw while Wanda and Thor clutched at her. Nebula... their Nebula hooked onto the boy’s hand. Clint ran those last feet, and as the words, “I am Iron Man” left Tony’s mouth, he wrapped himself around Tony’s core.
No one else was going to die today.
Clint, and he was sure everyone else, felt rather than heard the snap, especially as he and those around Tony were saturated by the sheer power of the universe and all its enormity. His body vibrated with unharnessed potential and then, in the ultimate act of dissipation, a concussive blast exploded from the nanotech gauntlet, sending all those around the stones flying through the air.
And Clint knew no more.
* * * * * *
The ringing was what he noticed first.
Well, he guessed it was time for a new hearing aid prescription anyways, and besides that—it was worth it.
He sat up cautiously. If the ringing ears hadn’t been the first clue that he’d gotten banged up, then the headache and nausea were dead giveaways. He was fine with that though. It wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last time. He simply kept his eyes closed while the dizziness passed, breathed slowly—smelled the smoke, dust, ash, and even blood in the air.
He wished that Nat was there with him.
The dizziness passed eventually, and Clint opened his eyes. A large part of him wanted to see the ash and dust as it floated about in the light breeze that was almost caressing those remaining on the field. Another part of him was so tired of the dark and shadows.
It had been a long five years.
But it was too dark, when his eyes finally cleared. He could barely make out shapes in the haze.
How many enemies had there been?
The ringing was finally improving, thank goodness, and he noted the sound of commotion behind him. A hand rested on his shoulder and Clint shifted to see who it is, but it was still impossible. Only a dark silhouette stood before him.
Finally, the shape crouched before him and spoke, “Are you okay?”
Yeah, maybe the ringing hadn’t improved as much as he’d hoped, but if he concentrated, he could put the sounds together over that awful monotonous tone.
“Yeah!” He yelled back to whoever this was. “Ears are messed up, but it’ll be better once my head clears!”
The shape moved towards him, but Clint was pretty sure he recognized who it was and wasn’t worried. It was confirmed when he spoke loudly beside Clint’s ear. “We’re gonna get you to a med bay to be sure, okay?”
“Nah, Sam, save it for the folks that are actually hurt,” he joked, again loudly, then asked, “How’s Tony doin’?”
Sam leaned in again, the warm breath already starting to irritate Clint. Sam seemed to get that though. He kept the information brief. “He’s gone on to Wakanda but he’s alive.”
Clint went to nod, but stopped himself as his balance wavered even as he sat.
“C’mon, Clint, let’s get you to a medic.” Sam grabbed Clint from under his arm and helped him up. “You can argue with them, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Clint replied. The ringing was continuing to improve, but—“Sam, can you shine a light for me? You may have your hero goggles on, but I can’t see for shit.”
Sam’s grip tightened. “What do you mean?” he said?
Confused by the question, Clint responded with, “I mean it’s dark? I have lived through a battle with an alien overlord, dude. I’d be really pissed if I tripped and broke my neck right after just ‘cause I couldn’t see where I was going. ”
Sam leaned into Clint again, “Hey, Clint, we’re gonna lie you back down, okay?” He was already guiding him back to the ground. “Hang on.”
The decreased ringing made the urgent call for a medic all the more clear. “Sam! What the hell is going on?” Clint was not normally one for panic, but the disruption to both his hearing and sight, plus the fact that he wanted so desperately for this to be over—he couldn’t help but sound scared.
Sam kneeled now, beside Clint who was flat on his back, and leaned in. “Dude. Clint. It’s six o’clock in the evening. The sky is clear and the sun is about to set.”
Clint moved his head back and forth, looking for clues to tell him that Sam was just messing with him—that Sam had a really sick sense of humour and thought that a concussed Clint would be an easy target.
But he couldn’t find the clues—because he couldn’t bloody see.
Sam moved closer again, “What’s wrong, man? Is something hurting?”
Clint shook his head, “No! I can’t see.”
Sam put his hands on either side of Clint’s face. “I know, Clint. Now stop moving your head, you idiot!”
The medics arrived then. Clint could hear them. He could hear them drop the spinal board beside him on the ground. Then heard them huff in frustration when he argued about the neck guards. “But I’ve already been moving!” He’d hollered at them.
Clint had lost the argument. Apparently having a head injury negated any input into medical decision making.
Once secured on the board, the medics lifted Clint, and with a press of a button, his transportation was hovering above the ground.
He had another moment of panic and threw his hand off the side of his board. “Wait! Sam?! Are you still here?”
Sam’s gloved hand grasped his. “I’m here, man.”
“Sam, I can’t see,” he announced.
“Does the cool transport mean I’m heading to Wakanda?” he asked, afraid to say what he really wanted to say.
“Of course,” Sam was leaning closer, “All the pains in the ass are heading there.”
Sam tightened his hold on Clint’s hand.
His chin quivered, and he fought down tears, but he managed to keep it together. “I’m, uh.” He tried to pull in a calming breath. “I’m scared,” he choked out. “Please don’t leave me alone?” Dammit. He would not fall apart—he would not fall apart—he would not fall apart.
Sam squeezed his hand harder still and gave it a distracting shake. “Clint, I’m not goin’ anywhere until you tell me—or I find a better offer.”
Clint snorted at the unexpected tease. “A better offer? What the hell, man!”
Sam must have signalled the medics because he’d started moving then. “Yeah, I’m starving! I’d kill for a burger right now.”
Clint smiled. “Yeah, a burger sounds good right about now.”
“Well,” Sam continued. “I’m not sharing so you’re gonna have to find your own.”
Clint closed his eyes to a change in his vision—where he’d seen shades of grey, after a flash of brightness, he’d been left with black. “Sam?”
“Sorry ‘bout that. We just went through one of the wizards’ fire rings. We’re just outside of their medical facility and it’s night here so...”
“Okay.” Clint was feeling pretty tired all of a sudden. It wasn’t the concussion, he was pretty sure. He just needed to check out for a bit—so when Sam had looked away to talk to the receiving medic, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and did just that.
* * * * * *
When he woke up again, he didn’t bother trying to open his eyes. He could feel the bandages wrapped around his head and knew there was no point.
On a positive note, the ringing in his ears had dulled enough that Clint was pretty sure he was hearing the ambient noise of the room. The beeping of the monitors was the clearest, but he thought that, if he tried hard enough, that he could hear the hissing sound of the blood pressure cuff inflating—maybe. It was good to dream, right?
He definitely heard the sound of papers rustling beside him, low compared to the bed. He remembered before the ring, and he hoped. “Sam?”
The rustling stopped with the placement of said papers on the bed beside his hand. “Yeah, Clint. I’m here.”
“What’s goin’ on with...” Every part of him wanted to yell ‘MY EYES! MY EYES!’ but it seemed that not knowing gave him a level of hope he was not willing to part with yet. “... the others?”
The chair squeaked as Sam leaned back in his chair. “Well, I can fill you in, but you have to stay calm or Dr. Strange will kick my ass outta here. Got it?”
Clint’s stomach dropped, but he’d committed so... “Got it.”
“Alright then, I’ll start with the good news first—the Guardians... the alien and the raccoon. They’re both doing alright. Apparently this wasn’t there first rodeo and the stones were feeling benevolent.”
Clint thought about that for a minute, turned it around in his brain and filed it away for later. For now, “That sounds strangely sentient of them?”
“Yeah, that’s what Dr. Strange thought, too, but they haven’t been able to talk to anyone else yet.” Sam paused, “You should expect to have a lot of people talking to you now that you’re awake, ‘cause you and the Guardians are it, so far.”
“So far?” Clint’s heart sank, “Wanda?”
Sam laughed. “I should have known you’d want to know about her. Sorry that I didn’t think to start with her first.”
“It’s all good, just tell me, please?”
“Well, it seems that Thor and Wanda are lucky as all hell, ‘cause they came out of that without a scratch. The doctors have checked everything and they’re both fine. Just sleeping... like really, really sleeping.”
Clint laughed at that. Wanda had been out to the farm several times before... well, before. He knew how much she appreciated a late morning and rosehip tea.
And Thor? They’d all seen how much healing Thor had to do before the whole stone thing. It was no wonder he was taking a breather.
“And Tony... and the kid?”
Clint could hear Sam trying to organize his thoughts as he fussed with his hands and shuffled his papers again. “Yeah. Tony and the kid.”
Suddenly, Clint didn’t want to know anymore. The sound of Sam’s voice sounded so sad and helpless.
Clearing his throat, Clint croaked out, “Is it bad?”
Sam pushed himself up out of his chair, the feet scarping harshly against the linoleum floor. “Well, the kid is...” He must have run his hand down his face. “He’s running a pretty high fever right now and with his freaky DNA, the doctors aren’t sure if it’s the radiation messing with his DNA or his DNA fighting the radiation. He’s fighting though, and Dr. Cho is overseeing his care.
“Well, I’m not gonna sugar coat it for you. They’re currently amputating Tony’s arm. The power of the stones was distributed pretty evenly between every one of you idiots, but Tony’s arm was still the conduit. They couldn’t save it without risking radiation poisoning and the nerves were too damaged for him to use it again anyways.”
Wow. What do you say to a team report like that?
“My thoughts exactly. Now, Do you need a minute? I get it if you do, but don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re avoid the elephant in the room.”
“There’s an elephant in the room?”
“You’re not funny, Clint.”
“Really? I think I’m hilarious.”
Sam groaned out loud and sat back in his chair. “Why do you damned superheroes keep forcing me into therapist Sam mode?” Sam snapped. “I’d tell you to sit your ass down and listen to me, but well, you know...”
“Nope. I’m going to head out and grab Dr. Strange so he can explain what’s going on so you can get your head in the game and make a plan. Got it? Yeah? Good.” And he walked to the door.
Clint heard the footsteps and panicked. He said he wouldn’t leave! “Sam!?”
He guessed that Sam heard the panic and rushed back. “I’m right here, Clint.” He clasped his hand in Clint’s. “I wasn’t leaving—just standing at the door to call Dr. Strange over. I promise. I’m still here.”
Clint nodded his head frantically, “Okay, okay. I’m good. We’re good.”
He felt Sam squeezing his hand, grounding him. “You are, buddy. Just breathe.”
He pulled in a shaky breath, and then another.
He was just starting to calm himself when he heard another voice from the door, “Mr. Barton. Is this a good time to talk?”
He jumped at the unexpected observer to his anxiety. “I don’t know. Who are you?”
“My apologies,” the man entered the room without invitation. “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange, and I’ve been your primary physician. I heard that you were awake and thought you’d like to discuss your prognosis.”
To be honest, Clint didn’t know if he was ready and said as much. “After hearing about Tony and the kid, I’m feeling like I’m due for karmic retribution or something.”
Dr. Strange shook his head. “I know all about karma, Mr. Barton and this isn’t it. All I see is a man who was grieving, trying to find a way to go forward. And when he was given a chance to help set it right, he did—AND helped to save the life of one of his teammates and half the universe.”
Clint turned his face away from him.
“Very well, then. Let’s talk about your condition, shall we?”
Clint didn’t answer.
Dr. Strange sighed and pressed. “If you’d prefer, we can bring your wife in while we have our conversation.”
That got a reaction out of him. His head spun to face his visitors. “Laura’s here?”
Sam jumped in there. “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t really want to see my ugly mug here once they figured out how to fix things, and we had all these wizards doing their fire ring thing so, ya’ know. I got them to bring your wife. Now, do you want me to bring her in so the good doctor can explain? I hadn’t wanted to freak you out before but now you know so...”
“Yes! Please?!” After five long years he could see...
“Wait! Don’t—“ Clint called out, but it was too late.
He knew the moment she entered the room. Her steps carried a softness and power that he recognized from long nights walking colicky babies and canning tomatoes in the kitchen. He could even smell her hair as the air caught wisps of her sunshine and strawberries. “Laura,” he whispered, even as his hand sought her out instead of Sam.
She was beside him in a second. “Clint.” She murmured softly as she placed kiss after kiss on his forehead. “You silly man! Don’t you dare think of trying to leave me like this again, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He answered. He’d never defy her—ever.
“Now, I was standing out there in the hallway listening to you be difficult about your own diagnosis, Clint. You know the deal, honey. We can’t fight the battle if we don’t know who the enemy is, so can we please get on with this so I know if I have to worry or join another support group.”
Clint shook his head and chuckled.
From the corner, Sam called out, “What kind of support group do you belong to now, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“It’s a small organization. You probably haven’t heard of it.” Laura replied. “It’s called D.A.H.A.”
Sam made a confused sound. “Which is?”
She smiled big. “Dumb Ass Husbands Anonymous.”
Sam snorted, making Clint smile bigger. “Hey, man! She’s not just a card carrying member, she’s the president!” he called out to the room.
The room erupted in laughter and it took a couple of minutes for it to finally settle.
Clint heard the sound of rustling cloth and a clearing throat, and tried to picture Dr. Strange. He was the one who’d been wearing the red cape, right?
“Well, if we’re all ready, I’d like to talk about what is going to happen in a couple of minutes.”
“Minutes?!” Clint blurted out. “What?”
“Yes, Mr. Barton, minutes. You see, you slept for a very, very long time. Because of that, we were able to perform all of the necessary tests to determine the cause of damage to your eyes.”
Clint cocked his head, “So you know if I’ll be able to see or not when we take the bandages off, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. The stones have left all of you with some sort of repercussions to deal with. Yes, some of you have been able to sleep it off and be done with it, but it’s been nearly impossible to get a true diagnosis for any of the injured that were within the stone’s blast radius.
“In fact, we can’t determine whether it was the radiation from the stones or the getting knock out when you were all blasted back that caused your blindness. Either way it required repair—and we’ve done it.”
Laura took the reins then. “Repaired it, how?”
Dr. Strange could only smile. “I believe Clint has had some experience with this tool? Dr. Cho calls it the cradle?”
Clint cringed as he thought of Laura’s distaste for the technology, but she passed the concern right by.
“When will we know if it worked,” she asked.
“Right away. We simply need to remove the bandages and it will either have worked or not.”
Laura pulled her hand from his to get out of the way. “Well, let’s get to it and see what we’re working with, shall we?”
“Whoa! Hang on a second here! What if I’m not ready?!”
She gripped his hand tightly and leaned closer to talk to just him. “I’m not sure what you need to be ready for, Clint. It’s like ripping off a bandage, okay. We’ll count 1-2-3 and boom. There’s seeing Clint again or, if the universe totally sucks, there’s not seeing Clint! We’ll deal with whatever’s thrown our way, like we always do.” She kissed his forehead, and then pressed another against his cheek. “You’ve got this... we’ve got this.”
Clint wanted to believe that. Honestly, but...
Sam piped up. “Hey, Dr. Strange, why don’t you show me where that magical coffee machine is. I could sure use a cup. How about you?”
“I’m more of a tea drinker myself but...”
Clint was sure there was all of that expressive eye garbage happening and he wasn’t dealing with that. “Dr. Strange, Sam would like for you to vacate so that my wife and I can talk about how ridiculous I’m being.”
“Oh,” the man said. “Why didn’t you just say so?” And the two men walked loudly out into the hallway.
Laura, being as pragmatic as always, poked a finger into Clint’s chest and hissed. “You’d better explain what’s going on in that ridiculous brain of yours, buddy, because I’m already over extra people listening in on you and I bickering. We’re always a team, have been forever!”
He pressed back into the bed and raised his hands in surrender, “Hey! I’m not doing this on purpose honey—I promise! It’s just... I just...”
She softened as she watched him struggle. She grasped his hand, brought it to rest over her heart, leaned forward to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Clint, we can’t fix it if I don’t know.”
Clint ripped his hand away, “That’s the thing! WE can’t fix it! I did this to myself! I earned this—“
Laura grabbed his hand again, held on even tighter. “Tell me so I understand! I love you, Clint Barton, so start talking!”
He fought the words for a minute and then—“Laura, honey! I haven’t seen a good real thing in five years. My memories of you and the kids are of ashes in the wind. I didn’t know if I had to collect them—and nearly lost my mind when you all blew away.” He drew in a deep breath and continued, “I’ve murdered, Laura. Bad men, yes, but I played judge, jury and executioner. If you... all of you were gone, why were they allowed to go on?! I needed to find a balance, and in doing so, I became a monster!” His chest heaved as he confessed.
“Clint, honey, no...” Laura tried to calm him.
But Clint continued, edging on hysterical. “I saw Nat die, Laura. She was my best friend and my last sight of her is broken on a god-forsaken planet that I’ll never see again... and it should have been me!
“And then we fixed it, all of it, for two glorious minutes... and I heard you, Laura! And I thought I could be happy because the world was made right...” He felt tears soak his dressings, but he didn’t care. “And the battle, please... all my eyes have seen is death and chaos for so long—and I’m so scared that this is the universe making me pay! Sam said the stones were sentient, and I felt them inside of me! What if I was judged and this is my punishment?!” He pulled his hand from hers once more and covered his face. “I can’t...”
Laura said nothing as Clint lay in his bed, grieving. She brushed her fingers tenderly through his hair as she hummed the lullaby she’d sing to their children when they couldn’t sleep. When he’d finally calmed—“Whatever the universe decides, sweetheart...” she breathed out next to his ear.
Ever so carefully, she pulled at the edges of the rolled gauze and brought it away from his face. She pressed a kiss to each of his still covered eyes, and then removed the gauze with a gentleness only Clint and their beautiful children knew in her.
She moved so she was hovering above him, blocking out the harshness of any light. Her hair fell around his face like a shield.
“Clint,” she whispered, “Open your eyes.”
And he did.
oc trope challenge: love across battle lines → kit varga and macbeth
“ If the tower was destroyed, and Macbeth never left… The idea gutted him. His heart was destroyed when he’d heard about the tower. For thirteen years of their lives, he and Macbeth were the only ones they could turn to. Kit was the one who laid awake with him, counting stars through barred windows. Kit was the one who wiped his tears. Kit was the one who held him as he wept. If he had died in that tower, a piece of Kit had died with him. ”
[UNDER THE CUT] [AO3]
Kit feels the dusty air enter his lungs, inhaling sharply as another attack lands just behind him. Still, he’s not sure if that’s why he can’t breathe - it could be the pressing weight of anxiety on his chest, too. He’s terrified. He knows Macbeth won’t hurt him, but it’s come close… too close for comfort. As the smoke clears, he sees him: his friend, his best friend, sneering at him across the battlefield. It’s been years - but it’s still Macbeth. He knows it is. Macbeth may have hurt Richard, but he wouldn’t hurt Kit. That he knows is true.
He clears his throat. “I’ve noticed none of your attacks have hit me,” he says, aiming for nonplussed, coming out strangled. The hand at his side grips the bag that’s usually attached to his hip. He could attack now, take the initiative, even pull one of his stronger cards and get the drop on him. But he doesn’t want to win; neither of them winning will really do them any good. All he needs to do is to keep him from going after Lucy and Gray - that, he can do.
Macbeth - Midnight - whatever it is he’s going by now - shrugs. It’s practiced nonchalance; Kit knows the motions well. As someone who’s been haunted by the Tower of Heaven all his life, he knows how to fake being okay. It just takes someone who knows the right buttons to push to send you over the edge. “So I’ve got bad aim,” Macbeth says casually.
There’s a long pause, where Kit considers him. As he said, the casualty isn’t novel to him; he does the same thing every day. Unfortunately for Macbeth, Kit knows the right buttons to push. He juts his chin out and declares, “I know that’s not true.”
As expected, Macbeth’s smirk contorts back into a glare. His handsome face tinges with red, a bright, angry burn on his cheekbones. His anger is rolling off of him in waves, and Kit only briefly thinks to prepare to defend himself from an oncoming attack. “You don’t know anything,” Macbeth spits. Venom laces his words, and if tone could kill, Kit would surely be dead. Macbeth gestures to behind Kit, where Nirvana stands, tall and menacing in the distance. Kit doesn’t bother to look. “If I lose, my father will think I’m unworthy, and abandon me!” He drops his arm, putting his hand on his hip instead, his mouth pulled into a thin line. Then, he adds: “Like you.”
It only makes sense, he supposes. If Kit knows how to push the right buttons, Macbeth does too. Kit feels his composure slip. He almost drops the bag in his hand with the sudden urge to ball his hands into fists. “I never abandoned you,” he yells back. His voice shakes with force and urgency, he knows, but he no longer cares. It is more important to him that Macbeth hear him out than whether or not he shows any weakness. “I would never abandon you!”
Macbeth barely lets him finish. He turns his head away, seething. “I was in Hell - ”
“You don’t think I know?” Kit cuts in. “I was there.”
“Not as long as I was!” Macbeth replies, looking up sharply.
“You told me to go!”
They fall silent, suddenly, the air going still around them. Macbeth freezes, looking at Kit in anger and surprise. It’s almost like he didn’t believe he would ever bring that up. Meanwhile, Kit feels his eyes begin to burn, tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. His hand grips harder around the bag, and he swallows, willing the tears away. “I never wanted to leave you,” he whispers.
He sees the past in flashes, sometimes, and he certainly sees it now. He wonders if Macbeth sees it too: Kit, gangly and awkward at the age of thirteen, running, bare feet skidding against stone. His blonde hair was dirty and ratty, arms bruised by the grip of the guards from just the day before. There was blood pouring down from his nose, angry and red and raw, but that hardly mattered when the door was just in front of him. The only thing keeping him going, the only thing spurring him on, was the shrieking call of “Go!” from just behind him. Macbeth, gathered in the guards’ arms, was certainly not going anywhere. He didn’t seem to care, though; not if Kit could make it out.
“You told me to run,” Kit says now, the children they once were still dancing in his memory. “To go on without you, so I did.”
In the present, Macbeth’s face softens, ever so slightly. Kit can feel his lip quivering, his voice much softer and shaking more harshly than before. He tries to smile as he recalls what happened just after his escape. “I ran all the way to a guild,” he says. He thinks of his sister, who, after this, will welcome him home with open arms, waiting to share the stories of her own mission; he thinks of his parents, who will be glad to see him home safely. Lyon, Jura, even Sherry - they’re all his family. “And a family - my family - took me in, and I found a home.” The fact that that was all due to Macbeth goes unspoken - by the way that his mouth tightens, his lips pressing together tightly, Kit thinks he knows. Macbeth saved his life. He was his best friend. He’ll never forget that. Which is why he says, his voice more clear and confident than it’s been since they’d set sights on each other again, “I thought I lost my home when I lost you.”
Macbeth seems surprised by that. He steps back a little, his former confidence shaken by Kit’s admission. Softly, he says, “You said you’d come back - ”
Kit throws his arms up, angrier now than ever. “You don’t think I tried?!” he shouts. Macbeth stops again, his mouth screwing up in a grimace. Kit barely notices; the heavy thump of his pulse against his skin is deafening, silencing everything else around him. “There were months I would go on missions, dangerous ones, trying to find the tower, and I never did. They hid it from me.”
It was ridiculous, he knows now, but he would be damned if he didn’t try. For months at a time, his room would be covered in maps - all missions he’d been on, places where the tower wasn’t. There were red X’s and notes on each of them, talking to himself, telling himself where he’d been and how he could retrace his steps. Sometimes, Weaver would have to draw him out of his room to play games or sit in the garden with her. She never asked, bless her, and he probably wouldn’t have told her at the time if she had - he didn’t want to drag his new family into this mess, too. But for five years, he searched for Macbeth. He’d never wanted to let him go.
Macbeth is shaking his head now though. He seems as if he’s trying to convince himself, to reaffirm what he already knew to be true: that Kit had left him. It makes Kit’s heart plummet in his chest, but he stays strong, refusing to back down. “You ran away,” Macbeth mutters. “You were scared. You’ve been gone five years.”
“And there was never a day I didn’t look for you,” Kit says. His voice is raspy, raw with unshed tears. He swallows and tries again. “When I heard the tower was destroyed, I…” His voice shakes, he knows. He can’t think of that time without feeling the loss all over again.
If the tower was destroyed, and Macbeth never left… He could barely stand to think of him, trapped under all that rubble, or vaporized, or even dead somehow in the five years between then and now. The idea gutted him. His heart was destroyed when he’d heard about the tower, completely ruined, doomed to carry the thought of what could have been forever. For thirteen years of their lives, he and Macbeth were the only ones they could turn to. Macbeth had his pseudo dad, sure - but Brain was terrible. He mocked and jeered him, making him feel like he was worthless. Kit was the one who laid awake with him, counting stars through barred windows, bare arms pressed together, murmuring softly until Macbeth could finally fall asleep. Kit was the one who wiped his tears as a bruise formed on his cheekbone, a harsh hit from a guard who thought he was being mouthy. Kit was the one who held him as he wept, the sounds of Sorano screaming just one room over ringing in both of their ears. If he had died in that tower, a piece of Kit had died with him.
Kit clears his throat again, willing the tightness away before he continues. “I was so scared,” he admits. Macbeth’s resolve instantly softens, his mouth going lax and brows tightening. It almost looks like worry. Kit could laugh. “I’ve always been scared. I was scared of losing you and now I lost you and I’m terrified.”
His admission hangs between them, a vicious pendulum in the makeshift arena they’ve built. Macbeth looks confused, and hurt, and sad - and Kit can’t say that he doesn’t feel the same. After a long moment, Macbeth nods. Then, he stands his ground, his stance shifting to attack. Kit feels his heart stop for a moment, terror racing through his veins as he realizes the fight has to continue. One of them has to win. “I won’t let my father down. Not after all he’s done for me,” Macbeth says. His tone is firm, and cold. The passion of just a few moments ago is almost completely gone.
Kit squares his shoulders. “I can’t let my guild down,” he says, evenly. “Not after all they’ve done for me.”
Macbeth nods in acceptance. This is the moment - the moment that draws the lines in the sand between them. Quickly, Macbeth begins shimmering out of existence, disappearing, his magic just as Kit remembers it. Well, it takes two to tango. Kit retrieves his cards from his bag and activates them. He feels the game magic thrumming through him, each of the cards in his hands coming to life. The magic is clearly tinged with concern for him. The cards are stiff with worry. They feel his distress and he can’t blame them for being afraid. He can hardly keep the shake out of his voice when he says, “I’d like to play a game.”
His magic prepares itself, golden, shimmering lettering appearing in the air above him. He hears Macbeth growl, “No,” before Kit speaks again.
“Rule number one,” he announces. “You have to stay where I can see you.” Macbeth reappears out of thin air, his eyes wide as they dart around and survey the area for an escape. Kit pays no mind, continuing. “Rule number two - ”
“I have to prove to him that I’m worthy!” Macbeth screams suddenly. Kit swallows, watching as the golden writing in the air pauses, waiting for his next command. “If I don’t, he’ll cast me out!”
Kit ignores him, moving on to announce the most important rule. “Rule number two: neither of us do anything we’ll regret.”
Macbeth looks frantic now, stumbling closer and holding his arms out. “He’ll leave me, Kit.” Genuine fear is behind his words, and Kit feels his heart break all over again.
“And rule number three,” he says finally, “we both walk out of here alive.” His magic is confused by that, he can tell; the gold script wavers in the air, writing out his final rule hesitantly. With his magic, Kit’s rules must be obeyed by everyone playing the game. He’ll be damned if he lets Macbeth die on him again. He pulls a card - the Jack of Clubs. Perfect. This will distract him. He throws it out, activating him and watching as he takes shape and stands between them. “Rise, Jack of Clubs!”
The Jack takes his clubs from his sides and plunges them into the ground. It rumbles angrily, shaking as it begins to crack beneath them, out towards Macbeth. Macbeth groans, an angry guttural noise from his chest, as the attack throws him back into the air. Kit merely prepares his next move.
The battle lines are drawn. It’s a shame they couldn’t be on the same side this time.
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Part Eleven | Never Again
Picking up the prepaid phone, Tempest looked at the text message. Room 17. ¼ LB. Tempest was well aware this was somebody wanting weed. Anybody who bought weed from Tempest knew that was how you texted her. “I gotta go,” she said slipping the phone into her back pocket. She leaned over and kissed Tab’s cheek. “Come to my house later tonight, I’ve got some stuff that’ll clear that right up,” she said holding the woman’s jaw and looked over her handy work. “Not bad, get some ice for that lip.”
She lid a hundred dollar bill on the bar and shifted her eyes to Gianna. “Baby girl, I shall call you later.” Tempest told he before pushing the door open and made her exit. Climbing into the driver seat of her Benz, she turned the key over. Waiting for the vehicle to warm up, Tempest lit a cigarette before texting the unknown number back. On my way. She hit send and tossed the phone into the passenger seat. Lighting her cigarette, she drove away from Outlaw towards the motel.
A run down establishment near the town line, Tempest pulled up outside of door 17. Eyes shifting to the navy blue truck parked beside. “What the fuck?” She said, eyes squinting as she climbed out of her car. She grabbed her bag from the trunk and slammed it shut. Slowly, she walked around the truck. Fucking thing looked brand new. Shaking the thoughts from her head, Tempest made her way to the door. Knocking three times before she stood there and waited. “It’s open,” the muffled voice called from behind the door.
You would have thought that voice would have triggered her memory. Twisting the handle of the door, she pushed it open. Stepping inside as she looked around. Room was empty. Door closes. Tempest startles and spins around. Blue eyes wide as she looked him over. Heart racing inside of her chest. No time to react as she felt the force of his hands on her upper arms. “I’m so sorry baby,” Eddie said as he cupped her face in his hands, brushing the hair from her skin.
Tempest pushed him off her and stepped back. “Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked him in confusion. Eddie stepped towards her again, his hands trying to cup her face. She felt the sting of the tears in her eyes. She knew what he’d do if she tried pushing him away again. Her hands lifting to cup his face in her hands, kissing him softly. “Baby I thought we said it was better if you didn’t come home,” she pleaded with him.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said leaning in and kissed her. His lips against her own made her skin crawl. Her body shaking in fear as she felt the tear fall down her cheek. “I didn’t want it to be like this, and then your dad,” Eddie said with scattered thoughts. Her eyes opened as she looked at him, hands falling as she took a step back from him. “What about my dad?” She asked him softly the first time. When he didn’t answer, she went from fearing him to loathing him.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” She shouted. Eddie's eyes went black as he threw her up against the wall. She felt something pop as she hit the wall. Flinching as his fist went through the wall beside her head. “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.” He cried as he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, it was an accident. I just wanted to see you.” He cried as he clung to her. Tempest looked down at him with discontempt. “Get up!” She yelled at him. Her hands forcing his arms off her waist as she tried to walk away from him, she wanted to go for the door.
“Where you going?” Eddie yelled.
“I’m leaving you!” She snapped at him.
Hand grabbed her bag, yanking her backwards.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" She screamed at him, body twisting around to look at him as the bag was ripped off her arm.
Eddie placed his hands in the air, almost in shock that the once weak Tempest Creed he had broken so badly finally grew a set of balls. A smug grin on his face as he motioned his hands to her. "Come on Tempy, we both know you're not gonna beat me." He scoffed her at.
"Wrong," she hissed as she cocked her arm back, allowing her right fist to connect hard against his jaw.
FUCK. Sudden memories of the last time she had hit flooding back to her. Her legs stumbling backwards as the back of her knees hit the bed. Panic seeped deep in her veins. She'd woken the parasite that took over Eddie. The parasite that took him to the darkest parts of his mind. Too bad her venom ran deeper.
Eddie moved, grasping tightly at her arms throwing her to the bed. "YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH ME?" He snapped at her.
Tempest spit in his face as she struggled against his force. Eddie only gripping tighter on her arms as he tried to pin her to the bed. "Yeah, you fucking like it rough," he grinned as he she continued to fight against him.
"Eddie please," she cried as she gave up trying to resist.
His hand wrapped forcefully around her throat. Squeezing, he grew hard as she gasped for air. Her hands trying to force his grip off her.
Eddie leaned over her, tongue slithering up her cheek. "First, I'm gonna remind you why you fell in love with me," his free hand pushing at the cotton shorts he was wearing before tugging at her jeans.
Tempest could feel the world fading around. Oxygen sucked from her lungs. Eyes slowly closing as her hands fell. "That's it, time to go night night. Just like your daddy," he whispered to her.
Crystal blue eyes shot open wide. Acrylic nails scratching hard across his face. Eddie forced to release his hand from her throat. Tempest inhaled, gasping for air as she pushed him off her. She rolled off the bed, the feeling of his fingers tangling in her hair made her eyes twinge as she reached for what would appear to be nothing more than brass knuckles that read American Outlaw, tucked in the side of her combat boot.
Eddie pulled her back against his chest. Tempest's eyes closed as she felt his teeth nip at her earlobe. He made her fucking skin crawl. "I'm sorry," he whispered. There he went again, trying to be sweet. Like she wasn't going to retaliate.
Fingers wrap tightly around the knuckles of her closed blade. Eddie spun her around to look at him. "You know I get crazy sometimes," his eyes soft. His voice low. This mother fucker was good.
Eddie cupped his face in her hands, running his finger over the bruise from the punch she'd taken from his earlier. His forehead pressed against hers as he kissed her.
Thumb hitting the trigger as the blade sprang open. A gasp for air escaped his lips as Temp twisted the blade into his throat. Tears falling down her face as Eddie pulled back from her. Tempest pulled the blade from his neck, head shaking as he tried to cling to her.
"Temp," he said gasping.
"I'm the head bitch in charge around here," she whispered in his ear.
Tempest pushed him off her gently watching him fall to the floor. His last breath taken as his eyes stayed glued on her.
Bloody hands covered her mouth as she fell to the floor. "What did I do?"
Hands scrambled to reach for her bag. She needed a cigarette. She needed alcohol. She needed backup.
With a cigarette lit and pressed between her lips, her hands shook as she texted her cousin. Motel. 911.
Same bloody hands continued to shake as she held the prepay, punching in Dallas' number.
Hey it's Dallas. You know what to do. BEEP
"Yippie-ki-yay mother fucker."
Phone went dead as eyes glazed over. Numbness creeping over as Tempest Creed sat there smoking her cigarette. She couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off the body that lied beside her.