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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Text

rhinestone eyes

PAIRING: Rich Boy!Eren x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS [present+future]: infidelity, dubcon, gaslighting, manipulative and toxic behavior, toxic relationship, sexual content, yandere tendencies, suggestive hand-holding

part one

kofi

There's a sneer on Eren's face as green eyes behind Versace aviators glide over your form, staring you up and down. His gaze is so penetrative, it makes your teeth chatter. Maybe he was just checking you out. Maybe he was scrutinizing every blemish.

You suddenly feel so very small in your tennis skirt, the tight collared shirt stretching over your breasts, and wished that today out of all days wasn't when you decided to dress a little more stylish.

"Fancy seeing you here." His voice is nonchalant but there's a tone of humor that accompanies his brisk words. How long would it be until he laughs at you?

He scowls, "Are you mute or something? Why aren't you greeting me back properly?"

"Eren," You took a deep breath, "What are you doing in Paris?"

It occurs to you that you've never seen him out of his uniform before. He's wearing a light blue button-down, half the buttons left unfastened, polo shorts, an expensive black watch glittering on his wrist, silver rings on his slender fingers, and a thin silver chain dangling around his neck.

He's also acquired a new piercing, industrial, judging by the bar across his ear. The silver glints harshly under the sun.

"Are you done burning holes through me?"

You blush, embarrassment coloring your cheeks: "No, I'm just surprised." You tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear, "Didn't expect to run into anyone I knew in another country."

You were just taking a pleasant walk in the acclaimed Champs-Élysées, the avenue every bit as a picture-perfect postcard as it had been described.

"Have you eaten?" The question is spoken with a sigh like he couldn't believe he was asking you this, and you couldn't either.

"Oh, um, no?" You responded, bewildered.

He runs a hand through his dark hair, which reached the nape of his neck by now: "I know a cafe around here. Let's get brunch. We'll talk there."

You don't know what possessed you to nod but you did so, trying to match his quick and long strides. The walk was silent, presumably because the two of you were saving your burning questions for the cafe.

He rolls his eyes when you stutter through your French. He raises a hand, and simply tells the waiter his order and dismisses him. His French is flawless and you're tempted to ask him how it's so good, but you already know the answer. Probably had hordes of tutors to help him.

Merci Monsieur

"Wait," You remark to Eren, "I didn't order."

"I ordered for us. Pain au chocolate, savory crepes, eggs, and ham. Coffee after. For me. Hot chocolate for you because you don't drink coffee."

Oh. That actually sounds good. How did he know your beverage preferences?

He fishes out a cigarette from his pocket, skinny and hand-rolled, "So what are you doing here? No offense but you don't exactly seem like you can afford a vacation to France. "

Now is your turn to sigh. You've nearly forgotten how blunt he could be: "Here on an internship. For art" You supply.

"I assume you just regularly come to Paris every summer?"

He doesn't deny or verify your statement, "Something like that."

"So you're staying at a hostel or?" He asks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that makes your nose wrinkle.

The waiter comes by with food, and you turn to Eren with a sour look, "I sincerely hope you're not going to smoke while we're eating."

To your utter surprise, he ashes the cigarette. You were expecting a witty and mean retort at the very minimum, not silent compliance.

You pick up the earlier conversation, "Well, I'm actually staying with my boyfriend." You mummer the last word quietly but the viridian-eyed boy's ears are keen. You don't notice how his grip on the knife tightens.

"You're staying with your boyfriend?" He repeats.

You nod, "Yeah, he's an art student too."

The rest of the meal is completed in sparing small-talk and lengths of silence. But it's not awkward. It's weird. On one hand, having brunch with Eren Yeager in fucking Paris, heir to a billionaire pharmaceutical company should feel surreal, but it's strangely peaceful. You feel more at peace sitting across from him in France than you did when he sat next to you in homeroom.

When it's time to pay the check, Eren looks amused by the very notion of you digging into your purse.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lady pay?" His words are spoken with a teasing smile.

You roll your eyes but can't help a glimmer of a smile from peeking through on your lips, "Didn't take you much for a gentleman."

He tosses his black card on the bill, "You'd be surprised."

What's there left to do now? Is it time to part ways? There's a part of you that craves more but life has taught you to not be greedy when you already have so so much.

You dabble the corner of your lips with a napkin, "Well, this has been fun-"

"Wait, uh, do you wanna check out the Louvre? Since you're an art student and all, you might uh enjoy it."

You stare at him. Is he tongue-tied?

"You've probably there been a million times already."

"Yeah...but you haven't been, right?"

You blink before breaking into a smile that Eren is sure is going to give him heart palpations, so sunny and bright.

"I would love to!"

You guys check out Mona Lisa for the sheer novelty, and you're bouncing around the museum, oohing and ahhing at the chiseled statues and Renaissance paintings. There is so much history here, it blows your mind.

Eren finds himself watching you more than the paintings. You have this veneer of snark that you wrap around yourself like a protective gauze (maybe that's how you maintain your survival in a world of hyenas) but you're different now.

You're yourself. Watching you here come alive in unbridled enthusiasm, eyes widened in passion, makes him reach out to his pocket and fish for his disposable film camera. He doesn't know if he's ever seen anyone in his vapid life look like the way you do, so filled with a zest for things that are greater than themselves.

He wants to burn you into his memory, praying to all the gods that you won't notice when he takes a picture of you admiring a bust of a goddess. He slyly tucks his camera back into his pocket.

The world seems to stand still when you tug his hand to show him a painting, an expression of unadulterated wonder on your face. But when you realize you pulled his hand, you immediately drop it like hot coals.

Why do you look so worried? Why do you look so scared?

"You can hold my hand if you want. It's-it's okay." He can't believe he's gotten the words out.

You're taking too long, your hands still hanging limply by your side, an indiscernible expression on your pretty face. Eren doesn't understand why it makes him so mad, why your sudden hesitation grated his nerves. Deciding to make your choice for you, he grabs your hand, squeezing your palm as he flashes you the charismatic smile that's got him out of countless incidents.

He doesn't like the expression of worry marring your features. Where did the happy jovial girl go? Just a few seconds, you were poking him with sparkles in your eyes, "Look at this Eren!" and "So beautiful, right?"

He forces another smile: "Show me the painting you wanted me to see." Maybe it was meant to be a request but it comes out as a demand.

You cast a glance at your joined hands, his grip borderline painful. "O-okay."

You lead him across the floor, and Eren can feel the stares of people around him. They are smiling. An older woman utters a "Un si charmant couple."

You take him to a grand painting. It's haunting and dark, swirling with so many shades of dusty red from vermillion to scarlet. A pregnant woman lies reclined, arm hanging and head lolling. She appears to be asleep, and there is a cacophony of men around her portrayed in varying degrees of stress.

"Death of a virgin", you breathed.

Such a macabre name, Eren thought as he gazed longer into the painting. He loosens his grip on your hand, testing whether you would pull away.

You don't.

It's raining outside and you're giggling.

"Fuck" Eren swears, "I'll call a cab."

You're a vision drenched in rain. Your clothes are soaked, and he could see the outline of your bra from your thin shirt. But it seems like you don't even care.

"Let's just enjoy it!" You cry out. There are thick droplets stuck in between your eyelashes, and you smell like rain too. It's dangerous, he can see chords of purple lightning flash the sky, thunder booming, and it's like you're dancing, the way you move so effortlessly.

You hook his hands in yours, "Doesn't this feel good?"

He feels like all his sins are being washed away, all the impurities and muck that clung onto him after nineteen years of existence. His heart nearly jumps out of his throat every time he looks at you.

He cups your chin and kisses you. When he feels the threadbare resistance, he kisses harsher, tongue and teeth swallowing your protests, coaxing your mouth open with a skillful pinch to your nipple. He pulls away just before you feel like all your breath has been robbed.

You're stunned speechless, "Eren...I...h-have a boyf-"

He kisses you again. And this time you kiss back, holding nothing back.

taglist: @candy-hime @cinnamon-n-roses @forwardpair

inspo: @candy-hime's rich boy!shoto. the iconic golf club one <3

#dubcon touching #rich boy eren yeager #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #eren yeager x y/n #yandere eren x reader #tw cheating #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan au #eren jaeger

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junowritings · 3 years

Note

Hello! I just saw your Kalim x reader and my heart went boom!

Is there any chance that I can request a Neige Leblanche x Fem NRC student Reader?

*Where Neige falls for her quite literally and romanticly when she is setting up for VDC. But turns out his love is somewhat forbidden in a sense.*

please and thank you! Also, question! Have you seen Yuuekn for the twst manga? He's really cute in my opinion! Have a good day!

I’m so happy to hear that you liked that hun I had a lot of hun with it~! Also I feel like writing Neige on Vil’s birthday’s gonna get me cursed but it’s fiiiine~

Also HELL YEAH I’VE SEEN YUUKEN. That man threatened Crowley with a kendo stick what a legend I can’t wait for the next volume! --------

You were only supposed to oversee the others working as VDC was being set up, to go around checking on others progress and non-too-subtly marvel at all of the booths as they were being built and arranged in the appropriate locations.

Admittedly, you were probably only allowed free reign so you didn’t get in the way of the performers as they got in some practice for the final show. If the sharp look Vil had given you when as he’d practically herded you out was anything to go by, making yourself scarce till things cooled down was your best course of action, so you’d taken to keeping track of the backstage team, if only to see all the work that went into making this long awaited event happen.

It was just pure chance that one of the second years had caught you wandering between equipment and mistook you as part of the team. Before you knew it, he was handing you an imposingly large set of speakers and asking you to get them moved back to the stage, and perhaps if you’d been more firmer about refusing, then you wouldn’t have been scrambling towards the main area, weighty equipment in tow as you hauled them alongside you.

Fortunately, the work you’d been dragged into suited you just fine; you’d worked a few backstage gigs during previous school events, thanks to the headmaster’s brilliant idea to leave professional work to a bunch of minimally trained students (seriously, what does Crowley even spend the event budget on?). Thankfully, you were well prepared, and it looked like the other ‘volunteers’ were grateful for the extra set of hands too, as before long you were being approached by some of the first year workers, asking for your advice or help because they weren’t sure what to do.

You’re overseeing one such first year as he sets up the wires for the overhead lights, peering over his shoulder from where he’s crouched and guiding him when needed. When he plugs in the last of the cords he turns to glance up at you, wordlessly seeking your approval.

You grin and flash him a thumbs up. “Hey, great job. Told ya you could do it.”

At your response the student visibly relaxes, standing up and rolling off the stiffness from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gives the lights a quick once over before shuffling back, releasing a sigh as he muses aloud. “Looks like that was the last of the tech setup; do you think we’ll be needed anywhere else?”

You give a noncommittal shrug. “Probably not; unless we’re needed down by the clubs I think they’re all set.”

Honestly, the work’s pretty much done by this point, and you’re sure that sooner or later you’ll be getting a call from Rook letting you know it’s time to rejoin the group. You’ve got to admit, you’re looking forward to seeing all of the boys’ hard work pay off - you know they’ve been busting their butts to polish their routine and you’re sure their nerves are kicking in right about now.

Maybe you could bring them something back from the stalls? A good luck charm or something to snack on to ease their nerves a bit - you’re sure Ace and Kalim would appreciate some of those ‘pick-me-up’ treats from those food stands they’d been eyeing near the entrance...

Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye mid-musing, and you find yourself pausing as you cast your gaze towards the stage. There’s several people on stage, and you know at a glance that they’re not part of the crew - the pristine white and blue uniforms were a dead giveaway as is, but as you watch the small group move along the structure you freeze, eyes narrowing.

Are those...kids?

You can’t be certain, given that you’re pretty sure this is a students only event, however you’re transfixed on watching them chatter happily to one another as they point at the different decorations strung up all over the venue. There’s one boy among them that you notice, namely because he’s the tallest of the small, merry group; his smile is bright and gentle as he laughs along with his friends, guiding two of them by the hands so that the group doesn’t get separated.

The sight is cute, no one can deny, and it's enough to tug a smile at the corner of your lips. The student beside you notices your silence and follows your gaze, gasping when he spots who you’re looking at.

“Wha-Neige is here already?!”

“Neige?” You look between the student and the boy, confused.

Now where have you heard that name before…

Your eyes widen when you remember. Of course, Neige Leblanche! That guy you’d seen from those interviews! You remember how miffed Vil had gotten when at the sight of the soft spoken boy when they’d worked a shoot together, just about dragging you and Rook out with him before Neige had even finished his segment. Apparently they were rivals or something, but you’d never gotten the chance to ask before Vil had shut that conversation down the moment it started.

Remembering the tempered scowl on Vil’s otherwise pristine face brought a frown to your own. What was it about this guy that he’d hated so much? The more you watched Neige the more he seemed about as nice as you’d expect, regarding his friends with a soft smile that radiated nothing but warmth and kindness as they swarmed around him, all smiles and laughter.

One of the boys tottered away from the group, wandering over to the edge of the stage to look down at the people still milling about. His fingers were wound into the scarf around his neck, pulling it up close to his face as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking around with curious eyes. Eventually, he spotted you off to the side and you found yourself smiling as you offered a small wave.

The boy’s face brightened and he didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, waving back and letting go of his scarf long enough for you to see him smiling back at you. You chuckled a little at the sight, but the little moment doesn’t last long before his face suddenly scrunches up, discomfort crossing his face.

“A-Achoo!”

He sneezes violently enough that it completely knocks him off balance, and your face pales when you watch him start to topple off of the stage. People have wrecked their ankles just trying to jump from that height, so the moment you see him start to fall you’re running to catch him, arms stretching out before you’ve even reached him.

“Ah! Snick!”

Neige notices his friend beginning to tumble and crosses the stage before you get there, calling out the boy's name as a hand reaches out to grab the back of that peach scarf and uses the garment to pull him upright. You’d have been relieved if the momentum of yanking him back hadn’t sent Neige falling right off in his place, and now you’re running to catch a different boy as you watch him go over the edge.

Fortunately, the split second difference between him and Snick gives you enough time to reach him, and Neige lands in your open arms not a moment after you get there with a gasp at the force. Mentally congratulating yourself for the good catch, you look down at the boy nestled in your arms, who looks back up at you with a surprised expression.

His hair’s skewed, hat having landed somewhere in the fall as soft black strands fall over his face and brush against his lashes. He’s close enough that you’re pretty sure that you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, and his eyes are wide - you guess he’s still shaken from the tumble - but up close you can see just how striking they are, a deep brown easing into a honey color.

‘No wonder this guy’s an actor,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘He looks like he’s straight from a painting.’

You shake the thought away and focus on the moment, lips parting to ask. “Are you okay?”

For a beat, Neige blinks up at you, speechless before breaking from his apparent reverie with a start.

“O-Oh! Y-yes, thank you.” you watch a pink hue rise to his face, dusting across his cheeks as he brings a hand to fix his collar, gaze never straying from your own.

Your expression softens at the response. How cute.

“Niege! Neige, are you okay?!”

A voice calls out, and you look up just in time to spot Neige’s gaggle of friends as they race down the stage stairs, moving to converge around you and the boy in your arms. The one who yelled - with silver hair and glasses - seems relieved when he sees Niege is unharmed, and Snick looks on the verge of tears as he shuffles to his friend’s side, bumbling apologies between sniffles.

Neige smiles and reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Snick’s hair. “It’s alright; I’m fine, everyone.”

The spectacled boy turns to you and bows. “Thank you so much for your help!”

You shuffle anxiously at the praise. “Ah, well, it’s no sweat, really - I’m glad I caught him in time! Heh…”

Both you and Neige sneak a look at one another, and as your eyes meet you become acutely aware of the fact that you’re still holding him to your chest. Masking your embarrassment with a cough, you loosen your grip enough for him to ease back onto his feet. He smooths out his sweater and you lean down to grab his hat, shaking it back into shape before moving to place it back onto his head.

You don’t think twice about tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear until he lets out a soft “Oh!” and you fluster, bringing your hands to your chest as he mirrors the motion.

“Thank you for catching me!” he hums, words sincere as he gives a little bow of his own.

“It’s no problem!” you give an idle wave, rubbing the back of your neck as you add. “Besides, the headmaster would have my head if another school’s student got hurt on our school grounds!”

Neige raises a brow at your words, but laughs along with you when you chuckle.

“So, you guys are entering VDC, right?” you venture a guess, changing the subject, and you watch the group nod in various degrees of agreement.

“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone perform!” Neige beams at the mention of the event. “Are you a member of the NRC team…?”

He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know your name; when you tell him, he repeats the name back to himself softly, as though making sure to remember it.

“As for me? I’m not on their team, well, technically.” you find yourself hesitating for a moment. “I’m more of a manager, cheering on the team and helping out with set-up. Though, Vil’s been handling most of the work, heh.”

“Vil?” he parrots back to you, looking visibly delighted at the name Happy to ramble about your friend, you’re quick to continue.

“Yeah! He’s been working really hard with everyone to polish their performance - I swear, you’re gonna love it! He’s actually-”

“(Y/N)-!”

You freeze, head whipping in the direction of the voice, spotting Vil striding in your direction as the crowd parts seamlessly to move out of his way. You grin as you watch him approach, but your smile falters a bit when you see his expression. Though his face remains carefully neutral, you’ve known him long enough to recognize that he’s positively seething, and you have no idea what’s got him so angry.

Still surprised to see him, you shift to face him. “Oh, hey Vil! What are you doing-?”

“We need to go.” Vil’s voice is stern, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder guiding you away from Niege and back towards the way he’d come from.

“Wha-why?” you sputter, confused.

“The event’s nearly starting, and we’re up first - you’re going to be late.”

He punctuates each word carefully, though gives you a surprisingly soft smile and brings his free hand to rest against your back when he notices the confusion visible on your face. “The others are waiting for you.” he adds, as though working to ease your concern as he continues to walk with you.

“O-oh, okay.” you fumble for a moment before craning your neck to look back at Neige, giving him the brightest smile you can muster as you wave.

“See you later, Neige! Good luck with the performance~!”

Neige returns the wave, soft smile betrayed by furrowed brows as he watches your retreating form disappear back into the bustle of people. For a few moments he tries to spot you in the crowd before reluctantly giving up, bringing a hand up to his chest and lightly grasping his sweater between his fingers.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbles aloud, hoping to himself that this isn’t the last time he sees you today.

#Anonymous #twst #twisted wonderland #imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #request #ask

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duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train.

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work.

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside.

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again.

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines.

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along.

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.”

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead.

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it.

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile.

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you.

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not.

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride.

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you.

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?”

“oops. busted.” you laugh.

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer.

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero.

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back.

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings.

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.”

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear.

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise.

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark.

“p-people are gonna see.”

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh.

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably.

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping.

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers.

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.”

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt.

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations.

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines.

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly.

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams.

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so.

“aizawa..?”

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat.

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you.

“you’re out of your–!”

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock.

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance.

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls.

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more.

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit.

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace.

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock.

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix.

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes.

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you.

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.”

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently.

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa smut #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa fanfic #bnha fanfic #bnha aizawa #r; writes #tw; noncon #tw; dubcon #tw; stalking #tw; assault

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

As Soon As I Can

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from @alienstardust: Umm All the angst in those childhood prompts. I’m a fan! Yes! <3 Maybe something with Nestor? 💫 thank you

I went with this prompt from This Post: When Person A and Person B were kids, Person A broke their arm and had to wear a cast for a while. To make them feel better, Person B decorated it by drawing a bunch of doodles and quotes all over it. When Person A finally got the cast off, they asked the doctor if they could keep it. Years later, Person A takes the cast to a tattoo artist and gets all of Person B’s doodles and quotes tattooed onto their arm so they can wear them forever.

Warnings: language, angst, hospitals

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I looooooved writing this. Writing has been tough for me lately but this just felt really right. This is my first fic where I’ve done a lot of time skips within the story so hopefully it flows alright. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck

You and Nestor were sitting in your back yard, sprawled out together under the one tree that managed to survive so many years in the California heat. You were laying on your back, cast-bound arm lying rigidly out to the side. You were staring up through the leaves as you listened to Nestor talk.

“At least they let you pick the color,” he was next to you, laying on his stomach as he dug through his backpack.

You laugh was heavy with sarcasm, “Yea, if I’m not gonna be able to move my arm for the next eight weeks it’s the least they could fucking do.”

“You sound bitter.”

You looked over at him, “I am bitter.”

He chuckled and shook his head, he was about to come back with a witty remark when he got distracted by finding whatever he had been looking for. He smiled as he pulled it out, “Aha!” he held up his pack of Sharpies.

“What’re those for?” you nodded towards the markers.

“For your cast.”

“You’re gonna decorate my cast?” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he was carefully choosing a few different markers to start with, “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about totally eating it falling off your skateboard the other day.”

You laughed as you reached over and shoved him with your good arm, “Shut up—like you haven’t fallen a million times.”

“No casts for me, though,” there was a cocky smirk on his face.

“No casts for me, though,” you mocked as you tried not to laugh.

You watched him in semi-silence as he started at your wrist and slowly but surely made his way up your cast, covering it with all sorts of doodles and quotes. Sometimes you forgot how artistic he could be. You went back and forth between watching him and just resting your head back and closing your eyes. Neither of you kept track of the time as he stayed sprawled on his stomach beside you. the two of you probably would’ve stayed out until dark if your mom hadn’t stuck her head out and said that Nestor’s brother was there to pick him up and bring him home. Nestor threw all of his things back into his bag before helping you up.

Once he was gone, you took some time to actually look at the cast. You smiled at the amount of work he put into something that you were only going to have for a couple months. Your fingers traced lightly over the many marker lines that now covered your cast. Your mother looked over your shoulder at the artwork, a smile passing over her lips for a moment.

“Did Nestor do that?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of your arm, “Yea.”

She nodded, “That was sweet of him.”

You scoffed trying to suppress the smile on your face, “I guess.”

The next eight weeks passed by. And, despite the fact that having your arm in a cast was incredibly inconvenient, it could have been a lot worse. Nestor walked with you to all of your classes, offering to carry your backpack despite the fact that you told him that your busted arm had nothing to do with your ability to carry a bag. Whenever the two of you were together and things were quiet, he would keep adding onto the tiny mural that was your cast. Sometimes you wondered how much more he could fit on it, but he always found a way. For as much as you wanted it off, you were going to miss the bonding time for the two of you. And you were going to miss the artwork, too.

“So,” the doctor smiled and nodded at you, “you are all good to go. We can get the cast off and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Yea?” the thought of having your arm back made you feel giddy.

“Absolutely.”

You felt like a new person once your arm was free of the confines of the cast. Letting out a sigh of relief, you rotated your wrist a few times and carefully ran your fingers over the freshly-exposed skin, glad to feel like you were back in control of your own body.

“I can get rid of this,” your doctor held up the cast he’d just finished so carefully removing, “Unless you want to keep it as a momento.”

“Um, actually,” you felt your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with your mother, “Could I keep it?”

The doctor nodded, smiling as he handed it over to you, “It’s quite the work of art at this point—I understand wanting to hold onto it.”

On the drive home, you felt your mother glancing over at you every couple of minutes, a knowing smile on her face. You tried to ignore it but eventually you broke.

“What?” you were careful of your tone.

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Nothing. Just, I think it’s nice that you’re keeping it, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks again, but that only made it worse.

You never told Nestor that you kept the cast. You never really knew exactly why you didn’t tell him—the two of you told each other pretty much everything else. The two of you spent almost all of your free time together, and as soon as he found out that your cast had been removed he was dragging you right back out to do things that could potentially break your arm all over again, and you let him. He never asked about the cast, so you never brought it up. There were moments, as the two of you got a little older, where you wanted to mention it to him in passing that it was something that you kept, but the moment never seemed quite right. Each time you went to clean out your room and your closet you would come across it, and each time you were faced with the decision of whether or not you wanted to keep it, and you always did. You always told yourself that you didn’t know why, but you knew.

“Alright,” you were trying not to let yourself get too emotional as you sat cross-legged on his bed watching him pack “You can’t do anything stupid while I’m not around to yell at you for it, alright?”

He chuckled as he shoved another shirt into his bag, “Trust me, there will be plenty of other people around to yell at me. That’s the whole point of—”

“But they can’t do it as well as I can.”

He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. He knew how upset you were despite the fact that you were still being supportive. Him going into the Navy was something that you hadn’t seen coming. The thought of him being gone for so long after the two of you had spent so much of your lives practically joined at the hip was a bit jarring. You knew the ache in your chest was caused by more feelings than you were ready to admit to him, or to yourself.

“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me.”

You huffed, “Snail mail is not the same as bothering you in person,” you flopped backwards on the bed, “And for the record I still think it’s bullshit that you don’t get to call me.”

He laughed as he stood up and sat on the bed, looking down at you, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be in basic for less time than you had that stupid cast on your arm.”

“Yea but it’s not like you’re coming right home after that.”

He nodded, his expression sobering a little as he continued to look at you, “I know.”

“You’ll come home to visit me as soon as you can?”

He chuckled, nodding, “As soon as I can.”

For a moment you thought about spilling your guts—telling him everything that you were thinking and feeling. There was something about the way that he was looking at you that made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. But the confidence that shot through you went away as quickly as it appeared, and the moment passed as he continued to pack his things.

True to his word, you got letters in the mail. You saved each one, kept them stashed away in your closet alongside the cast that was still there collecting dust even after years of being shuffled around. You sent more letters than you received, not that you really minded. You figured that he needed them more than you did.

However as the months ticked by, you waited for him to say he was coming home, but he never did. It was one thing right into the next and the more time that passed by, the more you wondered if this was how he slipped away from you, even though he swore that that wouldn’t happen. He reached out when he could, when he had the time. And you knew that he had other priorities, and realistically you did too. But there was still part of you that felt like things were changing too much.

Your heart sped up inside your chest when you got a late-night phone call from him. You scrambled to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey,” he sounded exhausted.

“Hey,” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you spoke to him, “H-how are you?”

“I’m alright,” he sighed, “It’s good to hear your voice.”

You smiled despite the weight settling in your chest, “It’s good to hear yours too. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

You didn’t want to push and pry, but you couldn’t help asking, “When are you coming home?”

There was a long pause before he spoke up again, “I, uh, I don’t really know.”

“Don’t they give you guys leave or something?”

He let out a tired chuckle, “Yea. But, um, I’m not sure if I’m going to be coming home for leave anytime soon.”

Your heart crumped inside your chest, “Why not?”

“Got some shit that I’m working on lining up here. Doesn’t hurt to stay close.”

You hated that your bottom lip was beginning to tremble, “Right.”

He knew you too well and you could hear the shift in his tone, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you replied immediately, “Fuck, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you, really. Keep…keep doing your thing.”

“Thank you for always being there. It’s been…it’s been nice knowing someone is in my corner when no one else seems to be,” there was a beat of silence, “You seen my family lately?”

You took a deep breath, “No. Why, everything alright?”

He sighed, “Wouldn’t know.”

You pressed your lips together into a tight line—things had never been simple for him when it came to family, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be home to see you as soon as I can be, alright?”

Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, “Alright,” you were about to say goodbye but your brain betrayed you, “Hey, Nestor?”

“Yea?”

“I love you,” the words fell from your lips, free of their confines after so many years of locking them away.

It might’ve been you projecting, but you could’ve sworn that he let out a sigh of relief, “I love you too.”

That was the last thing that you’d heard from him. He went radio silent after that. You wondered if it was just you that he was ignoring, but no one seemed to have heard anything from him—his own family included. The only things that were running through your mind were terrible. All of your calls went unanswered, all of your texts went unopened. The letters that you sent didn’t get kicked back to you but you never got responses to any of them either. He had blipped off the radar seemingly without a trace and you had no idea why. You lost a lot of sleep over it but at the same time, life didn’t stop for anyone. You had to keep moving forward while a very large part of you was stuck in the past.

You were packing up your room, getting ready to move into your own apartment. You were throwing things from your closet into random bags and boxes—organization had never been your strong suit. As you were leafing through everything, pulling things down off the top shelf of your closet, you were smacked in the face with a stack of papers. You managed to catch them before they hit the ground, tears instantly springing into your eyes when you realized what they were. Your heart sped up inside your chest as you stood on your tip-toes, reaching for the very back of the shelf. The feeling of the plaster underneath your fingers sent a shock through your body as you pulled it towards you. Looking over it, you were bombarded with an onslaught of memories.

Packing fell by the wayside as you sat on your bed, reading through the letters and looking over all the artwork that was still holding up on the cast. How you managed to keep your tears from falling, you didn’t know.

There was a light knock on your door and you looked up, trying to make yourself look much less upset than you were. The smile immediately dropped from your mother’s face when she saw what you were doing, how it was upsetting you. She leaned against the doorframe as she tried to figure out what to say to you to try and make things better.

“I’m sorry, honey,” her tone was sincere.

You shook your head as you set your cast to the side, “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You hadn’t really spoken much to her about it all—there wasn’t a whole lot to say. You didn’t have any answers and with each day that went by it was less likely that you would ever get them. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was more reassuring for you that no one had heard from him, not just you.

“There’s nothing to talk about. He just fucking disappeared, I guess. I just need to accept it and get on with my life.”

“He was your best friend—you’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”

Even though you knew it, it was nice to hear her say it to you. Wiping the tears from your eyes before they could stain your cheeks, you nodded, “I know.”

She lightly drummed her fingers on the door frame, “You keeping those?”

There was a long pause before you finally nodded, “I think so.”

She nodded, “I’ll go grab you another box.”

“This thing looks like it’s been through the wringer,” your tattoo artist chuckled as she looked over the cast you’d brought with you.

You managed a smile, “Because it has. I’ve had that thing since I was in, fucking, like eighth grade I think? Long time.”

“What made you decide to get this done now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Figured it’ll be better than moving it from one closet to the next over the course of my life.”

You could tell by the look on her face, that she wanted to ask for the story behind it all. But the fact that you didn’t offer it up, made her not pry. You’d always been open so if you were keeping something to yourself, she respected that. The two of you talked about the logistics of it, and the changes you want to make to clean it up a little bit. You were excited to come back and get it done, though.

Despite the wait, your excitement and nervousness about coming back didn’t fade. You didn’t regret the decision, but it was still nerve-wracking as you got ready to sit down in the chair. She had you look over the pattern she’d drawn up, and when you gave her the okay she laid the stencil out on your arm and got to work. You watched her as she brought it all to life—it was a little cleaner and more grown-up than the original scribbles and doodles, but it felt right. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes but it wasn’t because of the physical pain of getting the tattoo.

She was wrapping it up in saranwrap as she gave you the run-down of taking care of the tattoo. You’d heard the spiel before but you still listened anyway. You had a hard time taking your eyes off of the artwork as you made your way back out to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you let out a sigh as you tried to inspect the ink as best you could through the wrap around your arm.

The next day, you were putting on a fresh wrap over your tattoo after your shower when you heard your phone buzzing in the next room. With a heavy sigh, you slapped a piece of tape onto the wrap and scrambled to get to your phone before you missed the call. Looking down at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number. But it was an off-hour for a scammer to be calling so you answered it on a whim. Worst case scenario you would just hang up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Rita and I work at Imperial Hospital. I’m looking for Ms. Y/N?”

“Um, speaking?” you had no idea where this was going.

“Good morning. Someone was admitted and you are their only emergency contact—no next of kin listed. Do you know a Mr. Nestor Oceteva?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “Yes,” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes I do. Is he alright?”

“He’s going to be fine,” her tone was calm enough to give you the smallest sliver of reassurance, “But we do need you to come in and answer some questions for us. He’s been in and out of it and we need someone who can give us reliable information.”

“O-okay. Yea. Yea I’ll leave right now. It’ll be about an hour or so before I get there though. Is that alright? He’s going to be okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s going to be fine. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

You hung up the phone and started flying around your apartment to get ready. You had no idea what you were about to be walking into but at this point you didn’t care. All these years you’ve been wondering about him and he was two towns over. You were as angry as you were relieved.

The line of questions that the nurses asked you seemed endless. You knew that it was all important but there was nothing that you wanted more than to be in the room and see that it really was him, that this wasn’t just some cruel trick from the universe.

Finally, the nurse started walking you back. You only heard half of what she was saying to you about his condition as the two of you approached the room. You heard that he was stable and the rest didn’t really matter to you. your hands were trembling as she gestured to the door to his room, telling you that she would give you a few minutes to yourselves.

You slowly opened the door and a sob lodged itself in your throat as you looked at him. He was passed out, whether the sleep was genuine or from the meds you didn’t know. Truthfully, it was almost difficult to see that it was the Nestor you knew and loved—but you could still see it. Underneath the cuts and scrapes, beneath the braids and the tattoos, there was still your Nestor. The man you knew all those years ago was somewhere underneath it all.

Walking over, you collapsed in the chair next to his bed. You reached out and took his hand in your own, seeing the scars and scabs that covered his knuckles. Whatever he’d been doing all those years, it wasn’t treating him well. You let out a shaky breath as the tears started to fall. You tried to keep your emotions bottled up and quiet, but you couldn’t. There were too many there that you had been battling with and pushing down over the years.

Your crying made him stir. With a quiet groan of pain he opened his eyes and turned to look and see who was in the room with him. His entire body went stiff as his eyes flew completely open, unable to believe that you were sitting there with him.

“H-holy shit,” he coughed, trying to sit up, “Y/N?”

He was conscious and able to speak, so you punched him in the upper arm, “As soon as I can my ass, Nestor.”

He winced and smiled, and you could see all of the motions in his eyes, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“You fucking should be.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

There were a few beats of silence and then he heard the crinkling of the wrap on your arm as you crossed them and he nodded towards it, “Fresh?”

Heat instantly flooded to your face and you fought the urge to get up and run out of the room, “Got it yesterday.”

“Can I see?”

You hated that he was talking to you like everything was normal, but you couldn’t lie and said that you didn’t miss it. Taking a deep breath, you laid your arm down on the hospital bed for him to inspect. A smile instantly took over his features when he saw what it was. He looked up at you, and when he saw the happiness and hurt both in your expression, his smile dulled a little bit.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, Nestor?”

“I know, I know. I should’ve said something.”

“Uh…yea.”

“When they let me out of here, will you let me take you somewhere and tell you all about it?”

“I mean. I guess. But only because I’m nosey,” you managed a smile through the tears.

“I love you.”

The words made your heart skip a beat in your chest, “I love you too.”

“That’s way less clunky than a cast,” he tapped the plastic wrap.

You smiled, wiping the tears away, “Yea, I guess so.”

“I can’t believe you still have the same number after all these years.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, “I kept it in case your ass decided to smarten up and call me one of these days.”

“Hospital calling you on my behalf doesn’t count?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No. No it doesn’t.”

He reached over and clasped your hand in his, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his forehead, careful to miss all the scrapes, “Me too.”

There was so much more to be said, but it could wait. You tried to soak up the feeling of his hand over yours, smiles appearing on both of your faces despite the lost time and the gravity of the situation. A lot of things had changed, but as you felt the heat from his palm and the way his thumb traced back and forth over your hand, you knew the important things were still exactly the same.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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i-need-air · 3 years

Note

Oh-- I really really -really- liked your wolf hybrid Bakugou and-- if you don't mind, can you do one on Kirishima? Just the general headcanons, if this is too bothersome then you can ignore this once again- thank you

Just general headcanons you say? Okay, I had this written 2k words in before I got this ask and now it's at... ehem, let me take a deep breath for this;

Word count: 3.5k 💀 [of HCs 💀💀💀]

Why do I keep doing this to myself aksdjkd I love Kiri so much, my god! Thanks for the ask!! 💗

[ Masterlist ]

Hybrid!AU Kirishima Eijirou HCs

× i mentioned him as a dog hybrid and we're sticking with it because it just feels right, yano? anyway!

× you found out about how the new hybrid shelter in your city helped bust a fighting ring

× which was horrifying to think about

× one of your friends explained the process to you and you were definitely interested in helping someone out

× shelters were still underfunded and didn't provide much to help the hybrids adapt to society

× so you found yourself in front of the shelter without a plan

× just a dream and a spare couch that could thankfully convert into a bed

× before you could chicken out you stormed through the doors like a mad person, catching the attention of the guards and the front desk man

× it surprised you how disinterested they were though; were they seriously the people that dismantled a whole illegal fighting ring?

× they called a sweet old lady to accompany you

× when you explained your situation her eyes sparkled, looking you up and down and nodding her head

× she took you through some hallways, showing you around the precinct, questioning you about what type of hybrid you'd want

× to which you honestly didn't know how to respond, like anyone you could help????

× it kinda pissed you off how she spoke about the hybrids like they were pets, suggesting you'd get a kitty or a bunny, since [her words] they were low maintenance

× is this really a good shelter?

× you looked around, finding prison like cells left and right, some with people that looked at you curiously, some covering from your glance

× they were locked in...

× some growling could be heard far away but the woman shook her head at you, disapproving gaze turned to the side as she took you further into the building

× another room, this time cells were bigger, a few occupied, yet covered from you, indiferent and uninterested

× a man was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in his hair

× "Kirishima, boy, get up to greet someone"

× his red eyes snapped up, whatever he was thinking about slowly forgotten

× he blinked curiously as you hugged your frame, feeling uncomfortable, even ashamed to be there

× but a sweet smile took over his features

× "Hey! I'm Kirishima Eijirou!"

× it's really all it took for you to grow fond of him; he got up and came closer to the entrance of the cell and introduced himself in such easy-going manner you forgot about everything and anything

× he calmed you with his presence, even if it was very disheveled, with old ripped clothes and hair messy, painted red with obvious dark roots showing

× he had a black fluffy tail waving slowly behind him too

× you introduce yourself with his encouragement and mumbled how you wanted to help someone out today

× he just smiled at you, taking you in

× let me tell you something about dog hybrids: they can sense emotions and intentions so Kiri would be a very good judge of character and he really, genuinely took a liking on you

× the problem is how the fuck do you say out loud that you wanted to help him out

× because you sure as hell weren't going to say you'd adopt him; he's not a child? we're talking about a grown ass man here? literally looked like 6'4ft/1.95m?????

× it was so shameful, your gut turned as you cursed society and he sensed it, expression changing, falling a little as he saw you look very out of place

× "Hey, hey, everything's gonna be fine!" he said

× he told YOU that

× instead of YOU telling HIM those words;;; you almost burst into ugly crying, forgetting about everything else, your minuscule problems or shame or whatever and just nodded at him

× "Would you like to come home with me, Kirishima?" you said, ignoring the happy clapping the old lady was doing, watching carefully how his expression, clear as water, switched from easy-going and reassuring to shocked then hopeful

× "I'd like that" he breathed out "—a lot."

× as you went out the lady was telling him it was a shame they separated his group of friends, something about being sent to different shelters, how he had to be a good boy, to behave, yada-yada and seriously;;; he was taking it so lightheartedly, as if he was so used to this behavior or even was thankful for it?

× it was starting to get annoying, specially when they gave you a collar for him, like no fucking thanks, but you'd take care of it later

× since it was very random and unplanned, you were making mental gymnastics to figure out what to get and what to do first, like clothes, food—

× journey home was pleasant as he walked close to you, asking you questions about yourself with a gentle smile on his features

× meanwhile people got out of both your ways because he was intimidating and big and large but his smile screamed sunshine

× all while he never really mentioned anything about himself

× you made a point to ask him if he was hungry, to grab a quick bite at any restaurant you could get at then go buy some clothes and necessities

× you were so casual and this guy was so shocked

× i swear, looks at you blinking stupidly then ✨beams✨

× spoiler alert; big boy was hungry

× it didn't matter honestly, just seeing him eat without a worry [even if everyone at the restaurant was wary of him but got a stink eye from you] was a relief

× since you answered his questions about you, you decided to ask some about him; you were going to be roomies soon so might as well get to know each other

× shocked again

× stops mid-bite when you ask him something and stares wide-eyed

× doesn't answer but you can see he wants to and you're confused??

× "did I—... did I say something wrong?" you'd press, scared you'd spook him away or something

× he just gulps down and looks ashamed

× casually tells you they've been told at the shelter owners don't care about them

× 🙃 say what now bby?

× he kinda starts apologizing because he understands why you wouldn't wanna know and you put your hand on his; kinda mutes him for a second

× "Kirishima, we're gonna live together and hopefully be friends in the process, right? I'd like to know about you, as much as you're willing to tell me"

× [ falls in love right then and there ]

× he's met humans before, many actually—

× even in the short weeks he's been at the shelter he's seen people come and go and none talked to him like you did

× stares with stars in his eyes and chuckles awkwardly, blush on his face

× "You're really nice, [Y/N]" he said before eagerly answering your questions; course, it leaves you confused lmfao but you brush past it

× okay! shopping next, long story short it was very hard to find hybrid clothes for his size so you pick to change human clothes and adjust them for him

× as you again mention this stuff casually he's just awestruck

× when you got home, bags in hand, you were explaining to him how you really didn't have much; you were working to get a promotion soon but for now you had a couch that could open up into a very comfy bed, which he assured you it was enough

× you were lowkey unsure if he fit it because like i mentioned, big boi is big

× he does! so that's a relief but you started considering giving him your bed; you mostly fell asleep on the couch anyway and to be fair, it was really comfortable and you mention it as he looks around

× his head snaps at you, wide eyed, yet does not talk

× so you ramble bc that's something fun to do! "I mean I went to the shelter without a plan and uh, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible and maybe the bed is a better fit and—"

× Kirishima Eijirou sees: 💕💞💕💞💕💞💕

× has never been treated like this, like he's an... equal... something he'll take months to share with you, but we're getting ahead of ourselves

× the thing is this boy will fall pretty hard pretty fast, but will definitely take time to make a move

× bc he is respectful

× so he thanks you for the offer and tells you it's probably the best place he slept in all his life

× can your heart stop breaking for him? i mean it's a good couch but it's no luxury hotel bed???

× [ we need to pause, OP made herself sad ]

× ok, so he's really helpful around the house, and he knows how to cook!

× takes no time to talk about his friends, special his best friend that cooked for everyone at the fighting ring and forced them all to help and that's how he was pretty decent at cooking himself

× wasn't the best though, but followed instructions like a boss

× he lives for your compliments

× literally his tail wiggles with no shame

× seriously;; tell him he did a good job even at the dumbest thing and—

× puffs chest

× wiggle-wiggle

× "Thanks!"

× 🥺💕💞 make him stop, he's so cute

× did i mention he has like floppy black ears? Omg his earsssssssssshnnngggggggggg

× because they move whenever he walks and they're mesmerizing

× and one day that you're observing them for science [not because your heart was like 💘pom-pom💘] you noticed his roots

× remember when your heart broke for him? hah, have some more because as you asked him, he started telling you that he was pushed into dying his hair red for the spectacle, diversity and what-not

× reassured you he grew to love it now, being part of who he is

× also gets a little bit shy when adding he wouldn't want to change the color in hopes of finding his friends someday and for him to be easily recognizable

× you bought him hair dye that same day

× WHICH! apart from gaining extra 🥺💕💞 from him, it created a nice routine between you two!!

× you offered to dye his hair and it was such a great time; he made you laugh, conversation going just as easy whenever you talked, you got to know each other a little bit more and—

× heh

× at the end, after applying all the red hair dye, you massaged his scalp gently

× guess who melts in your hands? yes, giant ass dog-man melts into a puddle under your hands and it's the cutest fucking thing you've ever seen

× I'm serious, he sighs and leans into your gloved hands with zero [0] shame, eyes closed and peaceful expression on his features apart from a small smile

× you tease him and he laughs it off, but promise him you'd give him head scratches when he was finished with the dye, washed off and hair dry

× and you better deliver

× "Don't think I forgot!" he'd say as he'd hop on his make-shift bed in the living room by your side, tail moving from side to side

× as you start playing with his locks, he falls into your lap and starts snoring

× move an inch and he opens his eyes to look at you confused

× puppy eyes questioning you if you're leaving 🥺

× yep, you fall asleep together

× you point out to yourself that those puppy eyes will be the death of you

× he's a touchy guy, okay? since he's been touchy with you from the very start you never questioned it, even read on the internet that many hybrids descended from house pets need physical affection, like hugs, pats, scratches, all the bag, so it wasn't a big deal for you

× except it was a big deal because he's been around for a month and you're already catching feelings and that's bad because you did not bring him there to fall for him but to help him start a new life and—

× oh my god, what if he thought you were one of those people from the horror stories about hybrid adoption that only wanted them for one thing—

× no, no, no, nO, NO.

× anxiety was getting to you as the guilt of catching feelings for him, plus the fact that he was financially dependant on you for the time which would've made it even worse if he found out, PLUS he comes from such a rough life, he definitely needs a break and doesn't need his first human friend in forever to be a piece of;;;

× Kiri catches on this really constant and increasing feeling of anxiety; he starts to send you worried glances but doesn't know how to proceed

× in such a soft voice he asks if you're okay, if something is on your mind

× and since you weren't sharing anything but acted as if everything was alright even when he felt you lied, Kiri started to get worried too

× why were you anxious? why weren't you talking to him about it?

× oh, god, was he a burden? because he felt like one;;; did you want him out? he felt like an extra weight for you and wanted to do something about it but maybe you got sick of him? he felt unmanly...

× the fact that he knew he cared about you as more than just a friend made him even more anxious and it didn't help that whenever he touched you he heard your breath hitch or your heart beating louder; he got his hopes up then down because

× you smelled like people; people he didn't know, people he wanted to know because he needed to know why did you smell like them? were they a treat? were they potential partners? he really did not want to ask bc Kirishima felt like it wasn't his place to know

× as tension grew in the house you decided to gift him a new phone, ready to give him some news that reached your ears

× it seems Kiri himself liked to do sports and mainly jog to keep himself active and he's started to pass by the local dog-park to play with the dogs

× imagine your surprise when a few neighbors asked you if he'd be willing to train their dogs bc he's been teaching them stuff like once a week and the dogs listened

× big time dog whisperer; he says "Sit" to one dog and all dogs in the neighborhood sit too, you get me?

× so you said it would be nice for him to have his own money; not like you didn't help him without care, but you saw his face every time you bought something for him and really felt like he needed some real independence

× he's in ✨awe✨ because you came up with clients already that were very eager for dog training sessions, which he loved??? and suggested hours, wages??????

× and you gave him this new phone to help him with it if he's interested too?

× "Well, the normal price on the internet around the area is—"

× "[Y/N]."

× "Hmm?"

× "You're really amazing, you know that, right?" he'd have his lips curled into a sweet smile

× which makes your heart go crazy and this man notices how you get flustered

× loves it

× get ready for compliments; a lot of compliments just expecting your sweet flustered reactions

× he's slow at realizing your feelings for him because he beats himself down and seems himself as less of a man but tests the waters nonetheless and a d o r e s every time you struggle to thank him for said compliments and don't know how to continue functioning

× catches on and gets his hopes up

× and so you do

× listen, this is hilarious because you're both dumb idiots and want to be respectful towards the other meanwhile he hugs you tighter and for a little bit too long, loving how you melt into him, kisses you on the cheek and sees you get all flustered, looks at you like you're the only one to ever matter until you stop talking, turning everything into a giant mess of silence until you both grin at each other???? I'm getting second-hand embarrassment, just kiss???????

× and it happened with an accidental kiss

× you greeted him as he walked through the door, excited to tell him about your promotion, rambling about the take-out you ordered while he smiled at you

× and it started to be usual for you to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, right? just what normal roomies do, you know [mhmm~]

× he's taking his shoes off and knows the kiss is coming, but just before you press it on his cheek you whisper/squeal "I got the promotion!" to which he turns his head in surprise at you making your lips press together by accident [mhhhmmmmm~~~]

× cue both of you apologizing, looking like a mess

× he's blushing

× you both loved it

× why are you standing so close to each other?

× why did he lick his lips in daze while staring at yours?

× which one of you was leaning in for another kiss?

× it didn't really matter because he's kissing you slowly, taking you into his arms like you were made of porcelain

× glues his body to yours and breathes you in, lips locked, neither believing it was real

× lifts you up in his arms with no difficulty and smiles, both inches separated from another; "Congratulations..." his breath would fan over your face;;;;

× yeah, okay, he takes no time to confess, resulting in a mess of manly words skdjekldj you guys talked that whole night while cuddling and stealing kisses, you on his lap

× [ his nose brushing your neck; he loves your scent omg ]

× it becomes official pretty much instantly and then all your worries wash away

× all the anxiety, all the stress and overthinking, they've all been sorted out in one night and trust me, afterwards this man is pure honesty and loyalty

× he won't hesitate to talk to you about anything and will be such a patient sweetheart with you, listening to every word you say without judgment

× loves cheesy stuff? as in the most cliché stuff seen in movies? that's his shit right there; whenever you two see each other after some time apart [sometimes 5 minutes apart] he'd pick you in his arms and spin you around, then expect you to kiss him

× if you don't, i will skfjdkfk step aside 👀

× skin contact; please, touch him

× if you're not he sends you those famous puppy eyes and we all know they're killer

× sighs, happy to hold you tight against him, engulfing you into his big frame; yeah, you're where you belong, in his arms.

× everyone in the neighborhood loves him; it's ridiculous, seriously, because you find out he helped around all the time when you were at work and gained everyone's love

× makes an instagram account to teach people how to train their dog and becomes an internet sensation, a small celebrity

× also bc he's hot and sometimes posts working out pics

× skdksjs imagine this: makes dinner for both of you, lits up some candles, goes all in, then fucking posts it on ig saying "waiting for my baby to come home #surprise" forgetting you can see it lmfao

× you see the story on your way home and 🥺💞 "ye i love his oblivious ass"

× soft gasps when you tell him after dinner

× has the audacity to be surprised, like babe????

× Kaminari finds him through social media and this baby cries in relief for a good half an hour

× both team up to find all the gang

× guess who talks praises about you all the time? mhm, this guy right here is proud to have you

× and Denki has to deal with it;

× anywho! want to break him for good? tell him you love him for the first time

× GETS. SO. EXCITED. AND. EMOTIONAL.

× but forgets how to speak

× finds his words to say it back after staring at you entranced, grinning like an idiot, taking you in his arms and giving you a bone crushing hug while shaking in place

× he's never felt this loved and adores every second of it

× you're like a drug and he's deep gone, man

× tells you he loves you every single day

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #noire writes #hybrid!au #hybrid!kirishima #kirishima headcanons #does anyone remember kirishima saying pompom? cuz it's been on my mind for hours and i love it

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him.

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks."

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him.

"How much money do you need?"

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa.

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?"

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup.

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?"

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about."

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink.

"You think you can do it?"

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips.

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal."

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering.

"It depends on the reason."

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said.

"The reason?"

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it."

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to."

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work.

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that."

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter.

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned.

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me?

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour?

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice.

"Jisung?"

"Noona, we need your help."

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin."

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark.

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard.

"Give me the phone."

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening."

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open.

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name.

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood.

"Oh my god."

"Please help us."

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it.

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again.

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features.

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please."

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders.

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me.

"Thank you."

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed.

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing.

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now.

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well.

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions.

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear.

I stared at him for a bit before looking away.

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much."

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk."

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time.

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?"

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze.

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped.

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock.

"A…"

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection."

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help.

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment.

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still.

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No.

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back."

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it."

Please don't leave me.

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips.

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him.

---

Chapter 4

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luminnara · 3 years

Text

The Dismemberment Song | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words: 3,791

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club.

PART ONE | PART TWO |

WARNINGS: graphic blood/gore/violence, reader may or may not torture and murder a guy, alcohol, all that good Gotham stuff, reader is kinda fucked up

Seriously, don’t read this if you don’t like blood

Based on The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid!

This is written as a kinda vague fem!reader, but if there’s interest I can always write alternate versions for different genders, more specific body/personality types, or whatever else might tickle your fancy! Just hit up my ask box!

Requests are open!! Pls, I really wanna write more Zsasz or Zsaszmask x reader, gimme ideas!

The Black Mask was a club that boasted only the best of the best. Top shelf booze, luxurious furnishings, and entertainers that Gotham’s other club owners wished they could get their hands on all came together to form the East End’s trendiest spot. You were lucky enough to be one of those very entertainers, and you had been performing onstage at Roman’s club ever since one of his goons saw you dancing at another spot across town. Roman Sionis had bought you easily, promising a good nightly wage and all the free drinks you could stomach, and a few years later, you were still enjoying the nice gig at the Black Mask.

Most nights were the same; you showed up around seven, hung around in the dressing room with the others while you all got ready, and enjoyed a drink or two before your first number. You were always in the chorus, not that you really minded--Roman paid you more than enough to keep you happy, even though you knew the stars got more. Girls who did solo numbers, especially if they could sing, those were Mr. Sionis’s favorites. You never really expected to achieve that kind of status, not when people like Dinah Lance were around and holding his attention, so when Roman pulled you aside one night to tell you that he wanted to give you the chance to do your own routine, you nearly dropped your drink.

“Full creative control,” he said, a hand resting at the small of your back as you gaped at him.

“I--what?” you managed to choke out. “I-I mean, thank you, Mr. Sionis, really--”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Call me Roman.”

“Thank you, Roman,” you smiled, swallowing down your fear. “I won’t disappoint you, I swear.”

“I know you won’t, doll.” he motioned for someone to bring him a drink. “Full creative control, like I said. I want to see what’s swirling around in that pretty mind of yours. Put some heart into it for me, k doll?”

You nodded. “You got it, boss.”

He grinned, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss against your temple like he did with all the girls he liked. “Looking forward to it, beautiful.”

He let you go, turning to leave, and Zsasz slunk after him, but not before casting you an almost annoyed look.

“Don’t disappoint,” he teased, whistling low before he followed his boss.

You gulped. You were sure he wouldn’t mind peeling your face off, but you rather preferred staying alive.

“I won’t!” you called after him bravely.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes practically boring into you as if were sizing you up. He thought you were just some prissy little girl, didn’t he? Just like Roman, just like everybody else. But you would show them. They wanted to see what kind of shit really ate at your brain? Oh, you’d give them a nice little glimpse.

And so, only a couple shorts weeks later, here you were, getting ready in the dressing room like usual, only you were far more nervous than you had been for any other shift. You had busted your ass getting everything ready, even taking a few nights off to work twice as hard on what you hoped would be a good debut. You had given the band their sheet music, you had learned your lyrics inside and out (because you were absolutely determined to go that extra mile for Roman Sionis and show him that not only could you prance around onstage, but you could sing, too), and you had spent hours upon hours hand-decorating an old corset and lingerie set you had sitting around. Roman wanted this to come from the heart, he wanted a passion project, and you were gonna give it to him.

You just had to pray that he was in the right mood to enjoy it.

“Think you’re good to go, my love,” the house mom said as she finished with your hair.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. So far, so good...your hair was in big barrel curls, still warm to the touch as your house mom gave it a couple more passes with the hairspray for good measure.

“You sure I don’t need--”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” she interrupted, retreating to her usual chair.

You kept staring at your reflection. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean...”

She laughed loudly. “Hon, this is Gotham. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you weren’t so sure. “But...”

“But nothing. Now go on, go show Roman why he stays in business.”

You stood on shaky legs, nodding to her as you made your way towards the door. “R-right.”

“Break a leg,” she called after you.

All you could do was nod. You knew what you were doing. You had practiced for hours every day to get ready for this. With a deep breath, you made your way down the hall leading to stage, shaking your hands out as you stood in the wings. You could do this. You were ready.

As soon as your stage name was announced, you stepped out, ruby encrusted heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. The lights were harsh, the crowd quiet as you came out to face them. The stage was set for you, a few props already waiting for you as you stood there, ready for the music to start.

Then, the band began playing, and you sprang into action.

“Hold still, my sweet. I’m tryin to measure the space between your molar and your jaw...” You sang, lunging forward to grab the medical-grade calipers sitting in a metal bucket for you. You trailed them down over your victim’s jaw, smiling as you did so. “...This caliper, no cause for fear. No it...it doesn’t hurt, it only helps me measure how much skin you have...”

Across the club, Zsasz looked up. He was standing near Roman, his boss sitting in a booth while he chatted with some business associates. He was far more interested in you than their conversation, his dark eyes tracking you as you moved across the stage. He was absolutely enthralled by your outfit, your tightly-laced corset covered in blood red rhinestones that glimmered under the stage lights, your matching bra and thong shining just as brightly. You looked like you were covered in blood, the gems catching his eye in a way he hadn’t expected.

“--and the topmost layer of fat, but I won’t make an incision till you’re nice and numb...” There was an operating table on the stage, where one of Roman’s lowest-ranking goons was tied down. If Zsasz remembered correctly, this guy had fucked up pretty monumentally recently, so seeing him strapped down and struggling brought a grin to his face.

You ran over to the man, the crowd laughing as you leaned across him. “...Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun, please don’t doubt my decision...”

The scene you had set was both comedic and sexual. In all honesty, Zsasz hadn’t expected you to do anything like this; you were a chorus girl, someone he had thought would go for something overdone and classic. Maybe some old school stupid, annoying, Singin In The Rain type shit, yet there you were, dressed in an outfit that was obviously meant to emulate dripping blood while you flitted around a man on a gurney.

Zsasz couldn’t look away.

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee!” you squealed, teasingly pressing your sawblade to the goon’s torso. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

You grabbed the goon as he struggled against his restraints, holding him down. Zsasz was sure the man was in on your little number, and he thought it was cute; you were pretending to be some sort of killer, maybe trying to appeal to Roman’s face peely urges. Maybe you were trying to make the boss happy by scaring his lackey like this.

“So don’t you squirm, don't you fret, I'm not gonna hurt you...yet.” You grinned, leaning down before you shoved the man’s face to the side, letting him go as you ran back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of blood lettin’, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading...”

You pranced back to the gurney, moving with that little extra theatrical oomph that made everyone think you were just playing. You smiled as they clapped and laughed loudly. They would figure it out soon enough.

“Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me...” you cooed, discarding the calipers in favor of a scalpel. You traced it down the goon’s bare chest, a little line of blood following the blade as it pierced his flesh.

He let out a scream, just as you hoped he would, and you gave his little table a shove, sending it wheeling a short distance away.

“Now don’t you cry,” You sang, “And don’t call Miriam, she’s my alibi...oh let me check your toes out!” You picked up a set of pliers, taking hold of his big toe. “Aren’t your toenails cute?” you grabbed one and pulled, the goon screaming as you removed the nail, leaving a bloody pulp behind. “...and red is such a lovely color on you!” you leaned down in his face, grabbing the opposite foot’s big toenail and yanking. “...But you won’t be needing those!”

Roman began clapping, giving a loud “Whoo!” as he watched you. He had no idea that when you had asked him for the name of his least favorite henchman, this would be the reason. Now, watching the man suffer onstage in front of everyone while you were dancing around him in six inch heels and a scandalously skimpy outfit, Sionis was more than entertained. He was impressed, absolutely astounding by the cruelty his little burlesque dancer held inside of her. He couldn’t have hoped for more.

“When you’ve got no knees!” you sang, dropping your weapons in favorite of a crowbar. “...Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries....”

You brought your weapon down on each of the man’s legs, somehow still managing to poise yourself perfectly as you did so. You gave him a few good whacks, then dropped the bar, leaning down to pick a knife up out of the bucket and run it over his hands teasingly.

“...so hold still while I remove them!” you trilled.

The man tried to sit up, struggling against his restraints, but you shoved him back down with a sweet smile.

“...Oh, and don’t fight back,” you sang, hopping up to sit next to him. “I think you’ll find you’re missing the point, with that.”

Meanwhile, Victor Zsasz was grinning, showing off his gold teeth while he watched you. He kept a close eye on your hips as they swayed, his trained eyes following your ass as it moved across the stage. Were you really carving a man up right then and there? He wanted it to be true. He wanted to smell the overwhelming tang of blood as you plunged a knife into your victim. But he was too far away, and so he had to settle for watching instead.

Your victim tried to scream, and you shoved his head to the side playfully.

“That’s enough outta you!” you sang, holding his jaw tightly.

As you repeated your chorus, your knife returned to the man’s flesh and he grunted in pain, pleading to an audience that didn’t care about him. The Black Mask was a fucked up place for fucked up people, no matter how trendy it was, and nobody in the audience was going to protest when someone was torn apart onstage. Besides, Roman Sionis was far too powerful for the GCPD to go after, and as you heard him laughing loudly in the audience, you had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to send anyone after you for carving somebody up in a way that only you could.

You kept going, peeling your underbust corset off with the same grace and dexterity that Zsasz peeled faces with. As you stood in only your bra, thong, garters and stockings, you felt exhilarated, powerful, as if you had been born to cur people up in front of an audience.

It’s not like this was your first time chopping a body up, anyways; there was a reason you had to move to Gotham and get a new gig, after all.

Zsasz watched you. In fact, his eyes were glued to you, even when Roman walked away to chat with a few mob bosses in a nearby booth. Were you seriously killing this man right in front of everyone? Victor didn’t necessarily care for all the theatrics, but he could appreciate how seriously you took you took your craft, and he had to admit, he was surprised that this was what you had come up with when Roman told you to give him something good.

“‘Cause I’m all out of hurt, you’ve used up all I’ve got,” you taunted, sneering down at your victim as you brought your saw down on his leg. “So I’m chopping you up and still coming up squat! If I want it to bleed, I’ll just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw and saw...”

The blade cut back and forth, and Zsasz’s eyes followed it. Blood was spurting up, drenching your arms as if you were wearing red opera gloves.

“And saw, and saw, and saw, and saw....”

“Zsasz, can you believe this?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“No, boss,” Zsasz said with a little grin, shaking his head.

“She’s good. We may have to give her a new job...”

You paused, giving your victim a break as you tossed the saw back into the bucket, drops of blood spattering across the stage as you pulled out a large butcher knife. Before it could touch Roman’s henchman, you used it to flick open the clasp on your bra, tossing the thin little piece of lingerie out into the crowd. You didn’t really care where it went; you were too busy enjoying yourself.

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee,” you purred, trailing the blade down the side of the man’s face. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

“So don’t you squirm, don’t you fret, I’m not gonna hurt you, oh no, no, no, not...yet.” you plunged your blade into his chest, between two of his ribs, not close enough to knick his heart but definitely deep enough to cause him immense pain despite all the adrenaline that was sure to be running through his system now.

You pulled the knife back out, blood dripping off the metal blade as you held it tightly and pranced back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of bloodletting, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading but there’s one thing you’re forgetting...”

Turning back to him, you brought the blade to his throat, and in the crowd, Zsasz’s eyes lit up. He was delighted. He was enthralled. His pants were getting a little tight, but whatever. The rest of the audience was gazing up at you with wonder, disgust, amusement...but Zsasz was absolutely admiring the way you so confidently played with your victim. The theatrics were starting to grow on him, he decided, and he wanted nothing more than to go right up there and lick all that blood off your face.

“There’s nothing like the thrill of a shredding,” you sang, almost snarling, “but this is no orthodox beheading...”

You destroyed the man on the gurney, carving through him, drenching yourself in blood in an almost comical way.

“Cutting you up,” you sang as you made an absolute mess. “Cutting you up...”

“Cutting you up is gonna be....” you finally stepped back, catching your breath as the song slowed. “...so refreshing for me.”

As your routine finished, you took a little bow, still holding the knife as you crossed your ankles and bent at the waist in a delightfully fancy gesture. The man on the gurney was very much dead, blood dripping down onto the stage, and the audience was still eating up every second of it. You could hear Roman cheering, and as you spotted him standing there amidst the crowd with Zsasz at his side, you blew them both a little kiss.

“How about that?” you heard Roman’s voice boom above the clapping as you strode offstage. “I would call for an encore, but unfortunately, I think we’d need a new victim....”

Your head was still abuzz with the rush of killing, and you walked back to the dressing room in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Dinah Lance wrinkling her nose as you passed her, but you didn’t pay her any mind. Absolutely nothing could kill your good mood now.

“Well?” the house mom asked as you made your way to your mirror. “Sounds like it went well, judging by those cheers...”

You smiled and hummed to yourself, nodding as you reached for something to clean your face with. You were going to need an entire shower to get all this blood off yourself.

“Told you.” the house mom snorted a laugh.

“He loved it,” you grinned.

She shook her head in amusement. “You are one fucked up girl, I’ll tell you that much.”

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you joked, raising a towel to start working at wiping your face.

“Oh, pussycat?” a singsong voice made you freeze.

You could see Zsasz in the mirror.

He was leaning in the doorway, smirking as he watched you. “Boss wants to talk.”

You paled. Had you fucked up after all? Did Roman get his shits and giggles and now planned on having Zsasz peel your face off? Sionis was infamous for his fickle moods. You’d watched him have plenty of people dragged off into back rooms just for speaking at the wrong time, and you had just done way worse than interrupt him.

You gawked at Zsasz, still staring at his reflection. What were you supposed to do? Run? He was blocking the only door, and there was no way you’d be able to get past him. You had no choice but to follow him to Roman.

“O-Okay,” you managed to stammer out, finally turning towards him. “Lead the way.”

“Might want this.” he held up the bra you had tossed, twirling the strap around his finger while he gave you a smile that showed off his gold teeth.

“Give me that!” you snapped, rushing towards him.

“Ah.” he held it above his head, leering down at you. “Think I like this view more...”

“Zsasz!” you protested, scrambling against his chest and practically trying to claw your way up him to get your lingerie.

He froze. He finally smelled the metallic tang of all that blood covering you, and coupled with the feeling of your tits against his chest...oh, he was so fucked.

When he dropped the bra, you grabbed it from him, tossing it back to your mirror and moving to pick up a silky red robe off a nearby hook. You shrugged it on, tying it shut while Zsasz cleared his throat and offered you his arm.

“Such a gentleman,” you sneered, taking it anyways.

“When I want to be.” his voice was low and rough, as if his vocal chords were scraping against each other with every syllable.

You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded, as he led you out into the club once more. The band was playing as a few people cleaned up the carnage you had left behind, the bar’s patrons all chatting and drinking again. It was as if nothing had even happened and they hadn’t just watched a man be torn apart onstage a few minutes prior.

Zsasz took you to Roman, the crowd parting before the two of you easily. Sionis was sitting in his favorite booth, sipping his drink and laughing, still seeming to be in a very good mood.

“Ah, there she is!” He said when he saw you, standing up and spreading his arms.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked nervously as Zsasz let you go.

“Yes, yes, I had Mr. Zsasz grab you so that I could congratulate you on a thrilling performance.”

You stared at him. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? I loved it, darling! A bit messy for my tastes, but a lovely show, truly, though I suspect our dear Mr. Zsasz here wishes he could have been the one to take care of your victim. Isn’t that right, Zsasz?”

You glanced up at Zsasz. He grunted, not necessarily in agreement. He didn’t hate watching your performance by any means, and as much as he enjoyed helping little birds fly away from the world, he rather enjoyed watching you do it, too.

“I’m glad, Mr. Sionis,” you said.

“I told you, call me Roman.” he took a sip of his drink. “You know, normally, I don’t enjoy it when someone kills the people that belong to me, but I must admit, you certainly have a way with a knife.”

“I would have asked your permission, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” you gulped.

“And what a lovely surprise it was!” Roman laughed loudly. “You’re very talented...in fact, how’d you like a promotion? Yes? Perfect, perfect! No, no, don’t shake my hand, you’re...well, you’re covered in blood. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.” He snapped his fingers. “Mr. Zsasz, take her up to the penthouse so she can clean up, I don’t want all this blood getting on the new carpeting in here.”

“Oh, Mr. Sio--Roman,” you cleared your throat, “I can use the shower in the dressing room, really, it’s no trouble--”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” he waved you away. “You’re part of the team now, aren’t you? Besides, a job well done deserves some sort of reward. Zsasz will show you upstairs. Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless.”

As Zsasz put a hand on your lower back, you had your doubts. Harmless wasn’t really a word you would choose to describe Roman’s right hand man.

“Come on, princess.” Zsasz purred, guiding you through the crowd before you had much of a chance to protest.

He took you to the elevator in the corner, the bouncer standing guard in front of it stepping aside with a nod. The man hit the up button, and soon, you were pressed up against Zsasz in the small space, on your way up to Roman’s spacious penthouse.

#victor zsasz x reader #zsasz x reader #victor zsasz #bop zsasz #birds of prey zsasz #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey #dceu #dceu imagine #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #gotham #chris messina imagine

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

And one more bit from the “Kings of the Sky” AU albeit several installments in, because I just......don’t know when or why I stumbled into an obsession with the dynamics between Dick and Jason and Cass as the eldest three Wayne siblings, but its there, its real, and its happening. I’ve stopped fighting it. I just....enjoy writing those three being dumb siblings who are dumb like so, so much.

Anyway, in this AU series, Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia and die, but rather eventually joins Dick at Titans Tower more regularly and is Flamebird. Both are closer with Bruce here than in canon because Dick helped Bruce and Jason get through the Garzonas stuff and Jason helped kick Bruce in the direction of Dick and adoption papers right after the Brother Blood storyline. Then Cass is actually the third to join the family, by way of Babs, and she’s Batgirl and then Black Bat, but there’s a period of time when its just Dick, Jason and Cass as the Wayne kids.

(PS - this is the same series as where Jason ends up with his own age group of Titans, and accidentally falls into a love quadrangle of doom that is absolutely NOT a polycule dammit, with Tom Bronson (Tomcat), Ray Terrill (The Ray) and Todd Rice (Obsidian). Which amuses his brother and sister to no end).

Tim and Duke are both next, but sorta at the same time? Like Tim’s story takes a sharp turn when Robin II never dies and obviously is Flamebird now like Robin I is Nightwing, and Tim winds up in foster care after his parents die differently than in canon. Duke is also in foster care at this time, though a different placement, and while no Robin has died here, its been awhile since there’s been one in Gotham, and to kids who grew up with the idea of there always being a Robin, that feels weird and wrong ultimately.

So Tim and Duke both hit on the idea of being Robin like, at around the same time and totally disconnected from one another, and that leads to them both joining the Batfam around the same time, and co-sharing Robin until Damian arrives much later and they both move on to new identities. But there’s no real confusion between Robins because Duke is the daytime Robin with more yellow coloring in his costume and Tim is the nighttime Robin with more red, and people say Red or Yellow if they ever need to differentiate which Robin they’re talking about. Anyway.

************

So [Tim and Duke] run into trouble eventually and then when running from trouble they run into each other and they’re like….huh. Awkward. And then they decide well, might as well both run from trouble in the same direction, I guess. So they do.

“Did you have a plan for dealing with these guys?” Tim yelled at Duke. The other boy looked back over his shoulder briefly and gave what would probably have been a half-shrug if he didn’t awkwardly try to barrel-roll over a car two seconds later.

“Umm, sorta?”

“How sorta are we talking about? Maybe the two of us together could fill in the gaps in the plan and come up with one full plan?”

“Uh yeah, no, its not that kinda sorta. I meant sorta in the sense that I thought I had a plan but it didn’t work and that’s why these guys are after me. Sooooo…”

“Not helpful, basically.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. And hey, I don’t hear you offering up a plan! Did you even have one at all?”

“Uh….I mean I kinda didn’t think I was going to need one because I figured some kid running around in a mask making a nuisance of himself was the sorta thing that was bound to attract Batman. And so I was just pretty much running around until that happened, and then I’d make a case for how I obviously need training and Gotham needs Robin and if its not me its likely to be someone else trying eventually anyway so why not be me?”

Duke paused just long enough to squint at him. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Tim rolled his eyes. The effort didn’t pair well with his huffing and over-all exertions from running for his life and all that, but necessity demanded. “Yeah I know, that’s why I never said it was a plan! It was mostly….more…idea-ish.”

“I’m just saying, I thought I was doing this wrong, but at least I had a plan! I mean yeah, it might have ended up with me accidentally busting in on what I thought was a bunch of Riddler’s henchmen setting up some kind of clue thing, only it was actually a bunch of Intergang type guys with alien space guns or some shit all dressed up as Riddler henchmen for some reason? I dunno what they were trying to do honestly, but so yeah I might have ended up running away on foot from like twenty of them and some kind of hovercycle -”

“I’m going to cut you off there and say wherever this is going its probably not the superior vantage point I think you think you have.”

Meanwhile, Batman was not going to be coming because he’s off on a JLA mission. However, in his absence Dick and Jason are in town filling in, and they finished taking out the bad guys several blocks back and caught up to whomever was running from them, figured out the situation and are currently sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching them realize they’re totally lost and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mostly because Dick and Jason are incredibly amused listening to their back and forth and also just…this whole situation.

Dick justifies not piping up to let them know they’re safe now by saying this is good intel gathering so we can offer Bruce our assessment as to whether they’re gonna try and keep doing this whether we train them or not, and also how they handle this whole being lost situation. Not knowing they don’t have to run anymore isn’t going to hurt them and really, this is a good field exercise almost.

Jason justifies not piping up by saying this is fucking hilarious and I will hurt you if you end this any sooner than we have to, I deserve this, I had a rough week.

Which is right around the time that Cass pipes up from where she’s been lurking unnoticed behind them this whole time: “Oh no. Was it Tom? Or Ray? Or was it Todd?”

And she does it right in Jason’s ear so he kinda aborted-shrieks and almost falls off the roof except Cass is ready for that and grabs his arm to steady him.

“I hate when you do that!” Jason growls in an attempt to cover up how badly she got him and also because he hates when she does it which is why she does it a lot. Again, they don’t hate each other at all, but they do seem to act like it a lot, and neither of them is entirely sure why. They kinda just started doing it and have each been trying to get the other back ever since and ended up locked in an unending spiral of gotcha-gotchaback, except, y’know, Batfam style.

Dick occasionally picks sides just to muddy the waters. And then he randomly switches sides without warning, so neither of them ever wants to risk getting too peeved at him even when he’s helping the other, because that might push him fully over to the other side and leave them permanently outnumbered, so they’re kinda stuck, which is exactly as he likes it, lol.

“Why are you Satan,” Jason hisses dramatically as he gets up and stomps over to the other side of the roof to sulk, lest she almost knock him off again. Its not the almost falling part that bothers him, its that she’s the one that snatches him to safety each time. She’s like a freaking cat toying with a - yeah not going there, just blaming Selina. Knew them hanging out was going to be bad news for me somehow, he gripes.

Cass just shrugs and smoothly sits down cross-legged right where she is, grinning Cheshire-cat style at him from there. “Childhood trauma,” is her answer.

“Great, and now you’re stealing my comeback on top of it?! Is nothing sacred to you?”

She offers another shrug. He would like to return those for store credit please. Maybe get something useful instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Babs is still helping me explore my options. We’re going alphabetically and we’re only on the E-religions.”

“God, you’re the worst. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“You already used that same line last week when you came out of your room still half-asleep and she was just sitting directly across from your door waiting and staring unblinking and you yelped and dropped your laptop on your toe, and then cursed so loud that B came running around the hall thinking we were being invaded,” Dick reported idly, still perched in the same position he’d been in all along and watching the boys below them. “Just in case you thought no one noticed when you recycle.”

“I noticed too,” Cass added solemnly.

“I have no siblings,” Jason intoned. He threw up his hands dramatically and then loudly jumped down to the street below with a little help from the fire escape. It drew both Duke and Tim’s attention and they startled before realizing it was Flamebird. And that he’d landed on the street and was stalking past them while barely acknowledging them. And that that was Nightwing standing on the roof now with his hands on his hips yelling after him.

“Oh, reeeeeeal subtle. You’re not having fun anymore so you gotta make sure nobody else does either. Wow, the Brat-like behavior, just jumped out of the shadows with that one!”

And that was Flamebird not even turning around and just yelling back. “I HAVE NO SIBLINGS!”

And also they were both pretty sure that was Batgirl crouched on the roof next to Nightwing now, and she was…..sticking her tongue out at Flamebird’s back? No, Batgirl very much definitely was sticking out her tongue, that wasn’t in doubt, it was more just….very unexpected to see.

What was happening right now?

********

Eventually Tim and Duke have inevitably worn down [Bruce’s] resistance to training them by insisting they’re gonna keep doing this and if its not them its gonna be someone sooner or later anyway. Because, as they put it, you guys may not know this but Gotham’s gotten used to Robins by now and it freaks people out not to see one and Robin’s as important as Batman really and there needs to be a Robin and its not just us that will think that, like look at the fact that already two of us had the exact same idea, huh? And also, we’re gonna keep doing it anyway, sooooo….there’s that.

And then Cass vouches that they’re both 100% serious about that.

And then Dick vouches that as a former determined daredevil kid that was absolutely going to keep doing the same thing no matter whether you’d helped me or not, B, I also am of the assessment that these two mean it all the way.

And not to be left out and just to have something to contribute but also grumpy because his brother and sister are picking on him and he’s eighteen going on ten, Jason throws in: “And my assessment is that they both definitely seem dumb enough to keep doing this without help anyway and they definitely need help or they definitely will die, I’d give it a month, month and a half tops.”

And then Bruce dryly thanks his children for their contributions, their keen insights in this matter have been absolutely invaluable, he has no idea how he would make a decision here without it.

“Oooh, a rare sighting of Bat-snark in the wild. Someone call Nat-Geo quick, maybe he’ll do it again,” Dick says.

Bruce sighs. Duke and Tim look like they’re trying to decide if they’re allowed to be amused or if that’s also part of some weird Bat-test that they’re probably taking without even knowing it.

So Tim and Duke move in, start training together, and then also get sent to school together and it takes a month or so of settling in before they decide whether or not they actually are happy about this. There’s a period of deciding they’re supposed to be bitter rivals who snipe at each other back and forth across the dining table at every available opportunity, but that changes the first night Dick and Jason come back from the Tower since Tim and Duke have moved in and where Cass is also home instead of at the Clocktower with Babs.

Since all three of the older Batkids, upon seeing Tim and Duke squabble at dinner, decide to obnoxiously coo about how adorable it is watching the kids play. Which pretty instantly cements Duke and Tim as realizing their best chance of surviving the sudden acquisition of three older superhero ninja foster siblings who all can be as obnoxious as they are dangerous but also as much as they are - Duke and Tim are convinced - all quite insane.

A belief further cemented the next morning, with all three of them having spent the night at the Manor as well. Treating Duke and Tim to their first Saturday morning episode of the Cass and Jason show.

In this episode, Jason emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas still but warily peeking his head out first to look both ways down the hall before deciding it was clear…..and then makes it just almost to the end of the hallway leading to the stairs, when Cass drops down from where she’d been waiting perched above the other side of the door, in such a way as to suddenly fill the doorway just in front of him, hanging upside down suspending herself just with her feet wedged above the doorway, all while keeping her hands crossed her chest, a dead-eyed expression on her face, and with her tongue hanging out like she’s some kind of vampire hanging upside down in mid-slumber.

Jason shrieked and stumbled back a foot before catching himself and shoving two fingers in a cross shape in her direction.

“Demon! DEMON! Goddammit, I abjure thee, that’s supposed to fucking do something about having a demon sister, now what the fuck does it take to banish you!?”

“Can’t be banished,” Cass informed him, still upside down. “Can be bought though.”

Jason halted. “What?”

“I’m really surprised you never figured it out,” Dick said from his room further down the hallway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms casually crossed.

“Why did you think she never goes after me?”

Jason swiveled back and forth between his siblings suspiciously, trying to scry both their inscrutable (and in Cass’ case, still upside down) faces for signs they were telling the truth. “You’re telling me that Little Miss Monstrous has been a pain in my ass from day one and the reason she’s never so much as eked a single boo in your direction is you’ve been bribing her all this time?”

Dick shrugged. “Its all about getting in on the ground floor.”

Jason squinted, still unconvinced. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re just fucking with me. Like if this is for real, what have you been buying her off with?”

Dick smiled beatifically. “Cuddles and hugs.”

“NO! NO! Bullshit! I am NOT falling for this crap again, you are not gonna get me this way this time. I call BS, fuck you, nuh uh, you’re lying out your ass and your ass-face both.”

“Wait, what is this ‘this’ that I did before? What ever are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Is this about the Care Bear you had when you were fifteen?”

“Shut upppppppppppppppp, I didn’t have a Care Bear then, you’re such a - “

“Oh, I dunno, I’m preeeeetty sure there’s some holiday photos from that year that would say otherwise, pretty definitively in the form of you and your Care Bear….”

“That I only had because you literally just gave it to me as a present solely so that you could claim that I had a Care Bear when I was fifteen, you douchebag!”

“Just because I gave you the Care Bear didn’t mean you had to keep the Care Bear and hold the Care Bear and love the Care Bear, Jay. You chose to do all that.”

“I only kept the damn thing because you’re an asshole who lied about it being a family heirloom so I felt like I had to or I’d be a total jerk. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“I didn’t lie! It is a treasured family heirloom! Its the first Care Bear I gave to my little brother to teach him the important and valuable lesson that Care Bears - say it with me now - “

“Finish that sentence and they will never find your body.”

“CARE!” Cass shrieked from behind him before jumping on Jason’s back and bearing him down to the floor in an undignified tangle as she splayed atop him like a starfish and he stared up at the ceiling in a kind of strangled frozen fury, like there was so much emotion he wanted to process he’d overheated and now was stuck like that until he cooled down.

That was when Dick leaned over him and solemnly added one final thought, as though it was a crucial addition of the gravest importance:: “A lot.”

Jason’s eye twitched.

Dick’s eyes went wide in response. “Uh oh. He went to the Danger Zone. Run Cass. We’ve unleashed the dogs of war!”

Cass was off and on her feet in a second, taking off down the hall like a rocket. “Not the dogs of war!” She yelled.

Dick was only seconds behind her when behind him, Jason rose like an eruption, growling wordlessly and sparks practically flashing from his suddenly flinty eyes. He charged after them like an enraged bull.

“Kenny Loggins wouldn’t want this!” Dick yelled over his shoulder as he rounded the doorway and vanished. Jason rounded it in hot pursuit.

“Poison Ivy won’t even be able to make compost from what’s left of you when I’m through!”

The yelling and running vanished into the distance. Duke and Tim finally looked at each other blankly.

“What?” Tim asked. Duke shrugged helplessly.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. Bruce stuck his head out. “Is it safe?”

Tim just stared at him.

“What?” Duke asked.

**************

LOL mostly I just want to get to the tail end of the series, when Dick and Jason go undercover as supervillains in the Society of well, Supervillains....Dick as War Shrike and Jason as Gray Jay. (A kind of bird usually known for or referenced as being thieving and unpredictable and unexpectedly dangerous despite its size. Jason never went into the Lazarus Pit here and so isn’t as huge as he is in canon, he’s on the smaller side due to his early life’s malnutrition. Living with Bruce helped him catch up enough that he’s not TINY tiny, but he’s still smaller enough that this particular mantle fits him a little better than it would his massive canon depiction).

Cass also partakes in the undercover storyline, just showing up uninvited in a persona she’s crafted for the mission and calls Black Swan. And War Shrike and Gray Jay are both so startled and obviously a little freaked by her unexpected arrival, that combined with her being ticked at her brothers for leaving her behind, RUDE, and them sufficiently cowed and guilted by her wrath, that it all adds up to the other villains as being clear evidence that she is the boss and they are her advance minions.

Which mollifies and satisfies Cass immensely, and leaves Jason grumpy that their mission was hijacked and also his sister is The Worst, and leaves Dick temporarily disgruntled because This Whole Thing Was His Idea DAMMIT but then five seconds later finding it hilarious because Dick is a chaos connoisseur and he has an appreciation for whimsy and the unexpected.

“I can’t believe you not only gate-crashed our extremely sensitive and delicate undercover operation, but you completely hijacked it as well! This is so typical,” Jason grouched.

Cass simply swept ahead of him and strode down the hallway with lethal grace. “Silence minion.”

Jason spluttered behind her and she grinned to herself. He really made it too easy sometimes.

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Crush

Kurt Wagner x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1734 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Jubilee and Scott set up the reader and Kurt.

——————————————————————————————————

Kurt had a crush.

He tried his hardest to keep it to himself, making sure that no one noticed, but unfortunately for him, Kurt just wasn’t that subtle.

As soon as Jubilee took notice of the way Kurt was eyeing you in that Journeys, she knew that he had a huge crush and she also knew that something had to be done about it.

Kurt was shy, and would never do anything about his feelings for you if it was up to him.

Every one of his friends knew that.

That was part of the reason he was here, in the mall again. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t really of his own fruition.

The four of them; Scott, Jubilee, Jean, and Kurt, had been at the mall a few days ago, mostly out of boredom. There was little to do around here other than mindless shopping or sneaking out to see shows at the park.

There wasn’t much for a bunch of mutant teens to do other than that. However, they had more of a reason to be here today than stifling their unending boredom.

They wanted to introduce you to Kurt, at least before the end of the day.

It wasn’t going to be an easy feat, as most of it had to be done behind their blue friends back, who would surely panic if he found out. Luckily, he showed no sign of concern quite yet.

Instead, he followed behind both Scott and Jubilee who led the pack as usual, heading toward the food court.

That was always their first stop, mostly because Jean refused to listen to Scott complaining about his empty stomach for the next few hours as Jubilee searched for some new knee socks.

It was the one condition she’d put in place for tagging along to these sorts of things. That, and the Professor demanded that she go with them to get away from her studies for a few hours.

If he didn’t, she would have stayed within the walls of the Academy. It was safer there. She couldn’t hurt anyone, and while she would never admit it, by this point, Jean was starting to look forward to spending time with her friends at the mall.

Not that she would have advised something like this if they had asked her first. As someone who didn’t like to be caught off guard, she never would have led Kurt into a trap like they were.

Jubilee and Scott both knew that, of course, but that was why they hadn’t asked her. It would be much better to just let her watch from afar.

Besides, both young mutants had implicit faith in the fact that this whole thing was going to be nothing but good.

They had seen the way Kurt watched you, doing his best to keep it from being obvious, and he didn’t know it, but you did the same. Every six or seven minutes, you would make your rounds asking the group of them if they needed anything.

Maybe it could be explained as you just doing your job but Scott didn’t think so. You always addressed your words at Kurt more than anyone else. Scott was no stranger to a girl with a crush, and he’d know that look anywhere. Frankly, he’d bet anything on the fact that you were into his shy little buddy, all he had to do was prove it.

...And prove it, he would.

“You know guys, I’m not really hungry. Maybe we can skip the food court for a while” Scott started, doing his best to be inconspicuous, though he wasn’t that good of an actor.

He and Jubilee had practiced this a few times last night, going through how they were going to get Kurt a date, and she was quick to pick up the slack.

So quick, in fact, that neither Jean nor Kurt took much notice to how strange they were being.

“That’s okay. I have to get a new set of laces for my boots though, so we better hit the journeys while we’re right here” she interjected, not even batting an eye.

It was a good lie.

Jubilee had several pairs of sneakers and boots that she loved to customize with bright colored laces and charms. As far as excuses went, it couldn’t have been better.

No one spoke for a moment or more as the gaggle of them made their way toward where the Journeys was located. It wasn’t something they even had to think about.

In fact, it was almost like their feet were moving on their own, muscle memory taking over to get them where they wanted to go. Kurt got much more quiet and reserved as they neared that place he knew so well. He thought about it a lot, or at least, he thought about you a lot.

The very idea of you busting around the place, buzzing around like a busy bee made his head spin. You were just trying to help as many people as possible, and were in no means frightening, but he couldn’t make himself speak to you.

It just seemed like something he couldn’t do.

Almost as if the action itself was some sort of sacreligious thing he couldn’t be allowed to do.

Still, as nervous as he was, Kurt couldn’t help but smile when he entered the store. It was sort of dingy, on purpose, and was heaven for teens like Jubilee and Peter.

Kurt himself had just never gotten that into those sorts of things. The sneakers that dressed his feet were the same that he wore every day, that he only replaced when he couldn’t wear them any longer.

“You guys can just wait out here if you want? I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes” Ju informed, eyeing the blue teenager out of the corner of her eye, practically watching him deflate.

He was relieved, of course, that he didn’t have to risk making a fool of himself but he had been looking forward to seeing you.

“Sounds good, we can just wait here” Jean stepped in now, taking a seat on one of the metal benches nearby, leaning up against a large green plant.

She wanted to go to the bookstore and anything else was a distraction from that. All she had to do was wait for everyone else to finish their errands before she could escape there.

“Is that okay Kurt? You didn’t need anything did you?” Scott questioned next, smirking at the taller male, who would have visibly blushed if he could have.

Every one of his friends was making it abundantly clear that they’d found him out, but still, he just shook his head. “No, that’s fine” he assured, his accent leaving his lips cautiously.

...And with that, Jubilee disappeared through the mouth of the store, a giddy skip in her step as she did.

This was what she’d been waiting for.

After all, she didn’t need any new laces after all.

Ju had ventured this way yesterday with Peter, striking up a conversation with you while the grey-haired teen searched for a new pair of white Doc Martens.

She learned about your schedule, and found out that you were just a really cool chick who happened to work in the mall. Then, toward the end of the conversation, she asked if you’d be interested in seeing a movie with her friend.

You were understandably apprehensive at first, but once she explained who it was, you agreed happily.

As it would turn out, Kurt wasn’t the only one with a crush.

You told Jubilee that you didn’t work today, assuming that would throw a wrench in her plans. However, you having the day off only worked in her favor.

That meant you would be able to spend all day with them, and more importantly, Kurt.

So, you agreed to meet in Journeys at this exact time with the prime objective of surprising the young male. Now, all that was left was to put it all into motion.

“Hey, you ready?” she grinned, approaching you with a wide smile on her face. She was beyond excited, and knowing what was coming only made her that much more excited.

All you did was nod, returning the side hug she gave you before following her outside the store, back to where she’d left all her friends waiting.

Scott smiled when he saw the two of you approaching, though Kurt didn’t even notice at first, his attention poised on the He-Man action figure Scott had bought him.

It was meant to be a joke at first, but Kurt actually really liked it. After all, he had only just started watching that show with Peter when it was on.

“Bad news. They didn’t have the laces I wanted, but I picked up something else instead” she started, reaching down to take your hand in her own, presenting you to the group of them in a near awkward way.

Had you not known about this beforehand, it would have been unbearable.

“Kurt, this is Y/N. I think you probably recognize her” Jubilee smiled, somehow even wider than before as she looked between the two of you, watching the magic happen.

She had always been obsessed with those rom-com movies she rented sometimes, and this was her chance to experience one in real life.

Of course she was excited.

“Hello Y/N” he spoke, taking a moment or two to collect himself before doing so. He just wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make you think he was completely out of his mind or something.

“Kurt, why don’t you take Y/N to go see a movie while we finish up here” Scott suggested, sending a wink in Jubilee’s direction as he handed over a few tickets he’d gotten before, to A Never Ending Story.

It wasn’t something he would have ever seen himself, but from the looks of it, it was probably something Kurt would find humor in and you’d already agreed to watch it.

By all accounts, it was perfect, and Kurt wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse so he only took the tickets from his friend and went off with you.

“Mission Accomplished” Ju grinned, high-fiving her best friend happily, and accomplished it was.

By the end of the movie, you and Kurt had another date in the wings.

#kurt wagner #xmen #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner x ps reader #kurt wagner x plus size reader #kurt wagner imagine #xmen x reader #xmen x ps reader #xmen x plus size reader #xmen imagine #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler x ps reader #nightcrawler x plus size reader #nightcrawler imagine

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

PART 3 OF ITS YOUR FAULT PLS !!!! I LOVE IT EKDBJSHD

Well since y’all asked so nicely-

——————

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 3) (final)

⚠️warnings - angst

Pronouns - male, he/him

part 1 can be found here!

part 2 can be found here!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s what Kuroo knew about (y/n), yet he still egged him on to play volleyball with him. He had a choice to say no, which was what younger him was hoping for, yet he still did it in hope of gaining his affection.

All his life he thought he was annoying. All his life he’d been in the mindset of how annoying he was, and how blissful it would’ve been for him to just disappear off the face of the earth.

So when (y/n) suddenly stopped showing up to practice, Kuroo didn’t expect himself to get worried.

He was starting to miss all the clingy touches, or the ‘good morning, Kuroo-kun!’ every single morning practice. He didn’t realize how quiet the walk was to his classes, or to and from home, when (y/n) wasn’t there to fill the noise on random things he found cool or how his day was. He didn’t know how expensive the drink (y/n) religiously bought him from the vending machine was, even though he bought him the drink with a smile plastered on his face like it was nothing.

“Oh, (y/n)? He quit the team.”

Kuroo dropped the volleyball he was holding. He’d gone up to coach nekomata to ask where (y/n) was, and why he wasn’t showing up to practice. But he was regretting asking in the first place. Nekomata gave him a sympathetic look.

Kuroo picked up his volleyball, gave him the best smile he could afford, and walked away. Why was he so devastated? Why did his heart feel like it sunk into his stomach? Why was his chest hurting like that? He should’ve been glad that (y/n) was finally gone.

So why does his heart hurt so much?

————

Kuroo figured he’d stop by his apartment to see what was going on. It’s been weeks, yet he couldn’t find him anywhere in his classrooms, and he nor Kenma could reach him on his phone.

When he walked up the stairs, looking for the ever familiar door to his apartment, he was nervous. For once in his life when going to talk to the boy, he was nervous. It wasn’t a good feeling, he never felt nervous to talk to him before.

When he noticed the door slightly ajar, he clutched the apology basket of sweets in his hand tighter. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to apologize for, though. Maybe for yelling at him, or maybe for something else.

“...hello? (Y-y/n)?” When he opened the door, he was met face to face with construction workers, and a blank apartment. Kuroos heart stopped beating. A man, who Kuroo believes was the apartment owner, looked at Kuroo, to his schools jacket, and down to his basket saying “I’m sorry (y/n) :(“

“Oh? Are you here for that (h/c)-haired kid?” Kuroo nodded vigorously.

“Sorry bud. He moved out a few days ago.” Kuroo couldn’t hide the devastated frown from tugging at his lips. He mumbled a small “sorry” and spedwalked out of the building.

He spammed (y/n’s) phone, probably texting more than he ever did his whole life combined, with “where are you’s” and “hey look I’m sorry, okay? Please answer me’s”

None of them were even read.

Kenma didn’t react well to knowing one of his best friends moved away so suddenly. Unlike Kuroo, (y/n) was good friends with him, practically attached to the hip. When Kuroo told him he couldn’t find (y/n) at his apartment, Kenma clutched his ds harder and glared at the screen like it was it’s fault for making him disappear.

But as much as Kenma blamed the ds, they both knew it was Kuroos fault.

———

Kuroo strived to be a better person. He came to terms with his feelings for (y/n), and how he could never repeat his mistake again.

He grew to love (y/n), and he messed it up so bad.

He’d be sure to never lead anyone on again, minus when he’d lead his team to victory as their new captain. He’d try and hold less grudges, tell someone when he doesn’t like them, as to let them down easy instead of blowing up in their face, and even bought his team snacks and filled up their water bottles during practice.

Kuroo walked around the unknown streets of miyagi, scanning his eyes for a mop of bleached hair. He knew Kenma got distracted on his phone, but this was excessive, even for him.

Eventually, his eyes landed on two bright figures. Kenmas usual bright blond hair, and a tuft of orange next to him.

“Kenma!”

Kenmas head whipped up, and he shut off his phone, but then a flash of (h/c) came into his peripherals. He looked a little further down and locked eyes with someone who made his throat close up.

(Y/n).

He looked older. Not in the way that he looks physically older, but he carried himself with a somewhat mature, grown stance that made Kuroo so a double take. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing a black team jacket instead of the red Nekoma jacket he used to wear. Shocked (e/c) colored eyes morphed into an expression of pure resentment, making Kuroos shocked happiness short lived. Kenma walked up next to him, about to ask what happened when Kuroo turned his head away, walking with his head down.

Kenma waved bye to Hinata, when his eyes landed on (y/n). He was talking to a silver headed guy, with a distasteful frown directed at Kuroo. He didn’t say anything though, just ducked his head and walked beside his captain.

———

(Y/n) kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as Nekoma and Karasuno stood in a line, facing eachother. Kenma was practically standing in front of him, shocked to the core, but also averting his gaze. Not just because (y/n), but Hinata next to the boy was staring at him with his mouth agape.

Eventually everyone filed into the gym, Hinata stopping Kenma to talk, while taketora eyed him menacingly. (Y/n) side-eyed the little interaction with an unwanted jealousy. He wanted to talk to Kenma, he WAS his childhood and best friend. But it soon dissipated when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

That jealousy turned into hatred.

“Can we talk, (y/n)?”

(Y/n) slapped Kuroos hand away and stepped past him, pushing him back slightly with his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right. It’s

(L/n).”

Kuroo watched as (y/n) stepped into the gym, his lips pressed into a fine line.

—————

(Y/n) sat on a bench in the corner with an obviously closed off aura, watching as people set up the net or the players from both schools talked to eachother. He walked as Kuroo shook hands with Daichi, not noticing the mop of bleached hair sit himself next to him. (Y/n) flinched when he felt something brush his shoulder.

He whipped his head around to find Kenma, sitting right next to him, but looking straight in front of him. He said nothing, and fiddled with his fingers. Guess he didn’t change, even after a new school year.

(Y/n) relaxed a bit and went back to stalking his team and old teammates with a somewhat less intimidating aura. They sat in heavy silence for what seemed like forever, until (y/n) coughed into his Karasuno jacket.

“S-so how you been Ke-“

“So you’re just not gonna tell me why you left?”

Kenma was looking straight at (y/n), with his normal, neutral gaze. It looked like his normal face, but (y/n) knew how hurt he was. He understood, though. He would be hurt too if his best friend moved without saying goodbye.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

More silence consumed them. Sounds of sneakers squeaking and the rustle of the net being hung up seemed to vanish under the cloud of quiet sheltering them. Kenma stood up.

“I’m not mad. But I know why you left. And I’m not saying it’s a stupid reason, but you should talk to him.”

Kenma walked away without another word, leaving (y/n) to trail his eyes over to his old teammate, now captain. The frown that summoned up on his face came naturally, despite taking Kenmas words to heart.

He also stood up, brushing himself off and turning his cheery attitude back on. Why play a game with a frown when you’re about to destroy your old team?

—————

(Y/n) wasn’t mad he lost. He was actually quite satisfied with ticking off some of his old teammates by receiving spikes or feints no one saw coming. He sort of felt like an inside man. A spy even. It wasn’t enough to secure a win, but (y/n) never really cared for that.

Everyone was bidding their new friends goodbye, or just idly standing by. He promised Kenma to unblock his number, but only if they never talked about Kuroo again. (Y/n) knew he was being petty, but if it meant never talking to that piece of shit again, so be it-

“Stop ignoring me.”

Speak of the fucking devil. (Y/n) didn’t turn around, choosing to clutch the edge of his black jacket instead.

“Then stop trying to fix a friendship that never existed, Kuroo.”

“Oi!” Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) shoulder harshly, pulling him back and making him stumble a little. (Y/n) pried and clawed at Kuroos iron hard grip. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed Kuroos touch, a lot.

“Can we please have a civilized fucking conversation? I’m fuckin begging you here!”

“Stop fucking cursing and let go of me you fuckass scheming bitch!”

(Y/n) swung at Kuroos head, but avertedly missed. He wasn’t sure if he missed on purpose, or if Kuroo ducked. Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) waist, earning a choked squeak, and hauled him over his shoulder. Kuroo looked for a secluded area, ignoring the fists digging repeatedly into his back and the confused stares he got passing by his team and (y/n’s) teammates.

Kuroo practically threw (y/n) off his back, him stumbling down and hitting the back of a wall a bit harshly, and trapped him between his body and the wall. Both of his hands were on either side of (y/n’s) head, and his legs were long enough to trap him in if he tried to escape.

(Y/n) shrunk back into the wall ever so slightly, but kept the scowl present on his face. Kuroo pursed his lips and sighed.

“(Y/n)-“

“Let me go. I don’t wanna tal-“

“GODDAMNIT (Y/N) IM BUSTING MY BALLS HERE TO TELL YOU THAT IM SORRY!” Kuroo slammed his hands against the wall again, earning a surprised flinch from the smaller boy. “FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! PLEASE!”

Kuroos eyes softened a bit when he finally met eyes with (y/n’s) petrified form, cowering against the wall with his arms tucked in shakily. (Y/n) was quick to push past Kuroo though, diving past him and turning around, free from the wall.

“You see-this is what I fucking hate about you! You act so slick and perfect to the point where you lead people on to think they mean something important to you! I wanted to be a writer, Kuroo! I gave that up to spend my time bouncing a fucking volleyball around with you, and what did I get?! Nothing! I only did it for your stupid friendship, yet I didn’t even get that!”

(Y/n) practically had steam rolling out up his ears, and his words dripped with pure hatred with each retort. Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but (y/n) beat him to it.

“So if you really want to apologize, give me back the blood sweat and tears I wasted on this stupid volleyball shit!”

(Y/n) punched at Kuroos chest with trembling hands. He kept punching and hitting Kuroo until Kuroo gently grabbed his wrists and pulled him into a hug. Kuroo felt him balling his fists into his back, trying to push him away, but he knew he was stronger. (Y/n’s) mouth was muffled by the cloth of Kuroos shirt, yet he still kicked and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“LET ME GO! I WANT MY CHILDHOOD BACK! I WANT ALL THE YEARS I COULD’VE BEEN WRITING OR LITERALLY BE DOING SOMETHING I ACTUALLY FUCKING LIKE BACK! ITS YOUR FAULT! ITS YOUR FAULT THAT MY ARMS HURT EVERYDAY! ITS YOUR FAULT I GAVE UP ON WRITING! ITS YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU! I HATE VOLLEYBALL! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you! I-I hate...I....”

Yelling turned into incoherent sobs as (y/n’s) punches died out into love taps. Kuroo said nothing, rubbing circles onto (y/n’s) back, who finally gave up and weakly wrapped his arms around Kuroos waist. He stained Kuroo with his salty tears, choking out half assed “let me go”s in between hics and sobs like a broken record.

They stood like that in comfortable silence, Kuroo combing fingers through (y/n’s) hair while the smaller boys sobs turned into occasional sniffles. Kuroo rocked gently from side to side, attempting to calm him down until he was ready to talk.

“I just wanted to be your friend, stupid Kuroo...” his words were barely understandable through the cracks and sniffles of his voice-also being muffled by Kuroos chest-but the taller boy heard every word as clear as day. He rested his chin on top of (y/n’s) head, looking off to the side.

“Sorry. If it means anything, I was stupid enough to hold a childhood grudge against you. You did nothing wrong. I just...i was dumb and disliked you because I thought you were lazy and annoying even though you were anything but that and...yeah. Sorry.”

Kuroo pulled away from the hug, the cold air hitting (y/n) like a truck. He silently whined at the loss of contact, wiping away stray tears with his team jacket. Kuroo awkwardly held his hands behind his back, his tongue suddenly feeling too big to fit comfortably in his mouth.

“...I’m sorry too.”

(Y/n) averted his gaze, his eyes half lidded and puffy from crying. Kuroo looked at (y/n) with a blank expression.

“Why?”

“For um...being annoying or something. And like...bitching a lot. I’m sorr-.”

Kuroo grabbed hold of (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him violently. “Don’t apologize! You don’t have anything to be sorry for! It’s my fault! Let me take the blame!”

“God shut up you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“...sorry.”

Kuroo looked like a kicked puppy, which made (y/n) burst into a fit of laughter. Kuroos ears perked up as he was graced with the sight of (y/n) wiping happy tears off his face and clutching his stomach. It was a beautiful sight, so beautiful that it made Kuroos chest tighten.

Chuckles died out into snickers as (y/n) huffed and leaned against the wall.

“So-what are we? Friends?”

Kuroo hesitantly nodded, watching (y/n’s) face intently for any sign of protest. When (y/n) broke out into a smile, Kuroo felt like he was on cloud nine. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders after so long. He felt like he was flying.

“We should probably head back. I gotta go back to my schoo-“

“Yeah. Yeah that’s probably..smart...”

It was kind of bittersweet knowing you had to say goodbye to someone you just got your hands back on, but after (y/n) unblocked his number right infront of him before enveloping him in a hug, he supposed it was alright.

“Bye~! call me~” (y/n) mouthed out, stepping onto the bus. People started asking him if he was crying, or what that meltdown was about, but he just shrugged and put some earbuds in with a reserved smile.

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) has, and probably will have forever.

But not when I’m with you.

——————

Epilogue:

“(Y/n)!” Kuroo ran up behind the boy and picked him up, twirling him around before setting him down. Tsukishima visibly gagged while Yamaguchi snickered behind him, stepping off the bus and preparing for the training camp.

“Yo! What’s up! God I missed you and your stupid hair.”

“I missed you too~”

...

“So...are we-“

“Yeah, that’s what we said on video chat right? I mean-if you meant it and all.”

“I DID!” Kuroo picked his new boyfriend up, this time placing a chaste kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“And god I love you so much.”

——————

And that’s it!! I hope you enjoyed this series!! Also thank you for 100 followers!! I’m so thankful!!

#hq x male reader #hq fics #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo angst

967 notes · View notes

jayz4dayz · 3 years

Note

5 for Meariri?

Of course! This was a lot of fun to write!

Prompt: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Jealousy

It was hot. Hot and sticky and miserable. Truth be told, Mary wished Kirari would have chosen a less humid location for a getaway. Technically, Mary wasn’t even supposed to be there considering this was a student council event. She wasn’t fond of a single person on the council aside from Ririka, who was the only reason why Mary agreed to go in the first place.

She just couldn’t say no to Ririka who was so excited to go and was happy to invite her to come along. Besides, sharing a hotel room alone with her girlfriend and relaxing without the burden of school work for a few days didn’t sound like a bad idea at first. Anyone would have jumped at the opportunity to go on an all expense paid trip to an exotic tropical island in another country with their significant other after all.

What Mary wasn’t prepared for was the blazing hot sun, humid weather, and having to shop for a new bathing suit and temporary clothes with Ririka because their luggage got mixed up with someone else's at the airport.

What she certainly wasn’t prepared for was the overly flirtatious clerk at the swimsuit shop who was all too eager to help Ririka find a perfect fit. Ririka was oblivious, of course, and didn’t understand that the young man was heavily flirting with her. But Mary knew and it was starting to piss her off the longer his eyes greedily awaited for Ririka to exit the dressing room in a bikini she had picked out.

“I don’t know, it looks a little tight in the bust,” Ririka said shyly from the dressing room.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you come out? Then I can see if you need a bigger size or maybe take your measurements,” the man grinned, reaching for the handle of the door.

“Um, no. I think the fuck not,” Mary stopped him in his tracks. “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.”

The man raised a brow at her. “Alright, ma’am. See if your friend needs a bigger size then.”

Friend. The word made Mary bite her tongue for she wanted to say she was much more than Ririka’s friend. It left a bitter taste in Mary’s mouth as she grumbled, walking into the changing room.

Almost instantly, her sour mood shifted the moment she saw her girlfriend shyly holding her arms as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The bikini was an aquamarine color and fit her body near perfectly. It showed off her well toned stomach and seemed to fit in all the right places. She was stunning as always, only now even more so.

Ririka smiled slightly, blushing when she saw Mary’s wide-eyed expression. “H-how do I look?”

“Hot,” Mary breathed out. “I-I mean you look great!”

“Thank you, love. Do you think it shows off too much of my body though?” Ririka asked, lowering her arms.

To Mary, it didn’t show off enough. Not that she’d ever admit. However, it was revealing enough that she knew people would definitely look twice if they walked past Ririka. It was hard enough for her to keep her own eyes off of Ririka, but perhaps that was only because she was her girlfriend. Besides, Ririka was going to be wearing this bathing suit for one reason and one reason only: to swim. It was either this or a wetsuit, which both Kirari and Mary discouraged her from doing since the ocean water was relatively warm and it would have just been a hassle.

“Would you like a one piece instead?” Mary snickered.

Ririka pouted. “Well, not really. I kind of wanted to get a tan.”

“Babe, you don’t tan. You burn,” Mary scoffed. “And this’ll mean you’ll need to put on extra sunscreen.”

“Hm, maybe you’re right. I’ll just get a one piece,” Ririka agreed, beginning to strip down.

“You could get both,” Mary suggested. “One for the beach and one for the pool at the hotel or for other occasions. That is if it’s in our budget.”

Ririka grinned. “Money’s not an issue, so I think I will! Thank you, dearest.”

Mary maintained her tsundere attitude, rolling her eyes when Ririka briefly pecked her lips. However, she failed to hide her blush or the smirk that made its way onto her face from the sudden affection from her lover.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just hurry up so we can meet the others at the beach spot,” Mary chuckled.

Ririka’s hand intertwined with Mary’s and she grinned as they walked along the sandy sidewalk. Seeing Ririka smile warmed Mary's heart; she rarely saw her girlfriend smile. She was used to seeing the creepy smile of Ririka’s mask, something Mary was grateful Ririka left behind for this trip.

Mary received several glances from onlookers, which she normally wouldn’t pay any attention to. Until she realized they weren’t staring at the two of them, they were staring at Ririka. She was in her two piece and Mary supposed that and Ririka’s platinum hair drew a bit of attention. She protectively held her girlfriend close to her, scowling at whoever stared at her for too long.

Ririka paid no attention to that or the people who looked at her. She only smiled brighter, thinking Mary was only being extra affectionate to her which she’d gladly accept. She’d never deny it since Mary typically only showed her affection when they were alone or occasionally when they were with friends.

“Clingy today, hm?” Ririka teased.

“Maybe,” Mary grumbled, her cheeks reddening.

Ririka recognized that tone of voice. Mary was greatly irritated by something. What it was, Ririka couldn’t figure out yet. It was hot outside and she knew how much Mary hated hot weather, but soon they’d be in the cool, soothing water of the ocean. So she didn’t dwell much on the thought.

Once they arrived at the location, they were greeted by Kirari and Sayaka. Kirari immediately handed her sister a bottle of sunscreen, to which Ririka began to complain. The two started to bicker while Sayaka insisted for Ririka to apply sunblock. The conversation bored Mary, so she walked over to an empty area and took her beach towel out of her bag. She laid it across the sand before sitting down, watching sea birds dive into the ocean.

Eventually, Ririka walked over to Mary in defeat, plopping down on the towel. She laid her head in Mary’s lap and pouted, looking up at her.

“Riri, you’re gonna get sunscreen on my jeans!” Mary laughed, brushing a loose strand of hair out of Ririka’s face.

“Kirari put too much on me,” Ririka cringed, trying to rub the whiter areas on her arms that still had sunblock on it. “I don’t burn that badly.”

Mary snorted. “Yeah you do. Even worse than I do.”

“Whatever,” Ririka groaned. “I want to swim eventually. Maybe I’ll see some fish.”

“Nah, chances are you’ll only see Midari trying to drown,” Mary replied. “If you’re lucky, you’ll see Yuriko-senpai drown trying to save her.”

Ririka looked out at the shore, seeing Midari chasing Yuriko with a dead or perhaps horrifyingly still alive sea jelly as the poor girl shrieked and tried to evade her. “Hm... or Yuriko will try to drown Midari herself.”

“Yeah and Midari would probably let her,” Mary snickered as she too watched Midari torment Yuriko. “Maybe that was her plan all along, the damn masochist.”

“I don’t know,” Ririka sighed in disinterest. “Will you go swimming with me?”

“Later maybe. I don’t wanna get covered in sand if I can avoid it,” Mary responded curtly. "Besides, then I'd have to change out of my jeans which I really don't wanna do."

Ririka grinned, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s waist. “Do you want to just stay like this for a while then?”

“I can get used to this,” Mary smirked in agreement.

And so they did, enjoying the ocean breeze and each other’s presence. For a while at least, until Kirari and Sayaka returned. Mary only glared at them as they approached, hoping they were only coming over to grab something from their bag or that they’d walk right past them.

“We’re playing badminton,” Kirari announced with her signature sly smile, wrapping her arm around Sayaka.

“That’s nice. Have fun, I guess,” Mary raised a brow at them in dismissal.

Sayaka’s face was bright red, regardless of her efforts of trying to remain in her professional Secretary persona. “T-the President is referring to the four of us.”

“Tch, I’m not playing against her. She never plays fair for gambling or sports,” Mary scoffed.

“Your incapability in athletics is no excuse for accusing me of not playing fair, Saotome,” Kirari faked a pout that made Mary’s blood boil.

“We’ll play only if I choose who’s on each side,” Ririka chimed in. “And Mary is very athletic, Rari. Her flexibility is impeccable.”

Mary’s face felt hot as Ririka winked at her, catching on to the double entendre. “T-thanks.”

Kirari pursed her lips. “Very well then. I have no issue with this.”

Ririka grinned and looked at Sayaka who was still practically attached to Kirari by the hip. “Sayaka, are you alright with being my partner for this?”

Mary instantly felt a stab of betrayal and she could tell by Kirari’s sudden shift in expression that the feeling was very much mutual. The younger twin squinted at the blonde, silently voicing her displeasure with this sudden arrangement. Mary shot back a sinister glare with just as much venom.

It was clear neither were expecting Ririka to choose Sayaka. It would have been less surprising had she chosen Kirari, even. Perhaps this was all for Ririka’s entertainment, knowing that Kirari and Mary would rather eat sand than pair up together for anything.

Sayaka gave Kirari a look of panic to which Kirari gave a slight nod, kissing Sayaka’s forehead before releasing her. Sayaka’s expression immediately softened.

Sayaka gave a light smile. “I would be honored to be your partner, Ririka-san.”

Jealousy tugged at Mary’s heart. She despised feeling jealous of Sayaka, someone she knew followed Kirari around like a lost puppy and devoted her life to her. Maybe it was because she knew Ririka shared the same face as Kirari that made her feel like Sayaka was some sort of threat. Mary of all people knew that Ririka and Kirari were two very different people, regardless of their similar features. Yet it still got under her skin.

“Now that it’s settled, I’m going to ask Runa to be the score keeper,” Kirari spoke up; her tone was bitter.

Mary sighed, getting up and dusted off the sand from her legs. She watched as Kirari and Sayaka walked towards the volleyball net which she was sure they were going to use for their game.

Ririka smiled mischievously at her to which Mary responded with the roll of her eyes. “Was it really necessary pairing me up with Kirari?”

“Of course it was,” Ririka nodded. “You said you wanted things to be fair. Had Kirari and I been on the same side, there would be an unfair advantage since the two of us are unstoppable at pretty much every sport. Had I paired us with each other’s significant other, all of us would be distracted. This pairing assures that Kirari won’t try to cheat because you’ll be there to catch it, though I’m not sure how she could cheat in badminton. Regardless, this will be a good way for the two of you to work on your team work skills and maybe help you bond with each other.”

It made sense at least, but the last thing she wanted was to be on the same team as Kirari Momobami. Hell, she would have rather been paired with Sayaka and accepted whatever loss they took if the twins dominated in the game. She couldn’t have cared less about victory or loss seeing as how she didn’t even want to play in the first place.

Being paired with Kirari complicated things. She knew how competitive Kirari was and she did not want to hear Kirari’s constant complaints and reminders of how shitty of a player Mary was if she didn’t put any effort into the game.

So Mary was trapped, and very much frustrated with the whole situation. All she could really do was sigh and grin and bear it for the time being. It was just one game after all. How bad could it be?

Mary severely underestimated just how competitive Kirari was and Ririka for that matter. Her girlfriend was right in saying that she and Kirari would have absolutely had an advantage had Mary been paired with Sayaka. In all honesty, it looked more like the twins were going against each other rather than all four of them.

Mary and Sayaka couldn’t keep up with how fast Ririka and Kirari were. Their speed and accuracy was almost inhuman; Mary and Sayaka more or less gave up and just watched the twins compete. It’s not like they were able to attempt to score anyway; Kirari and Ririka were always quick to beat them to it.

Because of the twins rarely missing a hit, the game stretched on far longer than Mary wanted. Both sides were tied and still needed several more points to win. Even Runa looked like she was growing bored, scrolling on her phone since she knew this game wasn’t going anywhere.

The only good thing about this was that Mary got to watch her lover sweat and see those beautiful muscles go to good work. She looked so beautiful, even like this. Her eyes had a fiery tint to them, glowing from her competitive spirit. It made Mary's core burn with desire.

Ririka was panting heavily by the time Runa called for a break so the twins could catch their breath. Mary and Sayaka were hardly breaking a sweat, not that they had a reason to anyway.

“Sayaka and I haven’t scored a single point, so I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask Ririka to play with you,” Mary commented.

Kirari panted, tying up her hair that had long since fallen out of its braids. “I’m beginning to regret not doing so. You haven’t been very helpful.”

“Because you won’t let me hit the feather thing!” Mary shouted in defense.

“It’s called a shuttlecock, heathen,” Kirari huffed. “And I know you’d likely intentionally miss and allow the other team to score so you can get this game over with.”

“Honestly at this point, yeah,” Mary confirmed. “I just wanna be done with this and spend the rest of the day with my girlfriend.”

“Well I refuse to lose in front of Sayaka,” Kirari muttered. “So you’re sorely mistaken if you believe I’ll concede to defeat so easily.”

Mary sighed. “If I make an effort to help you win, do you think the game will end sooner?”

“Perhaps, but if we lose even after you give your all, you know I won’t let you hear the end of it, don’t you?” Kirari smirked.

“I expect nothing less and I really don’t give a shit,” Mary grumbled.

“Oki! Let’s resume!” Runa shouted in a clearly faked cheerful tone. “But I’m changing things up. The team to score the next point wins!”

“Why the sudden change of rules, Runa?” Sayaka asked.

Runa sighed. “I’m tired of being the scorekeeper and I wanna go swimming, so let’s get this over with.”

That news was music to Mary’s ears. Now that it was just one point she had to worry about, her mood finally turned competitive. She wanted to end this. She wanted to win this not just to keep Kirari off her back, but to impress Ririka as well.

Everyone got into position. It was Ririka’s turn to serve and Mary didn’t keep her eyes off of her. Ririka glanced over at Mary, giving her a quick smile before serving. Kirari was quicker than Mary, hitting the shuttlecock back onto the other side. Mary rolled her eyes and watched as Sayaka hit it next, sending it towards her.

After sending it back and forth several times, things became rather intense as now all four participants kept their eyes glued on the shuttlecock flying through the air. Mary knew Sayaka was expecting her to always send it to Ririka, so she decided to catch the violet-eyed girl off guard.

Thwack. Sayaka and Ririka watched as the shuttlecock glided through the air. Mary watched as if it were in slow motion as Ririka ran to hit it and surprisingly didn’t miss. However, she crashed into Sayaka in the process, falling on top of her. It wouldn’t have been as bad had Ririka not accidentally placed her hands on Sayaka’s breasts, making the entire scenario all the more awkward. Both Mary and Kirari watched with wide eyes, completely ignoring the fact that the shuttlecock had already landed in their zone.

“O-oh my god, I’m so sorry, Sayaka!” Ririka squeaked and instantly lifted her hands, her face turning bright red from embarrassment.

“That’s… that’s…” Sayaka couldn’t even finish her sentence for she also was too embarrassed.

Mary snapped out of her gaze when she heard laughing next to her. She snapped her head towards Kirari who looked all too amused by this.

“Ara, ara, what I would give to be in my dear sister’s position right now,” Kirari grinned cheekily.

"Does that not make you even a little bit mad?" Mary hissed.

Kirari chuckled. "Of course not. I find this to be quite amusing."

"Of course you do," Mary growled.

“Ririka-chan’s team wins!” Runa announced, startling all of them. Apparently they had forgotten she was there. “Game over! Finally.”

“Good,” Mary grumbled, storming off away from them.

She heard somebody call out after her, but she paid no attention to it. What happened was a complete accident, she knew she shouldn’t have felt angry or jealous. The fact that it happened to Sayaka and not her was perhaps what made her the most upset. But she knew she had to let it go. It was a stupid thing to be upset over.

She plopped down onto her beach towel with a huff, glancing towards the crashing waves in the distance. She saw Midari’s arms wrapped around Yuriko’s waist as they allowed the water to rush past their knees. Mary wished that was her with Ririka right about now. Perhaps not in the water, but instead in the comfort and privacy of their hotel room.

“Are you alright? You looked really upset,” a familiar voice said from behind.

Mary slightly turned her head and her face softened upon seeing her girlfriend. “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just tired.”

Ririka knelt down, her cerulean eyes full of concern. “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you? You can talk to me, you know.”

‘Yes, the fact that I haven’t had a damn minute alone with you yet today and people left and right have been looking at you in a way only I should be,’ Mary wanted to say.

Mary shook her head. “Like I said, I’m tired. Don't worry about it. Do you still want to go swimming?”

“Of course!” Ririka grinned. “The badminton game really made me hot so I want to go cool off. Are you going to join me?”

“Maybe I’ll dip my toes in,” Mary smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “But don’t push your luck.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there then,” Ririka said softly, kissing the top of Mary’s head.

Mary watched Ririka walk over to the shore before wading her way into the water. She chuckled when she saw her dive into a wave and move her platinum hair out of her face when she returned to the surface. She looked happy. Seeing that made Mary happy. Though her day hadn’t gone as planned in the slightest, she was at least relieved Ririka was having fun. She rarely got a break like this and genuinely had fun. School work and helping Kirari run their psychotic family was stressful enough on top of maintaining their position as top gamblers. Ririka deserved a chance to breathe and be herself for once.

Mary got up and rolled up her pant legs before walking over to the shore. She noticed that Ririka had swam much deeper into the water, but wasn’t too concerned. She shivered slightly when the cold water touched her feet, but it was refreshing nonetheless. It was hot anyway, so it felt nice.

She stood there for a moment enjoying the breeze and the shifting sand beneath her toes, finally feeling calm. That is until she saw a lifeguard run past her and into the water. She was swimming closer and closer to where Ririka was which caused Mary to panic.

All she could do was anxiously wait and watch as the lifeguard tugged Ririka parallel to where they were until they reached the shore. Mary sprinted to them, still in a panicked state of mind. Ririka held onto the lifeguard’s arm, her face red either from exhaustion or embarrassment… or because the lifeguard was very attractive.

“I-is she okay? Is she hurt? What happened?” The blonde asked frantically.

The lifeguard gave a friendly smile. “Your friend got caught in a rip tide, but she’s alright now.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Ririka stuttered in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it,” the lifeguard assured her. “Just be careful swimming in this area of the beach. Alright, beautiful?”

That was it. That was the comment that made Mary nearly lose it. It was too much. With all that had already happened, the flirting from the clerk earlier, the looks from people on the street, Ririka falling on Sayaka, and now the attractive lifeguard flirting with Ririka, Mary's jealousy had finally gotten to a point where she was about to snap if she didn't get so much as a minute alone with her girlfriend.

“Thanks for saving my girlfriend, ” Mary said in the nicest tone she could, emphasizing on the word 'girlfriend.'

“Just doing my job,” the lifeguard nodded. “You two have a good day now!”

Mary crossed her arms, trying her hardest to not let her inner emotions show.

“Mary?” Ririka asked with caution. “You okay?”

Mary huffed, looking up at her. “Yes. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Ririka smirked.

Mary’s face turned bright red. “No! I just...yes. A little.”

Ririka knew that was an understatement. She took a step closer to her lover, looking down at her. Mary was pouting and refusing to look at her now. Ririka placed a hand on Mary’s cheek, turning her face to look at her.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” the platinum haired girl whispered seductively.

“I-I know that! I’m not doubting your loyalty or anything! I just don’t like people looking at you the way I do,” Mary admitted, placing her hand over Ririka’s lovingly.

Ririka chuckled. "There's so much irony in this situation."

Mary raised a confused brow. "Huh?"

"You think I don't get jealous whenever someone looks at you with lust in their eyes? There are girls and boys in school including in our friend group who I know would give anything to be in a room alone with you," Ririka explained.

Mary was all too aware of her popularity at Hyakkaou. Heck, every Valentine's Day she received love letters from people she'd never even met. Being a top gambler had its perks, but Mary didn't necessarily consider that to be one. Especially now that she was no longer single and had to reject people instead of just brush them aside.

"Our friend group? Who?" Mary asked with a bewildered expression.

"Ryota," Ririka said softly.

"Okay, Suzui doesn't count. He gets flustered around everyone. Remember how much he blushed when he saw you without your mask for the first time? He's just a bundle of awkwardness," Mary explained with a scoff. "Who else?"

Ririka hesitated. "Yumeko."

Oh. Now that Mary could understand. Yumeko was a touchy person by nature, but she was different around Mary. Perhaps it was because she had feelings for her or maybe it was because she was close to Mary. Whatever the reason, Mary could see why Ririka could be jealous of her.

Mary rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Yeah, okay. I can see that. I've never had feelings for Yumeko though."

"Really?" Ririka asked with wide eyes.

"I care about her and all, but she has a hard time with boundaries. You always respect my boundaries and care about how I feel. Even today, you checked in on me when you felt like something was wrong," Mary blushed.

"And something was," Ririka nodded. "Communicating is important, my love. Without talking to me about these things, our relationship wouldn't be solid. We agreed from the start to be honest with each other about everything, right?"

Mary smiled fondly. "Right."

"So be honest with me now. You haven't gotten what you've wanted all day," Ririka sighed, placing her hands on Mary's hips. "What would you like to do now? What do you want?"

Mary licked her lips and breathed out. "You."

"I'm all yours," Ririka whispered.

Ririka's eyes sparkled with desire. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pulled Mary close, pressing their two lips together. Mary smiled into the kiss and the world around them fell away. All they could hear was the crashing waves behind them. It was a moment, a single blissful moment that felt like a lifetime. Kissing Ririka always had that affect, like she was the only other person in the world.

The two broke free for air and pressed their foreheads together.

"I want more," Mary panted. "Somewhere alone with you. Do you think we can go to the hotel?"

"Hm, perhaps. Though the rental car is closer, don't you agree?" Ririka smirked.

The heat between Mary's legs grew more prominent now and had this been any other time, she would have obliged. But she wanted absolute privacy with no risks of being intruded.

Mary shook her head. "No, I want to be alone in a room with you. I need you, Riri."

Ririka grinned, briefly kissing Mary's lips once more before holding her hand, gently tugging her to walk away with her.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

#kakegurui #mary saotome #ririka momobami #mary x ririka #meariri

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witchypandamonium · 2 years

Text

It’s All a Performance (Silco/f!OC)

Amara and Sevika gets a little bonding time over fashion

Post-Act 1 Silco/f!OC Chapter 7 of ? 2,389 words, SFW No warnings

AO3 link

Amara couldn’t help but chuckle as she looked into the display window of the atelier. What a pair hey made, her and Sevika, shopping in the more expensive area of the Bridgewaltz—one a skinny waif in thrice-patched hand-me-downs, the other broad as a house with a weapon instead of a left arm. She caught the shopkeeper glancing their way from the front desk, confusion and concern flashing across her features before a neutral salesman smile was donned as they entered.

“How can I help you two?” Her voice was strained and mousey, as though all she wanted to do was melt into the floor—quite possible with the stern glare Sevika was fixing her with.

“Need a dress for this one,” Sevika jerked her thumb to Amara. “Something fit for a Gala; something the Pilts won’t stick their noses up at.”

The mention of Piltover only seemed to confuse her further, but the bag of coins held out to her in Sevika’s mechanical hand seemed to explain enough—Chem-Baron business. She gave Amara a once-over, seeming pleased with her new model. “How soon?”

“Friday,” Sevika replied tersely.

The woman did a double-take, but the wheels in her head spun fast. She must be used to dealing with all sorts of wild requests from Chem-Barons. Most in the Bridgewaltz probably did. “One of my display pieces, then. You look about the right size—I should only need to tailor it a little.” Walking to the back, she pushed a curtain aside to reveal a small gallery room. “If nothing in the window works, feel free to peruse the private collection.”

Let loose, Amara felt a little overwhelmed. These gowns were… way too nice, at least compared to what she normally wore, even to performances. Her little dresses were pieced together using slips, shawls, and whatever nice pieces she could find from clothes the Piltovians discarded after wearing once—a sort of whimsical order made out of chaos. These were all made with a clear intent from the very beginning. They were all so beautiful.

Sevika, meanwhile, was back to trying to appear disinterested, but she lingered particularly close to a slick woman’s suit in a tasteful gray wool, a dusty light green silk worked in on the lapels’ smocking, looking almost like dragon scales. Amara slowly sidled next to her and gently cleared her throat. “You ever get to go to these sorts of formal negotiations?”

The woman grunted. “Nah. Not even if he wanted me to. I’m the muscle—I don’t clean up.”

Giving a noncommittal hum, Amara ran her hand along the geometric smocking of the jacket lapel. “You’d look good in something simple like this… Grays and blues… You have a favorite color?”

Sevika gave a dismissive snort, glancing at the singer with narrowed eyes. After a long pause, she finally shifted and relaxed to openly examine the suit. “Green.”

Amara could see it. “You’d make a light shade pop nicely.”

A simple hum was Sevika’s only response, turning away to find something else to fiddle with to hide the pink that Amara just noticed starting to color her cheeks.

That settled it—if she ever had to go to another event, she was going to request Sevika come as backup. A little extra protection never hurt.

She spent maybe ten minutes just admiring it all, floundering as to how to even start, before Sevika muttered, “Silco’s wearing black and red.”

Mouthing a silent “Thank you,” Amara was finally able to narrow a few down. She’d never been so nervous handling a dress as she was when she carried the three finalists to the dressing room. With the amount of labor put into them, she might as well have been holding gold. Sevika huffed and rolled her eyes when asked, but sullenly followed to help her pick. The designer was right—she was exactly the right size (the bust was a little big, but she could fix that with a little padding). The last one was the only one to get a reaction from the muscle—a nod and a curt, “That one.”

A slender silhouette in near-black aubergine silk with a high collar and a straight skirt, it was covered in embroidery that evoked the elegant iron-wrought glass so favored by the Undercity. The sleeves started with a sharp ridge on the shoulders, but from the elbow down it was all softness with sheer, flowing chiffon in a deep red. A broad expanse of the back was all but exposed, only covered in the sheerest fabric.

Whatever amount Silco had given them seemed to be more than enough, and the designer was half-way through folding the dress delicately into a box when suddenly she gasped and looked at her as though she were growing a second head. “Wait! Are you the Siren?”

Startled, Amara had to take a moment to collect herself before she nodded—she’d been afraid the woman was about to reject them or summon the Enforcers or something. “U-uh, yes?”

“Oh my gods! I can’t believe it!” The designer was bouncing on her toes like a little girl, hands flying to cover her mouth. “I just bought your album! I’m a huge fan!”

“T-thank you,” Amara stammered, fidgeting as she felt her cheeks redden. She was used to being treated like a cherished regular in the little local joints, so the sudden rise to minor celebrity would still taking some getting used to.

“Are you going to a release party?”

“You could say that.”

“Oh! You’ll need matching shoes! I have the perfect set—no charge!”

Before Amara could object, the woman was off to the back room, returning remarkably quickly with a pair of embellished violet pumps. She’d never walked in heels that tall, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to refuse—the woman seemed so happy to be outfitting her. “I really appreciate it.” If I fall on my ass, it’s your fault.

“Please come back the next time you’ve got an event—I can make you something custom with enough time in advance!”

Packed and paid, Sevika motioned for her follow down a different street than the one they came down. “I’d rather we take one of the Chem-Barons’ private conveyers—less opportunities for some prick to try his luck.”

Amara couldn’t argue with that—admittedly she was clutching the bag very close to her person. If it were smaller, she’d have hidden it in her coat. It would be a bit of a longer trek, but it would take them around the shadiest areas of the Sump where things tended to disappear.

In the lift, Sevika handed her a letter that she’d had stashed in a pocket somewhere under that poncho. Just like the others, it was held shut with his large, dark red wax seal. “We’ll be dealing with a little business just before, so take this back up and he’ll meet you at the bridge. If anyone gives you trouble, you flash them this.”

“An ‘I can do whatever I want’ letter?” she laughed.

Sevika snorted. “Your celebrity already going to your head?”

“Gods, no. It’s gonna be a lot harder to get my pickpocketing fix now.”

It took a moment for Sevika to realize it was a joke, eyes narrowing before finally rolling with a small puff through her nose.

For a bit Amara forgot about the dress—she considered the day a win solely for managing to get a laugh out of Sevika.

The high didn’t last long, however, as Sevika insisted on following her the entire way to her house. “Boss’s orders,” she said with a shrug. At least Silco wasn’t so big that even his right hand was recognizable, so Amara ruefully acquiesced. Perhaps it was a good thing, because just as she reached her front door, she was swung around by a surprisingly strong hand on her shoulder.

“You have anything to spare?” It was Brod. He was trembling in the late-fall chill, though an errant twitch in his hands hinted at something more going on. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, with heavy bags under his eyes and sweat paradoxically on his brow.

Sevika immediately jumped into action, shoving the old man away with a gruff, “Back off, bud.”

Barely able to keep on his feet with how far he was pushed, Brod stomped back to square up against Sevika, shaking hands clenching into fists.

“I-I’m sorry!” Amara shouted, trying desperately to deescalate the situation. “I’m sorry, Brod, you startled me. I-I don’t, but if it’s food you need, I could make you some bread…”

The old man remained in a stare-down with Sevika for a few tense moments before turning away with a growl. “Bitch took my money,” he grumbled to no one in particular, stumbling back to his apartment stoop, “ruined my fucking life. Now she’s turned the neighbors against me… I’ll show you, bitch!” screaming curses in a rage Amara had never seen in him before, she couldn’t keep from jumping nervously as he punched out a nearby window, watching him warily until he disappeared down the alley, the sounds of banging following in his wake.

“I’ve… never seen him like that…” she muttered, clutching her bag tight to her chest.

“Pretty typical junkie behavior,” Sevika replied, jerking her head to Amara’s front door with a little clearing of her throat.

Snapped out of her shocked stupor, Amara fished her keys from her pocket. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You want me to rough him up?”

“No!” she nearly dropped her keys as she whipped to face the bodyguard. “Brod’s just… he probably just got fired again. He’s harmless.”

The noise Sevika made suggested she didn’t believe her, but she let it drop for now. Pulling a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it with a practiced flick of a gold lighter, she let the smoke escape through her nose and shrugged. “I’d give him some space, regardless. Don’t forget: Friday at five, the bridge.”

Nodding, Amara gave Sevika a small wave good-bye and headed inside. Immediately she stashed the bag in the safest place she had—under a loose floorboard beneath her bed. She wasn’t sure why; she’d never worried about a break-in before, but something about Brod unsettled her. Between him and the lock Silco had unfortunately broken to get in when things had gone bad that night, she decided to be safe and take a few precautions.

She still lived in the Lanes, after all. And good fortune drew trouble like honey drew flies.

•••

An entire shipment. Gone. All because one man decided getting laid was more important than keeping watch. Silco was livid.

“And you couldn’t find even the slightest evidence as to who set the fire?” He stood slowly, carefully, the only outward hint of his anger being his clenched fists.

“I-it was either blown to shit or in the bottom of the river when I got there,” Jax, one of his newer hires who’d clearly gotten too cocky, stammered.

“I still don’t understand how you managed to botch such a simple task,” he growled, slowly rounding the terrified man. “Simply watch the boat until the Enforcers changed shifts. You’re a capable man, so how exactly did you end up in the brothel?”

“I-I was just talking, I swear, but she fucking dragged me in there, horny bitch. …H-hey, maybe she was in on it?”

Silco had already had his men interrogate the entire brothel—Jax had strutted in there of his own accord, stating that he had “plenty of time on his hands” and that “the boat ain’t goin’ nowhere”. He and Margot, Chem-Baron who owned of all the pleasure-houses in Zaun, were also on good terms. The brothel was in the clear.

“Now, now,” he sighed, “there’s no need to start flinging blame around. Mistakes happen, right?”

“Y-yeah…”

“It will set us back, but fortunately it won’t happen again.”

Before Jax could reply, Silco threw a fast, powerful punch to his gut, nearly folding him in half and bringing his face in the perfect position for a knee to the jaw. The moment his hand hit the man’s skull, it was like a switch was flipped, his mind filled with nothing but rage as he straddled Jax’s chest. He could barely register anything other than the pounding of his heart in his ears as he landed punch after punch, long after Jax’s arms stopped trying and failing to block the storm of blows—not the drunkard shouting outside, not the pain in his knuckles, nor Sevika’s sadistic chuckle as she turned to leave. As the door opened, however, a voice cut through the fog from the club downstairs and he was struck with a moment of cold, sobering clarity.

“You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne”

Jax’s blood pooled beneath his head, staining the wood flooring, and suddenly a sight that he’d long ago grown accustomed to made him feel something akin to shame. He was a monster—a fact he bore proudly—just as stained as the planks below him. To be flirting with such a lovely creature as Amara… it was distasteful. His life was a brutal battle of his own making, and not one that he should be pulling her into. She could help Zaun rise from the muck when the time finally came, step into a better life, but it was a future someone with hands so soaked with blood as he would be barred from. Punishment for his crimes would someday come due, this he knew, and when the Undercity was free he would surrender to it willingly.

He had to stop the game, distance himself from her, so she could be free of his corrupting influence. Give her deniability. Safety. She deserved far better than anything his filthy hands could provide. It stung like a lead weight in his gut, but better to do it now (or, rather, after the Gala) than let her charms worm her way further into his chest.

Withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket as he stood, he went about the familiar task of cleaning the blood from his bruising knuckles.

“Sevika, clean this mess up, will you?”

(PS: here’s the dress!

A lovely piece by Hassidriss)

#arcane #league of legends #silco #silco/oc #f!oc #eventual smut #sfw #it's all a performance #sevika

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seijch · 3 years

Photo

of slushies and shitty coffees ft. iwaizumi hajime.

🍬 iwaizumi hajime + gender neutral!reader

🍬 1.5k, convenience store worker!reader, vague immortal and reincarnation au

🍬 this was for vee but i think she deactivated 🧍‍♂️ its also the first one i wrote back in october so its ... maybe not my best

"you know what i am, don't you?" + being immortal boils down to 70% loneliness, 20% doing whatever the hell you want, and 10% recurring nuisances that bear an odd resemblance to your first love.

To say you hated working the night shift would be an understatement.

Sure, most days it passed with relative ease and allowed you to study on the clock, your studies rarely interrupted. A group of friends with the munchies here, a fellow student in need of a pick-me-up there, and an elderly woman that came in like clockwork at the 4am mark to buy cat food for the strays living nearby. You were well-acquainted with the few regulars of your shift and fond of the night manager, Saeko. On paper, there would be little to hate.

But the classes you had a mere three hours after your shift ended were nothing short of a living nightmare to push through; at this point, you’re sure that your blood is almost entirely comprised of the slushies and shitty coffee you spend your shift helping yourself to.

In fact, you’re in the middle of making yourself one of these slushies when the door opens behind you. “Welcome,” you throw over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the customer as you achieve slushie-making self-actualization.

Your mouth goes dry instantly.

You’re sure they don’t just let Greek gods walk into the nearest 7-11, but there’s clearly a first time for everything. He’s handsome, with a jaw sculpted from the highest quality marble money could buy. In an attempt to prevent your jaw from hitting the floor, you take a long sip of the slushie. “Fuck!” you hiss, clutching your head as you wait for the brain freeze to recede.

In the time that it takes you to get back to the register, the attractive stranger is about ready to check out. “Just this for you?” you ask, the only noise being the whir of the air conditioning and the scanner beeping at the energy bars. When you don’t get a response, you glance up at him. He’s looking right at you, but there’s something deeper behind it.

It’s like he knows you, that you’re as familiar to him as the beat of his heart, the air in his lungs. It’s both too heavy and entirely too intimate for an interaction that consists of you ringing up his 2AM transaction of three protein bars. ”That’ll be $4.17.”

He pays in exact change. Not another word is exchanged between you, but the intrigue and infatuation you have for the stranger lingers, even into the classes you have the morning after.

The next time you see him, he’s with someone else. A friend, you assume — the man with the perfect brown hair ribs at him as they walk in. Once he makes eye contact with you, however, he falls silent.

You’re beginning to feel like you’re missing out on something, especially when the stranger’s friend pulls him over, saying something in a hushed whisper. Something begins to prickle at your skin, and it’s not (just) the way the AC vent blasts on you from where you‘re sitting.

Thankfully, Saeko has excellent timing, bringing the mop out and greeting the two with a wide grin. “We doing alright over here, boys?” They nod, Mr. Shampoo Commercial saying something about midnight cravings before they make their way to the slushie machine.

”Listen,” Saeko whispers to you as the mop passes your spot at the register, “if those boys do or even say anything strange, you know what to do.” When you’d first started working the night shift, Saeko had been very clear that your safety was her top priority.

(“You college kids remind me of my baby brother,” she’d told you one night as you dusted the shelves. “I know it’d kill me if any of you got hurt.”)

You ring up two slushies: one cherry and one cola. Mr. Shampoo Commercial’s the one paying, and it’s as you‘re returning his change that he decides to speak. “Don’t you remember us?” His voice is smooth, with a dangerous lilt to it.

”Oikawa,” warns Mr. Protein Bar. “Don’t.”

”Why not, Iwa?” To you, Oikawa asks, “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

”I’m sorry,” you say, trying to keep your voice even in the face of his questions, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your foot is poised to knock over a busted shelf behind you; it was Saeko’s alarm system, something she claimed could be heard from anywhere in the store.

A look is exchanged between the two men. You don’t bother trying to read it; it’s the sea and the storm, roiling with a language only the two of them are fluent in. “Sorry,” Iwa says, taking his slushie and shoving the cherry one in Oikawa’s hands. “Have a nice night.”

You don‘t see Iwa for a few weeks. The next time you do, he’s alone. It’s another wordless exchange; this time, he’s buying two cans of shitty coffee. “Is your friend waiting outside?” you ask. He looks surprised to hear your voice, probably expecting you to give him the bare minimum after your last encounter.

”Actually,” he rubs the back of his neck, sliding one of the cans your way, “that one’s for you. Sorry about what happened last time.” He pops open the tab of his coffee. “Oikawa doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

You nod, opening your own can. ”What was that all about?” you ask, taking a stab in the dark. You miss, unfortunately: he almost chokes on his coffee, the lines on his face growing more defined as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

”Don’t worry about it.”

It‘s a shitty answer paired with shitty coffee, but you take it.

And if you notice that he almost glimmers with an unreal sheen under the flickering fluorescent light, you dismiss the thought. Nothing else seems very real at three in the morning anyway.

He becomes another regular, swinging by twice a week. Two cans of coffee, paid for with exact change. You don’t have the heart to tell him that as an employee, you could just take from the pot whenever you wanted before you had to brew a new one for the morning rush. At first, he slides the can to you and wishes you a good night on his way out, but he grows more chatty as the weeks go by.

He asks about your day, asks about class, asks about work. Never does he share anything about the life he leads outside of shitty coffee and the four walls of the humble convenience store.

But it comes, little by little, like mismatched pieces forming the mosaic of Iwaizumi Hajime. You see it in the weight of the world trapped in his gaze, the way he rolls broad shoulders as if expecting the bones to crack. Most of all, you realize as you take a sip from your can one night, it’s the way he seems to know you better than you know yourself.

It started simple enough, a nod and a flash of something on his face when you told him what you were majoring in. A knowing chuckle, more to himself, when you mention how the old woman that bought cat food was one of your favorite customers. It comes, little by little, until one piece remains. The only way to get it is to ask.

He beats you to it. “You know what I am, don’t you?” he asks as you’re lifting tonight’s can of coffee to your lips. You spare him a glance before taking a long sip, delaying a response for as long as possible.

“You definitely look too good to be human.”

The corners of his lips twitch. “It’s good to know you never change.” You set the now empty can on the counter.

“Have we met before?” Iwaizumi, at least, has the decency to look sheepish. “Your friend with the perfect hair asked if I remembered you.” He snorts with the identifier you’ve given Oikawa, but you press on. “I don’t. But I think you remember me.”

You wait with bated breath for the final piece to fall into place, but he regards you with a look you can’t read.

You’re about to chalk it up to another swing and a miss, but he pulls out his wallet, a worn leather thing. From it comes a single picture, the color faded yellow, the image predating even black and white photography.

It’s Iwaizumi, looking just the same as he does now. He’s got his arm around the person next to him, pressing a kiss to their forehead. The other person is grinning from ear to ear, and it doesn’t take long to recognize who it is.

It’s you.

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenario #haikyuu scenario #iwaizumi hajime #half-assed tagging bc i dont rlly care anymore #anyway this is a fun concept but to me its clearly one of the ones that cant be made into a 500k epic spanning all of time itself #oh to reach slushie making self actualization #me googling for firsthand experiences of 7-11 night shift workers #i see room for expansion but hm . maybe for the ao3 post #anyway . hee #shoutout vee idk if she remade but she was my first req

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