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sweetestdesire · 22 days

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A VIEW TO REMEMBER

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, mentions of masturbation, degrading speech, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes accidentally walks in on Fem!Reader during a private moment.

Y/N knew love was a lot less feelings and a lot more work. She wasn’t foolish enough to think feelings were enough to make things work out, and she wasn’t naive enough to think Quinn was any different. And sure, Quinn walked around with the sun under his feet, and he smiled with stars in his eyes, and his laugh sent tidal waves to her heart, but those were all things she knew wouldn’t make him any easier to love.

She watched her parents for far too long to know love was a blanketed title people used for feelings they couldn’t voice, but how was it love if she slept in an empty bed waiting for the other to return? How was it love if dinners were quiet to avoid arguments at all costs? How was it love if touches were rigid and just for show? Y/N wasn’t a fool, and she knew that she wanted Quinn, and she knew he made the world still and the background noises quiet, but those were all feelings that she knew would never quite be enough.

Y/N didn’t know how to love, and neither did her parents, and neither did their parents, and Quinn deserved better than that. So she thought that best friend was a great title. The best, even. It was as good as it was going to get, and it was perhaps a lucky enough gift from the universe she even scored that title in the first place.

But Y/N craved something deeper, something closer, something more intimate. She wanted to feel him in ways no one has, see him in ways no one will, have him in ways only she could. She liked the idea of feeling his touch in a gentle drag across her skin, warm and sweet and trickling with honeyed words against the shell of her ear, but she knew she couldn’t exactly live it out in a reality. So she imagined it, let herself feel the ghost of Quinn’s touch, allowed herself to hear the phantom of her voice in the deepest parts of her imagination.

Like now, for example, as Y/N fell back onto the couch after Quinn had left their apartment, she let out a quiet moan as her hand rubbed over the wet spot on her yoga pants. She shuddered, feeling the heat building up between her legs as she imagined Quinn’s hand replacing hers, and she whined when she let herself tug her shirt up, playing with her own nipples and pinching them between her fingers.

Through half closed eyes, Y/N laid back on the cushion and settled both hands between her legs, lightly resting the edges of her fingers along the lips of her pussy and clit. It felt good, but it would probably feel better if Quinn was the one touching her.

“Oh, God.” Y/N breathed, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead as she dragged her fingers over her pussy, aching with the need for release. And then she had a sudden thought intruding her mind, one where Quinn might just press a delicate kiss between her thighs, and she groaned before reaching to rub her clit with her free hand. “Like that, Quinn. Don’t stop.” She pleaded, like he was there to listen.

Y/N whined, rubbing her pussy faster now, the squelching noise filling the room. Her hips bucked into her fingers to chase the friction, and she wondered if her hand would come to press down and keep her in place.

“Feels so good, baby. God, you feel so good.” She groaned, calling out Quinn’s name as she imagined it was his hand instead of hers, as she imagined it was Quinn she was speaking to and not an empty room, as she imagined it was him watching her with lust hazed eyes and want in his blood. “Gonna make me cum.” She moaned. “Gonna cum for you.”

“Y/N? Oh, my God.” Quinn said, and this time it wasn’t in her imagination.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she sat up, cursing to herself while her face turned a deep shade of crimson. And she was horrified, really, because she was sure Quinn had heard her moan his name, she was sure he saw her rub her pussy, she was sure Quinn had gathered by now that she was thinking of him in the filthiest way possible.

Her throat closed and his heart raced, and she thought there might just be a pinprick of tears in her eyes from the dread and the humiliation. "Quinn, get out. Just close your eyes and stay there. Shit, just go.” She scrambled to yank down her top and clamped her legs together, throwing the remote at him as a distraction while she sprinted from the living room.

Embarrassment swept over her again at the memory and she wondered for about the hundredth time whether she'd ever get over it. Y/N sipped from her can of Pepsi and stirred the brown rice bubbling in the pot on the stove. It was already after seven. Quinn would be home any minute now.

Her exhibitionist moment had become that elephant in the room no one dared speak about, but it was only a matter of time before he cracked and brought up the subject. Since returning from his roadie three days ago, the amused glances he kept sending her way confirmed her hunch; the only reason Quinn held back from talking about it was because it made her uncomfortable. This whole situation had become far too entertaining — for him, at least.

Y/N heard the front door open and close. Quinn usually headed down the hall to change in his bedroom before he came looking for her. She took the pot of rice over to the island bench to drain while she waited for him to appear. Moments later he entered the kitchen, sending her a grin while he strolled across the tiled floor barefoot. She knew, she just knew every time he looked at her now he pictured that scene all over again.

"Hey, Y/N/N.” Quinn said. He wore black athletic shorts and a pain t-shirt that revealed his muscled arms.

"Hi." Y/N smiled and met his eyes briefly. "Dinner's almost ready if you’d want to set the table."

When they were both sitting in the dining room beside the floor-to-ceiling window that showcased the twinkling lights of the city, Y/N speared a piece of chicken and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then quickly replaced it with another to avoid having to talk to him.

She wished things could return to normal between them, that they could go back to sharing their flirty banter and having fun together. They'd clicked from the moment they met. Now it was just awkward and the fault lay entirely with her, Quinn hadn't changed a bit. Her eyes remained directed at her plate, and was only when Quinn let out a snort of amusement that she raised her head.

"It's natural, you know.” He said. His gaze roamed her face, taking everything in. "To want to do it, I mean. Everyone does it."

Y/N closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Quinn."

"I know."

She opened her eyes and forced herself to look at him. "Then why are you bringing it up?"

"We need to talk about it." Quinn balanced his fork on the edge of his plate. "This is serious. The tension around here's putting me off my food."

Although it didn't help at all, she still appreciated his attempt to bring humor into the conversation. "Can't we just pretend it never happened?" She said.

"Y/N, it did happen and it's not a big deal. You're just turning it into one."

Her eyes widened. "That's easy for you to say. How would you feel if I walked in on you... pleasuring yourself?"

"I don't know because it's never happened to me. I always go somewhere private to pleasure myself." She heard the humor in his tone. "I've never set up camp on the couch before and just gone for it."

Oh, my God. If the humiliation at hearing his words wasn't enough now she had the image of him all aroused to contend with, too. Y/N pushed her plate away and leaned her forehead against the table. "I'm just going to bang my head here until I knock myself out, okay?"

"C'mon." Quinn’s patient amusement only made the situation that much worse. Why couldn't she be the mature one here?

Chair legs scraped against tile then his hand wrapped around her upper arm. Quinn tugged her reluctantly into a standing position. Knowing he wanted to talk about it rather than eat his dinner made her realize just how determined he was to fix this problem. Y/N tilted her head to stare up at him, blown away by the jolt of awareness she experienced whenever she looked into his eyes.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Quinn asked. His eyebrows pulled together as he studied her.

"Is it really that hard to understand? You saw me with my hand in my panties, Quinn. You saw my boobs, too." She turned her head and stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere other than here with him talking about the first place holder on her list of embarrassing moments.

"One boob.” He corrected. "A very, very nice one."

Her eyes flicked back to his to check whether he was making fun of her, but his compliment appeared to be sincere. "Thank you.” She said.

"No, thank you."

A reluctant smile appeared. Y/N should have talked about it with him when it actually happened instead of leaving it to him to address the issue. It would have been a lot simpler. "It just feels like I'm at a disadvantage. You saw me during a private moment. I can tell you still think it's funny. I don't like you having that over me."

His mouth turned up at one corner. "You want me to jerk off in front of you to make things even?"

Y/N’s stomach fluttered at the thought. She knew he was joking to lighten the mood, but when she opened her mouth to speak the word that wanted to come out was yes. "Well.” She sent him a tentative smile.

Quinn let out a laughing breath. "I can't believe it. You actually want me to jerk off in front of you."

Now that he'd brought up the idea, Y/N kept her eyes on him and her mouth shut, waiting him out. She refused to get herself in any deeper without some indication that he felt even a tiny portion of the attraction that tormented her on a daily basis. He watched her and the humor slowly slipped from his expression. The silence stretched on and the strain between them grew until it eventually became unbearable. His gaze dropped to her breasts as they lifted and fell beneath her t-shirt.

When his eyes met hers again, the intensity in them left her stunned. "If we're doing this, I'll need some inspiration."

Y/N’s breathing shallowed and her pulse raced. "Like what?" She could barely get the words out.

"Use your imagination." Quinn grabbed her wrist and led her into the living room. He took her over to the coffee table and urged her to sit on the edge. He positioned himself on the couch opposite her and relaxed against the back. When his attention returned to her, his eyebrows lifted. "When this is over, so is all the awkwardness between us. I want the old Y/N back."

Y/N swallowed. "Okay." Did he actually intend to go through with this or was he teasing her and making her wait for the moment where he burst into laughter? She went for something safe just to test him. Her fingers reached up to tug at the clip holding her hair in place. She pulled it free and her hair tumbled over her shoulders. "Does that inspire you?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

He let out an amused breath. "You're gorgeous, but I'm going to need more."

Y/N hid her pleasure at his words, at the warmth they encouraged inside her. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering how far to go next. Affection and tenderness filled his expression. Quinn looked like he wanted her to keep going. The fact that he just sat there patiently waiting, his hands resting on his knees while his gaze swept over her, helped her relax. He didn't push her or tease her so she decided to make the next step more adventurous.

Y/N held her breath and gripped the hem of her t-shirt, dragging it over her torso. The bundle dropped from her slackened fingertips and she sat before him wearing only her blue lace bra and black yoga pants. An intense longing spread through her as she watched him watching her.

"Now we're getting somewhere.” Quinn said. She heard the huskiness in his voice and shivers tickled the surface of her skin.

Before she could change her mind, Y/N stood up and made quick work of removing her pants. "I seem to be the only one who's actually doing anything." She sat back down in her white thong, gripping the edge of the table to keep her trembling fingers steady. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Quinn’s mouth quirked with the smile she knew and loved. "Why don't you just tell me you want to see my cock?"

Desire swelled inside her, crashing in the pit of her stomach, making her feel as if she'd just lost her footing. She met his eyes and in a voice that had turned surprisingly breathy she said, "I really want to see your cock."

Heat flashed in his eyes. "Keep that up and you'll be doing a lot more than looking." Quinn grabbed his top at the neckline and leaned forward, drawing it over his head to reveal his entire upper body to her for the first time. He'd never been one for strutting around the apartment half-naked and she regretted that the moment she set eyes on his bare chest.

“Amazing." Y/N felt a sudden urge to run her tongue over his abs. "You've got an incredible body, but I still don't see your cock."

Quinn chuckled then and it thrilled her that they could find time to laugh despite the sensual nature of the moment. "You're a little eager, aren't you? Been a while?"

"Ages." Y/N reached behind her to the clasp on her bra.

Y/N flicked it open and drew the straps down her arms until they settled at her bent elbows. She kept the cups in place with her hands and sent him an expectant look. The idea of baring herself to him in this way made her heart race. He'd already told her he liked what he saw when he caught her here on the couch. That wasn't the problem. It was being almost naked and sitting just across from him while he… she had to drag in a steadying breath.

Quinn grinned and lifted his hips, shoving at the waistbands of both his shorts and underwear. He lowered them at the same time, stopping just before he got to the good stuff. "You sure you can handle this?"

She watched the ridges in his stomach contract and her mouth went dry. She really wasn't sure of anything right now. "I won't be the one handling it, but I'm sure I'll enjoy watching."

His huffed out a laugh and his thumbs stayed tucked in the top of his shorts, teasing her with the skin he had on display and the mystery of what remained hidden. "There's only one problem.” He said.

She clutched her loosened bra to her breasts. "What's that?"

He met her eyes. "I didn't get to see you cum."

Her cheeks flushed and a quick thrill ran through her. Y/N knew exactly what he was getting at; she'd have to be content with an unfinished show from him or join in so they could reach that peak together. The thought of him in that moment, watching that look come over his face, she didn't want to miss out on seeing it for real. "You want to watch me?"

Quinn gave her a half-smile. "I'd rather make you cum than sit back and watch, but I'll take what I can get.”

Her heart slowed to a heavy thud. "What?"

Quinn shook his head and laughed. "So pretty, yet so dense.” He teased. "What do you think all the flirting's been about?"

"I just thought you flirted with all women like that." Knowing she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion made her happier than she'd thought possible. "You want to have sex with me?" Y/N narrowed her eyes, staring at him. He'd better not be joking.

"No." His gaze traveled over her, pausing at her mouth before moving slowly down her body. He finally looked her in the eyes. "Having sex sounds so clinical. I want to fuck you."

Oh, my God. She let out the breath she'd been holding. A surge of something completely and utterly carnal took hold of her. "I didn't know.” Y/N said breathlessly. "I mean, look at you, and then look at me."

Quinn frowned, appearing annoyed by that, as if he couldn't understand why she felt so out of her depth when it came to his physical appeal. "If you don't shut up and come over here, I'm going to start wondering why I'm so hopelessly attracted to you."

Y/N couldn't catch her breath. Her fingers tightened around the delicate material of her bra as she took it from her breasts and let it fall to the floor. She shook her head slowly. "I still want to watch you.” She heard herself saying.

His gaze dropped to her bared breasts and his jaw clenched. "Better lose the panties, then."

The expression on his face made her want to kiss him. A rush of need swept through her. Her nipples tightened into sensitive buds. Y/N pushed herself off the coffee table and slipped her fingers into the waistband of her thong. Quinn’s eyes followed her every movement and as she lowered her panties he pushed his shorts and boxers down his thighs.

Y/N stepped from her underwear just as he revealed his cock, inch by delectable inch. Her pulse raced. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. It was already hard and now she'd just found somewhere else on his body that she wanted to lick. Quinn kicked his shorts free as she sat back down on the table. She perched on the edge, torn between the need to climb over him and straddle his lap or keep her distance for a better view.

"Ladies first.” Quinn said. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His eyes burned with need. She'd never seen this side of him before.

She lifted her feet, resting them on tiptoes while she slowly, slowly parted her knees. One hand reached behind her, her palm flattening against the table top for support. The other dipped between her thighs to tease her damp folds. Moisture coated her fingertips, and she sighed, wanting to tip her head back but unwilling to lose sight of him for a second.

Quinn groaned and grabbed hold of his cock, stroking the thick, hard length as he watched her. His eyes slid over every part of her, from her face to her breasts, dropping between her legs like a physical caress. The veins in the back of his hand stood out. The way his fingers gripped his erection made her own move faster over her slick pussy. She wanted his hands on her, all over her. She wanted to feel the damp heat of his mouth as it travelled across her skin, the rigid length of him as it sank inside her.

"I was thinking about you.” Y/N said, struggling to put the words together. "When you walked in on me, I mean." Her fingers slid over her clit, massaging the swollen bud while her gaze meshed with his. She hit a sensitive spot and closed her eyes briefly, swallowing a moan. "I'm always thinking about you."

"Y/N." She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. Quinn let out a heavy breath that bordered on a groan, working his cock with increasing speed. She imagined lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. "C'mere, I want you."

His words gave her a head rush. Y/N drew her legs together and warmth pulsed between her thighs as she rose from her position on the table. She took the two steps that lay between them, leaning over him to bring her mouth into close contact with his. He reached up with one hand and filled his palm with her flesh, massaging her breast, teasing her nipple while his lips brushed hers.

Y/N sighed and climbed over him, hovering with her legs spread either side of his thighs. She clasped her hand around his, encouraging him to keep stroking his cock. Quinn groaned and pressed his mouth to hers, taking control, guiding the kiss. He took it deeper, drawing it out with slow sweeps of his tongue, soft nibbles of his lips.

Quinn thumbed her nipple. A whimper sounded in her throat and her hand skated over her stomach to delve back between her thighs. Y/N found her wetness, teasing her hidden nub. She moaned and rocked her hips to meet the firm glide of her fingertips. The slick head of his cock bumped against her knuckles as they both pleasured themselves. Her control faltered and she kissed him harder, thrusting her tongue against his as her desire grew. Her hips jerked.

Y/N broke the kiss, her breaths coming heavily as she whispered, "I wanna ride you, Quinny."

Quinn growled and tugged harder at his thick length, using his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. "Cum for me first.” He said. “Then it's all yours." He used his grip on her hair to hold her right there and crushed his lips to hers.

His tongue plunged into her mouth. A husky moan tore from her and she rubbed her clit, massaging, teasing, all pushing herself closer to the edge. Her eyes closed tightly, her only focus to come. She needed him inside her. His hard, wet cock kept sliding against the back of her hand, taunting her and urging her on.

Quinn seemed to sense her impending release. Either that or he was close himself. His mouth grew more demanding, his groans more frequent. Her fingertips increased pressure on her clit, slipping back and forth. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck, holding on. Her stomach tensed and her hips thrust. His mouth roamed over hers, his tongue caressed. It only increased her desire, her need for him. His hand in her hair, his body beneath her, she wanted him so much.

Y/N pulled her mouth free to drag in a shaky breath. Her forehead rested against his. She cried out, shuddering. It flowed through her in a surge of complete bliss. Her moan, when it came, was throaty and full of pleasure. Her fingers kept rubbing, her hips jerking. While the final tremors still shook her body, Quinn released her hair and clasped her hips. He shoved his cock inside her, pulling her down to deepen the connection. Her back bowed and she let out a garbled sound. He filled her, harsh, fast. Her wet fingers dug into his shoulder, her other hand clutched his hair.

His deep groan against her throat made her shiver. Quinn wrapped his arms tightly around her and fucked her hard. Y/N held on, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. Her breasts jolted against his chest. Her stomach quivered as the need built inside her all over again.

His arm tightened around her and he lifted her, still connected with him, lowering her onto her back on the couch. Quinn rested on one elbow, using his other hand to grasp her ass as he took her even harder. His cock plunged inside her, his hips smacking hers. Sweat-slicked skin met sweat-slicked skin. His chest brushed against her taut nipples.

Quinn looked into her eyes, a glint of something wild in his gaze. His mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You're so fucking hot.” He said.

Y/N clenched her thighs around him, linking her ankles at the base of his spine. "Shut up and make me cum."

Quinn nuzzled her throat and chuckled, damned if the sound didn't make a shiver pass right through her. His pace increased, growing in intensity until she found herself having a brand new appreciation for athletic men. She met his thrusts with her bucking hips, tipping her head back and biting her lip.

Y/N felt it coming, the throb beginning between her thighs. Quinn’s teeth grazed her throat and it was all she needed to give her that final push. She gripped his shoulders and let out a hoarse moan, writhing beneath him. She was still so sensitive from the last effort that she wanted to pull away from him and get closer all at the same time. Her release only spurred him on.

Quinn’s fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, pulling her toward his thrusts. His mouth traveled across her collarbone, moving up to her jaw. He rested his lips there, his warm breaths whispering over her as he reached his peak. Y/N held on, bracing herself as he gave a couple of final, forceful thrusts, letting out a low groan as he came inside her. She hugged him, her arms and thighs wrapping around him to keep him close. He relaxed against her, his heart thudding hard, his breaths wrenching from him.

Y/N’s eyes drifted closed and a smile claimed her features. She relished in the weight of him pressing against her. She couldn't believe how much had changed between them in such a short space of time. From the awkwardness this morning to this, she let out a trembling breath and pressed her cheek to his, closing her eyes to take it all in.

A short while later, Quinn stirred against her and lifted his head. "Hi." He smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded as he lowered his mouth to give her a long, lazy kiss. She lifted her arms above her head, stretching leisurely beneath him and sighing as his lips moved over hers. He gave her one final soft kiss and pulled back to look her over. "We're going to have to come up with some arrangement here. Best friends with benefits or something because I need to do this again."

Y/N lowered her arms, hugging his neck as she squeezed her thighs around him. He was still inside her and judging by that look on his face he'd be hard again in no time. "Really? You want to do it again, huh?" She could barely keep the pleasure from her voice.

"Yeah." Quinn slipped his hand over her breast, massaging her flesh. "We were in such a hurry, I neglected these. I want to make up for that oversight." Her breath caught and her hips lifted beneath him, and he smiled. "You okay with that?" He dipped his head to draw her nipple into his mouth.

Y/N let out a sound that couldn't decide if it wanted to be a laugh or a moan. "Yeah, I think I can handle that."

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lazycats-stuff · 9 days

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Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Oh God, chaos is about to ensue lol. Just everyone being, nope.

Summary: The fam protects their handsome brother.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, people trying to get into (Y/N)'s pants, protective family...

Out of the 5 sons that Bruce has, both adopted and biological, all of them were handsome in their own way. But (Y/N) was the most handsome one, even more handsome than Damian, who was a second contender to the title. Bruce has never ever made any of them feel bad about it.

Besides, none of them really cared about that title anyway. It was bullshit according to them, but... They had agreed that (Y/N) was the most handsome one. That was something that they couldn't deny in the slightest. They all have agreed that if they weren't brothers, they would try and date him.

Of course, that's what a lot of people tried to do and (Y/N) was called a heartthrob for it. He was often in magazines, gossip ones whilst wearing something nice or casual and the internet would simply explode. It has happened a few times before and it was amusing and Jason nearly died from laughing every single time it happened.

God forbid he gets an Instagram or anything like that.

Internet would not survive in any way, shape or form.

Galas were more often that not insane to deal with. (Y/N) was always a genuine person who would really want to love someone, someone who wouldn't use him for like bragging rights or anything similar. When (Y/N) loves, he loves.

That's something that his brothers knew, alongside Bruce of course. So, being a protective they are, they made a pact to protect (Y/N) from people who would only want to sleep with him. There were many douchebags like that, who only want to get in (Y/N)'s pants.

It was nuts.

The same thing was happening tonight, at a gala for some charity. It was for the homeless people of Gotham city. (Y/N) was dressed sharply, in a classic black suit with a white shirt. Of course, he finished his look with a black tie. He moved around the room to talk to people, avoiding the knows reporters. He wasn't interested in them.

He was more interested in something else and that was his bed. Just two more hours.

However, the others noticed people looking at him, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat for them. A prize. Prey. A trophy. It didn't sit well with any of the family members. (Y/N) deserves nothing more than the best partner he could get.

Only the best.

Jason was eyeing a man who was looking at his brother and has made a move. He started walking towards his brother, but Jason was one step ahead. They were all wearing earpieces, just like on patrol. Jason lifted his glass of wine. " A man is on the move. Tim, he is in your line of sight. " Jason murmured, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine.

Tim turned his head from a man he was talking to and excused himself, quickly making his way to his brother before the douchebag could even reach him.

" Hey (Y/N), Jason wanted to talk to you. " Tim said as he patted his shoulder and (Y/N) nodded, leaving to find Jason, who heard it all and was now trying to figure out a reason to talk to (Y/N).

Tim turned his head to look at the man, who was glaring at Tim. Tim was thoroughly unimpressed.

" I know exactly what you want with my brother. I have seen it time and time before. It won't happen. " Tim said coldly and turned around, leaving the angry man behind.

Damian and Dick smirked from their spots. It was amazing to see it. Truly amazing.

And (Y/N) always turned a blind eye to it. It was either for the reason that he didn't want to deal with people or he simply didn't know. He always played dumb for it, but they all suspected that he knew.

Either way, it soothed the protective urge in them. Bruce knew what they were doing and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop his boys. Only if it was physical. Only then he would step in.

And Alfred? Alfred was the silent watcher, listening and waiting. He listened because most men like that brag about things and are bound to uncover something about themselves. And Alfred is never wrong. He always saw right through them.

As Jason and (Y/N) were talking, the others remained vigilant. It was far more interesting this way. More fun at this gala. Not just this one, but the others too. Far more interesting.

(Y/N) got himself some whiskey and just sipped it slowly. It was a nice evening. Damian moved around, seeing a man walking in the general direction of (Y/N). Damian moved through the crowd of people, watching the man like a hawk.

There was something way off about him. Something was way off. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that he couldn't ignore the feeling. If there is one thing that Damian was taught, it was to never ignore his gut feeling about people.

He kept following the man, seeing a lustful gaze in his eyes. That bastard. Damian's eyes narrowed at the man, especially when (Y/N) left to go to the bathroom. Damian's mind went into overdrive, knowing that (Y/N) would be vulnerable there.

" I'm moving to the bathroom. " Damian murmured as he approached the bathroom, making sure to keep some distance. He smudged his shirt a bit to have an excuse to go to the bathroom. He entered it, seeing someone chatting up (Y/N).

Damian cleared his throat as he approached the sinks. " (Y/N), father wants to talk to you. Says it's important. " Damian said and Bruce chuckled through the earpiece.

" Thanks Dames. " (Y/N) said with a smile and excused himself from the conversation he was having with a polite smile. The man kept up a polite smile until (Y/N) left and turned to Damian with a scowl. Damian had to control an urge to not laugh in his face.

" Listen kid, don't ruin this for me. " The man said and Damian kept his cool.

" I know who you are. Your father is a business partner of WE. And Bruce Wayne is protective of his sons so don't make me tell him what you said. " Damian said coldly, but Bruce already heard it. But of course, will keep it quiet as long as the man is somewhat respectful.

Now, the last sentence alone made the man scared. It was a well known fact that Bruce Wayne doesn't take any disrespect about his sons. Of any kind. Damian smirked as he saw that the man has paled.

Damian left without a word and saw Dick who smirked too. " Good job Damian. " Dick said as he high fived Damian in passing, composing himself quickly as the man hurried out of the bathroom, clearly distressed.

The two smirked, making Tim snort from where he watched them with Connor. Bruce subtly rolled his eyes at that, but was happy that Damian took control.

And (Y/N)? He simply remained unbothered, chatting away with Alfred, who was happy to stop for a good chat with his grandson.

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angelbarelywrites · 2 months

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♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim..

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), Black Christmas, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content

♡ note; i wasn’t sure how to word the title/concept of this one?? but essentially you’re almost a victim, but you’re a little to okay with it/something they do and it throws them off?? idk just read ‘em

also only 3 little meow meows in this one, i wrote most of this on break at work uwu

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> he’s been stalking you for months

> in his mind you’re the perfect victim

> clueless to his presence, adorable and vulnerable

> he’s drawing it out as long as he can

> but he’s practically twitching the night you come out onto your porch in your tight pajama shorts, relaxing with some tea

> he’s got you pinned to the wall before you can even scream

> he wants to savor this, so he keeps his knife tucked away and has a massive hand around your throat

> he doesn’t miss your breath catching

> and he takes a moment to watch your chest heaving, your cheeks all flushed

> but he’s not that easily impressed. could be the lighting. maybe you’re quick to panic.

> “…you’ve been watching me.”

> you knew?

> you knew, and you still played his game

> interesting. very interesting.

Thomas Hewitt

> Tommy boy is already giving you special treatment

> something is different about you

> he’s not sure what, you’re pretty, but he kills plenty of pretty people

> maybe something about the way you look up at him through your lashes?

> and you’re terrified now, but you weren’t scared of the initial sight of him..

> he doesn’t put you on a meat hook, instead rigging you somewhat kindly, your hands chained above your head but your bound feet on the ground

> whatever he decides on, he knows that you’re special. you deserve to be honored.

> he takes extra care in examining you, feeling you shiver as he grazes your exposed stomach - a side affect of your position, but a welcome sight

> he roughly grabs your face and pushes it left and right, pausing to rub your cheek with his thumb

> you would be a pretty face to wear

> he shoves two fingers into your mouth as he’s mentally measuring

> and he practically startles at the noise you make

> he’s never heard a sound like come from a victim- especially not his victims

> when he pushes a bit and you whimper around his fingers it confirms his suspicions. you’d given a choked moan at the initial intrusion

> he stares down at you, breathing heavily through his mask

> oh you were very special

Billy Lenz

> you were renting a spare room in the sorority house

> while you were good friends with the girls, you valued your alone time

> you quickly became Billy’s favorite to watch, mostly because you were always home

> when he calls he always tries to time it so you pick up

> but usually the girls downstairs still answer- you’re never expecting calls so why bother?

> this evening however, he’s lucky- there’s an on campus event and you’re home completely alone

> you answer on the second ring and he’s delighted, immediately babbling profanities and filthy threats

> “gonna fuck that pretty piggy c—“

> to his surprise you giggle at him

> not a nervous sound, but genuine giggling

> before he can snap, or really even process you laughing at him, you stop him

> “yknow if you want phone sex, you can just ask nicely mister”

> he hangs up in a panic

> that was certainly the last thing he expected

> but now he’s beyond fixated on you

> he barely sleeps just to peep through your wall

> and it’s just about time he paid you a real visit

#thomas hewitt #slashers #dead by daylight #thomas hewitt x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers headcanons #tcm 2006 #tcm #black christmas #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz #micheal myers x reader #micheal myers #halloween #g/n reader #gender neutral reader #slashers x reader

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hyunsvngs · 9 months

Text

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 - seo changbin x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: sex with no strings attached, sexy changbin, changbin’s tummy (deserves a warning because it is so overwhelming), bin is cocky and cute, mentions of body hair, smut (specific warnings under the cut, minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: your situationship - the man of your dreams - gives you full, explicit permission to fuck his frat brothers in your effort of a hot bitch summer. who’s next, after you ruined your best friend in bed?

a/n: part three of the fratboy series, hot bitch summer!:D fratboy bin is on my mind… so sexy. also enjoy the build up of more lore in this one!! this part is really integral to the series :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: strength kink, size kink, public sex (they fuck in a gym room but it’s locked), pet names (little bunny), a LOT of dirty talk, fingering, spitting, a very brief blowjob, seo changbin has a THICK COCK like SO THICK, maybe d/s dynamics a bit? dom!bin then sub!bin at the end?, creampie, brief cockwarming

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Waking up in Minho’s bed after a night of unadulterated pleasure had become a regular occurrence in your life. The man just knew exactly how to push your buttons in exactly the right way, and you more often than not even found yourself staying over in his bed after parties too. Even slightly intoxicated, you had the best sex you’d ever had with him.

His words were still lingering on your mind, though. Could you truly tick off every member of the frat? The SKZ frat itself had only eight members, with frat president Chan being extremely selective in who he let join. Jisung and Changbin were allowed in because they all loved music production, with it being both Chan and Jisung’s major. Changbin simply had an affinity for it and had done it as a side course with his sports and exercise science degree.

Minho, you believed, had formed the fraternity with Chan initially, and he was elected vice president. Hyunjin and Felix were accepted instantly because of their involvement in Minho’s dance society. Jeongin was Minho’s adopted baby that he met through Felix, because the both of them played video games together regularly. Jeongin took it a lot less seriously than Felix did.

Interestingly, Seungmin was accepted because he was rumoured to be the author of the Gossip Girl-esque blog in the university, titled Hall of Fame. This fact had never been confirmed by Seungmin himself, but rumours ran rampant around the school. You often wondered if the anonymous posts were actually him, since they never seemed to include members of his frat. It was as if they’d been selective, only ever about people from other fraternities or sororities. You’d been lucky enough to not have one about you, and that got you thinking - you were a relatively well known figure on campus due to the people you choose to surround yourself with. If it was Seungmin, had you been excluded from the posts because you were friends with Jisung and Felix?

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the home into your nose and invaded your senses. You quite literally heard your stomach grumble, needing food after yet another long night of partying, and you stretched before pushing your legs off of the bed to stand up. They felt so weak these days, due to you being fucked by Minho so often. You didn’t even know how to remedy it. You sure as hell weren’t going to stop fucking him.

Hobbling downstairs slowly, you entered the kitchen to be met with the sound of Seungmin and Minho bickering. From what you could gather in your still slightly sleepy haze, Seungmin was angry because Minho had decided to cook for you, him and Jisung, and he refused to give Seungmin any. You blinked through the fog, feeling Jisung place his head on your shoulder. The touch was a welcome one, comforting and by your best friend. Felix sat next to Seungmin across from you, giggling at something Hyunjin had whispered into his ear.

“Y/N, my baby,” Jisung chirped happily, rubbing his round cheek against your shoulder. You sighed, letting your head loll on top of his. “Good morning. How are you?”

“Mm, I’ve felt better. My legs feel really weak and tired.”

Seungmin choked on a laugh while eating a spoonful of the bowl of cereal he’d had to make due to the fact Minho refused to cook for him. He pointed his spoon at you vindictively. “Maybe because you’re trying to fuck the whole frat?” A drop of milk dribbled off the end of the spoon and splashed back into the bowl, taunting and slow. Even the milk was roasting you.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to giggle. “Hey, they’re pretty. They’re allowed to fuck us all.”

You groaned, nuzzling your cheek against Jisung’s soft hair. Jeongin had since entered the room, hair sticking up everywhere and a loose t-shirt hanging off of his slender frame. He’d quickly thrown himself onto a chair and placed his head in Jisung’s lap. You noticed Minho adding extra bacon to the pan automatically upon Jeongin’s arrival. Seungmin looked like he was about to have a breakdown, shoving more Frosties into his mouth and chewing angrily. His eyes were narrowed at Minho, yet Minho didn’t even grace him with a glance, simply smirking to himself over the pan.

Jisung carded his fingers through Jeongin’s hair, making Jeongin flutter his eyes shut and let out a pleased hum. “You know, you could go to Binnie. He works out a lot. He could stretch you out so your legs aren’t as weak.”

Binnie. Changbin. Stretching you out. Oh yeah. Now that sounded good. You turned to Minho, seeing him plating up four plates of food.

Changbin was probably the man of your wet dreams if Minho didn’t exist. He was a beefcake, to put it simply. You often found yourself ogling his muscles in sleeveless shirts and wishing nothing more than to leave bite marks all over his tan skin. You wanted him to press his full weight to you, feel that delightful sexy fucking tummy against your back as he pounded you with his undeniably thick cock.

Going to the gym with Changbin sounded amazing. Minho brought the plates over quickly, sitting down on your other side. He looked at you, sending a subtle wink. “I think that sounds amazing. He’s coaching the weightlifting society tomorrow. You can grab him after practice.”

Oh, you planned on grabbing him alright.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the training room Changbin was supposed to be in around ten minutes after his weightlifting class had been expected to end. It was the morning, sunlight glaring through the window. You’d dressed comfortably, tight gym leggings and a loose t-shirt adorning your figure and a simple pair of old trainers that had probably seen better days. They were stained with droplets of bright paint from the time you and Felix had tried to redecorate your room - it hadn’t gone well, and you’d actually been staring bemusedly at the random patches of different colours before you left the house.

He was situated on the bench press when you walked in, effortlessly pumping out reps of 50 kg as if it was nothing. He didn’t have a spotter, so this was clearly lightweight for him. You thought you could die, heart racing, just standing in the doorway and staring at him. He hadn’t even noticed you yet.

Once Changbin had re-racked the bar, he turned to you, blinking confusedly. It took him a second before a cute toothy smile appeared on his face. “Oh, Y/N! Hi! Sorry, I kinda lost track of time.”

“It’s okay, Changbin,” you smiled, walking further into the room. You made sure to close the door behind you, subtly locking it while he was retying his laces. He was wearing a tight black vest top, a face mask pulled down under his chin and his hair natural, dark and curly. His legs were clad in loose basketball shorts, showing off that he does, in fact, attend leg day. You were shamelessly ogling him, and he brought your attention back to his face with a laugh.

“Bin is fine, or even Binnie,” Changbin grinned. He stood up from his laces and clapped his hands together triumphantly. “Okay, so Sungie mentioned something about your legs. You wanna strengthen them, yeah?”

You blanched. Okay, so Jisung had told Changbin your purpose for being there, but had he told him why? You doubted Changbin would have no idea. He knew, but at least he was being friendly about it. Changbin ushered you over to a mat on the floor, and you obediently walked over to sit down cross-legged on it. He sat next to you, pulling the face mask off altogether and throwing it aside.

“Erm, yeah. I guess so. They’re just really, um, shaky? Weak? I’m not sure,” You mumbled, fingers smoothing down your leggings awkwardly. Could you have less finesse, ever? You’d been awkward with Minho, given he’d walked straight out of your wet dreams after plaguing them like a demon for months, but you surely didn’t have to be like that around Changbin. Changbin hummed, nodding at your explanation. “I don’t think weights would be best. Maybe I just need to-“ Be stretched out. “Stretch. I need to stretch.”

Changbin nodded. “Sounds good. Can I touch you?”

Please. “Yeah, of course.”

He reached over, his hands pressing at your calves. His hands were wide, with thick, manly fingers that weren’t too long but looked like they’d be such a fucking good stretch. His fingertips were slightly calloused from the overuse of barbells. You wondered what he’d be like in bed - would he put his muscles to good use, pinning you down and making you take it, or would he let you take control like Jisung did?

You sighed, almost inaudibly. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Okay,” Changbin mused. “They are kinda weak, I can feel it. The muscles are spasming when I touch them. Could you stand up, and touch your toes? It’s a yoga pose, I just wanna see how weak they actually are.”

Yoga? Okay. You had flashbacks to Felix trying to teach you how to do yoga, some random shit he’d learnt from Hyunjin. You’d both done one pose before falling over cackling. Standing up immediately, you bent over to touch your toes. He came behind you, humming again. You tried not to think about how he was now standing behind you, grabbing your hips to correct your position and making you arch your back a little. As if he was going to push into you from behind, slow and thick, quite literally stretching you out-

You were speaking before you could even control it. “Oh, fucking hell.”

Changbin’s hands paused on your hips. A beat passed, and then two. Then he was laughing.

“Hey, did you seriously just come here because you wanted to tick me off of your sexy bucket list, or did you come here to actually fix your legs?” You shot up, turning around to face him. He put his hands on his hips, still letting out loud giggles. You couldn’t help but let out a scoff and laugh with him.

“Well. I actually do need help,” you rubbed your temples, still laughing in disbelief. Changbin shook his head, rolling his eyes playfully. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“No, no, I believe you. But you wanted to fuck me later, didn’t you?” Changbin accused, pointing a finger. “Maybe I will fuck you. You’re stretching first, though. Bending over for Minho so many times does horrible things to the body.”

You grinned, resuming your position of touching your toes. “Oh, you’d know, would you?”

Changbin flicked your thigh, still giggling slightly. “Shut up, would you? So fucking sassy, heh. I’m going to massage your legs now.”

You felt his hands pushing you into a position where you were laying down on your front. The strong hands on your back and right shoulder made your cunt pool with heat, but you tried to ignore it. Unsuccessfully, because you were instantly thinking of him manhandling you into other positions when you had finally pliantly dropped to the mat. When did you become like this? You were the horniest you’d ever been.

His strong palms began to knead against your calves. The feeling was delicious, actually - he knew what he was doing. You felt instantly relaxed, letting him ease the ache out of your muscles. When he moved up to your thighs though, you felt that incessant need in your core return and you wanted to scream in frustration. He was taking his time, working out every knot in your legs and you just laid there, arms crossed beneath your head for you to rest on.

All of a sudden, Changbin’s hands were pushing up against the seam where your asscheek met your thigh. You jumped in surprise. “Huh?!”

Changbin smirked, that same cocky smirk you’d got earlier on. “Feeling tense here, you know? Better stretch you out.” You blinked. They’d definitely had a conversation, either him and Minho or him and Jisung - you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Fuck it. You squirmed onto your back, looking up at Changbin. He cocked an eyebrow at you, a mischievous smile still on his full lips. “You gonna fuck me now, Binnie?”

Changbin shook his head again, fondly. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe I do,” he spoke, before diving down to capture your lips in his. He quickly had you pinned to the soft mat underneath you, tongue sliding across your bottom lip before caressing into your mouth with intricacy. You moaned, running your fingers through the soft curls on his head. You tried to wrap your legs around his slim waist, but he was quick to shift you, pressing your legs back into the mat with a firm hand. “No.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you pulled away from the kiss and huffed, hips squirming. Changbin looked appalled.

“I fucking am! Just- you’ll get hurt again. Your legs are sore, remember?” He pressed another peck to your lips, spreading your legs himself manually. He positioned in between them, a promising bulge pressing against your clothed pussy.

You sighed with pleasure when he started rutting the bulge into you, kissing your neck softly. “There’s no sex position that won’t hurt my legs, Bin.”

“Mm, sure there is. I’ll show you.”

Well, colour you intrigued. You gripped onto his biceps, fingernails digging into the large muscles when he pressed a kiss to the neckline of your t-shirt. You were quick to push him up slightly to rip your t-shirt off impatiently. He must’ve moved himself, because there was absolutely no chance you’d managed to shift a man of that stature with one hand. Your sports bra was very much less than sexy, and you screwed your face up with embarrassment when you remembered you were wearing it. Changbin didn’t seem to care, because with a quick movement behind your back the bra was unclipped and thrown to the side.

He immediately latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around your areola. You whimpered, pushing your chest into his mouth. He hummed against the peaked bud before moving to the other one, using his thick fingers to tweak your already lathered with spit nipple. He was still rutting into you, although the movement had gone slightly lower with his ongoing mouth efforts.

“Mm- Binnie, wanna see you too. Please.”

Changbin pulled back, his mouth wet with spit and his hair all messed up from your hands running through it with passion. He quickly shucked his vest top off, revealing a delightful set of sculpted pecs and a sexy fucking tummy. You wanted to clench your teeth into his tan skin and leave your mark there. This was made worse when you noticed the delectable looking snail trail of hair at the bottom of his tummy, leading down into something you needed to see very soon.

“Oh my God,” you murmured. Changbin tilted his head in confusion. “Your tits.”

Changbin burst out laughing, before clenching each one in a rhythm. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him back down for another heated kiss. Your bare chests rubbed against each other, his full weight pressed against your frame to hold you down against the yoga mat. You whined into the kiss at the stimulation on your nipples, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth in a filthy kiss of swapping spit. His biceps were curled around you, his body pressed tightly on top of you, almost crushing - but you loved it. He was just so much bigger than you.

“You like that, don’t you? Feeling me crushing you,” Changbin muttered into the kiss, stealing little pecks between each word. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaking. Gonna let me take a look at your pussy, little bunny?”

You moaned, nodding, the pandering to your size kink making your brain blur with arousement. He was pulling off your trainers quickly then, yanking your gym leggings down and leaving your underwear covering your core. He groaned, pushing your legs open softly. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear, slick sticking the fabric back to your cunt everytime you moved. He was no doubt staring at it with lust when one of his hands went to palm his erection through his shorts.

“Fucking hell, you liked that, didn’t you? You like me calling you my little bunny? You like being smaller than me?”

You nodded eagerly, squirming while he spoke. He was still staring at your pussy, wet patch expanding the more he’d spoken. “Take ‘em off, Binnie. Have a good look,” Changbin sighed, scrunching his eyes shut before nodding. He looked like he could barely control himself. Good. You didn’t want him to.

His fingers were latching into your underwear then, pulling them down and revealing your pussy, folds sopping wet with your arousal. He gazed down at it, eyes blown wide with lust and his breathing heavy.

“Fuckin’- Jesus,” Changbin swiped two fingers in between your folds, collecting slick on his fingers. He pushed them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. “So fucking sweet. Look at Binnie’s little bunny making a mess, huh? Do you want a taste?”

You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, expecting him to push his fingers past your tongue. Instead, he crouched down quickly, swiping his tongue over your core in one thick swipe. He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit quickly before he was moving just as quick back up to you, gripping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. You didn’t even have time to feel his plush, doll-like lips on your clit, which slightly disappointed you before you realised what he was doing.

Made to open your mouth wide like this, you moaned out unabashedly and loudly when Changbin let your arousal drip from his mouth and into yours. He was watching it enter your mouth. Before you could even swallow it, his tongue was back in your mouth, swiping around the wet cavern and trying to get more of the taste for himself. You let him kiss you for another few seconds, feeling him rutting into your now bare core as he whined into the kiss. He liked it dirty then, you mused.

You pulled away, trying to catch your breath. “Gimme,” you mumbled, thumbs hooking into his loose shorts to try and catch a glimpse at his erection. He pushed your hands away, mumbling incoherently about you being impatient. You huffed, shifting up onto your hands to watch as he pulled the two layers of fabric down altogether. Your jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Changbin looked at you cockily as you took in his length. It was shorter, not as long as Minho’s but he did make up for it more than enough in girth. You thought your jaw would break if you tried to suck him off, and you weren’t entirely sure your hand would even fit around it. Your pussy was going to cry. You wanted it so fucking badly.

A rivulet of precum was leaking from his flushed cockhead, travelling down the veiny shaft and landing in a pleasant thatch of curly, dark hair at the base, wetting the hair. His balls were heavy, full, and you wanted them in your mouth. You wanted it all in your mouth, actually, even if it would kill you trying.

“Pleased?” Changbin quipped. You looked back up at his stupid confident smirk, grabbing him by the wrist and throwing him on the mat beside you. It took all of your strength, but you managed it. He squeaked with surprise, but you ignored him. You were quick to push up onto your knees, shuffling down to be face to face with one of the best cocks you’d ever seen in your life. You needed it, right there in that gym, where you’d probably end up smelling like sweat from a different kind of workout. You were more than glad that you’d locked the door.

You stared at it. “This is going to kill my jaw.”

“You really don’t have to- oh God-“ Changbin was cut off by you sinking your wet mouth onto the tip of his cock. You could already feel the uncomfortable stretch on your jaw, but you were determined, suckling the precum into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head like it was a lollipop. You let your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his thick cock, feeling amused when he let out a loud, rather high-pitched moan.

Focusing on the cockhead, you let your tongue dip into his slit to swallow the tiny bit of precum that he’d blessed you with. He looked gorgeous, laying back against the mat with his thick thighs spread and a just-as-thick cock hanging between them. One arm was behind his head, massive biceps tensed as you stared up at him and swallowed the tip of his cock repeatedly. You wanted to see him ruined, but you had a feeling his cock was going to ruin you. His jaw was dropped, plush lips letting out deep sighs.

You tried to bob your head and get more of his dick in your mouth, but you were unsuccessful. It seemed it was just too fucking thick, and you were scrunching your face up in disappointment when you suckled on the cockhead one more time before pulling up. Pumping it absentmindedly, you stared up at Changbin. “Too thick.”

Changbin laughed, pulling you up to lay on top of him with ease. “‘S okay, little bunny. I want to take care of you, if that’s okay?”

Well, how could you say no to that? You smiled, giving him a quick nod, and then you felt his finger reach down and press against your entrance. It was filling you before you knew it, his thick digit stretching your hole open. Eyes rolling back into your head, you moaned and writhed on top of him, grinding your clit into his tummy.

“Bin- don’t need prep, fucking-!” He ignored you, pushing another finger in alongside the first one.

“Minho warned me you were impatient,” He scoffed, pumping his fingers steadily. He was scissoring them inside of you, trying to stretch your hole out further than it could possibly go. “I should’ve believed him. I don’t know if you saw, but my dick is really fucking thick. Little bunny can’t take it without prep, okay?”

You didn’t argue, like you had with Minho. You had argued with Minho and ended up feeling like your pussy was being split open by Minho’s thick cock, and Changbin was even thicker. Also, you knew that if you’d tried to argue he would’ve just laughed at you and told you not to argue with him, so being a brat was futile. Bouncing on his fingers, you resorted to trying to relax your hole and let it stretch enough to take him. Taking this dick may kill you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try your fucking hardest.

Changbin cooed at you, brushing your hair out of your face with his free hand. “That’s promising, little bunny. You’re taking my fingers so well, huh? I think I’ll put a third one in, okay?”

“Mm, yeah, can take three,” Your eyes fluttered shut when yet another finger went up to your hole, pushing up slowly. He moaned when your pussy clenched tight around the three digits, not wanting to stretch further. He was no doubt imagining the tightness your cunt would give him when his cock got inside of it, and you couldn’t blame him - you were imagining the fucking stretch you were going to get.

“I think I’ll curl them up, yeah? Just like this?” Changbin questioned you, curling his thick fingers up to reach your g-spot. You immediately keened, and Changbin giggled, continuing to hammer his fingertips into the spongy spot inside of you. “Oh, yeah, like that, huh? I know what you’re thinking. Will I make you cum before I fuck you?”

Well, you weren’t thinking anything, fucked dumb on his fingers - but now you were thinking that. Will he make you cum before he fucks you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to or not, being impatient and wanting his dick inside of you, but he seemed to be playing the long game. You bounced on his fingers again, wanting just a bit of stimulation on the bundle of nerves between your legs in a hope that you could cum quickly and get his dick inside you, like, yesterday.

“B-Bin, I need your cock, you can’t make me cum before, need it-”

Changbin let out an ear ringing laugh again, flipping you over so your ass was flat against the mat. He continued fucking his fingers into you immediately, thudding into your g-spot over and over in a fast rhythm. “I can, and I fucking will, little bunny,” You simply nodded, accepting your fate. “Nothing to make you relax like a world-shattering orgasm, right?”

You scoffed. “Well, I’m not gonna cum if you don’t touch my clit, Bin.” He stopped the movement of his fingers, staring at you with a nonchalant expression.

“I’m not going to touch your clit, and you are gonna cum. G-spot orgasm. Heard of it?”

You blinked. He didn’t mean…? “You’re gonna try to make me squirt?!”

Changbin shrugged, pinning one of your legs down to spread you wider. “You may not squirt, but it’ll feel really fucking good. Squirting is an added benefit for me, to be honest,” He looked cocky, a boyish smile on his face. Oh yeah, he liked it messy. You let out a squeak when his fingers started hammering into your g-spot again, fast and rough, making you want to squirm away from the pleasure. When you tried to, his hand was quick to push your hips back down and just make you take it. It didn’t feel like a dominant move, more a petty, playful move than anything, and you found yourself panting and your head rolling back onto the mat.

“Shit, I can’t, Bin,” You whined, fingernails digging into the mat. You were sure you’d leave little crescent moon shaped indents afterwards. You could feel yourself getting close, never having experienced such intense solo stimulation to your g-spot before - fingers could move in different ways to what a dick could. “Bin, Bin, Binnie- Bin, pleasepleaseplease, hnng-”

Changbin leaned next to you, kissing your neck softly. “No need to beg me, little bunny. Cum whenever you want.”

You gasped out, feeling his palm go to press down on your belly. It made the fingers feel even deeper, and before you knew it, your thighs were shaking in one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life.

“That’s it, there you go,” Changbin whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your ear. You didn’t think you were squirting, but Changbin was completely right, you’d never felt anything like this before. The ecstasy started at your pussy and felt like it was busting out all over your body, making your body shake and your eyes flutter shut. You were whining, moaning, possibly even close to screaming - all just from a few fingers. You came to, your chest flushed and your breathing heavy as you tried to calm down. Changbin was looking straight at you, smiling in that boyish way again and actually looking a bit bashful. “Do you, uh… do you still want more?”

Your eyes flickered down to his erection, still painfully thick and hard. His cockhead was red, leaking. “That’s not even a question, Bin. Gimme.”

Changbin giggled again, letting his fingers slide from your dripping hole. You grimaced at the loss, trying to move your legs back together, but you were shocked when Changbin grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up into his arms.

“W-What? What are you-?”

He held onto your hips, waiting until your arms were wrapped around his neck securely to stand up. You were suddenly in the air, jaw still dropped while you stared at him in disbelief. He’d really just lifted you up like you were nothing. Your pussy was throbbing again. “Not using your legs, remember? I’m gonna hold you.”

“Y-You- oh.” You gasped when he was holding you close to him, letting one hand drop to position his cock at your entrance. You were being held up completely, one hand at the small of your back to hold you close and not let you fall while his other was finally allowing himself to have some release. Instead of pushing his dick in, his hands went back to your hips, staring into your eyes as he simply let you drop onto his cock, taking it in all at once. “Oh- oh shit, Changbin, it’s so fucking thick!”

Changbin simply grunted, giving you next to no time to adjust before he was grabbing your hips, bouncing you onto his cock. “G-Gonna just fucking use you like my little fucktoy. That… Is that okay, bunny?” He was struggling to get his words out, hands on your hips tightly while he moved you up and down on his cock. Your eyes rolled back into your head, fingers gripping onto his neck tightly. It was such a big fucking stretch, feeling like you were being ripped apart but you loved it, your hole leaking more slick the quicker he bounced you.

“Yeah, yeah, love it, fucking- use me like your fleshlight, Binnie,” You whined, letting your head drop into the crook of his neck. You could smell his sweat, the odour of manliness filling your senses and just proving to turn you on more. He was so manly, made up entirely of thick muscle and a thick fucking cock with a cheerful, loveable personality. The man fucking giggles, for God’s sake. You put your hands on his shoulders for purchase, trying to squirm to ride him yourself, but his tight grip was not one to be matched.

“I’m not like Minho or Jisung, little bunny, I want to cum inside you and have you - fucking shit - full of me,” Changbin groaned, pumping you quicker. You could feel his heavy balls slapping against your asscheeks, making you whine. You wish you’d got them in your mouth first. “C-Can I do that? Can I creampie this little pussy, get you to leak me out all day?”

You keened, nodding, eyes blurry. “Mm, yeah, want your cum Binnie. Gonna fill me up? Please, please,” You were babbling, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter at the mention of him filling you up with his cum. Thank God for birth control.

“Told you you don’t need to beg with me. You want me to cream inside of you? This pussy’s so tight, little bunny, it- it’ll be fucking- oh- overflowing, dripping out,” You clenched harder at that, eyes rolling back into your head. You were sure you were drooling on his shoulder. “So tight, so small. Feel so good around my cock, bunny. You’re so small, I can just pick you up like this and bounce you like a toy.”

“‘M not small, Binnie, you’re just fucking strong,” You whimpered. Changbin moaned loudly at this, walking you over to pin you against the wall. You could feel your back slide around on it with the sweat accumulating on your spine, but you really couldn’t give a fuck, focusing on the cock pistoning in and out of your dripping hole. His body against yours would keep you upright if you slid around, his chest nice and sturdy. “So strong, Binnie, shit- you’re so- your arms, your tits, fucking-”

“Yeah? Y-You like them?” Changbin asked, his biceps flexing with the effort of holding your hips up. His cock pumped steadily into you, him almost sounding insecure - you knew it was just the effect of the pleasure you were both feeling.

“Mm, love them. You’re so fucking sexy, Binnie, knew I had to have you,” You tightened your hand on his shoulder to let your other hand go down and rub your clit, rubbing steady circles around the small button. Changbin groaned, his head dropping forward, forehead pressing against yours to gaze down at you touching yourself. You let out loud moans and whines, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak. “Binnie, fuck- getting close, oh…”

Changbin nodded against your head, pulling your hips even closer to him to hit you deeper while he bounced you on his cock. You could feel the slick slide of his cock in and out of you, and he didn’t even look anything close to tired despite ramming you up and down on his cock for this long. He had some amazing stamina. “C’mon, pretty bunny. Cream all over my cock, c’mon. Feels good, yeah?”

“Yeah, f-feels so good, Binnie, ah-“ You jolted at a particularly hard thrust, fingers rubbing quicker against your bundle of nerves. “Yeah, yeah, gonna cum!”

“That’s it, you’re so- so fucking good for me. Binnie’s bunny is so good, h-huh? C’mon, let me feel you make a mess on my cock,” Your jaw dropped in a silent scream as your orgasm hit, making a mess of Changbin in a gushing orgasm. He moaned, encouraging you with little coos as you let the pleasure bloom from your pussy and all over your body.

Changbin didn’t stop thrusting, something that alarmed you a bit, but you could handle it. You let him push you against the wall sharply and start to thrust into you instead, his hips moving on autopilot. You whined through the sensitivity, your walls still fluttering around him as he fucked up into your g-spot.

You looked down at his cock stretching your hole, seeing the hair at the bottom of his tummy and his pubes wet with your juices. The sight was erotic, primal - it made you wonder if you could cum again. Without thinking too much into it, you dipped your fingers down to collect some of your cum that had amassed in the hair and pressed them into Changbin’s mouth.

He promptly keened into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. He let his jaw drop open, your wet fingers dropping out onto his chin. “Mm- gonna c-cum, please, please!” What was with these frat boys and begging you? You were still trying to ignore the sensitivity of your pussy and focus on the pleasure, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Yeah? Cum for me Binnie, come on. Breed me nice and full, yeah?” Changbin whined loudly, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. He was drooling all over your skin, pressing wet, messy kisses into your neck. All of a sudden, his hips halted, and you could feel a new warmth filling you up. He let out one singular whimper, his breath coming in heavy pants as he filled you up.

You gripped his shoulders, letting him pull his head up to look at you. He gazed at you with watery eyes, before blinking at you and laughing in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, bunny. Fuck!”

You giggled, fingers dancing over his skin affectionately. “Good?” Changbin rewarded you with a scoff, still keeping his arms around you. He carried you over to a bench and promptly sat down, his softening cock still inside you. It was rather comforting.

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever behaved like that in my life. I’m normally a bit… softer,” Changbin admitted, his cheeks burning. You cooed, squishing his cheeks in your fingers and making him swat your hands away. “Hey, no!”

“Sorry, Binnie. You’re just super cute.”

“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, timid and bashful. “Anyway, we should get you cleaned up and dressed. Minho’s gonna be here in about-“

A knock on the door interrupted you both, making you shoot up and off his lap. You clearly over judged your own stability though, because you immediately fell to the floor from how weak your legs were. You squeaked, face planting the ground.

Changbin burst out in hysterical giggles, barely managing to pull himself together to tug his boxers back on and go to unlock the door. You briefly wondered what was going on, why he was so ready to answer the door in so little clothes, and… had he said Minho was coming? Oh. The lock was slid open by Changbin’s deft fingers and then the door followed afterwards, opened just enough to allow a body to enter.

“Um. Are they okay? Did you kill them?” You looked up at the familiar voice, seeing Minho standing there in front of your eyes. You blinked.

“What… why are you here?” You managed to get out. Minho simply laughed mirthlessly.

“Well, someone’s got to take responsibility for you and take you home when you’re fucked boneless, right?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You laid on Minho’s chest later that day, watching some random anime on his laptop perched on his lap. You weren’t even paying attention, thoughts running rampant. “Minho, is it weird you’re… um, letting me fuck your frat brothers?”

“Letting is the right word,” Minho hummed, fingers scratching over your scalp softly. “You make me feel good. Who would I be to deny my brothers the same pleasure?”

You nodded. It made sense, you supposed. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. But… are we…?”

Minho was brief, a monotone statement. “No more questions. You know what we are.”

You blinked. You nodded again, turning your attention back to the screen.

Whatever you and Minho were, your situationship that you had going on, you were content for the time being. You got to fuck around, live your hot bitch summer, and then go home to the one you wanted the most.

What could be more perfect, really?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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#seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader #juno’s fics ♡#seo changbin fanfiction #seo changbin fic #hot bitch summer: need some air #hot bitch summer #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin fic #changbin smut #changbin x reader #changbin x you

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chastiefoul · 9 months

Text

frozen in time | kaeya

back with kaeya angst word count: 1.1k words theme: neglect, regret

gone were the days where he looked at you and saw his world, and somehow he’d always find a way to remind you of that fact.

and today is just the last straw.

when you first started dating him, you wondered how could kaeya never get tired of sweet-talking and complimenting you and the answer came as naturally as breathing for him, you deserve it. now that a few years passed, and his song of praises gradually dulled.. in-between exasperated sighs and spaces, was he implying that you have become someone who is not worthy of it anymore?

⇲

“kaeya, will you come home early today?” you asked, voice still laced with sleep as you catch him already up and about in the break of dawn. funny how quickly things change. he used to be the hardest person the get rid of when you wake up in the morning as he cling into you until the very last second where he’d be late to work. but now even the hold of his arms when sunrise peeked is turning into a rare occasion.

the question lingered in the air, enough for it to sink into you how you’re now so accustomed in asking a question you never thought would be asking. kaeya who’d be running home the second his job allowed him to, spring on his step now barely come home early, now most often than not reeks of booze when coming home and you no longer have the heart to ask why. Not when the man seemed to be avoiding your shared house like a disease, going to work early, coming home late.

though sometimes a little bird with the title outrider would always tell you that kaeya drinks alone, it feels like it doesn’t mean anything anymore. nothing does, when he’s not by your side; and you’re starting to think that it’s not the case for him. kaeya has changed and unfortunately not for the better, not for you anyway. but you’re sure the knight of favonius hq was cheering now that the cavalry captain seemed to be taking his job more seriously.

he sighed, you stiffed slightly. he’s been doing that too many times these days, so loudly that you knew he’s making sure you heard it. making sure you know what you’ve asked inconvenienced him. “there’s a lot of work i need to catch up on,” he said coldly, tidying himself in front of a mirror, not sparing even a glance at you. your stomach tightened at the tone no matter how many times you’ve heard it, “okay, um.. well i’m planning making your favorite meal today for dinner, can you try?” you asked softly, another one of your many wasteful efforts to spend time with him, or lately, it feels like you wanted to reassure yourself that kaeya still loves and wanted to be with you. but why is it that each day the only reassurance you’re getting is that you’re being completely wrong?

no good morning or night, nothing of his gentle voice when speaking to you as he couldn’t seem to get his hands off you, no more of sweet nothing whispers, no more of... everything.

every day you keep building a hope that today will be different, that his reponse to something will be different, will get less cold but alas, those expectations keep being crushed by the man himself; leaving you to almost nothing to hang on onto this strained relationship except for the most important reason of all—that you love him. so completely utterly in love with him. however you’re not sure you can keep doing that when he slowly but surely showed that he perhaps no longer feel the same.

he let out another of his signature annoyed sigh. How many times must you be reminded that now kaeya thinks talking to you is a chore?

“i can’t, (y/n), just.. drop it okay?”

you knew that one, a rhetorical question he had expected the answer to, assuming that you’d be okay with that. well, you thought that maybe it’s finally time to tell him that you were definitely not okay. “no, kaeya, i will not drop it this time, what is it today? another drinking session that’s why you can’t come home early?”

he’s quiet for a moment.

“can you really blame me? the house feels a little suffocating lately.”

that stung. oh that stung like a bitch.

because you were there. the unsaid words were clear the second he let out those words and he knew that because his face turned into one of ‘fuck i didn’t mean to say that’ so quickly. regret apparent on his features.

you didn’t even know how else you’d react to this horrible revelation that you just laughed. but instead of joy that it emitted, it just sounded incredibly painful. the back of your eyes felt burning, the lump on your throat hurts. his hands reached out to you but the thought of him touching you right that second just felt revolting. “don’t. even.” you whispered, gritting your teeth.

“(y/n), i-“ kaeya started and you just had enough. you’ve heard him talk for far too long. “no. you felt suffocated by this relationship? tough. i felt unloved and unwanted for the past few months and you don’t see me drinking my life away at some bar. you know what i did? i tried. i fucking tried, kaeya. i woke up earlier so maybe we can talk more, i visited you at work to bring lunches even when what greeted me was a ‘thanks’ you muttered to your documents, i organized the file of work you brought home when you accidentally slept on your desk, i tried making your preferred meals for dinner in hope you’d come home and spend time with me like we used to, i-“ you took a deep breath, your voice had become so shaky from the threatening sobs of cries.

you covered your crying face with your palms, not giving him the luxury of your defeated face, the face of someone who tried and lost.

“i give up, kaeya. the house feels suffocating? then i’ll leave.” you whispered, tears streaming down your face as you started to go to your shared room, wanting to pack up your stuff. kaeya who has been stunned for the past two minutes, processing your outburst finally snapped out of his trance. remorse and sorrow were all over his face as the usually calm and collected male panicked.

“honey, wait please. fuck. i’m sorry. (y/n), please, don’t leave.” he followed you closely, knowing his place and didn’t dare to touch you. you kept adding clothes to your bag, packing as lightly as possible cause the main thing for you that second was to get away from him, get away from that house that was full of your past and memories.

beside you kaeya kept apologizing multiple times, yet it’s all like a jumble of noise in your head. he kept hovering over you until the last step before the door.

“please, i can’t live without you,” his voice was incredibly weak, strained and would absolutely made you caved in if it was a few weeks ago, before all his actions proved otherwise and your presence there was not a welcomed one.

“kaeya, you haven’t been living with me at all for the past few months except when we’re asleep, i think you can get used to me not being there pretty quickly, you’re very good at that, right?”

your words once again left the man stunned, he's having a hard time finding words that would make all of this a bit more okay however it would be the same as sticking a band-aid on a stabbed and bloody stomach. it doesn't fucking work.

you stared at the man who once made you believed he loved you. anger, frustration, and betrayal all flooded in your chest but above all of that it's just sorrow.

you left, not looking back even once.

part 2.......?

#genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin angst #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you

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tornado1992 · 3 months

Text

The world does not deserve some things.

It doesn’t deserve destruction, hate or cruelty.

Sonic has known this for quite a while, being some sort of fighter for nature or a so called “protector” of it by a lot of people, he’s not so sure about that though.

Just as the world can be beautiful it can become dreadful, the world gives origin to everything in it, and that everything is part of the world itself.

The people that live in it are the part that shows the contrast the most clearly, just as some inhabitants are kind, take care of each other and enjoy the wonders it has to offer, there was a few of them that seemed to spite everything that wasn’t like them, everything they didn’t like, and everything that wasn’t theirs. Sonic knows that, he’s been fighting that enough time to be named a protector.

All things considered, to him the world still meant kindness, endless opportunities, adventure… and it meant freedom.

Then it meant something else.

Between all his fighting and running, he met and befriended a lot of the ones that called him a hero before he could even process the title, some of them energetic, some hotheaded, and some unbothered, they reminded him that even if there was despair or tragedy, the world he knew and loved was still there.

At least it was there to him.

Getting to know all the world meant getting almost as much deception and anger as happiness, every new place meant new sceneries, new ways, and new people, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if it meant taking all the damage himself, getting to know everything personally was better than blindly trusting anything he was told, he knew it was worth it; he confirmed it when he went through one of the worst parts to find the absolute best one.

The place wasn’t even bad looking, the nature growing harmoniously beside the artificial work, it gave a peaceful kind of vibe, the people seemed kind and respectful, kids playing and chasing each other while adults looked out for them from afar, even welcoming him with open arms not caring if he was a stranger, “a united and caring community”, no sight of conflict or cruelty came to view, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them. Only kind words and even warm chilli dogs greeted him. He thought this was the kind of place he would fight for.

That thought lasted less than an hour.

It really doesn’t take much longer than 10 minutes to completely change your perspective of a so called perfect community when after thirty minutes of an apparent peaceful environment you notice the sick looking child they suddenly chase down the woods so he doesn’t “steal their food and gives them bad fortune”. Sonic gives them a full minute of doubt, doubt to himself as what he’s hearing and seeing, because that can’t be right, because it must be a mistake. What reason could there be for a kid to “give bad luck”? Why would a kid need to “steal” food? And why would he be called a “curse”?

Some villager takes a long four minutes to explain the reason for all that, falling down to “that mutant was born with two tails”.

Sonic spends the next five minutes looking for the kid, and restraining himself from committing several crimes.

He had to focus, ending a full village’s whole career can wait, what cannot wait is the fox kit that just ran away from a group of kids leaving a trail of blood behind him. Even in the thick forest tundra it’s easy to see the big droplets of blood on the tree branches, the ground, and the tiny bush that kept trembling.

That’s where he found him.

A fox kit, didn’t looked any older than two, but by what he heard he could even be four. He looked way too tiny to be around four.

Big baby blue eyes greet him, a glassy sight, sorrow, confusion and sadness behind them.

The moment the fox noticed the speedster he tried to run, but the bush was too thick around him, and his back was facing a big tree log, he was trapped, the kid flinched every time he moved towards him, whined whenever Sonic rose to stand, and even started silently tearing up while curling around his tiny bruised body when he tried to reach for him. This kid thought Sonic wanted to hurt him.

How much does a kid has to suffer for his first reaction to some one approaching him being to cry, tremble and try to protect themselves?

Sonic can’t decide what enrages him more, the matted brown fur that surely must mean a long time without proper care for it, the bruised skinny body that trembled every few seconds as if it couldn’t stand by itself, the obviously recent bleeding nose that made the fox kit whimper every time he breathed, or the so clear loud sound of an empty stomach.

This was the result of long period of abuse and neglect, and by the way the kid hugged his twin tails while crying, Sonic would even call it torture.

Sonic couldn’t help him without getting close to him, but the kit wouldn’t let him near him without flinching. Putting the kid through more distress was not an option, but leaving him alone wasn’t one either, and the kid needed help, so he stayed. Sitting beside the trembling bush, taking watch in case some of those hollow hearted villagers came back while thinking of a way of helping the kid.

This is not the kind of help Sonic is used to offer, but he cannot just leave the kit alone. Even if he didn’t know anything about taking care of younger kids, even if his first aid kit was almost empty in his plane far away from him, even if the fox cried at the very sight of him, Sonic won’t leave him alone.

He doesn’t remember feeling like this before. Frustrating, he remembers some adults calling it, a feeling of helplessness, anger, and even sadness that consumes one self through the impossibility of effective action, in his case, the impossibility of helping.

And so he found himself, frustrated, sitting on the forest ground while rubbing his eyes with his hand, who knew, frustration is stressful; he kept at that for a few long minutes, until he felt a slight touch in his back. Finding those big blue eyes when he turned his head, a tiny gloveless paw patting him gently, careful with his quills but yet touching them, trying to comfort him.

This kid could barely stand, was obviously scared, at the verge of tears, and hurting from the beating the other kids gave him; and he was trying to make Sonic feel better.

It was clear now, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them because they put all the cruelty and hatred in a kid, an innocent, tiny, and so kind hearted kid. The same village that greeted Sonic with kind words and offered him warm food was willing to let a literal toddler starve, if he wasn’t killed by the village’s youngest inhabitants first. All over something that wasn’t even bad, it wasn’t even his fault.

That won’t do.

Looking less distressed than before but still trembling wasn’t an ideal state to approach the twin tailed kit, but again, the kid needed help, the most urgent now being probably first aid, but Sonic sadly knew that the thing that would calm down the kid more would be something to eat.

Sonic offered him a smile, an attempt to soothe him, standing as slowly as he could not to scare the kid, and running as fast as his legs allowed him to return with four chili dogs was the game plan, managing to startle the kid a little bit with his rushed return, with the most difficult part of the plan being convincing the kid that the food was for him, that he could eat, that it wouldn’t hurt him, that Sonic wouldn’t hurt him.

Words might be useful to communicate that, but they just might, this kid was obviously casted away from society, who knew since when, he might not even understand him, well, if he used words that is, for now he hopes his smile would do (that and him eating a chili dog himself so the kit would know it’s safe).

It took a while, but it seemed like the fox’s empty stomach finally convinced him to eat, his hands trembling as he grabbed the supper, eyes getting a different kind of teary as he took his first bite, his twin tails wagging as he devoured his second chili dog.

Sonic wasn’t much of a baby person, sure they were cute and all he didn’t saw the big deal, all babies were the same. But seeing this little kid, a hurt toddler, starting to smile and wet his eyes over something as simple as warm food.. while a part of him was burning with rage, another part of him couldn’t help but think that he wanted to see this kid truly smile.

He wonders how could anyone see this kid with anything but love.

So he stayed around him, always with a smile, but even bandages, chili dogs, and big smiles couldn’t help much with the kids perspective of the word, much less the perception of himself.

The only world the fox knew before Sonic was a merciless one, rejection, hate and cruelty being its main traits, with bad people who would hunt him down, hit him and hurt him because he was the bad one, just for existing in the same time and place as all of them, but not being the same as them. He believed he really was the bad one for some time.

Sonic wouldn’t allow that for any longer, so he took the best part of the world with him and never planned to return it.

His life wasn’t the ideal deal for a toddler, he couldn’t give him a traditional family structure, a roof over his head, or a warm bed, but he also didn’t trusted anyone else to take care of him, he didn’t trusted the world to take care of him. So he would take the job himself, this kid wouldn’t go a day without warm food, he would never lack shelter, and as long as Sonic was around, he would always protect him.

But Sonic still was a hero.

Sonic fought and ran, ran and fought, and when the running and fighting from him alone seemed like not enough, the kit didn’t even doubted risking his own life to help him.

After a life of suffering, as little and scared as he was, at barely four years old, he still wanted to protect the world that wronged him.

The world doesn’t deserve this kid.

But it was the world itself that gave Sonic the title of protector, guardian, and hero; he knows there are things worth fighting for, far more than the things that wouldn’t deserve any kind of protection.

He won’t deny the title, ever.

Because even if some day everything around him comes down, everyone gets mad and bad, and his own hope is questioned, he’ll still have a reason to fight.

After all, this kid is his world.

#miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they are cosmic truth #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wsatw #sth #he loves this kid #kinda based on thatbirdguy s tails ratify au #tailsratifyau #can still be read as the regular canon #tried to make it ambiguous enough but still put some references in there #their art so good u gotta see it #the bros #and remember they are each other’s world #baby miles tails prower #baby tails #they are brothers your honor

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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

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can you write one where f!MC is being pursued by an annoying guy she doesn’t like who won’t take no for an answer. it annoys sebastian just as much as it annoys her, so next time it happens he pretends to be her boyfriend and suggests they start fake dating for good measure. eventually they make it for real.

thank you! i love the fake relationship trope sooo much and i’ve yet to see anyone write one with sebastian.

of course, lovely anon!! i haven't seen any fake relationship fic either so i'm happy to contribute a lil something! tbh i sincerely thought this would be a short ficlet but it ended up being just over 2.5k fluffy words of dummies in love 🤩

Title: rumor has it

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

"Northcott," Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. "Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?" "Your girlfriend?" Eric asks skeptically. "That's new." "I suppose it is," Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. "Been a long time coming, though." Across the room, Ominis laughs under his breath.

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—

Once Ominis overhears Cressida waxing poetic about Sebastian Sallow practically mounting his new girlfriend in the hallway by the Grand Staircase, he doesn’t wonder why the two of you never show up for dinner.

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #eric northcott #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #i LOVE omniscient meddlesome ominis if you can't tell #also i swear the next thing i write is going to be pure filth bc i've been doing cute for several days in a row #unbeta'd we die like men

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

happiness comes in ice cream - m.verstappen

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: max verstappen x reader

warnings: mentions of jos + healing inner childhood

a/n: no f1 this weekend means not being disappointed.. but also if you can donate and help imola please follow the link here. feedback is always appreciated xx

max has a pretty perfect life. he’s got a world championship title, an amazing car and team, perfect support, and a perfect significant other. the one thing that stands in his way for true happiness, his father.

you’ve heard the countless stories of how his father, jos, never treated him like a child always like a pawn of success or an adult at the young ages. it saddens you, that he never had a real childhood, and it hurts even more that he thinks the treatment he got was normal.

you told him your upbringings, they aren’t perfect either, but in comparison you can’t complain. your dad never made you walk home because you lost a race. max deserved true happiness, and everyday you see him fight his father more and more for that distance. the distance for a better life.

“horrible race. p2? you can’t let checo out pace you.” jos scoffs his son, you can see the anger in his fathers eyes. the disappointment, like his son hadn’t done enough and tried his best.

“it just wasn’t in the cards.” max shrugs, it bothers him to get second. he’s a perfectionist at heart and wants every race to be his best, but when he looks at you? all of his anger and frustration diminishes.

“you did well.” you chime in, hand reaching for his, he takes it. lips pressing a sweet soft kiss to your knuckles as he mumbles a thank you.

jos just tries to snap his son out of it, you can see in Max’s eyes he’s exhausted from his routine. even if he gets pole position his father is still not happy, there’s just no win. it’s starting to affect your relationship with his family, you can’t look jos in the eyes yet alone stand to have a decent conversation with him.

you try to push a smile, act like things are fine but max notices when the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. he notices when you’re not okay and how his father makes you uncomfortable.

“just leave us alone, okay?” max drops his helmet on the desk in the drivers room, he’s turning to his dad, who expected it was you he was talking to.

he’s shocked, his eyes dart between you and his son, “we aren’t finished we have to talk about improvement—“

“I want nothing more than to just have a talk not about racing. y/n can give me that, you can’t.” he’s lightly pushing his father out the door until he’s able to close the space between you two and his fathers emotions.

max lets out a deep long sigh, “checo looked happy.” he smiles, arms pulling you into his body, lips gently pressing against your lips. you love your alone time with him, the way he’s so affection it’s different than his composure to the rest of the world.

“you look happy right now.” you reach for the Red Bull hat that’s covering his messy dirty blond hair, you toss it aside, fingers running up and down his cheeks, “I like it when you’re happy.”

a smile spreads across his face, “you make me happy.”

“you want to get ice cream? you deserve it for a good race.” you offer, he always said his father never rewarded him for his hard work as a kid, it’s your turn to try and give him the things he couldn’t have.

“I was thinking more about having sex, but I like ice cream too.”

—

Charles takes pole position in Baku, it’s his first time that high up on the board and you both couldn’t have been prouder for the Ferrari.

you can hear Max’s phone ringing in his bag in his drivers room, and you take it upon yourself to turn it off. you know who’s calling, max knows it as well, but he ignores the sound of the text notifications when he walks in the room and just presses a kiss to your lips and takes his hat.

“I thought you did good out there. lots of challenges.” you rub his back with your finger nails following him out of the room and into the garage, where everyone is congratulating him on, a successful, qualifying.

he turns around, hand bringing your knuckles to his lips, “ice cream afterwards?” he asks, the happy spark in his eyes that make you smile.

“ice cream afterwards.”

—

“nothing tastes better than victory, but this is good.” he licks the drops of the melting strawberry and vanilla cold cream down his cone. you chuckle watching the millions of paper napkins he’s holding disintegrate.

“I told you to get a bowl.” you laugh taking one of your clean napkins and wipe the pink colored cream off his face.

he never splurges to gain weight during the season, always trying to stay fit, but when a wins a win he knows the offer for ice cream is up on the table and he’ll never turn it down. he admits, he wishes he got this during childhood, but he’s happy he gets it with you.

“you got chocolate on your nose.” he licks his thumb before swiping it over your nose gently, he takes what’s on his thumb and tastes it, “a little bit of you and chocolate. I like it.” he hums in satisfaction.

“I heard there’s a playground a couple blocks away, we should go use the swings.” you suggest, watching the white cream slip onto his black shorts. he groans using one of his napkins and water to try to wash it away.

“now I have to go home and change, I can’t show up looking like this.”

“it’s a playground, nobody cares if you’re dirty.” you laugh finishing the bowl and set the styrofoam down on the bench beside you, he lets you take a couple of bites of his ice cream to help him finish.

“thank you.” he says, sticky hand reaching to touch your thigh. you want to grimace at the touch, but you know he never had moments like this with his own family. he never had someone to take him for a treat that he deserves, so you let him.

“for what, max?”

“making me happy.”

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 6 months

Text

DP x DC prompt. ~“Unstable connection”~ Dead on main.

Part 9.3. "A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." — Elbert Hubbard

~~~~~

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Part 8. Part 9. New: Part 9.1. Part 9.2. Part 9.3.

Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Meme break №1. Part 13.

Roy: Look, I’m deeply flattered that you decided to talk about your feelings with me because you bats are allergic to them, but you’re seriously telling me that you’re texting a guy from out of Gotham? What for?

Jason: Do I need a reason?

Roy: Usually not, but I know you’re paranoid.

A cookie flies straight into Roy’s head.

Jason: Shut up. I know how to relax. He’s just a guy. No harm from boyf- a friend.

Roy: What you see in him? No, I rather have to ask how he tolerates you. I deserve a reward for being your best friend.

Jason: Hey, actually, I like Bizarro a lot more, just so you know, jerk. And we actually have more in common than it seems. He gets along with dead people who hang out in his town a lot. And.. I don’t know, okay? It’s just easy to talk to him, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would yell if he found out about me something weird for any other stranger. He feels like home. Safe one. I can rest when I talk to him, you know?

Roy: So you trust him? With everything?

Jason: I’m not an idiot and I’m not going to reveal everything until we talk offline. I don’t even know if I want to. Of course he’s not afraid of the undead from his town and he didn’t convict Hood for his actions when I asked him for his opinion, but talking about a specific person and some vigilante from the shadows is different. I don’t want him to be afraid of me or be disappointed in me. But somehow part of me believes that he will take this side of me. I sent him a picture with knives on my thighs, and he didn’t care. And one time, I messed up the chats and I sent him a threat that was meant to check on my new guys. He yelled at me. Because I could be reported to the police.

Roy: Well, if you like him, just try not to screw it up.

Jason: I’m trying. And by the way if Dick finds out about our conversation, I’ll throw you in the river.

Roy: Dude, you’ve known me for years! I bet you don’t threaten your lover like that! Have some trust.

Jason: Okay. So, I don’t know what to do, Roy. Fenton is perfect. But he’s a civilian. Phantom looks dead handsome but I know almost nothing about him. And what I know I learned from Danny. And now the fic that I’m writing is full of adult-rated scenes. Of course, I don’t add them to my work on ao3, but it’s still so weird.

Roy: Have you tried sending this to Fenton? With any luck, he’ll take it as flirting.

Jason: What? Hell no! He thinks I’m a mercenary for Red Hood. He’s gonna think I have wet fantasies about my boss and I’m gonna lose all self-respect, and he’s gonna block me and...

Roy: Okay, okay, slow down a little. We both know you’re weird, but you’re not that weird. And he’s not even your boyfriend. So his opinion doesn’t really matter.

Jason *whispers*: He's my husband. And it does.

Roy: Dude, I mean, I support your vibe but isn’t this guy supposed to know that he’s gonna have the title of the husband of a crime lord first.

Jason: Fair.

~~~~~~~

~Next morning~

Dick: So, I heard my Little Wing has a boyfriend. What’s his name? When are you bringing him to the family dinner?

Jason:…I’m gonna kill Harper. ~~~~~~~

Bizarro *on his way to tell all to Artemis and impress his good friend’s boyfriend*. First, he can leave a Red Hood doll by the window of a couple of his friend. It’ll help him understand that Bizarro isn’t dangerous and then the boy will want to be his friend too. Good plan, Pup Pup!

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship

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suiana · 1 year

Note

Could I please request some yandere prince headcannons? Darling’s probably a servant or guard!

I love princes! even more if they're unhinged 😇

✎ yandere! prince headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― manipulation, violence, degradation, obsession etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! prince who was the youngest child of the empire's royal family. obviously being spoiled with riches since young, getting anything and everything he desired.

✎ yandere! prince who was the star of the empire, being perfect in almost every aspect. from sword fighting, to academics, to even his looks. he was almost like a gift from the gods above! if only it weren't for his violent tendencies when he gets mad.

✎ yandere! prince who always showcases the best side of himself to the masses. after all, he is the face of the royal family. being the perfect son, he was worshipped like a deity. and what deity would be a cruel one? no, he had to be perfect. he had to be the perfect, kind, caring and respectful son of the empire.

✎ yandere! prince who releases his pent up anger and stress on those around him in subtle ways. from making his personal servants feel lesser than him to choking his advisor when he made a small mistake... i mean, being asked to be perfect all the time has really taken a toll on his mental health, y'know?

✎ yandere! prince who has always had the same group of servants serve him since young. no one else was qualified to serve him! he's their perfect prince after all, he should only be receiving the best. it's also to prevent his unruly habits from getting leaked. it would be really disastrous if word got out that their beloved prince was secretly violent!

✎ yandere! prince who never thought about those below him before he met you. you were such a clumsy little thing! accidentally bumping into him while running down the palace hallways... god, you were so freaking adorable. and the way you actually didn't know who he was until his advisor shouted at you... oh, you had him intrigued. there was someone who dared to not know him? how interesting indeed...

✎ yandere! prince who requests for you to serve him. can you imagine the shock on the head maid's and head butler's faces when they heard that their perfect prince wanted an inexperienced and new servant to serve him? oh how jealous they were! someone like you? serving the famed prince? that was something that the lowly people could only dream of!

✎ yandere! prince who only becomes more intrigued by you when you treat him like a friend instead of your master. he's the prince and you're just a lowly commoner! and he even berated you and called you a peasant to try and make it clear to you about your status difference! did you have so much kindness in your heart that you overlooked that? or were you just a dumb klutz??

✎ yandere! prince who realizes that you were truly just a kind person when you defended a child from getting bullied. you didn't even have any benefit from doing that so what made you do that? you were truly so interesting...

✎ yandere! prince who has his obsession with you solidified when you reply his question. "do i need a reason to help another person?" oh my...you were far too precious... it's truly a shame that you happened to end up catching his attention because he's never letting you go now. no... most definitely not. especially after you made him realize that there existed such a kind person. someone truly untainted, someone who deserved the title of a deity way more than him.

✎ yandere! prince who still treats you like dirt when others are around. he feels slightly bad but...it's still amusing to see you act so submissive and obedient. he wishes he could worship you publicly though, you deserve it. but he can't. for if he does, what will become of the royal family? royalty no more and just a mere mockery is what will be of him if he just as much as treats you like an equal. so for now, he'll have to worship you behind closed walls in the dead of the night.

✎ "little dove, get on your knees and clean my shoes. there's dust on them."

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere hcs #yandere headcanons #yandere prince #yandere prince headcanons #yandere prince x reader

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ohmykiyo · 11 months

Text

🪦 title ; tracing over their tattoos w/ tr boys genre ; lowercase intended characters ; draken, kazutora, rindou, ran, hanma 🗝️ jeilly's notes ; i'm in love with the tr series, so might as well start writing for them reqs are open!

DRAKEN sighs tiredly as he leans impossibly closer to your touch. he's so out of it, he doesn't notice the way you cradle him as if he's the most fragile thing known to mankind.

he doesn't know why you treat him as if one wrong touch from you will cause him to shatter. he's not a child, he's not glass.. he's toman's number two for god's sake.

but the way you drag your fingers across the tattoo on his temple, he can't help but melt.

you trace it, eyes closed, letting out small breaths.

you've memorized every twist and turn of the tattoo, it's almost muscle memory.

you can't help but allow your fingers to leave a feather-like trail of your touch.

draken hums contentedly.

if there's one place he'd have to choose to stay in forever..

it would be here.

on your chest.

with your fingers tracing along the black color inked into his skin.

KAZUTORA feels like he's still asleep, living in a dream. how could he believe that you, of all people, became his most prized possession.

he doesn't believe he deserves an ounce of your affection.

an ounce of your love.

he doesn't believe he deserves you at all.

but the way you caress his neck, fingers combing through his blonde layered hair, whispering sweet nothings into his ear..

he can't help but pray that this isn't a dream.

he prays and prays.

until he feels your soft fingers trail along the tattoo on his neck.

he flinches.

you notice.

but you continue to trace along the perfect ink.

every turn and swirl, you trace over them.

your touch leaves him breathless. it leaves him craving for more.

he presses sweet kisses along your collarbone, shivering at the feather-light touch of your fingers.

RINDOU was always second-best to everyone else. he was never just "rindou", he was always "ran's brother".

so, when he met you.. imagine the shock plastered all over his face when you mumbled the sweetest greeting he's ever heard, "oh, hi rindou."

you didn't call him "ran's brother" you called him rindou. just rindou.

now he lays in your shared bed, lying on top of your warm body, cheek smooshed into your chest.

he's calm.

the way you caressed his arms, humming a random song, he feels at home.

but the way your fingers glide over the matching tattoo he has with his brother, he can't help but shiver under your touch.

your nails scratch over the ink gently, sending a shiver up his spine.

he can't help it, but every time you map out every line, every turn..

he falls in love all over again.

the touch of your soft fingers compared to his calloused ones lulled him to sleep.

and that became his favorite way to fall.

in your arms, fingers gliding over the pigmented ink, and your sleepy eyes shimmering so brightly at him.

RAN was having the hardest day at work.

he came home mumbling little complaints here and there, not even acknowledging his pretty girl who's eyeing him intently.

you know these days are always the hardest for him.

so what's better than having him sprawled out over your body, laying gentle kisses on your soft skin?

he smiles, finally dumping his whole weight onto you.

he doesn't notice it at first.

but your fingers trailed lightly over the dark colored drawing inked into his skin.

his lets out a shaky sigh, mumbling into your chest about how it "feels good".

you chuckle at the vibrations of his voice, sending your chest a little tickle.

you continue.

dragging your fingers over the pretty lines on his arm.

mapping every single turn and twist, engraving it into your memory.

it doesn't take long for it to pull ran into the best nap he's ever had.

HANMA runs to you after beating the shit out of a random member of an opposing gang.

he runs to you, a big grin visible on his lips.

you roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest while an uptight expression makes its way to your face.

you hated it when your boyfriend got into fights.

you hated it because he would run back to you, bruises covering his pretty face.

and you hated it because he would return with dark marks all over his knuckles.

he slumps his body over yours, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.

you were mad. of course you were. but how could you ever deny your sweet boy access to your affection?

you sigh, nudging him away gently before taking both his hands.

examining the dark bruises and small cuts, you frown.

bringing both hands up to your lips, you press a sweet kiss to each bruise and cut.

hanma watches you in awe, his heart swelling at the sight.

his heart swells even further at the way your thumb rubs against the dark color inked into the back of his hand.

you caress it gently, your finger following the trail of lines.

he definitely thinks he should start fights more often if that means he gets to see you trace over his tattoo over and over again.

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dotster001 · 3 months

Text

For Tuna; Rook End

A/N: editing this is gonna suck, cause Tumblr is so glitchy today 😭 but as I'm sure no one is surprised...some of you have been waiting a long time for this specific ending, so I figured he deserved his own title . The next ending is a three way tie, so keep an eye out for a poll in the next couple days.

Chapters One Two Three Choose another End

“Rook Hunt, you have been chosen-”

“At last! The moment has come!”

Grim was immediately second guessing his decision. Y/N had told him all about how Rook's family had multiple villas, so he'd thought he'd be willing to put up with him the one day a year he'd have to. But the man was far too excited.

“Wonderful,” Grim said through gritted teeth. “So what we'll do is, tomorrow-”

“You're adorable, Monsieur Fuzzball. No need for that though!”

“Huh?”

“I don't need you. Au revoir!”

Rook practically skipped out of the room, singing a cheery tune to himself.

….

Grim was terrified. All day he'd been waiting for whatever Rook had planned. He'd stuck to your side all day, quivering in anxiety.

“Okay, Grim, what's wrong?” You asked, finally tired of ignoring it for the sake of his pride.

“N- nothing is wrong, human! You insult me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered.

You closed the book you'd been reading during the break in the lesson, and turned to him.

“Okay, so what's not wrong, then?”

Grim mumbled under his breath. But you soon forgot all about it, as the lights in the classroom dimmed, followed by a shower of rose petals raining down on all of you.

“Who is responsible?” Trein bellowed, but he was soon forgotten as well, as Rook appeared at the front under a single spotlight, violin music playing to his entrance.

“Bon jour!”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, quickly realizing that Grim was no longer by your side. He must have taken the opportunity to flee classes. Little rat.

“I am here because I can no longer keep silent about my affections!” He pressed one hand to his heart, the other dramatically extending to the classroom. “I am deeply in love.”

You looked to see if Trein would stop him, but just watched him sigh. Even the teacher knew to just let Rook be Rook.

“Mon Trickster! My heart beats so hard for you, it is apt to burst into a bloody mess of my adoration.”

There was now a second spotlight on you. You looked around to see where it was coming from, only to find there was no source of it.

A gust of wind picked up around Rook, making the rose petals that had fallen to the floor pick up, and swirl around him.

“Mon Tresor, say that you will allow me to forever kneel at your feet. Say that you will allow me to sing your adoration until my vocal cords tear. Say that I can write you poetry until my fingers fall off. Say-”

“God, Rook! I'd rather have you in one piece,” you cut him off with a laugh.

He stood upright with a light smile, swirling a finger in the air to turn the rose petals into a single rose. He gently kissed it, then tossed it to you across the classroom. You caught it, sniffing it and letting the aroma wash over you.

By the time you looked back up, he was standing right in front of you. You blinked, looking at the spot he was standing, then back at where he stood now. He smiled as though he was unperturbed by your confusion.

“If I stay in one piece, will you pledge your soul to me?” He asked sweetly.

“My soul? Not my heart?”

“For Seven’s sake, tell the boy whether you love him or not, so I can move on with the class,” Trein snapped.

“Okay! Rook, I like you too!” You said quickly.

“How exciting!” He snapped his fingers, and you heard the beginning of an orchestral intro.

Rook inhaled heavily, and began to sing.

“Goodness, class dismissed!” Trein shouted over the aria, which was not going to stop anytime soon. You gave Trein a pleading look. While you liked Rook, and were totally happy to start seeing him, this song sounded like it would go on for a while. Trein gave you an apologetic look as he shut the door of the classroom, locking it behind him.

....

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#for tuna #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt

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missrosegold · 6 days

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someone new

Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.

He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.

Word count: 16K

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)

Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!

Title is from Someone New by Hozier

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.

It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.

A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.

He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:

He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.

It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.

It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)

He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.

He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.

That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.

For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.

That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.

Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.

He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.

Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)

He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.

The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.

The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.

It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.

Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.

The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.

His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.

He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.

Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.

And then he met you.

Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

-----

He remembers the first time he met you.

After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.

There he had started his rehabilitation.

It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.

In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.

It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.

Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.

He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.

Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.

He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.

Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.

He was more relieved than he thought he would be.

More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.

Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.

Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.

He remembers the day you met for the first time.

He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.

You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.

“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.

You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”

He sat.

He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.

A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.

He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.

You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.

A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”

You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”

“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”

“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”

That caught his attention.

“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.

He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.

He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.

He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.

“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”

That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.

“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”

You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.

“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”

“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”

“Of you? No.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”

That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.

“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.

You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”

He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.

“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”

“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”

He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.

“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”

You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”

It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.

He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.

You were lucky you were attractive.

The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.

“Mr. Todoroki?”

“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.

“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”

You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.

“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust.

Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.

“So, what now then?”

“Now we talk I guess.”

“About what?”

“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”

Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.

“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”

To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”

That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.

“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.

Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”

He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”

He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”

You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.

For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.

He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.

He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.

True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.

He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.

You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.

There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.

Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.

In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.

He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.

“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”

“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”

It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.

“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”

“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”

For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you.

Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.

“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”

“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”

“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”

“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.

“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”

“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”

“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.

In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.

He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.

Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.

Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.

There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.

It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.

You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.

He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.

It had been nice. Comfortable, even.

He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.

“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.

“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”

It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.

He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”

“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”

You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.

At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.

Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.

It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.

When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.

The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him.

Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.

You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.

You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”

You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”

It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.

When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.

You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.

He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.

He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.

He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.

There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.

You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.

He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.

He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.

For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.

When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.

He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.

A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.

Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.

You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.

“You left.”

You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”

“Why did you go?”

You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”

He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”

You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.

“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”

You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”

He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”

He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”

For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.

“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”

“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.

“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”

“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”

“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”

Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”

You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.

“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”

That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.

He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.

What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.

Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.

“What do you want Touya?”

What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.

“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.

“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.

“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.

“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”

He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.

You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.

“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”

In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.

“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”

“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”

A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”

You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.

“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”

He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”

You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”

He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:

“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”

You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”

“Oh. They not in the country, or—”

“We’ll go with that.”

Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”

You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”

He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.

“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”

“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.

The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.

“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.

In the end, you’d kept your promise.

It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.

Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.

You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.

“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.

He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.

Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.

Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:

He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.

The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.

His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.

The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.

His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.

“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”

You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.

“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”

“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.

To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.

His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.

“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”

The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.

He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.

Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:

He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.

He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.

He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.

He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood.

He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.

He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.

As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.

As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.

Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.

“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.

Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.

He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.

It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.

Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.

As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.

He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”

You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”

He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”

He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”

You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.

“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.

The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.

You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.

He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.

“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”

Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.

He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.

“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”

Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.

He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.

Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.

A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.

He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.

You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.

You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.

“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”

It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.

He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.

He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.

“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”

“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”

“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.

“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”

“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”

He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.

You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.

“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”

That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.

That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.

After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.

It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being.

All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.

For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.

While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.

He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—

-----

The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you.

He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:

His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.

He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.

It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.

His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.

Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.

He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.

He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.

He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.

Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.

He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.

If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.

He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.

He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.

He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.

He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.

He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.

Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily.

He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.

The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off. He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.

“You’re home early.”

You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”

He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”

You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”

He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”

“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”

“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”

You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.

The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.

“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.

“I really missed you; I mean.”

You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”

“Mmmm.”

His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”

He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.

“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.

“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”

“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.

He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.

He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.

He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.

He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.

“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.

You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.

“Not today babe, let me do the work.”

He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.

“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”

“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”

He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.

The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.

He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.

He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”

“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”

Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.

He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.

“Eyes on me gorgeous.”

“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.

“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.

“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.

“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”

He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.

“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”

He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him.

“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.

“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”

“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”

“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”

“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”

“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.

“I’m crazy remember?”

“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”

You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.

“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.

“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:

“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”

“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.

“No, you were better.”

He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”

“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.

“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”

He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.

He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.

You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.

“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”

FIN

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