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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

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Branded - Chapter 38

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You deal with the consequences of Bucky's actions.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, whump, violence

AO3

You didn’t return home that night. The sorcerers wanted to monitor your vitals and made sure you were stabilized after the shock of the bond being suppressed. The agony you’d experienced hadn’t hurt you physically, even though it had felt like dying.

Now you felt… lost. You weren’t even numb, because being numb meant you at least knew what you were feeling. This was different and so much worse.

At least twice an hour you lifted you head from where you laid in the bed, some part of you yearning, reaching out to Bucky and expecting him to be there. But there was nothing across the bond, across the thread you hadn’t realized was there until it was gone.

The mark was still on your shoulder, but it appeared dormant. Faded pink like a fresh scar. The sorcerers said it had worked and you would no longer be compelled to be fed upon.

All you did was give a vague nod. You hadn’t spoken a word since Bucky had been frozen.

Rogers, for his part, never strayed far. He was clearly off-balance with the situation and didn’t seem to know what to do any more than you did. Bucky had sprung this on you both, and the angry part of you said he’d abandoned you to pick up the pieces yourself.

Perhaps it was cruel and unfair of you to feel that way, but anger was better than despair. You were too empty and wrung-out to cry, and perhaps that was a blessing.

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you finally dozed off, and when you woke before noon, Rogers had fallen asleep in the armchair by the bed. Just like Bucky had done when you’d woken up in this room the first time.

But he wasn’t Bucky. He could never be a substitute. A part of you wondered if that’s what Bucky had been thinking when he’d contacted Rogers. Maybe he hadn’t gone that far, but asking his best friend to “care for his girl” while he was gone sounded like some old chivalrous bullshit that he might pull. Goddammit, he might have even said as much to Rogers, assuring him that it was all right if you “moved on.”

You eyed the blond Avenger and grimaced.

When Bucky unfreezes, I’m going to punch him in his beautiful fucking face.

The thought was surprisingly reassuring, because it meant you truly believed he would wake up. In fact, you were going to guarantee it, even if you had to take matters into your own hands. Bucky had mentioned a library, and Strange was supposed to re-test you and teach you, whatever that meant.

Which meant you would be in the Sanctum on a regular basis…

…which also meant you could not only do some research on your own, you could visit every day.

They would let you visit, wouldn’t they? You didn’t know, but at least you could reassure yourself that the bond had nothing to do with your feelings for Bucky. They were as solid as ever, which was both a relief and a curse. His absence was already heavy in your chest, and it felt more akin to grief than just simply missing someone.

You got out of bed, seizing onto the determination to start, today, to help Bucky. It was New Year’s, after all. Time to get a fucking move on.

“Hey, Rogers. Wake up.” You nearly kicked his shoe but refrained, which was probably a good thing considering your voice alone startled him awake.

“Sorry.” He rubbed his face. “I must have dozed off.”

You ignored his apology.

“Do you want to help Bucky?”

“Huh?” He blinked, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. Apparently, Captain America was a slow waker. “Of course I do.”

“Good. I need to ask a favor.”

“What… kind of favor?”

“You’d just be carrying some things, that’s all.” Sheesh, what was with the nervous tone? What did he think you were going to ask? You folded your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to tap your foot against the floor. “I need to pack up my stuff and move it here. Strange is going to train me, or at least he should, and while he’s doing that, I’m going to do all the research I can into demon bonds. We’re going to free Bucky.”

“Whoa, slow down.” He rose out of the chair, forcing you back a small step. You’d forgotten how damn big he was. “What are you talking about? Didn’t Buck want you to move into his loft?”

“Yes,” you grit through your teeth. “But I need to be here. I’m sure Strange won’t mind if it means he gets to keep a closer eye on me. So, by the end of the day, I need to move all my clothes to the Sanctum and the rest into storage.”

Rogers rubbed the back of his head, one hand propped on his hip as he frowned at you.

“Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” He winced. “I mean, I don’t know you, but shouldn’t you take some time to think about this?”

“To think about what? I need to be here and I don’t have the money to waste paying rent on an apartment I’m not using.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Well, don’t worry about that. I can take care of your rent. It’s no trouble.”

Your eyes narrowed. Could have sworn you saw the sweat droplets form on his forehead, too.

“Did Bucky ask you to do that?”

His uncomfortable smile was all the answer you needed.

“I don’t mind, really.” His smile became more genuine and less nervous. “Got a backlog of pay from the US Government I wouldn’t know what to do with. I can afford it.”

“Listen, Rogers,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “I appreciate the offer, I know you didn’t have to do that, but I’m fine now. You don’t need to take care of me.”

Hoping he got the picture, you turned and left the room you’d already designated as yours. You needed to run your plan past Strange or Wong, and then you could get started right away. That was the solution to both Bucky’s freedom and the painful effects of the severed bond. When you were distracted, your mind churning with ideas, it was easier to ignore the black hole occupying your chest.

Unfortunately, a second set of footsteps caught up with you, the owner of the voice a little sheepish.

“Bucky said you’d say as much.”

“Did he also tell you how stubborn and willful I am?” you responded sharply. “Maybe even threw in the word reckless?”

Rogers surprised you with a small laugh.

“Almost word for word.”

“Well, he’s not exactly one to talk,” you huffed. The man at your side just smiled wider.

“No, he’s not.”

“Good. Then you agree that Bucky is being an absolute idiot and something has to be done about it.”

“Hey, whoa.” A hand reached out to stop you from walking. You barely tolerated it and craned your head back to glare up at him. “Listen, I know you’re angry at Bucky, but…”

That was an understatement. He smiled sadly, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“A long time ago, someone much wiser than I am gave me a bit of advice,” Rogers said. “As much as you and I may not like it, this was Bucky’s decision. He deserves the dignity of his choice, even if it hurts. Even if we miss him.”

He looked away toward the high windows where winter light was streaming inside to illuminate the wood floor.

“I wish I’d had more time with him myself, but… there’s nothing we can do. He had his reasons, and it sounds to me like they were very good ones. It will take time, it’ll hurt, but he would want us to move on—“

You pushed Rogers’ hand off your shoulder. Not roughly, but not gently either, and he blinked down at you.

“I’m not giving up on Bucky,” you said, clenching your fists as you fought to keep your tone even. “I’ll never stop looking for a solution. No matter how long it takes.”

With a heated glare, you turned and left Rogers in the hallway, grinding your teeth. You’d thought Steve Rogers would have understood if anyone could have. But he didn’t, and you were truly alone.

***

You found Wong on the way to Strange’s office, and he agreed to take you there, not looking too surprised to find you practically stomping down the carpet runner.

Strange agreed to redo the tests as well as add on a few that were more “specialized,” whatever that meant. It involved more poking and prodding with arcane instruments, but you never complained. The discomfort was a small price to pay.

The results were the same as before: you were as magically skilled as a brick, and not the kind of brick that went into building magical sanctums, either. But the Ancient One’s words must have held enough clout for that not to matter, because Strange promised you would be training under Wong the next day.

Wong didn’t look too enthused about it, and you couldn’t blame him. Regarding the last disastrous meeting, you apologized for biting him, but he waved you off and said no apology was needed. Regardless, you felt terrible. Not terrible enough for Bucky to be put into a freezing chamber, but still, pretty awful.

As you suspected, Strange didn’t deny your request to move into the Sanctum. Wong gave him a considerable side-eye when he agreed, but you’d gotten what you wanted, and that’s all that mattered.

Steve Rogers, true to his word, helped move most of your belongings to your new room. Monster complained at being put in the carrier—he’d been acting difficult lately—but once you released him into your room he settled down. You wondered what that was about and found your answer when he took off and you chased him down the hallways, leading you to the room that held…

The two guards in front of the door were trying to catch Monster, but he slipped through their fingers like furry oil and scratched and yowled at the door. Tears stung your eyes as you scooped him up, holding him to your chest, and the guards looked extremely put-out.

“Can… can I see him?” You already knew the answer but were still disappointed when you received it.

“Only the Sorcerer Supreme and those with his approval may enter,” one of them said, eyeing Monster.

Your focus went to that heavy, stone door. Intricate glyphs were carved into its surface, and you wondered if even a hobgoblin could slip past them. It took every ounce of your willpower to step away, to leave Bucky all alone, you held Monster tightly as you walked back to your room.

“It’s okay,” you spoke softly into his grey fur. “We’ll be able to visit at some point. I’m sure. If the bond is suppressed, then what danger could there be?”

Danger or not, Strange wouldn’t let you see Bucky. “Not yet,” was his response when you asked. For now, according to him, you needed to focus on your lessons, which consisted of meditation, learning the combat stances (sorcerers could fight?), and learning to conjure.

The meditation part was the easiest, or would have been if your mind wasn’t a constant bundle of anxiety. The martial arts lessons were definitely more interesting, even if your body was laughably clumsy and uncoordinated. You saw other “students” around, but you always trained with Wong alone. When you asked why, he cited the fact you were at the same learning level as a 6 year-old. The hit to your ego made you stop asking about joining the others.

Days turned into a week. A week into two. You’d returned to work, a truly surreal experience especially with seeing Davin again. He was kind and spent more time with you than he used to, sitting with you during lunch and then walking you to your cab after work. A part of you wondered if he knew. If Bucky had asked him to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

You didn’t ask.

Steve Rogers didn’t stop by every day, but he was there at least twice a week. At first it was awkward—what were you supposed to talk about with an Avenger?—but then he began to share history. Tales of his and Bucky’s youth and all the ways they got into trouble. It was through your common interest in Bucky that you began to warm up to each other, and he never had a shortage of stories when it came to his childhood friend.

Sometimes, he would get this yearning expression, and you were uncomfortably reminded that he and Bucky had been much closer than simple friends. You wondered if Rogers knew that you knew.

It was normal for a person to compare themselves to a partner’s ex. You weren’t sure how to feel being compared to Captain America, except the fact you couldn’t compare at all, and Bucky had definitely downgraded. You weren’t a super soldier with biceps the size of melons.

Regardless, Rogers’ company was appreciated and comforting, unlike when it had been simply tolerated before. But by week two, you were no longer coping as well as you once were. Perhaps Wong noticed during your lessons, because when you asked him once again if you could see Bucky, he had a different answer for you.

You stood outside the door, nerves tingling as the two sorcerers on guard duty unlocked the room with some complicated hand gestures. The door swung open heavily on its hinges, and you stepped forward, fists pressed against your thighs.

The room hadn’t changed, still dim and creepy with glyphs running along the walls. The iron chamber was where you’d last seen it, lit from within with a pale, ghostly light. It made the man inside appear barely real, darkness in the hollows in his cheeks and cast by the shadows of his horns.

“No touching,” one sorcerer barked when you reached out toward the lid. You retracted your hand, twisting your finger anxiously as you looked back at the guard.

“Can I have a moment alone?”

“No.”

You turned back to the chamber, your chest aching with the gnawing emptiness that never left. It was worse in Bucky’s presence, but it was worth it just to see him again. To know he was still alive, even when it didn’t feel that way.

There was so much you wanted to say to him, but even a whisper could be overheard in this place. So you thought back to the way you’d communicated with Bucky in the demon realm, a place where you’d had no voice but he’d heard you anyway.

Bucky, if you can hear me… I want you to know I’m so sorry.

He didn’t stir. You hadn’t really expected him to. You should have felt silly to stand there, talking to yourself in your own mind, but you didn’t. If anything, it felt like praying.

I’m going to find a way to set you free. From the bond, from this prison. And then you can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. You don’t… don’t even have to stay with me. You can be with Steve again, if that’s what makes you happy.

You swallowed down the painful lump in your throat and pushed past the heavy weight on your heart.

How many times have I told you I’d never give up on you? I meant it then and I mean it now. Just… hold on a little longer. I’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever I have to so you can come back. So you can have a life you deserve. It’s the least I can do for… for… This is all my fault, Bucky. The bond, the time-loop, you breaking your deal with the Ancient One. It should be me in there, not you.

You took a steadying breath and blinked away the tears. Tears meant that you had conceded, and you weren’t ready to give up on him. Not now, not ever.

I’ll fix this, Bucky. I will.

I have to.

You stayed as long as you could, even as you shivered and grew colder in the chamber’s presence. It was constructed of thick metal and appeared air-tight, and yet, the longer you stood there the further the temperature dropped. By the time the guards informed you your time was up, you were trembling and your teeth clattered together.

You really, really hoped Bucky couldn’t feel the cold.

***

The resolve to stay away from Bucky’s apartment didn’t last much longer. That night, you informed Wong that you would be spending the night in the penthouse. You used the excuse that you wanted to make sure everything was in order. Maybe Bucky had some plants he needed watered, or something.

Wong just shrugged and said you weren’t a prisoner and could come and go as you pleased. Of course, that’s what he said, but you’d noticed the robed sorcerers trying to blend into the crowds as you got in and out of the cab for work. Bucky had been right when he said the wizards didn’t have parking, and you’d been forced to keep your car at Bucky’s building once you broke your old apartment lease.

You didn’t mind that the sorcerers were watching you. It was comforting in a way, even if a large part of you was still angry at Strange. You were pissed, but your brief encounter with the Ancient One had convinced you that the sorcerers weren’t malicious or evil. They seemed to be trying their best to protect the world from magical threats, even when their efforts fell short.

Tonight though, you wanted to be alone. Away from sorcerers and magic and iron chambers that looked too much like coffins.

After the taxi drove you to the building, the desk clerk greeted you as if he’d been expecting your arrival. You stepped inside the elevator and tried to relax as it carried you to the highest floor. You were exhausted down to your bones; maybe staying the night wasn’t a bad idea after all.

The place was exactly the same as Bucky had left it. There wasn’t even any dust aside from the snow that had gathered on the outside of the clock face windows. It was still too damn cold, and you pulled your coat tighter around you, slowly turning 180 degrees to gather in the large space.

Your old stuffed animal that served as your animus was nowhere to be seen, and you hoped it was someplace safe. Knowing Bucky, it was. Still, you wondered what would happen to it now that the bond was silenced. Would it revert to an ordinary toy, or would it still contain your metaphorical heart?

You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

Pulling off your jacket and shoes, you crawled under the soft covers of Bucky’s bed, stretching out on the silken sheets. That was one thing you’d noticed about his bed. Maybe Bucky really enjoyed soft things, but he didn’t seem like the type to indulge himself. He’d said something about heightened senses; perhaps his skin had been too sensitive for ordinary cotton?

The curiosity in your thoughts tumbled away as you buried yourself into Bucky’s pillows, still strong with his earthy, musky scent. You missed him so much, and the magnitude hadn’t hit you until that moment. You hugged the pillow tight to your chest and allowed the hole in your chest to ache.

You drifted off like that, holding onto the pillow like a lifeline. It could have been minutes or hours later when your eyes snapped open. The hairs on your nape stood straight and your heart raced in a panicked beat. A stench permeated the air, familiar and sickening. Like rotten eggs.

You dashed across the bed, but not fast enough; a hand closed around your ankle and yanked you backwards. You yelled, clawing into the sheets as you were dragged across the mattress, and you hit the ground hard enough to lose your breath.

The face hovering above you was one you thought you’d never see again. Sickly green eyes glowed with malice, and the flower petal-like appendances of its face pulled back to reveal rows of neon green teeth. A mist the same radioactive color as its teeth leaked from its esophagus, and you covered your mouth as you screamed and kicked it in the shin.

The Alp gave a deep, terrifying howl, and you crawled across the floor and then scrambled to your feet.

Where was your phone? Your bag? It was dark, you couldn’t see. You clipped your leg against the couch and fell onto the hardwood floor, banging your knees.

You could hear it coming, its stink in your nostrils even if you couldn’t see it. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed, you couldn’t go for it.

Gritting your teeth, nauseous from the smell and the adrenaline, you dashed toward your only hope left: the elevator.

You didn’t make it even halfway. A hand grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back. You cried out, clawing at the fingers holding onto you, but the Alp didn’t relent.

Its other arm grabbed you around the waist, and that’s when the world tilted on its axis. The room spun, colors shifted and glowed together, and your stomach dropped as if you were on a roller coaster. Your surroundings blurred, and for the flash of a second, you saw red dunes and smelled burning, sulfurous air. The shape of the mountain range in the distance, the multiple moons hanging in the dusky sky, you knew them. Knew them intimately because you’d watched them for forty-eight years.

Before you could take another breath the world shifted again, and you were in a cold, dim room lit only by electric lamps and caged light bulbs.

You tore yourself out of the Alp’s grip, staggered and fell again, gasping as you hit the cold stone flooring.

You ignored the pain and cold temperatures as you scurried away from the demon. It didn’t lunge for you; it stared at something just above your head.

Before you could turn around to see for yourself, something jabbed into your shoulder, and pain shot through your body as your muscles seized and your nerves caught fire.

The flow of electricity stopped, and you collapsed without another word or show of resistance. You could barely breathe, your vision swimming. The echo of someone’s footsteps passed by your head, and then a man was speaking, his voice soft and accented.

“Stupid creature,” he said, leaning down in front of you. A soft touch at your neck, almost gentle. No matter how much you tried to focus, his face remained blurry. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions. And now look what I had to do.”

The man rose to his feet and left your field of vision. The last thing you heard before slipping away was the crackle of a cattle prod and the broken, tortuous wailing of the Alp.

Next Chapter

#branded #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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lunnanunna · 4 years

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Balancing Act

BTS Extra Member AU

Summary: Lexi comes late to practice due to a late filming and ability to handle both is questioned.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @kimonmars @mythicalamphitrite @hyunmijung @atinygracie @xiaojunssmile

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open for each OC! Please let me know what you think.

Lexi sped walked down the hall and to the practice room. She had been held up an extra hour and a half at the filming spot and was now very late for practice. (Hopefully the boys will be understanding.)

She made it to the door and readjusted the strap to her Balenciaga gym back (A gift from Jungkook for her birthday) then opened the door. Once she stepped in, she wished that she hadn’t at all.

The smell of sweat was everywhere. The mirrors were steamed up. All of the boys were splayed around the room in various states of consciousness. Lexi suddenly felt like she had been slacking off. All of the aches and pains, the exhaustion from the 10 hour shoot, plus their comeback prep, seemed miniscule compared to the drained and vacant looks on her members’ faces.

“Ah, she’s here.” Lexi turned to the voice, finding a man that she was unfamiliar with. Judging from his crouched position by the stereo and opened tablet in his hand, Lexi figured he was the famous choreographer that would be working with them for this comeback, Park Hyunwoo.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi said, sheepishly, taking a small bow.

“Hey, Lex,” Taehyung greeted as he walked over to her. He draped an arm around her shoulder and Lexi scrunched her nose at the gross feeling of sweat. (She hated sweat.)

“Hi, Oppa.” She still smiled, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek in greeting.

“How was the filming? Was there a lot of difficulties?” Namjoon asked from his place on the couch. He was slouched back, legs open, hands neatly folded on his stomach.

“A lot of lines were forgotten, and then it rained, so we had to push back a scene until it stopped. Then there were many many technical difficulties. I came as soon as we finished. I literally propelled myself into Oppa’s car,” Lexi said, giggling at the last part. Just the image of Sejin’s eyes bugging out as Lexi launched herself in and shouted at him to drive, brought a smile to her face.

“You probably scared the shit out of Hyung,” Jungkook chuckled as he walked up to her. Taehyung detached himself from her, as Jungkook came to hug her from behind, nuzzling her neck. He must have been really tired to openly snuggle like that.

“Well, that’s cute and all, but you’ve missed 2 hours of practice. You are aware of how far behind you’ll be now, right?” Hyunwoo asked. Lexi could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” she bowed again, cheeks heating up.

“Hyung, it wasn’t her fault,” Seokjin stated, “She can’t control how filmings go.” Seokjin was right. Lexi had finished all of her parts with ease, but she still had to stay because the other actors in her scenes were struggling, leading to Lexi having to redo her part over and over again.

“I really am sorry. I promise to work twice as hard to catch up. Kookie even sent me the video of the choreo and I’ve been practicing between scenes,” Lexi said, nodding her head hastily.

Jungkook removed himself from her back at the frenzied motions. He stood by her side and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze to steady her. He could sense her need to prove herself at all cost, and knew that she’d get worked up.

Lexi squeezed back, grateful that her best friend could read her so well. “I promise, that even though I wasn’t working as hard as the guys here, that that doesn’t mean I’m not working hard at all,” she stated, a bit more calmly now.

“Lexi, no one’s saying that you aren’t working hard,” Hoseok said, offering her a warm smile.

Hyunwoo looked at Lexi, and she felt like he was looking into her soul, as if to judge whether or not she was worthy of a place in the group. His eyes locked with hers and then he let out a huff of air. “I understand.”

“What?” Lexi asked, confused about what exactly he understood.

Hyunwoo folded his arms over his chest. “I understand that you being late today wasn’t your fault, but you need to remember that the group takes first priority. Your main focus should be here. I understand that you’re working hard on this drama, but you also have a comeback coming up,” he stated, tone even. Lexi didn’t sense anything off from it. He seemed to generally be worried for her and the group.

“Yes, I’m aware. But the boys and the company have always supported me in acting. I’ve missed some group events due to scheduling, but BTS is my number one. It has always been and always will be. I’d die, before I let the group down,” Lexi stated, seriously. BTS was her life, acting was just something she did on the side.

“Lex, that’s a bit extreme,” Yoongi stated, not liking her choice in words.

She turned to him and smiled. “But it’s true, Oppa. The group is too important for me to let down,” Lexi said.

“We’re all onboard with her acting career as long as she can handle both responsibilities. But she also has us helping,” Namjoon stated, nodding his head.

“Yeah, and you heard her. She practices by herself whenever she gets the chance, even though she must be tired from filming,” Jimin added. Lexi turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll work hard to not fall behind,” Lexi promised, giving a nod.

Hyunwoo looked at her then at the boys, chewing his lip. “Alright,” he shrugged, “As long as you know your limits and weaknesses. If you’ve always worked hard I don’t see why you'd stop now.” He smiled at Lexi and she smiled back even wider.

“Hyung, it’s been a long day and you’ve helped us a lot. We can take it from here and help Lexi out,” Hoseok said.

Hyunwoo contemplated the idea a bit, then nodded. “Alright. You boys were looking good today, and I trust you to teach her well,” he said then he began to gather his things.

“Thanks, Hyung,” Namjoon said, and the others followed in thanking him as Hyunwoo left the room.

“I thought I was going to get yelled at,” Lexi said, sighing and closing her eyes.

Jungkook chuckled next to her. “You were that nervous?”

She opened her eyes and gave him a blank look. “Very.”

“Have you eaten dinner?” Seokjin asked.

Lexi shook her head. “I mean I had a snack, but I didn’t have time to actually grab a meal. It’s kind of late though.” And by late she meant half past midnight, way past dinnertime.

“Well, I think you should eat a proper meal before we start practicing,” Seokijin said, whipping out his phone to order some food for them.

“We could all eat some, then work. I’m kinda hungry,” Taehyung said as he reached for Lexi’s bag and placed it by theirs.

“I like that plan,” Namjoon said as he sat on the floor, the others joining him.

“How far are you in the choreography?” Hoseok asked Lexi as she sat next to him.

“About half way, but I still need to polish the first half,” she answered, pulling out her phone to bring up the video and show him how far she had reached.

“Wah, that’s our Lexi! Such a hard worker,” Hoseok beamed, patting her head. Lexi almost purred at the affection. Filming her drama meant not seeing the boys as much. She really missed them.

“Okay, well the food is on it’s way. We’ll eat then practice,” Seokjin announced.

“What should we do until then?” Jimin asked.

“Lexi could tell us a little bit about next week’s episode,” Taehyung suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Lexi mimed zipping her lips and shook her head. “You’ll find out along with everyone else,” she said playfully glaring at him.

“Lexi’s good at keeping secrets like this. She’d never tell, so stop asking,” Yoongi said, leaning back on his hands.

Lexi’s Masterlist

#bts #bts au #bts 8th member #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop oneshots #female kpop additions #rm #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #v #jungkook

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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and i’ll miss you

a run to paradise au | [ p l a y l i s t ]

Summary: Lola’s dad, Leo, lives. A series of conversations between Lola, Leo, and Irene, her mother, throughout her life.

A/N: 15,449 words. @misscharlottelee @local-troubled-writer for putting up with me all through writing this. this is making me so fucking emotional you don’t even know. lola’s parents aren’t shitty i promise!! i will say that lola is manipulative but it’s never for negative or selfish (mostly) reasons, but still thought i should warn you.

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Lola’s sixteenth birthday present from her parents is tickets to see KISS perform live when they were set to come to town in a few months, seeing as how they were currently her whole family’s favourite band. Well, okay, they were her dad’s and her’s, and her mom liked their music well enough but was never fanatical. However, Irene would hum along and tap her foot as she did the diner’s banking for the night once it had closed, as Lola and Leo blasted their music from the jukebox as they were cleaning up for the night.

“A friend of mine got me the tickets,” Leo was telling Lola, “you know Bill, he’s the guy who always eats his fries with no sauce,” he prompts, and Lola makes a noise of recognition.

“He hasn’t been in for a while,” Lola pointed out; he’d been a regular for as long as she could remember, he was a good friend to her father, and once snuck them onto set for a TV show he was working on at the time, though Lola didn’t recognise the show, her dad was overjoyed.

“’Cos he’s been managing KISS!” Leo’s practically bursting with excitement, acting like a big kid, up to his elbows in dishes with his daughter beside him, drying them. Lola, upon hearing this news, almost screams.

“Sweethearts, please don’t let the neighbours think we’re being murdered,” Irene called out from the counter, though there was the faintest smile in her words, and both Lola and Leo called back an apology.

----

For each day that the concert grows closer, Lola grows more anxious. Her friends, while she enjoys their company and their tastes in music, are far more fond of ABBA, and don’t get why Lola’s so excited about punks in face paint. Lola’s cut out a picture of KISS and sticks in the front of her binder, and one friend wrinkles her nose at it, calls them gross.

Lola likes ABBA. Lola likes all sorts of music, Leo had made sure of that, but it was disheartening that her friends weren’t so open minded. Which is why she can’t ask any of them what to wear to the concert; they don’t go to rock concerts. Her dad’s ‘you’ll look kick ass in anything, Lola’ is well-meaning but unhelpful; he has to say that, he’s her dad! Surprisingly, it’s her mom who saves the day.

“You’re fretting, Keola,” her mother says softly. They’re in the diner, side by side at the counter during a lull; the hiss of Leo cooking from the kitchen, and the hum of music from the jukebox fill the air, but Lola’s twisted the straw in her hands that no matter how she untwists it, it’s mostly unusable, not that she’s noticed, looking at the wall where her parents have put their music memorabilia.

“I’m not fretting,” Lola huffs a little. The concert is in two days and she still doesn’t know what to wear, “mom am I a dork?” And it’s more nervous than Lola had wanted it to sound, even if it had been playing on her mind for almost a week.

Irene’s lips twist into something faintly amused at the phrasing, but her eyes are kind and gentle.

“Sweetheart, you are mine and your father’s child,” she says, “we are both very big dorks.” Lola gives her a look as if to say ‘that’s really not what I wanted to hear right now’, but Irene continues, “but I would also say we’re the coolest people I know; me, your dad, and you, of course.” At least at this, Lola’s expression softens, turning honest and a little forlorn.

“All the outfits I try for Saturday make me look like a dork,” she says quietly, “and my friends think KISS is gross.” She doesn’t intend for it to sound petulant, or whiny, though it comes across like that a little, but thankfully her mother can hear how genuinely sad this all makes her.

“Do you want to borrow something from me?” Irene asks, and Lola gives her a somewhat sceptical look that she’d been expecting; her daughter’s only ever known her as her mom, and as an accountant. Even now, she’s in a smart, black button-down and black slacks, knowing full-well that the dress code at Leo’s is quite casual. “I wasn’t always a grown up, you know,” Irene gives a faint grin, and Lola gives her the benefit of the doubt.

----

“Dad, stop- come on dude, be cool,” Lola insisted as she stepped out of her room on Saturday evening, wearing a band t-shirt of his that he’d leant her, her favourite black jeans with the rip in the knee, Doc Martins that had been a present for her last birthday, and the leather jacket from the back of her mom’s closet.

Leo was tearing up. Irene says his name very softly, her hand on his shoulder, but her expression is understanding. He’s really trying to keep it together, but his expression keeps scrunching up like he can’t quite help himself.

“Is that your jacket?” Leo’s voice is strained, looking to Irene.

“The one I wore to every concert we’ve ever gone to together,” Irene tells him, and Leo wraps her up in a hug, hiding his face from his daughter as to not appear as emotionally overwhelmed as he clearly was.

“I can’t believe we raised the coolest kid in the world,” Leo finally spoke, clearly crying with pride. Irene laughed softly from amid his embrace, and as much as Lola could act embarrassed, she herself was trying to act like she wasn’t getting emotional, “it’s her first concert and she’s already cooler than me.” Leo crowed.

“Dad,” Lola said, trying to sound embarrassed, like she thinks any other teenager would probably be, and not grateful, the way she actually feels, “you’re gonna have to redo your eyeliner.” But she can’t help herself, and joins her parents, if only to hide how emotional the moment was, in the way they wrap her up in a group hug.

And before they leave, Irene sets firm ground rules, to make sure neither of them goes too haywire; above all, Lola is never to leave Leo’s sight, she’s strict about this.

“And Lola,” Irene adds, taking a deep breath, “but if you end up meeting the band, if Bill wants to you and dad to say hi after, I know this seems silly, but please promise me something,” Lola frowns a little at her mother’s intensity, but nods as a prompt, “don’t touch them. Don’t let them touch you. Don’t shake their hands. Don’t leave your father’s side at all. Please,” and she looks to her husband, expression imploring, “Leo please, I know you think I’m overreacting, but please.”

“I promise,” Leo says, as serious as Lola’s ever heard her father, and Irene gives a grateful smile, and wishes them a wonderful night.

----

Lola doesn’t have to ask her father if he can see alright, even as she’s sitting on his shoulders; he towers over most of the crowd, and from this vantage point, Lola feels like the most powerful person in the world... Right before the opening act finishes, and KISS walks on stage.

They know all these songs too well, have been listening to them intently for months, and Lola and Leo belt the lyrics back like their lives depend on it. They mosh together when she climbs off his shoulders.

“Don’t you wanna push through to the stage?” He yells over the music; he’s ready to steamroll through the crowd if Lola asked, but she’s shaking her head, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d rather hang out back here than for people to start throwing stuff at you because you’re blocking their view,” she points out, before adding, “don’t be weird, dad, I’m doing this for the greater good.” Leo raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning from ear to ear with pride. He doesn’t say that she’s considerate, he doesn’t argue that even if she were at the front of the crowd, he could still stand back and still have her in his sights, he just enjoys the moment, enjoys the fact that his daughter still likes his company.

“You’re a good kid, Keola,” he tells her seriously, as the song is winding down. Lola makes a face at that, but then grins and shouts;

“And whose fault is that?!” With amusement and love in her voice.

She’d had her angry, bitter moments, had cursed him and her mom and the diner and the work she had to do when her friends were out being hooligans, but he was grateful for moments like this, for moments when he knew that deep down, she loved him, and loved her family.

As the night comes to an end with three encore songs, and as everyone’s filing out in a messy stream, a pair of surly-looking security guards cut easily through the crowd to Lola and Leo, telling them that they need to come with them. Lola, terrified that they were going to get reprimanded for how she’d been sitting on her dad’s shoulders and probably blocking people’s view for a third of the show, is glued to her father’s side as he’s trying to make conversation with the now-silent security detail.

But then there’s Bill, former diner regular, current KISS manager, beaming from ear to ear, welcoming them backstage with open arms, wishing Lola a happy birthday, giving a joking apology that the tour was two months too late for her. Lola laughs with relief, and steps apart from her dad as she follows Bill through the theater’s winding corridors to the green room, but Leo’s still got a hand on her shoulder; she’s glad for the contact, not wanting to get lost.

“You sure we’re allowed to be back here,” there’s something strange in her dad’s tone, like he’s trying to imply something that goes over Lola’s head. Bill gives him a knowing, but reassuring look, as he tells Leo that it’s fine, and that the band will be on their best behaviour while they’re there. His gaze flicks to Lola for a moment; she’s confused, what, are they drunk or something? Even at sixteen, and as much of a wild child as her father was - and still kind of is - she’s naive.

Well, okay, the band are already drunk, but at least that seems to be the worst of it.

They’re still in their makeup, though it’s a little smeared, a little sweated-through, but they’re bright and friendly and forthcoming, and seem so grateful when Leo and Lola both babble their praises. Bill introduces them as old friends, as ‘Leo and his daughter, Lola’ with a strange emphasis on daughter that Lola doesn’t catch, but then the band, who’d been watching the two of them, watching Lola talk about how cool it was, how much she loves them, they look at Leo as if seeing him for the first time. He’s bigger even than the security guards, with his hand on Lola’s shoulder, standing close to her; the band are watching him like startled rabbits all of a sudden, and when Lola looks to her father, she sees him levelling a look of warning at the band. The moment he sees Lola looking, however, he grins down at her, and addresses the band.

“Listen, we’re absolutely stoked to get to meet you guys, you fuckin’ kick ass -”

“Kicked. Fucking. Ass!” Lola agrees as punctuation, and the tension in the room eases considerably as they all give a fond chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“You want a beer, man?” Ace Freehly asks, and Leo hesitates, looks to Bill, who nods, and then to Lola, who’s finally looking around the dressing room with wide-eyes.

“Just one,” Leo concedes, and Lola nervously asks if she can look around. She gets permission, and Leo sits on the arm of the sofa that Bill had taken up, asking the band what kind of music they listened to in their spare time.

Lola’s naive, but she’s not an idiot; she’s heard bands sing about how they loved girls who were seventeen, she’s heard gossip about celebrities with young girlfriends, hell, she’s at an age where her friends are talking about ‘fooling around’ and it actually means something. And she’d seen how the some of the band members had looked at her, the way she’d dressed up to fit in, maybe looking a little older than she was - she can hear her mother’s warning in her head, and knows why her father was acting protective. For all that the kids her age might think she’s being too safe, being too childish, her parents have never lead her astray; if they’re working this hard to keep her from the band, there was a good reason, and she’d trust them on that.

They leave in much better spirits than they’d arrived, the tension having defrosted between Leo and the band, but even so, as they’re saying they’re goodbyes, and shaking hands, someone offers Lola his hand, but she hears her mother’s voice and moves on instinct, taking a step back, a step closer to her father, though she’s beaming and waving and thanking them for getting the opportunity to meet them, and see them play, and Leo’s hand wordlessly comes to rest on her shoulder, even as he’s using the other to still shake hands. It’s an unspoken connection between them. An understanding for which Leo is so incredibly grateful.

She’s a good kid.

----

“I hear you’re gonna start helping mom with the finances,” Leo says, tone light as he approaches Lola, squirrelled away in the corner booth that’s unofficially hers, as she pores over her homework.

“All I said was that I was thinking of taking a few of the business subjects as electives,” she says, not looking up, sounding distracted, “and music.” She added, as if to put her father’s heart at ease.

“Business subjects?” Leo asks, sliding into the seat across from her. Lola’s holding her highlighter in her mouth, looking up from what looks like English notes. She nods. Leo is quiet, and folds his hands on the table and gives a look that he hopes is intrigued, or curious, or some sort of non-judgemental prompt for her to explain why.

“Mom’s like a calculator of a person; if you could win at doing taxes, you know mom would win taxes,” she says, sitting back and pulling the highlighter from her mouth to fidget with, “and the only reason you don’t have a Michelin Star is because the inspectors are classist, bitch-ass jagweeds who wouldn’t even make the detour that you’re worth -”

“Lola,” Leo admonished her phrasing with a slight frown, and her scowl deepens as she looks to her father.

“Mom said it first.”

“Your mom did not call the Michelin Star inspectors classist, bitch-ass jagweeds,” he countered with, and Lola huffed, knowing it was the truth.

“She called them classist,” she corrects herself, sinking further into the chair and into her terrible posture, “and the other stuff she said too, just not the bitch-ass jagweed stuff,” she concedes, before sighing, and almost out of view from how badly she’s slouching down in her seat across the table, “but I’m just... here, and sometimes I think about seeing if I could talk to Bill about being a musician because I’m kind of okay at piano and singing and that stuff, and I love music and I think it’d be cool to have a job in the music industry, but every time I think about getting a note wrong while someone’s watching me I feel really sick, and now every time I even think about playing in front of people I start feeling really sick, so I’m trying not to think about being a musician, but I keep having these little ideas for the diner and I think about how one-day I’ll be helping run it, and I don’t wanna do what you guys are doing here, so maybe doing not-finance-business-stuff could be my thing.” She’s laying side-ways on the seat of the booth by the end of her rant, hands beneath head, staring at the gum someone’s put there. When she’d finished her homework, she’ll grab the scraper. Oh god, what other teenager thinks like that? Mom was right, she is a dork... Okay, maybe she should have realised sooner, like when she developed a strong opinion on the Michelin Star inspectors.

“Two things,” Leo says, after a beat of silence; he’s still sitting perfectly still, and his voice is kind, “one; if you want to have a job in music, you don’t have to be on stage, you don’t have to have people looking at you if you don’t want,” and as he speaks, Lola slowly raises herself to a sitting position, “and two; what ideas do you have for the diner, kid? I’ve always said we need a designated ideas man, I think you’d be perfect for it.”

In the end, still helps Irene with the finances, though her mom somehow manages to make it interesting, and Lola will always fondly look back on the night she and her mother had taken a break from working on the coming month’s roster to drink milkshakes.

“You’re his favourite person in the world, Keola, he’d steal the moon if you asked,” Irene spoke fondly of her husband, “and of course you’re my favourite too, sweetheart, but I draw the line at using our entire life savings and mortgaging the diner to buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner -”

“But theoretically,” Lola was trying to hold back her laughter, “if we did, we’d have enough money that we could buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner.”

“You’re greatly underestimating the amount of tomatoes we’d need,” her mother chuckled.

“What if I got a great deal on tomatoes, since we’re buying them in bulk?”

“We’re not -”

“Theoretically!” Lola had crowed, which had dissolved into laughter, while her mother played up her annoyance with a sigh, though she was grinning from ear to ear. As the laughter dies out, and Lola finishes her milkshake, she looks over the draft of the roster, and hums. Irene, intrigued, hums in return, hums a question.

“You should put Parker on the weekend; give him the Friday and Saturday nights, and the Sunday lunch,” Lola muses.

“I thought you said he was annoying? Do you want him cooking out the back?” Irene leans forward, following her daughter’s gaze and frowning at the messy schedule.

“Fuck no -”

“Language.”

“He ignores dad’s ‘no idle talking in the kitchen during the rush’ rule, and when he’s serving when it’s not a rush he won’t shut up about WWE, but, he’s cheerful as hell and works well under pressure, which,” Lola takes the eraser from the table and scrubs off a name, before taking the pen from her mother and writing the same name elsewhere, “is why Candice should be taken off the rush on Saturday since she had a meltdown the last three times she was scheduled then. But she’s really good when it’s slow; she refills stuff, helps with prep, folds napkins into swans, and makes great conversation with customers.”

Irene marvels as her daughter talks through a schedule that would optimise each of the strange and wonderful employees they had, and realises something with startling clarity.

Irene knew how the numbers worked. Leo knew how the food worked. Lola knew how the people worked.

----

“Sweetheart, it’s your second-last Prom, wouldn’t you rather go than spend the night at work with your parents?” Irene asked; Prom night was always a slow one, even for a Friday. Lola gives her mother a strange little smile, tapping her fingers against the counter.

“I’m gonna leave it up to chance,” she said, which confused her mother, who was refilling a napkin despenser.

“Leave what - oh, Candice; I know you worked hard as her campaign manager, but she’d want you there with her, win or lose,” Lola’s parents had been confused but supportive when Lola announced that not only their server, Candice, get nominated for Prom Queen, but that Lola was going to be her campaign manager, despite the fact that Prom Queen nominees didn’t usually have a campaign manager.

Candice, who was flourishing with her new shifts, curtesy of Lola’s scheduling, was more than happy to agree, and the two became fast friends. Lola herself was blossoming with the new task, staying up, excitedly making posters, and writing speeches, and hoarding the phone for hours every night to talk to Candice, and the new friends she seemed to be making. It wasn’t that she was unpopular, it’s just that she was standoffish, quiet, and focused, and took pride in her work, which happened to be at her parents’ diner.

Between the campaign, being in charge of the rosters for the diner, the general work she did around the diner, and her school work, Lola’s life was pretty full, and she was surprisingly happy.

Leo had overheard when Candice had approached Lola after her shift, had pointed out how Lola had scheduled her to work on the night of the Prom, and how Lola had sworn before profusely apologising. Lola had offered to cover the shift, and been quick to reassure Candice that it was okay, that she didn’t need Lola at Prom, that she’d do great and be wonderful and that all the hard work was done; now she just needed to look pretty and win. Candice had wrapped her up in a hug, overflowing with gratitude, assuring Lola that she’d owe her one, and in turn, Lola had brushed her off, saying it was nothing, apologising again for the scheduling mistake.

At the time, Leo’s heart had swelled with love for his daughter, proud of her for sticking to her commitments, and for being so kind and reassuring. On the night of the Prom, he sees Lola looking a little giddy, almost a little nervous, and thinks she might just be worried about Candice. Then, when the diner is at it’s quietest, there’s noise outside, and Lola almost shrieks, much to her parents’ dismay.

“They’re here!”

Through the windows, the little family, and the few other employees see a hoard of well-dressed teenagers, some where crowns and sashes, making their way past the window, lead by Candice in a crown, beaming.

There’s chatter, as the other teenagers realise where they are, saying they love this place, some a little tipsy making grateful noises as they divide themselves into groups and fill over half the diner in an instant. There’s a booth where everyone’s wearing crowns, and Candice leaves them, assures them she’d be back, before she bolts to Lola, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. The girls squeal about how Candice won, and she’s adamant she couldn’t have done it without Lola. Of course, Lola humbly brushes it off, babbles about how proud she is.

It ends up as one of the busiest night they’ve had in months.

Perhaps she’d just wanted to help a friend, maybe she’d worked in some way to bring the Prom to her when she ended up not being able to go; mostly her parents think it’s a fluke.

Until the next year.

Until, amid college applications, scholarship applications, work, and homework, Lola sets her sights on campaigning for their new cashier, Abigail, her classmate.

Until it’s her last Prom, and again Lola’s had to swap shifts with the girl she was campaigning for.

Until her parents hear it again.

“They’re here!”

It’s deja vu, with Abigail in a crown, so overjoyed, and grateful, bring with her even more than had been there when Candice had won.

“Didn’t we come here last year? Fuck, man, this place is the fuckin’ best, we should do this every year!” A boy in a white tuxedo announces to a resounding cheer, and yes, he seems a little bit drunk, but Irene and Leo have paused in their food prep to see Lola turn and look directly at them, upon hearing these words, grinning from ear to ear like it was her plan all along.

Oh.

“We may have raised a super villain,” Leo muses, though he can’t stop himself from sounding a little proud as Lola turns back around to head back out and take more orders from students clamouring for food.

----

“I feel like we should sit you down and talk to you about... something, but I’m not quite sure what,” Leo says, wiping down the tables well past midnight, while Lola was cleaning the windows that somehow had grease stains on them. Irene, from where she was organising the till, where they had received so much so quickly that half the bills had been stuffed in haphazardly, chooses this moment to pipe up.

“Using people is wrong, Keola; Abigail and Candice are your friends, you shouldn’t be using them just to make yourself popular,” she reprimands, to which Leo makes a stern noise of agreement. Lola, however, pauses, sitting on the table.

“Ma, if anything, they’re using me; I’m the reason they both won Prom Queen. I wanted to see if business management was something I’d want to do, and it turns out; yes, and I’m good at it. My two-year plan paid off,” she said simply.

“Two year plan?” Irene asked, baffled, and Lola, two months shy of eighteen, crossed her legs and beckoned her parents over.

It takes some explaining, from the fact that when she realised she might want to do business, that she might want to do business managing, and that she’d been thinking about how Leo had told her she could do work without anyone else realising that it was because of her if she wanted to. So she gave herself a challenge; work with the people she knew, to eventually help the business she cared about, the diner. Of course, this asks more questions than it answers.

So Lola explains that she’d switched Candice onto the shifts she works best in to keep her happy, and spent time getting to know her and being kind and building her confidence until she could casually bring up the idea of Prom, and how Candice would kick ass as Prom Queen, and that she had a shot at it, and that Candice would believe her and follow through, and more importantly, let Lola be her campaign manager. Lola knew how people worked, knew what certain people needed to hear, who to interact with to create the most wave, how to market an individual.

“Also, the scheduling thing wasn’t an accident; Candy and Abby love their jobs, and love this place - which is really a testament to both of you - and love me and the fact that I won them Prom Queen; if I tell them I can’t go to Prom and they win, even if I told them I don’t mind not being there, they’d still kind of feel guilty, and I figured they’d want to come and, I dunno, thank me and show off the crown. They love it here and love you guys, like I said, and it’s something to be proud of,” Lola shrugs, wrinkling her nose a little as she looks at her hands, “but, yanno, one night on it’s own doesn’t make a tradition, so I rinsed and repeated with Abby. Now two years in a row, the Prom Queen has come from here, and after the Prom they’ve come here and had incredible food; the people becoming Juniors and Seniors, the top contenders for Prom Court, remember coming here and having a great time after Prom two years in a row. I’m kind of working towards it being a tradition, it was my two year plan; turn one of the slowest Fridays of the year into one of the busiest.”

“While I’m very grateful you were thinking of us,” Leo says slowly, trying to process all the information he’d just received, “you shouldn’t manipulate your entire high school -”

“Twice,” Irene softly reminded him.

“ - twice, just to help the family business.” Leo had his head in his hands.

“No-one was hurt,” Lola added, “and, bonus, I know there’s already a few kind of superstitious Sophomores who will be coming in and asking for job applications soon,” she paused, “not that we need the help, but raises the diner’s profile a little, don’t you think?”

“You know the diner’s doing fine, we’re not struggling, sweetheart,” Irene still sounded like she couldn’t quite believe all of this.

“I know,” Lola’s voice was quiet, and finally her parents looked at her, saw her looking at her hands where she was fiddling, quiet and pensive.

“Then why, Lola?” Leo asked, finally, and she shrugged, a little helpless, as if she hadn’t spent the past two years carefully manipulating her friends, colleges, and peers, simply to increase business at the diner for two nights, one year apart, hoping it would become tradition going forward.

“I wanted to see if I could.”

Looking at their daughter, Irene and Leo see themselves in how she came to be like this; Leo’s got more love in his body than almost any other human, he’s personable and kind and hard working, while Irene’s smart, driven, and ruthlessly pragmatic. Their differences complimented each other, it’s why they worked so well together in all aspects of their life, and to see how well those traits worked within their daughter, they were certainly proud, but Irene quietly suspects that Leo may have been right.

If Lola didn’t become one of the best managers in her field, she’d end up a super villain... Irene’s actually kind of proud, and honestly, so’s Leo.

----

Going to college for Business Management seems like the most logical thing in the world for Lola to do next, and of course her parents would be happy to pay any costs associated, but it’s still nice to discover she’d received a scholarship, thanks to the glowing reports from several of her teachers, whose subjects she made sure to do well in as they would look good when applying specifically to be a business major.

Leo’s the one who drives with her and her things to her new college housing in New York, to her dorm, who meets her roommate and dorm mother, who hugs her for a full minute in the carpark before he leaves. They’re both pretending like they don’t have tears in their eyes.

Lola’s babbling away, reminding him about how he should start advertising the Prom-related discounts for the diner three weeks before the Prom itself, how he should have his employees who are students put up posters around the school, or at least he should put up posters around the school, and the places where teenagers hang out. She’s reminding him which of their employees work best in different circumstances, and why Belinda can’t work with Judas for more than two hours and -

She’s crying, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands as she talks, until Leo takes her shoulders firmly, and her voice dies in her throat as she comes back to reality.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he says softly, tears shining in his eyes. Lola’s lip quivers at this, and she surges forwards, wrapping him in another hug as she cries.

“You’re going to be amazing, we’re always just a phone call away, my sweet girl, but I know you’re going to take the world by storm,” Leo mutters into her hair, holding her tightly.

“Be good. Be kind. I love you,” he tells her as they finally step back from each other, and Lola wipes at her eyes again, quiet this time, nodding adamantly, before telling him she loves him too, that she’s so grateful for him, that -

“Come on, dude,” Leo says softly, with a gentle smile, “be cool.” And hearing the words that, for so long, had come to mean ‘I love you, I feel the same, but you need to be strong’, since Lola had first said it back when they’d first seen KISS together, has Lola laughing with fond adoration.

None of the other Freshman moving in, saying goodbye to their parents, appear to be half as emotional as she was, but honestly, she didn’t really care.

----

“Hey, question;” Lola’s voice is hesitant over the phone when Irene picks up one quiet evening in the diner at the end of Spring, at the end of Lola’s second year of college, “would you or dad know how to get in contact with that guy who manages KISS? The old regular? Bill?”

“Why?” Irene asked slowly, a little concerned given how much she and Leo had omitted when they talked about him to Lola when she was younger.

“I wanted to see if he needed an intern for the summer.”

It makes sense, but the prospect still makes Irene nervous.

----

“Leo I’m home~” Bill practically sings as he throws the door open to the diner on a bustling Monday afternoon. The server at the door skitters back in the face of his enthusiasm, and as a few mean-looking individuals slink into the diner behind him. Through them all, however, is Lola, who doesn’t even announce her presence, just slips past Bill, darting through the diner and through the kitchen, so by the time Leo’s looks their way, he’s already being bowled over with a hug.

It was a surprise, and Leo’s yelling he’s so excited. KISS is halfway through their tour, playing Providence the following two nights, but Lola and Bill had dragged the band along to surprise Leo while they were close.

Leo’s babbling away as Lola ties up her hair without even having to ask, stepping up beside him and falling into the routine of helping him prepare food. Bill and the band have taken up residence in a booth, chattering amongst themselves, while Lola and her father work and catch up.

“Wait, Lola, sweetie, go sit, go sit,” Leo insisted, catching himself before he lost sight of the whole situation, “I’m not paying you, go sit with the band; you’re customer -”

“Dad -” Lola tried to protest, but Leo was adamant, nudging her out of the kitchen with determination. As they pass the counter, Leo grabs a note book, and gives the confused server a kind smile, following Lola to the band.

“Vito, what do you recco...” Ace asks glancing up from the menu, but he trails off, seeing her father practically shadowing her.

“You guys remember Leo, right?” Bill looked like he was trying not to laugh as he shoved Peter further into the booth to make room for Lola. The others were all, for what seemed like the first moment on tour, silent. Then, Gene speaks.

“If you’re sick of our fuckin’ shit, Bill, murder us yourself, like a real man,” he says, voice gruff, and Lola has to fight not to smile in the face of her father’s bemusement.

“No-one’s getting murdered; Leo’s has the best food this side of the country, right, Vito?” Bill asks easily, looking to her, and she can feel her father’s questioning gaze on her too, so she looks to the others, smile blinding.

“I know I might seem biased, but I swear I’m not,” she fans her fingers out on the table, leaning forward, eyes shining with sudden enthusiasm, “I know you guys have a weird history with my dad, I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t worth it.” She assures, and slowly but surely, the others look at the menu; her dad’s still watching her carefully, even as she’s sitting back, confidently telling the others that whatever they order would be good.

“Was it you or ‘rene who loved The Godfather?” Bill pipes up, addressing Leo, and Lola, in her seat, goes still.

“It’s ‘rene’s favourite movie,” Leo says with a slowly forming smile, as Lola chances a look up at him. When she sees the amused, even proud look in his eyes, she gives a small smile back.

“Is mom around?” Lola asks, gaze quickly darting to the counter and the kitchen, and then to the nondescript door that led to the second floor where she her family had lived all her life.

“At the grocery store, we ran out of whipping cream,” Leo explains, smile growing wider as he lets himself bask in the moment, “menu hasn’t changed much in the last few months, what are you hungry for, Vito?”

Of course Lola’s right about the food, of course, and the band chatters amongst themselves, and to Leo easily enough, though when Irene gets back, for all that she’s thrilled to see her daughter, she’s less than thrilled to see KISS being obnoxious in one of her booths.

Pulling Lola aside, she speaks quietly, glad to see her, demanding to know if the band treats her with respect, scowling when Lola casually rolls her eyes and says the band doesn’t treat anything with respect.

“But I still live by what you said the first time I saw them,” she added, and Irene frowned, “don’t let ‘em touch me, don’t shake their hands.” And Irene gives a faint smile at that. After a moment, Leo’s warm, booming laughter fills the restaurant, and both women turn to see him throwing his head back, eyes creasing in the corner as the rest of the band seem pleased to have made him laugh.

“They’re gonna give you and dad all access passes to their Wednesday show,” Lola says softly, watching the band, watching her dad sit in the seat she’d vacated.

“Oh, that’s so nice, but you didn’t have to -”

“I didn’t ask them to,” Lola tells her frankly, “they’ve been acting like my dad is some violent asshole whenever I bring him up because he was super protective when they met him the first time, even though they know I love him, so I brought them here, and knew dad was too kind of a person, and too good of a chef, to not win them over. They also definitely didn’t believe me when I said how good his food was, even when Bill backed me up. They’re not exactly introspective people, so when they offer the tickets, they won’t realise it’s because they feel guilty for making me upset whenever I bring up dad, but still, they’re trying to make up for it without realising what they’re doing; they think they’re just being kind to a new friend and a cool dude, without thinking about why giving these tickets feels better than it usually does. Friends are made, you guys get cool tickets, everybody wins,” Lola’s still watching the band joke around with her dad and Bill, and she lets herself smile a little, even as her mother is quietly watching her.

“They aren’t my friends this time, mom, this is business, and if they didn’t want to feel guilty for shittalking a good man, then they shouldn’t have shittalked a good man,” and though her mother says her name with a faintly disapproving tone, Lola’s lips thinned with annoyance, “if you disapproved of me doing this shit, you wouldn’t have told Bill about the Prom scheme I pulled in high school.”

Then Irene says her name again, like an apology, like regret, like she was aware of her betrayal.

“On the plus side,” Lola took a deep breath, grinning and finally looking to her mother, “I’ve already kind of got a reputation; Bill called me Vito the first day I came in, which is how I figured out you’d told him, and someone misheard and thought it was my name. It stuck.”

“They’re calling you Vito?” Her mother said softly, earlier disapproval vanishing with soft glee, “for the record, I said that while I don’t condone some of what you did, I admired your tenacity, perseverance, and finely tuned social awareness.” Okay, that made sense, and something warmed in Lola’s heart hearing that.

“Well thanks to that, I think they’re implying that I’m The Godfather,” Lola snorts, looking back at the table, “well, Bill was, the others don’t actually believe it, but they still use the nickname.”

“You don’t want them to know that that’s... your goal, do you?” Irene said, wrapping an arm around Lola’s shoulders. Lola rests her head against her mother’s.

“I’ll only use my powers for good... usually.”

“I know, sweet girl, you’ve got a good heart.”

----

“I’ve got my own desk! I’ve got my own office!” Lola’s all but squealing over the phone to her parents, explaining about how she’d been offered a job with Bill’s company as a PR consultant while she insisted on staying in New York and finishing her degree.

She’s living with her music-producer boyfriend, spending every other weekend at industry events, spending nights in dingy bars that boasted live music as if she were scouting talent, attempting to study during the day while putting out various bands’ fires from afar.

“That’s wonderful, Lola,” her dad gives a contented little sigh where he and Irene are pressed together, both trying to listen to her speak.

“You’re still studying hard though, aren’t you? I’m glad you’re doing well but you know you’d regret it if you didn’t finish your course so close to the end,” Irene pointed out, and Lola assures her that she’s still going ahead strong, that the company gives her half-days when she has lectures to attend, and she sounds... fulfilled.

They’re still calling her Vito; she’s garnered herself something of a reputation in the months leading up to her graduation, and anticipated full-time employment with the company. People from all sides are urging her to move out to LA, but she’s refusing to budge until she graduates, and for that her parents are proud.

Back home, there’s been a strange influx of out-of-town patrons to the diner, music fans, or bands, or part of the industry, usually New York based, saying that Lola had recommended this place, if they were ever in the area. It was heart-warming to think she still thought of her parents so often that she’d still go about recommending their diner. They don’t think much beyond it; she’d been true to her word and only seemed to be using her way with people in professional matters.

But still, it was jarring hearing ‘the Godfather sent me’ when chatting with customers, even moreso to know they meant Lola every time.

----

“One of Bill’s friends in LA called me up about a job,” Lola’s fretting in her parent’s diner for the first time in a long time. A year out of college, she’s been on the road essentially since graduation, working as an assistant manager, for Bill for some time, then for Kenny Laguna with Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, and a few smaller bands around New York as a manager in her own right, though by virtue of her role as an assistant, she’d been working with everyone in the industry that he usually had dealings with, setting up meetings, organising schedules for the band, setting everything up so all her bosses had to do was sign off and only worry about the bands themselves.

Lola had her fair share of flings in that time, but it was hard when she was always travelling, and even with the people who she seemed somewhat serious about, she never brought them home to meet her family. Her parents tried to reason that she was just young, that if she wanted to find love, she’d find it in time, but thankfully she seemed more concerned with her career than ever dwelling on heartbreak.

“That’s exciting; would we know the band?” Irene asked, printing off a receipt for a customer and wishing them a good day. The customer smiled back, and went on their way, and Irene joined her daughter, stealing one of Lola’s fries.

“Not really, they’re a little metal, kinda punk band, Motley Crue, but Doc - that’s Bill’s friend - he thinks they have potential, and he thinks I’d be the right person to help him, and help them.”

“As an assistant?” Irene asked, frown creasing her brow, and Lola makes a face.

“As co-manager,” she said, clearly in two minds about the situation.

“Co-manager?” Her mother prompted, and Lola wrinkled her nose for a moment, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’ve been on tour, all over America, right? But I’ve never...” she hesitates, “actually ever lived more than two hours away from you guys.” Lola fidgeted, “which I know is a dumb reason to not move, I’m an adult, and everyone’s pushing me to move to LA, so even if it falls through I’ll probably still get work, but -”

“Sweet girl, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, you don’t have to explain yourself, not to me, not to anyone,” her mother says, reaching out to rest a hand on Lola’s cheek. For just a moment, Lola leans into her mother’s hand, taking the familiar comfort and basking in it, letting out a gentle sigh.

“They’re flying me out in two days to meet the band, and I can decide where to go from there,” she says softly, and Irene gives her a fond pet, assuring her that nothing is set in stone.

----

“Do you remember when I did that thing in high school, that whole thing with those girls, Abigail and... Candice? I think? How I managed them and got them voted Prom Queen?”

“Lola I love you with my whole heart, but sweet girl, you had a whole supervillain monologue prepared that night, so yes, I remember,” Leo says to his daughter, the two of them in the kitchen of the diner the night before Lola’s set to leave for LA. They’ve closed up for the night, and Irene went upstairs to their little home above the diner to relax for the night while Lola stayed, and Leo refilled the salt shakers. The corner of Lola’s lips quirk into a faint smile where she’s leaning her hip against the counter a few feet away.

“I still can’t believe no-one caught on; only you and mom had any idea, or even still know,” Lola admitted with a faint laugh, and Leo assures her that he’ll take that secret to his grave, his tone amused at how he was overstating the importance of the secret. Lola considers for a moment, shifting her weight on her feet before asking, “do you remember, even before that, saying about how I understood people the way you understood flavours, the way mom understood numbers?”

“Vaguely,” Leo’s voice was concentrated as he reflected on his daughter’s teen years in the diner. Lola made a faint hum at that.

“Do you think there’s ever going to be anyone other than you and mom who understands me?”

It hits Leo like a truck, the tone, the rawness to her voice, the way so much had suddenly clicked into place with understanding.

Lola was who she was because she was listened to, because Leo and Irene had worked to make sure she felt understood, showing by example as they befriended their customers, the people around them too, to build a kind, family atmosphere in their business too. So too did Lola, going through life listening to people, getting to know them, understanding them, understanding more and more as she went that while people loved feeling understood, feeling seen, they very rarely put in the effort to understand others in such a way, even people who were putting the effort into them.

“Oh Keola,” Leo’s voice comes out an apologetic breath as he puts down the salt shaker he’d been working with, and at that, he can see the tears spring up in Lola’s eyes. Without hesitation, he’s crossing to her, wrapping her up in a firm hug, “you will find someone who sees you, Keola, who understands you, and maybe they won’t understand the world as well as you do, but it won’t matter, because they’ll understand you.”

Lola, who’s hugging him back tightly, fingers digging into him as she’s shaking, crying, scared to leave, scared to be truly on her own. It’s breaking Leo’s heart to see her like this, to not know what to say or how to comfort her in the right way, so he holds his daughter close, and reassures her, and she gives a quiet thanks, muffled against his shirt.

----

“They live like horrible, little, drunk rats and I hate them,” Lola tells her mother flatly over the phone from the hotel Doc McGhee’s company had put her up in for the week.

Doc she liked well enough, she’d been to events with him, gotten to know him, and spoken extensively to him after he’d called her to ask if she’d co-manage Motley Crue with him; he’d called her up because the band had talent and potential, but he could see that if they weren’t managed properly, they would end up as their own worst enemy, with the whole world loathing them. Some controversy was healthy, but it felt as though this band could be capable of worse.

He’d called asking for Vito, for the Godfather specifically, and despite Lola’s apparent lack of experience in the industry, he knew what he was doing when he called her.

The day after she’d flown out, she’d had a meeting with Doc before he’d brought the band in. She’d worn all black, well fitted and perfectly tailored suit, with black shirt to match, hair perfectly straight and makeup dark but clean. She’d looked the part, had stood beside Doc as the band was brought in, her hands clasped behind her back, not sure what she was expecting to see. The band had been dressed down for the most-part, all in varying dark colours, all denim and hints of leather, and boots that made them a little too tall for her liking. She’d held out her hand across the desk, expression stony, and as they’d all shook her hands, they’d looked her over, and while some were leering, one, who looked to be the oldest of the group, Mick, seemed unimpressed.

“That’s a child,” he had said, and Lola had blinked slowly at him, allowing Doc to make the introductions.

“That is Vito Fields;” Doc corrects, tone firm, and Mick, upon hearing this, looks to her very suddenly. Lola raises a single eyebrow at him as Doc keeps talking, “she’s worked with KISS and Joan Jett; anyone in this industry who knows of Vito knows you want her in your corner, you boys are lucky she’s considering working with you.”

“She seems like a bitch,” the one in the middle, Nikki, pipes up, his pupils wide and shiny, a dead giveaway that he’s high, and he’s smirking at her like he’s waiting for a reaction.

“I am a bitch,” Lola tells him flatly, looking him dead in the eyes, while the younger two on his other side, one dark haired, Tommy, and one blonde, Vince, startled by her response, break out into giggles.

“You’re Magic Touch Vito?” Mick asks, voice having taken on a strange quality she couldn’t quite identify, though her lips quirk into the barest smile, even as the other three clutch at each other, trying to muffle their laughs at their own dirty-minded implications.

“The very same,” Lola gave a slight nod, and suddenly, there was something impressed in Mick’s eyes. After touring with them, KISS had kindly written a song entitled Magic Touch, about Lola, which as the line ‘she's got the magic touch / oh no, but it ain't what it seems’ implied, wasn’t sexual in nature. In actual fact, it was about how they hadn’t realised how much she’d worked to make their lives run smoothly, to keep them from any serious controversy, how they’d seemingly worked more cohesively and agreeably when she had been around, until she was gone. When asked who it was about, the band would always answer ‘the chick from our management team last tour, Vito’.

They don’t quite know what to make of her, think she’s too uptight, too serious, and they invite her to their gig the following night, in an attempt to see if she could loosen up, fit in, and Lola accepts easily, knowing she has Mick on her side, and that the other three should be easy enough to win over, if what she knows of them is correct.

So she dresses up for the show, clothes tight and dark and revealing, boots high and hair higher, makeup dark and smoky and eye catching; if nothing else, she looks the part. She sits by the bar, nurses a single beer all night, and at least Doc wasn’t kidding about their talent; small miracles, she supposes. They’re loud and energetic and everything about rock and roll that she has come to love, but once the gig is over, they’re messy, spilling off the stage after their gear is packed up, easily distracted by pretty girls and promises of booze. Mick is the first to the bar, and seems surprised to see her dressed the way she is, fitting in so easily, and she gives him a smile, a nod, a raised glass of appreciation, before someone stumbles from the crowd and almost runs straight into her, bracing themselves on the bar either side of her, sweaty and panting and grinning and babbling apologies - Tommy, if her memory serves her well.

“Hey, Doc was right, you guys play well,” she tells him amicably, tone much sweeter and more animated than he’d heard yesterday, so it takes him a few moments to place where he knows her from before it dawns on him. And he’s drunk and tactile, his hands on her arms, her thighs, her face, as if making sure she was real, and she was the same girl from yesterday.

“Vito?” Tommy asks, still only inches from her where he’d almost bowled into her. Lola, seemingly unphased by the proximity, smile and confirms as much, her hand coming to rest on his where he was braced against her thigh, gentle contact, nothing more.

And he’s telling her she’d gotta come back to the after party, at the Motley House as he called it, and he turned, wanting to call the others over, still with his hand on her thigh, but they’re lost in their own various states of debauchery. Lola buys him a few shots for good measure, which he’s grateful for, and lets him loop his arm around her shoulders as they head back to the Motley House with the crowd.

Another pretty girl, however, calls Tommy away with promises Lola definitely won’t make, so he goes, and Lola follows the crowd back to the house with the door nailed shut. Her fishnets catch on something as she’s climbing through the window and they rip, and a guy hoots appreciate from inside the house, but she’s not bothered by him as much as she is by the house itself as she takes in the scene.

“No shame in admitting you can’t hack it,” a voice in her ear mutters, accompanied by a hand on her hip, and for a moment Lola’s composure breaks as she’s startled, turning sharply to see Nikki Sixx, standing over her in his platform boots and stupidly tall hair, wearing a grin that’s all teeth. Lola doesn’t know enough about Nikki to read him, to understand him, apart from the fact that she recognises that he’d putting up something of a front, and had been both times he’d spoken to her.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” tone cool as she finds herself quoting Star Wars with a smirk, she looks Nikki in the eyes, and is glad to see the momentary flicker of confusion as she refuses to back down despite his goading. Then, she looks over her shoulder, “you live like rats, but that’s not necessarily a complaint since it fits with your brand.” And he doesn’t seem to know if that’s a compliment or an insult, but he’s left bemused by the encounter, as Lola heads through to the kitchen, avoiding making eye contact with Vince who’s getting head from a groupie on the counter, as she takes a beer from their fridge and goes to mill about in the main room.

Lola’s never been much of a drinker; Irene’s been sober since she was pregnant with Lola, and Leo only ever drank socially outside of work, and he didn’t exactly have a lot of social encounters outside of work to begin with. Lola herself was never particularly discouraged from drinking as long as she took care of herself, and sure she had some wild nights in college, but despite her field of work, she preferred to keep drinking to a minimum. Drinking dulled her senses, and she didn’t want the people she was working with to see her as anything less than what she wanted to show them.

She’d be the first to admit that she had issues with control, both of herself and other people, but it was yet to detrimentally effect her life, or the people around her, so she found it to be more of a strength than a flaw, at least for now.

All through the night she found herself talking to fans and groupies, talking up the band, the boys, putting on a bubbly persona, perhaps overplaying her own inebriation after only two drinks, giggling and making a spot for herself amongst their groupies. She declined the drugs as they were passed around, keeping her mind clear as she was able, while not being a buzzkill, pouting and making up excuses about a drug test at her work the next morning, how she’d only just gotten the coke out of her system and she couldn’t fail another one -

Everyone was so understanding of her fake sob story, she almost misses Mick, sitting a few feet away on the arm of the sofa, laughing to himself, watching her.

“You’re good, girlie, you’re good,” he gives her when she approaches, and Lola raises an eyebrow at him, still smiling, “you planning on outright fuckin’ our frontman, or you gonna tease him like you did the drummer?”

“If I have to fuck him, I’ll fuck him,” Lola shrugs with a smirk, joining him and looking out at the gathered crowd, “but I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

So the next day when she calls her mother, tells her mother that the band lives like rats and that she hates them, she immediately follows it up with ‘but I think I’m going to stay’.

----

Be sweet to Tommy. Be honest with Mick. Keep Vince’s revolving door of girlfriends from seeing him hook up with groupies. That’s the trick to keeping three quarters of the band happy.

Nikki changes from moment to moment it seems. He’s a hard worker musically, but a loose canon in the rest of his life, and he never seems to be sure of what to make of Lola, so she can never be sure of what to make of him.

She still lives loosely by her mother’s suggestion, to never let them touch her, which means she’s never done anything more than let the three younger ones cop a feel occasionally, or kiss them on the cheek, but she’s never let them get further than that, she doesn’t need to. She’s kind to them, good to them, she compliments their music and their work ethic when they’re working particularly hard. She remembers the names of the hookers they like when Zutaut brings them in, and she gets on well with the rest of their team. Their scandals are kept out of the papers, and when they release Too Fast For Love there’s buzz in the industry from the moment it drops.

“I know a guy,” is all Lola says when they ask, when in reality she spends nights that she’s not with the band going to VIP events for music executives, rubbing elbows and kissing ass and casually talking up the band within earshot of the bigwigs. Her free time in the day is spent reading tabloids and listening to the bands being managed by the people she meets, and making friends with club owners up and down The Strip who she’d met before, through KISS or Joan Jett.

“Sweet baby Vito,” Doug Weston kissed Lola on both cheeks as she walked through the doors of the Troubadour one sunny afternoon, the day the band was set to perform, “it’s been too long; have you gotten taller?” Doug smiles from ear to ear, holding her shoulders and looking her over as the band, behind her, seems bemused, “how are my boys, Bill and Kenny? You hear from them much anymore?”

“Dad tells me Bill is good -” Lola assures with a smile, before looking over her shoulder, “boys if you wanna start setting up you can go ahead, right Doug?” She grins at the club owner, who nods, gesturing to the stage for Motley and their roadie to go ahead as he takes Lola and leads her to the bar.

Lola seems to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the bands who have come through the Troubadour before they’d made it big, praising Doug on his foresight, assuring him that Motley would be one of the names on that list he helped grow in popularity. He asks her how she knows so much, how she remembers so well; simply put, Lola tells him it’s her job.

For a moment, Doug is quiet, looking at her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of insincerity or doubt, and upon finding none, he gives a strange little smile.

“You know what they say about me, little Vito, don’t you?”

Lola hesitates, because of course she knows, and him so pointedly using her nickname only makes clearer his meaning.

“You’re essentially the Godfather around here, Doug, I know that, I wasn’t trying to -”

“You’re putting the work in; I’ve heard your name time and again now from my friends and colleagues, you’re working with one band but the whole Strip knows you, kiddo,” he’s giving her a fond, perhaps even impressed look, “little Vito, you’re so young, but I can already see you growing into your title.”

And pride swells in Lola’s chest as she hears this.

A week later, a tabloid article will be released with an article on Motley Crue’s quick rise in sucess, with a quote from Doug himself.

“How could I say no to having them play here? Those boys have got more talent in one hand than any do in their whole bodies, not to mention they’ve got Doc and The Godfather behind them; mark my words there’s success on their horizon.”

“Lola!” Leo had shouted excitedly through the phone the moment she’d picked up, and Lola had laughed nervously, unsure of the exactly reason for his call. Leo had babbled about seeing the article, how he’d pinned it up on the wall of the diner, right next to the photos of KISS, and Joan Jett that had been taken when they’d visited. He goes on in delight about how he and Irene were so proud; Lola couldn’t help but tear up.

“Doug Weston called you The Godfather, Lola!”

“I know, dad,” Lola had laughed a little, and Leo had whistled through his teeth, low and proud.

“What did I tell you, kiddo, already taking the world by storm.”

----

“You know how I was... I was like having trouble with Nikki? Like I could figure him out?” Lola brings up over the phone to her father, a few month into being in LA.

“Nikki’s the asshole one?”

“The asshole one, the one you’d like,” Lola clarifies and confirms, and Leo makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat, “I think... I think I’ve figured him out, I think I got him.”

“How so?”

“He, um,” Lola hesitates for a moment, shifting a little where she was sitting on her bed, “he’s actually kind of like me, which I think tripped me up, not like, as refined or anything, or as invested in people, but,” she can’t help but softly smile, “he just wants to be seen, you know, as a musician, as himself, except that things have been shitty for him so he’s actually scared to feel seen, you know?”

“So are you going to make him feel seen, or would that scare him?” Leo asks, and Lola tells him that she’s going to be careful, like she’s always been.

She’s already started; a few days before, she’d turned up to the studio only for a beleaguered assistant to nervously warn her that Nikki had been in there all night, drinking, snorting, and writing music frantically.

“Sixx?” Her voice had been quiet, and he’d looked up with wild, tired eyes, levelling a pen at her through the glass into the sound booth where she’d entered.

“You!”

“Me?” She gave a slight smile, despite how there was paper and broken glass everywhere, and one of his hands was bleeding.

“You!” He’d reiterated with a scowl, though Lola kept her approach slow, opening the door to the recording studio, carefully picking her way over to him, while he continued to point at her.

“What are you writing?” She asks carefully, and finally he looks down, to the page with it’s bloody fingerprints, and messy scribblings.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, and she’s wondering if he’s talking to the page before he looks back at her, confused and hostile as he regards her. Lola’s expression falls.

“Right now? I want you to come to the bathroom so I can clean you up and get you some medical attention -”

“You want something you always want something, you know too much about everyone we meet, everywhere we play, every photographer who shoots us, every writer who writes about us, every interviewer we speak to,” he sounds half-mad, but Lola’s blood has run cold, “it’s like the more you know about everyone, about us, you can predict us, can plan for if we go rogue, how you can lasso us back in line like we’re your cattle; you’re The Godfather but you never explained to us what that means.”

Lola swallows hard, steeling herself for a moment before she looks Nikki in the eyes.

“What do you want from music?” She’s dropped the kindly voice, “you understand it, you understand how to make it sound good, how to make something people will like and want to listen to, and you know what to do to keep it from being a disaster because you know the note before, and what notes should go after,” she explained, and in the face of her cool composure, Nikki’s hostility was actually... disappearing. “To me, people are their own kind of music when organised well enough, when I know where they’ve been, so I know how to keep them out of disaster, which topics not to talk about, to know what’s worked to bring things to their attention in the past, so I can use those for you guys in the future.”

Nikki is quiet, looking up at where she’s standing over him, and then at the paper in his hands.

“You’re organising us to... to what?”

“To optimise productivity,” Lola said bluntly, “which is hard, considering who you all are, but I’m glad Doc called me in. I feed your egos in the way you all respond to best, and keep you all from self destructing, and I pull you assholes from the gutter, and you get a successful album. I’m not hurting anyone, it’s my job to make you successful.”

She’s got her hands behind her back to hide how they’re shaking; she’s never been so bluntly honest with anyone since she’d explained her Prom Plan to her parents years ago.

“You won’t remember this,” she tells him, and he looks sharply at her, though she’s saying it more for her own peace of mind than for him. She offers her hand to him, and he quietly takes it, lets her take him to the bathroom and clean him up. She calls the Motley House, and Mick, and Doc, and lets them know that Nikki wouldn’t be in today, and she takes him back to her little apartment a few blocks from the Strip.

“This is tiny,” Nikki comments, his first since Lola’s monologue about her true intentions.

“I’m frugal,” Lola responded, flatly, showing him through to her bathroom, advising him to shower or bathe, though he made a face at that.

“Why am I here?”

“Because I have actual toilet paper and I didn’t want your hands to contract sepsis,” she responds with irritation, but soon enough, as she’s reading through the stack of tabloids that she has delivered daily, she hears the shower being turned on.

After an hour, she realises something may be wrong, as she hasn’t heard him moving about in there for a while, and when she knocks there’s no answer, and cracking the door reveals that he’s fallen asleep sitting at the bottom of her shower. Sighing deeply, Lola turns off the water, tries to wake him, and gets a sleepy, groaned response, which at the very least means she doesn’t need to call a paramedic. So she dries him off, and wraps him up in her bathrobe, and deposits him in her bed, while she listens to the radio and takes notes while reading the tabloids.

“Vito?” Nikki’s bleary voice greets her around sunset, and Lola, who’d been painting her nails and humming along to a cassette of the latest Queen album, looks up sharply at him. When their gazes meet, he regards her curiously before yawning, “I remember, you know?”

“Remember what?”

“What you said, how you use people because they’re like music,” he says, and grimaces when he tries to use his hands, only to see they’re bandaged. When he asks for a drink, Lola has to tell him she has nothing in the apartment, and he calls her a bitch under his breath, but that was to be expected.

“I don’t use people for fun, I... I...”

“There’s no sweet way to say it, is there?” He sits up with a groan, though he still manages to smirk, and Lola’s expression sours.

“Are you mad at me for manipulating people in the industry to make Motley Crue successful?” Her lip curled, tone derisive as an insult sat on the tip of her tongue, but Nikki paused.

“Are you trying to manipulate me by saying that?”

“What? No!” Lola had insisted, “everyone else thinks I’m the version of me that I want them to know, okay? But you... you’re the only motherfucker who knows I’m all of them at once, and also, well, none of them,” she admitted after a moment.

“Well how does me knowing that help you?”

“It doesn’t, okay?! I can’t figure you out, Nikki, I don’t know how the fuck to -”

“How the fuck to control me,” Nikki said, seemingly proud of that achievement.

“I don’t control you dumbasses, I keep you out of jail; if I wanted to control you, I’d try keeping you from hookers and drugs and falling asleep in gutters, I’d make you presentable for a mass-market audience, but none of you want that, so I’m trying to keep you alive and keep you productive while still being yourselves, get it?”

“You really want Motley to do well?” Nikki asks, tentatively, surprising Lola, who had her head in her hands.

“You fuckin’ dickbags have so much talent and absolutely no ability to function as human beings. Yes I want you to do well, I know you can, and I know you will, but dude, if you all go out in a firey ball of carnage, they’re not gonna blame you guys, because you’re the talent, live fast die young is what talent does, and they’re not gonna blame Doc,” her voice catches in her throat, and Nikki realises she’s on the verge of tears, “they’re gonna blame the twenty-three year old girl who everyone in the industry knows, and is calling The Godfather, who has a reputation despite only doing this shit for a few years -”

“Vito -”

“My name’s Lola!” She’d snapped, and Nikki had gone quiet. “You’re a talented musician, Nikki,” her voice had gone soft, and she gently thumped her forehead on the table, “you’re all talented men, I’m just doing the only thing I can do to get you the success you deserve, okay? I made a promise to never manipulate people for evil, and I don’t break my promises.”

After a long silence, Nikki finally spoke up, saying her name, her real name.

“Lola, thanks for taking care of me.”

----

“So this is Motley Crue,” Leo says the day Lola walks into the diner with the band and Doc, and Leo’s trying to reign in his instinct to be excited and proud and loud, trying to act discerning from behind the counter... Right as their Too Fast For Love album begins playing over the jukebox. The band seems confused, Lola hangs her head, and Leo’s lips immediately twist into an overjoyed grin, “that wasn’t planned but I love it!” He delights, and goes over to greet the band, giving each member a hearty handshake, managing to name each and every single one of them before they introduce themselves, which only serves to mortify Lola.

“You talk about us?” Tommy teases, while Lola’s standing by her father, face bright red.

“Drummer Boy, you’re killing me,” Lola groans, but takes her seat beside Nikki, and he throws an arm around her.

“Don’t worry, Leo, we’re taking care of her,” and he gives Lola’s shoulder a squeeze.

The thing is, Leo knows he can believe Nikki, knows because after a year, Lola’s told her parents practically everything about the band, every terrible, sordid detail, but also about their talent, and how they can be good people when they want to be. Leo and Irene have hear the change in the way Lola spoke about the band, heard Lola marvel at the way the band seemed to grow more protective of her after her breakdown in front of Nikki, how they defend her when they’re in their right mind, and at least attempt to listen to her some of the time. They’re still themselves, still far from perfect, but it’s become a known fact that The Godfather had the might of Motley Crue behind her now.

Mick and Leo got along well, of course Leo got along with all the band well, but he and Mick’s taste in music aligned, and there was a certain wisdom to the pair of them that eluded the others.

And when Lola hands tickets to the band’s show the following night to her mother, she assured her that it wasn’t their idea, it was all Lola’s. Irene wraps her in a tight hug, pride in her eyes, before she looks over at the band, louging in a booth like they own it while the diner was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago, and Leo’s still talking to them. It’s empty apart from the band, and Lola’s about to start washing up so her dad can keep getting to know the band, but her mother speaks quietly.

“They’re good boys,” she muses, and Lola snorts.

“They’re garbage boys, ma, pretty terrible, you know they fucked an eggroll so their girlfriends couldn’t tell they slept with other girls?”

“Oh I know they’re terrible - eggroll, really? -” Irene made a momentarily horrified face as Lola confirmed, but as a shiver of disgust passed down Irene’s spine, she continued, “but they’re good to you.”

And looking at them, Lola sees the band and Doc smiling and laughing and chatting with her dad, picking at the crumbs they had left of the food they’d been served, and for a moment, Nikki looks over and catches her gaze. He raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question; Lola gives the barest nod back, and he turns back to the conversation.

“They’re pretty good to me when they want to be,” Lola agreed.

----

“Lo, we wanted to run this past you first,” immediately hearing these words from her father, Lola’s stomach drops, “but you remember your Aunt Malia who lives back in Hawaii, right?” And as Lola confirmed as much, Leo went on, “her youngest, Kai, is going to come and live at the diner; he’s about your age and Malia says he’s wanted to be a chef for a long time. I thought he could come work with us, or maybe stay here if he wanted to study in the states.”

“Why do you need to run it past me?” Lola asked, voice quiet, though her heart eased considerably; the news had been much less dire than she had been anticipating.

“He’s going to be sleeping in your old room is all, I know you’ve moved everything out, but I didn’t want you to be surprised if you dropped in; when you stop by, we’ve converted the old study into a spare bedroom.”

“Okay,” Lola wasn’t quite sure why the news hurt so much, but it did, though she tried not to let her father hear as much, “as long as he does a good job, that’s all we can ask for, right?” And Leo seemed happy to hear as much.

But it had sent Lola spiralling; all her life she’d thought she’d end up running the diner when she got old enough, but now she was getting to be old enough, and living a completely different life.

“Would it make you happy?” When had coming to Nikki Sixx for life advice become a real option? They’re sitting in a round booth at a bar, both dressed casually, sitting side by side, probably closer than was necessary, though Lola liked the contact.

“Yes,” she admitted, “if I went home and ran the diner with mom and dad for the rest of my life, I’d honestly be happy.” She admitted.

“And us, the industry, everything you’ve been working for, you’d give it all up for them?” He asked, and Lola picked at the label on her beer bottle, stomach twisting with guilt.

“If they asked,” came her answer.

“Did they ask?”

Lola swallows hard, and realises with startling clarity that Nikki knows where her train of thought is headed.

“Does the life you have here make you happy?” He asks, tone demanding an honest answer, and Lola nods once, before his final question hits her squarely in the chest; “would they want you to give up this happiness you’ve built, the experiences you’re still yet to have, for them?”

He understands her.

“And if I asked, would you stay here and manage us?”

“What?” Lola’s voice came out soft and surprised as she looked to Nikki, her eyes wide, and a little misty with all the emotions and thoughts blurring together in her mind.

“If I get any sort of say or vote in this, I’d like to keep The Godfather on my team,” he muses, grin getting a little wider, tone a little more honest, “‘d like to keep you around, Lola.”

----

Kai vaults the counter the first time Lola walks into the diner after he arrives. It’s been a few months, Lola’s been overseas with the band, but she’s back, and had wanted to stop in home to see how he was going. They’d spoken often; he’s as kind and outgoing as her father, and seems just as enthusiastic about food, which is good. At first there had been jealousy, that he was there, while she couldn’t be, but her parents always assured her there was a place for her if she wanted it, if she wanted to come back.

But Nikki had been right, they wanted her to see the world, so long as she knew they’d always be there for her to come home to.

But it’s Summer, Saturday afternoon, and Kai looks up as the bell rings, spots Lola, and drops the napkin dispenser he’d been refilling, vaulting the counter to sweep her off her feet in a hug. He’s chattering away about how good it is to meet her, how people keep saying the Godfather sent them and how it’s weird knowing they mean her, about how a few more bands had come through, without Lola even, word of mouth having spread that this was the place to come to in Boston, and he gestures proudly to the wall of photographs, and how more had been added; Areosmith, the Pixies, Blondie.

“And you! You’re -” suddenly spotting the person who’d come in behind Lola, Kai’s eyes go wide and his words stop for a moment.

“Nikki Sixx, man, good to meet you,” Nikki grins brightly, “Kai, right?” And Kai nods, before blinking away his shock and nodding, shaking Nikki’s hand vigerously.

“Good to meet you, dude, lemme go get Aunty; Leo’s at the markets,” he says, and then he trots off, calling out to the kitchen staff where he was headed. The moment he’s disappeared up the stairs to the flat above, Lola leans into Nikki, huffing a laugh.

“God, he fits right in,” she muses fondly, and Nikki wraps an arm around her, himself trying to process Kai’s enthusiasm.

And Irene greets Nikki and Lola with warmth and excitement, the three of them sitting in a booth together while Kai goes through any changes to the menu, lighting up when Lola asks what he recommends. Nikki and Lola sit close as they chatter away, recounting stories to Irene about their travels, words flowing together like they were rehearsed; as Lola’s overcome with a fit of giggles recounting one of Nikki and Tommy’s stunts, Nikki wraps his arm around her, pulling her close as he seamlessly takes over the story, grinning from ear to ear. As Lola’s giggles subside, she looks back to her mother, and Nikki’s voice goes quiet as Lola takes back over telling the story, instinctually in sync, and oh, Irene realises fondly, they understand each other. Despite everything she’s heard about the band, about Nikki, she’s filled with an indescribably sense of calm knowing Nikki made Lola this happy, made her feel understood. She’d be here if he broke Lola’s heart, but until then, she’d be happy for them.

“Lola!” It’s Leo’s voice that interupts them, and instinctively Irene reminds him that he’s holding eggs, without even needing to look at him. When they all do, they see Kai handing Leo an empty, plastic fries basket for him to drop in surprise instead, and he does so, which makes Lola laugh, even though she’s tearing up at the sight of him.

Nikki relaxes his grip on her shoulders without her needing to ask, and she ran to Leo, jumping to wrap him in a koala hug as he anticipated as much, holding her tight.

“If you guys ever wanted her back here to stay, you know she’d be more than happy to do it, I don’t know how you guys did it, but she loves you more than anything else in the whole world,” Nikki says quietly to Irene, the pair of them watching Lola and Leo, still hugging, with Lola koala-ed onto her father, talking to each other.

“She’s lucky to have Leo,” Irene said softly, “and so am I,” she admits easily, with a smile, “we both just wanted to give her the world, and if that, for her, means taking over the diner, then she’ll always have a place here, but if she wants more than that, if for her the world is the world, we’ll do everything in our power to help her get it,” she paused, before her smile turns amused; the expression looks so much like Lola’s, “but I suspect she doesn’t need our help with that.”

“And Nikki,” Irene turns to him, to look him in the eyes, and he knows that she knows every terrible thing Lola knows about him, but the thing is, he trusts Lola, and Lola loves and trusts her parents more than anything in the world, so if she’s trusted them with his dirty laundry and they still treat him kindly, he knows he has nothing to fear, “as long as you love her and treat her well, you’ll have us in your corner too.”

----

In 2005, it seems as though everyone in the entertainment industry knows about Boston’s famous Lionheart Diner, renamed in the mid-90s to coincide with the official forming of Lionheart Talent Management in LA, a label that would develop a reputation for finding talented underground acts, and making them huge.

Over the years, it had become a tradition for touring rock groups to visit the diner, claiming The Godfather sent them, even if Lola had never interacted with the band. As time wore on, bands outside of the rock genre caught on to the tradition, and soon even those from film or television or even art had joined the tradition too.

The business was booming, it had become a spot for tourists to come take photos against the wall of famous band photos, and people would often stop by on the off chance that someone famous would be around. They’d invested in selling shirts, plain black with the Lionheart logo over the left breast, and the word ‘crew’ printed in all capitals in white across the back.

The heart of the business remained, with Leo, seventy-one and still spry, as Sous Chef, while Kai had stepped up as head chef. One of the benefits of being part-owned by a successful management company was that Irene was able to retire, as Lola’s in-house accountants took care of the diner’s finances, and her little sixty-nine year-old mother could spend her time relaxing, or playing with her grandchildren.

In 2005, Lola went home in anticipation of a letter she hoped her parents would be receiving, taking Nikki, their son, and her entire rolodex of industry contacts with her.

In 2005, Lola and her family are awoken by a legitimate yell sounding through the little flat above the diner; it’s Leo, he’s excited and nervous and panicking, and Lola’s rubbing sleep from her eyes as she finds him, alongside her mother, sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a pristine, off-white envelope.

“We should wait for Kai, we have to call him, we have to call him now,” Leo’s chattering away, already up, and when Lola sits at the table, Irene hands her the bulky envelope before she even has to ask.

The return address was the Michelin Offices in Paris.

Lola’s smile grows wider.

The kitchen is eerily silent, apart from Lola’s son Mal moving about the kitchen, making himself cereal, as all the adults wait quietly for Kai to arrive with his own wife and baby daughters.

“I heard they were... were coming to America, but I thought it was only New York,” Leo looked so much younger for his nervous excitement, and once Kai had sat down and realised what it was, Lola pushed the envelope towards her father.

With shaking hands, Leo opens the letter, he and Kai reading the congratulations that had been sent to them, the praise for their food, their plating, their atmosphere and service. Leo’s crying, his hand pressed to his mouth, he’s crying, and Lola can feel the tears in her eyes too.

“They gave us two stars,” he chokes out, pride in his voice, “two whole Michelin Stars, the only restaurant outside of New York,” he’s sniffling as he lets Kai take the letter, pulling the book from the package, thumbing through it, and bursting into tears, the book in a white-knuckled grip as a lifetime of work is finally granted the recognition it deserved.

“Two stars; excellent cooking, worth a detour,” Kai was crying too, his pride overwhelming him, and it seemed, all other at the table, aside from Nikki, and Kai’s wife Julia.

Lola spends the next week organising a party, calling everyone and anyone to invite them to Leo’s, promising her father the night off to celebrate, but he waved her off, so long as she would work by his side for the night. Of course she agreed.

It was a star-studded event, surprising the locals, with Lola calling her contacts who loved the restaurant, and Leo and Irene and Kai calling old regulars they wanted to celebrate with, everyone who heard the news was delighted, knew it was well earned, and cheered as Leo unveiled the new sign with the Michelin Stars on full display.

“Thirty years ago,” Lola makes a toast, and the room falls silent, all looking at her on this night of mirth and merry, on this night of celebrating Leo and Irene and their family and their staff, “I claimed that the Michelin Star Inspectors were classicist, bitch-ass jagweeds, who hadn’t given the diner a star because they couldn’t even be bothered making the detour it was worth,” and that got a laugh to rise from the crowd, while Leo’s surprised Lola remembers that, hell, he’s surprised he remembers that, “but they’ve finally come to America; they said they were coming to New York, but you know what- you know fucking what? They made the detour! Because they’d heard this place was worth it! They knew what my parents built, what everyone here still upholds, it’s world class, it’s excellent cooking, it’s worth the detour!” And a cheer rises from the crowd, just as the diner deserves.

But something about it sticks for Leo, something about it is familiar, perhaps it’s just the way Lola’s smiling, but he asks for a word with her, and she agrees easily. She’s not his little girl anymore, neither of them as young as they once were, but they sit on the back step of the diner, the door shut, the celebrations inside muffled.

After a long while, Leo looks to Lola and gives her a fond little smile.

“I’ve really raised a supervillain, haven’t I?” And Lola acts confused for all of two minutes before she gives up the ruse, grinning like she’d been caught red-handed.

“Hey, if this place didn’t deserve any Michelin Stars, it wouldn’t get any; I just wanted to get the word out there so people would know where to look,” she shrugged, and Leo threw an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How long were you planning this?”

“That day in the diner when we talked about my future, and I said this place deserved a Michelin Star,” she admitted, and Leo’s eyes went wide, realising just why she’d remembered that day so well during her speech.

“Your thirty year plan?”

“I didn’t know when they’d come to America, honestly I think you guys would have still had enough notoriety to warrant someone coming to check this place out fifteen years ago,” she mused, “but like I said, it’s because this is a good diner, dad, I only brought it to their attention.”

“Lola, this is you life -” he tried with concern, though Lola rested her head on his shoulder, cutting him off with reassurances.

“I love my job, I love the life that I have, and the people in it, and it just so happened that the thing that I’m good at and do professionally means I have some influence; I promised I’d only use my powers for good, and this is the good-est thing I could think of,” she ducks her head, to hide her teary eyes, so glad that finally her family, her father, got their deserved recognition.

“All for your lil’ old family,” Leo gave a watery chuckle, overwhelmed with pride.

“All for my lil’ old family,” Lola agreed, sniffling, and Leo pulled her into a tight hug, so Lola’s next words were muffled against his chest, “come on, dude, be cool.”

“You made the whole world love us because how much you love us, I will not be cool,” Leo held her tighter, and Lola laughed softly, wanting this moment to last forever if it could, “you were never a supervillain, sweet girl, you’ve always been my hero.”

#rtp #nikki sixx #nikki x lola #tommy lee #mick mars #Doc McGhee #vince neil #kiss band #the angry lizard writes

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kodzuken-pie · 4 years

Note

Hello ^^ do you think you can do a oneshot where the karasuni boys help Asahi get his crush’s favorite villager in Animal Crossing New Horizons? When he finally gives them the villager he just freezes and his crush goes “I’ll have to take you out on a date to thank you” or something like that, please and thank you! You can choose the villager but my fave is Merengue :)) If you don’t play/know the game though feel free to ignore this one!

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[ A/N : big upsetti cuz my draft got deleted so I had to redo the whole thing ;) Also if I did what I had originally planned it would have reached 5k words...Hope you like it shortcake anon! ]

Pairing: Asahi x reader

Warnings : none

Word count : 3262

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Meringue? Merengue.

——————————————————————————

It was the weekend where the team planned to get away and get some rest and for something else. You would be spending the weekend with the entire volleyball team including Kiyoko, Yachi and y/n. All of you would be staying under one roof and although everyone either had their own room and is sharing the room with someone, you couldn’t help but get flustered over the fact that y/n was there with you guys. This weekend’s purpose was to throw y/n a party for their birthday and to find something to do or to give them.

All of you arrived there Friday night so you hadn’t expected to interact with them as much. Everyone was relaxing in the living room after putting their thing in their respective rooms.

“Wah! I’m hungry!” Sugawara complained, stretching his arms and legs.

“We don’t really have food here though.” Ennoshita sighed.

“Why don’t we go out and look around?” Nishinoya was still energetic.

“Alright then! Does anyone need to change or anything before we go?” Daichi said, standing up.

Everyone looked at each other and said they didn’t need to. All of you went around the house to make sure nothing important was left behind. Daichi turned to everyone for last checks and then closed the door. The night air was cool and crisp, it was a bit welcoming due to the heat of the earlier weather.

“Asahi! Let’s walk together!” They say as they link their arm around yours.

“Oh. Ok.” You say and you instantly feel your heart beat faster.

“Shichigahama sure is pretty at night, don’t you think so?” They say cheerfully looking up at you.

“It sure does.” You smile back, nerves settling in.

All of a sudden Sugawara smacks your back making you turn to look at him, only to see him wink and give you a thumbs up. You turned your head so fast you swear it gave you whiplash. They laughed at the interaction which in turn made you laugh as well.

The night went was filled with an adventure and you were thankful that Kiyoko was able to get y/n to come with you. You were able to get to spend time with them, learning new things here and there. At one point one of you had mentioned the game animal crossing. Both of you were ecstatic about the game that if you could, both of you would’ve talked all night about it.You actually almost did but you told them to get to bed when you noticed they were getting sleepy.

“Good night Asahi.” They said sweetly and quietly.

“G-good night y/n.” Your heart was a mess at this point.

You woke up the next morning with a new found sense of confidence. You had no idea where it came from but you were going to use this chance to get a bit more closer to your crush. They had told you the night before about their favorite villager in the game. You grab your switch and hunt down the team.

“Good morning Asahi!” Their bright voice startled you.

“Oh y/n morning! I didn’t think you’d be up already. You were pretty tired last night.” You say as you recompose yourself, hiding the console behind your back. “Uhm I’m going to look for Suga now.” You add sneaking away.

They curiously watched you walk backwards and shrug, going back to their room. You then went to look for the team all around the house and told them to gather in your room. A few minutes later, all of you were in your room and everyone was awaiting your question.

“So uh. I need your guys’ help.” You ask looking at your hands.

“With y/n right?” Sugawara went straight to the point.

“I mean it’s kind of obvious.” Daichi says.

“Oh? I’LL GLADLY HELP ASAHI-SAN” Hinata beamed.

“Oi BOKE! Keep your voice down or they’ll hear us!” Kageyama yelled at Hinata.

“Shh shh ok ok. So, uhm yeah.” You shush them. “So there is this game called animal crossing and I want to help them get their favorite character.” You add

“Oooh” Hinata was in awe.

“Their favorite character is merengue.” You say.

“Meringue?” Kageyama asked, tilting his head.

You take your phone out and look for the said character and show it to the boys.

“Oh. Merengue..” Kageyama seemed to take a mental note.

“So…. How do we get this character?” Ennoshita spoke up.

“There’s actually a few ways to do that but the easiest way is to get her amiibo card” You explain and they all listened with intent. “An amiibo card is essentially used to summon a certain character that you want.” you add.

“So then all we have to do is find merengue’s amiibo card?” Sugawara asked, putting his hand on his chin.

“Doesn’t that mean we would have to buy it?” Ennoshita asked.

“Ah yeah, we do have to buy it.” You say as you look down again.

They instantly knew what you were thinking. You knew that maybe you were being bothersome but you also just wanted to give something special to the person you like. The boys looked at each other and one by one they started to laugh. Startled, you look up and find the boys giving you a bright smile. Everyone teased you and made you smile, cheering for you.

“We have your back always Asahi-san!” Nishinoya beamed.

“T-thanks guys…” You let out a sigh and visibly relaxed.

“Now, we just have to look for that character's amino card, right?” Kageyama asked, typing on his phone.

“Found it.” Kinnoshita interjects, making everyone look at him. “What?” He says as he looks up from his phone.

“How did you find it so fast?” Narita asked, amazed.

“Oh well. I started looking around when Asahi-san said animal crossing amiibo card for merengue.” Kinnoshita answered while everybody looked at him in shock and amazement. “I found three sellers here in Shichigahama but it’s not a guarantee.” Kinnoshita adds.

“That’s a really good idea.” Daichi expectantly looked at Kinnoshita, feeling a little proud.

“Then that settles it! We’re going to go each and every seller and I’m hoping that they are different from each other!” You exclaimed. “If they are then I will buy them all!” You smiled widely.

You and the boys gather yourselves and make up an excuse to go out without the girls. The group split into three to make the search easier. The first group consisted of the third years including Kinnoshita, the second group consisted of the rest of the second years a.d the last group consisted of the first years. The first seller was the closest, it was also the location where the first years were sent.

*no luck here* Tsukishima texted you and you started to get nervous.

*Thanks Tsukishima!* You replied, staring anxiously at your phone.

The second location was a bit far but still close enough to the rented house to walk to. This was where the second years went. Your thoughts of hope went to them and you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

*Nothing here. Sorry Asahi-san* Ennoshita sent you the message and your heart tightened, losing hope.

*Thanks anyways!* You sent the reply quickly, brushing off the feeling of hopelessness.

You, Daichi, Sugawara and Kinnoshita were sitting in the bus on the way to the last seller. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you kept hoping and praying that this person had the amiibo card you needed. Your stop was getting closer and closer, which meant that the card was getting closer and closer to your possession.

“Ok so they said to meet them at the convenience store by the bus stop.” Kinnoshita announces as the four of you got out of the bus.

“I see it, it's right there! We just need to cross the street.” Sugawara pointed at the store directly across the street. “Oh and I see someone waiting outside.” He added looking at the figure sitting on one of the chairs outside the store.

You squinted at the figure trying to make out their features but couldn’t. What you did notice was a big binder they had on the table and your heart started doing backflips. Nerves took over your entirety and you feel yourself shake, face turning pale.

“Asahi? What’s wrong? You don’t look so good.” Daichi asked as he turned to look at you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry, it’s just the other two groups didn’t have luck with getting the card and I'm just nervous. We had a purpose to go here and so far we haven’t had any luck.I just wanted to give them something I know they would really want for their birthday.” You let out a sigh and relax the shoulders, just noticing how tense they were.

“I have a good feeling about this one! Just look at how thick that binder is!” Kinnoshita said, trying to reassure you. “So why don’t we go and see what they have?” Kinnoshita smiles.

You look up and give everyone a small smile. Taking the lead you step forward and get ready to cross the street. As soon as you cross the street, you take a deep breath and try to relax even more. The group then started to walk towards the store and closer to the stranger. They were on their phone, earphones in. The four of you looked at each other and just stood there for a while. Daichi sighed and tapped on the stranger's shoulder. They turn around and smile.

“I’m guessing you guys are the one looking for merengue? My name’s Hina by the way!” they say with a small smile.

“Yes that would be us.” Daichi smiled politely at them.

“Not going to lie, I didn’t expect four guys to know about animal crossing.” Hina said suggestively. “But then again, it’s not highly unlikely.” They say softly.

“Oh well, I’m just trying to get her on my island.” You spoke up, putting your hand on the back of your head shyly looking at them.

They squinted at you but shrugged it off. They turn to grab the binder on the table, opening it to look for the card that you wanted. The four of you were impressed with the collection arranged alphabetically.

“I have almost all of the cards, some of them I have two of. You guys are lucky that I have two of them.” Hina smirks, looking proud. “Ah! Here she is.” They grab the card out of the slot and hand it to you. “You better take good care of her!” They teased.

“T-thank you! I will take care of her.” You take the card and hold it, looking like it was a hidden treasure.

“So they seem special.” Hina commented, looking at you and they laughed. “You can have it, it seems really important to you and I know how that can be.” They smiled softly and looked up at the blue sky.

You looked at them and you were stunned. “W-wait! No! We have to pay you for this!” Taking your wallet out but they pushed it away.

“Take it and make sure to take care of your person.” Hina’s smile was gentle and soft. They took the binder and closed it. “Well! Good luck!” They said and turned around and walked away, leaving the four of you in shock.

The group looked at each other and sighed in unison, followed by laughter. You all then turned to cross the street and waited for the next bus to come. You had messaged the rest of the team about the good news and they replied with cheers. Once your group had arrived at the bus stop, the other boys greeted you. All of you then proceeded to walk back and while doing so everyone was now talking about the surprise plan that all of you thought of.

As soon as you walked inside, you rushed to your room to put the card in an envelope and hid it in the book that you got for them, another thing that they really wanted. You left your room afterwards and headed towards the living room, on your way there you passed by the little garden with the little fish pond. Y/N was sitting on the little bench humming a delightful tune and you felt your heart pound. You imagined them surrounded by two kids, you were by their side holding their hand as the kids were running around. They shifted in the seat and looked at you, smiling. This snapped you out of your thoughts, you waved at them and smiled back. They motioned for you to come over and so you did. Opening the sliding door, you took a deep breath in and relaxed your pounding heart.

“Hey there Asahi.” They greeted you cheerfully as soon as you closed the door and turned to look at them and motioned for you to sit next to them.

You smiled and took the invitation, sitting next to them. “How was your day?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s been really good, it was for you guys to invite me to your trip.” They looked at you, looking content.

“I mean, you’re pretty much part of the team too. We all hang out a lot and it just wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here, if you know what I mean.” You say, looking at the koi fish swimming around each other in the pond.

“Oh..” They said, almost a whisper.

You didn’t notice the soft look they gave you until you felt them place their hand on top of yours. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head to look at them, face feeling hot. The look on their face made you melt internally. Their eyes seemed to be pulling you in, making you fall deeper than you already were, not even knowing that they felt the same. None of you notice the space between both of you was slowly closing in, lips almost meeting until Nishinoya opened the sliding door. The two of you jumped a little and pulled away from each other while Nishinoya apologized and quickly went back inside. The air was quiet until they giggled and you had to turn to look at them again. A small smile appeared on your face, you opened your mouth so speak but was interrupted by the alarm on your phone. You took your phone out of your pocket, the bright light blinding you for a moment. *ALARM 12 AM* Your eyebrows shot up and you had to look up from your phone and look around.

“Oh. I didn’t even realize how dark it had been.” You say out loud.

“Well I mean, the garden is well lit.” They say pointing at the hanging lights above you.

You look up and got caught off guard by how pretty the lights looked. “Wow. So pretty, like y/n.” You whispered under you breath, momentarily forgetting that they were sitting next to you.

“What?” They spoke up after hearing what you said. “WHAT ASAHI” They said louder to get your attention.

You froze at the sound of their voice and you screamed internally. “What?” You say feigning innocence and you had an idea. “Uhm I’ll be right back. Stay here please.” You say immediately and get up to go to your room to grab the presents you got for them.

You went back to the garden fully expecting them to be gone but they were still there, patiently waiting for you. Going back out to the garden, you held your breath as you look at them. Eyes twinkling under the hanging lights, the expression on their face was what mad you want to run into their arms and kiss them but you resisted. You felt a wave of confidence and sat back down next to them.

“Here, this is for you. Happy birthday.” You say softly, handing them a box.

“Oh thank you. Is that why you had your alarm set for midnight?” They giggled as they took the box from you.

“Well. Actually, yeah.” You put a hand on the back of your neck and thought for a second.

“You know my birthday isn’t until tomorrow, right? They smiled.

“Yeah but, We wanted to celebrate today.” You smiled back.

They then looked at the box and began to open it. A smile crossed their face and your heart sped up. They turned the book to open and saw the happy birthday message you wrote.

“Thank you Asahi, I love it.” They were still look at the book, slowly turning the pages.

“Turn to your favorite passage, you know the one you always told me about.” You intructed them, pointing at the book.

They tilted their head and did as they were told. The envelope fell out but they caught it before it could hit the ground. They held it curiosly and you saw their face turn red. You watched them carefully and studied their expression when they opened the envelope. Excitement took over their expression and they got up and attacked you with a hug.

“Asahi!! Thank you!! I love it! I love her! I love you!” They say as they wrapped you in their arms.

You braced for the impact and hugged them back and you went stiff when you realize what they had just said. You hugged them tighter, tears threatening to fall down your face and you tried to hold it back but couldn’t. You choked a sob and inhaled sharply, they pulled away from you and concern was written all over their face.

“Asahi, hey? What’s wrong?” They cupped your face and wiped the tears away.

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I think?” You say in between breaths.

“Oh, Sorry, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.” Their expression turned soft and they leaned in to give you kiss on the forehead. “I really meant it you know. I really do love you.” They stared longingly at you, hands squeezing your face.

“Y-you do?” You say shakily.

“Of course I do. With all my heart.” They giggled. “I tell you what, since you got that merengue amiibo card for me, why don’t i take you out for a date as a thank you?” They teased a little.

“A dATE?” You almost screamed. “You? YOU? WANT? Like WANT? To go on a date? WITH ME?” You say repeatedly.

They laughed and nodded their head. “What do you say? Saturday, we could go out?” They say, thinking while you sat there just, in pure shock and happiness.

“You know what, I’ll take you up on that. Saturday right?” You snapped out of your shocked state and put your hands on their sides and felt a wave of confidence wash over you. You cupped their face and pulled them into a kiss, short and sweet. Now it was their turn to be shocked, their face was redder than a tomato and now it was your turn to laugh.They playfully hit your arm and pouted, breaking into a fit of laughter once they noticed that faking anger didn’t work. The laught filled the air and it might have been two in the morning but the two of had no care in the world. All there was for the two of you was this moment, the feeling in your hearts and the future that had yet to come.

——————————————————————————

Taglist : @sakura-asahi @lydzisanerd @vventure @letmeshouyou @gulfwanq @nekoglasses @lordeofthunder @cocoellen @dear-green-tea @kenmagi

#asahi azumane x reader #haikyuu asahi x reader #azumane asahi #hq asahi #haikyuu asahi #asahi azumane #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu requests #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq imagines #hq x reader #hq requests #animal crossing #animal crossing merengue #animal crossing request

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

Text

✨ self-ship tag game ✨

PART 2 | IwaLee (here you go, discord)

sorry if it's corny/cheesy LMAO my brain empty i can't think of anything to make for iwa's birthday i'm such a dumbass. was also supposed to draw an nsfw-ish thing for this but ya girl is feelin’ out of it lately sjhfalhj

How we met:

okay let’s just say i’m smart enough to land myself a scholarship in socal since i’m taking physical therapy anyway

i feel like... we would meet in the library LMAO what asian nerds

maybe i’d end up bothering him with the way i’m murmuring anatomy stuff and talking to myself when studying

so he overhears me struggling to remember that one word and he’s gonna fucking answer for me like okay sorry bud i’m stupid

jk i won’t react like that i’d just be like, “yes!” and turn to look at whoever it was who answered and say thank you because i’m so immersed in my own bubble of “knowledge” and big brain

when i notice that he’s actually cute i’d be fucking red in the ears out of embarrassment when he tells me to tone my voice down lmao so i apologize for being a bother :(

actually says, “don’t mind” damnit his english do be cute. just two asian kids far from home with accents

it’s awkward, but i’d steal glances at what he’s studying. would probably get caught after a looong while, but it’s bc i’ll be blanking off, brain tired

“do you have anything you want to ask?” he’ll be dropping his pen over his notes leaning back and stretching, bending his neck, rolling his shoulders while waiting for my answer

“omg i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to stare.” then i ask what his program is just bc he could be in one of my classes and i didnt know

anyway, turns out our schedules were pretty similar, we live in the same area/dorm, so like there’s always a chance for us to meet somehow

we wouldn’t give numbers to eo on that same day; like give it about two weeks of constantly bumping into eo before that happens

watch me share my highlighters with him, exchanging notes, passing some snacks beneath the table like its weed or sumn

from lib meetings to getting lunch together to being invited to watch his games (in freshman year i’d still go because i’d be less busier)

i would definitely use the honorifics on him, from “iwaizumi-san” gradually to “iwa-kun”; he won't admit that he likes it because it's a little piece of home

would convince to practice palpation with him because his body is a perfect example–

"wh-why don't you ask someone from your class?"

"i'm not that close with—are you blushing? omg you are!"

somehow i joke around, "i won't touch your dick," then i'd laugh at his reaction.

anyway, in return for using his body as a model, i have to sit through a godzilla marathon with him

the first time he sees me breakdown from the stress he's kinda flustered at first; but he's seen similar things with oikawa so he has a faint idea what to do. damn his hugs feel so warm, so safe

i'm quicker to open up to him, once i got comfortable; and reassurance that if he needed someone to talk to i'll also be there

basically a slow burn best friends to lovers kinda thing

ngl i'd be crushing on him by the time we're entering second year maybe? but because we're friends i always throw the thought away because i don't wanna ruin what we have

but da heart wants what it wants

it would take: the teasing of his buddies back at japan after seeing him post ig pics of us together (it was me who did it, i grabbed his phone); and, my own set of friends getting annoyed at me for always being in denial—all these just for us to finally come into terms with what we feel for eo

"i have something to tell you," we'll say to eo before we enter the lib ksksksk

"oh, you go first-" "no, you-"

it's awkward but i'll be the first to confess and he's 👁👁

"you... what?" "smh don't make me say it again, iwa. does this mean we're not friends anymore?"

"yeah"

"oh..."

"because i like you too. you... wanna go out with me?"

First date x type of dates:

study dates are automatically a thing for sure; we've upgraded from lib to cafe dates

since we're like, friends before this, potential stuff for first dates are already crossed out since we've kinda done them already???

so this issue was raised and his mind said, "then let's redo everything,"

the first thing we did outside campus was go on a foodtrip. because i was craving filo food, and he was craving jap food. and then i have this kinda habit that when i get to eat something delicious, i silently squeal or hum in my seat he finds that cute

the "first date" doesn't really have to be grand because we're like... close friends with feelings. so we don't have to try hard to please each other. everything just feels natural when we're together

anyway, we try out the food we didn't have before. he still prefers sinigang over adobo. he's still kinda amazed where i put all the food after eating a bowl of ramen that's good for two

he's gonna take a pic of me in that excited face i make when the food is placed before me and make it his wallpaper (homescreen) secretly

after that, we're just walking, me telling him about something i watched or nerd talk, then he slips his hand against mine, holding it and pulling me closer that it makes me shut up–so he laughs

"that's all it takes to get you quiet, babe?"

"w-what? also... did you just call me babe? because i didn't think i'd like it,"

"i know something you'll like," he stops walking, then, with his free hand he cups my face and pulls in for a kith kith 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

i am blushing when i tell him, "that your first kiss?"

"y-yeah, why?"

"same"

we were already walking and he swoops in for a quick peck again, "then that's the second,"

he says that with a little frown on his face, cheeks also flushed and ugh soft!lee—i lean my head against his arm because i'm too short to put it above his shoulder. but anyway i tell him, "didn't think you had it in you to be this soft for me,"

"sh-shut up"

it doesn't seem romantic because ✨it doesn't have to be when we're already happy✨

While we’re dating:

he saves all the selfies i send him; whether it's the meme-ish ones or just me feelin' good about myself he's got them saved

notebooks getting interchanged kskskss it's terrible because one minute i'm reading my notes about pharma, then i flip a page and i see stuff about sports science like–???

tho what makes it cute is that he has tiny scribbles on corners in hiragana or maybe kanji and some random zigzag lines over some words–a sign that he fell asleep with a pen in his hand

i have lots of caps (that are majority of my dad's but i like them all so i brought sum) and he just... gets one from behind my door (it's the same energy as the hoodies thing)

and i 🥺 bc he actually looks good in caps like??? sir that's illegal

ok but walks in the beach at sunset

also surfer!iwa???? mhhhh yes yes living the dream honestly

ofc volleyball is involved, he's kinda pleased i can play decently. it's either the gym or vb

he would force me to go to the gym smh "you're a PT aren't you? shouldn't you be moving around too?" i'm gonna grumble but the sight of his er, toned body before during and after exercising is the best reward

actually its a win-win, he likes how my butt is outlined by my jog pants and how for him, i still look good even if i'm sweaty all over

hehe we'd end up getting horny by the time we reach the dorms–you know the rest and afterwards:

"so, you'll go to the gym more often now?"

"if it ends up like this, i wouldn't mind,"

we teach eo our mother language! but only on our spare time. omg imagine him telling me "mahal na mahal kita"??? i'm??? or when he's chatting with oikawa (especially that one time he sent a selfie of him and ushijima) he uses tagalog swear words if he just wants to mess with his best friend

vidcalls with each other's fam—i mean, for my parents they know we've been always close, and like, it will be my grandma/dad who'd ask him, "when will you court my granddaughter/daughter?"

he got so nervous, he stuttered, "i'm... i'm courting her already,"

anyway they approve of him because he is smart^TM and a good man 🥺 because they know he has ambitions in life the same way that i do have my own goals i wanna achieve

meanwhile me, i'm gonna be so nervous trying to speak to his fam, but they're all so sweet so i tell him afterwards, "so that's where you get the softies,"

anyway since this is college we're talking about, every passing year, we both become busy, especially when internships come around

but when he can, he'll fetch me from the hospital with comfort food because he knows it's been a rough day and he wants to make sure i'm taking care of myself 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 lowkey i try to do the same for him because he deserves it; but he says it's okay and that i should be preserving my energy for my studies 😭

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osakaso5 · 5 years

Text

Yuki Photobook - Special Interview

Element + Message | SNS Pick Up | On ~ Off

"I'll be happy as long as I get to celebrate you every day, Momo."

"I'm glad if you enjoyed this year of photobooks."

For each volume of the IDOLiSH7 1st Photobook Series, the member with the previous birthday will produce two special cuts. The member in charge of the Yuki Photobook is his partner who loves happiness more than anything, Momo (born on the 11th of November). He told us what happened during and after the shoot in his usual, casual manner.

Cover Producer & Talk Partner

Momo Member of Re:vale. Always considerate to those around him, he is an exciting entertainer to work with, as well as abundant in talent and popularity.

Yuki: This Photobook series is finally coming to and end with me.

Momo: That's right~! The year really flew by!

Yuki: It feels like Momo Photobook wrapped up production just yesterday.

Momo: Huh, does that mean you're gonna devote every day to me!?

Yuki: If that's what you want.

Momo: Darling, you're such a hunk..!

Yuki: Yeah, I know.

Momo: They say time feels faster the older you get, but I don't think I'd feel a thing if every day was devoted to Momo appreciation! (lol)

Yuki: I'll be happy as long as I get to celebrate you every day, Momo.

Momo: Yuki..! If you make me any happier than that, I'm gonna become young all over again!

Yuki: Alright. Let's turn this from my photobook interview into a redo of the Momo Photobook interview.

Momo: Huh!?

Yuki: I can't believe you secluded yourself alone with Ryunosuke-kun for an interview, Momo.

Momo: That's the kind of project this is, Yuki~!

Yuki: ...Do you think that's enough joking around to open with?

Momo: Ahaha! That's all, folks! ...I'm kidding, of course! We're not done! We're gonna do this properly from here on out!

Yuki: Yes, we are... Looking back on it, this year felt much shorter than it was.

Momo: Aren't you basically repeating what I just said!? (lol)

Yuki: Damn. My old age must be getting to me.

Momo: Ahaha! You're still in your 20's! ...Though I'm willing to bet you'll be just as handsome no matter how old you get!

Yuki: Thank you.

Momo: But if you're that worried, do you want me to give you Momo-chan's very special anti-aging course as a birthday present?

Yuki: What kind of course is it?

Momo: I tell you "Yuki, you're so cool!" and "Yuki, you're the best", while...

Yuki: While?

Momo: While we eat a full course anti-aging dinner made by you!

Yuki: Haha. So I'm the one making it.

Momo: My cooking's no match against yours! Besides, all the food you make is so healthy that it's gotta have some kind of anti-aging effect, right!?

Yuki: You just want to keep saying the word "anti-aging".

Momo: I like to use words I've just learned! What else was there... detoxing? Botoxing?

Yuki: Even if you've just learned them, they've already gone out of fashion.

Momo: No way..!

Yuki: Yes way.

Momo: I can't believe you're lecturing me on fashion..!

Yuki: Oh, that's the part that bothered you.

Momo: ...Wait! At this rate, we're gonna waste our time chit chatting, Yuki..!

Yuki: Hang in there, Mr. Interviwer.

Momo: You're just making me more nervous!

Yuki: But we're so used to doing interviews together. You're so weird.

Momo: I know! But this time we're not both being interviewed for our fans, it's a project starring you. I should be exposing your charms for all your fans to see..!

Yuki: There's no part of me that you don't already know, Momo.

Momo: Cut it out with the smooth talk!

Yuki: Damn.

Momo: At this rate the interview will be over before I get to tell everyone how handsome you are, so for starters, tell us how you felt shooting the cover image!

Yuki: Hmm. I'm satisfied with how sexy it came out. Momo was ordering me to seduce my audience, so I'm happy if I managed to seduce you all.

Momo: You're definitely seducing me!

Yuki: Right now? Even during the shoot, you had to peek at me through your fingers.

Momo: That's because you were so overflowing with sex appeal! I know I'm the who told you to make sexy poses, but halfway through the shoot, I got worried that it wouldn't even be appropriate for the cover!

Yuki: Combined with the Momo Photobook produced by Ryunosuke-kun, it seems like we succeeded in showing everyone a more mature side of Re:vale.

Momo: Maybe this'll help us get the kind of magazine features that are usually given to the guys who place high in sexy rankings!?

Yuki: Our cover pictures were highly manipulated, so I'm not sure if we can take any more pictures that good, though.

Momo: You're an idol, don't tell them our pictures were manipulated..!

Yuki: But you were the most concerned with getting the right angle of me at the shoot, weren't you?

Momo: Shh! Keep that a secret..! They'll know what went on behind the scenes!

Yuki: I thought that's what we came here to talk about.

Momo: Maybe we did, but please ask my agency for permission first!

Yuki: Do you think you could ask them for me, as one of their idols?

Momo: I'll have to discuss that with my manager later!

Yuki: Please do.

Momo: Ahaha! Well then, let's move to questions about the book.

Yuki: Yeah.

Momo: What did you think about the special gravure shots?

Yuki: It had a fun, Christmas-y feel. When we were shooting it, Momo started singing our song "TO MY DEAREST", replacing every "you" with "Yuki".

Momo: That's because you asked me to sing!

Yuki: It was cold, but that at least helped warm my heart.

Momo: Wait, don't you mean you stayed warm because you were laughing so hard at me!? Even the camera crew had a hard time keeping it together when they saw that!

Yuki: Everyone was happy and having fun.

Momo: Geez, in the end you always know just what to say!

Yuki: Ah, also, because of how Momo posed in his own book, I decided to hold a drink in my hand, as well. Did any of you at home notice that?

Momo: Of course they noticed, since it's a loving gesture from you!

Yuki: I wanted to create a sense of unity between Re:vale.

Momo: As you'd expect of Producer Yuki!

Yuki: You're the producer here.

Momo: Nyahaha.

Yuki: I was pretty fired up, since it was the last entry in a series we did with our juniors.

Momo: The fact that your excitement made you want to seem more unified with me is making me feel really loved, Yuki..!

Yuki: Yeah.

Momo: It's making me wanna have a love talk with you...

Yuki: Love talk..?

Momo: Yep..! Tell us what your type is!

Yuki: Ah, that question. Leave it to me.

Momo: Why are you looking so confident? (lol)

Yuki: My type is someone with stark, multicolored hair, who always thinks about making the people around them happy, has cute little fangs, a cute smile...

Momo: Yuki! Stop, stop!

Yuki: What?

Momo: I'm happy that you're trying to copy what I said for the Momo Photobook, but this is hitting me pretty hard! My health meter's blinking!

Yuki: I didn't say this was about you, though.

Momo: Huh... it wasn't..?

Yuki: Don't give me that look. It's making what little conscience I have nag at me.

Momo: Then who were you talking about..?

Yuki: You, Momo.

Momo: Yuki~! I'm so glad! Any more than that, and I would've gone home to pack my stuff!

Yuki: Phew, I narrowly avoided having to finish this interview by myself.

Momo: But why did you copy me..?

Yuki: Basically, it was because reading what you said made me happy. Even if you did only say it to Ryunosuke-kun.

Momo: You could've worded that better, but I'm glad to hear it!

Yuki: You had Ryunosuke-kun all flustered.

Momo: It was a nice and innocent reaction..! This project has helped us see all kinds of cool and cute new sides to our juniors!

Yuki: Right. It's exactly the kind of project one could expect from someone as fixated on happiness as you.

Momo: But we both came up with this project!

Yuki: Yeah, I suppose. I'm glad it succeeded.

Momo: Yep, yep!

Yuki: We even managed to show a more mature side of ourselves, like we talked about. Though I couldn't really think we would while I was producing Iori-kun's book.

Momo: You were our first batter, after all! Were you feeling the pressure?

Yuki: I wasn't. It's not often you get to produce for a cute high school-aged junior of yours. It was fun. ...Though I was surprised that after everything I did to avoid nudity in Iori-kun's shoot, he just went and did that with Yamato-kun's shoot the next month.

Momo: Ahaha! That was a pretty revealing look!

Yuki: Can't hold it against a HS boy.

Momo: You just wanted to say "HS boy", didn't you!?

Yuki: Yeah. During our interview, Iori-kun told me he doesn't hear that term very often, but I still like the sound of it.

Momo: I know what you mean~. ........

Yuki: ...? What's wrong, Momo? You've gone all quiet.

Momo: I have to ask a question that I really don't like next... Sorry, I wasn't focusing on what you said...

Yuki: Ah, that question about the saddest thing that's happened to me in this line of work?

Momo: Yeah... If had anything to do with it, I'm gonna wanna dig myself a hole and crawl in it. But if it had nothing to do with me, that'll also make me kind of sad... My heart is in chaos...

Yuki: Don't worry. It does have to do with you.

Momo: Aaahh!!! I knew it!!! I'm sorry, Yuki, I'm sorry!

Yuki: Fufu. I'd like to tell the readers what it was, but since I don't want to make you any sadder, I'll keep the rest of it a secret.

Momo: Uuuugh... I'm such a lousy interviewer...

Yuki: You're just good at stirring up their imaginations.

Momo: You're such an optimist, Yuki!

Yuki: As long as you're by my side, I am. And it really isn't anything you need to be sad about, so don't worry.

Momo: You're an optimist AND dreamy..!

Yuki: Now that you're in a better mood again, let's move on to the next question.

Momo: I-I'll do my best! Now, tell us something that made you happy!

Yuki: Most recently, it was looking at screenshots of your birthday group chat with TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7.

Momo: Wow! Even this answer's about me!

Yuki: That's right.

Momo: Could you answer something a little different, for the readers..?

Yuki: You're so greedy... Hmm, getting to sing with you at concerts, having you praise the songs I make, and getting to work together with you in general.

Momo: That's just different stuff that's got to do with me!!!

Yuki: Yeah.

Momo: It feels like this is only making me happier! Sorry, readers!

Yuki: It's fine. Our happiness is everyone's happiness.

Momo: Yuki, you're so cocky!

Yuki: Do you like when I act cocky?

Momo: I love it..! Since you're so handsome, give this interview a handsome finish!

Yuki: Got it. ...Thank you for reading the Yuki Photobook. This all began with an idea of ours, so I'm glad if you enjoyed this year of photobooks. I'd like to do all kinds of other things with our juniors, so I want you to keep loving Re:vale like you already do. And keep loving all of IDOLiSH7 and TRIGGER, too.

Translator’s notes..?

happy 4th anniversary! i’ll be posting some extra stuff in between rabbit chats again, starting with the yuki photobook. thank you @whitedarknessinthedark for the scans!

#idolish7 #yuki #birthday photobook #translation #re:vale #other translations

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inudaughter · 5 years

Text

Morning Kisses

Okay, I'm not going to lie, this wasn't suppose to be a short story. Instead, it was suppose to be a writing prompt.

So heads up, I did almost no editing or proofreading on this story.

P.S. if you would like to redo this, I give you promotion to do is. Just please tag or message me it. So I can read it.

You feel your orc husband climbing over you to get out of bed, but you stop him mid way by pulling on his beard. Only to keep pulling until his lips meet your. You kiss him softly before pulling away; you run your hand over his cheek as you look into his golden eyes that seemed to sparkle at you.

“Good morning Love.” You sweetly say as you run your hands through his hair and pull him down for another kiss.

“Good morning to you too, My Princess.” He says deepening the kiss while he rubs your little bump through the covers. “So how did my two favorite people sleep?”

“We were sleeping fine until our warm protest decided to sneak out of bed.” You say smiling up at him as you two placed your foreheads together.

“This warm protest also has to provide for his growing wife and child; if not, he wouldn’t be a good husband.” He said as he got up but you grabbed his hand to keep him close. He looks down at you with a sweet smile. “I’m going in to town to get more supplies, before the heavy snowfalls. Plus, the town’s only two miles away, so I’ll be back here before dark.”

You still didn’t like him going, even if not that far. You had this bad feeling something would happen. That or this pregnancy was making you paranoid.

He leaned down to kiss you one more time, restocking the firewood for the day, then made sure you ate something before heading out.

You rolled over curling yourself up in the blankets to get more sleep.

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

By the time you woke again, it was midday, and you were hungry again. So you ate some bread with a cup of water, seeing as that’s the only thing you could stomach right now.

Next you did a little cleaning around the house. While you were cleaning, you heard the wind picked up but paid it no mind.

By the time you finish cleaning, with some breaks in between. It was getting dark and your husband had not made it back yet.

You looked out the window to see a snowstorm outside. This made you nervous. Wondering if your husband had gotten caught out in the snowstorm, or if he had played it smart and stayed in town. Either way, you began to worry.

As the light faded into darkness, you worked on baby clothes by the light of the fire. This helped distracted your mind some but worry still creeped in now and then.

As you looked up from your work, you noticed the fire had gone low. You looked towards the window and listened carefully for any noise outside. Upon hearing nothing, you got up to look outside.

You opened the door slowly as you peeked through the crack. You couldn’t see anything passed the porch but when you looked down, you saw that the storm covered the porch in snow. You popped your head out the door to see if your husband had left wood on the porch.

You sighed when you saw he had left none. Which meant the wood was still on the side of the house. Closing the door, you went to go put on your winter gear.

You slowly walked out of the house and down the porch as you stayed alert to any noises. You love living out here with your husband but hated being here alone. Especially at night when your eyes couldn’t see danger coming. Being in the dark terrified you. You know what the woods held in them.

You had seen direwolves once when you were out hunting with your husband. Thankfully, your husband’s frostwolf was there to scare them away back then.

Unfortunately, Moonsing had died protecting you from a bear shortly after y'all got married. He had won the fight with the bear but not the battle with his injuries.

As you got to the end of the porch, you peeked your head around the corner to check for danger. But could see nothing, not even the light of the windows helped.

So you slowly grab the firewood. If anything was out here, you didn’t want it to know you were out here. However, if your husband saw you right now. He would rush over to help, then would give you a lecture about picking up heavy things.

You smiled as you thought about him, but your smile died, when you heard a howl come from behind your house.

You quickly turned to go inside but tripped over the porch, dropping the wood as you fell onto your hands and knees. You quickly jump up and ran inside. Whatever was out there, would have heard that noise and be coming to investigate. You pushed a chest in front of the door, hoping it would keep the door from opening, if the wolves wanted to get in.

You flip your bed on its side, turning it into a shield for you to hide behind. You rush to grab all your furs, pillows, and the dagger your husband gave you as courting gift. You quickly throw everything behind the bed and pulled one side of the bed closer to the wall. Boxing yourself into a corner.

As you sat there listening to your surroundings, you began to get cold. So you wrapped one fur around you but noticed it was the blanket made from Moonsing’s fur.

You were disturbed when you saw what your husband did, but understand why he did it, after he explained the orc tradition.

He told you, when an animal partner dies protesting its partner, its spirit still recites with the body. So if you take a part of that animal and keep it with you. It will protect you from unseen dangers.

You kissed the fur and said a little prayer. Praying that what the orcs believed was true and the spirit of Moonsing still lives in the fur.

You watched as the last of your fire light went out, which left you in the darkness. You heard footsteps walking outside on the porch. You closed your eyes and prayed they would go away.

You then heard a low familiar growl but you couldn’t place where it was coming from. You closed your eyes and listened closely as you heard footsteps running away.

You listened for a while longer but heard nothing.

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

You jumped wake, when you heard the door being forced open and your husband yelling your name. You wondered when you had fallen asleep?

Your husband yell your name again as you heard him opening the cabinets. Your known for hiding in there sometime.

“Love,” you quietly speak out, fighting with your sleepy eyes.

“Y/n,” you hear your husband say as his head pops out from a top the bed. He quickly moves the bed back up right and scoops her up into his arms holding her to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest and heard his deep breaths.

“Is she all right?” You heard a familiar voice say.

“She’s fine. It’s not her blood outside.” Said your husband turning to the person. You saw the village doctor and his assistant walking into the house.

“That’s good, but now I would like to check on her and the baby.” Said the doctor.

“All right,” said your husband sitting you down in his chair. He then kissed the top of your head. “I will get some firewood to restart the fire.”

As your husband started the fire, put the house back together and bought in some supplies. The doctor looked you over and after telling you, you would need to be on bed rest. They headed out. Your husband saw them out as you sat by the fire to get warm.

When your husband came back, he peeked his head through the door. “Love, I have something for you,” he said smiling sweetly at you.

“And what might that be?” You asked grinning, thinking it might be something dirty, because your husband had a dirty mind.

When he opened the door wide two frostwolf pups came walking in. You were shocked, your husband said, he didn’t want to get another frostwolf after Moonsing died, but here were two frostwolf pups walking into your home.

You smiled, they came slowly walking over to you and rolling over on their backs. You smiled up at your husband, who was walking over to you. He picked you up and sat you in his lap as he sat on the floor in front of the fire. As the pups began to play.

“I felt my world shattered, when I saw the blood and tracks on the porch with the scattered wood,” He said wrapping me up in his warmth. “I couldn’t think straight, I panicked.”

“I also saw Moonsing when we got close to the house.” he said as I turned to look at him in the eyes. "I thought I was seeing things, but the doctor saw him too. Until I saw the blood, I doubted it was him but upon seeing you wrapped in his fur. I see now, he was telling me, you were okay."

"I heard his growl last night after the fire went out. I didn't recognize it at first but now that you said you saw Moonsing. I'm sure it was him." you say as he placed his forehead to yours and pulled you closer. You smiled at him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Hey mister protector, I haven't gotten my morning kisses yet." You said grabbing the side of his face. This made him smile as your lips met his.

You both spent the day enjoying each other's company while stealing kisses.

#monster love #orc boyfriend #my fantasies #orc lover #orc

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underthemoon-and-stars · 5 years

Note

Are you willing to write a Stucky with a child that has Cystic Fibrosis? If so, can it be a domestic fluff? Like Bucky finds the kid and they remind him of Pre-serum Steve so he and Bucky take them in. Thank you if you can. (I'm sorry just want to see a CF character in a fandom I love)

Hi dear!! I was very nervous to write this as I wasn't very aware of the symptoms of CF. I went on a lot of medical sites and I think I have the information right? If not I am so so sorry and I will redo it!! Also I'm going to make their child a daughter but feel free to switch up the pronouns! -Selenophile

Cystic fibrosis is a genetic condition, which means that it is something you are born with. Cystic fibrosis is known to cause your lungs to produce extra-thick, sticky mucus. This mucus builds up and clogs your airways. Side effects include persistent cough with phlegm, postnasal drip, wheezing, shortness of breath, inability to exercise, as well as poor growth and low body weight despite a good appetite.

Y/N reads the doctors note every day. When she was younger, she didn't understand one word of it. At two years of age she would hand over the card to the family that had high hopes of adopting a little girl. They would usually leave without her. Her housemother, Mrs. Hamilton, always played it off as a different type of superhero form the comic books. Not a lot of adults want superhero babies. It was so easy to believe that. Now she’s 18. She getting released into the real world Luckily, her friend offered her house just till she can find a college to stay at. Y/N had to learn the hard way that adults don't want a sick kid.

“Hey kiddo” Mrs. Hamilton said, her tone soft like silk. “You read that dumb note everyday. It means nothing.”

“It apparently does. No adult wanted me in my 18 years of being here.” Y/N retaliated.

“Don't think about that. They didn't deserve you anyway.”

Y/N sighed and picked up her tote bags. “I’ll miss your kindness, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“You have my number if you need me.”

“I know”

They shared a long tender hug. Y/N pulled away once she felt a little tickle in her throat. The tickle sadly turned into a whole fit.

“Hey, if you ever need me to pay for your Bronchodilators, please text me. I don't mind.”

“Of course Mrs. Hamilton. Ill see you around.”

And with that, Y/N made her way down the stairs. This place, so familiar, was now going to be apart of her past. She remembers running all around with her “brothers”. Patiently eating dinner with her “sisters” was the best. Even exploring the world with their gender-fluid and non-binary siblings was so exciting. Mrs. Hamilton and her always had the best talks. Mr. Hamilton helped with her homework. So, so many memories from this place. She’ll miss it.

The outside world was so much different now that Y/N was out on her own. She took her meds this morning, so that once gross, pollen-infested air didn't even bother her anymore. Her brave feet carried her away from the place she used to call home. The first order of business before heading to her house of 2 months though, get some lunch. Wendy’s has a pretty amazing salad and it was only 2 blocks down. Lucky for her, 2 blocks was her walking limit. Off she went.

That's where Bucky and Steve were enjoying a lovely lunch as well. Steve had a hamburger, and Bucky had some chicken nuggets.

“Alright dear” Steve said “Check Wendy's off your list”

“Already did. I think its pretty good! Not my favorite though.” Bucky replied happily.

The newly-founded couple have been going to one fast food place a week to introduce Bucky to different types. Any fast food restaurant one could think of, they're going. It was a mix of a date and bringing Bucky up to modern times. It was good for them.

“Bucky, all you get is chicken nuggets you should branch out.”

“Leave me aloneeee I love my chicken nuggets”

They giggled together, and returned to eating. That's when Y/N walked through the door. She was already panting. Not even realizing, she passed the two men who would change her life.

Y/N stood patiently, waiting to order. Bucky watched her. Her small, skinny stature reminded him so much of young Steve. Even the way she panted after walking in. Steve would do the same.

“Who are you looking at my love?” Steve questioned.

“Oh, the girl on line. She reminds me so much of you. Skinny, Small, I heard her panting. Look she's coughing now too. What was it called?”

Steve turns around and smiles “Bucky she's cute but what's your point?”

Bucky jumped up “I'm gonna talk to her!”

“That's cute love but please come back id like to enjoy our date before our next mission”

The long-haired man nodded, skipping happily over to Y/N. Just as he was approaching though, an older man came behind her and snatched her wallet. Bucky was ready to pounce, but Y/N was first to it. She was so weak, so she flung right off with a simple push of the man.

“Hey doll, you alright?” He asked softly.

She nodded weakly, already shaking. Steve rushed out the door to follow the man.

“That's my boyfriend, he’ll get your wallet. Why don't you sit with us? I’ll get your lunch! What would you like?”

Y/N looked up at him. “I-I” she took a minute to wheeze out a cough “T-that's too kind of y-you.”

“Please its my pleasure! what would you like?”

Y/N tells him a simple Caesar Salad. He happily picks her up, along with her stuff. Bucky told her where she was sitting, and she made her way.

This is so weird. Y/N thinks to herself. She takes a seat regardless through, watching the tall blonde walk towards the shorter brunette. She sees her wallet and feels at ease.

“She’s either a runaway or an orphan whos turned 18. We need to take her in” Bucky whispered into his ear.

“Or she's just heading off to college? I cant put a girl a risk” Steve whispered back.

“Please Steve. She reminds me so much of you. She cant survive out here one her medication runs out. And to be honest? She seems like she has a low dosage the way she's still wheezing and coughing like that.”

“One day James. If she changes my mind in one day, we can keep her”

Bucky happily kissed Steve's cheek. He carefully grabbed the salad and took it to the girl.

They ate together rather happily. The couple learned her name was Y/N. She’s and 18 year old girl who just came out of the system, just like Bucky hypothesized. To sum up her condition , she showed them the note - which was only kept for nostalgic purposes - which made Steve feel connected to her more.

“So no one adopted you because you have Cystic Fibrosis?” Bucky asked

“No one wants a sick kid”

Steve sympathized. “I used to have CF too. Once I got the super solider serum I never had to deal with it again. I understand where you come from though. Being constantly underweight and small, also no matter how hard you try you cant become better at exercise. I get it.”

Bucky took Steve’s hand and kissed his cheek. Y/N smiled, continuing to eat her salad. She didn't even question the fact that he was Captain America, she understands how it feels to be bombarded with questions.

They managed to convince Y/N to stay for the night. She fought them on it, telling them they were being way too nice for a girl who was about to ruin their night. Bucky continued to tell her to shush it, while Steve was having a change of heart.

It was a good night. They watched TV together, enjoyed a lovely home cooked dinner, talked some more about each other and even played some old timey board games. Y/N had the time of her life. No way on Earth would she do this with any other adult who offered her help. Since Steve had a similar experience and Bucky helping him through said experience, it gave Y?N the confidence to take the offer. She never regretted it

That one day became one week. That one week became one month. The one month became a year. Steve and Bucky were there every step of the way. Convincing to ask the little web slinger Peter Parker out to prom, taking said prom pictures, helping Y/N with homework, taking her on cool adventures. The day of her high school graduation they gave her the gift of a car. She gave them the official title of Dad. When the papers for official guardianship were clear, it was the happiest day of the trio’s life.

Now, its the night before Y/N goes to college. Her bags were packed. Her small, cozy bedroom looked so vacant now. Her dads were cuddled up on the couch.

“Got any room for a jellybean?” She asked softly.

“Yes we do! Always!” Bucky cheered happily,splitting apart from Steve. The small girl jumped in, which was a big mistake since she was already taking deeper breaths.

“Did your school accommodate for your CF?” Steve asked, giving her a big fat kiss on her cheek.

With a giggle, she replied “Yeah dad, They put me in the closest dorm to the classroom. They also put me on the lower floor on the dorm building. AND Peter said he was gonna help me out.”

“You and Peter are too cute, I'm happy he takes interest in you”

“Thanks Dad 2″

Y/N leaned right into her dad 2 where she was scooped under the chilly metal. Steve got up, moving to the fleshier side of his husband. Yes, in the year Y/N lived with them, they finally got themselves together and got married. Y/N was Bucky’s maid of honor, and she joined in on the couples first dance.

They watched the stupid soap opera that was on late at night. all three of them couldn't even keep up with what was happening.

“Dads, I love you” Y/N blurted out.

“Woah kid, you better catch your breath, because we love you too.” Bucky responded as Steve reached over, playing with the girls hair. Her happy giggled gave Steve and Bucky the message: they changed this girls world.

Send all requests to the Inbox!!💌

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allmight-amiright · 5 years

Text

Redo. Bakugou Katsuki

Request: hey hey hey! Your angst is well, angsty. I love it, could you do a Bakugo&Reader fighting a villain with a quirk that can erase memories and the reader gets caught by their quirk? I love your writing keep it up!

Word count:2.5K

Warnings: Swears

Notes: If you don’t think Bakugou says ‘yo,’ you can fight me. Can we also make it canon that Bakugou loves saying shit like “THAT’S MY WIFE”

It was just a normal Wednesday afternoon where Bakugou was concerned. Sure, you got called off on a mission, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He had work to do. It was Wednesday and Wednesday meant trash day, mid-week laundry day, and “Bakugou, please, for the love of All Might, organize your dresser drawers” day. With you out on a mission, that also meant that he was in charge of dinner so the two of you could eat when you were done.

Bakugou felt like a housewife straight out of the 1950s. He had a bandana to hold his hair away from his face. He had an apron protecting his black t-shirt. It was your flower-y apron, but it was an apron nonetheless. He had been balancing a number of different tasks during the day, making sure his pasta didn’t boil over, folding and putting away your laundry, making the bed, paying attention to his favorite soap opera so he could discuss with Kirishima later, cleaning out the fridge, and anything else he could think of that needed to be done.

He was draining his pasta when his phone started to buzz and play the tune that he had set to your contact. He hit the speaker button and continued dumping his noodles into the strainer. “Hey, babe. How’s it going?” He asks.

“Woah. Didn’t realize we had reached ‘babe’ status,” a voice that is very much not yours answers with a laugh.

“Oh, hey, Kirishima. Dude! Did you see today’s episode?!”

“Dude! Jessica!”

“I know! She’s totally going to get murdered by her ex-husband’s new girlfriend’s son.”

“He’s so gonna kill her! Okay, but Ivan, though? I didn’t like him, but I think he’s growing on me.”

“Yeah, he and Karen stole that baby and he’s like a new dude. A good dad? Now that’s something I can get behind. It’s really too bad that the baby was just a scheme set up by Karen so she could leave the baby with Ivan and sneak off with Derek.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna suck when Ivan finds out. But, he’s not find out for at least another three months.”

“Dude, I know,” Bakugou says, sighing. Then he remembers. “Yo, why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

“Oh, yeah! So, here’s the shit. Dropped my phone in the ambulance on the way here, so one of the EMT guys is go-”

Bakugou’s smile drops. He sets the pot in the sink, holding his phone up to his ear. “Why did you need an ambulance, Kirishima?” He growls.

“Oh, I didn’t! Y/N did,” Kirishima says nonchalantly, as if it really wasn’t a big deal and that it was as normal as catching a bus.

“What the hell did you do to my wife!”

“Oh! Right! That’s why I called you. See,” Kirishima’s composure switches from his typical cheer to more of a nervous shake, but most people did that when they had to talk to an angry Bakugou, especially if it concerned you.

“I swear on your mother’s life, if you let any villain lay a finger on my wife, I will personally cut off your toes and shove them down your throat!” Bakugou threatens, his rage bubbling with each passing moment.

“No! Dude, she’s fine! Well, kind of… Like, she’s definitely awake, sitting right here next to me.”

“Then, let me talk to her.”

“Well, about that… Maybe you should talk to her in person.”

“Remember Kirishima, if I get there and there’s as much as a scr-”

“Yeah, I know, dude. Toes. Yum. Gotcha. Stop threatening me and come here.”

Bakugou didn’t need to be told twice. He had already hung up the phone and was half way out the door. “Shoes, keys, phone, wallet,” he mutters to himself, patting his pockets before leaving.

But he came bursting back through the door a few moments later with a simple, “Fuck, my chicken!” He yanked open the oven, grabbing the dish of chicken breasts, ready to be added to the pasta, recoiling as the scalding hot pan seared his hand. Bakugou released a stream of swears as he held his hand under the now running tap, digging in a drawer for a pot holder. With his new safety precaution, he removed the chicken, setting it down on top of the stove before sprinting out the door.

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

He stood at the front desk at the hospital, tapping his fingers against the desk impatiently, waiting for a receptionist. A tired young man emerged from around the corner and took a seat and gave Bakugou a polite smile. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I need to see Y/N Bakugou.”

“Okay,” he murmured, typing your name into his computer. “What’s the relation?”

“She’s my wife! I should get to see her!”

“Can I see your ID?”

“This is ridiculous,” Bakugou grumbled, pulling his ID out of his wallet and handing it to the guy behind the counter.

The receptionist doesn’t say anything, checking the information on the ID to the information Kirishima had written on your patient forms. “Okay, sir, everything seems to match up, Ms. Bakugou is on the seventh floor, room 737. Just go through those doors and the elevator will be to your left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, sliding his ID back in his wallet and starts to walk away. “Oh, hey, by the way, that’s Mrs. Bakugou to you.”

Up the elevator and down the hall he went. He practically slammed the door to your room open. “Alright, dumbass, what-” He’s greeted by the horrified stare of a little girl hooked up to an IV. He looked at the number plaque on the door. 747. Shit. “I’m so sorry. I’ll just be going,” he says, starting to leave.

“Hey, mister!”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Are you that one superhero with the fire?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Listen, kid, I’m a little busy right n-”

“You and the really nice lady are married, right?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at you being referred to as ‘the really nice lady.’ He knew just how feisty you could be, especially with him. He had seen you red hot mad, threatening to smack him with a spoon. He knew that you could and would kick his ass given a good enough reason. But he also had seen you out in the field, saving civilians. It brought out your motherly nature and what being a hero was all about, helping people. So, he figures he could see where she got the idea.

“Yeah, I am,” he answers, smiling a little, running his thumb over his silver wedding band.

“She saved my life today, but I didn’t get to tell her thank you. So, can you give this to her?” The girl holds up a folded piece of paper with a crudely drawn image of you and the girl on the front with ‘Thank you’ written in purple crayon, but it was spelled more like ‘Thak yew,’ but it’s the sentiment that matters, right?

Bakugou walked over to her and crouched down so he was level with her. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll take this to her, and when she’s all good to go, I’ll bring her by for a quick visit, okay?”

Her eyes lit up as she clutched the teddy bear that was wearing a little mask that was similar to the one you wear. “You’d really do that? She’s my favorite!”

“I’m sure that she’d love to meet you. Now, I have to go find her, but I’ll make sure she gets your card.”

“Thank you, mister!”

“Of course. Feel better, kid.” Bakugou walked out of the room, closing the door much quieter than he had opened it.

740.

739.

738.

Found it.

737.

He double-checked the number on the door and just to be safe, he took the clipboard of health information off the wall, checking it over for your name.

There it was.

Y/N Bakugou.

He opened the door to you laying in your hospital bed, carrying on a quiet conversation with Kirishima who was sat in the chair next to your bed. At the sound of his entering, you and Kirishima stop your conversation and turn your attention to him. Kirishima smiles at him, but you just stare at him in confusion.

“Hey, man!” Kirishima says, raising a hand in greeting.

Bakugou moves over to your side. He sets the card down on the table next to you before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What’s up, dumbass?” He asks, looking at you.

You just look at him, pulling your legs up towards the rest of your body and away from him. “Kirishima?” She asks, turning back to her previous conversation partner.

Bakugou looks at you bewildered and then turns his gaze to his friend. “I thought you told me that she was fine!” He snapped.

“Yeah, she is, dude!”

“Then, why is she acting like that!”

“I’m right here, you know,” you pipe up, obviously offended that he’s talking about you in such a manor when you’re three feet away from him.

“Yeah, about that,” Kirishima says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, we were fighting off this villain, right? Well, we were helping the people we evacuated and this dude’s like, ‘Yo, my daughter is still in there. You gotta help her.’ So, we were like, ‘Ight. Bet.’ So, we’re going to find this dude’s daughter and we find her, obviously, because we’re heroes, you know? Anyway, so, we got the kid and we’re leaving and then bad guy shows up out of nowhere! He’s all like ‘gotta snatch those memories for that power,’ and he’s going for the kid, but Y/N throws the kid behind her just in time to save the girl, so that’s the good news. Bad news, she doesn’t remember shit. I’ve been trying to jog her memory since she woke up, but nothing’s working, dude.”

Bakugou turns his attention to you. “Who am I?” He asks.

“A grouchy asshole who came into my hospital room, called me a dumbass, and started yelling at the only person who’s been here for me!”

“My name, smartass,” he snarls.

“How the hell am I supposed to know! Didn’t you hear? I don’t remember.”

“You don’t get to not know me! We’re married! See this?” He snaps, holding up his hand next to yours. “Married. So, you better figure out who I am real fast, princess.”

“Why would I marry you? You’re a complete ass!”

“I said the exact same thing, but you sure as hell didn’t care then, so why do you now!”

“Because I don’t know who you are!” You shout.

The room is filled with eerie silence as it finally sinks in. You really don’t know. You really don’t remember being married to him for the past five years. You don’t remember dating him. You don’t even remember his name.

“Y/N, baby, it’s me. It’s Katsuki.” He scoots closer to you, taking your hands in his, maybe hoping the feeling would ignite some kind of memory. “I’m your Kacchan. Your literal hot-stuff. Come on! Sugar Muffin?”

Kirishima can’t help but snort.

“Die.”

“Listen, I believe you, really, but I just don’t remember.”

“No! You have to. You have to remember, Y/N. You can’t just forget everything that we’ve been through. Everything we’ve planned. We had our whole life planned! You can’t just forget something like that, Y/N!” He begged. The anguish was beginning to wash over him. How could you? How could you just forget about The Plan? You guys were supposed to go to the shelter soon and pick out a dog. The two of you wanted to have a kid within the next few years. You were going to buy your first house outside of the city, so Yuri could grow up in a safer place. Yuri was supposed to have a little sister. They were going to grow up and go to a hero school, just like their parents, if they wanted to.

“Please,” he whispered, squeezing your hands. “You have to remember. I can’t spend the rest of my life knowing that you don’t remember who I am. You’re my everything, Y/N. I mean, just look at these pictures!” He pulls his phone from his pocket and opens his camera roll, going to the saved album that was just pictures of the two of you. “Maybe if you look at how things used to be, you’ll remember. See, there’s us last Christmas. You bought us those stupid reindeer antlers, because you thought they’d make a cute picture for our Christmas card. This one’s from your birthday. We took a hike and had a picnic next to this really pretty lake. I bet that you couldn’t catch five grapes in your mouth. You couldn’t, so I got to throw you in the lake. You ended up getting pneumonia, because I’m a dumbass. We took this one on our anniversary. I took you to the aquarium. I hadn’t seen you that excited in such a long time. You were running around that place like a kid in a candy store. You kept trying to take selfies with the fish. Here’s one of our wedding pictures. You looked so incredible. I really couldn’t believe that I was finally going to be able to call you my wife. Look, there’s Kirishima ruining our perfectly good photo.”

Bakugou probably spent close to two hours scrolling through the photos, telling you a little bit about each one, hoping that you would jump in with some other memory from the day, but he never got that. You just sat there in silence, smiling politely, adding a small ‘That’s nice’ every now and again. But, you just truly didn’t remember and no amount of pictures was going to change that. Bakugou was aware of that, but he wasn’t willing to admit it. He wasn’t willing to admit that every moment, every kiss, every secret shared was now gone from your memory.

He finally stopped. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t keep scrolling through those photos and see you feeling nothing right in front of him. He took your hands, squeezing them in his. Bakugou leaned his forehead against your knuckles. His back rose and fell with shaky breaths. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. That’s what a good husband does. But, I just let this happen to you instead. I’m such a piece of shit…”

“Stop that,” you say. “From everything you told me, you sounded like you were a perfect husband. I’m sorry, okay? I wish I could remember.”

“I just don’t.”

#mha #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #mha imagines #bnha #bnha imagines #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki #angst #imagine #headcannon #fluff #ua #request

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freedom-shamrock · 6 years

Text

Two are Better, But Three is Best

Also on AO3

Heads up, this goes Lukanette pretty quickly and will move toward a Lukadrienette end game. If that bothers you, feel free to skip it.

Marinette jogged up the stairs to the fourth floor of the apartment building. She'd been warned that the elevator was slow and smelled a bit funky, and years of being Ladybug had kept her in good shape, even though Hawk Moth wasn't as active as he'd once been. Her phone chirped with a notification, and she slipped it out of her sling purse to check.

Alya: Grl, you need to get here ASAP. This party's smokin'

Marinette rolled her eyes and handed the phone back to Tikki as she leaned against the fire door for the third floor, pushing it open with her weight. She could already hear the music, something a bit different from Nino's usual repertoire. "Tell her I'm just outside the door."

Tikki giggled. "At least you already know it's going to be worth putting aside your projects for the evening."

"Pfft." Marinette laughed. "We've established that Alya's idea of a good time is not always mine." Her bestie was a total extrovert, and if a party wasn't up to her standards, she was at liberty to drink enough to make it fun. Marinette preferred to stay sober in case her Ladybug skills were needed, which meant she had to see every event without the filter of inebriation. That said, she hadn't seen her friends in too long, and Luka's apartment-warming party was a perfect opportunity to both welcome him home and see her other friends.

Marinette was just reaching for the doorknob when the door swung open, revealing a beaming young man with shaggy shoulder-length black hair. "Marinette!" He lunged forward, but froze short of pulling her into an enthusiastic hug.

"Luka! Welcome home." She stepped closer, helping complete the hug, and giggling when her feet left the floor. "I'm so glad you're back to stay."

"Yeah?" He set her back down, still beaming, and lightly pressed his forehead to hers. "Me too. Especially if it means I'll get to see you on a more regular basis."

She felt the heat in her cheeks and hoped he wouldn't notice. But then, he always did have that effect on her, though she fortunately never lost her ability to speak in full sentences with him. "I hope that's a promise."

"You'd better believe it," he insisted, finally stepping back. "Hey, can I show you around?" He looked excited now, his pretty blue eyes wide.

Marinette nodded. "I'd love to see your new place." She felt her pulse pick up when he caught her hand to gently tug her inside. It was fair to say compass Marinette was turned completely around, and she was fully embracing it.

The apartment was small, but it probably had to be, for him to afford it on his own so soon after university. It felt downright tiny with the sheer number of people crowded into it. She waved to those she knew, their shared friends as well as his friends who she'd met over the years. She saw Nino, Alya and Adrien in the living room, where the music was playing. Juleka and Rose were mixing drinks in the kitchen as they passed through.

"Name your poison, Marinette," Rose called, waving a cup in the air.

"Do you have any juice?" Marinette asked.

Rose looked off to the side for a moment. "Yeah. Pineapple, tomato, and cranberry."

"Pineapple, please," Marinette replied. Trust these two to be running a full bar at a party this size.

"Spiked or…?" Juleka waved a bottle of vodka in the air.

Luka shook his head. "You know Nette doesn't drink, Jules."

"Things can change," Juleka pointed out. "I just like to be open to all options."

"Just the juice, but thanks, Juleka," Marinette said. "I appreciate the thought."

Luka lead her down a short hallway. "Bathroom." He pointed to a closed door. "Portal to Narnia." He pointed to another door.

"Really?" she asked, laughing. "Can we go now?"

He snorted and opened it, showing mostly bare shelves. "Fine. You caught me. It's the linen closet, and I'm shy on linens."

"Well that gives me at least one good idea for a housewarming gift," she said.

"You don't need to get me anything Marinette," he insisted. "Though I'd love it if we could get together, maybe hang out some now." He shot a shy smile over his shoulder at her.

"I'd be terribly disappointed if we didn't do that," she agreed. "But I can still give you a gift. The two things are not mutually exclusive."

He shook his head and pushed open the door at the end of the hall. "And this is my bedroom." He stepped back and waved at it. "I know it's all a bit bare yet, but I think it'll become home soon enough." He had a double bed on a bare frame and a simple dresser. The walls were bare.

She patted his upper arm. "Don't apologize. I can see that this has great potential to really be your place." They'd kept in touch by text and chat, getting together whenever he was in town, and she knew how much it meant to him to have his own place after all the roommates and creative living situations he'd been in over the last five years. She was excited to see him at this point, even if the apartment didn't have his personal touches stamped all over it yet.

He sighed happily. "I knew you'd see that. Most everyone else just focuses on the weird emptiness."

Marinette shook her head. "You finished moving in two days ago. It's not like you've had time to paint or decorate. I'm pretty sure everyone here is on a relatively tight budget… well, not Adrien, but he has his own issues."

Luka snorted. "Nino and I were talking about that while we were setting up his sound gear."

She nodded, well aware of Nino's prediction that Adrien was coming up on a rebellious phase. He was probably right, and she was curious and worried what that would look like. Too many rich kids got messed up with drugs, and she didn't want that for her friend… or anyone, really. "You look so happy, Luka, it's nice to see." She stepped back so she could give him a once over.

He grinned. "And you like what you see?" He held out his arms and posed, arching his eyebrows.

She poked him lightly in the stomach, making him curl in a bit. "You could stand to eat a bit more," she said with a giggle. "But yes." She reached out and caught the ends of his hair. "I kind of miss the color though."

"The end of semester leading up to graduation was a beast, and I didn't have time to do it before this," he said, shrugging, then taking a step closer. "I'm redoing it tomorrow. Probably going to go all out and do my nails while I'm waiting out the bleach."

"I'm free tomorrow if you want help," she offered.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She nodded. "I wouldn't want you to mess up your polish before it sets."

"I'm going to get the feeling that you like me," he warned.

She rolled her eyes. "If you haven't already figured that out, I'd be worried about your brain."

He laughed. "Uhm… Okay, so I'm going to do this, even though I totally swore to myself I'd wait a week. And I don't even get to blame alcohol, because I've only had soda." It was almost like he was talking to himself; his smile was a little nervous and his cheeks had gone pink. "I feel like… and you can disagree if you want, but I feel like we've been kind of dancing around each other for years."

She stared at him, her stomach flipping over in hopeful surprise.

"We have this amazing chemistry, Nette, but there was never a point when we were both on the same page." He met her eyes, his expression almost painful in its earnestness. "We each had our phase of being completely obsessed and distracted by an unfairly hot and painfully oblivious blond guy."

She tamped down on her giggle, but nodded. Adrien could be so stupid for someone so smart.

"We've needed time to focus on our arts, and it just wasn't good timing when I was so far away." He licked his lips and took a deep breath, seeming to gather his courage. "But I need to admit that when I thought about coming home, I was really hoping all that would sort of fall away."

"Are you asking me out?" she asked, reaching for his hand and hoping he could read the happiness off her.

"Yeah." He glanced down at their hands for a moment. "You're so amazing and gorgeous and I've been crazy about you for years." He inched a little closer. "And I really want to kiss you right now." He dipped his head enough to get close, but didn't follow through. "But I'll understand if you aren't--"

She popped up onto her toes, just barely able to brush her lips against his. Still, it was enough to stop his words and answer his question. Before she could lose her balance, his arm slipped around her waist to pull her toward him as he leaned in further. It started gentle, like they were cautiously testing the waters. When she flicked the tip of her tongue against his upper lip, he opened eagerly to her and the kiss suddenly went much hotter and more intense. For a moment, she forgot all about the party going on around them.

When he pulled back, he gave her two gentle kisses before straightening up and opening his eyes. He looked blissfully happy, and it made her feel warm and pleased to be part of that.

"You're adorable," she said, lightly tapping his nose. "And an excellent kisser."

"Marinette!" Alya called rounding the corner into the short hallway. "Where are yoooou?"

Luka laughed, shaking his head. "Best go appease Alya."

Marinette sighed. "Fine. But we'll talk about this..." she gestured between them. "Before I go. Kay?"

Check out chapter 2 >>>

I've been trying to get this assembled for the last two or three weeks, but crazybusy life was not permitting it. Hope to update routinely. Currently no clue on end length.

⁂

If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #My Writing #Marinette #Luka #Adrien #Lukanette #Lukadrienette #Two are Better

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dra-and-sdra2-imagine-writer · 5 years

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Could I have Yuki liking Shinji but he is to shy to confess? Also, Hajime and Mikado are trying to ve the cupid bit it really isnt working at all.

This was a struggle, the first time I had done it didn’t save. And so, I had to redo it, but I hope you enjoy, anon! I started to ship these two because of ya. Yuki spoke quietly with Hajime in private about Shinji. The ginger-haired male was going on and on about the firefighter and it caused the boxer to sweatdropped. “I don’t think you should be telling me this, instead. You should be telling Shinji this, Yuki.” He finished with a small shrug to which the lucky student replied with a flustered expression at the thought. “I-I wouldn’t know what to s-say..! He doesn’t like me like that, Hajime..he only thinks of me as a b-brother..” He replied sadly with a slump of his shoulders. Hajime frowned for a moment through his dark shades, before a small idea popped into mind. “How about, I help you with your confession?” He suggested, which caused Yuki to look up at him with starry eyes that could rival Yuri’s. “You’ll really h-help me..?” He said softly his tone laced with happiness and gratitude as the boxer nodded his head with a small smile. “Yeah, it my job to help out others ya know? Not just with being healthy, but in general. Just be sure not to tell, Mikado..alright?”As if on cue, Mikado had appeared out of thin air. “Don’t tell Mikado what? Mr.Makuounchi?” He asked curiously as he glanced over at the two wondering what they could be talking about. “Nothing!” The two said in synchronization looking at each other with a small nod. That was a high five worthy cover-up, they figured. “Is it what Mr. Maeda has feelings for Mr. Kasai, but he’s afraid to admit them?” Yuki began to stammering since he had been figured out. “W-What?! H-how did you..k-know?!” He squeaked, astonished. Mikado thought for a moment, before smiling slightly. “It’s obvious, Mr.Maeda. We all know, aside from Mr.Kasai, of course. That and with Ms. Nijiue drawing… let us go with the creative art of you both, it would be hard not to tell. That aside, do not fret, I’m here to help you as well.” Yuki looked down, fidgeting with his fingers for a moment before slowly nodding. “T-thank you, both of you..” Yuki smiled kindly at the both of them before he waddled off. Hajime looked at Mikado skeptically, before nodding. “Let’s hope this goes well.” Mikado’s smile grew wider as he replied. “I’m certain Mr.Makuounchi, this will be quite the experience for Mr.Maeda.” Attempt No.1:Yuki was jogging alongside Shinji, but he could hardly keep up with him. He wasn’t much of an athletic person, and his clothing didn’t help with it either. But for the sake of making Shinji happy, he was more than willing to do it. “S-Shinji, can I talk t-to you for a moment..?” He said softly, as he slowed down along with Shinji who smiled nevertheless. “Sure! What did you need to talk about little bro?” Yuki glanced around Shinji for a moment, to see Hajime and Mikado hiding in the bushes and holding up signs for him to read. “I-I just wanted to say..t-that I like..your..hair..?” It sounded more like a question than an answer but nevertheless, he gently ruffled Yuki’s hair in response. “I like your hair too!”’While the two started their jog once again, Hajime glared at Shinji. “Hair?! Why that out of all things!” He hissed in angrily ready to just about punch him. To which Mikado responded with a shrug, ”I thought it would be a suitable comment.”Attempts No. 2-4 didn’t go that much better either. The attempt turned out to bring the others in, rather than gaining the confidence. Yuki was making lunch for himself in Hajime when Setsuka poked her head in with a curious expression. “What’s going on here?” Her eye seemed to have let up when she saw Yuki cooking. After Setsuka, Hibiki and Kanade came in, then Iroha and Nikei, and last but not least, Yuri. While that one didn’t go exactly as planned, he got to know his classmates more and more. Attempt three and four went hand in hand, that plan was to make Shinji fall I love in love with Yuki, and apparently, Mikado took the Cupid thing a bit to literally. Since he brought a bow and arrow and tried to shoot Shinji with it. Though Hajime stopped him, and he ended up hitting Yuki with the arrow. Needless to say, Yuki didn’t feel so well once it was all over. Yuki slowly walked up to the two with a small frown on his face. “Y-you two haven’t helped! Just..have made things worse!” He claimed and gestured at his wounded hand. Hajime did feel guilty since he wasn’t able to uphold his promise. “Yuki, I’m sorry, but I-“ Yuki had cut him off right there. “Don’t,..please. Thank you both for your help, but..I’ll does this..myself..” He said softly before turning and started to walk away. Hajime sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We really messed up this time..” He uttered, glancing over at Mikado who seemed to plan something. “What are you doing..?” In return, Mikado chuckled. “Don’t worry, this shall be our last attempt. Just follow my lead, Mr. Makuounchi.” Yuki walked down a small path holding his head down and sighed softly. Trying to figure out what he was going to do until he noticed some stringed lights. Confused, the lucky student started to make his way over to it. Where he noticed a campfire that was set up with some food and decorations all around. Going over, he took a seat on a log near the fire and stared into it, just getting lost in his thoughts. Until he heard a certain males voice, turning to look over his shoulder, he saw Shinji. “S-Shinji?!” He squeaked. Shinji just looked confused as he took a seat beside Yuki. “What’s up, little bro? You left a note on my door saying to need to talk about something urgent?” Yuki was at a small loss for words, but he sucked in a small breath before he started speaking. “I-I ..wanted to tell you t-that…I like you..! Because..you’re awesome and kind to everyone no matter what..and you always seem to be having a g-good time wherever you go..” Yuki confessed before looking away in fear of rejection. But he was soon brought into a bone crushing hug as well as a loud laugh. Yuki turned back to Shinji and smiled slightly albeit, he was nervous to do so but he did. “I’m glad you confessed! That’s something a real man does!” He exclaimed before gently setting him back down. “I..feel the same way about you, Yuki!” He grinned excitedly afterward. The two would then hug each other once more. In the nearby bushes, Hajime and Mikado fist-bumped each other. “Best Cupid’s.”

#sdra2 #yuki maeda #hajime makunouchi #mikado sannoji #shinji kasai #yuri kagarin #nikei yomiuri #iroha nijiue #hibiki otonokoji #kanade otonokoji #setsuka chiebukuro #Cupid bros #take two

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millicent231-watt · 5 years

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(AoT Scenario) When He Saves You

A/N: Got a request or idea? Leave it below in the comments.

Requested by juneshur90 on Wattpad

Eren

"Ha! Take that you big, ugly Titan!" I yell triumphantly as the Titan falls to the ground and begins to evaporate. "Y/N! Watch out!" I hear one of my friends say after I landed on a roof. "Look out for wha-" My sentence was cut off when I froze in place, stuck with fear. A Titan was sitting right in front of me, smiling menacingly at its next meal, which also happened to be me. "This is my last stop..." I mumble to myself as I fell to my knees. "I'm gonna die..." I mutter before I was picked up by the Titan. I felt a few of my bones snap, or beginning to, but it only rose tears to my eyes. I was ready for my fate. I accepted it. I gave no resistance. If me being eaten meant that it bought the village a few seconds extra to evacuate, then so be it. "Please god...make my death quick and painless." I pray before my hearing begins to be replaced with ringing. The last things I heard clearly were someone calling out my name and a crack of lightning before a loud roar. "Eren..." I say with a soft but weak smile as thundering footsteps quickly approached. A loud roar echoed through the city before the Titans arm was ripped off. The arm that was holding me. I was held close to Eren's Titan form as he pummelled the other Titan into the ground with a single punch. He roared again and opened up the Titans hand. He purrs softly as I wince in pain of my legs moving. "Eren..." I say with a smile, to which he purrs. "Thank you." I say, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he bought me to his face. "P...Protect...you..." He manages to say, making me smile at the fact that he spoke as a Titan for the first time.

Armin

I crouch down and cower in fear, gripping the necklace Armin have me for my birthday. "Please...." I beg. My horse had bucked me off and left me to die. "I don't wanna die like this..." I whimper to myself as a distant thumping could be heard, shaking the ground beneath us. "I want to see the world...I want to tell Armin I love him!" I scream in emotional agony, which was a horrendous idea. The thumping stopped but slowly started to make its way towards me instead of past me, which is what it was doing originally. "I have so much to see, say and do. I'm too young to die. I have a whole life ahead of me!" I cry before hearing my name being called. I turn my head and see Armin galloping towards me on his horse. I smile and stand up shakily. "Y/N Get on!" He says as he stops, allowing me to quickly get in and wrap my arm around him to hold on. "Thank you! I thought I was dead for sure." I sniffle as we headed back to the group. "It's nothing Y/N. Like you said, you've got a whole life ahead of you and I'd like you to spend, at least most of, it with me." He says with a smile and a slight blush. "I'd like that too." I say as I rest my head on his back and smile. "I love you Armin." I say and h chuckles. "Not as much as I love you Y/N."

Jean

"Shit...Come on!" I whisper as I kneel in an alleyway, trying to fix my gear, which had somehow managed to break while I was mid-air. I was fine though, only sore is all. I drop my blades as a ground rumbling thud came from in front of me. I look up horrified and gasp as I see a Titan staring down at me with that nightmare-fuelling smile. "No...." I whimper as it took a step closer. I tried to at least fire myself up to a roof or something, but I had run out of fuel as well. So even if I did fix my gear, my fuel was gone, so I was stuck either way. I threw my gear to the ground and clasped my hands together, beginning to pray to any god, superhero or entity I could think of. "Please for the love of...don't let me die like this!" But my prayers were cut off by another thud. I quickly stand up and begin running. It wasn't much, considering how much smaller I was compared to this Titan, but it bought me sometime. "HELP! JEAN! SOMEONE! PLEASE!" I scream as loud as I could, maybe even louder. I skidded to a stop as I turned another corner. "A dead end! Are you fucking kidding me!" I yell angrily, before and other thud made me jump. I crouch down in fear and put my hands over my head, pulling it between my knees. I begin screaming for help and just screaming in general. I barely hear the whirring of 3DM Gear before I was picked off the ground. "Connie, kill that Titan while it's not looking!" My saviour yells. "Jean!" I say happily as I look up at 'my saviour'. "What? You think I was just going to ignore you screaming my name?" He jokes and I chuckle. "What happened? Why were you running?" He asks as we land near the refuelling station with the other soldiers. "My gear broke. Then I tried to just get on a roof or something when the Titan walked the corner, but I was outta gas." I pout as everyone began to cheer in celebration of the mission end. "Well, you're lucky I was there." He says before hugging me and making me smile. "I know. I love you." I say before kissing him.

Erwin

"Erwin!" I scream as I was grabbed by a titan. "Levi, go get her. You're the most skilled, so make sure she doesn't die." I hear him say before I scream in pain as the Titan bit down on my stomach slightly, causing blood to gush out of me like lava from an erupting volcano. Suddenly the flash of green came into view. I was dropped once the titan was killed and caught mid-air by the man himself. "Captain..." I murmur in surprise causing him to click his tongue. "Tch, be more careful, cadet. You could have died, and if you did, I would never hear the end of it from eyebrows." He says, making me chuckle before he set me down. "Y/N!" I hear Erwin yell as he ran over with Hange. "Hange, can you fix her?" He asks desperately as he applied pressure to my bleeding wound, even though it was much too large to cover fully with his hands. "I...I think so." She says as she grabs her things from the first-aid pack on her horse. "Please be gentle Hange...It really hurts." I say and she sighs. "I'll try to be gentle Y/N, but it's gonna hurt no matter what." She says before pouring some alcohol on the wound, making me scream and cry in agony. "Tch, she'll attract more Titans if we aren't careful." Levi says as he begins to look around cautiously. "I...I'm sorry Y/N!" Hange says in panic as I cry and my legs begin to spasm slightly from the pain. "J...just keep going." I say, clutching onto Erwins hand tightly. "O...Okay." She says before grabbing a needle and thread and a syringe. She begins to numb the area and it fucking hurt like shit. Unknowing to most people, it's not the stitching up that hurts, it's the fucking needle to numb the area that hurts. "You're doing good Y/N. Just focus on me, you're turning pale." Erwin says as I look up at him with heavy eyes. "I...I love you." I say, just incase it was my last time saying it. He smiles softly and squeezes my hand slightly. "I love you too." He says. "Alright, keep breathing Y/N. I just need to stitch it up and bandage it no-" Hange was cut off by a thumping. "Tch, hurry up and tend to her four-eyes. I'll clear the titans." Levi says before flying off. "Shit..." Hange says before she begins to stitch up the wound. "Erwin. If Levi can't hold off the Titans, I want you and everyone else to get out of here, alright?" I say and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that." He says with a slight loving smile. "Shit, shit, shit...fuck." Hange begins to mumble to herself as she gets nervous. "You're doing good Hange. We can redo it at HQ if need be." I say and she smiles before a snip is heard. "Alright. It's a hasty job, but it'll do till we get back to HQ. I can properly sew her up then." Hange says as she begins to bandage me up and load me onto her horse. "Levi! Let's go!" Erwin yells an soon Levi comes flying down and jumps on his horse, which I'm still amazed he can get on considering his height. "We're clear." He says before Hange hops on her horse with my sitting in front of her. "We're going back to HQ." Erwin says before we heard off.

Time Skip

"How is she?" I hear someone ask as they walk into the infirmary. "She's doing good. No need to worry about loosing her." Hange says before leading the man here. "Hey, Erwin." I say tiredly before Hange gives us some time alone. "Hey, little bird." He says with a soft smile. "Sorry I couldn't save you." He says as he sits on the edge of the bed and looks at my wound, which had started to heal. "What're you talking about? Of course, you saved me. You gave Levi the order to help me because you were positive that he would bring me back alive. As much as a friend Levi is, he probably wouldn't have saved me without an order." I say with a sympathetic smile. "I guess." He says before I put my palm to his cheek. "Thank you Erwin." I say and he smiles. "Don't mention it Y/N." He says before kissing me softly on the forehead.

Levi

"Tch, I told Erwin not to put you on the attacking team." I hiss as Y/N lay on my bed in front of me. She was alive, barely, but critically injured during the attack on the female Titan.

FLASHBACK

"Y/N! I yell out as I see her fly past and turn to face the Female Titan. I gasped as I saw her eyes go wide and time seemed to slow down. I reacted almost instantly as the female Titan bought up her hand, grabbed Y/N and threw her to the side towards a tree. Luckily I reacted quickly and managed to catch Y/N mid air after shooting my grapple to the tree. Somewhere between the female Titan and me catching her, Y/N seemed to pass out. "Eld, take charge and carry the team! Petra, carry a message up to Erwin of where I have gone and what has happened!" I yell and they nod as I call for my horse so I could ride Y/N back to HQ.

FLASHBACK END

Now, here I was. Sitting and waiting for my team to come back alive and for Y/N to wake up at all. Once she began to stir, I sighed in relief. She was alive at least. I then grew concerned though, as her eyebrows furrowed and she began to mumble and moan slightly in her sleep. Not a sexual moan either, a painful one. "No, Levi....n...not you..." She mumbled. "Don't...die..." She groaned as her breathing quickened and I saw tears forming in her eyes. She was having a nightmare about me dying...again. I sigh sadly and grab her hand, almost instantly calming her down. She soon groaned once more before stretching and opening her eyes. "Levi?" She asks in a tired voice. "I'm here Y/N. You're alright." I say with a ghost of a smile. "Am I dead?" She asks and I chuckle, shaking my head. "No. You're never going to die if I'm around." I say and she smiles. "Did you save me?" She asks, and I answer once more with a nod. "Thank you. I love you." She says, hugging me tightly. "I love you too."

#aot #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan scenario #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #Eren Jaeger #Erwin Smith #armin arlert #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein

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pottercrew · 6 years

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WIP reveal

Hey so here is the first WIP post I’m gonna share with you guys I haven’t reached 5k yet I’m so nervous to share these but I feel like it will help a lot to see people responding to them aha, please ignore a lot of the grammar and spelling mistakes they are still WIPs and haven’t been edited like my normal stuff.

@pleease-love-me @drarryruinedme7 @unicornslothfish :thank you all for encouraging me to post this!!

First up is the continuation the Angry-pirate drabble I wrote a while ago

He slammed the door shut behind him and leant against it. He had been and still was not in any condition to see fucking Malfoy of all people. Especially a tied up and angry Malfoy in his brig. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, untying the hair tie and redoing it. Malfoy, fucking Malfoy was in his brig and he’d just admitted that he didn’t want the bastard to die. He was a fucking fool.

They had been at each other’s throats since they met each other, all the way back to their school days. But it had gotten worse after Harry had left, now, they both had duties to kill each other at the least. They were enemies, by law, with Harry being one of the most ‘notorious’ pirate captains and Malfoy being the youngest admiral in the Queen’s navy. No matter the relationship they had had in the past, things had changed now.

He could hear his men’s boots above him and he pushed himself off of the door and headed up the stairs. He had a ship to run, he would worry about Malfoy later.

“Fuck you Potter” Malfoy hissed into the darkness of his cell. He realised he was still rubbing his wrists and dropped them, the pain was barely noticeable at this point and scoffed. The captain of this ship was an idiot, he always had been. To unshackle a prisoner, what a waste of kindness.

And that kindness hurt most of all, and Draco hated Potter for it. It was a reminder of the boy he had fallen for when they were young, making his job harder. If only Potter would just be the ruthless killer and criminal people had told him he was and Draco would have no problem running him through. Of course, he would have felt bad, but he still would have done it, because it was for his country, his queen and family. He still would, when the time came, but now, with this Potter and the Potter from the past colliding, he knew it would split part of him to do it now. Stupid fucking Potter putting his and his mother’s lives at risk.

If he failed in this, if he let this high profile target live, he would lose his job and therefore the money and protection it gave his mother. Yes, they came from old money, but his father had foolish gambled it away to the queen, and she had used it as leverage with them for years. If he failed at this it would all be lost. The money the queen still let them have would stop and the properties they owned would go to the state, nothing would be left. Draco couldn’t let that happen. His mother was too frail to live on the streets, she wouldn’t survive.

He had to kill Harry Potter, no matter what.

One of the crew did come down like Potter had said to bring him clothes and food. The man was tall, taller than Draco himself but he was skinny and he seemed awkward with his long arms an long legs. The clothes were similar. Too long and too baggy but Draco had been in worse, he would deal with it. He downed the mug of water and ate the three slices of stale bread slowly, making them last.

Ahhh I really want to continue this one cause I love the pirate theme and have some ideas I really want to do, but every time I open this one up I just get so stuck on what to write next.

So this next one is a kink fic I’ve been writing for like a year/ two years now and I really want to finish it but I’m so shy aha (NSFW):

Harry rolled his neck as he stood up from his desk. He hated days like these, they did nothing but make it painfully obvious that he and Malfoy were relegated to desk work, no matter how much Robbards denied they were. The completed stack of paperwork on Harry’s desk made it hard to believe.

“Thank fuck that’s done” He sighed, stretching his back until it made a satisfying noise. He wasn’t used to this, sitting in his desk chair for hours on end filling in reports after reports, back stiffening and legs becoming numb. It left an itch under his skin that wasn’t being helped by Draco on the other side of the room.

“If I ever see Hawkes handwriting again I’m going to hex myself” Draco drawled, leaning back in his chair. It shouldn’t have to affect that it did on Harry but it did, the look of Draco reclining in his chair, legs spread under his desk, shirt and slacks hugging every curve.

Harry busied himself with his robes, pulling them from the back of the chair and sliding them on. When they were out on the field, chasing or being chased, it wasn’t an issue. The could ignore the slithers of attraction he felt towards his partner and if he couldn’t, it was easy enough to blame it on an adrenaline high.

He couldn’t in the office, because Draco always took his robes off in the office. He couldn’t when they were out in the field, it was against protocol, but here, in their cramped beige-walled office, Draco threw his robes off the first chance he got. Draco, who wore sinfully tight shirts and slacks to work that had Harry’s eyes involuntarily drifting to his legs, arse, chest, arms, shoulder, whatever chance they got. It was painfully unfair and distracting. The numerous scribbles on the reports he signed would attest to that.

One would think that being partners for seven years would have made Harry used to seeing Draco like that. It didn’t, in fact, it made it worse. Because not only did Harry find the way Draco looked distracting, but he also found Draco himself distracting. It was fucked, he was fucked. Draco was funny, witty, charming and met Harry’s sarcastic humour head on. He treated him like a normal fucking human being and not the Chosen One or whatever the papers were still calling him. He made him feel normal, and that was what he had always wanted. Not only that, Draco was smart as hell and someone he considered a friend.

Well, a work friend. They had made boundaries when it came to their friendship, which was a smart thing to do when your actual friends hated the sight of the other. They never went out after work times. Ever. They ate out for lunch, sometimes had a drink if they knew they were going to stuck in the office. They walked to the pastry shop just outside the ministry on breaks together. But that was it.

Harry felt the itch flare up under his skin as Draco stood up and faced the board on the wall, back to him. Draco was fucking beautiful and Harry was truly fucked. He knew what it was though. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t even a crush he had on his partner. no, it was pure lust and Harry was grown up enough to stamp it down when it became too much. But after being cooped up in the office for the last week it was becoming too much.

He needed a distraction, and he knew exactly where to go. It had been a while since he went there, work becoming too busy, him becoming too lazy. But every time he thought of going there, the excitement that shot through his blood was getting hard to deny. He needed it.

“If I see Hawkes I’ll hex myself” Harry replied, trying to pry his wand from under the last stack he had finished.

Draco snorted and Harry felt his lips twitch. “If he brings more paperwork in before we leave I’ll help you hide the body”

Harry laughed at that “Promises Draco”.

Draco snorted again and pinned a sheet to the board, the movement causing him to stretch. Harry got his wand free and cast in time to stop the stack from tipping over. He looked over to Draco’s desk.

“Why does your stack always look smaller than mine?” He asked exasperatedly as he took in the number of papers neatly stacked on his partner's desk.

“Becuase unlike you, I send mine when I’m done, something you could do if you didn’t snap the tray last week”

“Yeah well if admin did a better job of sorting out what comes in here I wouldn’t have” Harry muttered darkly, remembering the howlers that had sat on his desk.

“I told you, you should put a complaint in” Draco hummed, writing something on the board next to the sheet he had pinned up.

“It wouldn’t do anything seeing as it would go through them anyway” Harry sighed, not looking at the way Draco’s broad shoulders moved “and anyway, I’ll just use your tray”

Draco looked at him before rolling his eyes “No you will not, I’ve sent in a request for a new one, I will not have your chicken scrawled reports filling up my sent inventory”

“Some partner you are” Harry muttered jokingly and he ducked as the whiteboard pen shot at his head. “See you Monday Draco” He called as he left through the door, a distracted fuck you following him as he went.

He had a call to make.

Harry didn’t feel nervous as he stepped into the dark marble foyer, he had spent years coming here after all.

The receptionist smiled as he walked towards him “Welcome back Mister Potter, your room is waiting for you”

Harry smiled and took the key with the room number on it with a thank you before turning to head down the long corridor behind a deep emerald curtain. He didn’t need to be shown where to go.

His blood was pumping through him as he walked closer and closer to his room, the base from the club in the centre of the building thrumming through the walls. It had been too long.

His room was set up exactly how he asked for it to be and he shivered at the sight of it. He knew what he needed tonight, knew exactly how to take it and he would. The large floor to ceiling mirror on the right side of the room caught his attention and he watched himself walk towards it, running a hand through his hair that he had left untied. He had his hair ties wrapped around his wrist if the night called for him to tie it up. He hoped he didn’t look a mess. He thought he didn’t but you could never tell with his hair. Maybe Draco’s constant ribbing about it was getting to him?

He shook himself, now was not the time to think about his partner, it would do him no good here. He was here to forget about his obsession, to forget about everything if he was honest. It had been so long since he had lost himself in one of these rooms, lost in the touch of a man he would never see again and that was the point. Everyone here came for the same reasons. To lose themselves to someone else for the night in a safe place with set rules.

He walked to the fridge in the far left of the room and pulled out a water bottle. He turned and leant against the counter, looking at the mirror. Should he undo a few more buttons? He had picked his tightest shirt and he did think he looked rather fit if he said so himself. As he was playing with the decision to undo them or not, the sound of a key sliding into the door had him put the water bottle down.

He pulled out his own key and put it next to him, button facing up, just in case.

He held his breath when the door began to swing open, only to let it all out in an undignified noise as he saw who was stepping into the room.

Draco fucking Malfoy froze as he saw Harry leaning against the counter, hand on the door handle, key in his other.

Holy fucking shit.

They stood there facing each other, neither looking away from the other. Draco hadn’t moved from the door and Harry hadn’t moved from his place. He felt his face heat and his hands' twitch why the fuck was Draco here? This was his place, a place he had found to escape for the last eight years.

He stood up straight, feeling angry, did Draco follow him here? He couldn’t have. This was a mess. Out of all the people he was paired with tonight, out of the dozens of men here tonight, it was Draco. Someone was fucking with them, they had to be.

Draco let go of the door handle, face losing its shock and a mask falling into place.

“Potter” Harry heard the uncertainty behind his voice and his thoughts were confirmed. Draco was a regular. Rule one was last names only. Draco knew that. Harry was fucked, he was turned on already it wasn’t fucking fair. Draco was dressed in a black suit that somehow was tighter than the one he was wearing to work. The three-piece suit looked like sin on his tall broad frame and Harry couldn’t help but stare.

“M-Malfoy” Harry hated how he stuttered but he couldn’t help it. The man who he had found himself thinking about since Hogwarts was standing in the doorway to his fucking sex room. What was he supposed to do? They shouldn’t see each other here, they worked together, it was too risky. Thoughts of Draco coming here were already plaguing Harry’s mind.

Draco sighed, a deep noise and he held up his key, button facing Harry.

“Should we cancel this?” The fact that Draco was asking, instead of just doing had Harry pause. Did he want this? From the way his eyes followed any movement that Harry made, Harry thought there was something there. But there couldn’t possibly be, right? Fuck Draco was waiting for him to answer. He really wanted Draco to stay, really wanted him to do all the things this room screamed out that he wanted. From the silk straps hanging from the ceiling right in front of the mirror and another set over the bed. The numerous blindfolds and gags laid out on the table in the centre of the room.

Harry felt his face heat as he took in the room and found Draco’s eyes pinned on him when he looked back. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Potter do-”

“No!” Harry cut in and clenched his jaw shut. He couldn’t believe he said that, but he panicked, he didn’t want Draco to leave. He should make him but this, this is something he couldn’t say no to, even though he knew full well he should. “But if you want to then, you can leave”

Draco stared at him, mouth slightly open and Harry was scared he’d leave, but part of him hoped he did, because he didn’t know if he could control himself if he stayed. Draco stood up straight and, looking Harry straight in the eyes, closed the door behind himself, sealing them in the room.

Harry couldn’t breathe.

“You know the rules don’t you Potter?” Draco- no Malfoy drawled. It was important that Harry make that distinction right now. If he was to keep this separate, he needed to keep them distant. Harry felt himself smirk.

“I’ve been coming here for the past eight years Malfoy I know the rules” He lingered on his name and he saw Malfoy bite his lip. It sounded like school again. Fuck.

“Good” Malfoy replied and Harry watched, hands gripping the counter behind him as Malfoy started rolling up his sleeves. Harry loved it when Malfoy did that in the office, but here, now, it felt so much different, signalled so much more. “I don’t feel like hand-holding so you better keep up”

“Fuck you” Harry all but moaned.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him and it sent a thrill down Harry’s spine. It made him smirk back, the sexy fucking bastard, looking like the haughtiest thing on the planet. Harry wanted to wipe that look off his face.

This is for the same fic but the notes I’ve written for it to add and expand when I come back to it:

There was Harry and Draco, and then there was Malfoy and Potter

Harry’s hands were above his head, wrapped in silk, his body naked and arched, free for Malfoy’s gaze. The glass was cold against his heated front, but it didn't stop the erection he had.

He moaned as he felt Malfoy's warm hand trail up his thigh.

“Do you know how long I've pictured you like this Potter? Naked and tied before me?”

“You’re doing so good Potter” Malfoy reassured, sending spikes of lust shooting through Harry. “You’re taking my cock so fucking well”

“fuuck” Harry flung his head back, tongue swiping against the gag in his mouth.

Malfoy wrapped his hands around Harry’s suspended arms, fucking into him as deeply as he could. “Can you hear that Potter? The sound your arse makes as I fuck it? Merlin you’re so good, so tight and hot” Malfoy breathed in his ear, all Harry could do was take it. “Answer me, Potter”

“Y-yes” Harry gasp the word out, as Malfoy thrust in deeper and harder than he had before.

It has never been like this, not with other men, he would never let them treat him like this. But Malfoy was different, Malfoy and Malfoy and he knew exactly what that meant for his body and mind.

Harry wanted nothing more than to launch himself over Draco's desk and feel those hideously talented fingers on him. But he stamped the feeling down, Draco has said nothing about it so Harry wouldn't either. It had been a one-time thing, a night in a place neither of them would be happy about the public knowing they went to. It had been a blip, a secret exciting thing, that would never happen again. No matter how much Harry wanted it to.

Fucking and getting fucked by Draco would be a whole other thing than fucking and getting fucked by Malfoy, Harry knew that. Malfoy was a one time amazing fuck that would give him memories for the rest of his life. Draco was his auror partner and colleague, someone who was responsible for his safety on the field as well as Harry was for his.

“I need to know, if there is more than just lust and sex between us! I can't do this anymore if there's nothing there, I can't do it to myself”

Harry clenched his teeth as Draco leant against his desk, reading their brief. He tried not to look, but it was too fucking difficult. Malfoy’s arse was right there, wrapped in trousers that should be banned from the workplace. It was obscene and so fucking sexy that Harry gripped his pen tightly, fucking bastard. There was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose.

Harry’s hands were above his head, wrapped in silk, his body naked and arched, free for Malfoy’s gaze. The glass was cold against his heated front, but it didn't stop the erection he had. In fact, every brush against the glass sent shivers of sensation through his body. He'd never been more turned on in his life.

He moaned as he felt Malfoy's warm hand trail up his thigh.

“Do you know what you look like? Naked and tied before me?”

Harry shook his head, knowing Malfoy wanted him to respond but the feeling of Draco's front pressed against his back was far too distracting, the feeling of his fully clothed body on his naked one had him shivering. This had got to be the most intense encounter he had had here. That was saying a lot but the pure apprehension, lust and pent up frustration were getting to him. This was Malfoy for fuck sake. Malfoy who he, as a teenager, had jacked off to far too many times for it to be a coincidence. Fuck.

Malfoy moved closer, his clothed body pushing Harry's flushed naked one against the cold glass and Harry gasped at the feeling against his dick. He could only imagine what he looked like and he was glad the glass was only one-sided. The thrill of being up against the glass sparked something in his brain, it gave the illusion of being watched, not that they were but it sent the right feelings around his body. He felt dirty, helpless vulnerable and he fucking loved it.

He pulled on the restraints, the silk sliding against his wrists, but his movement was stopped by Malfoy's fingers wrapping around both of them. The movement caused Malfoy to push further against him and Harry moaned aloud as he felt the erection in Malfoy's trousers press against his arse.

Malfoy's hands were tight, unyielding "Stop moving" Harry went rigid at the authoritative tone. He didn't know if Malfoy had snapped yet, the tension he could feel in the body behind him was obvious but he knew Malfoy had more to offer, he wanted to break him so Malfoy could break him right back. He wanted all Malfoy could give and he had never been a patient person.

He pulled on the restraints again and bucked back, eyes rolling at the feel of that hard erection on his ass. He heard Malfoy hiss and he found himself shoved hard against the glass, a hand in his hair and a mouth on his neck. Malfoy bit down and Harry howled through his gag, eyes screwed shut behind his blindfold. Malfoy was ruthless, teeth harsh against his neck, no tongue used to sooth the pain. Harry felt his precum smear against the glass.

Malfoy lifted his head, and Harry wished he could see those grey eyes right now. Would they be mad? Would they be simmering with anger or lust? Harry wanted to find out, but the blindfold stayed in place.

"Stay still" Malfoy said in the same harsh tone, voice commanding and Harry was so tempted to push back again, so fucking tempted to push Malfoy further but he stayed still. He wanted to see what Malfoy was going to do. If he didn't like it, he'd push Malfoy so far the other man would lose control. He felt his lips turn up at that.

"You look so good like this Potter" Malfoy breathed in his ear and Harry saw white, he felt his cheeks heat and his hips roll. Of all the things Malfoy could do to him, praising was the last thing Harry wanted him to do. It was too much, he knew he loved praise, could even call it a kink and he didn't need Malfoy knowing that. It wasn't something he liked to share. People already thought he got enough praise, it made him seem spoilt, greedy. But the little breathless laugh he felt as his ear told him that Malfoy had noticed it.

"Do you like that Potter? Me praising you?" Malfoy crooned in his ear accompanied by a warm hand sliding in between his thighs. It pushed at his left leg, making him move it out, then did the same to his right until his legs were shoulder width apart, his back bowed slightly and arse pushed up against Malfoy's groin. Harry moaned.

"Tell me" He thrust forwards.

"I-fuck-yes" Harry stuttered out, mind focusing on nothing else but the hard length he could feel in Malfoy's trousers.

"Well done" Malfoy praised, he let go of Harry's hair and Harry's head sagged forwards. Malfoy's free hand now slid down his neck, to stop between his shoulder blades.

Ahhh I really love this one and really want to get it done and show you guys but again I really struggle with keeping up writing.

Anyway I hope you liked these two WIPs, I will post more I just didn’t want this post getting too long aha xxx

#drarry #WIPs #fanfic WIPs #drarry fanfic #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Harry James Potter

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