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pileofmush · 1 month

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you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood.

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares.

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold.

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed.

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him.

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?”

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.”

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows.

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?”

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it.

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first.

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.”

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin.

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts.

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly.

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?”

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something.

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen.

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it.

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple.

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Yeaaaah. It’s true.

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used.

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again.

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor.

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open.

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway.

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you.

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?”

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you.

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his.

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen.

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods.

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe.

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life.

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return.

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again.

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes.

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you.

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask.

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—”

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out."

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean.

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones.

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu.

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs.

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear.

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart.

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly.

…You don’t know if you want to.

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close.

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh.

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement.

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it.

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done.

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment.

You scrub, and scrub.

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command.

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body.

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting.

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.”

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night.

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together.

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on.

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—”

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—”

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him.

You look at him.

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you.

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish.

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?”

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach.

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams.

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta x you #yuta x you #jjk x gn!reader #jjk #tw: blood #tw: death #m.jjk #m.yuuta #battle scarred;#yuuta my beloved <3

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tzuyusluv · 1 year

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❥ Lisa Fluff Alphabet

Affection ⇒ Affection is something that is constant in your relationship. Wether it be a piggyback ride or having each others arms around the others neck or waist. Lisa is always somehow touching you.

Beauty ⇒ She finds beauty in your kindness. He adores the fact you have unlimited kindness towards everyone.

Cuddles ⇒ Something she needs everyday, especially after practice. Her favorite position is the spoon and it’s 50/50 on wether she’s small or big spoon.

Domestic ⇒ Probably the least domestic member. You’ll do the dishes together or chores together but out of the four girls, she’s definitely the last to settle down.

Equal ⇒ Everything is pretty equal in your relationship. I can’t see her doing anything other than 50/50.

Fiance(e) ⇒ Not soon at all. She wants to focus on her career and her relationship with you while balancing the both of them. It’s more likely to happen if Blackpink didn’t have a comeback soon and if you were in a relationship for a long time.

Gentle ⇒ She can be more rough. Especially when she’s has a bad day. She’s needs to be alone during that time and if you push it, she might raise her voice a little.

Hugs ⇒ Her hugs are filled with emotion. Though she likes to be the one to be hugged.

Inspiration ⇒ You’re definitely an inspiration towards her. Wether it be including a dance move that you liked or her including subtle hints about you in some lyrics.

Jealousy ⇒ She’s pretty jealous. If you compliment someone else, she will ask for one as well. She tries to control it but sometimes she needs you focused on just her.

Kisses ⇒ A passionate kisser. While she likes pecks, she loves a good passionate kiss that includes a lot of emotion. She adores kisses especially after coming home from tour.

Love Confessions ⇒ Not big on saying ‘I love you’ out loud but saying it through actions. Like washing the dishes after you’ve had a long day or making sure your favorite blanket is warm just in time for bed.

Mornings ⇒ You might not see her in the mornings. Especially if she has a schedule that day. She likes to get an early start.

Nights ⇒ Nights are a great way for everyone to wind down. You cook dinner together and follow a similar routine of saying goodnight to the pets and talking about your day together in the bed.

Open ⇒ I think she would be a pretty open person especially if you’re someone who she trusts. I think it would take a little bit to gain her trust but once you do, she’s all in.

Patience ⇒ Not a patient person, especially if she’s in teacher mode. She’s a perfectionist and someone who likes things done fast.

Quizzes ⇒ She does remember a lot of things about you. I think she would be very good at it but it would be a 50/50 when she’s had a long day or got back from tour.

Remember ⇒ Teaching you how to dance to her solos. The fact you expressed an interest in it, her heart exploded with love.

Security ⇒ She likes to be the one protected than be the one protecting. She wants to know that you love her and the best way to show that is to be protective of her.

Try ⇒ She does try a whole lot! Though she does expect it in return so if you don’t try with things like anniversaries, she’ll start to not try as well.

Ugly ⇒ Someone who doesn’t have kindness towards anything. If you ignore an animal in the rain or an elderly person needed help, she instantly thinks you aren’t attractive.

Vanity ⇒ She does have to put some effort into her looks but when it’s just you two at home, she will be bare faced and hair kinda messy.

Whole ⇒ She doesn’t want to because she’s independent. She wants to feel whole with just herself.

Xtra ⇒ Loves when her cats or dogs cuddle up towards you. It shows that they trust you and love you. She thinks that it’s the biggest accomplishment someone could have.

Yuck ⇒ Probably being a perfectionist. She will not stop doing something until it’s perfect and up to her standards.

Zzz ⇒ Likes to have the animals near or on your bed. It makes her feel like a little family.

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miss-bvnny · 2 years

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It's my birthday so I can finally be cringe legally. So, here's some bits and pieces of something that I've been playing with off and on since about June. As I sit here and finish off the last of my birthday sushi, I ask myself what I'd regret more: NOT sharing something I'm admittedly proud to have slaved over played around with for the last few months, OR the fact that this basically spells out how I'm a LeFou stan. Oh well. There's only one way to find out.

''One evening, whilst being dragged along on a hunting trip with his self-absorbed meathead of a stepbrother, LeFou gets lost and ends up at a mysterious castle forgotten by time, hiding a secret far more mysterious and peculiar than anything anyone's seen before. But at the same time it is, in every way possible, a tale as old as time.''

There's a whole lotta words to be said about all of this junk, so I'll put it under a readmore for the convenience of all. Please don't be mean to me about my interests.

Sketches 1 and 2 - First (Left) and final (Right) pass of Beast!Nicole

I was very tense in life and about this entire idea when I first started to dip my toes into it, and that definitely translates into my first try at drawing Beast!Nicole. Much like the Beast in the original 1991 Disney classic that has luckily never been turned into an ugly abomination of a live action cash grab remake, I tried to mix several animals in her design. She's got the lower half and tail of a wolf, upper torso of a lion, and her head...where it gets messy. I've always loved the designs of the hyenas in The Lion King, so I drew inspiration from Shenzi for her neck and part of her head. Her mouth/muzzle however is based on some of those cursed photoshops of horses with wolf teeth:

I can remember I'd JUST come back from seeing a special showing of Kung Fu Panda 2 the morning I drew the very first one of Nicole, and I've always LOVED Boss Wolf. I think you can see just a BIT of inspiration from his body shape looking at her. It probably comes across a bit better in the final when I cleaned her up somewhat. I hate looking at that first one so much, actually. It's so unforgivably clunky. BUT I did get the hang of her with time, hence the second pass. Wanna know a fun fact? Those colors were originally just something I kinda slapped together as placeholders. But...I grew pretty attached to them, so they stayed. There is...almost a month between her initial test and her final, btw.

Sketch 2 - Expression test/me having some fun

Yeahhh there was a time when I had no idea how far I was gonna actually try and go with this stuff, so I just kinda...played with it. Beast!Nicole is a treat to draw, so I jumped at any excuse to sketch her. Where the Beast in the movie had to learn to be bit more of a gentleman and control his temper, Nicole is...prone to impatience and outbursts under extreme stress. In this AU, she was forced to take the throne at a young age after the death of the previous king and queen. Going from a teenager to a ruler almost overnight weighed heavily on her, and she's got a short fuse. The night o the party in which the enchantress cursed her was a result of her breaking down and not thinking. I know there's debate in some places about whether or not the enchantress was right to curse an 11 year old prince for denying entry to a stranger, so...I tried to make this version a bit more...ambiguous on who's at fault. Maybe Nicole was being hasty, and maybe the enchantress was wrong to condemn a teenager to Eternal Fursuit just for trying to abide by stranger danger rules. IDK.

Side note - I can't help but imagine that in her Beast form, Nicole sounds like April Winchell. Think prime angry Sylvia from Wander Over Yonder.

Sketch 3 - Smiledog.jpg ''And give him an elegant, ladylike smile!!''

I wanted her to be unsettling. LITERALLY so unsettling. She;s got a horse mouth with canine teeth, I can't imagine that puts a warm feeling in anyone's heart at all. I also just really wanted to redraw that smile scene as an excuse to draw a lot of teeth.

Remember how I said Nicole's got BAD trust issues? Most of that comes from the memory of having suitors, possible consorts, and foreign princes trying to woo and flirt. They were suffocating, and it left her with a lot of lasting bad impressions. Wouldn't call it outright sexism on her part, just...caution based on experience. To the point where the rest of the enchanted objects heard that only true love's kiss could break the spell and they all went ''Hahaha we are so fucked'' Took them forever to even begin to fathom the idea that this LeFou guy MIGHT maybe be the one to break it???

But...in the end, they work together because...they're not typical of what the world expects from them. In MY headcanon, which ignores and disowns any and all alleged ''Live action remakes from 2017'' that may or may not include ''Josh Gad'', LeFou is Gaston's yougner step brother. A headcanon, I might add, that was inspired by @wreckham and their Balto rewrite where Star is Steele's younger brother. What does that have to do with Gaston and LeFou? Well:

A weird hill to die on headcanon-wise, but I'll take it. Anyway, Nicole is a huge terrifying beast. A practical manifestation of how awkward and out of place she felt as a young princess trying so hard to fit into a role she ascended to before her time (Honestly, Nicole is just Twilight Sparkle's bookworm tendencies and lack of social skills mixed with the intimidating aura of Vitani and Sergeant Calhoun. Kiiiiind of a mess). She isn't small and lovely and fair like a young princess should be. MEANWHILE, LeFou is the young brother to the ''town hero'' and...that's kinda hard to measure up to. He's not the huge hulking man that's traditionally sought after. *COUGH* *COUGH*

They sort of...find a connection over this topic. Nicole likes him because he's nothing like the rich stuffed shirts that always flexed their looks and wealth to try and win her heart, and LeFou likes that she doesn't care if he's not a big and tough guy. Every Furry girlboss needs a short king.

Sketch 4 - ''THAT HURTS!!''

TBH the thing about this was...there WERE a few scenes I felt...REALLY obligated to try. The Ballroom scene WAS one of those, but unfortunately you won't see that one, since its over tumblr's photo size limit. Kinda happy about that, since it looks...less than great. Where was I? Oh yeah. Uhhhh this is one of my favorite scenes from the movie so I ABSOLUTELY wanted to give it a shot with these two. Sketches 4-6 are all drawn directly into screenshots from the movie because I was NOT about to try and redraw those backgrounds. God this movie is GORGEOUS but soooo intricate and i am only a little creature who scares easily. Also, I had OTHER things that were hard to draw that I was more focused on. Wanna know what those things were?! LEFOU. I don't know if I'm bad at diverse faces or maybe he's just genuinely a little tricky, but GOD I still have a hard time drawing him. Assume every sketch of LeFou here in this post took me three hours minimum. That's why most of these are of him and Nicole. My deal with myself was that if I at least gave him a good college try, I could ALSO have fun drawing Nicole, who is WAY easier. I mean I'm...getting a LITTLE better at him, but still. He was NOT east the first few times.

Nicole's snarly face in this one was so fun to draw. I looked at a lot of Nala during the chase scene with Pumbaa, and Sabor fighting Tarzan to get her teeth right. Hilariously, I also looked at Steele.

Sketch 5 - ''It's obvious there's a spark between them..''

''You are a strange sight

Some new kind of wonder

With good hidden under

I'm sure that it's true.''

A theme song??? Is for me??? Is for my silly little drawings???

Sketch 6 - Nicole's hour in the fursuit is over

THat's right I KEPT her in the dress for the final fight in this AU. Why??? I DON'T KNOW I wanted to. Maybe it was a reference to the ''running from a T Rex in high heels'' scene in Jurassic World. Maybe it was me trying to convey how Nicole has finally come to own the ''princess'' she never thought she could be. I DON'T KNOW. OH. and by the way. her dress is loosely inspired by the one @Johannathemad drew here

Sketch 7 - A most peculiar Mademoiselle

I was looking at these by @davidgilson and they were SO cute I....KINDA wanted to give something similar to it a shot. That tiny LeFou is going to make me fucking scream he is SO small

You guys wanna know a really embarrassing fact? So...LeFou is voiced by Jesse Corti, right? Who ALSO provided the signing voice for Charlie in All Dogs Go To Heaven 2. So....AHEM and COUGH maybe Ive been listening to these a lot while I draw LeFou and Nicole. What of it.

Um....that's all for now, but....Hopefully there might be some more on the horizon. I've been...kinda burnt out and tired as a result of some work drama lately, but...I have more sketches and ideas with this AU I'd like to do. It's been...really fun to play with, honestly. i had a GREAT birthday tho, and...I think it was more than appropriate that I shared this today <3

#they most certainly do NOT have a theme song list. Why would you even ask that.#beauty and the beast #neato draws #neato fanart #neato ocs #BATB AU

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

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marathoning-barbie · 2 years

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Barbie in The Nutcracker (2001)

This was the very first movie in this franchise, and you can certainly tell.

Pixar quality this is not.

I should preface this by saying that I absolutely adored this movie as a child. It was not my absolute favorite, but probably in third place. Like all my childhood favorites, this was one of the reasons I was extremely obsessed with ballet as a child, and frankly secretly still kinda am. So does it hold up?

Yes! … Mostly.

This movie is a loose adaptation of the ballet The Nutcracker, telling the story of Clara and a prince-turned-nutcracker defeating the evil Mouse King. The actual similarities with the source material are few and far between, but perhaps I should note now that I generally do not care much for accuracy when it comes to adaptations like these. As long as the basic building blocks are there and the movie still works by itself, it’s fine. There certainly is a level of inaccuracy where even I have to complain (hint hint, you’ll see that in the next review), but every single change this movie has made is, in my opinion, a good one. The ballet is basically just one act that is the beginning scene of this movie, and then one act of partying, which wouldn’t have made a particularly great movie. So let’s get on with it then.

This is the movie of Clara, who lives with her younger brother at their grandfather’s house. For Christmas, she is gifted a wooden Nutcracker in the shape of a man by her visiting aunt. That night, her house is invaded by an army of mice, led by the Mouse King, who puts a spell on her that shrinks her to the mice’s size. She has to travel to the land of Parthenia after she is cursed to be tiny by the Mouse King, together with the suddenly-alive Nutcracker to find the Sugar Plum Princess, who may help them defeat the King and break the spells put on them. The Nutcracker is revealed to actually be Prince Eric, a human man and the long-lost heir to the throne of Parthenia, cursed into this form by the Mouse King. They manage to defeat the King by themselves, and it turns out that Clara was the Sugar Plum Princess all along. Even though she wants to stay in Parthenia, she is forced to return home and at first is led to believe that everything that happened was only a dream, until the real Prince Eric visits her at home and they share a dance together.

So, you really can’t talk about this movie without bringing up the animation. Yes, it’s bad. A lot of the characters are pretty ugly (the Nutcracker is the only one that really holds up, but he does hold up pretty well) and the environments aren’t that nice-looking either. That being said, I don’t care too much for it (though it does make it hard to enjoy the pretty gif sets sometimes). This was 2001 and pretty low-budget, and who knows how much money they spent on Tim Curry or the mo-cap dancing (which is fantastic, by the way). The original Toy Story frankly also doesn’t look amazing anymore, and Pixar definitely had a way higher budget.

The first thing that really got to me was how slow the start of the movie is. Despite my immense nostalgia, I really struggled to stay interested during the beginning. The really ugly pink/red overtone in the scenes in Clara’s home certainly doesn’t help.

I think it was supposed to make the environment look warm and homely, but I just felt like my retinas had somehow been burned out right before I started the movie.

In addition, wow, something was off with the sound. There are scenes that feel incredibly awkward and silent, and I’m pretty sure what I was noticing was a noticeable lack of background music and/or good sound effects in certain places. I’ll fully admit that I’m not an expert and maybe I’m blaming the sound design/mixing when it was actually something different, but this is the only movie that has this problem and this was the only difference I could pinpoint.

With all the negative stuff out of the way, the movie picks up hard as soon as they get to Parthenia. The sound problem persists, but things actually get a little more interesting, and we get rid of the pink filter of death. I also have to admit that watching every character they come across absolutely roast the shit out of Prince Eric while he just kind of has to stand there and take it is way funnier than it has any right to be.

tfw the little boy in a gingerbread costume just called you a bitch-ass motherfucker

One plot point that really surprised me upon rewatch was how early Clara called out the Nutcracker’s identity. At that point, we had already met a few of the side characters, and we got to see him reacting somewhat gloomy whenever they complained about Prince Eric. I absolutely expected the movie to try and treat him actually being the guy as some kind of super secret twist because sometimes kids’ movies just are like that. Instead, it’s revealed around 25 minutes in by Clara going up to him and basically saying “Sooo, you’re Prince Eric, right?” Maybe I’ve just watched too many bad children’s movies, but I appreciated the writers respecting the viewers enough to not genuinely expect them to be absolutely stupid, even if the movies are made for little kids.

The voice-acting is generally great. Kelly Sheridan makes her first appearance as Barbie and she is my absolute queen, and the late Kirby Morrow (RIP) brings a great gentle energy to the Nutcracker. He’s 100% my favorite character in this movie and also the best part of it. He’s charming, he’s genuinely very kind, and his grappling with his own responsibilities and mistakes is actually pretty interesting. In short:

Unfortunately, this movie does have that “Beauty and the Beast” effect of growing so attached to a character’s design that it feels jarring when he’s suddenly human again and looks incredibly different. It doesn’t help that Prince Eric the Human looks like he was designed by having an AI create a Sims3-era Sim with no instructions other than “man”.

Oh, obviously I can’t bring up the voice acting without mentioning Tim Curry as the Mouse King. I don’t know if he’s cheaper to get than I assume or if Mattel really wanted a recognizable name for their villain’s voice actor. Needless to say, he’s fantastic, and he makes the Mouse King a lot of fun to watch.

Now, one thing I’m kinda iffy on is the ending. “It was all a dream” is an extremely tired trope, and “It was all a dream, but actually it wasn’t" is only slightly less tired. I was also honestly hoping for a slightly more ambiguous ending, but then my hopes were crushed by Eric handing her the locket and basically confirming everything was real.

To elaborate, I think her just waking up without Eric showing up again would have probably been too sad for a movie whose main demographic is going to be very young girls, and I don’t think I would’ve liked it either. I do think it could’ve been more interesting though if they hadn’t made it completely obvious that this is indeed the same Prince Eric and her “dream” was real. I mean, it still would have been fairly obvious without the locket, but I think it could’ve been ambiguous enough to spur on some heated playground discussions if Clara just has very strange clairvoyant dreams. Maybe I’m off about this, maybe it would have been worse than I think, but hey, adult me would appreciate it. As it is now, I’m just wondering if Prince Eric gave up his position as king again or if he’s somehow going to kidnap her back to Parthenia (again).

Overall, this was a nice watch, with a slight bonus for nostalgia and great music (only slight because it’s not actually an original soundtrack). This movie isn’t going to be in the great section of the ranking, but certainly still in the good part. Out of any of the first three, this is the one most likely to be moved up when we get further into the ranking. Oh, and I want to point out any and all gayness in these movies when I see it, so let me say that while there’s really no WLW stuff, Major Mint and Captain Candy are clearly married, and since to me all fictional characters are bi until proven otherwise, all of Barbie’s canon ships are bi4bi and you can't change my mind.

I mean, in hindsight I am somewhat unsure what to think about Captain Candy’s design. I don’t want to call it p̴̓̀̆̓̃̍͜r̵̟̠̭͈͑́̇̅̎o̵̗͇͓̫̜̐͠b̴͔̐̈́̈́l̶̰̅̈̓e̷̛͈̟̙̺̓̈̅͝m̶̧͈̭̯͔͉̓͑a̷͇̋͂̆̏t̴̪̬̤̊́̏́̒i̶̬̱̘̗̋̑͌̑͗̕c̵̱̳̟̄̓̈̇̐ͅ, but it certainly wouldn’t fly today. But also, wow, I completely missed the fact he literally has a rainbow feather(?) attached to his turban.

A little fruity, I gotta be honest.

Sadly, this movie already starts a tradition in this franchise which is going to get very, very annoying very soon: random little fairies, and animal sidekicks. I always hate the random pixie characters these movies have, and I also hate most of the animal sidekicks. Barbie actually didn’t have one in this movie, but the Mouse King’s bat henchman fills that role, and he’s only tolerable because he’s a villain and therefore allowed to be more fun.

Oh well, my hate of annoying animal sidekicks sure won’t bite me in the ass in the next movie already, right?

… Right?

#barbie #barbie nutcracker #barbie in the nutcracker #barbie movies #barbie movie review

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sneezefiction · 3 years

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attention

Miya Osamu x Reader

desc: you’re spending too much time fawning over a very fictional captain Levi and not enough time doting on your real boyfriend, Osamu.

a/n: @starrysamu dearest remy, this is for you. i only just found out that it’s your birthday and i felt like i needed to show my appreciation for you in a tangible way. this isn’t the best, but i laughed a lot while writing it, so i hope it’ll make you smile. so much love to you and happiest of birthdays!! you’re such a joy to speak with <33

warnings: mentions attack on titan (fictional deaths), language, suggestive towards the end

wc: 1.5k

---

“I bet you haven’t moved in hours.”

“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly.

Osamu stays silent for a moment, squinting judgmentally at you from the corner of the living room. He’s been standing there for ten minutes and you’ve not so much as acknowledged his existence. Granted, you already spent the entire morning with him, but you could at least greet him with your usual, “hey, babe.”

He’d even settle for a “what’s up, ugly” at this point.

However, your eyes are glued to the TV screen. Blue light and flashing colors reflect off of your skin while the blood-curdling screams of various animated characters fill the room. You gasp and a hand flies to your mouth. That’s the fourth time you’ve done that since he’d walked in the room.

Whatever it is you’re watching, your reaction seems reasonable. The show looks and sounds disgusting. Or at least to Osamu it does.

“You really should move around a little.” He coaxes, “You’re gonna cut off all your circulation.”

Osamu approaches the couch, but you continue to ignore him.

“Yeah, and?” you respond, eyes still fixed on the screen, “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

You reach for the remote and turn up the volume a couple of notches. His brows furrow in contempt. Now, this is just plain rude.

“Well, if you lose a limb, don’t come cryin’ to me.” He says flatly.

“I won’t…” you start, “but-“

You point to the screen, singling out a few characters being hunted by hideous and… very naked titans. Gross, Osamu thinks.

“-they might.”

If you were known to watch shows for the plot, he wouldn’t mind your series marathons all that much. But he knows you too well.

Osamu flickers his gaze to the TV and steps in front of the screen, intentionally blocking your view. It’s an attempt to steal your attention away from all of these fictional characters you claim to keep “falling in love with.”

You whine and tell him to “get his ass out of the way,” while craning around his broad shoulders to see. It’d be a shame to miss out on Levi Ackerman’s hella sculpted jawline, even just for a second.

But your efforts are to no avail. ‘Samu (his ass included) refuses to move away from the screen.

You breathe out a white flag of a sigh, slumping back into the couch in defeat. Though you’d planned on this being a solo watch party, you know that the only way to get what you want out of this situation (Levi screen time) is by appeasing your actual boyfriend.

“Whatever ‘Samu. Just join me already.” You huff out.

Tossing open your blanket for him, you pat the empty space expectantly. If you’re going to give him any attention at all, he’s obligated to at least keep you warm.

And he won’t lie, you look very comfortable.

Seeing you cozied up in his apartment and lazily splayed out on his couch has always made him melt a little. Osamu is just a bit domestic like that.

But if you’re just going to use his Netflix account to fawn over fake (albeit incredibly sexy) men, then he’s less than thrilled to have you sitting there alone. Any good boyfriend would be at least a little agitated… right?

So for the sake of reining you and your wandering mind in, he decides to plop down next to you. The whole couch sinks when he sits and you tilt into him like a planet gravitating toward the sun. A really obnoxious, show-interrupting sun.

Osamu snakes an arm around your back, pulling you into his chest, and turns his head toward the TV. All is calm as you get comfortable and adjust yourself against him... until suddenly the screen splatters red. His arm tenses against your waist and a frown forms on his face. Apparently, something or someone just bit the dust.

“What exactly are ya watchin’?” He asks, tone drenched in disgust.

You whip your head toward him, an eyebrow cocked and lips parted. You’re looking at him as though he’d just gone and grown a third eye or called your mom a hoe. In terms of drama, Osamu is beginning to think you might actually rival Atsumu.

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Do I look like someone who keeps up with anime?”

“Well… no,” you admit slowly, “but that’s got nothing to do with you not knowing about Attack on Titan. I bet even Kita has heard of it.”

You wait for recognition to flicker in his grey eyes at the mention of the anime’s name. Instead, he gives you his signature blank stare. Should you be shocked or disappointed? Which emotion would bother him more?

“Yeah, it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Have you been living under a rock?” You scoff, mouth still agape.

“No, but I basically live with you and that’s difficult enough.” He jests, poking you in the side.

His warm hands gives you a quick squeeze and you almost jump out of his hold. For someone who runs a restaurant, he’s got some well-toned arms. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to escape his grasp anytime soon.

“No! None of that shit!” You hiss as he tries to tickle you. “You’re just trying to distract me.”

Your back curls like a cat and you bat at his hands to abate any further pokes or prods. He only chuckles, smirking at your feeble attempts to stop him. You were the one provoking him in the first place, but he’ll let it slide just this once.

When Osamu no longer seems like a threat to your ticklish sides, you nestle back into him. Your hand rests lightly on his chest and your head finds a soft-ish spot on his shoulder.

Feigning a pout, you mutter, “Captain Levi wouldn’t treat me like this.”

He’s quick to respond.

“Well, Levi-” the name sounds uncharacteristically bitter as it leaves his lips, “-wouldn’t treat you like anything, sweetheart. Sorry, but he ain’t real.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Osamu beats you to it.

“And judging by the rate these people are dyin’, he probably won’t last long enough for you to even mentally date him.”

“Don’t underestimate me and my mental dating abilities, ‘Samu.” You warn, “Or Levi. He could totally beat your ass.”

With perfect timing, Levi makes an appearance, striking a lethal blow to another one of the babbling giants. Two giants. Now four of them. Okay, he might’ve spoken too soon.

“Mm… maybe. But he probably couldn’t put up with all of your bullshit. This Levi kid seems like a bit of a hardass,” Osamu responds after a few minutes of transfixed silence.

You jut your lip out, sinking further into the couch, “Crush my dreams, why don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes in response.

“But,” you continue, “you’ve gotta admit, he is attractive. I mean, just look at those eyes. That body, too…” you breathe.

You swoon and tease and clutch at your heart, but it’s all an act to get under ‘Samu’s skin. He is your number one, after all. Teasing is just a part of your relationship and you would try to milk it whenever you could.

However, you don’t get a verbal response from him this time. He just tightens his hold around you and buries his nose in your hair. Warm breath tickles your scalp and trails across your skin.

Is he pouting? Or is he finally watching the show without adding commentary to it? You can’t tell the difference.

Osamu stays like that for a moment and you revert your attention back to the screen, intent on catching the last couple minutes of this episode.

Though you hardly have a chance to re-invest yourself before Osamu is speaking again.

“Well, I’m just glad he’s behind a TV screen,” he sighs against your head, “and-”

A smirk works its way onto his lips and Osamu begins circling a thumb on your exposed thigh. Your breath hitches and you turn to face him. His fingers press against your skin and play at the hem of your shorts.

The warmth of his hand sinks deeply into you like poison. In a matter of seconds, you’re at a loss for words, rendered unfit for battle… even if that battle is just teasing the ever-living shit out of him.

Thoughts of the show, of Levi, of other fictional men, are long gone from your mind.

Damn him for still having this effect on you after all this time.

“-judging by the way you can’t keep your hands off of me-“

He glances at your hand, which is resting delicately on his abdomen. You’re pressed up tightly against him, tucked into his side and looking up at his face which seems dangerously close to your own. Then his eyes, heavy-lidded and a shade of grey far prettier than Levi’s, flicker down to your lips.

Your skin flushes hot and you grip the fabric of his shirt.

“-I’d say you’ve gotta be at least half as into me as you’re into general Levi or whatever the hell his name is,” Osamu murmurs, his breath fanning gently on your lips.

He leans in, planting a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth, effectively teasing the delicate skin.

With one calloused hand on your face and the other still stroking your thigh, you feel your mind going fuzzy. This was escalating much faster than you’d expected it to and you haven’t even had the chance to pause your show.

You glance over to the TV... and heaven seems to be shining down upon you. It’s the blessed Netflix “are you still watching” screen; your show is perfectly paused. Now you can focus on what’s right in front of you.

Osamu finally has your full, undivided attention. Just as he should.

“Just for the record, it’s captain Levi.” You whisper to him.

“Oh, shut up.” He says before crashing his lips into yours.

You do, in fact, shut up.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu miya #osamu #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #inarizaki #miya twins #remy <3

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I LOVE your writing!! may I request something for modern! Muriel where he goes to a school, never talks to anyone and maybe still lives in a hut, so he doesn’t really know all the modern stuff. He sees the MC (fem would be nice) and develops a crush on her. One day he sits in like a library and he’s on his laptop and the poor guy just doesn’t know what to do with it, so the MC offers him help and he’s a big blushing mess. She invites him to come to her house to study and she has this small apartment with like lots of flowers and animals so he feels right at home and they talk about plants,animals and stuff? it’s so much I’m sorry, I thought it’s cute 🥺

awwwww omg thank you so so much! I’m still super surprised people like my writing and like me enough to follow just I love y’all.

So these are in headcanon form and I went a little wild. Also this counts as a little birthday present for @tabbybells since I thought of Bink and Muriel the whole time I was writing~ Lov u and your amazing artwork. You’re super fun and very sweet, if y’all have the time go check them out! Wonderful art of Muriel and a super adorable MC cat bastard named Bink. (there is a bonus with Bink and Muriel too after the other headcanons just for fun! Lmfao hope I got Bink right XD)

Muriel x MC modern au. Made it college, he’s a Veterinary Science Major MC is not specified with gender and major (you two have science classes together tho ;3)!

~~~~

Muriel is the more reserved student, SUPER DUPER smart and really good at what he does but more reserved

Hear me out here but: he has glasses. Thick black frames, he pushes them up his nose with his shoulder a lot when he gets distracted

He does struggle to use his new laptop because he was just fine with his old one until it broke on him.

You found this kinda funny. You’re studying in the library for a science test and this really big dude is just pouting at his laptop with the blue error screen

Of course this gets you out of studying so you go over to help him. At first he waves off your help, until you show him you have the same laptop and know what you’re doing

Then he gives in

“Good luck trying to fix this mess. Ugh my old laptop was better than this junk.”

...he had a 10 year old laptop that was the size of a brick and ran like a 94 year old woman with arthritis it was not better

He’s smart just not super tech savvy. Think ye old dad’s asking their kids for help with tech kinda not tech savvy.

It’s okay because he’s freaking adorable when he pouts over his laptop not working for the eight billionth time

You two start to chat a little bit after helping him boot up his laptop, and it’s goodbyes from there when you’re done

But he started going to the library pretty often after that in hopes of seeing you again

You come in every day to study and check out something new (or pester the librarians.)

So the two of you run into one another a bunch. Each time he has a new problem with his laptop (sometimes they’re real other times it’s an excuse to talk to you. O-Only to get help of course!)

Depending on you it might take a few days or a few months to catch on to his plan

And once you do, it makes you smile and laugh a little because gosh he is quite the dork

Of course you developed a little crush on him too during this time, but one day he comes in to actually study

You two have a science exam together to you invite him to come study over at your house

He tries to hide it but he lights up at the idea of spending more time with you, so of course he accepts (after...a moment of pretending to think about it. He didn’t want to seem too eager and scare you off)

When he first sees your apartment he’s....in shock to put it lightly

So. Many. Things.

He likes it a lot. The amount of animal stuff you have on your walls, plants hanging from the ceiling and a bunch on every window sill. Birds/cats/dogs/hamsters etc chattering around

It’s very bright and warm he feels at home immediately

You make warm drinks while he sets up in your living room, looking super large in this almost dollhouse couch and coffee table

It’s quite a sight, but he accepts the drink eagerly. You two study for a bit before the books get forgotten and you just...talk

About anything. Everything. The weather. Your classes. And it moves to animals.

He gets all excited and lights up when he starts talking about Inanna (met her injured in the woods outside of town when she was a pup. He nursed her back to health and she’s never left his side since)

When he talks about her he gets all animated and opens up a lot more. Still soft spoken and shy

If he notices you staring he’ll blush red and go quiet

But when you ask questions and ask for more stories he’ll slowly warm up to being animated again

You’re...really easy to talk to like this

When it gets late and he has to go home you kiss his cheek and send him off

Bright red he is.

But he can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

MODERN BINK AND MURIEL HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT. This is what im good at so Happy Birthday Tabby! 😎👉👉

Modern au Bink feels like a cat person to me. All the cats. Any cat he runs into he gets. House is filled with cats. It’s hilarious

Muriel calls him Grandma because of this. Bink in turn calls Muriel Grandpa due to his troubles with tech

Asra knits them both matching ugly sweaters

They wear them every time they see Asra

Bink and Faust have gotten into staring contests when they go over. Muriel finds them amusing and they can go on forever

Bink loses every time but he will not give up

“...you do know she doesn’t have eyelids right?” “I DON’T CARE I’LL BEAT HER”

Bink (to me) seems like a reigning champ of roller skating. Super graceful and finds it fun (gonna add Maeve in here real quick because this hit me: Bink and Maeve are the power couple of roller-skating.)

Muriel is uhh...not that. Clumsy, and VERY out of his element. Bink takes it upon himself to hold Muriel’s hand and guide him around

To outsiders it’s hilarious as Bink is 5′5 and Muriel is 6′10 and looks like he can bench press a truck

Muriel whittles Bink little presents and cat toys

He keeps the wooden animals on a shelf dedicated to them. You could map out their relationship through the wooden carvings.

Muriel lives on coffee. Bink is banned from drinking coffee

Asra has a polaroid camera and a cork board of pictures of Bink and Muriel

Faust and Inanna are good friends

Inanna and some of Bink’s cats are not friends

Inanna is banned from Bink’s apartment due to this fact

Bink and Muriel go on a lot of late night dates. They both like to nap with one another in a sunbeam on a couch

Muriel is the dad that passes out when he sits in a comfy chair. Bink is the cat that curls up on Muriel’s chest to soak in the warmth

Said cats will gather around them as well if they can

Asra has taken to calling them the oldest married couple

They are an old married couple, sinking into home like routine

Muriel carries Bink on his back when they go out into town because Bink does not want to walk

Bink and studying don’t go together well due to poor attention span (FAIR) Muriel has created a reward system for him (yes Muriel still has his glasses, and yes Bink steals them and wears them himself. yes he has gone blind in them. Yes Muriel has lecture him. yes Asra has a picture of this)

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #bink #muriel headcanons #the arcana headcanons #fluff #college au #Muriel is an old man #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TABBY!#friend's apprentices #mc x Muriel #muriel x apprentice #muriel x bink

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 24

--------------

2004

“We lay to rest a beloved member of the community. A mother. A friend. A daughter. A wife. Claudia Stilinski...” We stood on the lawn of Beacon Hills Memorial Cemetery, watching Aunt Claudia’s casket being lowered into the ground. She had been sick for so long and it was starting to turn ugly... But she was in a better place now, that’s what Uncle Noah said. When he spoke at least. I looked past the grieving people, like Ms. McCall, Scott, the entire police department, and looked at Stiles. He looked so tired. His cheeks were tear stained and his eyes were red from crying.

Once people started to disperse, my parents and I made our way over to Uncle Noah and Stiles. While the adults talked, Stiles and I just continued to stare at the grave. The grounds keepers were starting to cover her body with dirt.

“Do you want me to spend the night tonight?” I whispered, reaching over and holding his hand.

Stiles shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “I want to be alone tonight.” He gave my hand a squeeze.

“Wouldn’t tonight be the worst time to be alone?”

“I just want to be at home with my dad. I need some time for myself.”

“(Y/N).” We both turned at my father’s voice, “Let’s go, sweetie.” We both looked back at the grave.

“Okay. Well, call if you change your mind.” I gave his hand a squeeze before letting it slip away.

We got into the car, making our way back home.

“How you holding up, sweetie?” Mom turned back and looked at me over the sink.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” I said, looking out the window.

“Well, you don’t have to.” Dad said, “We’ll get into our pjs and watch Disney movies. You know how much Aunt Claudia loved Disney movies.”

I swallowed thickly, “Actually... I was hoping that I could go to see the Hales. If that’s okay.” Dad sighed loudly and mom smacked him subtly.

“Sure, baby.” Mom said, a sad smile on her face, “I’ll call Talia when we get home.”

When I was dropped off at the Hales’, Talia welcomed me with open arms, a blanket, and a hot chocolate. I guess what I needed was away from the whole situation. We played games, Laura braided my hair, we made friendship bracelets. At the end of the night, Laura and Cora had fallen asleep to the movie we had been watching and Derek had snuck us both onto the roof of the Hale house. We were on our back, looking up at all the stars in the sky and the moon shining down on us. We had been in silence for a while until Derek cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, uh, are you excited for high school next year?”

I sighed and shook my head, “After today? I don’t think I’ll be ready for anything.”

“Yeah...” He turned on his side to face me, “I’m sorry about your aunt. I know she was important to you.”

“Thanks...” I turned, “I guess I’m just kinda worried about everything. I don’t know what life is going to be like without her. And I’m worried about Stiles too.”

“I bet. I don’t know what I would do if I lost my mom.” He said. Then, he reached out and grabbed my hand, “Whenever you feel like this again, let me know. You can come over and we can do this again. Whatever you need, I’ll be there.”

I smiled, a slight blush to my cheeks that I really hoped was hidden in the dark, “Thanks, Derek.”

“Of course.” He smiled, “It’s what friends do.”

The communication with Beacon Hills was slim to none. And, ya know, that didn’t feel great. I understood that everyone was busy living their lives whether it was being a high school student or fighting supernatural beings or being a supernatural being or the sheriff in a town full of both. But unanswered texts and calls were starting to get to me.

The ones I got weren’t great either though. Stiles occasionally sent me a long email about the events that had happened since long distance calls weren’t in the phone plan.

I had learned more about the alpha pack - a blind one, a woman who could definitely use a manicure, a strong man, and twins who could morph into each other. I was almost a little happy I didn’t have to deal with that.

All the betas were missing except Isaac who had stayed behind. Even if he did get in trouble every now and then.

And then missing turned into dead. Hearing that Erica was dead really hit me hard. I barely knew the girl, a few moments and quick chats usually didn’t mean that much. But they found her locked in a closet, rotting. It was horrifying. She was a child. She was finally enjoying her life - a new life without seizures and bullying, her parents had taken her to get pictures taken; happy to see that their little girl loved herself for the first time. Now she was gone.

They found Boyd alive, thankfully. And surprisingly, they had found Derek’s sister: Cora.

Not forgetting that there were flocks of animals committing mass suicide and kids turning up murdered. It seems home is getting more and more dangerous. Not only was there an alpha pack but there was a creature called a Darach, a dark druid.

The leader of the alpha pack, Deucalion, was trying to get Derek to join his pack. He also wanted me to join as well, apparently he had been asking where I was. To join, he would have to kill the betas. Derek, who I’m sure was done being manipulated, refused. To keep him safe, Derek kicked Isaac out of the depot to live with Scott.

Speaking of dead...

Even thousands of miles away, the vision of falling three stories still hurt as much as if I was actually there. A battle between the alphas, Derek and Scott. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if Derek was alive or dead. Every little message I thought to him just echoed in my head. I had cried, tried forcing myself to work through it. But nothing really worked. I still woke up in the middle of the night, naked on the castle grounds having shifted my feelings or else I was instinctually trying to search for him. First it was anger, next it was denial, then more anger. And that was all just last night.

Hell, not even forgetting to mention the fact that the test Lachlan ran on me was a little more than just a blood panel. They checked for human chorionic gonadotropin hormone aka the pregnancy hormone. And things were just getting better and better. Because it was positive. I am pregnant. And the father may be dead.

Sending a preemptive long distance fee to Stiles’ PayPal account, I called the house phone. It didn’t have caller ID but it was something. Michael didn’t think it was a good idea, however, it was gonna be a cold day in Hell before I listened to his double agent ass. Lachlan thought I deserved closure. And I trusted him more.

“Stilinski residence.” Stiles’ voice was a little scratchy, but still loud and clear.

“Stiles, if you hang up on me I swear you will live to regret it. I still have access to your secret YouTube channel.” There was a pause on the other end, then a sigh.

“Hey (Y/N). I was wondering why I got an email from my PayPal."

"Is there a reason I've been on everyone's pay no mind list? Because it's starting to piss me off."

"Well... Derek said that we shouldn't worry about or get you stressed out."

"So not talking to me for months is supposed to help?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Uh... Ya got me there."

I groaned and started tapping my foot, "I just...." My mind seemed to go blank, my heart rate going up. That's not right. I wasn't doing anything to make it spike like this.

"I know, I know. And I'm sorry, I wish I could contact you more. But there's a lot going on here with the alpha pack and Lydia and-and Derek-"

"Shit." I wheezed, sitting down on the bed. My body felt so warm and not in the way it normally would.

"Yeah I know, it's a lot right now-" His voice was drowned out by my senses taking over. It was the familiar warmth of intimacy. But not from me. It was Derek! He was alive. But he was with someone. And that someone-

He was kissing her. Touching her. His heart racing. Her touch set his skin ablaze and nothing else mattered. Not even the wounds on his body that nearly killed him. But all that mattered was her intoxicating touch. The touch of a woman he didn’t know. But her whole being enveloped him.

I screamed loudly in anger, but behind that anger was so much pain. My chest ached and felt like it was being pulled across the world. I dropped the phone, holding my chest.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" My breathing was erratic and my thoughts were going wild between what had just happened and what I was thinking and what I had to do from here. I felt so helpless and alone. What could I do?

Then... There was an answer. Maybe it was the stress? Maybe it was my raging hormones? But I had my answer.

I picked the phone back up.

"(Y/N)! Talk to me, what's going on?"

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, "Derek’s alive."

"He is?"

"But not for long." I hung up.

How dare he? HOW COULD HE? AFTER EVERYTHING WE HAVE BEEN THROUGH OUR ENTIRE LIVES AND HE JUST- JUST THROWS IT ALL OUT? And for what? Who could have been more important than me? I'm his stupid mate for Christ's sake.

But if he wants to sleep around?

Fine.

He could for the next thirteen hours. Because I'm going back to Beacon Hills for the soul purpose of ripping his heart out like he did mine. And if this emotional trauma affected my child? Well, there were repercussions for that too.

Michael and Lachlan were in my room, watching me as I threw together a bag to take on the plane. Remarkably, as a member of the Lunar Circle I would get free airfare courtesy of Lachlan mostly because the guy was insanely rich and he agreed with my revenge plot, for the most part.

"Okay, let's think rationally here." Michael said, taking things out of my bag as I was putting them in, "He's a total douche bag for doing this. We all agree. But in your state, I don't think you should fly. I mean anything could happen."

"I can fly until I'm thirty-six weeks along." I said curtly, grabbing my things out of his hands and putting them back in the bag.

"Come on, think about what you're doing-"

"I have thought about it. And I'm going to kill him."

Michael looked back at Lachlan who had his arms crossed over my chest, only observing.

"A little help here, Praetor McLeod?"

Lachlan shrugged, "Seems justified to me."

"Murder? Murder seems justified to you." He asked incredulously.

"It's the werewolf way." Lachlan said simply.

"Thank you, Lachlan." I smiled.

"Anytime."

"Okay, what about this?" Michael stood in front of my path to my bag, "Murdering him seems like a great idea right now, I totally get it. But-but if you do that, it will weigh heavily on your conscience."

"The Lunar Circle has excellent insurance, including therapy." Lachlan chimed in.

I moved Michael out of the way, "Duly noted."

Michael sputtered, "And-and your baby? What about your baby? That's their dad."

"Their dad who decided to stick his penis in another woman." I raised my eyebrows at him, "That one? Yeah, what a stand up guy."

“But you love him. Don’t you think killing him-”

“Michael!” I slammed my suitcase shut, “Shut up.” I turned and faced both of them, “You’re right, okay? I do love him, which is the worst part. I hate him so much but I still love him. I dedicated my life to him and I thought he had dedicated himself to me. I was wrong.” I zipped the bag and made my way out the door, “I’ll be back at the end of the week.”

Getting on the plane didn’t take long. Relatively short lines, quick ticket, fast boarding. Like someone was looking out for me as I went to kick Derek's ass. Becoming alpha to Derek's pack was starting to sound better and better as the pain continued to radiate through my body. Eventually, I just felt numb.

The people on the plane were nice. I sat next to an older gentleman who slept for the most part so I could whisper profanities under my breath. The stewardess had been kind, making sure I had enough to drink. It seems someone had tipped them off I was pregnant, probably Michael. The guy had been a nervous wreck since he found out I was pregnant. He wouldn’t even let me train, not like he had much of a choice in what I did. But he sure knew how to annoy me out of a room. Lachlan had been supportive, talking about adding an additional room onto mine for a nursery. I told that it wasn’t necessary since I wouldn’t be staying in Scotland that long.

After the plane landed, I was met by a very tired looking Stiles. We didn’t speak much, just began the drive back home.

"So...." He swallowed, his eyes darted from me to the road ahead, "Pregnant," He chuckled nervously, "That-that's great! I'm so happy for you.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He was hesitating, he wanted to say something else, “Uh...Speaking of-” I groaned loudly, another lecture.

He ignored my dramatics, “Maybe you shouldn't kill him. That's not good for the baby..."

“It wasn’t good for the baby when he decided to take our bond, step on it and rub it in the dirt.” He was silent, but not for long.

"Yeah-but you see we kinda need Derek to help with some big bads. Like Deucalion and the Darach and ya know, other stuff."

"I remember you telling me about it. I tried to do some research but Lachlan said that we didn’t have too much information on them.”

“Well that’s not too helpful.”

We made it back to the house at sunset, which was perfect timing. The cover of night would be great to conceal me in the dark. Sure, he would smell my scent but he would have no idea where I was coming from. I pulled on the handle on the door but stared at it when it didn’t budge. Still locked. I looked back at Stiles. He looked tired, a wreck.

“Would you just... See dad before you cover yourself in blood? He was really excited to hear you were coming home.” Like he always seemed to be, Stiles’ was right. I should see Uncle Noah.

“I will. I need to rest anyway. Besides, I can’t kill him on an empty stomach.” I winked.

“You terrify me.” He unlocked the doors. We got out just in time for Uncle Noah to jog down the driveway.

“There she is!” He grinned, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tight.

“I missed you so much.” I said into his shirt, giving him a soft squeeze. He pulled away and looked over me, “Look at you.” He motioned to my stomach that looked more like I was bloated than a fetus growing inside of me, “This-this is... Mhm. Exciting!”

I chuckled, “Thanks. Very mhm.”

“Uh, you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Dinner had been extremely awkward, the conversation mostly coming back to the child growing inside of me. Lots of questions from both of them. Mostly how I hadn't called. In actuality I had called approximately twenty times a day with no answer from anyone per Derek's request. Unfortunately for him, his requests were now being put on the back burner. I excused myself to my room.

My room was kept the same, I'm certain no one had been inside besides Uncle Noah. And from the ruffled blankets, maybe Stiles. Back when we were kids, we used to sneak scary movies and had to sleep in a huddled pile because we were too scared to sleep by ourselves.

I grabbed a jacket and opened up my window, I was half way out of it when my door opened. Stiles stood in the doorway. We stared at each other for a minute.

“I may regret saying this one day because I don’t care for Derek, but don’t kill him.” He said, “Kick the living shit out of him, sure. Get in a few punches for me. But don’t kill him. We need him.” Of course, all it took was Stiles to talk me off the murder-ledge.

“I won’t kill him.” I smiled, “I’ll be home soon.”

Odds are, with the alpha pack threat Derek will have the depot protected. What he failed to remember was that the most dangerous being in the world had a key to every place in the depot. I simply walked in the front door. Almost like he was expecting me.

His scent was so strong, like the forest after it rained. It made this ball of emotion well up in my chest bringing me back to all the love and memories we had shared together. Not all the memories were life and death. They weren't all fights. Some days, Derek and I would curl up and bed and never leave, only grabbing food here and there. His smile would light up his whole face, sometimes it would even reach his green eyes and make them sparkle. When he would nap, he would lay his head on my chest and sleep, like he was finally at peace with himself and the world. That was the person I loved.

I walked through the main room at the depot, getting to the stairs. The worst part here was the pictures, us together, the pack. I want to make the depot less abandoned and more homey for the betas to have a place to go and relax. Some of the pictures had turned heads at the photo developing counter (but I had managed to convince them that it was for a theater class). The worst part was that on my way here Boyd had been killed. If only I had been here soon, if only I had been here at all. Only two of the pack remained, Isaac and Jackson who was no longer a killer lizard thanks to Lydia. Say what you will about Peter Hale but sometimes he knew what he was talking about.

If Derek knew I was here, he hadn’t tried to make a move. Smart.

After wandering a bit, I finally decided to face the music. I found him hunched over his desk in the main office room. Rain was dancing against the fluorescent lights from the street lamps down below. He hadn’t looked up at me the whole time that I walked up to him. He felt defeat and alone. He had lost everything. He was looking down at his desk, his hands laced together. He looked up slightly, more looking at my shirt than my face.

“I...” His voice was soft and quiet, something unlike the loud, booming man I was used to, “I messed up.”

“Yeah, you did.” It was silent for a moment, then he spoke again.

“Who’s with you?” He asked, his eyes scanning the room.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “No one.”

“Then why do I hear another heart-” His eyes widened. He stared directly at my stomach. I thought I almost saw his ears perk up.

“Are you...”

“I am. I’m having a baby. Emphasis on the ‘I’m’.” I really hadn’t wanted to do much talking, I really hadn’t planned on saying anything besides obscenities and screaming at him. He stood up from the desk and quickly came around, he reached his hand out towards my stomach but I smacked it away.

“You have no right to touch me. Especially when I can still smell her stench on you.” I scrunched up my nose and sneered.

“Look,” He licked his lips, “I can’t give you a good answer or an excuse-”

“Good, because I don’t want one.” I glared.

He looked at me a moment then continued, “I don’t know why I did what I did. Something just came over me. Please tell me you believe me.” He put his hand on my shoulder.

He really should have taken a lesson out of his own book. With amazing speed, I grabbed him by the throat and threw him across the room. When he landed, my features shifted and my eyes glowed red. He groaned, holding at his waist. That’s where he had been injured in the alpha fight, it had healed but it was still sore.

“I don’t want your apologies.” I growled, walking towards him, “I want you to feel what I felt. The pain and the suffering. The violation...” I chuckled darkly, “You know that I felt her hands on you? Touching the most private parts of your body that only I was supposed to feel. Do you know how disgusting I felt afterwards? I felt used and dirty and it wasn’t even my body.” I stepped on his chest with my boot to keep him down on the ground. He still wasn’t looking at me. I snarled, grabbing him by his shirt and shoving him against the concrete pillar he landed on.

“Look at me!” I roared, “You broke me into a million little pieces. You didn’t answer my calls.” I punched him.��

“You kept me hidden in the dark about Erica’s death.” I hit him again.

“You wouldn’t let my family communicate with me and when they did they couldn’t even tell me everything that was going on. I was begging to hear from someone, anyone, I was all alone!” I threw him across the room.

“You blocked my number two months ago.” I stalked over to him, ignoring the tears running down my face, “I couldn’t even hear your voice on your goddamn voicemail!” I got down on my knees and grabbed his chin so that his eyes met mine.

“LOOK AT ME!” I screamed, “Look what you did to me! For months you’ve been using our bond for your own strength, strength that used used to heal and have sex with another woman!” My voice was starting to crack as all the things I had thought about were coming out, “See how much my heart broke when I felt how happy you were with someone other than me.” He was finally looking at me. The worst thing though was that his eyes were full of so much love for me, that special twinkle that Peter said only happened when he looked at me. I wasn’t angry anymore, I was devastated.

“I came here to kill you.” I sniffled, my features shifting back to normal, “I wanted to tear your heart out. But I can’t... I can’t because I love you and I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I shouldn’t have hurt you, but I want to because of what you did.” As the anger fogged cleared, I realized that I was just as bad as he was.

“You had every right to hurt me-”

“No, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I’m sorry.” I looked down at my hands, “I felt so out of control. I thought I was getting better at it.”

“You were.” Derek sat up slowly, “It’s the baby. All of your emotions are going to be heightened. More than usual.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I made my way towards the exit, not caring that he was calling after me, running to catch up to me. I just left him there. Even when I got home and he tried to get into my window, I just ignored his pleading. What I did wasn’t right, I shouldn’t have hit him or punched him. I was just so angry and that anger clouded my vision.

Weren’t we a pair - one cheats and the other goes into a blind rage. Perfect.

------------

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

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thicctails · 3 years

Text

Summer Of Whump Days 16 + 19 [Touch-Starved/Hope]

Happy Father’s Day! Have toothpick dad figuring out how to get his adike outta space prison.

Crosshair pressed his forehead against the wall of his bunk, gritting his teeth. His head was pounding, the ache radiating from the left side and seeping down through his skull and spreading into the rest of his mind. It had been a steadily building pain, starting when that damn animal had hit him with its tail. He’d dodged going to a medic, instead choosing to spend his free time trying to sleep the migraine off. So far, it hadn’t worked.

He pulled his pillow over his head when a slight ringing started to form in his ears. The sound grew and grew and grew, until all he could hear was the unyielding, skull-piercing ringing.

Then, silence.

Crosshair blinked.

It was like a huge drop of cold water had been dropped on him, shocking him back to reality. He sat up, running a hand over his face. The guilt and disbelief of his actions had him reeling for a moment. He’d almost killed his vod'ika, would have had Omega not sacrificed herself. He went a little pale at the memory of what state the girl had been in when they’d been picked up. Whatever had happened on that Jedi cruiser, it had been ugly, and he felt a ripple of burning shame rush through him when he thought about how much it must have hurt to stand in front of him like she had.

He slid off of his bunk, not bothering to grab his helmet. He needed to go see her, make sure her burns were getting properly treated. It had been a day and a half, had anyone gone to change her bandages? Checked in on her? Fed her? Likely not, as he seemed to be the only one here who understood how important it was for her to remain alive and healthy. That was still top priority, but now it was for different reasons.

He had to get them out of here, back to his vode and out of the Empire’s reach. Omega’s existence was proof that the Kaminoans had successfully managed to create an artificial Force-sensitive being, and the thought of them creating an army of Force-sensitive clones with inhibitor chips sent a chill down his spine.

No. He’d find a way out of this outpost and off of the planet before they were due to make the trip back to Kamino. He’d have to find a way to get the chip out, maybe go back to Bracca? Then he’d find a way back to his batchmates and they’d disappear. Good. Yes. Great plan.

Pausing, he stepped behind a wall as a group of troopers marched past. They had come from the direction of the prison cell. He scowled at them silently, fighting the itch to end their lives. He needed to be subtle, cunning, and stealthy, which meant he couldn’t let his temper flare up, lest he risk being discovered.

Once the coast was clear, he slipped out from behind the wall and approached the room door. He put in the password and stepped inside once the door slid open. His eyes widened upon seeing that someone new had been put into the cell. The kid was tugging at a thick, black collar, a red light blinking rapidly. He jolted suddenly, his muscles spasming as he was electrocuted.

“Cal!” Omega cried, reaching out to him. Her own collar began to blink rapidly, and she yelped when the same happened to her. Pillow, who was chained against the, was honking loudly, the sound sounding more like short roars now. He was the one to first notice Crosshair, and he snarled at the clone, his tail smashing against the wall. The stone cracked under the force, bits of the wall crumbling away.

“Shh!” He hissed, putting a finger up to his lips. “Do you want to get into even more trouble?”

The two children gasped when he spoke, their eyes widening in fear. The boy, named Cal, apparently, glared at Crosshair. He moved in front of Omega, shielding her as best he could. His collar beeped, but not enough to activate the electric shock. Omega peered at him, her large brown eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Crosshair?” She asked, her voice sounding strained. The collar was probably pressing against her already bruised throat.

“It’s me, ad’ika.” He said softly, kneeling down. “I’m back, at least for now.”

Omega brightened, her face splitting into a wide grin. She shuffled forward, but the other kid remained firm. He didn’t move from his spot, and Crosshair could practically feel the anger and mistrust rolling off him in waves.

“How do we know we can trust you?” He snapped.

“You don’t, but you’re going to have to.” Crosshair replied. “We need to get out of here. Fast. A transport vessel will be here before the week is out, and we need to be gone before that happens.”

“Well in case you haven’t noticed,” Cal pointed to the collar on his neck, “we’re kinda trapped here. These collars shock us every time we try and use the Force.”

“And Pillow is stuck over there!” Omega chimed in, gesturing to where said amphibian was straining against the short chain that was keeping him trapped. “We can’t leave without him!”

Crosshair hummed, peering at the collars. There was a small slit on each one, a lock that would need a certain key card to open. A key card that he didn’t have.

“I’ll find a way to get those off. Until then, try to refrain from getting electrocuted.” He said, standing back up.

A small growl sounded out, and Omega looked at her stomach in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I haven’t eaten since…” She brought a hand to her chin. “Just over two days ago, I think? The last thing I ate was a ration bar on the ship before we got to Bracca.”

A memory flashes through his head. He’s young, still learning how to fight, and he and his brothers have failed a test. They end up not being given rations for the day. He remembered it being especially hard on Hunter and Wrecker, who even at that age, burned more calories that the rest of them. He remembered feeling sluggish and unusually weak, his stomach growling like a wild animal as it ate away at itself. They had all felt miserable, and it had served as a good motivator to not fail next time.

Crosshair growled, the sound reverberating in his chest. “These animals- I’ll be back in a moment. Remain here.” He spun around and stomped back out of the room.

“We don’t have a choice!” Cal called, huffing when the door simply slid shut. The freckled boy turned to look at Omega. “Do you really trust him?”

Omega nodded. “He’s not a bad person, he was just being made to do bad things.”

Cal sighed and gave her a slight smile. “Okay, if you say so.”

Crosshair returned about a half hour later, a bag slung over his shoulders. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel, locking the door before moving deeper into the room. Omega looked up from her place on the floor, gritting her teeth when as she sat forward. Cal was sat next to her, the two of them having moved over to where Pillow was. The pale creature was sleeping, forced to rest sitting up due to the chain on the wall being attached to his muzzle. Crosshair gave Omega sympathetic look, kneeling down again so that he was closer to being eye level with her and Cal.

“Okay adike, lets get some food in you so you don’t end up looking like me.” He joked, reaching forward and unlocking their cuffs.

He reached into the bag and produced two wrapped squares, passing a sandwich to both kids. Omega thanked him excitedly and quickly took the offered food. Cal hesitated, but in the end his hunger won out. He cautiously took the sandwich, softly uttering his thanks. Omega and Cal took a minute to rub their sore wrist while Crosshair carefully unclipped the band around Pillow’s muzzle.

Pillow’s eyes opened, eyeing Crosshair as he tossed the metal band aside.

“I’ll need to put that back on before I leave, but I’ll try to loosen it.” He said.

Violet orbs bore into him for a moment, flicking between him and the now ravenously eating children, before Pillow’s head swung towards him. Crosshair flinched a bit, but calmed when Pillow merely rubbed his head against Crosshair’s chest, a deep, rumbling purr sounding out. It seemed that his actions had earned him forgiveness. That would make things easier.

While Omega finished off her sandwich, he dug into the bag and retrieved a roll of gauze, a container of warm water, a clean cloth, and a container of bacta, setting them down on the floor. He retrieved two bottles of cool water and handed them over to Cal and Omega.

“Here, drink this. Omega, come here so that I can change your bandages.” He said, grabbing a numbing shot from the bag.

Omega gulped down her water, cringing when Crosshair stuck her with the needle. After the numbing liquid had set in, he went about unwrapping Omega’s bandages. He sighed in relief upon spotting no signs of infection. With a gentleness that he didn’t know he still possessed, he soaked the cloth in the warm water and cleaned her wound. The skin had already started to scar, and since most of the tissue had been too damaged to regrow, the scar would be rather large. As he gently dabbed the burns, he noticed something odd. Small, circular scars covered Omega’s back, some not even fully finished scarring. They were all the same size, and they were perfectly spaced. It looked as though someone had taken a small cookie cutter to her back.

Suddenly, he’s back in the medical ward on Kamino. A machine is whirring in his ears and the bright lights overhead are hurting his eyes. A sharp pain erupts from his left shoulder, and he turns to see a chunk of his flesh being sliced out of him. Later that night, he finds out that his vode all went through the same thing. Tech thinks that they want to find out if they’re as enhanced as they we’re designed to be. Apparently, they were, because they weren’t all euthanized within the next few days. Whatever they had been searching for, they’d only needed one sample to find it.

There had to be dozens on Omega’s back.

He suppressed a growing roar of rage that was bubbling up from his chest. He’d barely knew Omega, only having those brief moments with her before his chip had been intensified, yet he already knew that he’d kill for her. No child should ever have to endure something like that. He quickly applied the bacta, then re-wrapped Omega’s dressings. Once he was done, he fished another container out of the bag. Unscrewing the lid, he set it down in front of Pillow.

“It’s food. Eat it.” He commanded.

Pillow sniffed at the offered container, then started eating, chunks of meat being snapped up and gulped down. Omega laughed when Pillow pulled his face away and revealed that there was a piece of meat stuck on his nose. Cal reached over, plucked the chunk of meat off of the amphibian’s forehead, and tossed it up into the air. In a flash, Pillow snapped his jaws closed around it. He licked his teeth and flopped down next to Crosshair, staring up at him with his big, pleading eyes.

“No, that’s enough for you. It was hard enough sneaking that amount in here.” Crosshair scolded.

Pillow moved his head onto Crosshair’s knee, staring sadly at him as he sighed loudly. Crosshair sighed and reached back into the bag. He produced another sandwich and tossed it into Pillow’s open mouth. The white-scaled creature purred loudly and rubbed up against Crosshair, knocking him over onto the floor. He laid his head down on the man’s chest, ignoring Crosshair’s protests.

“Get off me, you obese salamander!” He yelled, shoving Pillow’s head. Pillow merely snuggled down, rubbing his cheek against Crosshair’s armor.

“Looks like he wants you to stay.” Cal piped up, taking a sip of his water.

“Well I can’t. I need to locate the key to those collars so that we can get out of this dump.” Crosshair hissed, finally managing to wiggle out from underneath Pillow.

“Aw, but you just got here!” Omega said. “Do you have to go right away?”

“Unfortunately yes. Those troopers out there aren’t the most observant, but even they will notice my absence if I am gone too long.” Crosshair sighed. “Which means I need to put your restraints back on.”

Cal and Omega groaned, but put their wrists together regardless. Crosshair snapped the cuffs back on, giving the duo an apologetic look.

“I promise that once we’re out of here, none of you will spend another minute in shackles.” He said, looking between Pillow, Omega, and Cal. “Now, I have to go. I need to do some stealth work and find out where the key card to your collars is.”

“Be careful Crosshair.” Omega said, her eyes full of worry.

He nodded and stood, grabbing the bag and heading out the door.

It took five days for Crosshair to locate the key card, and another whole day for him to manage to steal it. Throwing his bare essentials into a bag, he slung it over his shoulder and stalked out of the room. The outpost was dark, the electricity out due to a growing storm taking out their generator. He was a predator here, prowling through the shadows, using his superior sight to navigate through the black. He passed troopers as he moved through the outpost, none detecting him over the howling wind and the sound of their own chatter.

Just as he’s about to reach the outpost’s makeshift prison, he overhears a conversation between two troopers.

“Is it true? Did they really make a clone that can use the Force?” One asked, leaning in close to his companion.

“Yeah, but it’s a weird little runty one. Kaminoans must’ve kriffed up while they were making it, I guess.” The trooper sneered. “Little shit’s too cocky for its own good. Hope they put it down once they’re done experimenting on it or whatever.”

In an instant, a flash of burning hot rage enveloped Crosshair. His hand found a vibroknife that he had stashed away in a hidden pocket. He pounced, gripping the trooper’s head and pulling it back, exposing his neck. The knife’s blade easily sliced through the man’s neck. He made sure that it was deep enough to kill but shallow enough to make it a slower death. While that wretched creature choked on his own blood, Crosshair swung the knife and plunged it through the other trooper’s visor, the sharp point piercing the man’s skull. He jerked the vibroknife free, fresh blood dripping off the blade.

His anger cooled a bit, and he made his way to the cell door. The door was running on emergency power, and he had to sever that connection to get the doors to open. Inside, he could see the rapidly blinking lights of the two Force suppressant collars, the red glow highlighting the faces of Cal and Omega. Omega’s face was buried in Cal’s chest, the young clone quivering. A clap of thunder rang out, the sound louder than it would be on most planets. It made her squeak in fear, and she shuffled even closer.

It was so easy to see Hunter in Omega’s place. Back when they were still cadets, his vod had hated the storms on Kamino, his sensitive hearing being battered by the roaring thunder that made itself known every other week or so. So every time there was a storm and they were in their quarters, Crosshair and his vode would take all of their blankets and pillows and they’d create a little hiding spot for Hunter. Once he had curled up in the middle of the makeshift nest, they would cover him up until there was only a small hole left for air.

��Omega had no such luxury. She had no batchmates, a fact that hurt Crosshair on a deeper level, and thus was left to exist in a state of fear. The medical centers were tucked into the middle of Kamino’s bases, so Omega had probably never heard thunder this loud before. He crossed the room quickly, dropping to his knees when he heard Omega’s quiet cries.

“Come on, adike. It’s time for us to go.” He said, just loud enough to be heard above the fading rumbles. Pausing only to remove their restraints, he slipped tiny the key card into the small slits, ginning when the collars became slack and slid onto the floor.

In an instant, the two kids were locked in a tight embrace. They were both quivering now, and judging by how their hands were twitching more than the rest of their bodies, he figured that they were both currently using the Force. While they comforted each other, he set about freeing Pillow from his bindings. The amphibian nuzzled him, before starting to nose at his bag.

“Cut that out. There’s no treats for you in there.” He grumbled, pushing Pillow’s muzzle away. Darting back over to Cal and Omega, he extended a hand.

“Neither of you will be able to see until we get to the ship, so we’ll need to hold hands. We’ll be moving fast, so try your best to keep up.” He said, grasping Omega’s hand once he saw her reach out to him. With Omega holding on to him, Cal holding on to her, and Pillow bringing up the rear, the group escaped the room, Crosshair leading them out a nearby door and into the raging storm.

Bitter, biting wind whipped all around them, freezing cold rain drenching their clothes and causing Omega and Cal to slip more than once as they ran across the shipyard. More than once, Pillow had to keep Omega and Cal from getting tossed around by the storm while Crosshair dealt with a trooper or three. Finally, after a good half hour of sneaking and stealth killing, they made it to the ship Crosshair had chosen to steal. He ushered the kids on, wanting them out of the harsh storm. They were soaked to the bone, shivering with chattering teeth as they strapped in. Once everyone was secure, Crosshair fired up the engine, gripping the controls. The storm was so intense that there was a chance that it would mask their take off, but at the same time the fierce lightning that was building within the mass off clouds could send them plummeting down.

Crosshair gripped the controls tighter.

He’d get them out of this.

Crosshair chewed on a toothpick, his eyelids drooping from exhaustion. He’d found them a good hiding place, a heavily forested planet not too many light years from Bracca. He needed to contact his squad, find a way to convince them that he could be trusted once again so that he could get this damnable chip removed. He needed to do a lot of things, but for now he was content to simply take a moment to breathe.

Omega and Cal were asleep, dressed in uniforms that were far too big but would ultimately keep them warm and dry. The two were sleeping on the floor, a soft cushioning of bunk mattresses and blankets providing a comfortable place to sleep. Omega was half draped over a sprawling Cal, the young clone snuggling up to her friend. She’d fallen asleep easily, and the boy simply hadn’t had the heart to move and risk waking her. So there he lay, snoozing away with Omega holding onto him like her life depended on it.

A regular person might have been confused by her clinginess, but he understood completely. When clones were very young, they slept in piles with their batchmates. It provided a sense of security, lowered their stress levels, and helped forge an important bond. If your very purpose was to fight in a war with a group of people, you’d better be someone they’d fight to keep alive.

The Kaminoans had, at one point, tried to see if this behaviour could be stopped. They had forced a batch of clones to sleep apart from their batchmates, only allowing them to train and eat together. By the time they had reached adulthood, they had become noticeably different. They were anti-social, only called each other by their numbers, were completely out of sync in combat training and often acted aggressively. They snapped at each other and at the other clones, distancing themselves from the rest of their vode.

They’d all died in their first battle. The Kaminoans never tried the experiment again.

Omega had no batchmates, no vode to form a pile with. He wondered if the Kaminoans had tried to make more and Omega had been the only survivor, or if they simply hadn’t cared because she was never meant to be in a group. It didn’t really matter, he supposed, it wouldn’t change the fact that Omega had been missing out on a crucial part of growing up as a clone. However, it seemed that Omega had found someone to pile with in Cal, even if neither of them really understood what she was doing. Hopefully, it wasn’t too little too late, and she would grow up to be a well adjusted young lady.

Omega yawned softly in her sleep, shifting as she tried to find a more comfortable position. She repositioned herself so that her head rested on Cal’s chest, throwing an arm over the boy’s torso. Cal mumbled something incomprehensible and turned onto his side, pulling Omega into a loose hug as his blanket fell onto her. Omega smiled, eagerly nestling into the new warmth.

For the first time in years, Crosshair found himself aching for that comfort. He and Hunter had always been at the bottom of the pile, the close presence of their vode always being the one thing that could ease them into a peaceful sleep. In the pile, there were no harsh lights that signified the early start of a new day, nor the echoing roar of Kamino’s storms. There was only them and their brothers, safe and together.

He remembered the day they’d first been made to sleep apart. The noises and smells and brightness had made sleep impossible. Their room door had a crack at the bottom that always let in a bit of light, and to his advanced eyes, that little stretch of light had seemed like a kriffing sun to him. Only the threat of being separated from his batchmates for the whole day had kept him in his bunk. Once the morning lights had come on, he’d launched himself at his closest vod, which on that morning had been Wrecker. His second-eldest brother had pulled him into a crushing hug, and he had felt the wetness of tears on his shoulder. Any other time, he would have teased the larger clone for crying, but on that morning, he’d have been a hypocrite.

Maybe it was their enhancements, or maybe it was the fact that the other clones didn’t like them very much, but for some reason it took far longer for them to become acclimated to sleeping alone. After their first mission, they’d all started towards their own bunks, as they had been for months, when Wrecker had paused and asked if they would still be separated if they pilled together on the ship. They had all looked at each other, before instinctively turning towards Tech.

“I’m sure it’s against the rules, but…” He’d given them a small smile, “I won’t say anything if you all won’t?”

So they had thrown their mattresses together and had arranged a set up that resembled their old shared bed. They had grown at that point, but hadn’t quite reached adulthood, so Hunter and Crosshair could still sleep comfortably at the bottom. They’d slept better that night then they had in months. As time passed and they reached their maximum sizes, they began to sleep apart more and more. Crosshair and Tech especially had taken a liking to having some extra wiggle room, Tech for his tinkering and Crosshair because he was simply becoming more used to being apart than together. He was often far away from his vode on missions, providing them cover from a distance.

Hunter and Wrecker seemed less excited about sleeping by themselves, and both had trouble with sleep. Wrecker filled the void with a stuffed toy, one that his batchmates had made for him out of supplies they picked up on one of their earlier missions. Hunter simply carved the walls of his bunk or cleaned his weapons, exhausting himself so that sleep would come and take him into its sweet embrace.

He wondered if they’d even let him pile with them now.

The thought of being rejected from such a simple yet important activity had him feeling nauseous, and he shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. He didn’t deserve to share that closeness with them, not after all he’d done, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it. Curling up in the pilot’s chair, he let his eyes close, now painfully aware of how exposed and cold he really felt.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump[16]#summerofwhump[19]#omega bad batch #crosshair bad batch #crosshair whump #omega whump #cal ketsis #cal whump #clone bonding rituals #platonic cuddling #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #jedi fallen order #whump prompt #tw scars #tw child harm #tw child abuse

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lune-hime · 3 years

Text

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 6

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa clusiana ~ A delicate tulip that resembles a pale star, shining in the indigo expanse of the night.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

You coughed.

Actually... coughed.

A sound had been pressed from your slightly agape mouth. While Levi would have preferred it to be words or an utterance of consciousness, he would take what he could get. He didn’t know if it was pathetic that his heart swelled with happiness at the occurrence.

“That’s it, my Y/N.” He praised and stroked your cheek affectionately.

“Oma-” Levi yelled, his call rising in strength as the newfound name left his lips. A harsh clanking followed by rapid footfalls against the stairs brought your grandmother into the room with Felicia hot on her heels. Her chest fell with heavy breaths and her housekeeper looked as if she was prepping herself to slay a dragon.

“She coughed.” Levi stated. He allowed a rare unfiltered grin to spread across his features. Oma looked from him to you and soon her alarm blended into a smile of her own.

“Maria, Rose, and Shina boy you almost gave me heart palpitations.” Oma grumbled but the warm look never left her face as she padded over to you. She held her hand above your mouth and felt the steady breaths on her skin.

“That’s such good news!” Felicia said with clasped hands.

“Indeed. Her body is slowly regaining some normality.”

Oma lovingly gave your hair a few strokes before turning to Levi. She gave him an unusually sweet grin and he grimaced at the strangeness of it.

“You should smile more. It suits you.” She mused smugly. The upturned corners of Levi’s mouth comically went slack at her comment.

“Come have some tea with me. Felicia won’t let me in that damned kitchen without pecking at my ear. So we’ve been banished to the living room.” She added with a flick of her wrist. Levi gave you one final glance and followed her down the stairs. When the two of them had reached the main hallway, a rapid thudding from the front yard stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh, it better not be that goddamned wolf again.” Oma hissed and reached for her shotgun. With disregard for her slipper clad feet she stormed out onto the porch. Levi jogged out behind her, almost bumping into her as she undid the safety on her gun.

“Wait!” Levi shouted and preemptively put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from cocking her weapon. She halted with his grip but raised the barrel of her shotgun to her eye.

“Damn, It’s that cursed horse.” She sighed and put the safety back on her weapon, propping it up along the siding of the house with a frustrated movement.

Your horse was absolutely deflowering whatever poor tulip that fell under his hooves. He would gallop in one direction, head swinging and tail cutting through the wind, only to playfully buck up and then zoom away in the opposite direction. His obsidian coat absolutely contrasted with the flourish of bright colors that nipped at his hooves. It was the most Levi had seen him run freely in his life, and to be honest it was kinda beautiful. He had no fences to confine him or HQ pastures to deprive him of this endless botanical ocean. The creature that he saw before him now was a world away from the sad one he took care of yesterday. And Levi was at least glad for that.

“Well how the fuck did he get out? Did you forget to lock the stall door?” Oma seethed, waving her hands in frustration and hobbling down the porch steps. She looped around to the side of the house, where tethering poles were located and grabbed halter and lead rope to catch him with.

“I did lock it but that never stops him.” Levi exhaled, absorbing her well-earned anger as he followed closely behind her. She mumbled sweet nothings about humane euthanasia and turning him loose to be a wild horse until she stopped at the edge of her field.

Noticing he had company, your horse slowed his aggressive drifting to a halt and watched the two attentively. His nostrils flared with his excited breathing and the three beings held a staring contest within the gentle chroma of petals. Taking his stillness as an invitation to come get him, Oma carefully trudged between the rows of flowers. However, she did not get far, for when she got within a reasonable distance he suddenly snorted and skittered to the side, destroying even more of the crop.

Oma snarled and began stomping over more aggressively while being mindful to step around her moneymakers. For every one step she took in his direction, your horse trotted about four feet away and stopped, as if taunting her to come in further and destroy even more plants.

Levi watched nervously from the main path. He decided it was time to jump into action when Oma managed to get within range of looping the lead rope and halter around his neck. Your horse suddenly delivered a powerful kick that if she hadn’t deftly dodged would have clocked her right in the ribs. Oma cursed in simmering frustration.

“Stop, you’ll get hurt!” Levi called, mindfully stepping through the field and grabbing one of her arms to stop her from advancing. “Let me try.”

He gave Oma a determined look to which she grumbled and surrendered him the halter. Levi approached the animal calmly to only be met with the same snotty behavior. He closed his eyes in annoyance and heard your giggle ring through his mind.

He loves it when you talk to him, see?

“You don’t have to freak out stupid.” Levi told your horse, noting the nervous giddy in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I called you a little shit yesterday, Puddle.” Levi continued through monotone gentleness and advanced slowly. Oma shook her head in disbelief.

“Am I watching a play about a princess right now? Are you going to start talking to the flowers next?” She huffed. Levi shot her an icy glare over his shoulder. Puddle snorted and eyed Oma as if in response.

“Apologize.” Levi turned to her with his default blandness. It was time Levi got back at her for all her incessant teasing.

“...Pardon?” She spat. “You think that bastard will comprehend?”

“Y/N says he understands what she is saying so; apologize. He won’t let me catch him until you say you’re sorry.” Levi was trying to hold back a smile and Oma’s perturbed features.

“Believe me, no one thinks it's more ridiculous than me.” Levi added.

“Maria, Rose, and Sina fuck me.” She mumbled before standing her ground, unamused.

“I’m sorry I was rude to you..uh-what did you just call him?” Oma started.

“Puddle.” Levi stated.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Oma furrowed her brow in thought.

“She named him after her pet frog.”

Oma exhaled and shook her head once more.

“Puddle.”

His ears perked up at the mention of his name. Levi eased himself closer and there were no more protests from Puddle besides a few anxious paws at the dirt.

“I hope he didn’t cause too much damage.” Levi sighed as he reached up to buckle the halter around Puddle’s head.

“Not significantly, just more weeding for me now.” Oma chuckled dryly. She fell into step with Levi when he exited the field.

“Of all things why did she choose such a cutesy name for a warhorse?” Oma wondered aloud. Levi almost laughed at the memory her question drudged up.

“She received him when she graduated from the cadets. It was rainy that day. When he was brought out to her, he immediately laid down and rolled in a muddy puddle. The brat got all dirty and she laughed when he shook mud on everyone.”

The smile that graced Oma’s lips held as much vibrancy as her flower crop. That kind of look seemed to take over her features every time you were mentioned.

“Put him in the pasture instead of the stall, he can tear up my grass to his heart’s content.” Oma instructed when they got to the front yard. Levi nodded in confirmation.

“And meet me inside after, Felicia should be done with dinner by now.”

Levi let out an exhale that puffed his cheeks as he stood in the yard for a moment, gathering his bearings. He looked over to Puddle who was munching away on the grass, acting as if he hadn't a care in his life.

"You're always going to be a pain in my ass huh?" Levi mused aloud as he jerked on the lead rope.

↞♞♘↠

Another droplet of sweat slinked its way down the side of your face as you heaved yourself up from the dirt.

“Good job Armin!” You praised the boy who gasped for air. “Your technique is improving.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. I still lost.” He laughed nervously as he graciously took your hand and let you pull him up from where he laid on the ground. You clicked your tongue in disapproval.

“In sparring matches it doesn’t matter who ‘wins’, it just matters if you improve your skills. The true winner is the one who comes out of whatever situation you are faced with alive.” You assured, boosting his confidence with an encouraging smile.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He replied with a more confident grin.

“You’ve gotten so philosophical since you became a squad leader.” Jean commented with a hint of snark.

“Someone needs to be the brains of this operation. I’m definitely second to Armin.” You lauded at the shorter boy and he blushed.

“Even I'll admit we’re at the bottom of that totem pole Jean.” Connie snickered and Jean scowled.

“That makes me the brawns then?” Jean questioned rhetorically. You rolled your eyes at his cockiness and Mikasa snorted from her place on the fence.

“You also didn’t beat me in our sparring match.” You countered playfully.

“You just said that winning doesn’t matter.” He quipped back.

“That doesn’t apply to you.” You teased and stuck out your tongue.

Jean was about to counter attack when Sasha butted in.

“Yo, Y/N. Captain Levi and Eren are back.” She said between bites of her fries she had stolen from the leftovers of today’s lunch. She nodded behind you and you turned to see them walking towards your group. Since the incident with Annie and the devastation that befell the special operations squad, Erwin decided to combine the talent of your squad with that of the remaining members of Levi’s squad. Thus you became joint squad leaders. You usually trained all together as one unit but when Levi worked with Eren one on one, you were left with Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, and Sasha. You looked down at your watch.

“It is about time we’re scheduled to be done anyway, see you guys later!” You grinned with another successful sparring session coming to a close. The mob of scouts moved out after they had said their goodbyes, absorbing Eren on their way back to HQ. Levi nodded at the group in a silent address when they passed them.

“Hi.” He greeted when you came to stand in front of him.

“Hey, enjoy the show?” You teased and casually fixed where his collar had blown up haphazardly.

“Mhm. I love watching you kick other people’s asses.” He replied with a hum as he craned his neck to give you better access.

“Someday if you’re lucky, I may even kick yours.” You winked and he huffed.

“You don’t have any plans tonight, right?” He asked, confirming you had the evening open for him. You shook your head.

“Nope, you told me to free up my schedule.” You beamed. Levi smiled softly.

“Good. I have a surprise.” He stated simply. The way your eyes bugged out of your head caused him to chuckle fondly.

Surprise? Levi? This was something rare.

“Follow me.” He instructed with a smug half grin. He led you to the stable where his horse was already tacked. Dandelion, as you had named her after her flaxen coat, had a flannel blanket secured to the back of her saddle framed by saddle bags filled to the brim.

“I couldn’t get him, as usual.” Levi sighed and you giggled in understanding.

“Be right back.” You said with a gentle hand on his arm as you passed. You re-emerged from the pasture a few minutes later with Puddle in tow.

The ride through the forest was blissful. Levi led the way through the lush grove of trees, the warm chroma of the fading sun’s tendrils breaking through the canopy and nuzzling into his dark locks. Your ride took you not too far from headquarters and soon you found yourself face to face with a lovely sight. Before you lay a pond; ducks flapped about in the cattails, crickets harmonized along its edges, and the water sparkled in the waning daylight. You dismounted Puddle with your mouth hung open in awe.

“How did you find this place?” You almost whispered, too enamored with the little cove framed by towering pines. It felt like a secret spot. Your secret spot.

“I was on my way back from one of the outposts and came across it. It’s...nice isn’t it?” Levi explained as he dismounted and began unraveling the blanket. He snuck a peek at your amazed expression and felt himself swell with warmth.

“Yeah, it’s wonderful.”

Levi walked over to the large grassy area and flicked the blanket open and let it fall flat onto the earth.

“How can I help?” You asked, still oblivious to the purpose of this excursion. Not that you were complaining. The inner romantic in you was squealing in delight.

“I’ll do it, go check out the pond for a bit.” He smiled with a nod in the direction of the water. Leaving the horses to graze near the entrance to the clearing you trotted down to the water’s edge. It had been so long since you had been in such a natural space. It reminded you of the big lake in your village where Oma would take you and Jean fishing as kids. You were being lulled into a state of relaxation by the gentle ripples of the water when Levi’s call brought you back to reality.

“Ready.”

When you regrouped with him, the fruit of his actions manifested a grin that was so wide it hurt your cheeks. The blanket was adorned with two plates and a basket full of delicious smelling food. You couldn’t contain your excited grin as Levi patted the spot next to him.

“Did you make this?” You asked in shock as Levi served you grilled salmon and a warm roll.

“Yes.” Levi chuckled at your continued amazement. You took the plate gratefully and smiled when he reached for a thermos you knew had to contain tea.

“By yourself?” You pressed. He side eyed you as he poured you a cup. He blew on it once and passed it over to you.

“I...had some help.” He confessed.

“One of the cooks?” You guessed as you grabbed a fork and napkin from the basket.

“No, surprisingly. Erwin.” Levi stated as he took a sip of the tea. Your eyebrows furrowed in astonishment.

“No fucking way, Erwin cooks?” You chortled. You pictured Levi struggling with the stove and being corrected by Erwin who stood watch over his shoulder. Your happiness was contagious and Levi began laughing too.

“I was shocked too.” He smiled genuinely and hoped you could see how warm you made him feel in moments like these. In all moments, really.

Your meal was enjoyed with your usual playful banter and discussions of your days.

“So what’s the occasion for all of this?” You finally asked when you had both finished eating and tidying up. It wasn’t your anniversary, it wasn’t either of your birthdays. It wasn’t Puddle’s birthday either. (Yes, you indeed celebrated that.) Levi cleared his throat in response. His cheeks were dusted with the faintest of roses. His uncharacteristic bashfulness had you practically vibrating with anticipation.

“It’s uh, the day that you first told me you loved me.” Levi declared with a tenderness to his tone that he rarely expressed. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest as it filled past its brim with pure affection.

“You remembered the date?” You asked, tears welling at your eyes at the touching confession. You remembered the time as vividly as if it had happened yesterday but not the numerics of the day.

Levi nodded and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. The devotion that burned from every essence of his being radiated onto you with such a heat you would have surely melted into pure love without his hands holding you.

“Y/N, I know I’m the king of shit when it comes to expressing my emotions. But if there is one thing I want to be good at expressing, it's my love for you.” He professed with a passionate kiss to just under your jaw.

“I want to make sure you know how enough you make me feel, how much life you have breathed into me.” He continued, his voice straight out of a confectionary. He reached up to kiss your forehead.

“I can’t think of myself without thinking about you. I’ll save the self depreciation because I don’t want you to hit me.” He smirked and you huffed happily through your incoming tears. His kisses trailed to your cheeks, effectively curbing the salty stream.

“I’m working on saying it more. You make me feel loved every moment of my life and I need you to feel that way too.” He stated with velvety purpose. This time his lips touched upon yours and you molded into his embrace as if you were two droplets of water from the nearby pond.

“Levi…” You exhaled between kisses, too overcome with emotion to say anything other than his name. For his name was the source of your greatest happiness and you cradled it close to you always. He took the opportunity of your speech to slip his tongue between your parted lips. You moaned at the closeness as Levi gently pushed you back onto the blanket.

“I love you, Y/N. Infinitely.” He whispered to affirm all he had confessed previously. His eyes held yours with such a desperate desire that you equally matched.

“And I love you, Levi. Always.” You returned. Your wandering touch down his torso transferred thousands of unspoken professions of love into his being. When he pressed his body down to yours, you swam in his palpable admiration.

Soon your pleasurable shrieks were spilling from your throat with the sporadic intensity of firecrackers. With every deep thrust, the fuse lit, exploded, and relit again, sending you into an endless loop of ecstasy. Levi’s next thrust hit you in just the right spot to spark electricity and you let out a passionate moan that echoed off the trees. You yelped and moved to cover your mouth, only Levi was quicker. Walls forbid a patrol heard you.

He pinned your hands over your head as he continued to move against you. Removing his mouth from your neck, he regarded you with lustful intensity. His pupils were dilated and locked onto your blissfully contorted features with eyelids heavy with raw pleasure. His lips were swollen from endowing you with praise and it was enough to send a jolt of arousal coursing through your figure.

“Don’t. I want to hear you. We’re far enough away that only I’ll hear your sounds.” He cooed just before a husky moan parted his lips as the roll of his hips grew more fluid. You obeyed his wish and blessed his ears with another erotic cry as his hands smoothly traced down your neck, over your breasts, down your sides, and came to squeeze at your hips. The grasp gave him more leverage and you felt yourself seeing stars when you bucked your hips to match his movements.

“Levi I’m close-”

“Fuck, Y/N. Me too-” Levi groaned, the pleading tone you used to speak his name sending him over the edge. As the wave of his orgasm crashed into him, he was so mesmerized in the way your back arched into his hips, the way your hands feverishly grasped at the fabric of the blanket, and the way your supple breasts bounced with every pump, that he almost forgot to pull out.

What happened in the next moment, though, made that choice for him. A resounding thud at his side ceased his movements and he pulled out of you in alarm. You both whipped your head in the direction of the intrusion. Before you could even register what was going on, Puddle rammed Levi in the torso with his head and sent him stumbling backwards.

“Levi!” You squeaked and scrambled to get between him and your raging horse. Holding your hands out in front of Puddle, you stood protectively over Levi who was still recovering from the sudden flight.

“Hey, hey! I’m fine. See?” You gently called to him. He stamped his hooves a few times anxiously before falling under your calming aura.

“I’m fine sweet boy.” You assured and reached out to take his head in your hands and stroke his nose. Hearing Levi curse under his breath behind you, you tried to contain your laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“Are you alright, Levi?” You asked with a guilty bite of your lip. He glared up at you and your puffed cheeks from stifling your amusement. He was only annoyed for a moment before the two of you cracked up in unison. He shook his head and got up.

“Yeah. He just knocked me over.” Levi replied, his irritation washing away the moment he regarded your curves accentuated by the caress of the moon’s rays. Levi rose and moved to your side. When he got within proximity of his hand ghosting the curve of your lower back, Puddle pinned his ears and snorted. Levi jerked his hand back.

“Oh fuck you, horse.” He spat and glared at the animal. You giggled once more and tethered Puddle to a tree next to Dandelion. A shiver raked your body at the loss of Levi’s vigorous body heat as you padded back over to your love nest.

“You better be fucking me, captain.” You ordered with a viscous sweetness that slid right down Levi’s throat. You lied down on the blanket with your legs pressed together. You shimmied your hips in a sinful rotation that had Levi twitching with arousal at your forefront request.

“It’s unfair you got to cum and I didn’t.” You pouted suggestively.

“It is poor manners to leave anything unfinished. But I have another idea.” He purred. The ethereal view you had of your lover from this angle made you gasp. The puff of air that left your lips released all the boldness you had mere seconds ago into the atmosphere. Heat bloomed on your cheeks at the view that convinced you for a split second you had to have been in a painting. The indigo twilight bathed him in a pale argent aura that only elevated the silver shine of his eyes as they regarded you as if you were the only living being within these walls, within the world itself. He wore the light of the moon as a cloak that kissed his muscles and ivory skin. He was like a fallen star that had just tumbled into your lap.

From your lap, Levi gingerly spread your legs. He spared one more cautious glance towards your horse before nipping at your plush thighs. Where he bit, he followed with an open mouthed kiss that felt like you were being touched by the wing of a butterfly. While his kisses were extraordinarily soft, his hands were not so. They pawed at the flesh of your upper thighs and journeyed to your ass to squeeze. The combination of pressures was driving you insane .

“Levi-” You whined when his hot breath tickled the top of your core. He flicked his eyes up to meet your wonton expression. His charged gaze stayed cemented to you as he dipped down to languidly lick your wetness. When he tasted your sweetness, Levi let out a syrupy moan that vibrated against your clit and reignited the fireworks. Your thighs squeezed together in euphoria, locking his head in place. Your excited spasm delved his tongue into your slick opening and stole any coherent thought from you. He momentarily broke from his ministrations, rising from you with lips glossy with your juices. He licked them tantalizingly slow and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry, princess, because of our interruption we are just getting started.” He hummed in satisfaction before diving right back into your intoxicating taste.

#levi #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #hange zoe #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean #levi/reader

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nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years

Note

May I have a my hero and ohshc matchup plz

I'm a short girl around 5'2 with long brown hair and eyes and a leo. I like anime,dragons,reptiles,drawing but I'm not good,tarantulas,sweets,video games, memes,dark humor. I am very kind but I care more about others than I do myself. I have bad anxiety. I tend to overthink about everything. I love to sing especially country music but I am tone deaf. I have trouble standing up for myself because I was bullied alot. I can be very blunt. I also love to swear. I can be very loud. I love a good mystery and cop shows. I love dad jokes and puns.I am terrified of bees and heights. I am very lazy but I can be good at doing stuff if motivated. I have a very kind heart and sad stories or ones with very happy endings make my heart happy or hurt like crazy. But even though I'm kind that doesn't mean i am nice all the time. I am extremely grumpy and have a short temper especially on no sleep or if I just woke up. I also do have adhd and some anxiety I dont like being touched randomly unless I know it will happen or if I touch someone. As for dreams I'm not sure I wanna be a voice actor but not too sure if its right for me as I don't know how to edit or even have the equipment. I want someone who can just listen to me as I ramble on about things I love. I want someone to understand that I think differently then normal people. I also want someone to be able to understand im not the most affectionate person but I can be if given time but I will help someone if they are touch starved like I am.

[🌄 @cutelittleriot requested one (1) regular My Hero Academia matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

YAYYY!! First bnha matchup!! I gotchu bud 👍 I’m thinking about trying something new for the bnha fandom in particular. So, I’ll try it out and see what you think! Also, I got a little carried away with this one, so if it doesn’t seem characteristically accurate to you, please tell me!! 😖

And, the lucky person is:

⛰Eijiro Kirishima⛰

Quirk: Dragon

Dragon is a mutation quirk. It manifests slowly over time, until the user becomes about 60% dragon-esque at around 15/16 years old.

Scales and tough skin appear on the arms, legs, and face. Sharp teeth and claws grow in. Horns protrude from the forehead. A tail grows from the spine. Finally, wings grow from the back.

Flesh becomes twice as tough in places where scales are.

Depending on the user’s body type, wing usage is limited. (Since you’re generally shorter than average, “flying” and gliding comes easier to you.)

When the user consumes pressurized carbon dioxide, their stomach converts it into flammable gasses. Which allows the user to breathe- er...burp...fire.

Fire must be carefully used however. The smoke produced can accidentally be breathed in, causing lung damage.

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

I’ll start by saying this: Being bullied is never fun. Being bullied over something you can’t easily control or change? Rub salt in it, why don’tcha?

You weren’t sure what the select few kids in your grade thought was so hilarious about your quirk. But, they managed to find enough wrong with it to do their damage for most of your time in school

First, the patches of scales that showed up on your skin were “too weak”. Then, your awkward transition stage with growing horns, wings, and tail was suddenly “ugly”

By the time your quirk fully manifested, the jeers finally devolved to “freak-ish”

Like a river carving out the Grand Canyon, the work was slow and wore you down over time. But, the impact was a lot bigger than even you’d initially thought

While you managed to somewhat heal and learned to guard your emotions against such hurtful things, that’s all you learned to do: Guard yourself. You were a shield with no spear, since you never fought back

With the help of supportive parents and teachers, your self-esteem wasn’t so low, but you did often downplay or underestimate your abilities

Like, Bitch??? You can burp fire??? Know your power???

The people you were on good terms with seemed to see a potential that you either disregarded, or didn't know about all together

They saw the way you treated others with consideration and forethought. How, despite (or because of) your anxiety, you remained hyper-aware of the problems of others and how to accommodate. And while your anger did have its vices, people knew how hot your righteous rage could burn

It actually took a lot of convincing for you to even apply to U.A.

Outside of your other aspirations for the future, you didn’t particularly feel worthy for the job. Of anything you could be, you weren’t a fearless, upstanding, unshakable individual, not even giving a second thought to throwing yourself into danger for the good of others. You weren’t your alleged definition of a hero, and that was enough to deter you

But, whenever you recited your polite (well-rehearsed) decline, most gave you the same weirdly optimistic retort:

“Just try, maybe you’ll do better than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

So, here you were at an entrance exam full of people you hardly knew, wondering how you even rationalized to yourself that this would go just fine

The written exam went okay. As well as you could for literally guessing what to study to pass

All you had to do was do your best on the physical exam, and you’d be done for the day

But, your issue was in the people around you, not the exam itself

You were aware of the high amount of attention the moment you walked onto campus. The way other kids measured you up from a distance, studying everything about your not-so-human body. Watching your every move, especially the way your movements were strained from soreness (A short period of intense training tends to do that to you). You assumed they also wanted to see if your disposition was as powerful as your quirk suggested

((You specifically noticed a coltish, green-haired kid muttering to himself, questioning if your wings could actually support your body weight))

Even now, as the prospective heroes-in-training warmed up, you felt the stares burning into you

Half of you wanted to lift your eyes and rhetorically ask what the hell they were looking at, only feeling more annoyed as you snorted and returned to what you were doing. The other half wanted to fold into yourself until you disappeared (If only it were that easy)

But, you had enough (Roughly, one billion) worries on your mind to put confrontation on the list. Shaking off your anxious shivers as you lowered your head and continued with your “stretches” seemed so much easier

(A.k.a. Staring off into space as you held your limbs in awkward positions)

The time to begin the physical test was drawing near, and your self-doubt hadn’t eased up. Maybe this was a mistake. You didn’t belong here. Not when so many other students could fill the space you’re wasting so much better. Maybe if you slipped through the back now, you’d save yourself the disappointment of not living up to your own standards

“Hey, brown-haired girl! With the horns!”

You heard a gruff whisper from not to far behind you, from the left. You tensed for a moment, wondering what the voice could possibly want from you. But, the sight you saw was rather unexpected

The voice definitely matched the body, bulky and slightly rough looking, a little taller than you. Matched with a sweet face, sharp teeth, and bright, spiky, red hair. The smile he showed you instantly calmed your thoughts

“…Hm?”

You gave a short response, not wanting to jump to conclusions yet

“I saw you looking kinda psyched out over here, so I thought talking to you would make you less nervous!”

You felt a warm and fuzzy sensation in the pit of your stomach. As much encouragement as you got to achieve things, you didn’t see much of it to consider how you felt. How you could feel better. You liked it, which was surprising, considering the encouragement came from a perfect stranger

“Oh, uhh…thanks then. But, I’m fine, I promise! I’m no more nervous than you are.”

“Well, that’s also why I came to talk…I’m kinda freaking out too…”

This boy’s transparency was almost scary, but on the other hand, very comforting. You didn’t catch him trying to stare at your mutated parts once as you talked. Your eyes were the thing he seemed the most focused on, and while it made you embarrassed, it was the good kind (if that makes sense)

But, soon enough, the announcement for the beginning of the exam came over the loudspeaker, and you and your acquaintance had to look out for yourselves. But, before you parted ways, the redhead turned to you

“I’m Eijiro Kirishima, by the way! See you when I see you, Shortie!”

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

The beginning of Kirishima seeing you as a romantic option happened not too long after parting ways at the physical exam

He was almost completely cornered by one of the machines students could disarm for points. And just as that was happening, you had just turned the corner after shaking off another one

You saw Kirishima, but he definitely didn’t see you, trying hard to look tough, but struggling to stand his ground

It quickly dawned on you that Kirishima didn’t have a quirk that could easily deal with the hostile device. And if he did, he was too scared to use it

You vetoed the idea of charging in head on first. You didn’t feel like getting yourself or Kirishima hurt. Especially without a plan. You needed to be smart about getting your only acquaintance out of this situation

Your heart raced and your execution was all but clean, but you ended up using your fire breath to weld the robot’s wheels to the concrete

Before you let your inhibitions get the better of you, you climbed the machine and punched out the camera on the front. From atop the beast, you hung your tail over the edge low enough for Kirishima to grab. You didn’t dare look down at the ground

“Dammit Eijiro, grab on!!”

Once you felt a weight on your tail, you used your wings to propel you both forward. Obviously, away from the robot

You were too high on adrenaline and fear to notice, but Kirishima stared at you like you were the embodiment of Heaven on Earth. The stars in his eyes almost seemed inappropriate for the situation 😅

You looked just as—if not more—afraid than he was. But, you seemed so okay with the fact that you weren’t fearless, and acted like a true hero anyway. He admired, dare I say loved that about you

And he didn’t even know your name

As soon as you found out that you and Kirishima were in the same class, you felt instant relief. At least you were familiar with someone at U.A.

You guys’ friendship developed rather fast, like and extrovert adopting an introvert

Kirishima quickly noticed how fast you opened up once you got comfortable around him, and loved you all the more for how bright and vibrant the unfiltered you was

He found himself picking up on your sense of humor, telling dad jokes you whisper under your breath to the Bakusquad (Much to Bakugou’s dismay 😅)

Don’t worry, he always gives you the credit 😉

As time went on, Kirishima learned to appreciate how blunt you were. He realized that he needed someone to tell it like it is (“It isn’t manly to sugarcoat things! 😤” he says)

And while Kirishima prefers physical activities over video games, he loves to hype you up while you play before classes

It was only natural a mutual crush would form :D

Kirishima finally worked up the guts to ask you out after the U.S.J. Incident

You and him had gotten separated (You had gotten trapped with the cold son of Endeavor. And you both took out the villains with an awe-inspiring display of fire and ice)

Kirishima was faced with the reality that either of you could lose each other at any moment. And while both of you came out alright, he realized he couldn’t be wishy-washy about his feelings for you

He told you on your way to school the next morning:

“Look. What happened yesterday really scared me. Normally, I wouldn’t say that, but I think you deserve to know. Because…you mean a lot to me!! More than I can put into words. I love when we have fun together, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I never got to tell you how I felt…”

“Basically…I like you!! Like…in the romantic way…”

Your early morning grumpiness dissipated almost instantly, replaced by momentary confusion and disbelief, then embarrassment and joy. Was this really happening…? The boy that took a chance on you since the beginning, confessed that he had feelings for you…? Even though you didn’t question your relationship, you always assumed the nice things Kirishima said, the way he looked at you, was all part of the pleasantries. You questioned if you were even worth all of that

‘But you are.’ The little voice Kirishima helped you develop said. ‘And he would say more if he didn’t look so embarrassed.’

And so, you accepted Kirishima’s confession. And he saw the sweetest smile you had ever given him since the first time he complimented your puns 😊❤️

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

#caravan commodities #special bindles #matchup #cutelittleriot.traveler #cutelittleriot.request #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha matchup #bnha matchup #back on the grind #😊#my other choices would’ve been Mirio or Sero

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volleyball-dontknowher · 4 years

Text

Break up with your girlfriend and date me instead

WOrds: 1.7k

Warnings: None

Characters, Kenma, Tsukishima and HInata (all seperate and x reader)

Requests are open!

Kenma

It had been almost six months since yoou and Kenma started dating and it went exactly how you would expect, you chatted some in the mornings before school and during lunch, but otherwise majority of your time together was after school or on the weekends where you didn’t have to worry about other people bothering the two of you. One of your friends didn’t understand this and continuously asked you if you were going to bring Kenma around or why you weren’t sitting next to him, and when you told her that it was because he needed his space too she always rolled her eyes as you changed the subject.

This had been happening since the beginning of your relationship and never thought too much of it, until she decided to go talk with Kenma alone.

*From Kenma’s perspective*

“Heyyyyyyy Kenma” You recognized the voice, she usually hung out with Y/N so I had to at least be a little nice to her so Y/N doesn’t get mad.

“Hi” I mumbled not looking up from my game, being nice and caring are two different things.

“Soooo whatcha doin?” She asks while sitting down right next to me.

“Playing my game.” “Ohhh what game? It looks really hard, you must be amazing,”

“It’s animal crossing, I have a five star island,” she was getting annoying and she’d barely said anything.

“Wow Kenma you’re so talented.” “I guess.”

“Well I wanted to ask you something?” Crap, she wanted to actually talk and I really don’t want to, before I could respond she was already going off, “so how is your relationship with Y/N going?”

“Good.”

“Is it really? I don’t see the two of you hanging out often, like it looks like the two of you aren’t even dating.”

She's annoying, “We’re dating,” I huff out just wanting to focus on my game but I know that she is going to want to talk more.

“Why?”

“What?” I couldn’t help but look up at her to see that she looks serious.

“I mean come on Kenma, you two don’t work together, I think you should date me instead, I mean I am a lot prettier and I will actually hang out with you and talk to you and cheer for you at all of your games because I care about you so much.”

“No you don’t,” I respond, she really knows nothing.

“But Kenma I promise you I do, we would be the best couple ever, we would have so much fun going out together and we look so”

“No we would not. I like Y/N and we are dating so stop talking.”

“Kenma listen to me we would be so much better together and she is nothing compared to me.” SHe is practically whining at me and I’m sick of it.

“I don’t care what you think, you’re annoying” I can’t help but tell her the truth, and I don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s staring at me in shock.

“Kenma Kozume you are a jerk and I can’t believe that you could say something like that-”

“I can, I don’t like you, I like Y/N so stop wasting your breath and find someone else.”

She is peeved but I don’t care she is annoying. I get up and leave the bench to go find Y/N so we can walk home together and I can show her how much I’ve done on our shared island. (That he secretly has been working all day on to show you because you only had two stars at the beginning of the day and he just wants you to be proud of him and loves how happy it makes you, like he was really annoyed that he had to stop to tell that girl that he was not interested)

Tsukishima

You and Tsukki were the perfect couple, you both complimented each other perfectly, you brought out everything in him that he thought that the public would never see. You were too good to be true and he made a point to constantly remind you. What the world saw was him greeting you by the door, walking you home, and giving you his sweatshirts. What they didn’t see however was how you called him after practice and just let him talk about all of his worries, or how you pack him food for long bus trips because you know that’s the only way that he’ll eat, or how you practically pounce on him when he comes over and give him all of the affection in the world. This is what let your friend decide that she id going to have...an opinion on your relationship.

*Tsukishima’s perspective*

Morning practice was as brutal as usual this morning, they all voted for sprints this morning and it really couldn’t have been worse. Now it’s over and I’m waiting for Yamaguchi to finish changing so we can walk to class together. It was a little colder out today and I just wanted to get inside. I decided to put my headphones on for a couple of minutes of peace before school, as I grab them out of my bag I see one of Y/N’s friends running towards me.

“Tsukishima, hey Tsukishima!” She is calling my name, shit. She’s annoying and I really only handle her because she is Y/N’s friend.

Once she gets to me she is out of breath but tries to puff her chest out and smiles at me, “Heyyy so I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?”

“What?” Did she really just ask me that? I have a girlfriend and she knows it, she is literally friends with Y/N what the hell.

“I mean I thought that you would want a girlfriend who actually cares about you ans wants to spend time with you and I would also love to show you a good time,” she says while rubbing her hand up on my chest and I can’t help but brush it off of me.

“Why would I do that?” Is she really asking me to go out with her? Is she stupid?

“Because I like you stupid and I would be willing to fufill all of your needs and I’m prettier than Y/N and I would like to do everything for you. Besides you don’t even seem happy with her, like you do all of these things but that’s because she’s spoiled, you deserve better, duh.”

“You must be stupid, ugly and stupid.” “What?!?” “Y/N is my girlfriend, not you, do not touch me, do not talk to me and do not assume anything about our relationship. You must be stupid to think that you can come blink at me and expect me to go out with you. I knew you were dumb but that’s rediculous.” She was completely in shock, but that’s fine she doesn’t matter to me. Lucky for me Yamaguchi walked out of the locker room and we left her standing there, staring at me in awe. When I got to the classroom with Y/N I pulled her into a hug and told her that she needed to drop that friend before you got hurt.

He would actually never ever ever tell you this but you literally make him the happiest person ever and to think that someone would even think about trying to split the two of you up makes him both pissed and super nervous because if he was mean and still got asked things like that what happens to you, his nice and loving girlfriend. He makes sure to be a little closer to you for the next couple weeks because you are his whole world and he just wants you to be by his side.

Hinata

You and Hinata are literally so cute together and if you don’t know that the two of you are dating then you must be blind, deaf, and stupid. He was constantly shouting your name or is right by your side, HInata is loud but a complete sweet heart and he treats you so well that it makes other girls so jealous. Like no one else gets greeted by their boyfriend with a big hug and goofy smile every single morning. Other girls approach him often but usually you are right by his side.

Hinata’s POV

After school there is about 5 minutes after I change before someone with a key gets to the gym, so I like to sit on the steps by the gym to be the first one in. Usually Kageyama was there with me but today I was all alone, well until Y/N’s friend came along, she came and sat by me and gave me a really warm smile.

“Hey Shouyo what’s up?”

“I’m just waiting for practice to start, you?”

She sighs and looks at me, “I’m not doing anything, I just wanted to know if you would be interested in hanging out with me?”

“What were you thinking? Practice starts in fifteen minutes so I guess I could talk with you until then…”

“No silly, I meant like hang out like go out on a date together,” she looks at me like I should’ve known that but there is no way.

“Um no… you know that I’m dating Y/N right?” Maybe she forgot or this was a prank, who knows what people are up to.

“Yeah, I know, but I mean I just thought that I would be more fun to date instead of her, like come on Hinata I play volleyball too, like we could do that together and I would actually be your biggest fan.”

“I already have a biggest fan and her name is Y/N and she is also my girlfriend so thank you but no thank you.” She’s Y/N’s friend, how you could she say something like that? “NO HINATA I COULD MAKE YOU HAPPY” “I am already happy.” Walking up next to the gym is Tanaka who got a set of keys to the gym and unlocked it for us, he looks at the two of us with a confused look on his face but doesn’t bother asking before he entered the gym. I get up to follow behind him and look back at her one more time, “If you wanted to be friends I would be more than happy to be friends with you, but I am taken and have to go to practice now, so have a good day!”

Hinata really didn’t understand what happened there, like she meant a date but he was already taken so he kinda just blew it off. When he told you later though you explained it to him and he kinda just laughed but also felt bad for rejecting her like that even though she should have known better than that.

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

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gently rings a little bell in your ear My fic updated with two new chapters when you weren't paying attention! but now i am tilting your chin up with the point of my sword, forcing you to look. its very villainous and cool. this is part three of an increasingly convoluted story, part one can be found all the way over here but if you just want the high school romance stuff and don't care about found family, that's fine, i guess, but like, what's your deal

The weekend is a welcome relief from everything at school. He’s tired of feeling like shit, so Saturday, annoyingly bright and early, he startles Lydia awake by flopping on her bed. It causes her to bounce, and she groans, pulling the dark purple blanket further over her head. “Beetlejuice…” “I was thinkin’, today we should spend th’ whole day outdoors, in th’ park or somethin’,” he grins, and she lifts the blanket just barely, to glare at him. “You only want to play outside because all your stuff was taken away,” comes her accusation, and she’s not exactly wrong, but he just wiggles a hand under her blanket and gives her nose a poke. “Let’s go get lost, somewhere. Come on, Lyds, please?” She tries to hit him with a pillow but her grip is tired from sleep, and all she manages to do is shove the thing at him.

Twenty minutes later, she’s dressed and ready, bouncing on the balls of her feet, as he mulls over which button up to wear, the highlighter yellow with purple bugs, or the dark green with orange bones. They’re two equally ugly shirts that kind of give him a headache to look at, and both are favorites. “I can’t believe you woke me up at eight so I could stand around watching you go through your wardrobe.” “This is important.” He settles on the bugs, finally, and pulls it on before turning to Lydia, but she’s gone. He blinks, and sticks his head out his door, in time to headbutt her as she comes back in. Both siblings reel back and hold their heads. “Beetlejuice…” she groans. “Lyd-eee-uhhh,” he mimics her. She huffs and throws what she’d gone to her room to retrieve at him. He catches it, then stares. It’s his hoodie, his ruined one from that disastrous Halloween. He can still see that faded dark copper stain in some places, but it's better than it was. Also, the holes slashed in the arms have been very sloppily stitched with a thick, black embroidery thread. He looks back at his sister. “You seemed like you were having a hard week,” Lydia says, shuffling her feet. “I never sewed anything before, I’m sorry it looks kind of messy, and I tried really hard to get the bloodstains out...” He slips his familiar stripes back on and feels much more at ease. “It’s cool,” he tells her. “I like messy.” He holds open his arms and she falls into them, pressing her face against his stomach. It's a nice moment, and for once, he doesn’t feel inclined to ruin it, just pats his little sister’s head. “Love you.” “Love you too.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Charles, ever an early riser, is surprised to see his children in the kitchen this bright eyed and bushy tailed on a Saturday. He’s pouring two coffees, one for himself and one for Emily, who is sitting at the table, head propped up on her hand, and still functionally asleep, when Betelgeuse and Lydia come bounding in to raid the fridge. “And what are you two getting up to today?” he asks, and the siblings pause to look at him. “Goin’ to th’ park.” “You think so?” Betelgeuse’s shoulder slump. “Seriously? You take all my stuff away an’ now I can’t even go out?” “You’re still in trouble. Why should you be allowed to go out and have fun?” “Cause that wasn’t specified!” Betelgeuse tries, and then turns to Emily. “Ma, tell him!” Emily mutters in her sleep, and Charles wordlessly sets the coffee down in front of her. The smell hits her nose, and robotically, she lifts the drink to her lips, eyes never opening. “Let BJ go do stuff,” she manages, maybe not as eloquent as she normally speaks, her voice gruff from sleep. Betelgeuse grins up at Charles. His father sips his own coffee, and then pats his son’s head. “Home before dark. No fire, no demon nonsense, no taking drugs from strangers.” “Home at midnight, commit arson, summon Satan, enjoy stranger candy. I gotcha.” Both his children receive a kiss on the head before stuffing Lydia’s little black coffin bag with snacks, and heading out.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s a big city, and there’s not a loss of things to do, especially with his powers, and there’s no adult supervision today. They find a café and enjoy a big breakfast, then he turns them invisible and they sneak away before the check comes, only reappearing a block later, Lydia grinning wildly. “Food tastes better stolen!” she says, and he pats her head. “There’s my little criminal.” They sneak into a movie, next, some horror thing Lydia had wanted to see that even Emily, the fun parent, had said she was too little for. It’s absolutely a gore fest, but not especially good, and they throw popcorn at the screen and cheer whenever the killer scores another victim.

“I think you’d die early in a slasher,” she says after, scattering their uneaten popcorn on the pavement in front of the theatre. She gets the attention of a whole flock of pigeons, which land and begin pecking at the kernels. “What’s your logic, there?” “You die on screen early and then the twist is you faked your death and were the killer.” “Ohh, classic. I love it.” “I’m a total final girl,” Lydia turns the half empty bucket upside down, much to the joy of the starving sky rats. “And then at the end, it’s like, I knew you were the killer the whole time, and I was just acting. Cause we’re in it together. You know, partners in crime.” He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder. “Always.”

He takes them to Central Park, next, holding her hand behind the theatre and apparating, accidentally, up a tree. She gasps and clings to him, and he digs his claws into the bark of the tree to steady them. “No worries, no worries. I just gotta..” They appear on the ground below, and Lydia looks dizzy. “Feels weird when you do that,” she tells him. “Like riding a rollercoaster, except your limbs are all asleep. But.. Kinda not that, at the same time.” It feels normal to him, but he regularly eats tin cans, so what does he know about normal to begin with?

Lydia takes her camera from her coffin bag, and readies it. It’s a little instamatic she got for her birthday, a few months ago, and she’s going through film like crazy, taking some pretty shitty pictures. He’s not that blunt to her face, though. It’s not like he was a rockstar on the ukulele when he first started, and she’s got a lot of enthusiasm for taking photos. He’s not going to be the one to squash that for her.

Also, he’ll bite off the hand of whoever tries.

“You think this can take pictures underwater?” she asks, aiming her camera at a random woman jogging by. The jogger makes a face, which seems to be what Lydia expects, because she snaps the picture as the woman continues on her way, and the little photo pops out the bottom. Lydia gives it an aggressive shake.

“I’m gonna guess no. Besides, it’s too cold for you to take a swim.” “So let’s go somewhere warmer. I’m thinking Hawaii.” “Good idea, genius, an’ how do you think we’re getting there?” “You can teleport us.”

He actually has to stop and think about that. “I don’t think I could do it in one straight shot,” he says at last. Lydia has moved to a different kind of voyeurism, because she’s on her stomach on the grass, following the movement of a trail of ants with her lens. “I’d probably have to do little distances, an’ get tired and need a nap in th’ middle.”

“Maybe through a mirror? Like Sam?” She adjusts the optic, an entirely useless motion, because this camera doesn’t have any kind of zoom feature. But she’s seen people do it in nature documentaries. “Never done mirror travel before.” He mulls that over. “I’ll practice when I get home, an’ see if I can even pull you through.” “You’re not allowed to go to Hawaii without me,” she gets what she considers her perfect shot, and then stands, brushing off her dark red dress. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They go bone hunting next, Lydia’s camera still at the ready, his keen nose leading the way. It’s easy to find owl pellets, and she breaks one open with her bare hands, as he teases her.

“Ew ew ew, Lydia gross, you’re touching it!” he pitches up his gruff voice to sound like a tweenage girl, and she rolls her eyes. “No skull in this one,” she frowns, wiping her hands on his hoodie.

“Maybe there’s a bodiless mouse head around here, livin’ it’s best life.” She looks doubtful.

Another, different smell hits his sensitive nose, just then. It’s death, new and fresh. His pupils dilate, and he follows it, her trailing after him, assuming he’s on the scent of more animal bones. What they find instead is an old man propped against a tree. He’s still warm, but the color is draining from his face, and rapidly. He doesn’t look hurt, he’s not bleeding. It’s like he sat down for a rest and died.

Lydia doesn’t get it, not right away. Death is a funny punchline in an overly gorey movie. She’s never seen the real thing, before. “Should we wake him up? It’s cold to be sleeping here.” He lifts the man’s arm, and it flops bonelessly back down. Her eyes go wide. “I doubt he’s gettin’ back up, kiddo.” She lifts her camera and takes a picture.

“Hello?” He hears a voice, and turns. The old man is standing next to himself. He looks back at Lydia, but she’s staring in fascination at the corpse, so he leaves her to it. “Hey,” he nods to the man, who looks relieved. “Can you call my grandson? My phone battery died,” he says, not seeming to understand the position he’s in. Betelgeuse tilts his head to the side. “You’re dead,” he says, a bit unkindly, and Lydia, who has been kneeling by the body, poking it, looks up at him. “I am?” “Wh- No, not you, Lyds, th’ stiff.” He gestures to the ghost, who has seemed to notice “himself” laying there. Lydia looks at her brother, confused. “There’s no one there.” “Sure there is. You just can’t see ghosts.”

“That’s me,” the old man says, not that anyone’s listening to him. “Should we tell someone about this?” Lydia asks him, and Betelgeuse shrugs. “Why? Someone will find th’ body eventually. You know. When it starts smellin’ like shit.” “I don’t want to leave him out here.” “Please, don’t leave me out here!” “I wouldn’t want to be left out here.” “Lucky for you, you’re never gonna die. You even try it an’ I’ll shove your soul back down your throat, if I have to.”

He smells the netherworld, and grabs Lydia, pulling her back, in time for another ghost to appear. A guide. The guide doesn’t even take a moment to look around, just instantly busies herself with getting the newly dead situated, and Betelgeuse picks Lydia up and carries her away. “That’s so sad,” she says, taking one last picture of the body from atop his shoulder. “I guess.”

They find the next official looking person they see, someone cleaning up trash, who doesn’t believe them, clearly, until he sees one of the photos Lydia took. The deathly pallor of the old man convinces him to go looking. Thirty minutes later, that part of the park is crawling with breathers, and the two of them are stuck on a bench, being talked to by cops. It’s a whole, boring process, and it’s drawing a big crowd. “Told ya, we shoulda minded our business,” Betelgeuse nudges his sister. Lydia is looking overwhelmed. Neither sibling ever gets this much attention. There’s even a news crew, though he can’t imagine what for. It’s just one old dead guy, and it’s not even a murder. Someone with a microphone tries to approach them, and he turns their mic into a black and white striped snake, forcing them to fling it away from themselves in a panic, and then he grabs Lydia.

They blink from existence and appear a ways away, and Lydia’s clutching his hand harder than she needs to. “Hey, come on.” His grating voice is soft, for her, as he kneels to her level, and she throws her arms around his neck. “How are you so calm? Doesn’t it make you sad?” she asks, softly, and he gives her an extra squeeze. “Happens to all breathers, Lyds. But it’s not somethin’ I gotta worry about, ever. So… no, not really.”

“Will you be sad when I die?”

He scoops her up, holding his little sister in his arms, and stands, her still clinging around his neck. “When you die at a hundred and twenty,” he tells her, carrying her along the path. “Wherever in the netherworld you end up, I’ll go too. Won’t even have time to be sad, me an’ you’ll be too busy causin’ trouble, even then.” She seems satisfied with that answer, and he doesn’t mind carrying her, so they enjoy the autumn leaves like that, her in his arms, as he follows the winding pathways of the park.

They don’t tell Charles and Emily, when they finally do get home, the sun just barely still peaking over the horizon. It doesn’t seem like a good idea, and Lydia doesn’t especially want to talk about it anymore. She pins her new photos up on the twine strung between the tall bedposts in her room. There’s a couple nice ones, and she lets him eat the ones she decides she hates. “Does it count as part of being grounded if you watch my tv?” she asks, and he grins. “Let’s find out.” She pops in Coraline, which he has to assume she’s got fucking memorized at this point, but they also talk through most of it. By the time the tasty looking bug furniture is on screen, her eyelids are drooping. “I dunno why they make her eatin’ bugs so evil. I wanna try beetles from Zanzibar,” he complains, and she just snorts in response “I’ll get you some fancy beetles, for your birthday.” “Kay. Sounds good.” She falls asleep on him a minute later, and he waives a hand, snuffing the lights, but lets the movie finish playing as he settles next to her, and sleeps.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` That next week is boring, but normal. Adam’s in the library every day, despite his earlier insistence that he had better things to do. Betelgeuse honestly just wheels the cart along and lets Adam shelf the books, now, which the nerd seems to unironically enjoy. He’s all smiles as he gets to put things away neatly. It’s embarrassing how endearing and cute Betelgeuse finds that. It’s Tuesday, Barbara isn’t there that day, at least, not right at that moment, so Adam is babbling about her. “Barbara and I aren’t really performers,” he’s telling Betelgeuse, returning a stack of history books to their proper places on the shelves. “But we thought it would be fun to try theatre together, and then we really enjoyed it, so we’ve been in the last two productions. She can really sing, she does this high note, and it’s-” “Angelic, I bet.” Both boys give a stupid, love sick sigh. Adam pauses, and nods, and then studies the other teen. “So.. You.. You like her?” “Yeah,” he says easily. “But that doesn’t mean anythin’.” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” he clarifies, flopping across the cart, stomach first, and laying on it, staring down at Adam, who is crouching to reshelf some more books. “That despite me being a hot piece of ass, I’m probably not her type. I imagine she goes more for…” he studies Adam, trying to think of a nice word for boring, plain and vanilla. “More stable guys,” he lands on. “Like you. I bet she even likes how cute your butt looks in your khakis. I know I do.” Adam flushes. “You think so?” “It’s a good butt.” He nods, and Adam goes redder. “I meant, you think Barbara.. Might like me?” “Well, don’t push your luck, or nothin’, but you probably got a better chance with her.”

“You’re not entirely unlikable,” Adam offers. Betelgeuse lets out a guffaw that’s too loud, because someone in the next aisle over shushes him. “You already forget what I told you Friday?” he rests his head on his hand, tone condescending. “I know no one wants me around.”

“You’re setting yourself up for failure, with that attitude.”

“You think so, huh? Think I just need to hold hands round th’ campfire and sing kumbaya with all you breathers? I don’t think anyone would even take my hand. Probably couldn't get away from me fast enough.” There’s a pause. He doesn’t realize what he’s said until Adam is repeating it. “Breathers?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because he feels a push on the cart, and turns to see Barbara, hands on the handle. “You’ve completely given up even trying, haven’t you?” she says, and he thinks she means about the books, and smiles. “No point. Adam’ll just do it for me.” “I mean with talking to people. With making friends.” His smile falls quickly into a scowl, and he runs a hand through his wild mess of green hair. “Lay off me, Babs. I’m bein’ friendly right now, aren’t I?”

“Sure, it’s plenty friendly, letting Adam do your work. But you don’t try, and then you get your feelings hurt when no one does it for you.” That’s not laying off, and it’s irritating him. “You can’t imagine anyone being nice to you, so you’re rude and push everyone away the first chance you get, in case what? In case you make a friend? Kevin probably needs you, right now,” she presses, physically too, making the cart he’s still lying across lurch forward. “I told you what happened to his dad, and you just said he wasn’t even your friend, when everyone knows you spent the last few months holding hands and making googoo eyes at him, and only talking to each other.”

“S’none of your business,” he tugs at his hair, pulling a tuft down to watch the color. Still green. He’s okay, but he keeps it there, in front of his eyes, focusing on it and not having to look at Barbara. “I’m making it my business. What are you so afraid of? What’s with the barrier? I saw you with your sister, you’re normal and nice, to her. So it’s other people you’re afraid of?” “M’not,” he growls out, standing up off the cart. “Afraid of anythin’.”

“You are,” she says, letting go of the cart and stomping to stand in front of him. She’s got him cornered, his back pressed to the bookshelf behind him. He keeps his eyes on that green tuft, biting his bottom lip. “You’re afraid of rejection, so you don’t talk, or you’re a jerk to people. You’re so afraid of other people, you make yourself sit alone every day, even when there’s an empty seat next to someone else.”

“No one wants me around!”

God, that hurts. He can see purple forming in the tip of his hair.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he rasps at her, letting his hair go, and finally looking directly at her. “You think I like sittin’ alone, bein’ the weird kid in every class, not havin’ anyone to talk to? It sucks!” he hears himself being shushed again, and he expends a burst of power in that direction, knocking books off the shelves to hit the person who can’t mind their own business. The sudden noise makes both Adam and Barbara jump. “You ever noticed that anytime I’ve tried, people can’t get th’ hell away from me fast enough? I’m tired of bein’ alone, but every time I try, somethin’ goes to shit, or I'm ignored! So maybe it is easier to just be a jerk an’ not worry about gettin’ hurt, than to keep tryin’ and ache all th’ time.”

It’s the most honest he’s ever been, out loud. Barbara clenches her fists, but doesn’t say anything. He sees Adam push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Lunch isn’t even close to over, and he’s just made more work for himself by knocking those books off the shelf, but he doesn’t care. He grabs his backpack from the cart and pushes past the two of them, and he storms out, forcing the library door to slam, even though it’s a soft close door. It feels more final, that way.

He spends the rest of lunch invisible, to avoid any more trouble with adults, and slumps into his customary seat in the back of every class, for the rest of the day. No one talks to him. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone. It’s a system, it works. Stupid Barbara. What does she even know? Like she can somehow understand anything he’s going through. She’s pretty, and cool, and has a ton of friends, he thinks, absolutely bitter. She doesn’t get it.

He trudges to the drama room after school, and pushes open the door with his shoulder. The seats are in a circle, again, and he chooses a random one, pointedly, away from Adam and Barbara, between two other people. He sits there, silent, and after a moment, the two kids both move seats. How miserably predictable. Come on, he wills himself. No purple, no red. Just stay green. You can go home and freak the fuck out, but just stay green, he begs his hair.

He wipes his nose hard with his hoodie sleeve, and focuses on that, on the texture of the fabric and the way he rubs hard enough for it to hurt. Pain is as close to relief as he can get. Then the chairs next to him are scooted closer, and he blinks, and realizes that Adam and Barbara have settled on either side of him. He doesn’t.. Get it. He can’t understand, but then both of them reach a hand out, and take one of his, and give it a squeeze. It’s grounding. He takes a breath he doesn’t need, and then a couple more, shaky and painful, and he gives their hands a squeeze back, like he’s making sure they’re real. They are.

When the club starts, he tries, very sincerely, to focus on what’s being said, and not the bright hot feeling blooming like a flower in his chest. Read the rest here!!

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice au #beetlejuice fanfiction #adam maitland #barbara maitland #emily deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice broadway

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evermorehaikyuu · 4 years

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Day 3

Title: The Last One Standing

Note: I’m sorry this was a bit later than usual, everything’s been wild today but anyways, here it is! On the bright side, no one dies in this one! But it is kinda wack though, man, I’m kind of iffy about it, I won’t lie to you. I will make up for it in the future angst fics.

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

“Don’t come on our team, Tendou!”

A lacuna in his heart.

“Monsters aren’t allowed on human teams!”

A shell.

“Yeah, he does look like a monster.”

Monster. An imaginary creature that was typically large, ugly, and frightening. He was only a child and he was already called a monster. Was it because he was good at guessing people’s steps? Was it because of his physical appearance? What was it about him that made people look away from him and talk about him behind his back? Tendou didn’t know what it was, but it stung. It stung that people would take a look at him and immediately scrunch their faces up in disgust.

The volleyball game that ensued, he came out victorious. He could only see the frustrated and desperate expression on the boy’s face and the feeling of power washed over him. A one touch wasn’t enough to feed into what he wanted, he needed more.

Day after day, he kept practicing, trying to ignore all of the words that everyone would say about him. None of that was important. Getting better at guessing people’s actions was much more important.

That’s how his life was until he met her. They met in high school and she had gone and opened her arms, welcoming him into her life without hesitating. Usually people wouldn’t welcome him into their lives unless they wanted something from him. Shiratorizawa saw his potential. The volleyball team had welcomed him, hell, Ushijima Wakatoshi himself invited him into this whole new world.

He was comfortable with everyone around him and when she walked into his life with a bright grin on her face, he couldn’t help but trust her on the spot.

Y/N L/N, his savior, the person who introduced him to the world again, reassuring him that not everyone was bad. There were a few aspects of this world that were horrendous, but with her by his side he could do anything.

At least, that was what he thought but he didn’t really expect it for the time being. He just wanted to be with her as long as he could.

However, some things don’t last as people wish they would.

“Hey, Y/N, are you done with my manga yet?” Tendou asked, bounding into her house, not really expecting her to be done with the manga. If Ushijima could barely finish, he didn’t expect much of her but he’d be pleasantly surprised if she had.

Y/N looked up at him, horror in her eyes. “Tell me you have the next volume, I’m not going to be stuck on this cliffhanger, Tendou!”

He stared at her and at the closed manga being gripped tightly in her hands. Her knuckles were turning white just from the force of her grip and he started smiling brightly. “You finished?!”

“Yeah! Now tell me you have the next volume, cliffhangers suck!”

“Well, lucky for you, I do have the next volume with me just in case you finished it quicker than Wakatoshi. He only reads the ads, it’s strange. But at least he tries, that’s what’s important.” He plucked the manga out of her hands, sliding the new volume into her empty palms.

She grinned down at the new volume and flipped it open to the first page, scanning the page quickly, her eyes almost becoming a blur. “You want to eat anything? I’ve restocked on your snacks and you’re welcome to my Netflix account.”

Tendou ruffled her hair, internally warm from her hospitality. Moving over to the cupboard, he decided to inquire about the new volume. “So what’d you think about the fights? They were pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah! They were so cool, I can’t wait to see them animated. But the villain is the absolute worst, his character development better not be messed with or else I’ll throw something.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled out the snack he had been looking for, munching on it as he walked over to her. Sitting on the chair near her, he looked over at the page she was on and thought, Wow, she really does care. She cares about something I love so much that she’s chatting on about it and it seems genuine. Maybe I can let my guard down around her.

One thing that he didn’t expect were his creeping insecurities coming for him. Nothing good was ever free in this life. You had to earn it and at the moment, he wasn’t sure if he had earned it. Either way, it was just an obstacle that he had to get through in his life. There wouldn’t be a problem. At least he hoped not.

Letting your guard down and being vulnerable around someone could bring bliss but it could also be the bane of your existence. There was no way no one in this life had their guard down completely. Once someone had ruined a person, there was no going back. It was all or nothing. Hurt was something unshakeable. Once it was there, once there was a new person in your life, you can’t help but lie like a prey waiting for its predator. The question that remains is always, “What’ll happen next? What’s their next movement? What if this is too good to be true?”

Some things were too good to be true, after all.

The last spike of the game, slamming down onto Shiratorizawa’s side of the court. The last spike made by Karasuno’s shortest middle blocker. The thud of the ball caused everything to be silent.

Y/N could only stare with the other spectators in the Shiratorizawa stands, nothing happening for a moment. Her eyes flickered over to Tendou, who was currently in shock, but his face wouldn’t reveal much.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Until Karasuno started screaming and cheering, the third years hugging each other and crying, everyone else on the team feeling like everything was surreal.

The team members that were not on the regular roster stood out of the court, gasps lost in their throats as they stared at the defeated team. Tendou could only look at the court and whisper, “Farewell, my paradise” before looking over at Y/N with a thwarted beam.

That’s what broke Y/N’s heart. The only place where Tendou felt like he truly belonged, truly loved to be in and now he was leaving it because of a team. After everything was over and the major events finished, Y/N raced out of the stands, dodging through the crowd, trying to find Tendou and his team.

All of them were currently walking out of the gym and heading to the buses, quiet at their expense. Y/N quickly said, “Hey, can I talk to Tendou for a second?”

Tendou walked after Y/N, slouching over until he felt a warm body pressed against his, arms around his waist. He stalled for a moment before wrapping his arms around Y/N as well. His heart was racing at the proximity, but he believed it was from the events of the game.

“Listen. You did your best. You did everything you could in your power. I can’t tell you that it’ll be fine, because it won’t. You’ll probably look back at this moment as nationals escaping from your grip, but believe me, Tendou--” She pulled back, placing her hand on his cheek, smiling sadly at him. “No one blames you or anyone. You were absolutely amazing out there and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay? You stunned me with every block, you were spectacular.” She reached up to kiss his forehead and looked behind him. “You gotta go. Go get on the bus and you can come over later.”

Looking at her receding back, he touched the spot she had kissed and his heart swelled with pure adoration for Y/N. It was rare when someone was genuine with him and wanted to be friends with him and not anything else. But it was extraordinary that someone had fallen for him, especially when he thought he was unlovable.

Maybe everything was going to be okay.

About two or three years had passed since he had graduated. He was currently in college, studying something other than volleyball. Tendou wasn’t going to be a professional volleyball player but he had no idea what he wanted to do.

Y/N got home, sighing as she placed her shoes by the door. “God, today was so exhausting, I’m so tired.” She draped herself across his lap like a cat and he reached out to put her hair.

“What happened today?”

“Eh, the normal, a ton of work for the weekend. I’ll start it tomorrow, let me take a nap here. Night, Satori.” She closed her eyes.

“It’s only 3 pm?” He stared down at her with an amused grin and she raised an eyebrow.

“Your point being?” She replied playfully before drifting off to sleep.

Oh, what fun the two of them would have in their last year of being together.

“Isn’t that the Guess Monster?”

“Yeah, he’s kind of scary if you ask me, he was on Shiratorizawa.”

“That’s a powerhouse school, isn’t it? Well, he certainly looks like he could guess your next step and bite your head off.”

Tendou walked through these rumors with his head held high, a facade of him not being hurt put over his face. Why was he still being treated like an unearthly being when he was only human? As a human, it was logical that he’d get hurt by these words and people still had the audacity to spread rumors and talk behind his back. But soon, he had had enough: he started sprinting, trying to get away from the ties that fastened him to his dark and traumatic past.

He got home quickly, shutting the door as he leaned against it, sliding down and burying his face in his hands as he swallowed. “Am I really a monster?” He mumbled to himself. He stayed there before hearing keys jangle in the door and thinking, Y/N’s here.

Then his thoughts turned tenebrous as he stepped away from the door. Y/N was not there for him. She was only there because she wanted something from him, but the question was what. There was no way Y/N L/N, the most adored person in Shiratorizawa, had been with him for this long. There was no way.

Tendou Satori’s fatal flaw was letting his insecurities get to him. He made mistakes because of it. And all of those mistakes could lead to him losing what he loved most.

“I’m home--Satori? What’s wrong?” One look at his voice and she was already worried. “You okay? What happened?” She put her stuff down and walked over to him, reaching for his hand.

But he nimbly pulled his hand away from hers. “Why are you still with me?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Satori, is this because of the rumors?” She tilted her head, squinting at him in confusion.

“How do you know about the rumors?” He demanded. “Did you start any of them? I bet you did, there is no way you could’ve stayed with me this long. You probably just stuck around to ridicule me just like everyone else! You were too good to be true.” Tendou turned away from her, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would only see the maliciousness he had expected within them.

“Satori, I don’t know where you heard that, but I swear I’ve never started any rumors about you! I’ve tried to break them off, I’ve tried to help you out, I wanted everyone to give you a second chance. I gave you a do-over, I want them to see you as I see you!” She cried out.

“As what? A monster?” He scoffed before she could say anything. “There’s no way you wanted to just be around me because you liked me. Tell me this, Y/N, what do you get when people have been bullying you from a young age? You get hurt. I don’t want to be hurt by the person I love.”

“You think I’m trying to hurt you? I’ve been trying to help you all of these years, Satori! I’ve been by your side at all times! What’s making you talk like this?!”

Tendou deliberately ignored that last question. “Well, you didn’t have to! I don’t think you’d want to be with me. After all, I’m just a Guess Monster, I could probably guess your next move and swallow you in a minute, huh? Right? Am I right or not?” In a moment of boldness, he looked up at her, fury clear in his eyes. Hysteria was blinding him from the truth and so were his self-doubts.

“I stayed because I wanted to! I wouldn’t have stayed otherwise! You’re being overdramatic, why are you so blind as to my true motives?! I’m not them, I could never be them! Why do you even doubt me for a second that I don’t want anything bad happening to you!” She swallowed dryly, her voice shaking now. “If you want me to leave, tell me. Please, Satori, I don’t want to lose you.”

Tendou could not stop his next words. “Y/N. Just….go. I know what your true motives are. I don’t want you to be with a monster like me, a monster that you obviously never cared for. I’m so stupid to believe that you did. You’re dense if you think I’m falling for another trick of yours.”

Y/N clenched her fists, staring at the broken boy across from her. She picked up his pieces long enough. “I gave you your chance and you used it to stab me in the back. You’re just like everyone else. You’re not different.” With those words, she marched back around and opened the door, looking over her shoulder. “You know, maybe someone’ll come along and fix the mess neither of us could fix.”

With the closing of the door, Tendou’s metaphorical vision shattered. Every single word he had said came rushing back to him, making him double over as he realized what he did singlehandedly. He just made the person he loved him the most--and who he loved the most--run away from him. He wanted to tell her to come back, but Y/N, as loyal as she was, was also stubborn and ruthless.

Tendou sunk onto the floor, his hands in his hair, almost trying to yank it out as he started shuddering. “Oh God...what have I done?”

Tears started pooling in his eyes and he blinked, the droplets falling slowly down his cheeks and making miniscule puddles on the floor. It hurt. It hurt that the person he loved so much tried so hard to stay with him but he couldn’t blame Y/N for leaving him. After what he did, he didn’t expect anyone to love him the way she did.

Hysterical gasps of anguish started coming from his throat until he was full-on crying his eyes out, his eyes closed shut to hold the tears back only to open them and have them fall again. So much was going on, reality was smacking him in the face. She wasn’t there to help him. She would never do it again.

It was his fault.

He made sure she wouldn’t come back.

Now he had lost the greatest treasure in his life and there was no way he could fix that.

After all, his biggest rival was his prejudices. They had taken over his mind and now they had taken her away.

Everything was broken.

Taglist: @skyguy-peach @jovialnoise @versatilewindow @tsukiibaka @jaegersblogh @kodzuken-pie @sugusho @kara-grayson04 @erialexerz @attixca @multishippers-trash-blog

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hyunsracha · 4 years

Text

for your entertainment — han jisung

word count: 2.3k

summary: jisung panics when he sees cute people. he also stares at them.

so you work at an entertainment store right

where ppl can buy like uhhh movies and albums n merch n stuff!!

u like ur job.. it’s one of the least popular stores in the mall so u spend most of ur time organizing and reorganizing with one earbud in listening to music

u have to wear a boring grey t-shirt as uniform so u spice things up by making the rest of u look good

everyone else does the same thing i mean … ur manager lia wears purple eyeshadow ok

ur other manager chris doesn’t even try to look good! and it’s so fucking annoying u wanna knock his fuck 24/7

random girl: hehe<3 can i have ur number?

chris: only if u sign up for our rewards program<3

u, angry bc u haven’t sold any rewards programs in a week: >:(

ur other two co-workers are hyunjin and jeongin.

hyunjin has a pretty popular youtube dancer cover channel, but for Copyright Reasons it’s not paying the bills

and jeongin is a senior in high school and this is his first job and u just wanna pinch his little cheeks every time u work together

“y/n i swear to god i’m gonna punch u and get fired rn stop POKING MY CHEEKS-”

“he’s just a little baby…*to passing customer* LOOK AT THE BABY!”

“>:(((“

so it’s a tuesday night.

tuesday nights are the fucking best (worst if u love talking to ppl) bc u’ll get like … 2 customers in 4 hours?

it’s 8pm and the mall closes at 9

usually u start vacuuming at 8:30 but at like 7:50 chris was like “GET THE FUCKING VACUUM WE’RE CLOSING RN !!”

jeongin: u do it.

u: no u do it bitch.

jeongin: *sticks out his fist*

u sigh and do rock paper scissors like the baby wants.

and u lose

u fucking lose

and jeongin just cackles, sitting down on the stool behind the registers

so u trudge to the back room and the vacuum, grumbling about how ur older so jeongin should be doing this!!

but it’s fine!

so you’re vacuuming right.

and in storms Han Jisung

yes han jisung is the kinda dude to come to the mall right before closing and go on a shopping spree

he’s got his best friend lee minho in tow, who does Not look happy to be here.

“come on minho!! i need to get season 4 of naruto to finish my collection!!” jisung whines, pulling on his friend’s arm as he stands on his tiptoes to look for the anime section.

“can you keep your voice down?? i have an image, yanno.”

“minho you’re literally here to buy a kelly clarkson album.”

minho grumbles and waddles off towards the cds, where you are...vacuuming...loudly

and minho’s like -____- why are u so fucking loud

like u don’t MEAN to be loud?? but it’s a VACUUM??

so minho’s looking for his beloved kelly clarkson album right,

and jisung comes around the corner, season 4 of naruto in tow.

and he sees you

and nearly drops it

jisung gets crushes very easily okay..

he can’t help it! the boy loves to love (◕‿◕)♡

and u look so cute in ur lil t-shirt!! like a little retail angel!!

so he grabs minho’s arm and DRAGS HIM TO where the movies are

and he panics!

“THEY’RE SO CUTE AAH I WANNA GIVE THEM A BIG FAT HUG-”

“do you mean the person vacuuming -__- loud as hell”

“minho it’s a vacuum.”

so you stop vacuuming and return the vacuum to the back room (and wash ur hands in the bathroom bc the soap smells like lemons and sunshine) and come back to the floor

u have a ton of time until closing so u just. sit.. and start reorganizing the heavy metal albums.

after a while u feel … weird … like ur being watched

so u turn around and. there they are. staring like (・_・)

and ur like “HELLO?!?!” but u don’t say anything

u just give them a Customer Service Smile and a, “can i help you with anything?”

jisung just giggles and shakes his head and minho keeps fuckign staring

mr lee i will knock ur fuck is that what u want

so u shrug and go back to ur sorting, keeping an eye on the CREEPS in ur store.

at 8:55 chris is like “jeongin go close the gate.” n jeongin’s like “FUCK YEAH” bc he gets to hold a big stick

so he’s walking towards the front of the store with his Big Stick when he sees jisung and minho

“what da hell are y’all doing?” is what he thinks but he says, “(: hi! the store closes in five minutes and i’m about to close the front gate. i’m so sorry, but you have to leave now! :)”

so jisung pouts and minho rolls his eyes, dragging his friend out of the store.

jeongin uses his Big Stick to pull the gate down and he locks it at about mid calf level so y’all can get out.

so that night, u go home and do some homework, but ur still thinking about those weirdos.

but! u’ll probably never see them again!

right?

Wrong.

u see them the next day!

they’re still watching u, but they’re closer

and minho looks more irritated.

towards the end of the night, ur Upset and Confused so u go over to them like o_o. What do u want.

and jisung goes JISJSJHTIE

and minho goes, “jisung thinks you’re cute.”

u start to blush, but jisung squeaks, “NO ahah- uh- he likes to talk in third person! he’s jisung ahaha.”

“my name is not jisung i would Hate to be named jisung.”

“WH- why? there’s a soccer player named jisung. and an idol! multiple idols!”

“yeah the guy in nct is 2 years younger than you and has the same name. and what have You done successfully? Quickly-”

“HEY-”

the two boys in front of u bicker while u start zoning out at the wall behind them.

you knew that the boy with blue hair was jisung, but you didn’t know the one with brown hair. and you assumed that they were friends, judging by the .. bonding activity that is staring at an employee.

and jisung wasn’t …. ugly

like he was really … really cute

but staring at people is fucking weird, jisung!!

when u finally snap out of it, u huff, “okay losers. we are closing soon. so you have to leave. but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you’re going to actually talk to me and not just stand in the corner! okay?”

the boys nod, grinning at each other before dashing out of the store.

so, like u said, they’re back the next day!

and this time they actually talk to u! Wow!

you’re sitting on the floor in the back of the store, organizing the funko pops for the 70th time when you feel A Presence.

two, actually.

it’s the two boys, sitting on either side of u.

“hi,” jisung says, playing with his fingers in his lap.

“you’re jisung, right? the cute one..” u reply absentmindedly

u hear a choking sound and then Silence

miss jisung ? miss JISUNG ?

he’s alive, but jfc BARELY

u just called him the CUTE ONE?!?!?

paying no mind, u turn to the boy on ur right, “and you are?”

“lee minho. don’t worry, you won’t forget it.”

“was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

“did it work?”

“no.”

“HAH!” and jisung’s alive again.

u spend the rest of ur shift talking to the boys, telling them all about ur life while they told u about theirs

u learned that minho was a dancer just like hyunjin! but he went to the nearby university to study.

and that’s where he met jisung, who’s a music composition major

...and a soundcloud rapper…

u could help the laugh that pushed past ur lips at his words

“WHY ARE U LAUGHING.”

“a SoundCloud rapper. really, sung?”

“IT’S COOL ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ”

u couldn’t imagine him as a ‘cool’ rapper dude

he just looked so fluffy :(

at 8:55, the boys got kicked out by jeongin again, but they stood outside the gate, waiting for u

“What do y’all want.”

“i wanna walk u to ur car:(“

“i don’t.”

“ok minho then Leave.”

“NO DON’T he’s my ride don’t say that to him.”

it’s dark outside, and a warm wind blows through ur hair.

it’s late spring, with summer (and finals) fast approaching.

“walking me to my car...what a gentleman…”

“yeah that’s why you should totally go on a date with me haha.”

“what?”

“you said-”

“i didn’t say anything.”

minho sighs from behind u, not understanding why his best friend has to be so damn stupid all the time

u lean on ur driver’s side door, not making eye contact with the boy

u didn’t know how to say bye..no one’s ever walked u to ur car before??

“so…” jisung speaks for u, “can i … have your number? so i don’t show up at the store when you’re not working.” he holds his phone out for u to take, a sheepish smile barely visible due to the lights in the parking lot.

“oh! totally.” you take the phone from him, jolting when ur fingers graze his. u set ur contact as ‘the person sungie likes to stare at~” before giving it back to him.

he chuckles at the name, and u feel something inside of u go DOKIDOKI

when he says goodnight and walks away, minho giving u a quick nod, u lock urself in ur car so u can PANIC

u barely know this boy. he’s a weirdo. why is ur heart going dokidoki

heart STOP IT!!

it only gets worse when u hear the text notification sound from ur phone:

[ unknown ]: do u work tmrw? (^_−)☆ i already miss u

…. frick …. he texts cute

dammit jisung why couldn’t u send the laughing emoji

[ y/n ]: i do ! ^.^ i’ll see u then?

[ creeper ]: wouldn’t miss it~ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ goodnight!

u nearly slam ur head on the steering wheel.

true to his word, jisung was back the next day

and the day after that

the day after That, u were off, so u didn’t see him

but u guys texted nearly all day!

jisung was just … really easy to talk to :/

and really funny :/

and every time he giggled u just wanted to cry a little bit :/

and u feel like a CLOWN bc u have a CRUSH on this dude that hangs out with u at WORK

one day, ur at work, and jisung isn't there:((

u feel a little dumb being upset about it, but u were starting to get used to the little guy

“somebody looks like a sad clown.”

“hyunjin~” u whine.

“oh no. that’s the boy problems whine. uhhh suddenly i’m on break!” he tries to stand and walk away, but u pull him back down next to u.

see, u and hyunjin were pretty close.

u two are the same age and watch the same dramas.

and ur both super dramatic

which is WHY when u got ur heart broken by lee donghyuck a few months after u started working there, he was ur shoulder to cry - and complain - on.

“stop :( there was this boy who came in every day and talked to me and he’s super cute but he’s not here today and i miss him :(“

hyunjin just …. stared at u like …. wtf are u talking about

“do you have his number?”

“yes.”

“have you texted him to ask why he’s not here today?”

“...no…”

“(；￣Д￣) Y/N U FUCKIN FOOL!!! U ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!!”

“STOP YELLING AT ME HWANG HYUNJIN I’LL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”

a customer standing in front of the register, trying to buy some headphones: uh.. should i go?

u make hyunjin deal with the customer while u sneak out ur phone to text jisung

[ y/n ]: where are u . no one is here 2 annoy me today (except hyunjin but he doesn’t count)

u wait 5 minutes … no reply

10 minutes … no reply

an hour … no reply

“WAAAAA ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ HYUNJIN ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡”

hyunjin, handing a poor lady her receipt: jesus fucking christ

ur sulking as u leave the store that night

u still feel dumb, but now ur too Sad to feel dumb

u press the lock button on ur car keys so the lights would come on and the horn would sound, telling u where ur car was

“OH FUCK- jesus...stupid car…”

….that’s not what ur car horn sounds like.

u slowly approach, holding ur keys in between ur fingers

ur not afraid to stab a bitch with ur mail key and that’s on wolverine.

u breathe a sigh of Relief when u see it’s just jisung leaning against ur door

wait

jisung

“jisung?” u voice ur thoughts

his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah..hi..sorry i didn’t text you back. i nearly backed out of doing this and i didn’t wanna look stupid.”

“you look stupid all the time.”

“jeez, thanks.”

u cross ur arms, stepping closer to the boy, “back out of what?”

“well i uh- do you remember how minho said i think you’re cute on the first day we talked?”

you nod.

“well...that hasn’t changed. i think you’re cute...really cute, actually.”

you blush again, just like the first time, “what does me being cute have to do with you standing in front of my car?”

“well, i don’t have a car, so i’m hoping...you can drive when we go on our first date?”

your heart nearly stops, but you start to smile.

“han jisung, are you asking me out?”

“are you saying yes?”

“yes.”

“then yeah. i am.”

your smile only gets wider as you close the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around his middle. he pats your head, a chuckle vibrating under your ear.

“also i need a ride home. minho dropped me off.”

“*sigh* jisung…”

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