“i think me driving you around town getting jean drumsticks was a good start,” porco tells you. he pours you a glass of wine. “i just, uh… was a bit worried about you during your tour.”

you take out the chopping board and a knife as you listen to him. “oh, thank you, porco, really. i appreciate it,” you hum out, “by the way, what are we making?”

“i actually have no idea,” he mumbles back to you, “i just bought some random things. i saw some pasta thing online.”

you smile at him with upturned brows. “no plan, huh? c’mon, porco, you plan a date and can’t be bothered picking something out?” you joke along with him as you hand him an apron. you tie one on yourself and wait for him to do so as well.

“okay, well, i—i’m not a chef, so i didn’t know,” he grumbles out with knitted brows, “you got somethin’ in mind?”

“yes, everyone knows how to make a simple pasta and protein,” you chuckle back as you turn on your speakers to play some music, “can you dice onion, please? be careful.”

“okay, i’m not some—”

“don’t swing that knife around, porco!” you step back and reprimand. he puts it down on the chopping board sheepishly. “y’know what, i’ll chop everything and you can just, uh… provide support.”

he sits back against the kitchen bench with a pout as you cut the vegetables. he watches you though, a bit happy that you were acting as normal as you could. porco crosses his arms over his chest as he listens to the music. you seemed calm.

when you begin to cook the garlic and onion on the pan and stir with a wooden spoon, you freeze up in your spot when you feel porco’s hands on your waist. you lose your train of thought and mumble off into nothing as he steps forward.

“you okay?” he asks you against your ear. his chin rests on your shoulder and he can feel you shiver. “you were saying something?”

“i… the, uh, the tour went really well,” you swallow your nerves before you put in the tomato paste, “fans really liked it and we, um, we had plenty of encores. i ended up—your hands are…”

they’re planted on your hips tightly. you can feel how his fingers dance across the apron, his chest pressed gently against your back.

“hm?” he asks, “is this alright?”

“y’know, i would’ve head butted you if you tried this back at the jaeger’s holiday house,” you state as you stir the pan, “you’re lucky.”

“yeah?” he hums, “you like me now?”

you don’t respond to that; instead, you point to the fridge. “can you pass me the heavy cream?”

he lets out a short sigh before he pulls away from you. but you shift a little as porco keeps a finger looped in your apron strap. he opens the fridge with one hand and uses his knee to block the fridge door as he reaches for the cream.

“are you serious right now?” you let out a laugh as he sinks back next to you, “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” he replies as he looks down, “i wanted to apologise for everything, by the way. i… pretty much made all this drama happen between us. put you in a pretty shitty position.”

you stare at him wildly before you shake your head. “it’s okay, porco. i mean, every celebrity’s gotta’ deal with something. that, for me, is you. i’m sorry too, i can be pretty childish.”

“that’s for sure,” you jab his shoulder at that. he rubs his arm as he smiles. “so, what will happen between us?”

you glance at him as he opens up the cream. “well, we can’t go public yet, obviously. i’m fine with us just seeing each other in private, if that’s okay. or hiding our faces when we meet up.”

“that sounds good,” he tells you as he leans against the marble bench, “we’ll be extra careful.”

“of course,” you hum back, “you were never a three, by the way. i just said that to piss you off.”

“what about that other drummer? is he still your favourite?” porco questions with a tilt of his head.

“yes, i like the tricks he does with the drumsticks—”

“you’re such an asshole,” he scoffs as he drags you closer to him with one hand on your hip. he watches you smile at him before he’s leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “let’s just start over.”

you return the kiss to his cheek before going back to cooking. “alright. but if you bug me about my stage presence again i will kick you out of my house.”

his laughter fills the air as you two move about in the kitchen.

track 32 | track list | track 34

anime: attack on titan

character: porco galliard (band! au)

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

you offered to switch with someone else like kobeni or arai, but both of them sourly refused, as they didn't want to spend more time with the devil who prolonged their mission by two more hours for being stupid and messing around.

"ugh, i can do it myself!" denji groans as you wipe away at the cuts on his arm. the antibacterial wipes seemed to be working well so you ignore his pleas. "y/n! you're not even listening to me!"

"can you just shut up for a second? you love to hear yourself speak." you grumble out as you discard the red tissue in the bin beside you.

you regret even letting denji step foot in your apartment, but per kishibe's orders, you had to take care of him before sending him back to aki.

“y/n, you’re so mean,” he grumbles back to you as you pop open a spray bottle of disinfectant, “could ya’ stand to be nice for once?”

“could you stand to not die every single mission?” you scoff at him, “god, you make my job so much harder. ultimate devil chainsaw man, bleeding out in the bathtub.”

he looks away from you with an angered expression before you spray his cuts. he jolts and you narrowly evade his elbow as he hisses at you.

“you act all high ‘n mighty and you can’t even deal with some first aid,” you groan as you toss the disinfectant back into the box, “i don’t get what makima sees in you.”

“i could say the same about you!” he yells back with an accusing finger, “you think you can just show up n’ be the best!”

“i was here before you!” you argue back.

“nuh uh!”

“yuh huh!”

he grits his teeth as he forcefully looks away. you roll your eyes at him as you press the bandaid to his wound.

you didn’t really know when you started disliking denji, but you think it was around the time he saved meowy to cop a feel. your opinion of him went down when you stood next to aki while he called upon his devil to dispose if the enemy. the whole entire time you were deadpanning with your weapon in hand.

denji decided he didn’t like you because you were always getting praised by makima. she pat your head once and he got even more jealous when he saw that you looked embarrassed and irritated. you didn’t deserve it, he thought.

however, everyone else was just a little confused. why would you two hate each other? you never interact unless it’s to insult the other.

“drink that,” you sigh at him and hand him a glass of water and medicine, “i don’t want to see any dirt on my floors. clean up your mess before you go.”

leaving him in the kitchen, you go back to the bathroom. he reluctantly chomps down on the medicine and gulps down the water. his face sours before he hears you let out a hiss of pain.

peeking into the bathroom, he sees you with your back to the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the slash the devil made on your skin. you let put a groan and drop your tissue in the bin. denji scans you in your tank top, how your muscles move with your hand as you try to wipe away all the dried blood on your shoulder. you din’t even notice denji watching until he clears his throat.

“you, uh…” he begins. you glance over to the doorway. “need help?”

“from you?”

“who else, dumbass?”

“don’t get quick with me, smartass…” you grunt towards him.

you think about it. you’ve seen denji try to patch up aki, and it looked like he didn’t know half of what he was supposed to be doing. though, you’re too embarrassed to call up aki or himeno to help. so you roll your eyes and nod your head.

denji makes his way over and you face the mirror, hands bracing the sink as he grabs an antiseptic tissue for medical use and presses a bit too harsh against your cut.

“ow!” you hiss and lean away from him, “denji—!”

“my bad,” he mutters out before gently wiping at the dark blood, “sorry.”

“‘s fine,” you reply shortly. you hang your head with your button up and jacket slung on the bathtub. your grey tank top was drenched on the shoulder and upper back areas. “what are you guys havin’ for dinner?”

“i dunno’,” denji responds with a shrug of his shoulders. he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection of the mirror. “aki said he’d call you when he can pick me up.”

you sigh and lift a hand to brush your neck, “right… well i’m cooking curry tonight, if you want some.”

“really?” he chimes with raised brows, “i can have some?”

“yeah,” you huff as he drops the tissue into the bin. you hand him a patch to put on top of the slash. “it’s like 6:30. i’d feel weird eating dinner while you were sittin’ there all sad and hungry.”

he rolls his eyes at you with burning cheeks. “shut up…”

his fingers gently press the bandage to your shoulder, smoothing it out shortly after. his fingertips dance across your skin, as if itching to get closer. but he pulls his hands away and shoves them into his pockets. “all done.”

you seemed so tired but denji’s never seen you so relaxed around him. you were always uptight, sure, but now, you were more loose. it took him a few seconds, but he realises how nice you look in the lighting. messy, yes, but still… you looked good.

“thanks,” you mumble to him as you roll your shoulder and turn around to him. grabbing your shirt, you button it up and look to him. “you’re gonna’ help.”

he nods slowly as you look to the mirror again and wash your hands and face. splashing water onto your face, you feel denji bump his hip against yours, trying to get closer.

“denji…” you groan as you pat the water from your face with a towel, “what is it?”

he furrows his brows at you with a heavy blush taking over his face. you blink at his state before a smile breaks out on your lips.

“oh,” you hum as you tap your own cheek to mirror the patch set on his, “want me to kiss it better or somethin’?”

denji doesn’t reply when you laugh at his reaction. he only grows a little more irritated at your response. “w—what? stop laughing at me!”

“i thought you hated me, denji,” you state, stance now up straight, “look at you now.”

“i do! shut up!” he argues back to you, “you’re so stupid! i don’t like you!”

his stammering stops as you lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his bandaged cheek. your lips are warm and it distracts him enough that he lets your fingers dance along his other cheek.

your kiss leaves him confused. why would you do that if you didn’t like him? were you playing with him?

when you pull away and notice the hot blush on his face. his surprised is permanently painted on his face, which causes you to chuckle and your gaze to soften. he’s a good guy, really. but he just needs a little guidance. even though you’re the same age, he’s so vastly different from you. the thought makes you sigh and reach out, hugging him tightly.

“it’s okay, denji,” you mutter against his shirt, “you’re pretty alright.”

“i—… whatever…” he grunts as he squeezes you back. you let out a slight hiss and he pulls away as you rub your wounded shoulder. “sorry.”

“‘s fine,” you reply whilst craning your neck, “let’s go make dinner. don’t want you rummaging through aki’s cupboard when you get home.”