#i hope you enjoy this since it’s your first tumblr event! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months

Text

need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

2K notes · View notes

aritsukemo · 2 months

Text

Your 25th Birthday | Multiple Characters

Characters: Obanai Iguro, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Kanae Kocho

Warnings: Angsty themes ahead! Takes place after the canonical events of Demon Slayer but in an au where the characters who died survive! Reader is crippled in a few of these ( Kyojuro's s/o especially has been through hell and is heavily implied to be paralyzed from the waist down. There are also implications that she's been burned, cut up, etc. ) so read at your own risk!

Summary: It's the night before their marked!s/o's 25th birthday! How do they spend it with them? 🤔

A/N: I wrote this scenario over on Wattpad for a special and I really liked how it came out so I wanted to share some of my favorite parts over here on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy it! 😁

"Do you think we'll meet each other in every life?" The question was whispered out in the dead of night as you sat on the engawa of your estate. Obanai sat next to you, being used for both support and a source of comfort. You watched the stars twinkle in the sky, a forgone look in your eyes that he's never seen before. It was unnerving to him since it felt like he was staring at a breathing corpse..

"Of course. If that's what you want, I'll find you in every life," He answered to which you hummed, your expression unchanging from the one of unsettling contentment.

"What if something happens to prevent us from being together?" You muttered grimly despite the smile painted on your face. Obanai was quicker answering this time around, "Nothing would prevent me from being with you. Nothing."

"Even if I'm a total jerk?" You questioned. He answers, "Even if you're a total jerk."

"Even if we're on opposite sides of the world?" You continued. He answers, "Even if we're on opposite sides of the world."

"Even if I turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat you?" And then he pauses. You giggle at him despite the bad taste the lack of answer gives you and mutter out a soft, "Sorry. That was mean of me to ask. Forget—"

"Even.." This time, you pause. Your head bobbing back to look up at him and those marvelous mismatched eyes of his. He's already looking at you by that time. He's been doing so the entire time, never once glancing at the night sky since the two of you sat down.

He continues, "..Even if you turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat me," He says, "I can't promise that we would be together in that life, but in the afterlife, I'd do everything in my power to make you the happiest person in the world."

You hadn't realized it until he moved his hand from your waist and started rubbing at your cheeks that you had started crying. Even when you did realize it, you didn't do anything besides let the tears fall because even if you wanted to wipe away the tears, you had long lost feeling in your arms to do so.

In the end, you smother your face into his haori, not caring that you suddenly felt the cool scales of Kaburamaru as he wrapped himself snugly—but not too tightly—around your neck.

"Thank you.." You sniveled as your tears wet his shoulder, "Thank you so much for loving me, Obanai.."

"Thank you for allowing me to love you, Y/n," He said back as he let you stain his shoulder with your tears.

"Awh, don't cry, pretty girl.. Not over me," You cooed as your fingers ran through the pink of Mitsuri's hair. She was hunched over on the bedside, face in your lap and her fat, wet tears dripping down her stained cheeks—passing the moles under her eyes that you love to kiss—and splashing onto your kimono.

She had worked so hard trying to mentally prepare herself for tonight, but when she entered the room and saw your tired, smiling face staring back at her, she broke down.

There was still so much she wanted to do with you! So many dates she wanted to take you on! So many foods she wanted to cook and try with you! So many firsts she still hasn't been able to take from you and so many firsts you haven't had the time to take from her! So many memories she still wanted to make with you!

Why can't she be given just a little more time with her sweetheart? She gets that this sacrifice was a necessary one and she wouldn't be here otherwise if it weren't for you pushing yourself the extra mile and saving her, but she can't help the sinking feeling of regret that drags her heart down to her stomach by a chain of sorrow at the thought of you leaving..

"I- I'm..so sorry.." She managed to say between sobs, "I'm.. I'm sorry...I.."

"Sorry for what, honey?' You asked her in a tender tone, "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I.. I.." She takes a moment, unable to form a proper sentence without choking on her own sobs, "I'm sorry for being such a horrible wife!" Now, you certainly weren't expecting that out of all things..

Your brows furrow as your hand stills in her hair, "You aren't a bad wife, honey," You said, trying your best to sound firm despite the slight tremor in your voice from exhaustion.

"Yes, I am!" She wailed, "I haven't been able to do anything for you! You.. You were always the one caring for me and I haven't been able to fulfill any of your needs or do anything you should be proud of!"

"Hey, hey, hey," You shushed, "Look at me..please," And she listens immediately like a puppy at your beck and call. She lifts her head, her big green eyes puffy and filled to the brim with tears despite the constant stream that flows down her pink, warmed cheeks.

"You are an amazing wife, alright? Marrying you was the best thing to ever happen to me," You told her, putting a slight pause between each word to better emphasize your statement. You used your fingers to urge her to come closer and she complies, inching closer until she's close enough so that you could cup her face.

"You simply waking up and smiling at me everyday is enough for me. Seeing you happy and healthy is enough for me, do you understand me?" You asked, the shake in your voice getting worse, "You've done everything to satisfy me. If anything, I should apologize to you for not granting your wishes."

What are you talking about? There's no way you seriously think that, right?

"No! Don't apologize!" Suddenly pushing herself up with her arms, her face suddenly got so close to yours that you had to move your had back so that you two didn't accidentally bump heads, "My wish was to marry someone who'd love me for me.. Wh-.. Who'd love my freakish strength and my weird hair color and my abnormal appetite and you've done that better than anyone ever could!" As she talks, her cool tears drip onto your warm hands and scatter upon contact, "You've made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and you've spoiled me at every turn! You've made my life feel like it was worth living, so please—!" She moves forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and putting her tearful face into your shoulder, "Don't downplay your hard work! I can't bear you doing that after you've given so much to me!"

And with that, she crumbles all over again on your shoulder, and to your surprise, you do too. As her grip loosens and she slides down your body, ending with her head at your lap once again and bawling into it, you felt your eyes welling up with tears.

"Mitsuri.." Your throat began to ache from trying to keep your voice steady as your bottom lip began tremble. You tried to control yourself further by slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob that threatened to slip from your lips, but your tears rolled from your eyes without your permission and down your hand, dripping onto your beloved before you could catch them with your other hand..

In the end, a particularly loud hiccup sounded your defeat and you bowed your head. Your hands sliding over your face as you cried with the former Love Hashira who you are grateful to call your spouse in this life.

"It's been a while since I've seen that expression on your face," You said as you gazed up at the prettiest woman you've ever laid your eyes on. Her thin brows dipped and wrinkling her smooth, porcelain-like skin just like the thin line she made with her lips, which you notice twitch just a tad at your comment.

She doesn't say anything to retort what you said. Not a witty remark or sarcastic, irritated utterance or a flowery deflection leaving her pink-painted lips. She simply gazes down in silence, her polished thumb rubbing lines into the back skin of your hand in a steady motion. It causes your eyes to frown and otherwise droop as you realize that your simple attempt at relieving the tense atmosphere in the room has failed.

"Shinobu," You call, "Can you smile for me?" And she listens, her brows lifting just like her lips as they form into that perfect smile that took her years to perfect. Just the sight of it makes you frown.

"Not like that. I want to see a genuine smile.." You mutter and just like that, her smile drops and her brows knit together once again. This time, though, it's all brought together by the vein flexing on her forehead.

"How am I suppose to do that when my wife is dying in front of me?" She asks, voice quiet and complimented by a vexed tone. In the past, you always hated when she got mad at you. Seeing her so visibly irked was frightening, even more so when it was directed at you..

But right now, hearing her angry tone and seeing her infuriated expression brought you nothing but comfort and caused your smile to return. She notices it and it pushes her to ask you in an exasperated tone, "How can you do that?"

You blink, confused "Do what?"

"Smile," She tells you, "You of all people know what's about to happen, but you still smile at me.."

"What's wrong with that? Can't I smile at the woman I fell head over heels for until I stop breathing?" You egg on and that little nudge is all she needs to be pushed over the edge and for her to explode and for tears of pure frustration to fill her eyes.

"Stop joking around!" Her voice comes out raised and aggressive, like an angry dog ready to attack someone. She must've realized that, because she grits her teeth and sucks in a breath. Taking a few seconds to collect herself a little before continuing. Her voice was still brimming with anger, but sounding more controlled.

"You're going to die any minute now. Don't you understand that? You're going to pass away and leave everything behind..you're going to leave me alone here.. You know all of that, yet you still smile at me without a hint of regret or sadness, and I'm sorry, but I can't stand looking at you like that!"

"Why would I have regrets?" You ask, "I achieved all my goals and did everything I wanted to do in this lifetime. Kibutsuji is dead. There are no more demons terrorizing the innocent. And, I was able to live the rest of my years surrounded by the ones I love and cherish. I even got the bonus of becoming a Kocho and marrying the woman of my dreams," You say, rubbing at your finger as the ring on it flashes in the moonlight that shines down through the singular window in the room, "What's there to regret?"

"What about the fact that everything is coming to an end? You won't be here to make memories with me or any of your friends or family?" As the tears fall down her cheeks, Shinobu finds herself balling her hands into fists. She despised crying, especially when in the presence of others, but she couldn't control herself. Like an immature little kid, she couldn't control her emotions and her blood boiled all the more because of it.

"I'll always be here, even if it's not physically," You told her softly and she starts matching your tone, although the agitation in hers is still so apparent.

"Be serious for one second, Y/n," She snapped, only for you to follow up with, "I've been serious this entire time, love."

Then her tone raises again, "No, you haven't!" And then it falls again as she lets out an embarrassing choke, "T- There's..no way you have. How could you possibly be fine with this?"

"Because I know that as long as the people I love are still here to remember me and value that time I spent with them, I'll never truly die.. At least..not in their eyes," You tell her, ignoring the fact that Shinobu is starting to become harder and harder to see by the second.

Shinobu sobs and chokes die down after a while. By that time, your eyelids started feeling like paper weights; unbearably heavy. You tried to play it off by blinking slowly, but your wife caught on quickly. She could tell you were hitting your limit and you thought that'd it make her anger spike again or cause her another breakdown, but neither happened. Instead she surprised you by curling her lips upwards. Her eyes were red from crying and you couldn't see it well, but the corner of her brows twitched. Her cheeks was also stained pink, likely from embarrassment of having broke down in front of someone, even if that someone was her own wife.

To put it frankly, she was a mess with a smile painted over it. But it was genuine and from the heart and that was enough to satisfy you.

The afternoon glow of the sky shone down on you as you stuck your hand, which had a handful of rice in it, out to a dog. Sanemi watched, looking like a little kid experiencing their first crush, as the dog barely hesitated to come closer and begin liking at your hand.

The scene was like a painting come to life. You were all dressed up in an expensive kimono he bought you. Your hair was styled in a way to match your attire and to frame your face, which was powdered in elegant, nice-looking makeup. And, you had a smile on your face as you gave the dog a similar look a mother would give her child while rocking them to sleep in her arms.

That thought reminded him of how he could never bring himself to make you a mother. How he feared that he wouldn't be able to bear the sight of your child, who'd undoubtedly resemble you in some kind of way, after your passing. Or, how he feared he'd accidentally end up just like his monstrous, asshole of a father and you'd stare at him with the same fright in your eyes as his mother did to his father.

He's not cut out to be a dad. Never was. And it's a shame because Sanemi knows you'd make an excellent mother. Thinking about it puts a bad taste in his mouth and in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts, he huffs out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. He can't risk thinking of something so disheartening and make himself sad. You proposed taking a walk around to clear his head of such thoughts after all and he doesn't want your efforts to go to waste.

"Sanemi," He blinks. How long were you calling his name? He stares at you once again and this time, you're turned and staring over your shoulder at him, who's sat on the steps, your hand now running through the dog's fur. Your smile is still there, but your eyes are dimmed with concern. The sight makes him feel guilty as it dawns on him that he probably worried you.

"Are you alright?" You asked and he responds to you quickly, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Maybe it was because of how fast he answered you, but you didn't seem convinced. You kept staring at him with a woeful, skeptical look and it broke him, so he rephrases his previous statement, "I was just..thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" You asked, your hand leaving the dog's at last and getting up from your crouched position in front of the dog, "Want to talk about it?"

"No," He replied, but you walked up to him and sat beside him on the steps anyways and he sighs and says, "I promise it's nothing. Today is your day, so let's do something that focuses on you."

He sees your smile widen, and he finds himself unable to keep eye contact with a work of art such as yourself. He looks away from you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He then hears that addicting laugh of yours and he feels his heart thrumming in his chest. Gosh, you were going to be the death of him..

"You're such a sweetheart," No he isn't, was what he wanted to say but decided against it to spare both of you an unnecessary argument. It's a known fact that he's the farthest thing from sweet. That said, when he's in your presence, he can't help but be overly gentle with you. He can't help but touch and caress you as if you were made of priceless gemstones. He can't help but pamper you like you're some kind of princess. That's probably why your perception of him is so skewed compared to others.

You are the only person alive who has that perception of him. You are the only person alive who can set his skin ablaze with something as simple as a poke of your finger. You are the only person alive who'd devote your limited time on making him feel the way you have. You are the only person alive who still saw him a kind light while whispering endearments and kissing him and feeling him years ago when many people around him saw him as a monster.

..And someone so kind, so caring, so compassionate..will no longer be in this world soon. You, who always looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world will soon perish because you disregarded your own wellbeing during the war and gave your all to bring an end to that abomination named Muzan Kibutsuji.

"Y/n.." He calls, still not looking at you. You hum, waiting on him to continue. Certainly not expecting him to ask, "Would you be willing to waste another lifetime loving me?"

A silence grew between you two and Sanemi would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt not hearing a response from you. He expected it though.

"I don't have much to offer you in this life and I wouldn't be surprised if the same goes for the next. I also can't promise I'll act any better. ..Tch, there's a better chance that I'll be more of a prick in my next life—"

"I would," He grows silent, finally turning his head towards you so that he could look you in the eyes. So that he could scan your facial expression. So that he could find proof that you were lying in your statement just now. But, he doesn't find anything of the sorts and it makes him feel sick—repulsed—at how giddy he feels at the realization that you're dead serious.

"Although, I don't think it'd be a waste of a life," You continued as an afterthought, taking mind to the way he wraps his fingers around the hand that you are leaning on and being as delicate as always as he peels it away from the ground so that he could hold it in his hand.

"If you act even a little like you do now in your next life, I wouldn't mind spend all of eternity with you," He brings your hand up to his face, planting a kiss to the back of your hand before he presses the back of your hand to his forehead and tells you..

"..Thank you for being kind enough..to choose me again."

"You look radiating," He told you. It didn't make your frown turn upside down or even budge as you stared at yourself, sat in a wheelchair; a thick, flowery blanket draped over your legs to keep them warm—not that you could really feel the warmth. Sometime after your 23rd birthday, you stopped feeling the lower half of your body.

"I used to look radiating," You muttered dryly, your only functional eye moving to scrutinize every little scar and wrinkle that ruined your skin. Looking at them made your frown deepened as well as huff out a loud, long, breathy sigh; one that sounded just as tired as you looked in the mirror..

"I don't know why you still wanted me after the war. Look at me.."

"Okay!" Kyojuro said from behind you and just like he's told, his golden, fiery eyes give you a good, long look through the mirror. As the seconds turn into minutes, you find your face heating up. You were ashamed of yourself. Your once smooth skin was littered in painfully permanent cracks, bruises, and blemishes that were caused by mistakes against powerful demons. Your face had more wrinkles than a grandmother despite the fact that you were only in your mid-twenties. Your lips had scars so deep and dark that even the brightest-colored lipstick couldn't hide them.

To put it in simple terms, the sight of yourself made you want to barf.

"I've did what you wanted," He finally says, "Do you know what I see?"

"An ugly, disgusting hag?" You finish for him and you hear a gentle, warm laugh from behind you. It makes a wave of embarrassment ride through the ocean of your stomach. You were being laughed at by your husband. It was humiliating, but you didn't blame him. I mean, you were hideous in your eyes. You probably looked a thousand times worse to other people..

"I see a woman with beautiful eyes that shine like the sun whenever she's happy or proud or upset. A woman who's personality makes me laugh and feel loved and proud. A woman with lips softer than the clouds in the sky even though the words that come out of them usually aren't nearly as fluffy. A woman who's body I always fantasize holding and protecting no matter the attire that covers it. The woman who'd kick me on my butt during a spar and then fret for hours over me getting a tiny cut from chopping vegetables.."

"Y/n, I know that we don't see the same thing, but if I could give you my sight, I know that even you would grow flush from how absolutely breathtaking you are in my eyes."

"Stop," You snap, your head hung low, "Stop," You repeat, but your voice sounds more fragile; like glass cracking bit by bit.

"Stop what?" He crouches down and then slides over so that he's on his knees by your side. His smile is as bright as it was when you first met him all those years ago, "Stop praising my wife?"

"Yes because your wife looks like a freak of nature! A- A demon! A—!"

"—A woman who worked hard and gave her all and pushed past her limits so that me, my family, my friends, and the rest of the world could live in peace," He finishes and then continues, "A woman who sacrificed so much to make sure that no one has to suffer by the hands of a demon ever again.." As he spoke, admiration drips into his voice like sweet honey, "A woman I am honored to call my wife; you."

"Shut up!" You said as you shattered completely, tears filling your eyes without your permission, "Shut up.. Shut up.." You wept.

"I.. I'm not.." And in that moment, something else broke inside of you and you couldn't utter another word. Tears, snot—everything rolled violently down your face and in a pathetic attempt to hide that sight from the world, both of your hands come up to cover your face. And without missing a beat, Kyojuro, smiling from ear to ear, wraps his big, warm arms around you and encases your frail, upper half..

"I love you, Y/n. It truly was, and is, an honor to be your husband."

"What am I going to do, Y/n?" He found himself asking as he gazed up at you from where he laid in your lap. He had been, understandably, anxious and upset all day and to prevent him from wallowing in that sadness until your inevitable demise, you asked him to lay his head down in your lap and allow you to stroke his hair.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. My life was a pathetic mess before I met you.." He shamelessly admits, "I'm nothing without you.."

"I'm positive that you'll be okay," You reassure, or at least, you try to. The look he gives you after you say that makes it clear that your words didn't make him feel better at all.

"Zenitsu, you may find it hard to believe, but you're a strong person. Why else do you think I'm so calm right now?" You ask, and he doesn't say anything as he's unable to find the right words to refute you. It's a step in the right direction, you think.

"I think my husband is more than able to fill my place when I'm gone. I know whatever decision he'll make without me will be from the best intentions. He'll be able to keep our family afloat, protected, and feeling loved and that's all I wish for," You continued, hoping to really drive your words into his head and ease his spirit. Alas, you should've known that Zenitsu will always find a way to be pessimistic whenever it came to himself.

"You overestimate me. I could never replace you," He mumbles, "Compared to you, I'm- Ow!" He sucks in a sharp wince through his teeth and his hand comes up to cover the top of his head which was now in pain. You had landed a firm flick to the center top of his head and to say that it hurt like a bitch would be an understatement.

"You underestimate yourself," You retort. Your hands peeling his away so that you could gently comb your fingers through that area of his scalp as if to nonverbally apologize. He accepts the apology quickly and his hands go back to fiddling with each other atop his stomach.

"I just..don't get what you see in me.." He finally confesses, "I'm overjoyed that you were willing to marry me and even have my kids. It's just..I don't see why you'd do that.." And you sigh at him and he sees you shake your head.

"Hopefully you will eventually.." You say as you lean down. Zenitsu eyes fall close involuntarily and after a moment, he feels you brush aside his hair and press your lips to his forehead. Even when you part from him, he could still feel tingles..

As you straighten your position and gaze down at your husband once again, you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him looking up at you with his face sparkling in a strawberry blush and his pupils glowing with his love for you. There's also the silly look of his bangs being pushed away to reveal the big red kiss-shaped stain in the center that really pulls the sight together.

He looked like an idiot in love, which I guess isn't too far from the truth.

"My wish is that one day, you'll be able to look in the mirror and see what I've seen for almost an entire decade; a tough, talented, stunning man with a personality like no one I've ever seen and a heart of gold to boot."

"How are you feeling?" Kanae asked, sitting at your bedside. The question earns a grin from you.

"However one is supposed to feel when they're about to die," You replied and you notice your girlfriend's expression change to one of realization to a more abashed look.

"I'm sorry, that was a pointless question.." She mumbled and your shoulders shook a little from you trying to control your laughter.

"No, no. It's okay, love. You were just trying to make sure I was comfortable," You said before patting the bed, "Now, c'mon. I wanna lay with you one last time."

Her smile drops completely at that. One last time..right. This will be the last time you two will be able to do this..or do anything together. Her teeth grits behind her lips at the thought. She won't be able to spend anymore time with you. No more dates or little walks or tending to the garden together. When you're gone, that'll be the end of all of that..

It's hard to accept, but not accepting it would be immature and that's the last thing she is. And so, although reluctant, she gets up, crawls into bed, and lays by your side. You waste no time in pulling her closer until her chest hits yours and you're able to lean your head into her shoulder.

There's a silence for a while as you simply take the time to breathe in her scent. She always smelled so nice, like the flowers she grows in the garden. It's light, not too potent, but addictively sweet.

"Man, this sucks," You murmur, "Dying just before the big battle.. How unlucky is that?" She seriously couldn't believe you and she couldn't help but show it on her face for a moment. You were about to die and what you're upset about..is not being able to fight against Kibutsuji? It leaves a bad taste in her mouth knowing that in the end, you're thinking of someone like him instead of..

No. Perish the thought, Kanae. Thoughts like that are selfish and infantile. As a demon slayer, you of all people should understand that feeling of discontentment.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I'm actually glad that you'll have to opt out of this fight," She says and you hum as your interest is peaked, "And why is that? Because you don't want me to get hurt?" You ask and she nods against you.

"Of course," She says and you huff at how dumb your question was. You then mumble out, "Right.."

Silence envelopes the room once again like an awkward hug. Neither of you knew what to say. There were things you could say, but since you were both trying to avoid sobbing into each others' arms for the rest of the night, neither of you said them aloud. On the other hand, trying to force this half-assed casual conversation doesn't feel the best..

And so, you let out a shaky breath in an attempt to quell your nerves as you whisper to her, "I'm scared, Kanae.. I don't want to die.."

And her grip around you tightens as she whispers back, "I'm scared too. But, it's okay if we're both scared because that means we can comfort each other for the rest of the night,"

You can feel her hands trembling on your thigh and you crane your neck so that you can get a full glance at her smile which poorly covered her nervous expression in the darkness. Seeing it kind of felt like a breath of fresh air..

"I'd like that.." You said in the end, "I'd like that a lot.."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

492 notes · View notes

stylespctals · 2 months

Text

The nanny | Part 1 - Pining

Summary: where Y/N is the nanny for a little girl named Stevie Styles. Her job consists of traveling all around the world with the girls rockstar dad - Harry Styles. What happens when Y/N and Harry start having feelings for one another?

A/N: This is my first writing on tumblr sorry if i’m rusty! I’ve written fanfictions for other celebs but never harry, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.4k

warnings: sickening fluff, sexual acts, mention of death, mentioning childbirth, harry being such a loving boy, y/n being shy

Read part 2 here

——————————————————————————

“Stevie I’m sorry your daddy won’t be home till later.” you say, trying to comfort the crying four year old.

“But I want daddy.” She screams. Starting to throw a tantrum; you don’t know how to stop it. Stevie has never thrown one before.

You became the nanny for Stevie two years ago when Harry realized it wasn’t possible to travel the world alone with a two year old.

Stevie’s mother passed when giving birth, her and Harry weren’t together. The conception was a drunken one night stand where Jessie- Stevie’s mother- convinced Harry she was on birth control. She wasn’t. Harry was so angry after that, but he also knew he was at fault for not taking an extra precaution. After she passed he mourned her pretty hard. He knew the effect it would have on his baby girl.

He realized he was relying too much on friends to look after Stevie when he was busy that he ended being forced to bring her to events she wasn’t welcome at. He knew he needed to get a nanny but he wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone with a stranger. That’s when he met you.

You and him met at a bar. Jeff invited Harry out to drinks with him and few of his and Glenne’s friends. You and Glenne were super close.

You guys hit it off super well and Harry knew you were the person he wanted as his nanny. He found out you are a nanny and immediately asked you if you would be his. He offered you triple what you other options would’ve paid, which made you laugh and assure him you didn’t need that and you would be honored to nanny such a sweet girl.

And here you are now, best friends with an international pop star and the nanny of the best girl in the world; trying to calm down the sweet girl.

“Shhh Stevie it’s okay, daddy will back soon I promise.” you say soothingly, trying to stop the four year old from squirming out of your arms.

“No!” the little girl screams, getting up and running to the couch; she puts her head on it and starts hitting it.

“Stevie Anne that is not a way to act!” Harry says sternly. Walking into a scene he never had before.

“Daddy!” she cries as she runs up and hugs his legs. Crying the hardest she ever has.

Harry frowns, realizing something is wrong.

He picks her up and places her on his hip, she wraps her arms around his neck and sits there and cries.

“What’s wrong love bug.” he says moving her curly red hair away from her face.

She’s a spitting image of Harry, except for her bright ginger hair.

You sit there and watch as Harry talks to Stevie in a calm soft voice and wipes her tears away. Smiling loving how different he is with her.

“I’m going to go put her to bed.” he mouths to her, Stevie was falling asleep in the comfort of her father’s arms.

You nod, he takes off towards the steps. You start cleaning up.

You’re in the kitchen when harry returns downstairs. He sits down at the bar stool and sighs.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. Grabbing him a glass of wine and sitting down next to him.

“Thanks.” he says taking a sip of the wine. “She was just really upset that i’ve been gone, it’s been a while since she’s been without seeing me all day. I didn’t know it would put this much effect on her but now I realize it is.” he says, rubbing his forehead while downing his glass of wine.

“Ay take it easy.” grabbing the wine glass out of his hand you go and set it in the sink. “You hate drinking while on tour. If you’re going to you gotta take it slow, alright?”

“Yeah yeah I know sorry i’m just stressed I feel terrible for making her upset. And i know she probably took it out on you, I hate to put you through that. She’s usually such a great kid and never has any problems.” he groans, putting his head against the granite countertops.

“H, it’s alright. This is what i signed up for, to be a nanny for this precious little girl through all the bad moments. Okay?” you say, placing your hand on his, making tingles run up your spine at the contact.

He looks up at you with this soft look in his eyes that you can’t decipher. He squeezes your hand with a smile and mumbles a thank you.

You smile at him and he pulls you into a tight hug.

You feel him take a deep breath through his nose; nuzzling into your soft hair.

He plants two kisses on your temple and pulls away, looking you deeply into your eyes. “You’re the best you know that?” he says, not taking his eyes off yours.

You get a little flustered under his gaze and look away blushing.

“Yeah whatever.” you shrug, hiding your eyes from his. His hand grabs your chin and makes you look at him again

“I’m serious Y/N. I couldn’t ask for someone better to do this with. I thought I was going to be alone raising her and I was so scared. Then you came along and you’re the biggest help and everything I needed to help me and her through this.” He says moving his hand to your cheek.

This brings tears to your eyes; you pull him for a right hug again and cry into his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me into her life. I don’t know what i’d do without you and her.” you sniffle, pulling away to wipe and your eyes.

He smiles and wipes your tears.

Oh my god you’re melting.

“I think maybe we should both get some sleep we seem pretty emotional.” he chuckles as he stands up out of his seat. He holds his hand out for you and you take it.

“Come on i’ll run a bath for you. You deserve it.” he says dragging you to the en-suite bathroom.

You swing your feet giddily as you pull yourself up on the counter and watch him prepare the bath. Is it bad you can feel yourself getting wet beneath your panties? Something about a man pampering you really gets you going.

“Okay all set.” he walks over to you and lifts you up off the counter. Making you smile. “See you in the morning sweets, I got a free day tomorrow and I want to spend it with you and Stevie, so be up and ready by 10! Have a surprise for you two.” he kisses your cheek again which makes your heart race.

“Goodnight, H.” you blush. Again. He gives you a wink then leaves the room.

You get undressed and into the bath.

You shamefully rub yourself to an orgasm thinking of your boss.

——————————————————————————

Harry’s fucked. Being in love with your nanny?

These type of things only happens in books.

I guess not for Harry.

You were constantly on Harry’s mind. He woke up thinking about you and went to bed thinking about you.

He also thought about you in other ways. Which he was a little shameful about.

With his hand wrapped around his shaft stroking himself thinking about you underneath him whining and begging him to fuck you.

He can’t even be shameful when that’s all on his mind.

He knows it’s wrong but he’s been in love with you since the beginning. He just doesn’t know how to tell you.

He imagines all the way he’s could confess to you, but, what if you don’t feel the same? That’s a nagging fear in the back of Harry’s mind.

What if you’re just in it for the money? What if you are doing this because he’s Harry Styles? That sounds so narcissistic he thinks but he can’t help his mind go there after that being the case in multiple of his past relationships.

He try’s to rid these thoughts as he cleans himself up, then nestles into his covers.

“I’m going to confess tomorrow.” He says to himself, not even knowing if that’s the truth or not.

——————

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed, I will have part to you tomorrow!

I also will be making a post about request if you have any!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #fanfic #the nanny #romance #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fandom

258 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 4 months

Text

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑

welcome to the table of contents for my two-thousand followers special !

i am actually shocked that i reached this milestone, considering my writing managed to convince people to follow me even though i have not been active on this account. you all bolstered me to 2k through two hiatus' that i did not announce, and that i do sincerely apologize for. the next time i plan to disappear off the face of tumblr, i'll give you guys a heads up: no more ghosting :) but seriously, thank you guys for the never ending support, and i will make sure i return the gratitude by being more present on tumblr, and writing more often!

as previously requested and mentioned, this special event is the daniel ricciardo edition. i believe a majority of you wanted a part-two of the overstimulation with daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x black!reader from my f1 kinktober series, which will be included in this special. i also promised a few dr3 fics to some of you that requested--so all in all, all of the daniel ricciardo thirst that YOU ALL requested is listed below the cut. i hope this is enough of a peace offering, and i hope you all enjoy xxx

if you would like to be added to this special's taglist, send me an ask or leave a reply. all episode upload times are at 12 PM EST on their release date. posts tagged as # httpss :// 2k special. all works can be found in my table of contents (m.list).

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: it's his one-man show. you ask for danny ric, and he will always over-deliver. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: daniel ricciardo x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: assorted oneshots.

view playlist? ↴

Pilot: Over-Stimulation Kink w/ Daniel Ricciardo & Max Verstappen

You can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. You understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. And then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

Episode Two: Say, "Cheese!" | facial | 5/31/24

The day she gets her braces off will be the best day of her life. Maybe all the years she dealt with insults, underhanded compliments, and men who wouldn’t date her because of them, would be worth it when she sees her perfectly straight teeth. Of course, it sucks that she has insecurities stemming from her braces; her boyfriend, Daniel, says that they “add to her beauty.” If she believed him, she probably wouldn’t hide her mouth behind her hand when she grins or laughs. Don’t worry—Daniel has an idea of how to make that smile of hers…shine.

requested! insecure!reader. soft!dom daniel. oral sex (male receiving). serene's fave.

Episode Three: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss | fake orgasm | 6/5/24

When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress.

requested! servicedom!daniel. vaginal sex. hurt/comfort. attempt at humor.

Episode Four: Tomorrow 2 | body worship | 6/7/24

She’s the least favorite Formula One WAG. At first, she was optimistic, the fans would eventually start liking her—but that was a pretty naive thought. She’s constantly compared to Daniel’s ex-girlfriend—she’s not as pretty as her, she’s not as supportive as her, etc. Unfortunately, in a moment of low self-esteem—she breaks and thinks maybe the fans are right. Daniel comes home and sees you gathering every belonging of yours that’s migrated to his apartment like you’re breaking up with him. He tries to change your mind with his words, but that doesn’t quite reassure you completely; so he has no choice but to do it with his actions, too.

requested! insecure!reader. light angst. multiple orgasms. manhandling.

Episode Five: TSA | soft yandere | 6/13/24

She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes she never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of one) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of.

requested! possessive!reader. mild angst. happy ending. morally grey.

Finale: K.O. ! | over-stimulation | 6/25/24

Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine. As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.

requested! part-two of the pilot fic. multiple orgasms. polyamory. bondage.

current taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris @xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @vetteltea @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless

323 notes · View notes

arcadia-of-pluto · 1 month

Text

Twist of Fate; Chapter One

Pairings; Rafayel x reader, Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Sylus x reader (Love and Deepspace)

Word count; 4,495 (sorry it's so short, I'll try to post three chapters today)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rated; 18+ for swearing and some mature themes

Notes; To make things easier to read, I'm going to use emojis for who is texting.

Y/n 🩷

Rafayel 💜

Zayne 💙

Xavier 💛

Sylus ❤️

Hi everyone! This is my first time posting to tumblr so please be gentle with me! If you like this, then let me know! It would be greatly appreciated. My upload schedule will be every weekend (so either fri, sat, or sun!) Also, if the story seems similar, it's going to be verbatim with the story, just with my own embellishments to it. Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

Prev || Next

Masterlist

A bright light shines within the dark room. There you lay in bed, playing a game on your phone late at night before bed. The soft background music coming from your speaker as the game loads up. You press ‘enter game’ as images of three men make their way across your screen, each one holding a special place in your heart.

Who says you need a real man? Fictional men are where it's at. They can't cheat on you, can't leave you, can't lie to you. It's a lot better than having to stress over a real person and worry if they'll leave you the next day or not. You know from experience, having two boyfriends in the past and neither lasting longer than six months- both breaking off the relationship before an anniversary. Screw men– well, besides the three on your screen right now. They were fine. Oh, and the fourth one being added a month from now.

The game loads in and you get a greeting from one of the men on screen. They take turns showing up in the Destiny Café, each able to say hello every time you log in. It was always sweet to see what they'd say, how they'd react, or any new text messages you'd get from them. You could even change their phone nicknames! You had Xavier, the sweet tired and aloof silvery blonde haired man, saved as Princess since you thought it would be cute. He'd definitely be embarrassed if you called him that. Zayne, the seemingly cold childhood friend and doctor, was saved under Snow Angel; you honestly didn't know what to have his name as that but it would just be amusing to see his reaction to it. Then there's Rafayel, the purple haired sassy and charming painter, who was saved as Nemo- again, very original. But Nemo works nonetheless. As you smile and send your daily stickers to each man to see their reaction, you get a new notification at the top of your screen.

“A new message?” You murmur, noticing that it's contact is unknown. The message was coming from the game. “It must be some new event. Weird…I wonder why there wasn't an update for it?” You back out of your message with Rafayel and click on the new message from the unknown sender.

:’Will you enter the game?’

“That's it?” Your brows furrow and you sit up in your bed, your phone lying in your lap as you scratch your head. “Wait..” You click on the message to reply and your keyboard pops up. “That's…” Usually, to reply in game, you get a choice between a few predetermined answers but for this…You just get to answer how you want to?

’What do you mean?’ You text back before reaching over to put your glasses on. Maybe you should've gone to bed earlier, it kind of feels like you're hallucinating.

You hear the chime of another message rolling in, and you look back down at your phone.

:’Yes or no? Hurry and pick one.’

This time the keyboard doesn't pop up, you only get three options.

ロ Yes

ロ No

And…

ロ Why?

You don't even think twice before pressing why, and the answer comes back quicker than you expect.

:’Please take care of them for me.’

You let out a scoff before running a hand through your hair. This must be some sort of elaborate prank. There's no way this is a part of the game, and even if it were there'd be no explanation for it. Is this the dev's way of getting back at you for sending so many support requests? Before you can think much about it, suddenly you feel more sleepy than before. Your eyes tiredly blink as you try to grab your phone to at least plug it up and get off of the game before you fall asleep, but instead you're lulled to sleep by the soft, melodic tune of Love and Deepspace.

Then a light so bright that it burns your eyes even though they're closed appears. It's hard to even force your eyes open, but when you do, you notice it's a big, deep crimson eye. Similar to the one you'd see in game. Your blood runs cold as you try to look around this unfamiliar area, but all you see is darkness. A dream? Yeah..this must be a dream. Although you've never been able to actively move in a dream before, there's a first for everything!

Right when you finally calm yourself down, you hear it. A loud explosion, the feeling of embers licking at your skin. Your ears are ringing, and you feel a sharp pain on the right side of your face. The darkness fades, and you're left with the blinding light of the sun against your back and your body lying on a pavement. Just lifting your head up to look at your surroundings feels like an extreme workout, everything about your body feels heavy. Sluggish. Though your left eye widens as you realize you're laying in front of a burning building. Something shining in the sunlight catches your eye, and once you grab the object, you find it harder to breathe. It was a dog tag with a charm on it. An apple charm with a star design in the center, and in the center of that was a ruby gemstone. The words ‘When U come back’ were written in cursive on the dog tag.

“No way..” you manage to croak out, the necklace clutched in your hand as you try to push yourself up, but the pounding in your head and the pain coming from your eye are no match, and you end up laying face down on the pavement in front of the burning home until you pass out from the pain.

Being passed out had its perks. You finally had a chance to think and put together a few puzzle pieces before you woke up. So if memory serves, what just happened was your- no, the main character's childhood home just blew up right after her best friend and basically brother Caleb stepped inside and her grandma, who adopted them both, was inside as well. They both died, and supposedly a mafia-like group called Onychinus was behind it because they were tying up loose ends as Grandma was a former researcher and scientist, experimenting on children and modifying them with aether cores. But the main character wasn't badly injured after the explosion, which never made sense honestly. You're that close to a building exploding, and you only get off with trauma and minor scrapes? That doesn't seem right…and honestly, the pain made it feel all the more real. If you were in a dream, that pain most likely would've woken you up.

So coming to terms that you're inside of the game was a bit easier that way. Though the bigger problem lies with your evol. You wouldn't even know the first step to using it, let alone resonating with another person. And firearm training. You've never shot a gun before, but you did take self defense and fighting lessons a few years back, but you can't exactly punch a wanderer. They're durable monsters that can shoot ice or anything at you and, some even have blades for arms…

“Great, it seems like she's waking up now.” You hear the deep, yet cold voice of a man. Then, you hear the higher pitched voice of a woman, “Finally! It's been three days, I just hope she doesn't insist on going back to work..” “She won't, doctor's orders.” The male voice says before you hear a door close.

Your eye slowly opens before you have to squint to adjust it to the bright white lights. A hospital? You try to sit up and the woman next to you rushes to help you. You have to turn your head to look at her since she's on your right side. Your right eye was also bandaged since all you can see is darkness out of it. The first thing you notice is her short bob cut. “Tara?” You say, your voice sounding a bit raspy and you tilt your head to the side. “Thank goodness, Y/n! We thought you'd never wake up.” She seems excited, bubbly and sweet…just like her character in game.

“That's..” Before you can finish your sentence, you start coughing. “Here, let me get you some water!” She hands you a plastic cup and you take a sip before continuing, “I…can't remember much.” You squeeze your hand in a fist, the sound of metal clinking together has you looking down at your hand. “You never let go of that. You've been holding it since..” Tara trails off and you're caught off guard by a sudden surge of emotions. You take a shaky breath as to not start crying, since that would definitely hurt your right eye before you look up at the ceiling. “I don't recall how to use my evol, how to shoot a gun…Can I still even call myself a hunter?”

“Y/n…” Tara sighs before taking your free hand, “Things can always be retaught, we're all just glad you survived. You should be glad to still have both eyes being that close to the explosion!” She smiled at you before handing you your phone. “I can't stay here long, but your phone has been blowing up for the past three days so make sure you check it out.” She pats your hand and stands up. “I'll visit later with a coffee or something for you.”

“The patient is advised to not have anything caffeinated until after being discharged.” A voice comes from the door before he steps inside.

Black hair, glasses, hazel green eyes, tall…

“Doctor Zayne,” I greet him with a small smile, suddenly more nervous and I turn to look at Tara. “I'll see you tomorrow, Tara?”

“Sure! That is, if I don't get a call about a wanderer..Metaflux readings have been crazy as of late, so we've all been pretty busy- but that's not to push you into coming in or anything! Your health matters more to us at UNICORNS so only come back when you're ready.” She says before leaving the room.

“How are you feeling?” Zayne asks as he comes closer, taking a seat where Tara once was. His eyes scan your whole body to make sure you're okay before landing on your face. He leans forward to take the bandage off of your right eye and you wince at how bright the light is for your non-adjusted eye. “It'll probably scar..” he murmurs, presumably to himself.

“I'm..” You trail off, sighing before you decide it's best to tell the doctor the truth. “I'm fine, but I can't remember-”

“Can't remember what?” He cuts you off, almost seeming more worried about just what you can't remember, which makes you laugh a bit. “Calm down, I was getting to that. I can't remember how to use my evol, use my gun, or anything to do with wanderers.” “Hmm..are you sure it won't come back with time?” Zayne seems to have calmed back down as he's now writing everything down on a clipboard. “I'm sure of that.” You clear your throat, looking back down at the necklace in your hand before running your thumb across it.

“I don't mind relearning everything but I won't be as good as I was before, that's for sure.” You lean your head back and Zayne quickly corrects you, gently tilting your chin back down. “If your wound reopens, we'll have to use stitches so be careful.”

“You'll get better at it in no time. Don't forget that I'll help you out.” Zayne says before standing up. You take a glance at the clipboard and it seems like he added ‘post traumatic stress disorder?’ as a note. You guess he assumes your forgetfulness might be caused by that, but you knew otherwise. “I'll leave you so you can check up on your phone.”

With that, the doctor leaves the room and you can finally let out a sigh of relief. It seems he didn't notice anything was off with you. He was honestly the hardest hurdle since he's known the main character for a long time, but you've noticed you tend to act like her to begin with so maybe it wouldn't be as hard as you thought.

You finally decide to put the necklace down on the table next to you, your hand aching from having held it so tightly and grab your phone. There was no code on it so you easy got into it, might as well put a code on it now..and now you go to check your messages. 45 missed calls from Nemo…Nemo? Your brows furrow and you flinch because, of course, that hurts the wound on your face so you quickly straighten your face out. The nicknames are the same as they were in your game. 11 missed calls from Princess, 55 missed messages from Nemo, and 5 missed messages from Princess. Zayne didn't leave any since he works at the hospital… though on the day of the incident, he did leave two missed calls and a reminder of a doctor's appointment.

You decide to check up with Rafayel first since he's a certified drama queen. You don't scroll too far up but the most recent text messages are just him being pouty that his ‘miss bodyguard’ is ignoring him.

🩷 :’Been in the hospital for three days, sorry!’

You decide that's sufficient of an answer before nearly jumping out of your skin as he immediately calls. You laugh before answering the call, being bombarded with questions the moment you press the green button.

“Which hospital, Miss bodyguard? What happened? Are you okay?”

“One question at a time.” You laugh before you start coughing and have to take another sip of water from the plastic cup. Your throat was a bit achy from not being used for three days.

“Which hospital?” Rafayel sticks with his first question, his voice void of his usual playful banter. “Uhm..” you look around for a moment, not exactly remembering the name of the hospital in game before spotting its name on the whiteboard in front of you. “Akso Hospital, room 205.”

“Got it.” Then silence. “Uh…Rafayel?” You say, taking the phone away from your face to notice he had already hung up. You shrug it off before going to your messages with Xavier. Most of the messages were just asking if you wanted to go hunting with him, sending locations, and the most recent one was from a few hours ago with him asking if you were okay.

🩷 :’At the hospital right now, been out for three days! Sorry about that. I might need some help soon though.’

Xavier doesn't immediately call like Rafayel did, instead just exchanges a few texts with you.

💛 :’what happened? are U alright? is it’

🩷 :’Is it what? I'm fine, a bit sore though. I got caught up in an explosion three days ago and have been out since then.’

💛 :’..nevermind that how can U be okay if u were passed out for 3 days? what's the extent of your injuries?’

🩷 :’Just a few bruises, scrapes, a sprained ankle, and…’

💛 :’and what?’

🩷 :’I might have a cool new scar over my eye!’

💛 :’thats not funny..what hospital, i'm coming now.’

You pause your messages, knowing he definitely can't come now if Rafayel is. None of the love interests have ever interacted in the game before, so you're not sure of the consequences just yet.

🩷 :’I'm probably about to sleep again! You can visit tomorrow, the doc gave me some pain medicine that's making me a bit tired and I wanted to talk to you.’

💛 :’alright as long as ur okay. i can wait as long as you need.’

You pout, trying your best not to gush over how sweet Xavier is, and drop your phone as your room door suddenly opens to reveal an exhausted looking, purple haired man. His shirt was haphazardly buttoned, his hair tousled as if he just got out of bed, and panic written all over his face.

“You didn't think to describe the details of your injuries to me?” Are the first words out of his mouth before he shuts the door behind him, walking deeper in the room to grab your plastic cup to drink some water. “You've been out for three days, you shouldn't even be sitting up right now!” He sits down on the chair next to the bed and you reach toward him to try and fix his shirt buttons. The tips of his ears turn red and he pushes backward on the rolling chair. “What're you doing- you're a patient.”

“Your shirt..” You drop your hands into your lap with a small smile.

“Oh-” Rafayel clears his throat, turning the chair to fix his shirt before he rolls the chair back up next to you. With his hand gently cupping the right side of your face, he murmurs, “How did this happen?”

You assume he's probably in shock since you were never scarred like this in any of the past lives you shared with him.

“An explosion from my..” You trail off, lips pressing together in a thin line as you find it hard to say what happened, even though you know they're not your actual family. “..my childhood home. Two casualties.” You finally finish your sentence, not meeting Rafayel's bluish pink eyes as he still cups your cheek.

The silence is almost deafening before Rafayel sighs and drops his hand. “I'm sorry for your loss.” He finally says. “Do you need a hug?”

You quickly shake your head. “If I hug you, I'll cry and I really don't need to..irritate my…” You can't seem to get your words out as your eyes water and no matter how hard you try to stop it, your cheek stings as salty tears run down your still healing wound. Rafayel moves to sit on the side of the bed, guiding your forehead to rest against his shoulder as his arms wrap around you. “We can always get your doctor to fix it, huh? It won't do you any good if you keep your feelings all bottled up now, will it?”

You can't seem to stop crying, even as your breath stutters in your chest and you find it harder to breathe. Sure, you cried when they died while playing but for it to affect you like this? Maybe it's because someone offered to be a shoulder you could lean on.

“Focus on my breathing. Don't hyperventilate on me now, miss bodyguard.” Rafayel murmurs, hand still patting your back as your tears eventually fade and you fall asleep.

Rafayel pulls you back from his shoulder, moving you so you're laid flat on the bed before he grabs a soft tissue to wipe your face, wiping the trail of blood coming from your wound since the salt from your tears irritated it. He then leans forward to kiss your forehead. “I'll see you soon.”

The next time you wake up, your eyes are puffy and your nose is stopped up.

“I see you cried yourself to sleep.” Zayne comments, tilting your head by your chin so he can examine your wound. “You irritated it.” He sighs. “If you don't cry anymore, it'll probably be healed up in two weeks..then you can cry all you want.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I had to cry.” You say with a pout, knowing it's not his fault. “When can I be discharged?”

“After today, your ankle should be better to walk on so tomorrow? But if you want to start work again, I'd say another few weeks.” Zayne finishes writing something down before standing up. “I also did a routine checkup on your heart in case that was the reason you can't use your evol and I don't think that's the case. I believe your evol revolves around your emotions so if you're not confident in it, it won't work.”

“Thank you, Zayne.” You say before taking a sip of the iced coffee that Tara left for you thirty minutes ago. Then you finally shoot Xavier a text to say he's free to come to the hospital whenever he wants, that you'll be discharged tomorrow.

Not even a minute after you sent your message, there was a knock on your door. You look toward the noise before smiling behind your hand. “Come in.”

A silvery blond head pops in from the now opened door before he comes in and shuts the door behind him. “How are you feeling today?” He asks, his soft tired voice sounding a bit more emotional than usual. “Mmh, pretty good. I'd probably feel better if you came a bit closer.” You say, leaning over to pat the chair next to your bed. He quickly comes to sit down, almost as if waiting for the invitation.

“Your eyes are swollen. Did you have a rough sleep last night?”

“No, I..” it's probably best to keep telling the truth for now. “I just cried myself to sleep.” You shrug, trying to play it off as nothing but Xavier isn't falling for it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“If I cry myself to sleep again, will you hold me?” You ask, raising your left brow before laughing to yourself. “Just thinking about what happened, not being able to save anyone, getting hurt like this…” You feel a hand on top of your own and turn to look at Xavier. “It's not your fault.” He finally says after a moment of silence. A small smile tugging at his lips before he changes the subject, “What is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh right!” You sit up before turning your body to face him. “I need you to teach me how to use my gun…and how to fight….aannnd how to use my evol.” You name off each one and tap on your fingers to count them off.

“You..forgot all of that?” His head tilts to the side before he nods his head. “Alright, I can do that. Is there anything else you need?”

“Uh…can you pick me up tomorrow? I don't know where our apartments are…or how to drive my bike either.” You rub the back of your neck and smile sheepishly.

“What else did you forget?” He lets out a small laugh.

“All of Linkon?” You say before adding, “I mean, I remember names but I don't remember where anything is..like Azure Square, UNICORNS HQ, Twinkle Toys, Meow's Café..”

“Don't worry, I'll help with anything I can.” Xavier smiles, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” You smile before looking down at your phone as it buzzes. Rafayel. He's- on his way?

“Actually, could you get me a friend for tomorrow?” You ask, a smile tugging at your lips. “A..friend?” His head tilts to the side until you say, “Can you get me a fox plushie and bring it to me when I'm discharged tomorrow?”

“I-” Xavier laughs before nodding, “Of course I will.” He stands up, looking toward the door. “I'll leave now though, since you seem a bit restless, but I'll make sure you get all the plushies you want.”

Not even five minutes after Xavier leaves, Rafayel is in the room. Almost as if he felt a disturbance in the force that someone was with his lady right now. “Was someone just here?” He asks, trying to act nonchalant as he sits down in the chair.

“No?” You phrase it as a question before you nod your head. “Yeah, the doctor just left. He was upset that I irritated my wound but, at least, I'll be discharged tomorrow! I can't go back to work for another two weeks though.”

“So does that mean my bodyguard is still out of commission?” Rafayel pouts, a hand on his hip. “Well, that's a shame. I had an art expo to go to in a few days and I was wondering if you'd join me.” “Ah…about that,” you clear your throat before telling him all about the troubles with your evol and even not recalling how to use a gun. “Why don't you try resonating now?” He asks, placing his hand on top of yours. “But what do I even do?” You murmur, closing your eyes.

“Do you feel all of that energy coursing through your chest? Try to direct that through your body to your fingers.” Rafayel whispers. “Think of it like paint. If you pour paint on a flat canvas, it spreads all out like crazy. You have to take a paintbrush and direct the paint to where you want it to go. So your evol is the paint and you are the paintbrush.”

That…helps but doesn't help at the same time.

You take a deep breath, trying to silence your mind to be able to focus but it's difficult to have dead silent thoughts. Instead you try to imagine the energy moving from your chest all the way to your hands, which were clasped between Rafayel's much bigger ones. Then, you finally felt it. You were resonati-

You flinch as you’re bombarded with a few blurry memories of your past life with Rafayel; Well, if you didn't know, you would've just been confused but since you played the game, you knew they were of your past lives with him. Though they were blurry, so you didn't catch anything besides a soft ‘my bride’ at the end.

My eyes blink open and you take one hand away from Rafayel to rub your temples. “I think it worked but..” you look at Rafayel, who was uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he saw the same images too?

“Hey, did you see it too?” You ask, which finally gets his attention. “Huh, see what?” He tries to brush it off but you don't let him. “It was kind of blurry but I remember seeing you…in a purple outfit? Oh and you said something at the end.” You tap your bottom lip with your index finger, pretending to try and recall what you saw when, in reality, you only saw a blurry Rafayel. You never saw specific details like that. “You said my bri-”

Rafayel covers your mouth with a hand. “That's enough of that.” His ears were red and he wasn't looking you in the eyes. Then he clears his throat. “Anyway, I'll contact you soon about the expo since you seem to resonate just fine and then maybe I can show you around Linkon City to try and jog your memory.”

He leaves as quickly as he showed up, clearly embarrassed by what you were going to say.

“Cute..” you say to yourself, laughing into your hand before wincing and touching the right side of your face.

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

That's it for the first chapter! Since I wrote this on goggle docs, I wasn't sure just how short the chapters were but they'll get longer as we go on! I have a few chapters piled up so even if I don't write for a few weeks, I'll still be able to post. I'd love any feedback or even any explanations of the features on here to make the reading experience a bit better. I've never posted to Tumblr before so I've been just copying what I see from the tags and word count so I think I've done pretty well for my first time. I would love to learn how to do a masterlist though and also a next button, I guess I just have to link the next chapter on it? I'll have to test it out so please bear with me and I hope you enjoyed- and stick around for the chapters to come! 🩷

160 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 10 months

Text

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

485 notes · View notes

purple-plum-petals · 3 months

Text

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail) Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending. Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~2500 words Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

303 notes · View notes

ot3 · 6 days

Note

hey, i only just recently finished bridge to turnabout (the final case of the aa trilogy) and wanted to go back and see your thoughts on godot since personally i have very mixed feelings on him altogether. you can just reply with a link to a post where youve already explained how you feel in more detail (i remember seeing a post where you have but tumblr search function is ass so i cant find the one i was thinking about) or use this as an opportunity to bitch about him if youd like. but i generally think that you have a knack for putting opinions i already have into words perfectly and wanted to revisit ones on him specifically with a new set of eyes now that i finally understand the context behind everything. peace and love ✌🏽

ohhhhh man godot. a lot to unpack there. I feel like for the most part whatever thoughts i've posted about godot have been kind of piecemeal so ill try and put it into something more coherent and comprehensive here. well first of all congrats on finishing the trilogy i hope you enjoyed it!!! bridge to the turnabout is SUCH an excellent case on almost every level but. the writing centered around godot really spoils it and stops it from living up to it's full potential....

i was warned i wasnt going to like godot going in so i was really surprised that up until bttt, i actually did end up liking him! i thought he was hysterical! and i still do. but i really can't Like him because of what the writing centered around him does to the integrity of aa3's arc. I don't like what it does to mia's place in the narrative and I think it undercuts the emotional realism that makes ace attorney's slapstick ass nonsense murders manage to land right. i guess ill address each one of those points on their own?

I don't like what godot's writing does to mia's place in the narrative!

Mia's death is something that's completely within her own agency; it is her own phone call with her own sister, talking about evidence for the case she herself has spent years building, that gets her killed. None of this has anything to do with phoenix. She is no strings attached presented as his mentor figure and I think this dynamic is what prevents Mia's death from feeling like fridging despite it technically being something that has to happen to allow phoenix to take center stage in the upcoming events of the game.

then godot comes in and the narrative he imposes on her death feels like it retroactively turns it into Fridging! I mean 'is this character death the Fridging Trope or the Death of the Mentor Trope' is kind of milquetoast tvropes brained level media critique here but im really using these concepts as a shorthand for the level of agency a female character is allowed to have in her own death, and the degree to which that death is used as a tool for men's emotional development. but anyway the point being that the fact that godot views mia death as phoenix's responsibility is an inherently misogynistic bit of character writing. their power dynamic is such that mia was the one responsible for phoenix's wellbeing if anything, as his boss, his senior, and his mentor; the only reason godot presumes phoenix to be responsible for mia's death is because he a man who was in proximity to her! which fucking suuuucks.

Something I don't see talked about a lot is that godot also has beef with phoenix for being dahlia's stooge, which i think is a MUCH more interesting angle for his character. but that's presented as a separate thing from his feelings about mia's death

Godot: …… I never liked you. Six years ago… …you helped the woman who put me to sleep by hiding her bottle of poison. And then… While I was sleeping… …you let Mia die. But you didn't care. You just kept living your pathetic, happy-go-lucky life. You even had the nerve to follow in her footsteps as a lawyer. I could never forgive you. That's what I thought.

now to be clear i don't think the narrative frames his blaming phoenix as something we're supposed to agree with. Godot has his whole confession at the end where he admits he views himself as responsible for failing to protect her. but it does basically mean that her death stops being something that was About herself and the choices she made and her relationship to her family, and instead becomes About the effect it had on the men in her life. which i really don't like!

NUMBER TWO. I think godot's writing lessens my ability to get emotionally involved in this case

Even within ace attorney's fucking moon logic bridge to the turnabout pushes my suspension of disbelief past its breaking point. I don't care about the pendulum horseshit. I don't care about the ghost possession. I'll accept all of that. What I can't accept is: why does no one EXCEPT godot himself seem to care that this entire murder could have been avoided if maya at any point been warned about it? Misty and Iris just as guilty of this as godot is, but the biggest difference between them and godot is that 1. misty has been a deadbeat for ages and is now just Dead. Her primary established character trait is not talking to her fucking kids. 2. Iris has been working as dahlias accomplice for her entire life and so the idea that she would willingly conceal this has much more legitimacy to me.

We are supposed to accept and sympathize with the idea that protecting maya Actually Was Something He Did. I say were are expected to accept and sympathize with that because phoenix and maya sure do! I guess you could interpret this as them trying to give some comfort to a man that is clearly at the end of his rope and about to be sent to prison.

Phoenix: Y-You're wrong! You put your life on the line to save Maya! Godot: Was it really for Maya's sake...? Even I'm not really sure. [cut some lines for brevity] Godot: You were the one who made me realize my folly. You never ran away from Mia's death. Instead, you picked up where she left off, as a true defender of the people. In that one moment... I understood everything! Phoenix: Mr. Godot... Godot: I think you already know this, but if you don't... My name is... Diego Armando. Maya: M-Mr. Armando! I believe in you! I know you were trying to save me!

then, later on:

Phoenix: (So I guess it's all over... The way everything ended... Was justice really served...? The man who risked his life to save Maya is being sent to prison by my own hand...) Mia: Of course justice was served. Phoenix: M-Mia! Mia: ...I'm proud of you, Phoenix. Your defense was... truly brilliant. Phoenix: B-But I couldn't save Mr. Armando! The man who cared so deeply for you... Mia: You're wrong, Phoenix. You did save Diego. You saved him in the only way possible.

I guess technically godot did risk his life to save maya. and I do like the conclusion that basically being laid bare and brought to accountability like that is what godot needed to 'save' him. but i'm just not sure why the fact that maya was only in danger in the first place due to godot's choices doesn't factor into how phoenix feels about him 'saving' her. I just don't buy it!!!

It lacks the emotional weight that other instances of Avoidable Tragedy in the series have had. Ace attorney is at its best when the relatively grounded emotions are contrasted by the zany impossible crime antics. But i think BTTT is an instance where the emotional realism isnt taken far enough to distract me from the convoluted nature of the actual events that have just taken place. Rather than being so in touch with the characters during this case that i can tap into the Tragedy aspect of 'this didnt need to happen like it did' i just find myself frustrated by the fact that it didn't need to happen like it did. It kind of chafes the whole case for me and at the end I didn't feel any sort of cathartic victory regarding the events that had just transpired. but that was clearly the feeling they were going for

i did enjoy godots for the most part, but i think you'd need to make some serious overhauls to the storyline to have this specific case reach its full potential. it's a good case! but as the end to the entire trilogy i just can't help but resent the fact that it has the clumsiest writing out of any of the individual games' finales. and that everything i disliked about it is attributed to the actions godot took and the reactions other characters had to that.

#ace attorney #ask #authenticyuri

115 notes · View notes

missrosegold · 5 months

Text

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

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya x you #post war!au #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #tw: mental health #see a03 for more detailed tags

381 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 20 days

Text

Worth It | Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route

↝ The day of the MFA party had finally arrived and despite all of setbacks you and your members faced, it all led up to this day.

⋆ PAIRING: gamer!kaminari x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: fluff :) ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: here's the written part for kaminari’s route! don't pay any mind to how dog shit the banner looks, tumblr hates me. hope you enjoy!! :) the kaminari cap is from @eraserhead-transparents

Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route

The stairs leading to the venue felt longer and more prolonged than you expected as you nervously climbed each step carefully. The day had finally come after much anticipation despite all of the traumatic events that had occurred to you and your friends.

The MFA party was finally here and you were filled with both anxiety and utter excitement. You were finally going to meet your fellow MFA members whom you had been conversing with for over a week. To say you were excited was an understatement to say the least, especially to see a specific blonde gamer.

The anxiety you were facing slowly subsided as you began greeting the guests at the main doors, checking off people from your clipboard as they arrived. The security Bakugou hired had arrived and were stationed at every door and any possible entrance into the venue as he had instructed. Two burly men stood on either side of the doors, making you feel safe but also slightly scared at how intimidating their presences were.

The first guest, a romance novel organization recommended by Mina, arrived, greeting you with a bright smile as they expressed how elated they were that the MFA parties were back. You smiled and thanked them for coming, continuing to do so as eventually a line formed as people waited to be checked in.

About half of the guests had arrived before you heard a shrill, high-pitched squeal, causing you to snap your head up to the source of the sound. A woman sprinted up the stairs, throwing her arms around you, nearly making the two of you topple to the floor. The two security guards to either side of you, knelt to your side, concerned that a random woman had essentially thrown herself at you but they eased up once they recognized the woman.

“Y/N?! I can’t believe it’s you!” The woman squealed, squeezing your shoulders in excitement.

Thankfully since there was only one other woman in the organization, it was very easy to tell that this was Mina. You smiled. “You know you could’ve told me who you were before you jumped me, Mina.”

Mina laughed. “What can I say, I was too excited to see you.”

“Mina, I told you not to go too crazy,” a man scolded from behind Mina as he slowly climbed the stairs, clearly limping.

From his injury, you recognized him easily. “Hey, Kirishima.”

“Whoa you knew it was me?” Kirishima asked, slightly bewildered. “Was it the hair?”

You pointed to his leg and he laughed. “I guess that makes more sense.”

Your eyes darted to the long line behind your two friends, snapping you back to reality and your hosting duties. “Sorry guys, I’d love to chat but we still have all of these guests to check in.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can do it for you,” Kirishima reassured, taking the clipboard from you and immediately getting to work, smiling brightly at the next guest.

Mina looped her arm into yours, keeping an eye on Kirishima since his reputation made him popular and there was still a threat out there potentially still coming for all of you. “So, are you excited?”

You nodded. “I was definitely nervous before but I feel better after being here.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re nervous to see your boyfriend.” Mina stretched out the last word, poking your shoulder teasingly, prompting you to roll your eyes. “Speaking of Kaminari, what was it like seeing him in person?”

You shrugged slightly. “I think I was more worried about whether or not he was okay more than anything.”

You were purposefully leaving out a major event that had occurred when you visited Kaminari since you knew how Mina would react if she found out. However, she was not going to let you off the hook that easily, suspecting that you were hiding something.

Mina narrowed her eyes at you. “So something did happen, didn’t it?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N, this is our first time meeting in person and I can already tell you’re lying.” Mina grinned. “Oh my god, did you guys hug or did he cry when he saw you? Wait!” She paused to gasp loudly.

“Mina, please calm down,” you muttered, smiling apologetically at the guests as they entered the building, taking notice of your energetic and overly excited friend.

“Don’t tell me! You kissed, didn’t you?!” Mina exclaimed.

Your left eye twitched, confirming her guess and she squealed even more. “Oh my god, you did! I’m so proud of you!”

She tackled you into a hug once more and before you could calm her down as your face was heating up from embarrassment, an angry voice broke you away from your thoughts.

“Who the fuck is screaming like a little girl?!” A man bellowed as he climbed up the stairs. If it weren’t for his fashionable suit and matching vest, his scowl on his face definitely confirmed your assumption. This was definitely Bakugou.

“Dude, you’re not helping much either by screaming, too,” another man said, shaking his head at Bakugou. His black hair was combed back and he wore a white, plain suit. His eyes met yours and he smiled. “Y/N!”

The two men climbed the stairs until they reached the top. Bakugou looked you up and down shamelessly. “I guess you clean up nice even if you’ve got shit taste in clothes, new girl.”

“What the hell is your problem? I’m sorry about him. By the way, this is Sero and Bakugou,” Mina gestured to the two.

“It wasn’t hard to guess which one Bakugou was,” you mumbled, causing Sero and Mina to laugh and Bakugou to simply glare at you.

Bakugou moved past you and into the venue. “Let’s see if this isn’t a shitshow.”

Sero sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry we had to meet again like this, Y/N. I’ll make sure he doesn’t harass the guests and the staff.” Sero went inside, following Bakugou.

“I guess we should head in there, too.” Mina moved to make her way inside as well, stopping once she realized you weren’t following. “You’re not coming?”

You turned to face the stairs, taking a look at the guests and seeing the number of people dwindle down. Glancing over at the clipboard in Kirishima’s hands, it looked as though most of the guests were here. Well… except for one.

“He’ll make it, don’t worry,” Mina said reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and smiling softly. “You know he wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

You reciprocated the smile, nodding your head as you headed inside with Mina.

The guests filled the once empty venue with their presences, numerous voices conversing and filling the once quiet air. The guests looked satisfied and happy, holding champagne flutes and plates of hors d’oeuvres. You smiled and briefly greeted them as you passed them, Mina doing the same. From afar you could hear Bakugou scolding one of the kitchen staff followed by Sero scolding Bakugou and apologizing for his friend’s brash behavior.

“Y/N!” Kirishima called out to you. He handed the clipboard to you as he gestured to his phone. “There’s three more guests we have to sign in. Could you check them in for me? I got a call from my agency and I’ve gotta answer it.”

“Of course.” Kirishima thanked you as he made his way to one of the back rooms to answer his call.

You made it back to the entrance, apologizing briefly for keeping the remaining guests waiting, and quickly signing them in. You sighed as you crossed the last guest name off the list, turning to thank the security guards who were keeping watch and keeping you safe.

One of the guards’ attention flicked over to someone behind you. “There’s one more guest you have to check in, ma’am.”

“Another guest?” You looked down at your clipboard and flipped through your guest list. “But that was our last guest…”

“Aw, come on, you already forgot about me, beautiful?” A familiar voice teased from behind.

You whipped your head around to the sound of the voice you wanted to hear the most, your heart nearly skipping a beat as you laid your eyes on Kaminari. He had adorned himself in a black suit, his blonde hair combed back with his black streak still in view and he somehow looked even more handsome than you could’ve imagined as he stood at the bottom of the stairs.

The guards recognized him as the last MFA member as they greeted him. “You guys can head inside. We’d like some alone time if that’s alright.” The security acknowledged Kaminari’s request, closing the main doors and deciding to guard them from the inside.

The sound of the doors shutting snapped you out of your initial shock and you rushed down the stairs and threw your arms around his neck. Luckily he caught you, preventing the two of you from falling. He laughed. “Did you miss me that much? We saw each other yesterday.”

You pulled away from him, moving your hands up to cup his face in your hands as you scanned him for any sign of pain or further injury. “Are you okay? Did the doctor say anything else? Is your arm infected? Did–”

“Okay, let’s slow down now,” Kaminari said with a laugh, moving his hand to hold one of yours in his. “I’m okay. The doctor said everything looks good which was why I was discharged today. You know I would never miss this.”

You smiled shyly, nodding your head as you knew he wouldn’t. “I know. I was just… worried.”

“You’re really cute, you know that?” Kaminari whispered, moving his hand to caress your cheek.

You felt your face heat up furiously from his words and he chuckled, knowing he successfully made you flustered. “Shut up, Denki.”

“I like the way you say my name,” Kaminari uttered softly, the pad of his thumb grazing down to your chin, hovering over your bottom lip.

“Denki?” You repeated, feigning innocence as your eyes met his and moved down to his lips.

Kaminari didn’t say another word as he wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing your body even closer to his and ducked his head down to close his lips over yours. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, maneuvering your arms to wrap around his neck, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

That moment was everything for you. Despite how terrifying things had been the past week, your worries dissipated in an instant as your lips moved in unison against his. That is until the sweet moment was cut short.

“Hey! Are you two fucking idiots gonna keep sucking face or are you gonna talk to our guests?!” Bakugou yelled down from the top of the stairs.

You and Kaminari pulled away from one another, looking up to the top to see Bakugou, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero all grinning down at the two of you.

You laughed, surprised that even Bakugou had a small smile on his face. “Get up here, you two!” Kirishima called out as Mina was clutching Sero’s side and squealing furiously.

Kaminari sighed. “Those idiots always get in the way.” He turned to you, extending his hand out to you. “You coming, gorgeous?”

You smiled, accepting his hand as your fingers laced into his and the two of you made your way back up.

This past week was a difficult one. Your life and the lives of your friends were continuously tested and you couldn’t help but feel as if you had made a mistake in joining this random organization that you happened to stumble upon, or rather were led to. But the sight of your friends looking down at you with genuine joy and the presence of the man you knew you wanted to be with for a long time made it all worth it.

Yeah… it was all worth it.

A/N: AAAHHH SHE'S FINALLY DONE! only took me two months hehe. thank you for all of the love and support for this route. i really enjoyed writing and editing this all out and i can't believe it's all done! if you're done with this series and are not interested in reading the other routes, thank you so much for reading kaminari's route! sero's route will take some time so for those of you waiting, please be patient :)

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x y/n #denki x y/n #denki x reader #bnha kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari #denki #mha denki #bnha denki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bnha social media au #mystic messenger

86 notes · View notes

atlasofthestaars · 1 year

Text

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .004

first part | previous part | next part

Note: I often try to plan out plot points while I’m at work, and I was like wow! I get why Kronika went insane because trying to keep all these plot points (especially the parts where I plan on diverging from canon) logical is wild.

This is the first chapter that doesn’t follow any of the main campaign events at all, so it was a bit more of a struggle to write for, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! There will be more chapters of this, building up the much needed foundation for the champions squad. Don’t worry Lin Kuei fans, there will be a few more Lin Kuei moments too during these times, allowing us to see them again before they disappear for a while during the tournament arc!

Shang Tsung deliberation is up until a week from when chapter 3 was released/aka when the tumblr poll ends.

Otherwise, I will accept any wants for any other love interests until we get closer towards the Outworld arc since I’m pretty sure all Earthrealm men are already confirmed.

For example, someone asked for Reiko, so here’s a poll for him to gauge interest, AO3 fans, please comment on your thoughts for him!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED TRAIN SOME NEW CHAMPIONS

Turns out, thinking about the things that worried you leads to overthinking.

Pacing back and forth in your room, you felt the cool wood under your feet. With how much you paced around the room, you were surprised the wood had not been ruined at this point. You paused in your pacing and you looked outside the window to look at the moon.

You were never a good sleeper, finding it hard to sleep at night. But oddly enough you always found yourself awake for the sunrise due to routine. You often found naps were a good supplement for your tiredness, but some days you would suffer being awake without much rest.

Your memories buzzed around your head too much to rest easy. You paced back and forth once more for a few more minutes until you stopped at the door of your room, briefly considering going and seeing whether Liu Kang could help ease your troubled mind.

Your hand laid upon the handle, the metal knob cool to the touch. Goosebumps trailed up your arm as you stared at the doorknob. You tried to will yourself to move. To finally speak with Liu Kang about the memories that weighed upon you, to free yourself of this silly burn that you brought about upon yourself.

Unfortunately, you could not bring yourself to step outside your door.

You were too racked with guilt to do that.

You were afraid of the idea that you would slip up and mention the many other memories you had recovered, the timeline you were beginning to piece together, and Liu Kang would begin to realize this. You were afraid of upsetting the man who most generously took you in and allowed you to stay by his side despite your odd past.

You did not want to ruin the good thing you had going for yourself.

Your hand dropped from the doorknob. Sighing, you walked over to a particular floorboard and carefully lifted it up. You reached inside and pulled out the leather bound diary that you had found on yourself when you first awoke in this world. Along with it was a pen that somehow, despite the years, had not run out of its smooth ink.

This was your only confidant in the memories you had. Moving towards your desk, you adjusted the lantern in your room to hang over the desk, giving you more light to work with. You stared at your words, trying to look at what you recalled.

Your memories seemed to be linked with those you interacted with, so the Lin Kuei and Liu Kang and the memories surrounding them were the strongest. Even still, you had holes in what should be completed memories. Meeting the new people seemed to patch some of them up, though.

You sighed as you skimmed the pages. They were mostly short phrases describing what you remembered from these brief memories. It was hard to keep them in order since they were random and never in order whenever you got them.

You picked up the pen, spinning it with a flourish before you began to write.

Kung Lao, a cocky monk of the Shaolin with a razor hat. Once was friends with Liu Kang. Seems now he is a farmer and friends with Raiden.

Raiden, Thunder god. Seems to have once been what Liu Kang is now. Mortal now, and a farmer of Fengjian with Kung Lao.

Johnny Cage, actor. Was with Sonya Blade and had a kid. Still an actor, has a different wife, and no kid.

Kenshi Takahashi, once a blind swordsman with telekinesis and telepathy with a magic sword. Had a kid. Now seems that he has his vision, uncertain of abilities.

You sighed as you put down your pen, staring at the words in front of you. You tried to will yourself to conjure any memories you had of these men previously from just their name. Unfortunately, this just gave you a headache…and not the kind that gave you any helpful memories.

“Damn.” You muttered leaning back in your chair. You had never had control of your memories, even after all these years. They were rather inconvenient and useless, since they rarely gave you any insight on the ones you meet. They’re all so different.

The only constant was their names.

You closed your eyes as you thought of the four men you had written down. Who were they? What was their connection to you? You sighed as you rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the headache you had accidentally given yourself.

Ah shit, you were in charge of training them, weren’t you? Or at least, somewhat.

They were going to be a headache in more ways than one, it seemed.

“So, how, exactly, am I to train the four?” You inquire as you glance over to Liu Kang, briefly noting the way the sunlight landed on his features. It was another morning of watching the sunrise with the fire god. You had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least, before rising to meet up with Liu Kang as usual. A few hours was better than nothing.

You had started off quiet, before natural conversation hit the both of you. You discussed many things, mostly the events of the past few days, before the conversation naturally landed on the new recruits. You found out that they were going to be arriving at the Wu Shi academy in a few days time, giving them enough time to get their life sorted out before they drastically change theirs.

The god looked over to you. It seemed like he had been expecting this question, and you wondered just how easily he could read you.

“You are to simply oversee their training and test their skill. I know you are not all too familiar with the teaching of the monks, so they shall handle the bulk of it.” He explained, and you found yourself sighing with relief. “Not to mention, I shall also assist when I am able.” You were not ready to have to handle training four grown men, so hearing that you were mostly there to test them was great.

You were good at fighting, at least. It was a skill that people often commended you for.

Madam Bo often praised you as one of the best she had sparred with. The old Lin Kuei’s grandmaster often found value in the practice you gave his sons. You would never admit it, but you prided yourself on these compliments.

“That’s good.” You remarked, feeling your shoulders relax. You returned your gaze to the rising sun and the pretty colors that were painted in the sky. You paused, deliberating over the next words that were to leave your mouth. “Why me?” You asked, your voice almost shy. That question had been haunting you ever since you found out about this arrangement back in Fengjian.

“Because I can trust you.” Liu Kang began, his voice filled with certainty. You felt a pang of guilt, your gaze dropping to your hands. Your mind screamed with how you were unworthy of his trust with the memories you found yourself unable to confide in him with. “And I know you will provide a healthy challenge to them.” You chuckled at his words, pushing out the voice that whispered in your head.

“Why are we recruiting these people so late?” You inquired, asking another question that had been bugging you for a while now. You were glad that Liu Kang was a benevolent god, and never seemed to mind your questions. “Would it not be more wise to recruit them earlier since the tournament is mere months away?”

“Had we sought them before, none of them would be ready.” Liu Kang answered wisely, and you hummed. You knew better than to ask how he knew this, despite the years together there were some things you knew he kept secret, and his innate knowledge was one of those things. You supposed it was just a godly thing.. “It is only until now that an opportunity presented itself.”

“And so you decided that I was one of the best options to train them within a few months?”

“Indeed.”

“You have a lot of confidence in me, Liu Kang.”

“Should I not?” The god questioned. The tone in his voice surprised you, and you looked over to him instinctively. You were surprised to see such a strong look of confidence on his face. Gently, he put a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. Through your clothes and his hand wraps, you felt the comfort of his warmth.

“No, you should.” You said, your voice filled with a bit more confidence. You looked at his face, feeling oddly proud of yourself to have earned the god’s confidence. He nodded, seeming content with the shift in your attitude. “I shall do my best.” You said, bowing for the man.

“I know you will.”

“How are you boys doing?”

Striding into the courtyard of the Wu Shi academy, you looked at the four recruits. You noted how each of them wore the uniform, and how it all seemed to fit them, more or less. You walked with confidence in front of them, imbued with the words you had been given before from Liu Kang.

All of them were various degrees of exhaustion. Not surprisingly, the actor seemed to be having it the roughest. He was still fine, but it was easy to tell he was the most winded out of the four. You assumed his luxurious lifestyle had something to do with it.

You sucked in a breath as you fought the massive headache these four were giving you. Being stuck with overseeing their training, you assumed you’d be having this feeling a lot. It was no matter, you’d simply sleep it off right now.

Strangely enough, despite the intensity of the headache, you were unable to glean any memories easily. Probably something to do with so many people trying to resurface at once.

“Training has been rigorous, but enlightening.” Raiden replied, his face flush from exertion, and you noted how out of the four he was one of the ones faring a bit better. You assumed it was because he wasn’t underestimating the monks’ intense lessons. You smiled at him, nodding.

“Good, as it should be.” You said, humming as you clasped your hands behind your back, observing them all. Despite their tired state, you could tell they were at least eager. “As Lord Liu Kang has said, I will be partially in charge of your training.” You grinned at them, seeing them perk up at your words. “Today will be a…benchmark to see where your skills lie.”

“Who exactly are you again?” Johnny asked, still hunched over slightly, hands on his knees as he looked up at you. You saw the slight glares from the others, probably because they saw his words rude. He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t get a proper introduction like you guys did.” He defended himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t take offense.” You chuckled, shaking your head. You said your name, clearly and loudly so the others made sure what it was. “I’m a companion of Lord Liu Kang, and he has entrusted me with overseeing your training.” You explained before clearing your throat. “I’m not one for lectures, so I’ll get right to it, who wishes to go first?”

The four looked amongst themselves, seeming to deliberate amongst themselves silently on who would face this challenger they’ve never seen fight. You let out a silent chuckle, wondering how they sized you up. Eventually, you watched as Kung Lao strode up to take the challenge.

“Let me show the others how it’s done.” He declared, seeming confident. You saw the small smirk on his lips, and in return you smiled graciously at him. You gestured for the others to step to the side, and you watched as a few of the monks gathered around to watch. The monks were no stranger to your fighting prowess.

“Bold.” You commended, nodding as you walked into place with Kung Lao, settling into the all too familiar fighting pose that you were familiar with. You watched as he mimicked your actions, settling into his as well. “Now, allow me to show you why I was entrusted with this task.”

You watched as Kung Lao approached, confidence in his strides. Almost too confident. You held a defensive position. The point of this test was to gauge their abilities, so acting on the defensive first would allow you to see what their confidence and skills on the offense were like.

As he swung the first punch, you blocked it with ease. You supposed it was a bit unfair, having already known what Kung Lao’s fighting style was like after watching him in the teahouse along with the bits of memories you had of him. You allowed him to attempt to break your defense more, noting how he had a strong emphasis on his punches with their quick nature.

You had to commend him on his confidence, he knew he was a strong fighter. The farmer had a lot of potential.

It wasn’t until his major slip up with throwing a rather risky punch that you decided that it was time to go on the offensive. Ducking under the move, you went for a sweep, knocking the man off his feet. You waited until he got back up before you grabbed him. Taking him off his guard, you brought him close as you winded your leg back.

As you sent the kick flying into his stomach, you transformed your leg into that of a secretary bird’s, allowing you to put even more power than you would have normally.

“Holy shit!”

You disregarded the actor’s exclaim as you watched Kung Lao fly back, tumbling from the strike. As he stumbled up, he seemed surprised before hesitantly approaching once more. This time, he utilized more caution as he swung at you, trying to even employ the technique of grabbing you like you had. Easily you shoved him back, retaliating by whirling around and transforming yourself to have a kangaroo’s tail which you swung at him with.

This back and forth went on for a bit, with Kung Lao being easily fended off by you before he eventually conceded, calling for surrender.

“You fight well.” You commend, bowing towards Kung Lao. He did the same as he panted, nodding as he caught his breath. You stood up to look at him as he gestured towards you, a look of awe on his face.

“I am amazed at your transformation skills.” The farmer admitted, looking at you up and down with amazement as he continued to catch his breath. “Is it possible to learn that?” He asked, almost too eagerly as he walked over to the side to rest up.

“It is a skill I was born with, so unfortunately I cannot teach you.” You told him, grinning as you held out your arm to transform it into a bear’s with its claws out. “I have the ability to transform any part of my body, and all of me, into an animal.” You explained as you transformed your arm back as easily as you had changed it.

“Now, who is next?”

You causally stood there, only having barely broken a sweat as they stood to the side, catching their breath. A pleased look appeared on your face as you crossed your arms, noting how they each fought. Today you had gone easy on them, being more defensive than your usual aggressive fighting style. You surmised they’d only have a few bruises each because of this. You tried to stay away from anything that would rip and tear.

Honestly, your memories had been helpful for once. They helped clue you in on the fighting style of each man, the odd exception being Raiden who felt pretty different than the man you remembered. It was nice to know what to expect, unlike the first time you had fought the Lin Kuei in training…

Kung Lao had been interesting, being the most confident in his strikes and fighting style. That matched with his speed allowed you to see where he truly shone in his fighting. Taking defense against him was a challenge due to how swiftly he struck, but being able to defend well proved useful as you could counter him when he was left vulnerable after a failed attempt at breaking your defense.

You hummed, recalling how this version of the man lacked the iconic razor hat you remembered. You wondered briefly if you should suggest it to him, or if it’d be odd. You also noticed how despite his confidence in this life, he was at least a bit more humble than when you remembered him last.

Johnny Cage had been unique, his fighting style more flashy and all in than what you were used to. It felt like it should be impractical from just watching it, but the man made it work somehow. He also had interesting evasion, which almost took you off guard. You think you could definitely work with it, especially teaching him how to better evade the opponent since he seemed to grasp that concept well already.

Your eyes looked over to Kenshi. Kenshi had been odd to train with since he wielded a sword, and it felt like he had the most experience in fighting. Your eyes trailed down to his hands, noting the tattoos that littered his hands. You remembered how Liu Kang had briefed you in on his past. A yakuza…that explains the calculated way he fought.

You wondered if you’d ever have to deal with the telekinesis you remembered he had in his past life.

Raiden had been the most different from his past life. In both his fighting since he lacked the lightning powers you remembered so strongly, and how he carried himself. He was not as confident as you hoped, despite the obvious skill he had.

You’d have to work on that with him.

“Excellent work for day one with me.” You congratulated, causing the four men to look at you with varying degrees of confusion. You guessed they thought they had done not so well due to how you had battled them off easily. “As I said, this is a benchmark, so I know now how to best advise where to take your training, especially since the tournament is mere months away.”

“That was a benchmark?” Johnny Cage asked, sending you a disbelieving look. He had been one of the ones you had ended up fighting the most before he conceded. He had been stubborn against you, and you don’t know whether that was foolish or something to be commended for. Maybe it was both. “You kicked our asses.” You chuckled as you grinned at him.

“Did you expect anything less from someone who is allowed to stand by the Fire God’s side?” You asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone before you observed them once again. “We’ll meet again tomorrow after your training with the monks. For now, you are all dismissed.” You said, bowing towards them, your hands forming a fist into your palm similarly to how Liu Kang does.

You turned around, intending to go back to the Fire Temple for a well deserved nap, especially since the headache was getting nearly unbearable at this rate. Then, you heard your name being called. Turning around with a raised eyebrow, you watched as Johnny jogged to catch up with you.

Your head pounded as he neared, but you at least felt some relief as you felt a few more memories resurface.

You recalled how he had been very, very arrogant as a younger man. He had brazenly had his name tattooed across his chest, and for a moment you allowed your head to dip to his chest, curious if he still had it in this life. Somewhere, after what you could only remember a big event as a tragedy, you remembered he mellowed out.

You wondered how this one’s attitude laid on those scales.

“You know, you’d be a hit in Hollywood.” He told you, his breath still heavy with exertion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised at his words. You weren’t all too familiar with what he was talking about, but you assumed it had to do with his acting background which you vaguely remembered.

“Really?” You asked, holding back a chuckle as you looked at him with amusement. Even across the world, he was still thinking about his acting career. “What makes you say that?” You inquire, deciding to entertain his thoughts.

“People dig animals,” The actor started off, gesturing to you, “and not to mention how much you’d be valued there for being able to act as any animal?” He continued, acting as if he were trying to sell you on the offer. “Directors would be hitting you up left and right.” You felt yourself grin a bit more at his praise, but reminded yourself not to get caught up in his flattery.

“Are you implying I’d only be adored for my animal side? And not my own charisma?” You asked with faux offense, deciding to try and tease Johnny. You were surprised how he didn’t even flinch at your words and smoothly replied.

“Nah, you got that and more.” The actor admitted, shrugging as he pointed at you. “but it’s not often people meet an animal shapeshifter.” He pointed out with a nod, making you nod. “So if anything is your claim to fame, it’s that.”

“You’re interesting, Cage.”

“So I’ve been told.” The man replied wittily as he grinned at you, eagerness shining in his eyes. “So, you interested in becoming a star after all this blows over?” It was an innocent seeming question, but you narrowed your eyes, not certain on the intention of the question.

“Why are you so interested in my career path?” You inquired, your tone a touch more serious. You glanced over to see where the others had gone. All gone. No one to save you from this man’s questions. You crossed your arms as you gazed at him with skepticism.

You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as your mind reminded you all of a sudden how he had offered a similar gig in your past life.

Some things never change.

“Listen, I talked with Liu Kang, this shit has movie written all over it.” Johnny Cage decided to be a bit more transparent with you. You raised an eyebrow, and gestured for him to go on. “I think if what he says is true, I can make a box office hit!” He gestured towards you eagerly. “And I think you have what would make this movie superb, my friend.”

“Interesting…I’ll have to pass though.” You said, shutting him down. You watched as his glee dropped a bit, and you started to walk off. You were surprised as he still walked over to try and cut you off.

“Come on, hear me out-”

“Not right now, Cage.” You replied, putting a hand up to silence him. He huffed and you could tell he held back rolling his eyes. You sent him an unamused look. “Perhaps focus on your training first, then we can discuss it.” He perked up, and you decided it was best to start to walk off before he can try and talk to you about his movie shenanigans again.

“Really!?”

It was another sleepless night.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the mattress as you sat up. Perhaps you should stop trying to take naps and fight through the sleepiness so you can actually sleep at night for once. You sigh as you slump over, rubbing your eyes.

You should go outside, maybe do something productive. It’s been a few days in a row of this, you had to try something.

Not knowing exactly what to do, you followed your sense of wanderlust. You left your room, down the halls and out the building. From there, you left and found yourself standing at the entrance of the Fire Temple. You hesitated as you stepped out onto the dirt path, hearing the rocks crunch beneath your feet.

You’ve never left in the middle of the night.

It’s not like you had a curfew, or that you had any promise to stay inside the Fire Temple at night. Far from it, you remembered how Liu Kang told you that you were allowed to come and go as you pleased. That was long ago. You never thought much of his words, thinking you would never stray far.

You wouldn’t, but you figured there was no harm in going and walking off your restless energy instead of staying cooped up within the Fire Temple.

With a burst of anxiety and what you could barely consider courage, you walked on. You followed what felt like an invisible trail, until you found yourself standing in front of the Wu Shi academy.

Strange, but you supposed maybe you could train. Walking carefully into the academy, you made sure to be quiet, as to not disturb the monks with any noise near their sleeping quarters. You found yourself making your way towards the training grounds where you were surprised to hear the faint noise of training.

Transforming your ears into bat ears, you tried to hone in on the sounds. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood still, trying to make sure the person was not a threat, and if you could recognize them. You blinked as you suddenly came to a realization.

You walked quietly, making sure to follow the lessons Madam Bo and Bi-Han had pushed onto you to remain quiet and stealthy. Be stealthful as the night, and as deadly as the dawn. You peered from around a pillar, and spotted the person standing there alone, and you confirmed your suspicions.

It was Raiden.

You watched for a few minutes, changing your eyes to those of owl eyes to see better in the dark, to better observe. He was going over the basics, ever diligently. You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow. You had thought he had been more…feeble, being more reserved than Kung Lao. And yet, he was here, training in the dead of night.

What a peculiar man.

After a few more minutes, you watched as he made a critical error in his form. He didn’t seem to notice, and you sighed. He kept on training, repeating the error. You cringed. That was going to form a nasty habit, and if you were to be the mentor Liu Kang trusted you to be, you couldn’t let that happen.

Moving out of position, you slinked closer towards him, stopping to lean against a pillar that was only a few feet away from him. You changed your eyes back, letting your eyesight return back to normal. You felt the all too familiar feeling of the headache return, and you grimaced.

Your memories for Raiden were confusing. He was like a completely different man in almost every way. If your memories didn’t trigger in such specific ways, you wouldn’t believe the man that appeared in your head was the same one that was training in front of you.

Maybe because he wasn’t the same man.

“You’re doing it wrong.” You spoke, your voice ringing clear in the quiet courtyard. You watched as Raiden jolted from surprise, stumbling as he whirled around in a fighting stance to face you. You smiled at him as you held your hands up. “Relax, Raiden.” You said softly, to try and calm him down from the sudden shock.

“Why are you…?” Raiden began, eyes wide in confusion as he stared at you, not processing the situation quickly. He swallowed as he tilted his head, mouth open as he tried to muster up the words to speak. You brushed off his confusion, gesturing to his stance.

“Your form was off.” You comment, gesturing to his body and pointing towards where he exactly had been incorrect. “You were practicing with it being wrong. That’ll be bad practice for you.” You point out. You watched as he tried to correct his form, and you hummed, gesturing to instruct him on how to fix it. As he finally shifted back into a proper stance, you nodded. “Better.”

“Um…thank you.” The farmer boy said, his awkward feeling at the situation obvious. Not only did it show on his body language, but it was shown plainly on his face. You had a feeling this man couldn’t obscure his feelings for the life of him.

It was good to be honest, but you were worried it might work against him.

“I have trouble sleeping at night.” You explained, crossing your arms as you sighed. Your eyes looked down at the ground as you noted how the moonlight fell and illuminated the area around you two. “I decided to go on a walk and wound up here. I thought it might be nice to try and train, then I saw you out here.” You looked up, and gestured to him.

“Oh.” Raiden said after a few moments of silence. His face flushed as he put two and two together that you were asking for him to explain why he was there too. “I…uh, couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, looking down to the ground in defeat. “It’s different here than in Fengjian.”

Ah. Homesickness.

“I see, so you decided to try and train and work off your restlessness?” You inquired, tilting your head as you tried to gauge his reaction. He paused, considering your words for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.

“A bit.” He said, nodding his head. “But I was also thinking about our sparring today.” The farmer admitted. You blinked in surprise, and nodded, wanting him to go on. “I just wanted to go over what the monks taught us today, so next time I would fare better against you.”

How humble and sweet.

“While I admire your determination, there’s two problems.” You said as you kicked off the pillar you had been leaning against. You strode over to stand closer to Raiden, gesturing to him. “One, you must be diligent in your forms. Practice without purpose only builds bad habits.” He nodded eagerly, seeming to take your words seriously. “Second, there is a thing such as over practicing.”

“I see.” Raiden said, letting your words sink in as he nodded. He stared at you with a mixture of admiration and attentiveness, and you smiled. Quickly, he bowed in appreciation. “I’ll keep this in mind, thank you.”

“No problem, what kind of mentor would I be if I let you practice such horrible habits?” You inquired, crossing your arms. You observed the man a few moments more, and you sensed that neither one of you were quite tired enough to go to bed. “I have a feeling neither one of us is ready to sleep, would you like me to run you through the forms again?”

“Yes please!”

Maybe you were cut out for this after all.

part five

438 notes · View notes

nataliesfirefly · 7 months

Text

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 5

a/n: hello!! i have a treat for u guys... so i know i said i don't really write smut but i felt like this story just needed it- this is my first time writing smut and it might lowkey suck. i hope it's good, i tried really hard but DAMN writing smut is not for the weak. props to you writers that do it so much better. anyways this part is kinda long BUTTT very juicy. please enjoy and leave a comment to tell me what you think or if you would like to be added to the taglist! also started posting this series on my ao3, it's the same as my tumblr username!

series masterlist

word count: 4.5k

warnings: language, alcohol, smut, fingering, angst, mentions of weed

You wake up to someone saying your name and shaking you. “Wake up,” You realize it’s Venetia. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the warm golden light of your bedroom.

“What?” Your voice comes out weak and hoarse. “Oh, thank God. I was worried about you,” She rubs your back and you groan, rolling over and shoving your face into the sheets.

“Where did you disappear to last night? All I remember is you and Farleigh going upstairs—” She stops in the middle of her sentence like she is just processing what she said. “Wait- did you and Farleigh-”

“No! No, no, no.” You shake your head aggressively. You rack your brain to recall last night’s events. You remember drinking a lot of alcohol, making out with Farleigh, and then throwing up shortly afterwards.

“Did you drink too much?” Venetia asks, her hand still on your back. “No…” You attempt to lie but you know it’s useless.

You can’t hide your physical appearance, the sign that you obviously fell asleep drunk last night. You had slept in your dress, makeup was smudged all over your face and on the pillows of your bed, and your hair was tangled, the little butterfly clips that were once in it scattered around your bed.

“Babes. Sit up, you need to drink some water.” She stands up and goes into your bathroom. You hear the faucet running as you slowly sit up, and your brain feels like it’s rolling around in your head.

“Oww,” You wince at the throbbing headache and adjust yourself, leaning against the headboard. Venetia returns and hands you a glass of water. You take it and hold it with both hands, not trusting your unstable grasp. You take a sip, letting the cool water refresh your dry throat.

“Haven’t seen Farleigh since last night either, come to think of it,” She remarks, watching you take little sips of the water. “Felix took a liking to Sadie. And you know, no one can deny Felix, so… you can guess how that went,” She chuckles to herself.

You pause and look at her. “Like, Sadie as in the one Elspeth was trying to set Farleigh up with?” You ask. Venetia nods. “Yep. Felix just can’t keep himself away from girls.” She tuts and shakes her head.

“Farleigh didn’t like her anyway,” You mutter. “I figured.” She looks at you strangely, like she’s trying to figure you out, or figure something out.

“You two seem a lot closer lately.” She raises an eyebrow. “No.” You immediately reply. She giggles at your quick response. “What? It’s not like it’s a bad thing,” She says.

“It is a bad thing.” You sigh and shake your head. Venetia narrows her eyes at you suspiciously before leaning back, deciding not to press you any further.

“What can I get you? Some painkillers?” She asks. “Yes, please.” You nod gratefully and she climbs off of your bed, heading out of your room.

You stare at the wall, thinking about last night. You didn’t want to think about it, but your mind kept going back to it. Although you were drunk and your brain was hazy, you can still remember it so clearly. The way his big hands felt so perfectly on your hips, the way he kissed your neck, the way you felt while you were underneath him. The way he made you feel. Your stomach flips as you press your thighs together, suddenly feeling warmth creep onto your face.

When Venetia returns, she refills your glass of water and hands you some pills to take. As you tip your head back to swallow the painkillers, you hear her gasp softly.

“Are those hickeys? On your neck?” You freeze and your heart drops. “Shit,” You curse under your breath. You knew there would be marks but you seemed to forget by the time you woke up.

“Oh my God,” Venetia laughs and playfully pushes you. Your face grows even more red and you glance down to avoid her gaze. “I fucking knew it,” She giggles with satisfaction and you let out an annoyed sigh.

“Please don’t go telling everyone. I don’t even know how it all happened,” You pinch the space between your eyes while closing them. “You know I won’t tell. I’m the best secret keeper around,” She nudges you softly.

“Just because we made out does not mean we’re anything,” You explain to her as if you’re trying to justify a crime. But deep down, some part of you wishes that wasn’t true. You want to at least be something to him. “We were just drunk.” Just drunk, you thought.

You manage to clean up your appearance and cover the bruises on your neck with lots of makeup. You walk downstairs to get some breakfast, maybe some toast or something to take it easy on your stomach.

You walk into the dining room and see Farleigh seated at his usual spot. After a brief moment of eye contact, you immediately drop your gaze to the floor and turn to walk to the buffet of fruit and pastries. You grab a plate and begin assembling your meal. You pause when you hear someone standing up from a chair and footsteps behind you.

Quickly, you turn around to see Farleigh walking out of the room. You watch him leave, confused by his sudden exit. You shrug and turn back to your breakfast, carrying your plate over to the table and sitting down.

You are enjoying the nice moment of peace and quiet as you take small bites of your croissant, until Felix walks in and stands on the other side of the table, looking down at you.

“Hey. Can we talk? Please?” He asks, sitting down in the chair across from you. You nod and take a drink of water.

��I’m sorry. I know Farleigh has told you things I have said. I don’t know if he’s making things up or telling the truth, but I’m sorry either way.” He says, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“I forgive you, but why would you say those things if you didn’t mean them?” You reply, trying to find compassion for him while also trying to understand his mind. “I’m not sure. I just say dumb things sometimes, mate.”

Although this seemed like a half-assed apology and you were reluctant to accept it, you wanted things to go back to normal with Felix, or as normal as they could be, especially since you have to deal with him the rest of the summer. You want to enjoy every summer at Saltburn you have left before you graduate and move on with your life. But your thoughts still linger on why Felix treated you like some stray dog off the street during your argument a few days ago, and if he meant everything he said.

“Okay.” You nod and he grins. “Friends?” He holds out his hand for you to shake across the table. You lean forward and reach out, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “Friends.” You repeat.

Dinner that night feels different. Farleigh is quieter than usual, not interjecting with his little comments or jabs. He doesn’t even glance in your direction, even though you try staring him down multiple times. His eyes are glued to the table, or off to the side somewhere else. He’s been avoiding you all day, icing you out.

“How did you and Sadie get along, Farleigh?” Elspeth suddenly asks. Farleigh shrugs. “Alright,” He says simply. Elspeth tilts her head slightly and looks back down to her plate, a puzzled look on her face.

Venetia clears her throat. “I think Sadie and Felix got along especially well.” Felix coughs suddenly. “Venetia,” He mutters. She smirks, and you laugh quietly.

One evening, you walk downstairs to look for Venetia. It’s been three painful days of Farleigh ignoring and avoiding you. You can’t lie, you miss his company, as much as it pains you to admit it.

You find Farleigh sitting on the couch in the lounge room, reading a book. Now’s your chance. He can’t avoid you now.

You approach the couch and sit down next to him. He stiffens before standing up, placing the book on the arm of the couch, and walking out of the room. What the fuck?

No, no. You can’t stand him ignoring you. It’s making your blood boil, that familiar feeling returning. Your anger towards him overcomes your senses.

You stand up and race after him, passing through the study, surrounded by tall, dark shelves of dusty old classics. You reach out and grab his wrist, forcing him to turn around. His cold and dark eyes pierce into you, and you can feel the tension already building.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You ask, your voice coming out harsher than you expected.

“Avoiding you?” He raises an eyebrow and acts clueless. Of course, he’s playing dumb. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He puts on a look of confusion, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Bullshit. You haven’t talked to me for three days. You left me that night when I was literally throwing up,” Your voice seethes with anger. He tilts his head, only now realizing you are alluding to the other night’s events.

“I was drunk. We both were.” He says. He steps forward, towering over you. “It didn’t mean anything. Don’t be an idiot,” He lowers his voice and his tone is condescending.

“Don’t do that. I know you felt it, too.” You say, lowering your own voice. You tighten your fingers around his wrist and stare deep into his eyes, searching for something, anything.

He pauses and stares right back at you. For a moment, everything is still. Until he rips his arm from your grasp and steps away.

“Felt what?” He asks, his voice cold. “Fuck you,” You whisper through gritted teeth, feeling angry because you know he’s bluffing.

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He replies teasingly, tilting his head with a slight smirk, showing his teeth.

You look away, clearly flustered and your face becomes hot. You aren’t sure what to say as you stare down at the floor. Before you know it he’s stepping back up to you and grabbing your wrist, pulling you close to him almost too quickly. You almost trip on your own feet as he effortlessly grabs you.

He leans down, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your own. You take the hint and stand on the tips of your toes to meet his height, tilting your head as your noses brush together. There’s only a millisecond of hesitation before he’s kissing you in the same way he did a few nights ago, like he’s making up for lost time.

His arms wrap around you hurriedly, desperately, as if you were trying to get away from him. Which you definitely weren’t. You place your hands on his chest to ground you as you both stumble backwards before your back hits one of the bookshelves.

You gasp for air and you hear Farleigh breathing heavily after he pulls away, but only for a brief second. His eyes are clouded with lust, his pupils blown wide, the black almost overtaking the beautiful brown rings around them.

His lips are on yours again, his body pinning you to the bookshelf. You reach your arms up to his broad shoulders as you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes flutter with delight as you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands travel down to your lower back, and then your hips.

You feel his hand slip under your sundress and grab your thigh, pushing your leg up and to the side, giving some distance between your legs. He nudges his knee right in that spot, softly grinding it against you.

He pulls away to watch your reaction, biting his bottom lip as your eyes widen. Your lips part slightly and a soft moan escapes you. “Farleigh,” You gasp, your breath short as your hands grasp onto his shoulders.

“Hmm?” He mutters, tilting his head down to kiss your neck. Your neck is still sensitive from the bruises he had left last night, but you don’t care. Your mind can only seem to focus on the ache between your legs, your body practically screaming for him.

“Please,” You whisper, although you aren’t sure what you’re begging for. But he seems to know exactly what you want. He moves his knee slightly, still keeping your leg up, and the hand that was hooked under your thigh is now hiking your dress up for easier access. His fingers dance along your inner thigh and eventually, he’s pushing your panties to the side and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his finger dipping into your wet folds without warning.

He seems to groan in response to how soaked you are, and you would normally be embarrassed, but you’re too turned on at the moment to care. Your eyebrows draw upwards and your mouth falls open as his thumb nudges at your clit, tracing agonizingly slow circles. All you can do is whimper in response as he teases you, your knees feeling so weak, like you could fall over at any minute.

Suddenly, one of his long fingers is pushing deep into the heat of your cunt, pulling a short moan out of you as your head falls forward, your forehead resting on his chest. Your walls stretch around his digit and he groans again. “So tight,” He mutters, that alone almost causing your knees to give out. Not long after, he adds a second finger, his thumb still rubbing your clit at a slightly faster pace. You can feel that familiar heat building up in your lower stomach already, causing your heart to race even faster.

You begin to grind against his hand, rolling your hips mindlessly at the tempo he set for the both of you. You swear you hear him moan, his other hand’s grip on your waist tightening to keep you in place. He seems to be enjoying this just as much as you are, his fingers curling and gliding inside of you so delightfully. His fingertips brush up against that heavenly, spongy spot inside of you that you had never been able to reach on your own, causing your jaw to go slack.

“Shit- Right there,” You grip his shoulders even harder, your head lolling back. “Yeah?” He responds, his voice deep and raspy. You nod senselessly, and his fingers continue going deeper, determined to give you that pleasure you were chasing after. It’s almost too much, and your eyes begin to tear up as his fingers glide against that spot, over and over. You feel the white hot pleasure building and building, like a coil threatening to unravel at any moment. “Far-” You manage to choke out as if to warn him.

“Look at me,” Farleigh demands, and you don’t know if you can. Your head is tilted back and your eyes are fluttering, gazing up at the ceiling. “I can’t-” You shake your head as his fingers continue working on you, your chest heaving up and down. You want to feel that euphoric relief but you don’t want the moment to end either, but it feels so good that it almost starts to hurt.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head down so that you are forced to look right at him. Your eyes are glazed over and half-lidded, your lashes wet from your tears. “Such a slut. So easy to please,” He mutters, dragging his thumb down your swollen bottom lip. “I need– Can’t-” You whimper, apparently unable to form coherent sentences as you feel your climax approaching. “Need what, baby?” He asks tauntingly, and with one final stroke on your clit, you’re gone.

Your whole body tightens and stills, the pleasure racking through you. Your eyes roll back and you claw at his shoulders desperately as he helps you ride it out. When your eyes return to him, he has an almost pained expression on his face as he watches you come undone. He moans and lets go of your chin, letting your head fall back onto his chest. You lick the tears that built at the corners of your lips, your body going limp as you breathe heavily due to the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Eventually, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, letting your dress fall back down over your legs. He takes the smallest step away from you, and you can finally raise your head enough to look up at him. His gaze bores into yours as he puts those two fingers into his mouth, tasting you, swirling his tongue over them. You can’t seem to look away. You’re fascinated by his dedication.

“See you in the morning,” His arms return to his sides and he grins smugly, turning to walk out of the study. You stand there in shock, not sure what to do with yourself. What the hell just happened? Your legs are still shaking as you flatten your dress with trembling hands.

2 YEARS EARLIER

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, pulling your hair forward to fall over your shoulders. You spun around, observing the outfit that your roommate, Lola, had put together for you. A short, denim skirt with a cropped black top with some band’s name on it. It was simple but cute.

“You look so good,” Lola stepped up behind you and grinned at your appearance. “I think I did a great job.” She nodded and slapped you on the ass. “You did. It was all you,” You told her, leaning forward to flick a remnant of mascara off your face.

You had gotten all dressed up to go clubbing with Lola. It took loads of convincing, but eventually, you agreed. In about a month or two, you would have to start revising for exams, and you wanted to get good scores. So, this was kind of your last chance to go out, have a good time, stay up late, drink, and party until you forget about your stress.

“Wait, do my extensions look alright? My sister bought them for me. She told me they were trending,” You turned around to examine her hair. She had put a few clip-in pink hair extensions to contrast her dark brown hair. “They look great.” You said. She smiled at you before turning around. “Let’s get going then,” She grabbed her purse and you followed suit, trying not to trip in your chunky platform boots.

Almost everyone you knew from Oxford was at that club. It was the closest one to campus, after all. Felix waved you and Lola over to the bar.

“So, Lola, how’s second term going for you?” Felix asked, sliding her a tall glass of beer. She shrugged, taking the beer and tasting the foam at the top. “Good. Can’t complain,” She grinned. “Same here. Just can’t wait for exams,” He remarked sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah. So excited,” You joined in, and you all chuckled. “Well, I’m going to the loo.” Lola nudged you and you turned to her. “C’mon,” She muttered. “Oh- Okay,” Felix watched you two walk off to the bathroom.

There was a line for the toilets, but instead Lola brought you to the side. “I don’t actually need to go. I just… have a question,” She had some kind of mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “What’s up?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s about Felix. Is he single?” You groaned and facepalmed. “Lola. We’ve been over this.” Lola had an intense crush on Felix ever since you introduced them to each other. You told her that it would make things awkward if they dated, considering they were both your best friends, but she never seemed to give up on her dream.

“Well, is he?” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know. He’s not really one to… settle down. He gets with a different girl, like, every other night.” You shrugged helplessly. Lola bit her lip, considering her options.

“If you are wanting a serious relationship with him, good luck.” You shook your head. Lola raised her eyebrows. “So, what about just a shag?” She asked. You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he probably wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Okay. What should I say?” Lola chewed on her nail nervously. “Uhh, just… Flirt, I guess.” You shrugged. She groaned. “You are absolutely no help.” She pat you on the shoulder before spinning on her heel and walking back out into the club and towards the bar again. “Good luck!” You shouted after her, but you don’t think she heard you.

Great. Now you were on your own. You sighed and walked out of the bathroom, shoving past groups of girls and loud men. You headed over to the lounge area, where many people sat on the velvet couches, smoking, playing drinking games, or full on making out.

You recognized one of the people in the corner. Farleigh. He was heavily making out with someone, almost grinding on them. It was most likely Sasha, you thought. But no, the other person was too tall to be Sasha. You squinted and walked a bit closer. Joshua?!

Farleigh was making out with Joshua Brown. “The fuck?” You muttered under your breath. You thought Joshua was straight. I mean, he liked girls so much, it never would have crossed your mind that he would be into men.

You wondered if you should tell Sasha about this… situation. You knew she was here tonight, you saw her earlier shaking ass on the dancefloor. And you could have sworn Farleigh was right next to her. Oh well. You wanted an excuse to snitch on Farleigh.

You backed away and walked speedily to the dancefloor, searching for Sasha. “Have you seen Sasha?” You asked a random girl. She shook her head.

You moved through the throng of students and eventually saw her. She was standing towards the edge of the dancefloor, speaking to one of her girl friends, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sasha!” You jogged over to her and paused to catch your breath. She looked you up and down like she was trying to recognize you. “Uhhh..” She trailed off, glancing to her friend. Her friend shook her head, as if to say, ‘I don’t know her either.’

“I know you don’t know me. Well, maybe you do and you just forgot, but-” You paused, realizing you sound stupid. “Anyways. I just wanted to ask if you were aware that Farleigh and Joshua Brown are making out right now…?”

She stared at you like you just spoke a different language. Then, she finally seemed to process what you said. “What? Really?” Her eyes widened and she looked over to her friend once again. You nodded. “Sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. Where exactly was this happening?” She asked, and you could tell she was mad. You could feel the rage radiating from her.

“Over by the lounge,” You told her, pointing to the opposite side of the club where you had just come from. She nodded and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Let’s go get this dumb bitch,” Sasha told her.

“Yikes,” You whispered, watching them storm off together. You kind of wanted to see Farleigh get his ass handed to him, so you followed far behind them.

They were still all over each other by the time Sasha and her friend reached them. “Hey, what the fuck?!” Sasha yelled, earning a few glances from some innocent bystanders. Farleigh froze and pushed Joshua off of him. “Shit. Hey, Sasha.” He stood there awkwardly.

Sasha stepped up to him and slapped him across the face. “Are you a fucking idiot? You asshole! Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?” Farleigh’s eyes widened as he stared down at her, completely at a stand still.

“You fucking cheater,” Her voice seethed with anger. “What, have you two already shagged?” She pointed to Joshua. Joshua just stood there, eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment. “No, we haven’t.” Farleigh replied. “And it’s not cheating. We were just-”

“Shut the fuck up.” She raised her finger at Farleigh. “Sasha, baby, please.” He opened his arms and she shook her head. “No. You’re probably high. I can smell the fucking weed on you,”

Farleigh’s eyes trailed from Sasha over to you. His eyes narrowed and it’s like he knew immediately that you were the one who snitched on him. You lowered your gaze to the floor and stepped back before turning and walking away.

Later that night, you sat with Joshua in his dorm, consoling him as he cried. Lola had texted you to inform you that she and Felix were going back to his place. You guessed she was successful after all. You held him as his shoulders shook, feeling his tears falling onto your shirt.

“I feel awful. Sasha didn’t deserve that,” He looked up at you and you nodded. “I know. Listen, they’ll be back together in no time. Trust me.” You pat his head. “And now everyone thinks I’m gay,” He sobbed.

“Well.. are you?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you. He shrugged. “I’ve just always thought Farleigh was so hot and tonight… well, he gave me some weed and then he kissed me. How could I say no?”

Oh. It made so much sense now. Joshua was always talking about Farleigh, how he was good with both girls and boys, and his skills. You thought maybe he had been jealous, but all along, he just had a crush on him.

“Damn. It’s okay. It may… take some time to figure things out, you know?” You rubbed his back and he sniffled.

You stayed the night at Joshua’s. It was already too late for you to return back to your own dorm, and you didn’t even have the key to your room. Lola did, and you knew she wasn’t there. He fell asleep with his head on your lap, so you had no choice but to lean back and try to get some sleep, despite the uncomfortable position you were in.

To no surprise, you heard Sasha and Farleigh fucking during the early hours of the morning. You knew their relationship was so fucked that Farleigh cheating wouldn’t change anything. Sasha pretended to be angry, but she loved him too much to break up with him. So instead, they just fucked.

You sat there and stared at the wall, wondering if Farleigh was the problem or if Sasha was. Sasha was psychotic, but Farleigh was the one making out with someone else. Maybe Sasha gave him a pass because he was high. Either way, you figured they were very dysfunctional. But why were you so invested in trying to figure them out, or rather, figure him out? You decided to think about that question in the morning as you drifted off to sleep.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv

#farleigh x reader #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn #farleigh saltburn

168 notes · View notes