#its not like i hate her or anything but man she had horrendous takes a lot of the time

[findingoblivion]

Did Demily finally delete? I'd say I'm sad to see her go but I'm really not. Hope she's still doing well outside of here though.

[satrs]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 II 1

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ᴬ young mother meets a single father, not knowing what that encounter meant for both her and his future.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 2.3k (this will props have a part 2. it 100% will)

Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. mention of children(obv). Mention of reader smoking. age gap(reader in early 20‘s toji in late 30‘s). nsfw content. fluff. Angst(?). Unprotected sex.

You were at your breaking point.

First, you unexpectedly get pregnant at the young age of 18, not even done with college or anything to be able to take care of an infant.

And then, the father of your child took his legs into hand and run off, the idea of settling down with a child at such a young age was a thorn in his eye.

Here you were, all alone with a child in your belly.

But it will be alright. You’re strong, you would manage.

Even though the pregnancy was unexpected and a shock at first, you were quick to love the child inside of you, despite not knowing it yet.

This reminder always got you going, standing up when you fell. You did this all for the baby, for its well-being. You would try to be the best mother possible for the child, trying to give it everything it needed and desired.

And you were right. You made it. It was a rocky and hard way, but in the end, you managed. And your child was doing perfectly. That’s all that mattered.

You were now 21, your child was already born and the best and most perfect child a mother could ask for. It was a girl, such a sweet one at that, always smiling and beaming out of joy.

But it was still hard. At the age of 21 with a low-paid job like you had, you were trying to make ends meet and tried really hard to provide everything for your 3-year-old daughter.

Even if that meant working overtime and multiple jobs at a time.

And even if that meant working in that shithole you’re currently busy in right now.

You hated working in that bar, your boss being the biggest asshole you‘ve ever met(after the father of your child) by not having any regard for you being a mother, letting you work horrendous hours which leave you so exhausted that you can have little to no time with your daughter.

It would be better to quit but, where should the money come from then? The other jobs didn’t pay you enough, your main source being this.

„Here’s your order sir. Anything else to tend to your needs?“ you earned a quick thank you from the older raven-haired man seated on the barstool, „yes one beer, please. My son should be here any minute now. Those kids are always so damn late.“

You softly laughed at his little rant, earning a light chuckle from the man himself. „Ya should reallyyy think bout it before ya have some kids, pretty girl.“

Your heart thumped in your chest at his sneaky compliment, „Oh I already have one little girl. But luckily she’s not much trouble yet.“

The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise," Wow really? How old?"

"Three. And your son?" "That brat is seventeen now. It gets tough to handle his attitude all by myself, to be honest."

You smile at him out of sympathy, writing down the order he previously wished for. Alone? Is he a single parent like you? A good-looking one at that.

"You're a good lookin momma, you that?", you chuckled at his words and before you could return the compliment, your conversation with the handsome man got disturbed by the shrill sound of your boss's voice.

"You! Get your ass here!“, he shouted out of the door to the staff room, his voice as painful in the ear as nails scratching onto a chalkboard.

You sighed in irritation, biting goodbye to the handsome man and handing his order to another bartender, making your way to the asshole of a boss.

„What?“, you questioned, clearly irritated by his behavior. „Don’t ‚what‘ me. Stop getting all cuddly with my customers and just do your damn job or you can go home to that little rat of a daughter and eat from the trash.“

Your brows frowned in anger, your next words spitting out like venom, „Don’t you dare speak about my daughter like that you fucking bastard.“

„I talk however the fuck I want. I‘m your boss.“

You breathed out a pity laugh at his answer. „Like hell, you are.“ with that, you stomped out of the room, back behind the bar, too furious to notice the older man and his now-present son looking at you in confusion.

Throwing off your apron and throwing it onto the sink, your coworker looked at you in worry. „what’s wrong?“

„That dickhead in there is wrong! I‘m not working in this shithole any longer!“ you shouted, not caring for the eyes of the customers on you. hell- you even wanted them to hear what an asshole your boss was.

At the loud sound of your voice, your boss stepped out, rage visible on his face, as he made his way towards you.“Then get the hell out for all I care! Go and whore yourself out to feed that fucking child!“

„You should watch how you’re talkin‘ to a lady, sir.“

A familiar voice rang in your ear, the dark-haired male placing a hand on the enraged man's shoulder, causing him to shut up on the spot in fear.

You took this as your chance to huff out a pitiful breath at your former boss, stepping out of the bar and throwing on your jacket.

You're doomed. What the hell did you just do? How ridiculously stupid can one be, to quit the job you desperately needed to feed the child you had at home?

You pulled out a cigarette in frustration, searching for your lighter that you desperately tried to find, to no avail. "Fuck."

Your face contoured into an annoyed expression, frustrated that you couldn't even calm yourself with a smoke.

"You shouldn't smoke if you have kids pretty." You turned to the source of the voice, the man you served earlier extending his hand towards you, your lighter in it. The scar on his lip crinkled at the smirk he was flashing you, animating you to take the lighter out of his hand, turning your attention to the cigarette between your lips.

"Like you would care." Your venomous voice caused the man to laugh lowly, leaning himself against the wall right next to you, head turning in your direction, observing you. "I do."

his intense stare didn't bother you but somewhat startled you, causing you to flash him an irritated look. "Do you want something? Can't you read the room and get when someone wants to be alone?"

"Just felt like following ya. You're interesting ya know?" His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, searching for an answer from you.

you finished your cigarette quickly, huffing out a breath at his answer, throwing the rest of the smoked-out stem to the ground, stomping on it before heading off.

"Need a ride?" He was quick to follow behind your trail, not showing any sign of leaving you so soon. What can he say? You were just the type of woman he would catch himself falling for and since he had a divorce almost 3 years ago, he felt like spicing up his single life a bit. You seemed to be the perfect candidate.

You wanted to turn and snap at him, but as you felt droplets of rain on your face, you figured it wouldn't be a bad idea. You still had some cash on you and would pay for the ride, and even if he would want you to pay for it in a different way, you wouldn`t mind. He was quite an eye-candy if you were being honest.

"What about your son?" He chuckled at that, "He'll be fine. Got here by himself so he can go back himself too." Your gaze was on him for some time before letting out a sigh.

„Alright fine.“

◇─◇──◇─◇

The drive was quiet, the older man sometimes taking a glance at you, making you nervous and looking out the window to escape his seducing gaze. „‚round the next corner right?“, he questioned, eyes fully turning in your direction when he stopped at a red light. The red light illuminated his face, beautiful features now more visible to you, not being able to tear your gaze off of his face.

„Huh?“, you questioned as your eyes flickered from his scar to his eyes, a smirk plastered on his face as he noticed you gawking.

„Your house.“, he said, a teasing smirk still glued to his face. „Oh yea. Right around there.“ He huffed out a small laugh at you, causing you to feel the heat rising up your face as you quickly returned your gaze to the window.

„So where’s yer little one?“, he questioned, quickly earning your attention back. „She’s at a friend's. She always is when I’m working this late.“

He hummed in an understanding manner. „What ‚bout the daddy?“ He was just so curious to know if you were taken or just like him, a single parent.

The empathetic part of him wished for you to have a partner, feeling bad for you to go through such a moment alone, with little to no help. But the other part hoped so desperately for your apartment to be empty and rocking your shit. Or in his car, he would accept both, no need to be picky.

You twisted your fingers, hand nervously brushing the back of your neck, „Not here.“ he noticed that you didn’t really want to talk about this topic, quickly dropping it. So he was right, you were just like him.

But damn did he feel bad for you. He couldn‘t imagine being in your shoes since he didn’t have to raise small Megumi alone, only since he was about 13 years old, a young teen. But you with a small three-year-old? It must be tough.

The car was quiet as he parked in front of your apartment, eyes glancing at your nervous form. You bid out a small thank you, not knowing what else to do. By the looks of it, he would clearly not need any money, if you take his experience car into consideration. Sex? He probably has a wife at home.

„Nahhh don’t say that. My pleasure.“ his smirk motioned you to nervously smile, unsure of what to say. „I don’t get much money but-„ he hushed you, hand placed on top of yours, stopping you from taking out your wallet.

„Nah doll don’t do me like that. You know I can’t take anything from such a pretty one like you.“ Wow so, definitely no wife I guess, you thought to yourself.

„But I can’t just leave, I‘m not like that.“ he looked out the window of your side in thought, an idea coming up his mind as he caught a quick glance of your plush thighs, nervously squished together.

God, he almost took you right then and there. But he had to get his mind straight. „Do ya got beer?“

◇─◇──◇─◇

Yeah sure, he wanted a beer, nothing else. Nonono you’re not getting this right. He didn’t actually plan to be in this position right now, your legs thrown over his shoulder as his cock was deep inside your fluttering cunt- he just wanted a beer, promise!

Oh, who was he trying to fool? He almost jumped out of joy as you offered him to stay at yours for the night since it was kind of late. And when you offered to fuck him with those innocent eyes and teasing voice of yours? Something else down there jumped too.

"Just like that pretty. Give it to me." Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his massive girth filling you up so damn well, mewling as he groaned into your neck. This had to be the best and worst day of your life. Yes, you did get fired but fuck- getting laid after what seemed like forever? A fever dream.

His hand squeezed the fat of your ass, placing a harsh slap at it. "Oh fuck!", you moaned out, head thrown back into the sheets as you felt his pelvic bone grinding against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. "T-this gotta be the best fucking pussy I ever had-fuck! So damn tight." His movements only picked up, leaving you almost completely breathless as your body rubbed up and down along the sheets, your hands clawing at the older man's back, most definitely leaving marks on it.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum.", you stated, biting your lip hard as you felt the odd but familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach, toes curling as you felt a tingle roll down your spine. "Yeah? C'mon, cream all 'round my cock."

His words and the feeling of his tongue flicking your nipple was all it took for you to cum, back arching into his chest and walls fluttering around his length as you subconsciously bucked your hips into his, curses falling from his lips at your action.

"That's right, fuckkk- I'll fill ya up yeah? Sounds good?" he teased, eager to see your reaction, your eyes shot wide open, shaking your head violently no, still coming down from your high. He chuckled at your reaction, "Don't worry pretty, just kiddin'." You relaxed at his words, moans still fleeing your lungs because of the overwhelming feeling of his cock filling you up so well. It's been so long since you had sex, such a good one at that. This might be the best fuck of your entire life.

With a couple more sloppy strokes, he swiftly pulled out of your abused hole, the head was thrown back and Adam's apple throbbed as he released all of his semen all over your thighs and stomach, some even landing on your tits.

He plopped down beside you, the both of you catching your breath, silence filling the once loud room. He broke through the silence, turning his head to look at your exhausted form. "What's your name gorgeous?"

You looked at him confused before wholeheartedly laughing at his question, causing the man to let a sly smirk creep up his lips.

"Y/N.", you said, wiping the tears of joy off your face, now your turn to ask him the same question. "Some call me Daddy and some call me Toji." He shrugged, making you chuckle again.

You moved up to get yourself cleaned up, glancing at the clock as you realized. "Fuck, they'll be here soon-" Just as those words left your mouth the doorbell rang, causing the man to sit up on the bed out of curiosity.

"Shit, shit shit!", you paced around the room, taking a hanky to quickly wipe off the evidence Toji left on you, looking for something to dress up.

Toji was quick to dress up in his boxers and throw on his shirt. "Calm down. It's ya daughter yeah? Ya can dress up in peace, I'll get it."

You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could trust this stranger you just met today. Before you could decline and get to the door yourself the bell rang again, causing you to panic. "Fuck! Alright go, hurry! Tell my friend I'm upstairs- cleaning! You're the plumber or something."

He moved in the direction of the door after chuckling. "A plumper in boxers?" You groaned in frustration, unable to get out of this situation. You couldn't possibly get the door while you were here, butt booty naked with cum on you. "Just go!"

He was quick to open the door, your friend's and daughter's eyes widening in shock, the unfamiliar face startling them. As he looked at your daughter he noticed how similar she looked to you, the same gorgeous eyes and hair, causing him to flash her a bright smile.

"Hey, little one. Yer momma is upstairs. C'mon, get in." He motioned your friend inside. She flashed a nervous smile, carefully stepping into your apartment with your daughter in her arms.

You never had guys over at your place, especially not older ones like him. What was going on?

You soon came to view, haptically running towards your daughter and taking her in your arm as you placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Hey, baby. Mommy missed you so much!"

She only looked at you confused, causing you to look up at your friend, a similar expression on her face. It was an awkward silence before your daughter's words broke through it,

"Mommy, is that daddy?"

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[marunalu]

So after calming down a bit, I need to say something about the newest chapter. As horrible written as this chapter is, there is at least ONE thing I liked about it and I feel hori did a good job at. And thats the portraying of the contrast between a child that grew up being loved by his parents and his enviroment and a child that grew up without any love in his life and an enviroment that wanted to see it DEAD.

Thanks to this chapter all this stupid takes about mitsuki being abusive to excuse bakugous abuse towards izuku can finally die now! Bakugou was loved by his parents before he was even born and you can see his parents happiness and love for him when he was born. Meanwhile afos mother didnt even know she was pregnant and its strongly hinted that she dried to get rid of her children in the river but died in childbirth. From the very moment he was born afo was forced to do everything he could to survive on his own, because there was NO ONE there who would take care of, protect and love him. He was almost eaten by rats, almost drown in a river and the following years had to survive on the streets with nothing but wearing a trash bag, clearly malnourished against people who either refused to help him or wanted to see him dead and at the same time had to take care of his weakly twin brother who would have died in this cruel world without him. In contrast bakugou grew up deeply loved in a beautiful home, got spoiled and adored by everyone. Bakugou got absolutely everything afo ever dreamed to have. Its the exact reason why he killed the grown up glowing baby out of jealousy. Its the whole reason why he cant let go of yoichi, because yoichi was the only thing he ever had and as toxic as their relationship was yoichi DID love his brother! It makes sense why afo wants him back so badly (Im NOT saying its right!)

And this may sound controversial, because while afo is BY FAR a more horrible person then bakugou EVER was (and Im saying this as someone who REALLY hates bakugous guts) I can not help but feel far more symphaty and pity for afo then I could ever feel anything positive for bakugou (but thats mostly because of the horrendous writing of his character)! He is an absolute horrible, despisful man, but who knows maybe if life would have been kinder towards him in his childhood, he eventually wouldnt have turned out the way he did and I think thats very tragic and sad.

[sirowsky-stories]

Collision

Description: A bad evening turns into a horrendous night when an accident threatens to rob Pero of the one friend he really has. But not everything is as it seems, and over the course of just one day, his life is turned upside down.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, Pero's pov, car-crash, hospital scenes, accidental pregnancy, cursing, angst, reference to smut, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 6400 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: I can't leave this man alone. I have no idea what this might turn into, it was just an idea for the Pedrostories 1k Celebration and I ran with it. So let me know if you want to read more about these guys. And thank you to the wonderful people behind @pedrostories ! You do amazing things for this fandom <3

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

   He doesn’t hate her. That’s as much as he can be sure of when it starts. She’s interesting, different from most other women he’s met, especially in how she never asks him for anything. She shows up when she needs him physically, just like he does with her, and that’s as far as it goes.    And in that sense, she’s perfect. She takes what she needs and allows him to do the same, and it works. They work.

   Until the day it all goes to Shitville.

   “Please, just listen to me!” she yells, trying to be heard over his endless growling and spitting, but he is as far from a listening mood as he’s ever been.

   “Get the fuck out of my house!” he yells back, unable to even be around her in that moment.

   He actually tries to walk away from her even though he’s in his own home. But she doesn’t let him, following him through the hall towards his bedroom, where he stops before crossing the threshold, whirling towards her to try and get rid of her.

   “I’m not doing this, Niki!”

   “No, you already did!” she fires back. “It’s not like I can make a fucking baby on my own!”

   “And why should I believe that its mine? Hm?” he challenges, and sees her eyes shift from anger to something colder.

   He’s about to cross a line and he knows it. He knows that she doesn’t give herself to anyone else, she’s not trusting enough for that. It had taken two years before she’d even let Tovar anywhere near her body.    But he doesn’t want this. Just the thought scares him worse than anything ever has. Badly enough that he can’t even have a conversation about it.

   “We’re not together, you could’ve been with a hundred guys for all I know!” he presses, fully aware that he’s way out of line, but too riled up to stop himself.

   Niki, meanwhile, is too stunned to speak. She just stands there, staring up at him in disbelief, no doubt trying to understand why he’s being so cruel when this isn’t her fault.

   “Get the fuck out,” he repeats, low and menacing, making her shiver and step back.

   She’s always known that he has a bad side, she’s seen it more times than most people around him. But she’s never seen it aimed at her before.    The one reason why she had eventually decided to trust him with her pleasure, is precisely that he’s always allowed her to see those parts of him. That he’s honest, even about the things he finds ugly in himself. And that’s why she also believes him now.

   He can see the moment in which that trust crumbles to pieces. Five years of progress, undone by something that is still, no matter how much he wants to deny it, not her fault.    She grants him his wish, and leaves without another word, while tears break the dam of her lower eyelids, spilling down her cheeks in softly sparkling streams. And he wants to wipe them away, to wipe this whole fucking mess away, but he can’t.

-=¤=-

   The ringing wakes him in the small hours of the night, tearing him out of a hazy dream filled with strange lights and ominous shadows, no doubt brought on by the bottle of whisky he’d all but gulped down in his efforts to silence the guilt and allow him to rest.    It’s an unknown number. He never answers unknown numbers, so he mutes the call and tries to go back to sleep.

   But it rings again. And again.

   “I’m trying to sleep, stop fucking calling!” he snarls instead of a greeting, when he finally answers to try and shut the caller up so he can get some sleep.

   “Sir, I’m calling from the County Hospital, I need to know if I’m speaking with Pero Tovar?” the male voice on the other end replies, and he sobers up slightly.

   Why would anyone from a hospital be calling him? The last time he’d gotten hurt had been over a year ago, and there wouldn’t be any follow up to that this long after. Especially not in the middle of the night.

   “Yes, this is him,” he says, considerably less confrontational.

   “Mr. Tovar, my name is Frank and I’m a registered nurse at the County ER. We have a patient here named Nikita Morse and yours is the only name listed as her emergency contact in the ICE information on her phone,” the man answers, and something cold and terrible shoots through Pero’s blood over the two seconds that it takes for him to absorb what he’s heard.

   “Is… Is she-…” he tries, needing to know if she’s alive, but he can’t get the word out. “What happened?” he asks instead.

   “A car accident. As I understand it, Ms. Morse wasn’t responsible, but I’m afraid that it was a severe impact, sir,” the nurse explains, and when Pero still doesn’t reply, he continues. “You should know that she’s alive, but her condition is critical.    You might wanna get down here, sir.”

   “Right…” he answers in a daze, and then hangs up the phone.

   He has never once imagined that she might get hurt. It hasn’t crossed his mind, because he’s never thought of her like that. Like someone he should care about in that way or to that extent. He’s never thought that he does.    Niki is a friend, sure, but a fuck-friend more than anything else. She isn’t someone that he hangs out with socially in the classic sense.

   They don’t have dinners or go to the movies or pubs or anywhere together. They meet up, have sex, and then part ways. Usually without even talking much and never staying the night. It’s simple and that’s why it works. Because there aren’t any feelings involved.    Or so he thought.

   He sits up on the side of the bed, holding his own head for a minute to try and stop the throbbing in his temples. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the alcohol or the shock, he just knows that it fucking hurts and he wants it to stop.    He doesn’t want to care. Caring is so complicated.    But she’s hurt, once again to no fault of her own, and he can’t just leave her there alone.

   She doesn’t have anyone, and neither does he. She doesn’t know how to trust people, and he doesn’t want to. They’re both each other’s exception. That’s why they work.

   He gets dressed and splashes cold water on his face. Not to sober up, the call took care of that, but to make sure that this isn’t a dream. He wishes that it was, so he’s disappointed when the water doesn’t jolt him awake.    Even with the keys rattling in his hand, he almost forgets to lock the door. The drive passes in a blur while his thoughts erratically jump between memories and imagined scenarios, his fears creating haunting images before his eyes.

   Parking is free outside the emergency room, but he wouldn’t have remembered to feed a meter regardless.    He gives his name at the front desk and is shown to a smaller waiting room further into the building, reserved for friends and family of patients in intensive care. It’s empty when he walks in. No other patients are as bad as Niki tonight.

   It takes thirty minutes before the door opens and a woman enters, closing it behind her.

   “Mr. Tovar?” she asks, and he nods, feeling his throat go dry at the blank expression on her face. “My name is Penelope Jackson and I’m one of the doctors who worked on Ms. Morse when she was first brought in.”

   The room is small enough that it only fits eight chairs. Three along the far wall, two on each side and one beside the door. He’s sitting on the first seat along the left-hand side wall, and she takes a seat in the single chair by the door, putting her at a ninety-degree angle to him.

   “I’m gonna be frank with you, sir. The accident was bad, and her injuries are severe. She’s already been in surgery for three hours,” she begins, and he feels himself restlessly looking for something to busy his hands with. “But she’s fighting. The surgeon who’s working on her right now says that she’s remarkably stabile, considering her injuries, so she clearly wants to live, and that’s half the battle.”

   He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling or thinking, let alone how to express any of it.

   “I’m sorry that it took us so long to call you. She had no ID on her when she arrived, and it took the police a while to find her purse and phone. They got thrown out of the car by the force of the impact.”

   An image of contorted metal and a broken body in a driver’s seat unbiddenly flashes before his eyes, and he closes them against the disturbing picture.

   “May I ask how you know her, Mr. Tovar?” Penelope inquires softly, but he doesn’t know how to respond.

   The memories of how they met replace the disturbing image in his mind. The in-house mechanic who had come to fix his forklift when it had broken down in the middle of his shift at the warehouse. The way their short conversation hadn’t felt uncomfortable even once. The rare smile that her careful attempt at a joke had put on his lips.    She’d told him later that she’d never felt so instantly secure around another person before that day.

   “We work together,” he finally says, rubbing his face against his palms to try and scrub the mental pictures from his view.

   Happy memories don’t seem to fit into this scenario.    Doctor Jackson doesn’t look surprised to hear that his relationship with her patient isn’t closer than that. Obviously, it is, but he can’t find the words to talk about that with a stranger. However tolerant she might be, he doesn’t want this woman to judge them, and anyway, their relationship, however unusual or strange, is their own business.

   “Do you know if she has any allergies or pre-existing medical conditions?” the doctor asks then, and he answers without looking up at her.

   “Isn’t that in her records?”

   “She doesn’t have any,” Penelope replies, and he snaps his head up to meet her eyes.

   “What are you talking about? She broke her collarbone eight years ago. She fell off a horse and broke her left arm and four ribs down her left side a year after that.    Of course, she has records, those things didn’t heal of their own.”

   “We did notice those scars, among others, but her treatment must’ve been at a private medical facility, because we can’t find any records of her anywhere in the country.”

   No… that makes no sense. To his knowledge, Niki isn’t and never has been anywhere near wealthy enough to afford private care. But the doctor has no reason to lie about it.    There’s no way for him to figure this out right here and now, though, so he refocuses on her question. Although, he only knows of one medical issue that’s relevant to the current situation.

   “Did you notice that she’s pregnant?” he asks quietly, as if just saying it out loud might make it more real somehow.

   It feels like it does.

   “Yes. A woman of fertile age being brought in without records or next of kin, we’re gonna try and learn as much as we can about before we send her down to surgery. Pregnancy is one of the first things we check in that situation.    She’s about six weeks along. Is the child yours?”

   He can’t say it out loud, so he merely nods again. But he knows that it’s true. No matter what he’d said to her last night, he damned well knows.

   “For the time being, the fetus is alive, but I’m sorry to say that there are no guarantees. If she makes it through this, the healing is gonna take time and a lot of energy, and her body might not be able to do both,” the doctor says, and she sounds genuinely sad now.

   Pero doesn’t know how he feels about this. He can’t tell if he’s sad or angry or worried. It’s just too much.    He wants Niki to survive. But beyond that…

   “We’ll let you know as soon as anything changes, okay?” Jackson offers, and again, he nods, unable to do anything but exist for the time being.

   Unfortunately, as she steps out, the police walk in, and he instantly wants to tell them to fuck off so that he can have one god damned minute to try and think.    His brain is a beehive, and the queen isn’t letting him think for himself. It’s just loud and incomprehensible and he wants to scream, if only to drown it out for a single second.    Instead, he sighs deeply and runs both palms over the sides of his neck, before leaning back and letting his hands come to rest in his lap.

   “Mr. Tovar?” the younger male officer asks while he and his partner, a middle-aged woman, take a seat opposite him.

   “Yeah.”

   “I’m detective Burns and this is my partner, detective Winson. We’ve been assigned to Ms. Morse’s case, and we’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright?”

   What a stupid question. What is he supposed to say? No?    But they’re waiting for an answer, so the question apparently wasn’t just for show.

   “Okay.”

   “How long have you known her?” the man starts, taking out a notepad in the meantime.

   “A little over five years. She’s a truck-mechanic at the warehouse where I work.”

   “Do you know if she has any family?”

   “She hasn’t mentioned anyone.”

   “What about friends?”

   “So far as I know, just me,” Pero shrugs, but both the detectives seem to find that answer interesting.

   “You’ve known her for five years, but you have no idea what other people might be in her life at all?” the woman chips in, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

   “We’re not… close. Not like that,” he admits, for the first time feeling ashamed of the fact that he really doesn’t know the one person in his life that he calls a friend.

   “Like what, then?” the man presses, and Tovar nervously scratches at his own palms.

   “We don’t talk much, we just… hook up.”

   He doesn’t want to see their judgement, but he glances up anyway, to make sure that they understand what he’s saying. Unexpectedly, he’s met by indifference from them both, which actually sets him at ease.

   “I see. So, you wouldn’t have noticed any suspicious activities around her?” detective Burns asks, thereby shifting Pero’s entire perspective on the events which have put him in this room tonight.

   “Suspicious activities?” he asks, wanting to know if they’re referring to Niki doing something questionable, or someone else acting dubiously towards her.

   “Any faces that kept popping up around her, cars that seemed to show up wherever she did… that kind of stuff.”

   “You think someone was following her?” he wonders, and the thought makes him feel sick.

   But it also makes him think back on what the nurse on the phone had said.

   “Wait… the accident wasn’t her fault, right? Did someone hit her on purpose, is that what this is about? Is someone trying to kill Niki?” he demands, feeling anger begin to take hold of his senses.

   Anger is less crippling than care and much easier than pain, so he clings to it, hoping that it’ll give him a place to put all the shit that he doesn’t know what to do with. And more than that, if there really is a human being who is responsible for this, that gives him someone to blame. Someone to hurt.    But the policemen remain guarded.

   “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, sir,” detective Winson takes over. “Do you know anything about her past? Her hometown, school, sports or social activities that she took part in? Her interests or hobbies?”

   “No. All I know is that she likes horses and dogs. And Chinese food.”

   And me. He doesn’t say it, but he feels certain that Niki likes him.    He doesn’t know how much she cares about him, maybe not at all, but he thinks so. He thinks that that’s why she sticks to their unspoken arrangement without fail. Because he’s all she’s got, which means that he’s probably the only one she really cares about. Enough to make sure that she’ll never lose him.

   How horrible it must’ve been, then. To come to his house with the news of the baby, knowing that it would likely tear everything apart.    Sitting there with the police, and his only friend on an operating table somewhere beneath his feet, he suddenly wonders what would’ve happened if he hadn’t thrown her out. If he’d had the courage to talk to her.

   Would she have been safe right now?

   “Alright, I’m gonna level with you here, Mr. Tovar, because you seem like the kinda guy that might go off and do something stupid with the wrong sort of idea in your head,” Winson continues, bringing him back to the moment.

   He doesn’t like her tone, though. There’s something unsettling about it. He can’t tell what exactly, but it feels like this woman might be a problem waiting to happen.    He hopes that he’s imagining it.

   “Obviously, we haven’t had time to really investigate much yet, but the first step of any case is to learn more about the people involved. And since the other driver fled the scene, Ms. Morse is the only person that we have available to us, so that’s where we’ve focused our efforts so far.    However, our initial look at her has already created quite a few question marks,” she explains, and the unsettling feeling in his gut intensifies.

   “About what?” he asks, finding himself getting almost desperate to learn more about Niki, the one thing he has never wanted before today.

   “Well, for starters, her personal file indicates that she’s attended public school in New York, with stellar grades and commendations from her teachers, before being accepted to MIT, where she studied mechanical engineering and graduated with honors.    Quite a good start to life, wouldn’t you say?”

   “Sure,” he shrugs, because while he knows that MIT is considered a prestigious school, academia has never interested or impressed him.

   “Most people would agree. So, why then did she completely disappear after that?” the detective wonders, clearly not expecting him to have an answer as she carries on. “From the day she graduated, more than fifteen years ago, right up until she was hired by her current employer nearly six years ago, there’s no record of her at all.    She’d never leased an apartment or bought a house, never had a membership card to anything, never bought a car, never traveled abroad because she’d never had a passport made.    Then, six years ago, she pops back up here. She buys a car, rents an apartment and gets hired by your employer, all in the same day.”

   Shit. Those are all pretty good examples of “suspicious activities”.

   “Okay… What does that mean?” he asks, playing dumb, because he’s already got a few guesses of his own.

   But he wants to know as much about where their heads are at as he can, and in which direction that they might be about to take this investigation.

   “We don’t know yet. It’s been five hours since the crash and all we do know at this point, is that your friend’s past has a big hole in it. Which also means that we can’t be certain about anything concerning the accident.”

   “So, what? You think that she could’ve done this to herself?”

   “No, another car obviously hit her. But since this was a hit-and-run, we don’t know what happened or why.    And until I know what’s going on with Ms. Morse, I’m not ruling anything out.”

-=¤=-

   It takes another two hours of surgery before she’s taken off the table and brought to the ICU, where he’s allowed to see her for a few minutes.    She looks… wrong. Her eyelids are too heavy, her body too limp. The color of her skin is off. He’s never seen her sleeping, but it looks more like she’s already dead rather than asleep.    He’s been informed that her spleen, stomach and left lung has suffered damage, and that they’ve had to repair a tear in the wall of her heart. It all sounds so bad.

   Her right arm is in a cast and there’s a thick bandage on her right thigh, where a large gash has been torn through the skin by either metal or plastic broken off from the center console of the car. Her face is covered in both smaller and larger cuts, some of whom have needed stiches, others that are just taped or glued.    She has a concussion, but miraculously, her brain hasn’t swelled. Not yet anyway.    They say that she shouldn’t be alive, but she is.

   He doesn’t know what to say as he stands there beside her while nurses make sure that she’s properly connected to all the machines around her and that the pillows which support her injured arm and leg, won’t cause her any discomfort.    She’s all he has, and yet he can’t find the words to tell her that. To ask her to keep fighting just so that he doesn’t have to lose her.

   So much of her is broken and cut up that he doesn’t dare to touch her either, afraid that he might hurt her even with something as simple as a brush of his fingertips.    He just stands there, staring at her as if he could wake her up by sheer willpower.

   “Her left hand is undamaged,” one of the nurses says, in a voice which is so genuinely warm and caring that it almost makes him cry.

   He’s not even sure why. Perhaps just from the knowledge that truly kind people still exist. Or maybe it’s just plain and simple gratitude.    But he doesn’t cry, nor does he take Niki’s left hand. He turns and then walks out of the ICU and out of the hospital, back to his car.    Once behind the wheel, he just sits there for a minute, breathing hard against the internal distress which plagues him.

   He doesn’t know how to handle this.    He shouldn’t leave. But he does.

   The accident took place somewhere on her route home from visiting him, so he traces it, looking for the scene, not even sure why he wants to see it.    He couldn’t have missed it if he’d tried. The rescue vehicles have left, but the police are still there, and the entire scene is cordoned off while the CSI team works.    It looks like a bomb went off.

   There’s debris everywhere. And not just shattered glass and pieces of the body of the car. Engine parts, entire sections of the exhaust system, things from the boot of her SUV have been thrown as much as a hundred feet from the actual point of impact.    The car itself is unrecognizable, standing against a broken lamppost on the wrong side of the road. They’d had to cut the roof off to get to her, but the entire frame of the car is curved in the middle, where the other vehicle ran straight into it.

   The side airbags saved her life, but if the point of contact between the two cars had been just one foot further towards the front of Niki’s car, her body would’ve taken the entire force of the impact. She could never have survived that. Which had undoubtedly been the intent.    Now that he sees it, Pero is convinced that this crash happened on purpose. There’s no redlight, which means no cameras, and the speed limit of the road wouldn’t have enabled a crash this severe.

   He can see how it had happened. Niki is a responsible driver; she obeys the law and is always focused on the task of driving. She had right of way and even if she hadn’t slowed, she would still have checked both directions as she came into the intersection.    The other car would’ve had to be coming at her so fast in between the buildings to the left, that even if she had seen it, she wouldn’t have had time to swerve or even react.

   But why would someone want a simple mechanic dead?

   Clearly, Pero doesn’t know her, he’s never made much effort to, so it’s possible that those nine years in which no one seems to know where she was or what she was doing, she could’ve lived a different life. Perhaps one which made her some enemies.    He doesn’t know her, but now he needs to. He needs to understand this. Because whatever happens next, the events of this night have changed things.

   He doesn’t have any other friends, but he knows some people. People who can help him dig up some information. So, he leaves the crash-site and heads across town.    It’s not even 5 am yet, but the man he needs to see is already up, he’s sure of it. The guy rarely sleeps more than four hours a night, courtesy of PTSD from his time in Afghanistan.    And sure enough, the door opens just seconds after he knocks, and a pair of wide awake, crisp blue eyes seek him out.

   “Tovar… Long time no see.”

   “Hey, Will,” he nods, just as the man takes in the state of him.

   “The fuck happened to you?”

   “Shit. Shit happened,” he deadpans, and then sighs heavily and rubs his forehead for a moment. “I need you to help me find something.”

   The man deliberates for a few beats, hearing that. There’s water under the bridge between them, lots of it, but he knows Pero well enough to know that he only ever asks for help when something is seriously wrong.

   “Yeah, alright,” he finally decides, letting go of the door and turning to head back into his house, knowing that his guest will follow.

   They walk into the kitchen where his host prepares coffee for them both, before they take a seat at the table.    Will might be a war veteran, but he’s better off than most. After his service, he started up a private company which he can manage from home, and which keeps him in good financial order. The house isn’t particularly fancy, but if one looks around, there are items in there which seem too pricy for someone like him to afford.

   Such as a top brand coffee maker. The type that can use those little capsules for each cup, or grind beans to the drinker’s preference.    Further into the house, there’s a computer system which would make NASA envious, where he does all of his work, primarily consisting of background checks, which anyone can hire him to do, entirely legally.    But his skillset is much more extensive than that.

   “So, who am I looking at?” he asks once they’re settled.

   “Her name is Nikita Morse. She works at OffSup too, but she’s a mechanic,” Pero explains, hoping that there won’t be too many follow-up questions.

   “And why am I looking at her?”

   “Because I think someone’s trying to kill her, and it seems to have something to with a nine-year period when the police can’t find any records of her.”

   “Okay. But why am I looking at her?” Will repeats, obviously referring to why his guest has taken an interest in this person at all.

   He doesn’t want to talk to anyone about Niki, and least of all someone who might ridicule him for it, but the man won’t help him unless he answers his questions.

   “She’s a friend,” is all he says, hoping it’ll be enough.

   “You don’t have friends.”

   “She’s the exception.”

   William thinks on that for a moment, studying his guest closely over the rim of his coffee cup while he takes another sip.    He knows that Tovar deliberately avoids making friends with people, and he knows why. So, he has every reason not to believe him.

   “You fucking her?” the man asks, and he damned near throws his coffee at him.

   He doesn’t need to know that. He’s only asking as a way to gauge his guest’s honesty on the subject, which might determine whether or not he agrees to look into it.

   “Yes,” Pero begrudgingly admits through tight jaws, daring the man to try and pry any further, but he wisely decides not to.

   “So, what’s happened to bring you to my door?”

   “There was an accident and now the police are looking into her life, and I got the feeling that they want to find something incriminating about her.    But that might just be how my fucked-up brain interpreted a strained situation… I don’t know,” he offers, hoping that by being a bit more open, Will might feel somewhat more cooperative.

   “You think they’re looking for a scapegoat? For an accident?”

   “It wasn’t an accident. Like I said, there’s stuff in her past that doesn’t add up and I need to know what the hell it is before the cops find out, or I’ll have no chance to protect her.”

   “You actually care about this woman?” his host asks, but with contempt more than incredulity, which makes Pero decide that the conversation is over.

   “Please, just look into it,” he says, before standing and heading for the door, leaving his empty cup on the table.

   On his way back to his house for a shower and some breakfast, and more coffee so that he’ll be able to think rather than just stay awake, it occurs to him that she might not be safe at the hospital either.    Whoever it was that had hit her car, they must’ve left thinking or at least hoping that she’d died, so once they learn that she’s still alive, there’s every chance that they might try to silence her again.

   The thought worries him. But so long as she’s in the ICU she should be safe. There’s too much staff there all the time for any unfamiliar face to slip past. The nurses all know each other and the entire support-staff by name, they have eyes on the patients constantly and because of the very limited timeframes in which loved ones are allowed to visit, they keep track of everyone who comes and goes.

   But his hair is still wet when he returns to the ward, with a thermos mug in his hand since he’d opted to eat in the car on the way instead and has yet to finish the giant espresso that he’d made for himself.    He registers with the nurse at the front desk of the ICU. The nametag on his chest says “Frank”.

   “Sorry about before,” Pero apologizes, to which the nurse looks puzzled, so he adds: “I screamed at you on the phone.”

   “Oh, that’s alright. Most people dislike being called in the middle of the night. But thank you,” Frank replies with practiced ease, no doubt used to verbal abuse on the job. “Nikita’s doing better, so if you like, you can stay with her for a bit.”

   He’s surprised to hear that. It’s only been a couple of hours since she came out of surgery, after all. But it’s good news. And he’s in dire need of good news.

   “Thanks,” he says and then walks over to the third slot where her specialized bed is parked in the middle of an array of machinery, and a blue sheet is all that separates her from the other slots.

   There are four in total, but only one of the others is in use for the time being. Which means that the ward is pretty quiet that morning. The staff is working on computers, writing in charts and quietly talking amongst themselves.    As he sits there, watching Niki fight for every breath, he listens closely to everything around him, trying to learn the noise of the hospital so that he’ll know if something changes.

   But soon enough, looking at her takes hold of his entire focus. She’s so fragile. Breathing on her own but otherwise motionless, in that way that only dead things are motionless. Stationary. Static.    It makes him want to shake her. To provoke some form of a reaction, even just a flutter of her eyelids. But he knows that he can’t.

   He closes his eyes against the uncanny stillness, preferring even the darkness to the visible evidence of her torment. But it isn’t darkness that meets him when the image before him falls away. Instead, the memory of their first time together pops up in his mind.    She had asked him if she could come over for a drink that night, but he’d known as soon as she’d spoken what she’d really meant by that. The words might have concealed her true motives, but her face and body had not.

   She’d walked into his house that evening with a hunger in her eyes. He’d offered her a beer and after just one swig, she’d stepped closer to him, eyeing his lips and licking her own.    The kiss had been chaste. Brief and tentative, like a person about to take a bath, putting their fingers in the water first, to check the temperature. But they’d both wanted more, and they’d both asked for it, with everything except words.

   Her hands had been demanding on his hips, craving friction, and he’d given it to her. She’d been so brave that night, letting him explore her skin, learn her desires and soft spots, her cravings and pleasures. And in turn, he’d shown her his.    In just a couple of hours, they’d learned more about each other than they had in the two years leading up to it.

   He has never failed to make her come. She looks so beautiful when she climaxes that he would never settle for less than getting to see it at least once each time.    She never fails to make him feel complete. More than just satisfied, he feels proud and grateful when she reaches for him. When she tells him how much she loves what he does to her, even when he does his damnedest to tease and frustrate her.    Even when he’s in a mood and needs to take before he can give.

   Those are the only times that he feels ashamed. The only times he worries that she might not let him touch her again. He’s rough when he gets like that, but he never wants to hurt her, or make her scream.    He’s never told her that, but she still knows it. She knows what he feels better than he does himself, but she never tries to teach him how to better understand himself. If that was something he wanted, she assumes that he’d ask for it.

   He opens his eyes again, leaving behind the soft shimmer of the sweat on her skin after she’d come undone for him that first time, within his mind’s eye where nothing can ever destroy it.    He returns to the ICU. Her skin is too dry here, in the air-condition.

   “Good morning, Mr. Tovar,” a familiar voice says to his right, and he looks up to find Doctor Jackson coming to a stop beside him. “I see you’ve been through a shower. Or did you just stick your head in the sprinklers outside?”

   His hair is still not dry. He runs a hand through it to try and get some more air into it.

   “Went home for a bit,” he answers, and she hums in agreement.

   “Good. Don’t forget to take care of yourself too. But anyway, I just wanted to let you know that my shift is over now, and that Doctor Leo will be replacing me for the dayshift. He’ll be coming by in a while to check on her.”

   “How is she?” he asks, hoping to hear that the doc can read something out of all those monitors that he can’t, and that Niki is still improving.

   “You know, throughout all of this, her heart has never faltered,” Penelope says, and there’s admiration in her voice. “Even when she was first brought in, broken and shocked and having lost so much blood, her heart drummed steady and firm.    That’s what convinces me that she’s gonna make it. The machines tell me that her vital signs are good, but I don’t trust them even half as much as a person’s heart.”

   She squeezes his shoulder gently, and then leaves, but her words stay with him. He likes those words. They give him peace of mind.

   A little while later, a nurse he hasn’t met before, another dayshift replacement, approaches him and tells him that he has to leave for a while. He doesn’t protest. But he doesn’t step any further away than that he can still see everyone who walks into her slot.    Doctors and nurses walk in and out, the sheet is pulled back and forth in between procedures and cleaning routines for her wounds, new IV bags are placed. Everything is fine.

   Until he walks in.    Pero knows the moment he sees him, stepping into the ward and stopping to survey the area, that he doesn’t belong. He’s too calm. Practiced sort of calm.    The ICU is a place of distress, either internal or external, but both are visible in all the people who wander around in there, save for the staff.

   This man isn’t here to meet a loved one, he’s here to work. But if he was part of the staff, he wouldn’t need to orient himself in the environment. He wouldn’t stop just inside the door, he’d go to his colleagues, or find the locker rooms and get changed.    Tovar watches him as he locates Niki, stares at her as though she was little more than a sheet of paper, and then turns around and leaves.

   She’s not safe here anymore. But how the fuck is he supposed to get her out of here in her state? Where does one even hide an intensive care patient?

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Part 2

Thank you for reading, and remember: I have no taglist anymore. Follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications for updates on my writing :)

[megsironthrone]

I Was Wrong

Based on this request:  Heyyy how about a Jon x Reader. Maybe she’s Theons other sister and taken in at the same time. They clash a lot growing up. Years later She shows up for a battle and saves him. He wants to find the person that saved him and when he realises it’s her he’s shocked but they admit they were wrong about each other growing up… change it about if you like but thought it was a fun idea 🥰l

Here you are! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!* My apologies for taking so long!

Warnings: mentions of battle and a little short. Not much else, I don’t think. Am open to writing a part 2!

Pairings/Characters: Jon Snow x fem!reader

You and Jon had never gotten along as children. Like your brother Theon, you had been taken in by Lord Stark at a young age. Unlike Theon, however, you were far more likely to let your anger at the situation show. More often than not, you let that anger out on the only person you knew you wouldn't get scolded for. Jon. And he gave as well as he got so the two of you were always arguing. Jon thought you were a spoiled little princess who was afraid to get dirty. You thought he simply hated you because he was a bastard and you weren't. It was horrendous for everyone else around you and, unfortunately, it would take years for anything to change.

*time skip*

         Jon could feel his body slowing down. It had been a long, hard battle and it was beginning to take its toll on the young man. For a brief moment, Jon wondered if this was indeed the end for him. For real this time. However, he didn't have time to ponder his imminent demise for very long. From seemingly out of nowhere, a figure was by his side. They fought alongside him and all Jon could make out was (h/c) hair and armor that seemed…different.  

         Whoever this person was, they were an excellent fighter. Thanks to them and the other fighters, Jon's battle was soon won. Before Jon could thank his savior, they had disappeared. The dark-haired man searched throughout the camp and the stronghold to no avail. He simply couldn't find who he was looking for. That is, until he made his way to the forges where the blacksmiths were resting. It was there that he noticed the (h/c) hair and peculiar armor.

         His savior was speaking with one of the blacksmiths when Jon approached. The blacksmith noticed him first and bowed. Jon opened his mouth to thank the warrior who had saved him, only to be met with a face he'd never forget. "Lady Y/N?" he asked in surprise. You gave him a soft, tired smile. "Your Grace," you greeted with curtsy that looked odd given that you were wearing armor.

         "Leave us," Jon ordered softly. Your men looked to you and you nodded with another smile. As the soldiers, bannermen, and blacksmiths filed out, the air in the room grew thick with an odd tension. It was as if neither one of you knew how the other was going to react. When you were alone, Jon met your gaze once again.

         "You saved me," he stated simply and you shrugged. "I did. I couldn't very well let the King in the North die, could I?" Jon stared for a moment. His dark eyes were practically boring into your soul. "Why?"

         "Why?" you repeated as your brows scrunched in confusion. Jon asked why you saved him. Why couldn't you have let him die? "Yes, Y/N, why? You hate me. Since we were children." You let out a scoff and shook your head. "I never hated you, Jon," you admitted. Jon's eyes widened a bit. "I mean, I didn't particularly like you, but I never hated you. I think, as children, you were so desperate to be like Robb and Theon, the people who teased me mercilessly, that I was hurt. And I didn't like that you were so bitter about the circumstances of your birth.  But hate was never a feeling I had for you."

         Jon didn't reply, causing another awkward silence to descend between you. You shuffled from one foot to the other for a bit before speaking again, "I-I should return to the celebrations with my men. Goodnight, Your Grace." You turned to walk away. "I was wrong," Jon's quiet voice cut through the dark, empty space. You paused and glanced over your shoulder.

         "I was wrong," he repeated, "I always thought you were, well, like Lady Stark with me. I believed you thought lowly of me because of my birth. I thought you were a spoiled lady who was afraid to get her hands dirty. I'm sorry." You smiled at him. "You're forgiven. As long as you can forgive me for being wrong about you. You're a good king, Jon, and an even better man." Jon finally returned your smile which seemed to prompt you to leave the area. He watched you go hoping that this was the start of a new friendship.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I struggled to end this differently for weeks)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog  @etherealpotter @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @gruffle1​ @smalltownbigheart​ @supernatural4life2022​

Jon Snow Tags: @multi-fandom-imagines8​ @silversprings98​

[funnel-webbed-au]

All's Fair in Love and War

Her lips on his.

It was all that he needed to snap out of the stress-induced coma, but the sight of her vivid fuchsia eyes made his heart skip a beat. The heat in his cheeks faded as quickly as it had come as the vines around his wrists finally registered in his head.

The love of his life had tied him up, and that harsh glare gave away just how much rage boiled within her. Although she rarely let her reborn features show, Lian wanted to scare him now. Her silky, frond-like horns and venom-laced claws truly gave the spider a run for his money. He should have known that mantises were prone to killing their mates... but why hadn't she yet?

"Tell me where my brother is, Pierre." Her voice cut through his ears with its harshness, and the spider flinched from those words. She wasn't going to budge, was she? She'd never understand the fate that had befallen one of the men she loved the most. Pierre took a deep breath, his jade green eyes falling shut for fear of how she may react.

"He's at the spider lair. Don't go after him, Lian, whoever he was, he isn't that person now. He hallucinates, and his haunting screams at night can keep us all awake. His lair is covered in venom-laced webs and filled with chemical weaponry. He fights us on a daily basis, he is not safe to be around. Whoever he used to be, whoever you knew him as, he is not that man anymore, and trying to save him is too risky for all parties involved."

Lian hardly budged, even as Syntax cautiously opened his eyes, one after the other. His mate's expression told him she wasn't backing down, no matter the danger. Even if it meant she would receive horrendous chemical burns and claw marks on her body, she would do damn near anything for her brother.

Even chain up her lover and interrogate him until she got what she wanted: Information.

As the vines withdrew, Syntax sighed and staggered to his feet, only to be pushed against the wall by his partner. Her eyes drilled into his, a warning of what might be to come if he kept such important information from her again. A shiver ran down the spider's spine, but color returned to his face when she loosened her grip on his collar.

"I'm going after him. Don't try to stop me, Pierre, Nezha's my brother, and I'd sooner die than let anything happen to him. We've been all we've really had for centuries, longer than you've been alive. Do me a favor and keep your head down. Don't let Stella know I'm coming."

Pierre released a deep sigh. She really wasn't going to listen to him, but what kind of a partner was he if he didn't trust her abilities? He knew she was a powerful Deity, and could fend for herself if necessary, but she also didn't take care of herself like she should have.

"...fine. I won't stop you. Under one condition. Allow me to place a microchip under your skin. I've specifically tailored it to check for an adrenaline response as well as track your location. It's meant to alert me if you're in any danger." The tech spider swallowed, folding his claws behind his back. He'd always felt small one way or another, and it was worse now than it had been in a while. She was 6'4. It was hard not to be scared of her when she was angry.

To his surprise, Lian exhaled and relaxed.

"Whatever you need to feel better about it, darling. I'm... sorry for snapping at you like that." The nature Deity rubbed her arm as her horn-like antennae disappeared, along with her wrath. She hated having to put him in such a terrifying position, but it was that or not know where the hell her brother was or if he was safe.

Syntax slid the chip underneath her skin once he'd retrieved it, then breathed off the stress from the events prior. She wasn't going to tear him open, to defile his currently pristine body. No, he was safe. She wasn't going to hurt him.

Lian looked away when she realized how severely she'd scared her mate. Her recklessness, it had hurt them both. She wished she hadn't jumped the gun like that, but it was what it was.

There wasn't any turning back now.

[cagethefrenchfuc]

okok so here me out ,,,

fluffy relationship hcs with crypto bc i am down so horrendously bad 🙏

Crypto dating a syndicate legend headcanons

Crypto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of kissing a lot and Thigh touching and Hair pulling (innocently)

A/N: I apologize if this isn't good this is the first apex thing I've written, but I tried to make it good for my favorite crypto simp out there <3

When you first joined the games crypto was very iffy about you, I mean he is like that about everyone he's super hypercautious, but he still was drawn to you, nevertheless.

He was very scared of his feelings for you especially because you were teamed with caustic, and we all know that caustic and he hate each other (he also lowkey thought you and caustic were together oops)

The first-time you guys got put onto a team together he was so nervous he kept fucking up. which just resulted in you and mirage both mercilessly making fun of him

Let this be known though the only reason him had the balls to end up asking you out is because Wattson was tired of seeing him lose (also she was tired of seeing him use the drone to watch you). When you guys finally got together oh my goodness every be dammed nobody was safe.

Kissing. Everywhere. All the time. Caustic and Wattson constantly pulling you guys apart

Him teaching you how to hack and how to use the drone and him showering you with compliments when you do a single thing good.

him being very overprotective when you guys are in the game even though you are a high trained assassin with the powers of a demon, "No you can't run into that building alone you could get hurt" "I am an assassin and literally the spawn of the devil himself" "yeah but what if you get hurt"

him being overprotective when mirage is around because he is a flirt, and all you can think about is how mirage definitely doesn't want you and totally wants crypto (but I mean hey you'd take them both, IN A PRO WRESTLING MATCH OF COURSE)

every time you guys win a game it's a cuddle party

I mean this man loves to cuddle everywhere, all the time especially if you're doing something

"hey what the hell can't you see I'm cleaning my daggers" "cant you see your boyfriend wants cuddles ??"

you literally doing anything for him though because you love him even though you are somewhat bad at showing it

you making him the hype beast skin for one of mirages parties "don't you think this is a little revealing" "what do you mean you look great honey" "I'm shirtless" "exactly you look great honey"

when he gets drunk that means he gets touchy, kissing you in the hot tub."

Kissing you on the dance floor

Kissing you on the deck of the boat

KISSING YOU ON THE BAR

Wattson and Caustic have to escort you guys out of there and its not very nicely either

touching your thighs

speaking of your thighs Haha he loves them very much

kissing your thighs

You know what else he loves? Your hair he loves running his fingers through it

He loves when you put it up in a bun cause that means its time to have fun,,, training of course and he knows you will kick his ass

He loves pulling your hair as well *wink*

DATES!!

He loves taking you on dates when you guys are on Olympus

Picnics in the grass

Picking you nice flowers

Kissing under the cherry trees

Going for rides in the tridents at night

Crypto surprising you with your own version of the hype beast skin for your guys anniversary

You and Wattson getting along sometimes and then absolutely at each other's throats the next I mean you do work for the syndicate so she doesn't think you guys should be together, But Crypto is happy and that's all she wants.

You wanting to bring up why he's in the games and you wanting to ask about his sister

you don't of course because you already know what happened to her and he doesn't need to know he's happy with you and that's all that matters

Crypto promising you that when he finds his sister you and him can leave the games and get married and just start your own lives

you know that will never happen but not telling him that

talks about getting a cat and a lizard when you finally get your own lives

saying you guys should get married with all the legends on olympus just because thats where you guys met so thats where you guys should end your story, and well you couldnt agree more but your guys story wouldnt be ending in the way he hoped...

All in all, though you are absolutely happy you get to have him for a few more years...

And then Maggie arrives.

Again, sorry if this is bad and the formatting looks like shit I am trying to get used to Tumblr, Also the end seems like there's going to be a part two to this but there won't unless specifically requested just saying i had no intentions on that i only put the end like that cause when Maggie joined apex that's when the syndicate revolution started happening.

Request are open !!

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[denkineptune]

mha date headcanons- boys and girls :))

♡ request: “i love ur blog already, ur writing is so good!!! im so excited to see the content u’ll be posting !! :D since ur taking requests, how abt some date headcanons for the mha boys (or girls if u want!) ?” - @dianangels​ 

♡ thank you for letting me write girls aaa i chose to do some as first date hc. it was kinda hard to keep jirou’s gn because i wanted to reference wlw stereotypes but i succeeded in gender-neutral because i want everyone to be able to enjoy

♡ dedicating part of this to @anxious-botanist​ because she’s the one who inspired the momo cuddles hehe sorry it took so long

♡ fic details: headcanons, fluff, gender-neutral reader, 2nd pov

characters: kaminari, amajiki, jirou, ashido, yaoyorozu

kaminari- arcade

↠AR C ADE   DA T  E

↠you hear me??? arcade!! date!! ideal man, right here, someone claim him immediately or else i will be forced to take ownership

↠he’s super laid back and chill, pretty childish at heart. he only means the best, though, so i think an arcade is exactly what he would go for when taking you on a date! he doesn’t have a lot of money but still wants you to go home with something to remember the date by

↠he buys like $50 worth of tokens and splits it between the two of you, making sure that he tells you which games give the most tickets, because he’s definitely been here enough times to remember

↠his favorite game is either crossy roads or the big bass wheel- he loves crossy roads because of how cute the style is, but also there is impending stress and levels of  d o o m  as you progress further. big bass wheel is basically just gambling, and i think he’s yumeko jabami.

↠he hacks games to make you win sometimes,, his quirk is bascially designed to do this. it’s like he was born just to take you out on this arcade date. he uses his quirk to short circuit the game and trick the computer into giving you hundreds of tickets

↠he just wants to make you happy and see you smile!! there’s not a feeling quite like succeeding at something as silly as an arcade game, but there’s a certain pride to it that he loves seeing on your face. 

↠kaminari only does it a few times, since he knows that you should be earning your prizes ((not that you know when he does it, he’s really cheeky about it))

↠playyyy multiplayers with him! he loves DDR (dance dance revolution)- you do multiple rounds and are equally exhausted by the end of it akdflad you may not be good, and tbh neither is denki, but you still have fun, which is what matters

↠he also loves taking photobooth pictures, he puts on the most horrendous filters and does the dumbest poses, but it’s so adorable. he does the typical one smile, one “serious”, one silly face, one kith > <

↠kami gets cocky,,, it’s just how he is,, he gets overly confident whether or not he’s been on a winstreak

“heyy, y/n! look at my speedrun on this, i’m getting so many tickets, i’ll be able to get a house by the end of it!”

↠and then he CAN’T because he doesn’t get the jackpot eghgdhgeh

↠by the end of the day, you’ve spent hours at the arcade, laughing and screaming with denki as you terrorize the small children. yes, he’s that kind of guy

↠by “terrorize”, i don’t mean like a bully, but he’s unintentionally intimidating kids with his pockets overflowing with ticket chains, a crazed look on his face as he goes absolutely ham on the shooting games

↠there’s electricity coming off of him, kids sometimes have to dodge it when passing by

↠so anyways, by the end of the date, you’re basically being kicked out of the arcade, because, as kami puts it,

“we were here when it opened and i’ll be damned if we’re not here when it closes,”

↠between the two of you, you’ve aquired tens of thousands of tickets??? the employees probably hate y’all, they had to count those beasts of ticket rolls you’ve accumulated during the 10 hours the arcade was open

↠exactly 62,069 tickets (69 go brrr- kaminari’s brain), and you can basically buy the arcade with that currency

↠but here’s the thing: he lets you spend all of it. you heard me, all. of. it. he just wants to see you happy, and the best way he can think of to get a final glorious memory of your smile is to let you spend the tickets as you see fit, this generosity just to see you glowing as you walk out of the building, arms chock full of amazing junk

↠but of course, you’d feel bad if you spent all of it, especially since he was the one who took you out, so you offered him the half of the tickets that were won

“denki, you won most of these with your amAzINg gaming skills, it’s only fair you get to have something too,”

“my prize will be seeing you- your- your-- aw fuck, i forgot the line, it’ll come back to me, just give me a minute.”

↠he tried to be smooth and it failed, but you chuckled at the attempt, so all around, he considered it a success

↠denki gets a lot of dumb things that will probably end up being thrown away soon, but he also gets you a very soft bat stuffed animal that you should treasure and keep forever 

amajiki- a walk and picnic in a japanese garden

↠tamaki is very shy, very socially anxious. he’s the kind to wait for people to leave a section of a store before he goes there, purposely do his errands in the early morning to limit social interaction, and find any excuse to leave a situation. which, tbh, isn’t that all of us?

↠let’s be honest here, if it wasn’t y’alls first date, he’d probably not go anywhere. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t really care for anything too fancy

↠but he’s convinced himself that he needs to do something reasonably big for your first date to make sure you don’t regret your decision to go out with him. so instead of deciding to stay in, he goes somewhere that’s only slightly anxious for him, but where he still feels comfortable

↠so he’s decided on a japanese tsukiyama garden! these places are beautiful by design, not cheap but not too expensive, and people are obligated by rules to be quiet and keep their hands to themselves

↠nobody goes to a garden to socialize, in fact, i’d argue most people go just to look around, rest, and clear their heads. there’s usually not any screaming children, no quirk usage, no villains, it’s a little safe haven. 

↠bonus: there’s butterflies :))

↠it’s so peaceful, and he gets to focus on you instead of whatever loud noise is making him anxious

↠he brings a picnic basket filled with all your favorite foods, and his! he makes a show out of displaying what he can manifest with different snacks, making a point to eat edible seeds so he can produce flowers for you 🥺🥺🥺

↠you walk around the garden for a few hours, marveling at the decor and how well-maintained everything is. there’s a koi pond, hanging wisteria trees, and multiple gazebos that create a really comfortable and calm environment

↠speaking of koi ponds, amajiki offers to buy you food so you can feed the fish! you stand on a bridge above the pond, sharing the container with him. the sMILE on his face when he watches you throw the food is so pure i’m-

↠he’s the walking embodiment of “uwu”- his face is so calm and his eyes are shining and he can feel his heart swelling with love i am GOING to cry my eyes out 

↠but honestly, he wishes he could stay in this moment forever- you’re happy, he’s happy, and it feels like you two are the only people in the universe. right now, he doesn’t have to worry about school, villain attacks, his future, or anything that makes him anxious; all that he can see right now is how beautiful and at peace you look. he took you out today, and you’re enjoying yourself. this is one of the few things that makes him confident: knowing that he’s able to make you happy

↠tamaki is silently celebrating; you’ve had a good time and he didn’t freak out, so it’s the best possible scenario!

ashido- rollerskating! ((look at her she’s adorable the smile n the eyes aaa))

↠mina is a very energetic and bubbly person, its quite obvious if you’ve spent any amount of time around her

↠for your first date with her, she’d already have a location in mind!!

↠the atmosphere of rollerskating rinks is so electric, she can’t help but feel happy there, and she wants to experience that lovely feeling with you, too :))

↠you enter the rink, and mina is already borderline bouncing off the walls alskdfj

↠whether or not you’ve ever skated before, ashido is super cautious with you- multiple times she’s fallen on her butt while learning how to skate, so unless you’re a pro, she’s watching your every move to make sure you don’t get hurt

“y/n! please be careful- you’re not getting hurt on my watch!”

↠she jabs a thumb in her direction proudly, with the cutest bigass grin on her face awh 🥺🥺🥺she’s really enthusiastic about sharing one of her passions with you

“try to balance, alright? don’t put too much weight on your heel or toes, because then you’ll fall on your butt. here, take my hand and i’ll help you! hey, there you go, you’re doing great!”

↠she pays for everything and will WRESTLE you if you try to disagree aldkfa if you’re the type of person to pay for everything as well, y’all are going to have to fight; mina will not give up

↠ashido comes here a lot, so she’s friendly with all the employees, she has the uncanny ability to make friends wherever she goes ((i mean she’s friends with bakugou,, if she can do that,, she can do anything))

↠she takes one of your hands and backs onto the rink, watching for anyone behind her. once you’re balanced properly, she shows you how to move your feet so that the two of you are in sync

↠skating isn’t super hard to figure out, it’s mostly intuitive, so you’ll get the hang of it quite quickly!! maybe you’re not too fast, but it’s still fun, so it doesn’t matter

↠while you’re moving with care, making sure to focus on your footwork, mina will definitely take the chance to show off her skating skills! she’s moving like crazy, weaving around other people and nearly toppling them over but shh she’s trying to impress you and if i’m being honest??? she’s really fucking good aldkdf 

↠it’s obvious that she loves this hobby, and the fact that she likes you enough to share it with you on your first date is so adorable aaaa

↠mina’s really agile- you don’t know if that’s all the hero training or just something that comes naturally, but the way she moves makes skating look like the easiest goddamn thing in the world-

↠she’s such a romantic, she’s definitely put in a request for the dj to play your favorite song, no matter if it fits the mood or not

↠heavy rock? sure!! as long as you’re having fun, who cares about what other people think? super vulgar rap?? w h y  n o t ? !

↠she just has that extroverted, positive, charming energy that’s infectious

↠you can’t help but feel at ease around her, she’s a genuinely a great person, and what you think the epitome of a hero is

↠all ashido really wants here is to have fun with you- i mean she really likes you, and hopes that she’ll get to go on another date w/ you, so she’s doing everything in her power to woo u

↠and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working 🥺👉👈

jirou- hanging out in her room

↠kyouka jirou, being the more introverted person she is, wouldn’t really want to go somewhere super public, like mina would

↠i also believe that she’d want to be friends (or at least acquaintances) with you before asking you on a date- she’s easily annoyed by people, so i think that she’d need to be comfortable around you if she was to be romantically interested 

↠and you’ve ticked all these boxes! you understand her sarcastic, blunt personality, and find it pretty amusing. beyond all that, she’s kind and caring, and deep down, she aspires to be a hero for all the right reasons. who wouldn’t love her for that?

↠so for your first date with kyouka, i think she’d want to be somewhere quiet and intimate with you. she wouldn’t want any interruptions ((specifically from jammingyay, who enjoys butting his head in other peoples’ business))

↠the most comfortable place for her would be her room, since it’s really just an extension of her personality, and since you’re quite close, she’d be okay with letting you in her private space. she trusts you.

↠just two guys bein dudes 🤠 ((if you’re a girl, it’s just sappho and her friend--))

↠music is one of the biggest things in jirou’s life, and i think she’d want to share it with you. that is, if you’d let her :)) she has dozens of different instruments, so if you want to attempt to learn something, she’d be totally down!! 

↠please show her what kind of music you’re into! no matter what it is, she’ll listen to it. she wants to get to know what kind of person you are when you’re not around other people, and music is a great way to do that. even if you don’t have the same taste as her, she wouldn’t mind, since a) she’ll listen to pretty much anything, she’s not picky; and b) it’s something that you’re showing her, and that’s enough to make her happy

↠she’s not a very formal person, so i think she’d just want to talk to you and hang out. i’d think kyouka would be more of a fan of a gradual relationship, one that starts from friends and slowly evolves into more. and yes, as you can probably tell, i am a sucker for mutual pining and friends-to-lovers tropes-- im a simple hoe 😌

↠she’s super fun to hang out with!! her sense of humor is really snarky, she also enjoys talking shit about people she doesn’t like. if you’re not into that, she’s able to carry on conversation really well. there’s not a moment of awkward silence between you

↠jirou actually really likes talking shit about people hsahsh- as long as it’s someone that’s been mean in some way. she won’t say anything bad about someone who hasn’t done anything to deserve it. but if you’ve wronged her in some way, boy, do you have it COMING

↠by the end of it, i just know your cheeks hurt from laughing 

↠she’s just a really fun person to be around, she may not be the most bubbly person ever, but she’s super easy-going and cool ((jirou bias incoming ekejke))

↠i do think she’d try to sneak some kind of affection if she thinks you’d reciprocate- if you’re really getting along well, she might snake her hand into yours when you’re sitting on the bed, laughing

↠honestly you might not even notice until she stops, because your hand feels empty and cold without her like your heart aa

↠if she’s really into you?? might get a smol peck on the cheek 👉👈 please try to get a smol peck on the cheek, it’s very cute and she gets so flustered

↠she goes up to you as you’re about to leave her room, grabs your shoulder, turns you around, and gives you an adorable if not slightly aggressive smooch

↠then she reFUSES to acknowledge what she just did akdfld- she turns away, beet red, and is completely silent

↠meanwhile you’re probably laughing your ass off because wow she’s so cute

↠kudos if you give one back to her, baby is on the verge of exploding ejkdjf 

↠her heart just can’t handle what you’re doing to her

↠and despite what her appearance is, her heart is doing backflips- she’s whipped <33

momo: tea and c u d d l e s

↠she’s a very fancy person, obviously. yaoyorozu wants only the best for everyone she loves, and that, of course, includes you! she loves showing affection through giving things to others. her family status only magnifies this aspect of her personality, as being born into wealth gives her the means to spoil you rotten

↠and even though she’s bougie as all hell, she also somehow maintains an elegant and simple air about her. it’s impressive, really. it’s not like she tries to flex her money, it’s just a part of her life, and she enjoys using her privilege well

↠that being said, what’s more elegant and mature than going for tea? it’s a lovely pastime that momo would love to include you in! 

↠lowkey,, she’s a whole sugar momma dfkdjla im not even joking- she doesn’t try to be, but virtually everything she does shows how rich she is

↠you arrive at the tea room, and by god is it fancy. there’s multiple chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which is decorated with classic renaissance-style paintings. all the tables are set with white cloth, plates made of pure fine china, flowers and woven baskets set everywhere to create a cottagecore-like setting. the air about it is so sophisticated, from the patrons (wait is that a celebrity-) to the decorations

↠your face is kinda just,,, 😮,, because what in the world did momo get you into??

“momo, you’re so sweet, and this place is lovely, but don’t you think this is a bit much? not that i don’t absolutely appreciate it, it’s just that this seems really expensive, and i don’t want you to have to spend that much for just one date.”

↠she just chuckles, saying that it was “really nothing” (???? MISS GIRL???)

“don’t worry, y/n, this isn’t too much! i want to have fun today, and this place is so nice! let’s just find a table, alright?”

↠like, hunney, you’re so kind, but this is a LOT

↠but if you say so....

↠she looks at you with the most enthusiastic, wholesome eyes, and soon you’re following her like a puppy towards your table. the waiter sits you down, and leaves, giving you a moment to glaze over the menu to find a drink

↠and there’s so many types of teas, at least 30 on this page alone. you hadn’t even heard of half of these drinks, how would you know if you’d like them?

↠yaomomo seemed to notice your puzzlement, and said that you could get a pot of something simple, like jasmine green or earl grey, and she would get something fancier that you could try. why not?

↠a few minutes later, you’ve already adjusted to the sophisticated and intimidating environment, focusing only on the girl across from you, and how her eyes glittered with happiness

↠she orders a few normal tea foods, like scones with jam, lemon curd, and devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. the fanciest thing she buys, though, is a blooming tea that arrives in a clear pot. it has an open flower inside of it, which is what the tea is infused with. it’s nearly 16,100 yen for one pot, though, and while you protest its expense, momo reassures you that it’s no problem (you just learned not to say anything about money, as it wouldn’t stop yaoyorozu from spoiling you)

↠ngl, it’s so fun to pretend to be fancy for a few hours at a tea room !! you acted as if you were a member of high society, using stereotypes to exaggerate your actions. it made some people only slightly irritated, but hey, it got a laugh out of a pretty girl, so who’s the real winner? 

↠yaomomo taught you some classy etiquette that you should definitely use, it makes her so happy to think that you’re learning about new things while still enjoying your time with her

↠she makes really good conversation!! her intellect seeps through everything she says, anyone who talks to her would be able to tell that she’s extremely well-spoken and mature. momo is modest, and deflects a lot of the compliments you try to give her, so if you try to display your admiration for her, you’d probably need to be very specific about it. she doesn’t have the best self-image when it comes to her heroism and field work. spoken affection sometimes doesn’t get through to her, but you know what does? physical affection!

↠she loves cuddles, and will regularly take you back to her house after a date to cuddle in her bed. her mattress is legendary, and it’s comfortable as hell. there’s an abundance of pillows and the bed isn’t too soft or too firm, and it’s always somehow an amazing temperature???? mattresses are investments, and this was definitely a good one

↠momo loves the intimacy and trust of holding you, it allows her to escape from overthinking and only focus on you, her beautiful partner. she doesn’t care if she’s the big or little spoon, but her favorite kind of cuddling is when you’re on your back and she’s curled into your side, head tucked under your chin and hand on your chest

↠she can do this for hours, please let her. she feels safe with you, confident, because you’re choosing to spend time with her in this quiet moment instead of being off somewhere else.

↠in conclusion,,, 💕women 💕

-denkineptune

[sadclearance]

right hand

pairing: katsuki bakugo x male!reader

summary: 5 things bakugo uses his right hand for + 1 thing bakugo uses his left hand for *wrote with “left hand” being in mind as a prequel, but can also be read as a standalone 

category: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 1500

key:

s/t - skin tone

i.

when they were in high school, midoriya izuku noticed that bakugo katsuki--his childhood friend and bully--always started fights with a right hook.

which was incredibly powerful, albeit predictable.

midoriya still remembers a specific sunny morning in their third year when this expected yet efficient move was used for something that wasn't exactly a fight. a second year had made the unbelievably stupid mistake of--

"watch it, dumbass!"

and immediately after bakugo caught y/n before he could fall on his ass, bakugo's right fist met with the second year's nose, successfully breaking it and scorching off the hairs of the kid's eyebrows.

at the time, nobody really thought anything of it. bakugo was protective of the few people that he considered--but would never outright admit--to be his friends, and y/n was one of them.

ii.

but it was at the christmas social event that was held for the third years to get a chance to make connections as well as have fun before the end of their student years that it became clear that it was much much more than just friends looking out for each other.

"what're you doing all alone?" kaminari asked as he leaned against the wall next to y/n.

"everyone's either flirting with pro heroes or kissing their asses, and i'm not really in the mood to do either."

"yeah, i can see that," kaminari snickered as mineta got slapped in the face by mount lady after both a series of terrible flirting and a horrendous attempt to literally kiss her ass.

"surprised you're not doing the same."

"well..." kaminari said as he pointed up. he was wearing a hat with a hanging mistletoe.

"how not unexpected," y/n laughed.

"you know the tradition," kaminari winked pointing at his lips.

"okay, okay. for the holiday spirit--"

and as y/n leaned in to give kaminari a peck, a strong right hand grabbed his chin, and his lips met with a pair that belonged to someone else.

kaminari was too shocked to be disappointed after being pushed away by none other than bakugo.

"fuck off, dunce face," bakugo said before crashing his lips against y/n's.

that was one hell of a way to find out that two of his best friends were dating.

iii.

bakugo's jealousy only got worse after graduation.

but to be fair, that was his own fault.

he may have chilled out since their time together as first years, but he was still a headstrong ambitious hero.

they didn't go public with their relationship because bakugo figured it would be distracting to his goal.

which was a decision that he immediately regretted when he remembered just how attractive y/n was--something that other people clearly appreciated as well.

y/n got gifts, compliments, and very suggestive comments wherever he went, which did nothing but fuel bakugo's anger and displeasure.

there was a solution to this problem, and it was to let it be known to the world that y/n was his and his only.

instead of doing what normal couples do and going to an interviewer or announcing their relationship on his social media accounts, bakugo decided to--

"so... y/n," the barista looked at the name she just wrote on the cup and then back to y/n. "are you seeing anybody?"

"what's taking so fucking long?" bakugo asked as he came up behind y/n, right hand harshly meeting y/n's left ass cheek.

"ow! what the hell? there's paparazzi right outside of the window," y/n scolded, gesturing toward the crowd of people with cameras on the other side of the glass wall.

bakugo's only response was to press a kiss against y/n's lips, smirking into it as he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye, fully aware of the fact that his hand was still on y/n's ass.

iv.

when he saw a building crumbling on top of y/n, he knew what he had to do.

he had faced a similar obstacle to this in his first year of high school, when he was up against round face--ochako. she had collected rubble that he had unknowingly provided and gathered it all up to the sky, later using it as a weapon by making it rain down on bakugo.

a building, however, had much more stone than a collection of collateral concrete that an individual collected over only a few minutes.

"y/n!" he shouted.

recreating the move from his first year, he raised his right hand and released a massive explosion--one much larger than the original maneuver.

he had succeeded for the most part. small bits of rubble rained down on them, but it was more like getting hit by hail than being buried by a boulder.

"bakugo!"

the mentioned man gritted his teeth and pressed the rough fingers of his left hand into his terribly cramped and pained right hand.

"you overdid it, you idiot!"

y/n rushed to get medical attention, and bakugo reluctantly let himself be pulled around.

he would've crudely yelled back that he didn't need help, but the worried look on y/n's face stopped him.

"i'm not gonna die, dumbass," bakugo rolled his eyes. the words were intended to come off harsher, and more like bakugo insulting a subordinate for not being able to see the obvious, but they came out closer to a soft reassurance instead.

"do that again, and i'll kill you myself," y/n glared. he looked more like an angry puppy.

"as if you could even land a hit on m--"

y/n's lips shut him up.

"even though that was the stupidest thing i've ever seen, thank you for saving me," y/n smiled, rubbing soft circles into bakugo's right hand.

"'stupidest thing you've ever seen'..." bakugo grumbled.

v.

"what the fuck are you doing?"

it's been a habit to hold hands while doing almost anything since their time together at u.a.

hell, they used to hold hands throughout basically all of high school except during hero training.

subjects like math, language, history--they didn't require both hands. they only needed to write on a piece of paper, and they only needed their dominant hands for that.

so it comes as no surprise that that habit followed them to their pro hero years, pale left hand entwined with s/t right hand as they finish their paperwork.

bakugo's confusion was prompted by y/n's sudden fascination with his right hand.

"i rarely ever give this one attention," y/n shrugged.

"it's not its own being. like a pet or a person."

the look bakugo gave y/n told him that he was the biggest dumbass in history, but y/n ignored it in favor of responding, "still a part of you i rarely get a piece of."

"i hate the way you worded that, creep..."

"you're still blushing."

"in your fucking dreams!"

+i.

going to a nice place was somewhat out of the ordinary for the two of them.

bakugo was focused on being the top hero, and being the top hero meant sacrificing a lot of time.

y/n doesn't know what changed bakugo's mind so suddenly, but he wasn't about to reject a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"the breeze is so nice," y/n breathed in the fresh air of the beach.

he had ran up to the gorgeous ocean, cold water hitting his bare legs while he tried to convince bakugo to join him.

"not up to the challenge? that's rare," y/n teased, turning his back to him and going deeper into the sea.

"oh, shut your trap! i have a damn good reason."

"yeah, i'm sure you do. you sure you aren't just cold?"

"i said shut the fuck up!"

"okay, okay," y/n complied and entertained himself with the vibrant blue waves.

"i love you," came bakugo's voice abruptly.

"that's weird, you never say it first, especially not without any form or profan--" y/n turned around to give bakugo a ridiculous look, laughing as he did, only to stop almost immediately.

"fuck y--" bakugo had to stop his habitual reflex. "marry me... dumbass?"

bakugo with a nervous tone, one knee in the sand, struggling to not get up because of the annoying shifting and imbalance, and a ring in his hands was a priceless sight to see.

"yes! yes! yes!" y/n ran back to the dry sand.

bakugo grinned and accepted the kiss but broke it off sooner than he would've liked for the fear of dropping the ring and losing it to the waves.

he slid the ring on y/n's hand with a proud smile before y/n demanded to have the other ring.

"shit, calm down," bakugo laughed, but he couldn't help but feel happy that y/n was just as ecstatic.

although he was the one to say that, bakugo's left hand struggled to stay still as y/n put the ring on bakugo's ring finger.

"i love you," y/n pressed his lips against the trembling left hand once he was done.

with the rings safely on their hands, bakugo could freely go back to enjoying the treasure that was y/n's lips.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

a sequel exactly a month after

i like this format because i'm shit at transitions

i mean just look at the shift from iii to iv...

i had an idea for the right hand theme for a while now since the battle trials when izuku mentioned the right hook thing but i was like woah i could do it with this while writing left hand

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Jackunzel Month

Day 18 - The Little Mermaid

***

Y’all thought I was done with Jackunzel Month??? PSYCHE

I apologize for being horrendously late!!! For some reason this one-shot was really hard to write??? I think it’s partially because the first Jackunzel fic I ever wrote was in a mermaid AU, so I was really trying to make this its own distinct thing while still trying to incorporate some of the things I liked about that story. I got pretty nostalgic writing this regardless ;_____;

Starring Jack as a random poor fisherman’s kid instead of a prince because fuck that, Jack ain’t no prince, he’s poor af! He’s really Just Some Guy who happens to be pretty funny, and the idea of a very pretty young mermaid very readily preferring that over some larger-than-life prince who’s also Moneybags McGee is both endlessly amusing and extremely heartwarming to me.

Also, I strongly believe that these two’s teasing and banter would only be enhanced by one of them being half fish X3

Random aside, but I watched some scenes from The Little Mermaid for inspo, and like...Ariel x Eric is actually way cuter than I remember??? Like lowkey I hated TLM as a kid (mainly because I was a not-like-the-other-girls pick-me type who made a point of despising anything even remotely feminine lmao) and like...Ariel still isn’t my fave, and I can’t help but make fun of the whole “daddy I love this man I’ve spoken to 0 times!!!” bit. But lowkey when Ariel and Eric DO start interacting, their chemistry is...actually pretty solid???

Not that Eric’s whole “I’m going to marry this girl because she sings nice!!!” bit is any less ridiculous XD Honestly I think these two ditzy idiots are kinda perfect for each other that way XD

Pic credits available upon request!

Fic preview under the cut!!! Go read the rest on my ff.net account, Infrared-Ultraviolet!

***

Rapunzel lay sprawled on a surf-beaten boulder, pink tail swishing behind her as she watched the distant figures on the beach.

She was nestled in a cove of pointy rocks, hidden and far enough away that no one running around on the sandy beach was likely to spot her. Rapunzel was no stranger to the perils of the human world, after all.

Looming above the pale golden shoreline and the human fishing village just past was a great castle, stark-white stone towers and rust-colored roof spires stabbing into the sky. Rumors flew around the merkingdom about the viciousness of the people in that castle, going out in lavish boats and dragging in enormous nets filled with every type of sea life under the sun—fish, crabs, lobsters, shrimp, seals, dolphins. Those merfolk brave enough to go near the palace claimed they heard the screams of animals drifting from the windows, and sometimes felt drops of scalding oil fall from above and sear into their scales. Whatever way the humans killed and ate creatures of the sea was likely not kind. One particularly gossipy young merboy had even claimed they once were roasting a merperson over a spit in their courtyard, although Rapunzel doubted that.

The human prince was said to hold sea creatures prisoner, a tank full of tropical fish taking up his entire wall. Rapunzel had heard many a haunting bedtime tale from her father that if she didn’t behave, she’d end up trapped in the prince’s collection. She’d heard of him and other well-off humans holding great shows and performances, where they came to gawk and point at sea animals and harass them for entertainment. Some of the crueler humans would hit dolphins and seals with rods until they did tricks.

Although Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel a sort of morbid fascination with the castle, it wasn’t the reason she snuck out to watch the humans.

A brown-haired boy raced down the beach, dressed in a threadbare beige shirt and a tattered brown vest and pair of trousers. A little girl with matching dark hair ran just in front of him, laughing. He caught up to her and pinched her playfully in the side, and she screamed in delight.

Anna didn’t understand Rapunzel’s taste. She’d always said if a human had to catch the blonde’s eye, she’d think it would be one of the snappily-dressed ones who rode by in fancy carriages, or one of the dignified ones who marched down the more lavish piers wearing powdered wigs and petticoats.

But no, the one she had her heart set on was a fisherman’s son, dressed practically in rags and always sweaty from running and bouncing everywhere he went.

She’d seen him a number of times. When he wasn’t out on his father’s fishing boat, he was dashing around the beach or the docks, trying to make his sister laugh. She sometimes spotted him on top of the soaring seaside cliffs just past the rocky shore. He would sit or stand there alone for what seemed like hours, gazing off into the distance with a strange expression.

Rapunzel wondered if it might be a sort of yearning, but she didn’t want to read too much into it.

Other than those mysterious moments on the cliffs, he always radiated joy. Every time she saw him, he was beaming or laughing or putting on some silly performance for the younger kids. His happiness was so infectious that every time she spotted him, and consequently stayed to “observe” him for probably much longer than was appropriate, she went home feeling giddy and cheerful.

She wanted to know him.

Merida thought Rapunzel’s taste was absurd. It was beyond her, how Rapunzel could risk getting into the most massive trouble either of them had ever known and getting captured and imprisoned by the cruelest of the land creatures, all for some fisherman’s son. It was easy for Merida to say—she had always been enchanted by the sea maidens that surrounded them. Rapunzel saw her head turn every time one swam by, eyes darting over flashing tangerine or violet or emerald-hued scales and looking approvingly at elaborate hairstyles held in place by shells. Merida was baffled by what a dry and shriveled-up land creature could ever have to offer.

Nonetheless, Rapunzel found herself coming back to the rocky cove whenever she had a spare afternoon.

She kept telling herself Today’s the day. Today’s the day I’m going to work up the guts to talk to him.

It never actually was the day, but that was neither here nor there.

On the distant beach, the little brown-haired girl and several other children her age were playing in the sand, building rickety castles with buckets. The fisherman’s son stood watching them for a while before leaning down and murmuring something in the little brunette girl’s ear. She nodded with a big beam, and the boy turned and began making his way down the shoreline.

Toward Rapunzel.

She glanced across the cove, at a flat boulder right on the edge of the beach.

She could go there if she wanted. She could wait for the boy to come to her, and if any of the kids in the distance looked up and saw her, a quick escape into the surrounding water would be easy. No one else was around to run and tell the castle staff that a new mermaid was ready and available for kidnapping.

Before Rapunzel knew it, her fins were carrying her over to the rock by the beach, and she was pulling herself onto it. If she really wanted to talk to Fisher Boy, it was probably now or never.

Before she could second-guess herself, the approaching boy looked up and locked eyes with her. He nearly fell over.

“Whoa, what the—are you really—”

“Uh…hi.” Rapunzel gave him her most winning beam.

The boy blinked a few times, taking a couple of tentative steps forward. His eyes drifted to her tail, gawking at it.

He opened his mouth, as if to let out a cry of alarm. Rapunzel quickly put up her hands to stop him. “Please don’t freak out!”

His mouth snapped shut. “I am definitely not freaking out. I just also definitely did not expect to start talking to a supernatural entity on my walk down the beach today.”

Rapunzel tipped her head to one side. “Am I a supernatural entity?”

“Considering until today, I didn’t think girls with fishtails existed outside of sailor’s tall tales floating around seafood market stalls…I’d say so, yeah.”

Rapunzel glanced down at the gleaming anemone-pink scales covering her lower half, and her eyes flicked back to the boy. “Well, you can walk around on land. That seems pretty supernatural to me.”

He took a step closer, taking another long look at her lower half. Rapunzel blushed.

“Wow. I knew that pollock tasted a little funny this morning, but this is on another level.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, no, I’m real! I promise! Come and see!”

He gingerly walked over to her, and she was suddenly wreathed in the musky scent of carp, sand, sweat, ocean-kissed wood, and old rope. She found herself longing to melt into it, wanting it to surround her after a long, tiring day.

It wasn’t the sort of smell Merida would enjoy. She’d far prefer coconut and sea grape and banana and saltwater and plumeria.

To Rapunzel, though, it felt just right.

The boy hovered a hand over her scales. “Can I touch?”

Rapunzel nodded eagerly.

His fingers felt soft as they brushed over her, sending excited shivers up into her torso.

“If this is a dream, it’s the most real-feeling one I’ve had in a while,” he admitted. “Never thought those crazy deckhands at the docks were actually onto something. Seeing half-fish people splashing around underneath your boat does sound pretty far-fetched until you see it for yourself.”

He let out a wry laugh, and Rapunzel smiled at the ground. His laugh really sounded so much better up close.

The boy slid his hand off and looked up at her, and she realized his eyes were as brown as his hair. “It’s just…I’m out to sea all the time, and I’ve never seen a mermaid,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Where are you and all your friends hiding?”

Rapunzel frowned. “We hear bad things about a lot of the humans. The ones in the castle, especially. They run us over with their giant ships and fry us in oil for feasts and collect us like rare artifacts so they can gawk at us all day. It’s safer to make ourselves scarce.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know what goes on in there. They all seem like a bunch of entitled snobs, anyways. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with those jerks.” He shrugged nonchalantly before abruptly breaking into a wide smirk. “But I have to ask, then…if humans are bad news, why are you talking to me?”

“I’ve been watching you!” Rapunzel told him, beaming. “I see you on the beach and out on your fishing boat and up on the cliffs, and you just seem so nice and funny and handsome and interesting and thoughtful and smart and it looks like you take such good care of your little sister and—”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and Rapunzel’s hand shot to her mouth as she realized what all had slipped out.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she whimpered. “That probably came across so creepy. Gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that! I meant I’ve seen you around while I was doing my daily swims, nothing else, and I really wanted to meet you, and I didn’t—I wasn’t following you or anything, I promise. I just noticed you and you piqued my interest and I wanted to meet you. If that’s okay.”

She started to play with a long strand of blonde hair, looking at the human boy pleadingly.

Had she said too much? Too many stupid things? Was he going to run?

“Well.” He grinned, spreading his arms a little as if showing himself off. “Now you’ve met me. I’m Jack Overland.”

“Um…Rapunzel Corona.”

She bit her lip, not sure what to make of this human. He didn’t seem bothered by her stalking habits—albeit stalking habits only bred out of the warnings of her peers to never interact directly with the land folk.

Jack Overland nodded approvingly. “That’s a suitably fancy name.”

He trotted over and sat down on the rock next to her, crossing his legs. He rested a sharp, boyish chin on cupped hands, regarding her curiously.

“So you’re not going to like…lure me into the water and eat my heart out, are you?”

Rapunzel wrinkled her nose. “No! Why would I do that?”

“What about drowning me?” He tipped his head slightly to one side. “Or stabbing me with pointy shells? Any plans of that?”

She glared at him. “No! I think you’re nice! I would never!”

He broke into another smirk and let out a chuckle. “Listen, Crazy Old Larry’s always in the tavern rambling on and on about ‘siren songs leading ye cursed seafarers to certain doom.’ Granted, he’s usually six drinks in when I see him, and I think the cod he eats for breakfast has seen better days, but I still had to check.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdly dramatic voice he did for Crazy Old Larry.

“Lucky for you, I don’t have much interest in stabbings or human hearts,” she said. She laid back on the rock, grinning up at him as several locks of her long blonde hair slipped into the water behind her. “Hearts are way too chewy and sinewy for my taste, and too much blood squirting out everywhere makes the water smell awful. As for drowning…I mean, human bodies floating around is a great way to pollute everything.”

“Phew.” He smiled down at her, and her heart felt like it was crashing into her ribs harder than waves at high tide. “That’s a relief. I guess I’m safe.”

“Gotta say, though.” He shrugged. “Every possible human to break your taboo and talk to, and you choose the smelly, broke fisherman’s kid. I don’t get it.”

She grinned. “Well, you haven’t grabbed me and dragged me off to make your dinner with yet. Or tried to pull my scales out to make jewelry. So I say you’re doing pretty well.”

Jack fixed her with an impish look, and his hands started gliding toward her tail with fingers poised to yank. She lifted her tail and smacked him so hard he nearly fell into the water, and he burst out laughing.

“I think that thing’s strong enough to send me flying halfway across the cove,” he said. “Honestly I don’t know why your kind is so worried about humans. I’m pretty sure you could just pummel them into rocks if they pissed you off too much.”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe you’re just skin and bone.”

“Oh, you did not!” He swatted her arm, and she cackled.

A shrill voice rang out across the beach, and Rapunzel looked up to see the little brown-haired girl from earlier bounding toward them.

Jack sighed. “You’d better go. My sister Emma’s got the biggest mouth in town, and I don’t trust her not to tell everyone she knows about you.”

“Okay.” Rapunzel felt a slight pang of disappointment as she let herself slip into the water. She peeked up her head above the waves and gave him a small smile. “Well, it was nice to finally meet you.”

He met her eyes, gaze suddenly sad. “Will I see you again?”

She beamed at him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Rapunzel vanished into the waves just as Emma finished her trek down the beach.

***

And so, after that day, Jack and Rapunzel started to meet. Secretly, atop flat ocean stones hidden by forests of jabbing, pointed rocks and towering sea cliffs, but as often as they could nonetheless.

Rapunzel wondered at first if it was foolish, going to see one of the folk who could drag her away from the sea forever if he committed to it. It didn’t take long for her to gather that such an undertaking was far more work than someone like Jack was willing to put in. He had no interest in building up the muscle mass needed to carry a struggling mermaid into town and pawn her off for a handsome profit. Hauling ropes and fishnets around could only make you so strong, and carrying a being as big as you were, especially an unwilling one, was another matter entirely.

Aside from that, he seemed a kindhearted and easygoing sort, despite his occasionally rude sense of humor. He was always talking about his sister Emma, and how he would do anything for her. With a father constantly out to sea and a mother with seemingly never-ending seamstress work, Jack had practically raised Emma himself. She was the light of his life, and he didn’t know what he’d do if anything ever happened to her.

Jack was more than happy to bring her various artifacts from the human world. Dishware, cooking pans, corkscrews, burned firewood (the concept of using mildly-chaotic concentrated heat to make food crispier and tastier was truly fascinating to Rapunzel), maps of the world, pieces of rope, wooden sticks that were rounded at one end and had strings that made beautiful music if you pulled them. Pieces of old net, although he warned her to be careful with them as they were pretty “tangly.” Candlesticks that somehow managed to capture the very fire she found so strange and fascinating, even if it was only tiny bits of it. Ticking numbered devices that could apparently track the passage of time one 24th of a day at a time. Branching bones that had once been attached to the head of some great land beast, one that lived deep in sprawling clusters of trees. Glittery silver sheets that were somehow even more reflective than water itself.

Anything he was willing to part with she snuck down to the merkingdom, sliding it under her bed behind the conch and turtle shells she had collected over the years. Sometimes when she lay down to sleep at night, she held one of the assortment of objects close. It was a way to feel like she could keep the cove—and Jack—with her, even when they were far away.

One time, after the sun had gone down, he showed up with a metal-and-glass box with a soft ball of light inside, and said it was called a “lantern.” She loved them more than anything else in the world. She loved everything he showed her.

He brought her land food, too—more than she could have imagined existed. Mackerel seared over fire, delicious like nothing she had ever tasted. Boiled crab drenched in melted butter and herbs. Milk and cream and cheese and butter on bread. A roast, exotic meat called “chicken” made from a strange land bird. Raspberries and roast chestnuts and apples and hazelnuts and pears and other wild things Jack scrounged up in the woods outside of town. Once he even managed to steal her a piece of lavender cake from a castle courtyard party, disguising himself as a servant long enough to grab the elegant pastry and run.

In return, she brought him whatever treasures she could from the sea. Seashells in baby blue and candy pink, pieces of coral, sea stars, shiny abalone shells, glittering shed scales, the most elegant pearls she could find. It never felt like enough to thank him for all that he’d showed her, but it was the best she could do.

She couldn’t say how long they spent together, splashing around and building sandcastles and chasing each other through the cove and talking about how different the world was above and below the water. It never felt like long enough. Jack would have to go and make sure Emma wasn’t getting into too much trouble unattended, or Rapunzel would have to go before her parents got suspicious.

As the months went by, Rapunzel’s wariness dissolved. Any initial fears she had of him hauling her home like giant fishing trophy were gone, replaced by the warm comfort left after spending time with someone she’d known her whole life.

At least, it felt like she had known him her whole life.

She even found herself telling Jack about her strangest quality. Her magical golden hair, unusual even for mermaids, was the envy of the kingdom. Her mother had eaten a soup made from an enchanted undersea flower, said to have sprouted all the way from the center of the earth itself. The healing powers of the flower had passed into Rapunzel, and now she could cure any disease and close any wound with a quick song.

Ironically, Rapunzel had the exact opposite of whatever “siren call of death” Jack had been warned about.

Nonetheless, Jack wasn’t enamored with her powers. He wasn’t always asking her to sing for him so he could see the golden glow, or wrapping her hair around cuts and bruises and nagging her to make them vanish. To him, it was just another part of the ethereal world of merfolk—not any more or less amazing than her having a tail or being able to breathe underwater.

It was refreshing, really, being seen as something other than a quick bottle of medicine. Her parents praised her endlessly for her abilities, and how much good she did with them, but it still always made her feel…other. Like most who saw her were more interested in staring in awe at the sunshine trail of hair that flowed behind her than actually knowing her.

Jack wasn’t like that. Just a couple magic songs and a couple bouts of glowing hair, and he got back to unraveling the rest of her being.

She remembered the first time he’d crept up behind her in the water and hugged her waist, nearly giving her the scare of her life. He burst out laughing, but he didn’t let go.

She found she didn’t want him to.

He murmured in her ear asking if she could take him swimming, his voice a pleading whine. It was nigh impossible to say no.

And so they took to him lying on her back with his arms locked around her waist, and she’d zoom up and down the coastline while he whooped and cheered. They stayed beneath the cliffs, keeping to places so rocky and treacherous that no human or merfolk would dare venture there, but Rapunzel found she never worried about getting hurt.

Jack brought something brave out of her.

It was more tiring than swimming alone, but Rapunzel found herself looking forward to streaking through the water with him. She liked the tight feel of his arms around her.

Rapunzel grew to love the cove, the sprawling view of the cliffs and the beach. She lamented that she could never remember the beauty of it exactly as it was, no matter how often she came. She wished there was a way to keep it with her all the time, not just in her fickle memory. She mentioned this to Jack at one point, not missing the way his eyes lit up conspiratorially as she said it.

The next day, Jack brought a thick wooden stick on three legs, a thin white board, several long twigs with fur on the end, and a little tray filled with gooey, colored smudges. He said humans used something called “painting” to capture things they saw and keep them with them.

Rapunzel painted the cove. The picture was rough, and crude, and looked more like a collection of oddly-shaped blobs than anything, but it was hers. They let it dry before hiding it away among some of the craggier rocks, making sure it was far out of sight. Jack promised to check up on it every so often, when Rapunzel couldn’t come out to see him.

Then one day, Rapunzel came home to find her parents floating above the front lawn and glaring at her, all the contents of the underside of her bed spread across the eelgrass.

Her treasures were smashed to pieces in front of her. Her father told her neither humans nor their dangerous devices could be trusted, and no part of the world on land had a place in their kingdom. He wanted her to forget the human world completely—and if that meant destroying every last remnant she could possibly hold onto, then so be it.

Humans were perilous and cruel creatures, Frederick told her. The only true guarantee he had of keeping her completely safe from them was to make sure she never went near one again.

In short, she was forbidden from ever seeing Jack again. One of her parents always seemed to have a watchful, critical eye on her, as if daring her to try to return to the cove. She waited and waited for an opportunity to sneak away, but it never seemed to come.

She didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

[melliflovs]

Beautiful Mess - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Angst, longing, kinda sad

Summary: Reader comes to terms with her feelings after being faced with her emotions once she sees Gojo again for their monthly battle, even if it gets interrupted.

A/N: I didn't check this for errors cause my computers about to die but I wanted to post this for you guys!

Requests open!

In truth he found you incredible, but would he ever admit it? No. Of course not.

It was moments like this, the stars shining down on you and the wind blowing through your hair that made Gojo pause. He wished things could be different.

You could've been teaching alongside him, or anything else from the life you chose. He frowned to himself. Were you really happy?

At least twenty curses surrounded you. The dark purple aura slowly beginning to cover you from his view as you laughed in the distance. He just wanted a moment more to watch you before the inevitable battle before the two of you.

You knew he was there, close enough to see but too far away to touch. For now, you'd continue on as you were, playfully petting a curse on its head. It resembled a dog and chose to stay by your side, granted it looked and smelled horrendous but you'd take what you could get. They milled about you, waiting for their commands. They were all grade 3 curses, childs play for people like Gojo - people like you. But they weren't supposed to be strong, they were just to garner attention.

After the purple fog fully enveloped you Gojo knew it was time. You stood high on the tallest skyscraper, the clouds within reach.

You always thought Gojo was incredible. Irresistible looks, unbeatable strength, and a massive ego. Time spent with him was cherished, even if it meant small tricks and claims to get his attention but he never failed to deliver.

You heard his footsteps approach slowly, with your back turned the curses began to howl. A small smile tugged on the edges of your lips but you held it back. Slowly you turned to face him.

"Come with me." He said, Gojo had his hands in his pocket with a blindfold covering his eyes. You wondered if you'd ever be able to see them again.

"Traded out the glasses, huh?" You teased, "Do the students find it more intimidating." Sparks lit up your eyes as power began to surge through you.

Gojo smirked and flexed his muscles at you "I was always intimidating, just thought the blindfold added more flare."

He wished they'd stop sending him, the elders always too quick to call upon him once they knew you were involved. They started questioning why the job was never 'finished' they wanted you dead. You were the villain in this story, the creator of curses and sorrow. But how could someone so beautiful be so destructive? It didn't make sense to him.

The first time you'd met Gojo you were both 16. He was a student at the time, sent to a school to take down a low-level curse. It was a teaching method of his Sensei's to send his students alone on smaller tasks - one he ultimately ended up using himself. Instead, he found you surrounded in a purple haze curled into a ball.

You were so small at the time, anxious and afraid with tears streaming down your face. Gojo could feel the power inside you, radiating from your fragile body. It brought him to his knees in front of you. It was the first time you'd ever seen his eyes, hair hanging out in front of his face. He reached out to you, mesmerized by you.

He'd never encountered power like his before, different from his yet so similar in strength. Gojo was so distracted by you that he ignored the scattered limbs of what used to be your fellow classmates.

When he looked at you he was amazed, every single time. But you'd grown now, no longer the scared little girl who didn't know who or what you were. But you knew now. Years of hating yourself for what you were born as, what you'd accidentally do to people. Eventually, you embraced it.

In the years that you'd been actively on Gojo's radar, no one had narrowed down what you were. They knew you were human, a child abandoned and forced into foster care. From what he could tell your emotions were so strong that the smallest offense could make the curses in the surrounding 10 miles stronger and multiply them. You were no longer a grade 3 curse. You were special grade, a girl with explosive feelings that were considered to be on the same level as Sukuna.

You still didn't compare to Gojo though.

"Come with me, (y/n)" He repeated, his eyes desperate under the blindfold. He wondered if she could tell how much he wished she would listen to him.

She shook her head lightly, lowering her head to the ground. "You know I can't do that Satoru."

He nodded in response, he knew she was right. They'd execute her if she followed him back to the school. In a way (y/n) reminded him as Yuji, the elders were cowards whatever they couldn't understand they eliminated. Eventually, they'd meet the same unfortunate fate. Gojo wouldn't be able to protect either of them.

Gojo was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of a single snap. Looking up he watched as all the curses surrounding her dive off the skyscraper and into the city set loose to wreak havoc. The dog-shaped curse stayed, wagging its crooked tailback and forth.

"Good," He teased, "Was starting to get a bit crowded up here."

The purple haze had almost completely disappeared from the rooftop once the curses left. You took a deep breath, "I'm not ready yet, Gojo. Ten minutes."

He jokingly checked his bare wrist as if looking at a watch "Fine" He pouted "But I'm counting."

You gave him a weak smile, walking over to the edge of the roof and sitting down, letting your legs hang over the edge. You'd be lying if you said looking down didn't make you feel sick, you were at least 100 stories above ground. But the lights were so pretty, the glow of all of them lit up the night, reflecting in your eyes. You felt his presence approach you, standing behind you as you sat.

"Why does it have to be this way?" You whispered, it was so quiet he might not have been able to hear you. It would've probably been for the best if he hadn't.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on your head, giving your hair a soft pat. He made you feel so little, so small in comparison. Just like the day you met. "Because life is unfair to powerful people."

You hummed at his response, "I wish things were different." You tilted your head up, looking at him through your lashes, hair falling in your face. "I wish we weren't such a mess."

"At least we're a beautiful mess." He said grinning down at you.

"I miss your eyes Gojo, why cover them like that all the time?" You asked, still staring at the dark blindfold. You could only imagine what shade of blue hid behind it.

"Decided not everyone should have the privilege to see these sparklers." The smile on his face grew as he said this, quirking his head to the side.

"Can I see them?" The more time you spent in his presence the calmer you felt. Gradually you felt the weight of your powers lift off your shoulder. A calm smile never had any trouble settling on your face whenever you were around him. It was hard to admit, even to yourself, but looking at his shining smile for the first time in months made you realize you'd missed him. "Please Gojo."

His grin faded into a soft smile. Nodding his head, Gojo reached up and began to untie the knot holding the blindfold.

"I think it's been ten minutes, Satoru. What do you think?" The voice made the two of you jump, Gojo's hands dropping away from the halfway untied covering. "Maybe you just got distracted with" He waved his hand around distastefully "This."

"Leave. Now." Gojo whispered, just low enough that the new man wouldn't be able to hear him. He seemed afraid, not of the man but of what would happen if any of his higher-ups found out about the two of you - whatever you were, even if you didn't know yourselves.

He stalked over the man, who was dressed impeccably in a white button-down. He held a wooden paddle tightly in his hand and pushed up his glasses as Gojo walked up to him.

"Look, Nanami, it's not what you think." He said holding up his hands defensively. Realistically he didn't know if his colleague would even believe any lie he could up of in time. Gojo tried to straighten himself out. Putting on his signature smirk, "You know how I get around the ladies. They just can't help themselves."

Nanami let out a sigh, looking at his friend with pity. "The way she looks at you... it's like she'd be willing to take a bullet for you." It wasn't normal the way you looked at Gojo. Like he was the sun and you were a flower stuck in the shade. "And I'm sure under that ridiculous blindfold you were looking at her like that too."

Gojo stayed quiet, the fake smirk dropping from his face. The silence hovered for a moment, making his chest fill with dread as Nanami thought it over in his head.

Suddenly he turned, beginning to walk towards the exit. "Come on, let's go."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Gojo asked as he followed his coworker. He wrung his hands nervously together.

"No."

He let out a sigh of relief. A small smile began to tug at his lips, he was grateful to the blonde, not many people he knew would risk helping him like this. Subtly he looked over his shoulder.

Thankfully you were already gone, thankfully you were safe. At least for the time being. As he stepped towards the stairwell to make his way down the skyscraper, Gojo realized one thing:

You never got to see his eyes.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

Hi! how about one where Levi and his fem s/o sleep together for the first time and reader finds out that Levi sleep talking about how much he loves her and that he's very lucky to have her in his life. The next morning when they wake up reader teases him about it and he's very embarassed? Thank you so much, I’m sorry for my bad English. I love you❤️

A/N: Hello anon! 💕Thank you so much for requesting, this idea just had my heart melting and I loved it because I sleep talk all the time (when I actually manage to sleep) so it was fun to write based on experience (curtesy of my sis & friends telling me about my sleep talk endeavors). I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get it out to you, my ADHD has been really out of control lately. I really struggle with it sometimes, so I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. I’ve also been having horrible migraines on and off for the past couple days so that’s what the beginning of the story was inspired by 😅. Thank you so much for your patience, I really appreciate it. Also your english is absolutely fine, love! I hope this is what you were looking for! ❤️

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Ghost on the Shore” By: Lord Huron” 🐉

~~~

🔥Woman of My Dreams 🔥

(Y/N) knew she was supposed to be working, helping Captain Levi with his massive load of paperwork, but she couldn’t focus for the life of her, too distracted by the pained look on her captain’s face. He must’ve felt her watching him, because he glanced up at her, his eyes distant and slightly glazed but narrowed, silently telling her to get back to work. She scowled at him and turned her gaze back to the stack of proposals in her lap, chewing on the end of her pen as she attempted to refocus on the words in front of her. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept straying back to the raven-haired man at his desk, his occasional grunts and annoyed sighs alerting her to his struggle.

(Y/N) was always in awe of her boyfriend’s work ethic, constantly left wondering how someone with so much stress could still manage to push forward. He never seemed to fail at anything he tried, and he constantly pushed his mind and body to the limits, foregoing the need for rest and food in favor of getting everything done in one night. But while that part of her would always be proud of him and his ability to do so much, another part of her hated it. She hated how he’d sacrifice his own health for the sake of others, pushing himself until his body nearly shut down. Tonight, was one of those nights.

She knew Levi had a horrendous migraine. He was usually prone to the headaches that seemed to crack the skull open, but this one seemed particularly awful. He was constantly massaging his forehead and his eyes were unfocused and filled with pain. Tiny whimpers and groans would occasionally escape him, showing her just how much it was affecting him. Levi was usually able to push through the pain and suffer in silence, but this migraine of his seemed intent on making him as miserable as possible. He hadn’t finished more than two pages of work since they had started, and it was clear he was nearing his breaking point.

Knowing his preference for powering through the pain, (Y/N) usually left him to his own devices when he had a migraine like this, trying to make his life easier in more subtle ways like bringing him tea and helping him with more paperwork than usual, but this time, she refused to ignore it. It was clear he was too stubborn to admit he needed to rest and someone had to look after him and make sure he didn’t kill himself.

Setting the remaining reports off to the side, (Y/N) stood from his couch and made her way over to her lover. Before he could react, (Y/N) leaned over and snatched the pen he held from his grasp, throwing it behind her so it could land randomly somewhere in the office.

“(Y/N)! What the hell?” Levi snapped, his voice raspy and filled with exhaustion.

“I’m tired of watching you work yourself to the bone. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Levi shook his head, “(Y/N), I’m fine.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, “Like hell you are. Now, stop being stubborn and step away from the desk.”

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, (Y/N),” Levi said darkly with a huff. “I am still your captain.”

“Well you won’t be anymore if you overwork yourself to death,” (Y/N) retorted. “And don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m your girlfriend, which means it’s my job to worry about your wellbeing, especially if you refuse to do it yourself.”

Levi glared at her, but he was secretly touched by her sentiment. It had taken him a while to get used to the feeling of being loved and cared for, but once he had, he had grown greedy for it. He never showed it, still uncomfortable at the idea of being vulnerable around others, even his own lover, but he would always love how she doted on him, how she made him feel like he was worth something. That if he died, he wouldn’t just be mourned because humanity had lost its strongest soldier. He would be missed, remembered for the man he was rather than just how society had painted him to be. His eyes roved over her usually kind face, now twisted into a frown as she glared right back at him, refusing to back down without getting him the rest he needed. He honestly didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, he knew she was right, but he still struggled to accept her help, almost feeling weak for succumbing to something as trivial as a migraine.

As if she could read his mind, her gaze softened and she let out a gentle sigh. Moving around his desk to stand behind him, she leaned down and laid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing and massaging the muscles with her firm fingers. Levi was embarrassed by how quickly he reacted to her touch, immediately leaning back into her grip. His head lolled against the back of his chair and his eyes closed in bliss, temporarily ignoring the blistering pain in his head.

“Feel good?”

Levi hummed.

“See? Accepting help doesn’t make you any less of a man. Getting the rest and relaxation your body needs doesn’t make you weak by any means. Everyone needs the proper energy to take care of themselves, you especially. You’re too important to lose, especially to something as pointless as self neglect. So please stop working tonight, for me.”

Levi was silent for a moment, fighting with himself over the urge to finish his work anyway or fall victim once again to your undeniable charms as well as the insistent demands of his own body. Just as he was about to open his mouth, ready to attempt one last refute, a fresh wave of pain washed over him, making him gasp. A hand flew to his head, his teeth gritted in pain as his very skull seemed to throb. Through the haze, he vaguely felt (Y/N)’s hands tighten on his shoulders and knew there was no way he was going to get out of this. Once she had made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.

For once, Levi didn’t fight it when (Y/N) guided him to stand from his chair, biting his tongue to keep from gasping in pain as the sudden movement made his head split. He stumbled and started to fall, only to be caught by his lover, the strong woman bearing his entire weight as if he were nothing but a feather. A light blush made its way to his cheeks despite the pain that was starting to make his vision blur. He  knew he shouldn’t be shocked, she was in his Special Operations squad for a reason, but she never failed to impress him with her unexpected strength. (Y/N) walked slowly and carefully, making sure to avoid jostling him as she made her way to his bedroom. Nudging the door open, (Y/N) picked her way over to his bedside and pulled the sheets back before gently easing him onto the mattress, ignoring his protests when she began stripping him of his uniform.

His blush got a little darker as she worked on removing his clothes. Their relationship wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been very long either, and they still hadn’t crossed the boundary of physical intimacy yet. He knew she had no ill intent, but it still didn’t stop him from feeling relatively shy at the thought of her seeing him without his uniform.

(Y/N) felt butterflies in her stomach with each article she removed, but she shoved down her embarrassment and awe at his breathtaking form and focused on making him as comfortable as possible. She stopped once he was finally stripped to his boxers and neatly folded his uniform to place on the lone chair in the corner of his room, knowing it would bother him all night if it was thrown around half-hazardly.

Levi’s soft groan of pain brought her back to his bedside, and she quickly shimmied the blankets out from under his legs so she could throw them over his body, taking the extra time to tuck him in as comfortably as possible. As soon as he was nestled beneath the soft blankets, (Y/N) moved to his bathroom to get him some water, holding the glass to his lips for a few sips to help lessen some of the pressure in his head. Finally, she left to grab a small bucket to place beside him just in case he had to vomit in the middle of the night, knowing it might be difficult for him to reach the bathroom if he was dizzy and disoriented.

Placing her hands on her hips, (Y/N) surveyed her work, nodding once she was satisfied with his set up. Flashing him a sweet smile, (Y/N) turned for his bedroom door, her eyes soft and full of love as she watched him.

“Goodnight, Levi, I hope you feel better,” She said, opening the door and stepping through it.

“(Y/N).”

(Y/N) paused, her hand on the edge of the door as she peered back around to look at him, “Yes?”

“Stay with me. Please?” Levi asked, the blush on his cheeks getting even darker as he averted his gaze.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. She and Levi had been dating for nearly six months and yet he had never asked her something like this. She knew they were going at a slow pace, she knew Levi struggled with expressing his emotions, but she had always been content to go at whatever pace he was comfortable with, knowing he was still very new to the idea of a relationship. It had taken him several weeks for him to even get to the point of treating her differently than the other soldiers on his squad. 

She had never doubted his love for her, even when her friends had seemed skeptical in the beginning. She could see it in his eyes, but it had taken him a long time to be able to express those hidden feelings physically and vocally. She didn’t mind, she was fine with being patient and had waited for him to come to her, allowing him to have the time he needed to find his words and indulge in discovering his own love language. It was fun in a way, a little adventure between the two of them. It made every new sign of affection from him mean so much more than normal; every head pat, every kiss, every hug, making her feel as if she had just conquered the world.

It was because of those experiences that she was able to understand the importance of this moment. Her shy, reclusive, severely touch-starved boyfriend asking her to share his bed with him, exposing that vulnerability to her, albeit innocently, was a huge step in a new direction for him.

The thought made her nervous, not wanting to impose on his personal space or make him uncomfortable with her, but it also filled her with immense pride. He trusted her and only her to be around him when he was at his most vulnerable.

Swallowing her anxiety, (Y/N) nodded and shut the door again. Picking her way across the room, she quietly maneuvered her way to his bedside and slid beneath the covers beside him, trying to make as little noise and movement as possible to avoid causing more pain to his head.

Levi grunted a little as he shifted onto his side, facing away from her while she reached over to the bedside table to diffuse the lantern flame, bathing the room in darkness. Levi felt (Y/N) shift until she was laying on her side, facing his broad back, the covers pulled up to her shoulders.

“Goodnight Levi,” (Y/N) murmured.

“Mmm, goodnight,” Levi muttered, the pain in his head coupled with her soothing presence making him drowsier than normal.

(Y/N) smiled when she felt Levi fall asleep, his light snores and gentle breathing filling the otherwise silent air. She was glad he was finally getting some rest, but she knew she would be up for a while. She had had insomnia for as long as she could remember and knew it would be a long time before her brain would shut up long enough for her to get some rest. It was that shared trait between her and the Captain that had allowed her to get close to him in the first place, late night talks with tea leading to moonlit confessions on the roof of their headquarters.

(Y/N)’s smile widened at the memory, and how uncharacteristically nervous the normally stoic Captain had been when he had turned to her that fateful night and practically spat his feelings at her. She knew how hard it had been for him to admit them to her, and she had a small inclination to say that Erwin and Hanji may have been the ones to force him to do it, but that just made the memory all the more special to her. It showed her that he really did care for her, that he was willing to lower his carefully structured walls and bare his battered heart for her alone. It was why it didn’t bother her that he didn’t shower her with compliments. It was why she was never disheartened by his lack of physical or vocal affection. 

She’d be lying if she claimed she didn’t get a little lonely sometimes, and she couldn’t say she didn’t sometimes wish he could call her beautiful without hesitation, but she didn’t let it get to her. She loved him, and she knew he  loved her, so she’d wait for however long it took for him to grow comfortable around her, even if that meant she had to reel back her own feelings for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) was trying to coax sleep to take her when a sudden quiet murmur made her open them again. She waited, wondering if she had imagined the noise, when she suddenly heard it again. It was soft, and very quiet, but it was no doubt the voice of her lover, muttering something. She knew there was no way he was talking to her, he would’ve spoken louder than that if he was. 

The thought made her stifle a surprised giggle as she suddenly realized that Levi was talking in his sleep. She knew he’d be embarrassed if he found out she was listening, but she couldn’t help herself, her ears straining to try to catch some of the words. Silence settled over the room once more for a moment, nothing but the distant sound of the wind blowing outside filling the air, but soon enough, the murmurs started back up again, more recognizable words spilling from his lips the longer he talked to himself.

“No…, that’s not…mmm.”

“S-Stop that!”

“Mmph, no… I’m not...”

(Y/N) stifled another laugh as Levi started getting feisty in his sleep, turning to face her with a slight frown marring his features. His eyes were still firmly shut, confirming that he was indeed sleep talking, but the argument he was having with some unknown person in his head seemed to only be getting more intense.

“That’s not true!” Levi suddenly shouted, his voice raspy and muffled by his pillow.

“What’s not true, Levi?” (Y/N) whispered, deciding to tease him a bit. She knew he would probably be annoyed later, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, she wasn’t about to pass it up.

“That’s not true.” Levi said again, his voice lowering in volume but hardening in tone, “Of course I show affection!”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her mouth and bit her knuckle, trying to keep her giggles from waking him up, “Oh, really? When do you usually show affection?”

Levi’s frown deepened and his jaw tightened, “I show affection when I’m with (Y/N).”

(Y/N) blinked, not expecting her name to come up in this midnight conversation. Lowering her hand from her lips, (Y/N) sat up to rest on her elbows, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at her sleeping lover.

“How do you show (Y/N) affection?” she asked, curious to see what he would say.

Levi let out a quiet, defeated sigh, his frown disappearing into an expression that looked unexpectedly like guilt.

“Listen, Hanji, I…” Levi trailed off for a while, the air thick with (Y/N)’s curiosity. So, it was Hanji he was talking to in whatever dream he was having. The thought spiked her curiosity even further, making her heart pound in her chest. It wasn’t uncommon that Levi would be annoyed with Hanji, so the argument at the beginning of his dream made sense, but he almost never talked about his relationship with anyone but Erwin, not trusting the energetic scientist to keep from teasing him and spreading rumors about them. She knew they were together of course, that was impossible to hide from her, but he always denied her details whenever she asked.

“Shit… I… I can’t believe I’m about to do this…” Levi muttered, a slight scowl reappearing on his features.

“Do what?” (Y/N) whispered.

Levi took a deep breath, his fingers curling around the edge of the sheets to squeeze in his fist, as if he was being forced to do something unpleasant, “Hanji, I need your help.”

(Y/N) had to fight to hold back a genuinely shocked gasp. Even when he was just dreaming, she had never imagined in her entire life that she would hear that sentence come out of his mouth. She suddenly wondered if she was the one dreaming, and this was just some elaborate scene her brain had made up.

“Um, sure, Levi, what do you need help with?”

A deep breath rattled from the depths of his chest, “How do I... show (Y/N) proper affection?”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked breathlessly.

Levi grunted in his sleep, his knees rising beneath the sheets to curl against his stomach. “Do I really have to explain it, Hanji?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, you idiot,” Levi grumbled, “I just… I just don’t know how to show her how much she means to me. I’m so fucking lucky to have her. She’s been so patient, so amazing, never complaining about my inability to be romantic, but I’m tired of being unable to be there for her. I’m tired of looking around at the other couples around us and seeing how loving they are, only to know that I can’t do the same for her. I’ve had enough of treating her like a normal cadet on my squad. She deserves so much more than that, she is so much more than that. She shows me every single day that I am loved and cared for, and it makes me sick that I struggle to do the same.”

(Y/N) had her hand back over her mouth again, this time to stifle her sobs instead of her chuckles. Her eyes were lined with silver as she gazed down at the love of her life, her heart thundering pleasantly in her chest. While it was true that she had never had a problem with waiting for him to get more comfortable with her, she couldn’t deny the feelings of elation she was feeling with every word that poured from his mouth. It didn’t matter that he was asleep, it didn’t matter that he didn’t even know he was talking to her. All that mattered was that he was finally saying the things she had secretly burned to hear for months.

Levi sighed, “I just love her so damn much. She’s the woman of my dreams, and I don’t think I can go one more day without her knowing that…”

Swallowing the sob that threatened to crawl past her lips, (Y/N) brushed his raven bangs to the side and leaned down to give him a sweet kiss on the forehead.

“Believe me, Levi. She knows.”

The small smile that appeared on his face made it impossible for (Y/N) to hold her tears back this time, the warm, salty liquid sliding down her cheeks to land with soft taps on her pillow. Despite the fact that his eyes were still closed, (Y/N) gave him a watery smile of her own and reached over to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to his warm chest and curling into his body.

“I love you too, Levi,” she murmured before closing her eyes, the smile still on her face as she fell asleep easily for the first time in years.

____________________

Levi could feel himself slowly being dragged back into consciousness, but for the first time since he was a little boy, he didn’t want to wake up to the slightly more bearable hell of the day. Usually, what little sleep he got was riddled with nightmares, screams of his comrades as they either begged him to save them or blamed him for their early deaths. He was usually plagued with dark, bloody thoughts and visuals that made him wake in a cold sweat, his stomach swirling so violently he was occasionally reduced to emptying the remnants of his dinner in the middle of the night. He never enjoyed being tired or facing the titans day after day, but at least the real world kept him busy with training and paperwork, keeping his demons at bay.

But today felt different. He felt warm, comfortable, as if the sun’s rays were cuddling him in a warm nest. He felt content and unafraid of closing his eyes for the first time in years. A part of him was suspicious of the change, tempted to open his eyes and find out what was making him feel so comfortable, but the bigger part of him didn’t want to leave this unexpected bliss so soon, afraid that opening his eyes would chase away the feeling before he could truly relish in it.

He sighed through his nose, nuzzling his pillow in an attempt to coax his mind back into the warm embrace of sleep when a sudden movement against his bare chest made his eyes snap open, ready to rip someone to shreds. His stinging words immediately died on his tongue when his silver gaze snapped to the (h/c) haired lump nestled against his skin. Ah, that explained why he had slept so well, even with a migraine, which had thankfully disappeared overnight.

Levi couldn’t help the smile that curled at the edges of his lips, the look in his eyes softening as he watched his love sleep against him. An innocent, giddy sense of wonder filled him at the sight of her, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never had a woman fall asleep against him before, many people finding him too cold and standoffish to find comfort in him. But here she was, the most gorgeous woman in the world, cuddled up against him as if he were a warm pillow, her hair splayed out over his chest like tangled silk.

She was so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t get her out of his head. The past few months had been the best he had ever had, his life now full of love and happiness and soft laughter. As he stared at her, his heart about to burst out of his chest, Levi couldn’t help but reach out to her, his fingers brushing her cheeks ever so softly, making his skin tingle with how soft she was.

His hand immediately drew back when she scrunched her nose cutely, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth opened in a wide yawn. A part of him felt sorry for waking her, but as she opened her glittering (e/c) eyes to look up at him, the other part of him felt more satisfied at seeing her cute expression.

“Good morning,” (Y/N) mumbled, her sleepy, raspy voice sending a jolt of something electric down his spine.

“Morning,” Levi said, unaware that his own deep, husky morning voice was making (Y/N)’s stomach flutter with early morning butterflies.

“Sleep well?” (Y/N) asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Levi said, moving his arms from around her body so he could stretch them above his head with a satisfying crack.

“It sure sounded like it.”

Her comment made him pause and glance at her, the mischievous look in her eye making a wave of nervousness course through him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) purred, causing his anxiety to spike, “I was just unaware that you talk in your sleep.”

Levi froze. He talked in his sleep!? He didn’t know he did that! He supposed it was normal for him to not remember the event, and he had never slept beside another person in his life, aside from his mother when he was a toddler, so it made sense that he had been unaware of this unexpected habit, but that didn’t erase the anxiety that swirled in his gut.

“O-Oh?” Levi asked softly, cursing his stutter.

“Mm hm,” (Y/N) said, her smile only widening as she watched his reaction, her eyes glittering playfully.

“Um, what did I say? It better not have been something stupid,” Levi muttered, trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. He almost didn’t want to know, but with the way she was smiling at him, it looked as if he had said some revealing things.

“Well, you were arguing with Hanji for most of it,” (Y/N) said, watching with a deviant smile as her boyfriend relaxed, an obvious expression of relief on his face.

“Tch, I do that when I’m awake, idiot.”

“You also said you were head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger.”

(Y/N) couldn’t hold back her laugh when Levi started choking on his own breath, his sharp inhale of shock getting caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) said with a cackle, smirking even more at the dirty glare he threw her as he coughed, “It was a joke, I promise!”

“Fucking hell, brat…” Levi muttered, covering his face with his arm.

“You did call me the woman of your dreams, though,” (Y/N) said quietly once her giggles had subsided, a light blush dusting her cheeks despite herself as she recalled the wonderful memory.

Levi didn’t choke this time, but his eyes did go wide, his lips parting in shock. He knew she was being serious. Immediately, Levi was filled with a confusing blend of joy and horror, happiness that he had finally gotten the chance to tell her his true feelings about her, even in sleep, and horror that she had found out in the way she did, while he was unconscious and having an argument with Four Eyes about god knows what. Levi couldn’t fight the blush that rose to his cheeks, his skin stained red as embarrassment washed over him.

He didn’t know what to say. He was floundering, trying to think of something, anything to either confirm his sentiment or try to divert the conversation, but nothing was coming to mind. His brain was blank, nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears overwhelming his senses. Suddenly, a soft hand grasped his wrist, gently tugging on his arm until he had removed it from covering the silver eyes she loved so much. Leaning over him, her eyes were glazed with unshed tears as she locked her gaze with his, showing him all of the emotions she couldn’t put into words before leaning down to kiss him.

He unintentionally let out a groan when her lips met his, his tongue immediately reaching out to dance with hers as they tasted each other, slow and sweet and loving. When they finally parted, both of them gasping for breath and smiling as if they had just found the way to world peace, Levi saw that a few tears had escaped to stain (Y/N)’s cheeks.

“I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you for you and all of your little quirks, and I always will.”

Levi felt himself get choked up, but he swallowed past the lump in his throat, focused on making the goddess in his arms feel the same way she made him feel.

“I l-love you too, (Y/N), y-you really are the woman of my d-dreams.”

Levi hated that he stuttered, but he let out a sigh of relief as he finally managed to push the words past his lips. (Y/N) choked out a joyful sob as pride filled her chest like a roaring lion, making her skin glow as if she were something from a fairytale, taking Levi’s breath away. Sitting up, Levi met her half way for another soul-searing kiss, his heart calling out her name as he allowed himself to relax with the kiss, melting into her affection as if he were dipping into a warm sauna, his heart throbbing for the woman who was his entire world.

[harry-writings]

Hurt You Just Before You Go

- The one where Y/n picks a date for her divorce with Harry

Part 1

Masterlist

-

“You know what we should do?” 

It was the third night of their honeymoon and they had just got done with a particularly passionate round of love making — leaving them bare and breathless upon the heart-shaped bed, illuminating in the moon’s wake, burning in their desire. 

“Hmm... what, baby?” Harry hummed against the crook of Y/n’s neck — which still smelled like cherry vanilla despite his lips making a home out of it not just thirty minutes prior — pulling her body closer to his because he longed for her even when she was as close as could be.

“When your contract is over and it’s just you and me… we should go somewhere — somewhere far away from everything we’ve ever known, somewhere nobody else knows.”

Just the sound of it made Harry’s heart wither and clench, his bones shiver, his muscles ache with temptation because he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted more than Y/n to consume his life whole — leave behind the life he’d made for himself because none of it meant half as much as she did. 

“We could be those people who just up and leave; raise a family, adopt a kitten or two, drink wine on a hammock while the kids are asleep.”

And he was convinced Y/n shared all the same visions he had — all the same hopes and all the same dreams. Because when he pictured his life after his fame faded to nothing but a distant memory, all he saw was her — there was nothing else or nobody else, just her. 

But to know he couldn’t have that for another five years made his heart heavy in his chest. 

“Don’t tempt me. Please, don’t tempt me.” He begged with his hungry lips — sprawling kisses along her body, anywhere they could touch. “Would do it right this second if I could. Would give everything up to just have you.” 

Y/n would kill for it, would sacrifice anything and everything to spend the rest of her life exactly how she was spending it then — the world unturning as she lay helplessly in her husband’s arms. 

But it couldn’t always stop for them no matter how badly they wanted it to. Life had to move on, they just hoped they could keep up with it.

“But you’ve got a whole lot of love from a whole lot of people. The world would crumble without you, Harry Styles.” 

“Let it.” He asserted without hesitation, his lips against her inner thigh, spreading her open, all for him. “Mine would crumble without you.”

-

“Our anniversary?” 

Y/n can hardly believe the sight in front of her. 

She had seen Harry at all his darkest and most vulnerable moments — seen him through all his breakdowns, all his blackouts, all his downfalls — but nothing compares to the broken mess of a man standing at her front door trying desperately to hold himself together. 

He’s falling apart at the seams, broken on his feet — his eyes bloodshot and swollen, hair abused, his skin pale and sunken and tearstained — and Y/n has this bloodcurdling feeling swelling in her veins that Harry has completely lost touch with himself.

“You decided to get divorced on our wedding anniversary?”

The words get caught in his throat and knot with each breath he takes, his stomach churning on its own bile because every single part of him is so incurably empty. 

Never, in a million years, would he have expected his life to take this sharp of a turn and leave him hanging on the edge without Y/n’s hand to hold. How he’s been breathing and getting through each day is completely beyond himself because he would have never guessed he’d make it that far without her. 

But this… this will end him. 

Because their wedding anniversary isn’t just another day to make it through, or another plan to make in his already booked-up schedule... it’s the one day Harry looks forward to within his mess of a life — the one day Harry can be unconditionally and unapologetically himself, the one day he feels genuine happiness and fulfillment — because he spends every millisecond of it with Y/n, with nobody’s eyes on them, except for each other’s.

And to lose that would make every other day of his life an absolute living nightmare. 

“Baby, please tell me this is some sick joke. You can’t be doing this to me.”

Y/n, now, almost wishes it was, because seeing Harry like this is horrendously unbearable. He is drowning, sinking, falling into the depths of his own hell and she knows she’s the only one that can save him from himself. 

But she can’t. No matter how much her hands are shaking and aching to reach out for him, she knows he’s going to find a way to let go again, and she just can’t risk herself for him anymore.

“It’s going to be easier this way.” Y/n whispers beneath the trembling of her frowned lips, because even though she was once so convinced that this was the only way to save themselves from this loss, she’s now having a hard time believing herself. 

How is any of this going to be easy? 

“If we got divorced any other day, it would —” she chokes out a noise that Harry can only describe to be complete and utter agony, “Harry, it would ruin us. That’s two days, forty-eight full hours of thinking about everything we could have been and everything we’ve lost, and that’s not counting all the time we’ll spend in between thinking about how much we’re going to dread the next date before it even comes.

“We can’t handle that, Harry. Have you seen us? From the second we started dating, the more time we spent with one another — the more time we even thought of one another — made every second apart feel like the end of the world. Imagine feeling that way when we can’t even have each other… it’ll kill us both.”

And despite how badly he wants her to be wrong, deep down, he knows she’s right. 

What they have — the feelings they share and the love that’s rooted between them — is unnatural. It runs so deep that it seems to defy all laws of time and space. They become convinced that the world revolves only around each other — that nothing else has a purpose, or a belonging, in their lives. 

One look is all it takes for time to falter, for the universe to pause, only for them.

But as years passed by and times started changing, they also became convinced that every problem in their relationship wasn’t a matter of lost feelings or unfaithful love, it was a matter of loving each other too much. So much, that they couldn’t survive on their own. 

It was too dangerous and too toxic, but in the most innocent of ways.

“It’ll only kill us if we don’t want it.” Harry croaks out, his tired eyes helpless and vulnerable as they stare into hers, which are just as sad and void as his. “And it is so clear to the both of us that we don’t want this. We can have each other again if you just — please, just let me fight for you.”

He takes a step closer to her, tentatively, because he wouldn’t know how to handle himself if she were to walk away from him again. 

“I can’t lose you, baby. I can’t. The second we walk out of that courtroom we — I’ll never be able to see you again, or talk to you again, or touch you. The only thing I’ll have left of you is Topher and I swear to god, every time I look at him it’s going to take everything in me not to run to you, wherever you end up, and I can’t live like that. I can’t fathom the idea of being so fucking far away from you and not having a single clue where you are or what you’re doing — not knowing if you’re safe, if you’re crying, if you need a hand to hold, if you... if you need me… if you hate me.”

It didn’t hit him until now — the possibility of Y/n curing his name and wishing nothing but death upon him, feeling like she’s wasted so much of her life on someone she wished she had ever even met. And that tears him apart from the inside out, his insides twisting and throat pulsing just at the thought of it.

And how could he do anything when all he wants is her?

“All of this started because I couldn’t be your first, and all of this ended because I chose to put you last even though that’s the farthest place you’ll ever be to me. And the thought of you —”

He chokes on his words, his hand reaching up towards his chest to rest upon his hollowed heart, heaving back sobs that are on the verge of crashing over him. And Y/n can’t bear to watch it. 

“The thought of not having you, Y/n. I can’t stomach it. It’s just not possible. I can’t.”

He’s not holding anything back, now. He’s falling apart and drowning in the pit of sadness he has yet to escape — his body so desperate for relief it can hardly keep itself up anymore. And the only thing that keeps him from collapsing on the concrete is Y/n’s shaking hand upon his shoulder. 

He lets out yet another cry, hunched over, his own hand reaching up to grab ahold of hers. He’d know the feeling of her hand no matter what the circumstances — when she’d surprise him on tour and he’d know it was her hand that touched on his neck before he even heard her voice, or when they were being swarmed by fans and he knew when it was Y/n grabbing his arm and not some random stranger trying to get the best of him.

And how could he find any other pair that could ever come close to holding himself together the way hers does?

Y/n pulls him into her as he weeps his sorrows against her shoulder, hoping that just the hold of her arms are enough to keep him steady… at least for a little while. 

But when he lifts his head from her soaked t-shirt to look into her eyes with pure desperation and despair, she knows that it’s not.

“Please baby, let me fix this. Let me be everything you need me to be.. I can do it, all for you. Just, please, let me make it right.”

His breath falters when his eyes make their way to her lips — god, what he’d do to those lips — and his mouth waters at the urge to pull her in and give her everything he has to offer. 

She’s right there, so close he can feel her breath on his, and all he has to do is just pull her in until her lips fall right into his —

and they do. 

They’re exactly how he remembers them to be — soft and warm, light and sweet — and he whimpers into her mouth, his hands cradling her cheeks as their tongues dance in harmony. 

Y/n pulls him backwards and though he is so swooned and out of his damn mind in ecstasy, he follows her movements like a lost puppy because god forbid he pulls himself away from her ever again. He doesn’t even open his eyes because if this is a dream, it’s one he doesn’t want to wake up from.

And what was once so delicate and raw became hot and heavy — their mouths all over each other’s, hands wandering underneath clothes, moans of temptation dripping from their tongues as they make their way to her bedroom.

And they should stop. God, every bit of them should stop but they can’t because how they have shamelessly missed this, and how badly do they want it back. 

So they don’t.

-

2 hours later. 

“Where were you thinking?”

Y/n was half asleep as she nested herself against Harry’s naked body — her legs trembling from her previous finish, her red, swollen lips parted around tired breaths, eyes shut around a daydream. She looked beautiful — so beautiful, Harry almost didn’t have the heart to keep her awake any longer. 

But he couldn’t help himself… he needed to know before the night took her away from him, because when she fell to her slumber and dreamt of their future together — swinging on a hammock with a bottle of wine, the world fading until all that was left was themselves, surrounded by kids and kittens — he wanted to dream it with her, too. 

“Hm?”

Her eyes were still closed, body unmoving, refusing to wake from her slumbered state but also refusing to miss a single word Harry had to say. 

“Earlier you said that when my contract is over, we can go somewhere only we know.” 

She hummed again, this time, with a warm smile painted on her lips. 

It was her favorite thought — really, her one and only thought — and it was the only dream of hers that she ever really, truly believed in. Everything else, to her, was uncertain, but her life Harry was unquestionable and undeniable. They were meant solely for each other. 

“Where are we, when you think that?” 

She craned her neck against his chest so her lips could peck at his skin, softly, and only once before she rested her head right back to where it laid before.

“Alaska.” 

“Alaska?” 

Harry pulled slightly away from Y/n with furrowed eyebrows and confused eyes, looking down at her as if to assure himself that he heard her correctly.

He was in disbelief. Not because it was unlike her to think of such peculiar things, but because it really was so far away from everything they had ever known, and one of the only places Harry has yet to see.

How she even thought of it, he’d never understand. But he could never question her dreams or make her feel as though he didn’t want them the same way she did. He only wanted what she wanted.

And as he looked down at her, with her eyes still closed and face still soft, her lips turning upwards, he knew how much it meant to her. 

“We don’t have to.” Y/n slurred sheepishly. “Just a thought.”

“No, baby. No, of course I want it, it’s just —” he tucked her in closer to his chest again, afraid he just ruined everything she had been looking forward to. “I’d freeze my balls off, love. We wouldn’t be able to make any babies.” 

She giggled, shaking her head softly. 

“It’s not cold all the time, y’know. And I don’t know… I just fell in love with the idea of us living without any neighbors or any distractions. We could be by the water, have a view of the mountains, have enough land for our kids to wander off and play. And even if it’s not what we imagined it to be… we don’t need anything outside of us. It’ll still be the happiest we’ve ever been because it’ll be you and me. Just you and me.” 

And as she spoke the thoughts that have been floating in her pretty little head, Harry closed his eyes and saw it, too — clear as day, as if his mind had met halfway with hers and went to a universe that was only made for them.

It was then, he knew, that that’s where they belonged. 

-

It shouldn’t feel this way — this ghostly and empty, like being trapped in a room haunted by everything that once was. 

Y/n shouldn’t be looking at Harry beside her, naked, with a clench of regret straining in her heart, but that’s the only thing she feels.

Why? She curses herself. Why does he have to make me so weak? Why does he keep doing this to me?

She shouldn’t be loving him like this — like she’d cut herself open just to please him, like she’d ruin herself just to make him feel better — but she is, just as hard and selflessly as before. And the sad part is… she’s never stopped loving him this way, she wouldn’t even know how to. 

“You should go home, Harry.” Y/n speaks through the words she feels so heartbroken to say, because she shouldn’t even be saying them at all. “I don’t want to keep you from your day.”

And Harry feels it all again. 

The twist in his stomach, the pulsing of his throat, the hallowing of his heart — all surfacing once again even though he thought it was safe to bury away. 

“You’re kicking me out?” 

He whispers it with a crack in his voice and Y/n wants to take back everything she’s done — letting him beg for her love back, letting him cry on her, letting him love on her. Because now look at where they’ve ended up — naked and broken on a bed that didn’t belong to them, wishing reality could let them stay, hoping this wasn’t goodbye. 

But it is. It is goodbye and the last time they could ever be this close again. 

“Yeah, Harry. I’m kicking you out.” 

She doesn’t want to sound so heartless and cruel but she’s been left with no other choice, she has to walk away from this on her own without finding her way back to him. And she’s learned by now that she’s too damn weak when it comes to his pain — she’d give into him if she were to break.

“This wasn’t my way of coming back to you.”

But, oh, how Harry thought it was. 

Sex was never just sex to Y/n — it wasn’t just sex to either of them — especially when it happened with each other. Sure, it got messy, and sloppy, and rough on most nights, but neither of them would have enjoyed it nearly as much if they weren’t so in love.

So why would this time be any different? Why is it that now, so suddenly, it was her way of seeking revenge?

A fresh new wave of tears flood to his eyes, scrunching his face because he refuses to do this again — let her witness another cry, have her bring him to his knees, allow her to watch him break his own bones. The more he does it, the more power he gives her to treat him like this — like a one-night stand unworthy of her days, like a fuck she can only give when it’s convenient for her. 

These past two hours have been a whirlwind of emotions for him, yet somehow, they were all too hopeful — thoughts of spending the night together, making love past dawn, playing hide and seek beneath the covers. 

And here she is, throwing words around that crush all the rest of his hopes and dreams.

He hits his hand against the mattress, betrayal and deceit coursing so ruthlessly through his veins he feels his skin burn with each beat of his heart — leaving him damned in their nakedness.

“So, what?! You decided to screw me just to even the score?! Get me all over you just to push me away?!” 

Y/n flinches from where she lays, her eyes still empty and sunken as she watches Harry hurl himself from her bed and as far away from her as possible. He had hardly ever raised his voice at her, even when she was most deserving of it, and it leaves her gutted and bruised in her wake.

“It’s not like that.” She whispers, though she knows it doesn’t really matter if she says it at all — he’s never going to let this go. “You were so hurt and I couldn’t —” she flutters her eyes shut, “I can’t control myself around you.”

He shakes his head and spits out a laugh so dark it sends a shiver down her spine, his eyes looking anywhere but at her, stepping into the leg of his pants like he couldn’t have been covered fast enough. 

He’s angry, so angry and so hurt his hands and legs are numb and the backs of his eyes are stained red, and he’s at a loss of what to do. He’s done everything to deserve feeling this way yet something inside of him is bursting at the seams, desperate to extinguish it. 

“So you decide to hurt me more?” 

His chest aches and shivers, eyes shut and weep, now wondering if this dream is now a nightmare he’s going to be stuck in for the rest of his life. 

And Y/n’s eyes fall to his empty side of the bed, wondering how she’s going to sleep here at night — wondering how she’s going to possibly live through this — after she had just done what she did. 

“It wasn’t right, I know that, but I swear it —”

“No, it wasn’t right!” Harry fights back, though it’ll only risk losing her more. “I’m not perfect in this marriage but never once have I used you just to give you a taste of your own medicine! I don’t get you all weak and vulnerable just to spit it in your face later!” 

He’s right, he hasn’t, but what an unfair statement to throw at the mess he’s already made of her.

He’s done worse — so much worse — such unspeakable and disloyal things that have left her alone to rot, decompose right in his own two hands until she perished in his ruin, and never once had he gone back on his mistakes. He just left her there, hopeless and afraid.

And she wants to scream it at him — wants to give it all right back to him, make him feel so small for what he’s done, break him down over, and over, and over again just to make him see that her moment of weakness was nothing compared to his moments of truth. 

But she’s so much better than that. 

“You think you don’t use me?” She breathes out in disbelief, sitting up upon the mattress now, holding the blanket up to her bare chest. “You use me every day. You’ve been using me as an option for the past year because you can’t handle doing your shit on your own!”

He’s still now, letting her words soak and seep into him as she picks and pries at his biggest weaknesses. And he is left defenseless. 

“You don’t want this divorce because the second we sign our names on that contract, you’ll be alone just like you were before we met! And you’re going to be terrified looking for somebody else to replace this because nobody has been able to convince you that they love you for you and not for your money, except for me.”

God, why does she have to know him so well? Because even though that wasn’t even close to being the reason as to why Harry refused to pick a date, it was one of his greatest fears.

“So you just keep finding your way back to me because I’m the only love you’ve ever known, and if you lose it, you’re not going to know where to find it again.”

He can’t find it again and he won’t find it again, he knows it’s true. Everything in his life had led him to her, which is exactly where he’s supposed to be. 

His world begins and ends with her, rises and falls next to her and there isn’t anybody else that could offer him that much. He doesn’t have to go looking to know that. 

“I can only find it in you, you know that.” Harry whimpers out, fingers shaking as he places his hand on the corner of the bed, still reaching for her even in their worst moments. “But you’ve proven to me time and time again that you can throw it all away so easily, like it's meant nothing to you.”

His fingers fist at the duvet, praying for something to save him now. 

“So open to dating other guys and make me watch you as you do it, so ready to fuck me just to kick me out at my lowest. And I am so low, Y/n, the lowest I have ever been, but you’ve stooped even lower.” 

And he really can’t believe he’s doing this — walking away when he just gave her all the love he could give, saying goodbye when they were just saying how much they loved and missed each other not just two hours ago — but this is what she wants. This is the version of himself she’s created. 

And he should really curse her for it, scream and cry and kick and yell, dig her six feet under for messing with him like this. But he’s too betrayed and in too much pain to do anything but run away and find a place for himself to be torn limb from limb until he’s a pile of waste that can no longer be found.

He lets one last sob rip out of him before he looks at her one last time, knowing this is it.

“I’ll see you in fifteen days.”

-

They should be by the ocean, watching the sunrise from their hotel balcony with a morning drink strong enough to take them both under while they cheers to the three years they’ve lived so happily together as husband and wife. 

Topher should be asleep in his grandparents’ bed, getting lost in lullabies, dreaming of his parents’ return. And they should be dancing after breakfast in bed, laughing at the memories that haven’t let them go, singing the songs he wrote just for her.

They shouldn’t be here — sitting in a courtroom drowning in tears they are so worthless at holding back, listening to strangers discuss all the logistics and terms of a broken marriage they know nothing about. 

How they have ended up somewhere so dark and deadly is beyond them. This is so unlike them — to willingly sign their names to be free of one another, to allow themselves to move onto other people who weren’t meant for them, to leave behind the life they’ve made for themselves — but this isn’t a matter of whether they want to anymore.

There has been so much damage done to the both of them that staying in this marriage, at this point, would just be cruel and spiteful and selfish. No matter how many sleepless nights they spend craving each other’s hold, wanting to climb out of their own beds and into the one they once shared so nobly, they have to let it all go.

And neither of them can breathe or bear to listen to these lawyers go on and on about what happens now — what will happen when they walk out of the courtroom, how their lives are going to be split, how they’re going to have to take turns spending time with the son they should be raising together as a family. 

They don’t care about their lives after this moment in time because it will no longer be lived alongside one another, and that ensured a lifetime of misery for the both of them.

And they can’t even find the heart to look at each other. One look and who knows what decisions they’d make in their fragility. Who knows how far their love could take them to do such nonsense, such childish things.

One look and it’s over for the both of them.

“Mrs. Styles,” Y/n flinches at the name he so pathetically decided to refer to her as. “Your husband has left you with everything. This would mean that custody of Topher, the money, your home in both London and Alaska would be fully held in your possession.” 

And suddenly, the room that was once so still and so lifeless begins to spin before her very eyes. The world is spiraling out of her control and her body is in so much shock, the only thing she can manage to do is grip at the edge of the table so tight, her fingers and knuckles turn white. 

“Can you repeat that?” 

Her eyes are wet, wide, and unblinking as she looks back up at Harry’s lawyer she hasn’t even bothered remembering the name to. 

“That last bit. I need you to repeat it for me.”

He coughs awkwardly, his eyes drifting between Harry and Y/n before they finally settle back down to his paper. “Yes, ma’am. Uh, in your possession would be full custody of Topher, the seventeen million euros under Mr. Styles’ name, and your home in both London and Alaska.” 

Alaska.

The word strikes her so deep and so unexpectedly, her breath halts in her chest and every muscle in her body buckles against each other. 

And how could one word have so much power over her? How could one word make her feel a million different things all at once — leaving her so confused yet so hopeful, so heartbroken yet so fulfilled?

“Our home in Alaska?”

Her eyes are no longer trained on the man who just spoke that very word to her — no, they are now looking directly at the man who seems even more beaten and broken than the last time she saw him, the same man who shared all her wildest dreams. 

And though she barely had any composure as it was, the parts of herself that were patched together with needle and thread are rupturing and bleeding out. And Harry has to so helplessly watch as the love of his life starts to crack and shatter at his feet. 

“You didn’t, Harry! No you fucking didn’t!” 

She punches at the table before holding her head in her hands, sobbing and choking and wailing in her palms. She can’t even imagine how pathetic she looks to lawyers around her but she doesn’t find it in herself to care. 

They’ll never understand what that house in Alaska truly means to her, what it’s gotten her through and how much it’s kept her fighting through it all. They don’t know that living in that house with Harry — spending her days and her nights there, by his side until her dying day there — was her one and only dream.

And she had no idea it could have been her reality, until now. 

“Of course I did, Y/n.” Harry whispers, his wrists wiping harshly at his red and swollen eyes. “I bought it that night.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Y/n pleads under her hysterics.

“Twenty acres, right by the water, across from the mountains, just like you talked about.”

Her cries only get stronger as she thinks about it all over again. And normally when she thought of it, it warmed her heart and filled her bones up with so much anticipation and impatience she could hardly contain herself.

But now, when she thinks of it, it leaves her cold and empty because it was right there — it was theirs and it was going to happen and they could be there right now and it’s all too much for her to handle. 

She’s practically screaming between her hiccups and mewls now, really trying to breathe through the clenching in her chest and the quivering in her lungs but she can’t. And she is so lightheaded she swears she’s going to pass out right then and there, especially now that she’s sobbing so hard her throat pulses around a cry she can’t breathe it out.

And she’s going to die, she’s absolutely sure of it. Her entire body is flushed and shaking and her face is nearly blue — her lungs are collapsing and her heart is failing and she’s crashing out without warning. 

And the sight alone brings Harry to his knees, hunched over the floor as he nearly hurls up the bile rumbling in his stomach. 

He did this to her — did this to them. He is the only one to blame and that’s what devours him the most. 

They could be at that Alaskan house right now, on that stupid fucking hammock drinking wine and making out like two lovestruck teenagers still learning how to be the best versions of themselves for each other. And they could be so drunk they fall to grass below them, dazed in their fits of laughter, falling in love all over again.

But instead they have fallen to the ground in a courtroom so willing to burn them out, wrecked and broken in each other’s arms, trying to remember what it feels like to have a heartbeat.

And all that remains are the two piles of divorce papers that they still have yet to sign.

[madara-fate]

If Kishimoto really wants people to believe that Sasuke loves Sakura and that they have such a good marriage then he's doing a piss poor job at it. You don't see people arguing if Minato loved Kushina or not or if Dan loved Tsunade or not. You don't. The fact that there are so many people arguing whether Sasuke loves Sakura or not, and many people believing he doesn't is just proof that Kishimoto failed somewhere or else there wouldn't be this much controversy surrounding this matter. It's either Kishimoto implying Sasuke does not love her, either Kishimoto intending to portray his idea of a good realtionship/loving husband through SS and failing miserably. Sasuke did not look happy when he saw Sakura in Gaiden first time after 10 years of absence. He couldn't even bother to send a letter to her and Sarada to let them know he was alright and thinking about them during this period. And no, please don't come at me with that bullshit excuse that he didn't keep in contact because he wanted to keep the secrecy of his mission and did not want any private information to leak and that's why he was only keeping in contact with the Hokage or whatever. No one says that if he ever bothered to write them he had to go into details about his mission. He could've just told them he's alright, that he misses them and hopes they're fine and that would've been great too and wouldn't have compromised his mission in any way. The man has space time abilities for fuck's sake. He could've easily teleported to see them and then go back to his business. In my opinion Kishimoto wrote SS in this ambiguous way to appease both the SS haters and the SS shippers. He knew SS fans were going to be happy with whatever he threw at them even if it was the absolute bottom of the barrel and he knew the antis were gonna have a good time using Gaiden to further tear the ship apart. This man is either terrible at writing romance either a huge troll who enjoys pitying his readers against each other. Or maybe both. And I assure you, I don't even hate SS, despite what I have written so far, nor do I ship something else. And Sasuke is also my favorite character. I'm indifferent to this pairing and maybe that's why I can have a more objective opinion on it than its shippers or its haters since I'm not biased due to personal feelings of either distaste or love for it. SS can be seen in both a good and a bad light, but to be honest the balance is more inclined towards the bad light.

This is just more of the stuff that I've heard plenty of times before. I'll firstly preface this by saying that I'm very highly critical of Gaiden because it included pointless drama for the sake of pointless drama. It's execution was horrendous to say the least, but I'll always still appreciate the message that Kishi was trying to relay. However, I will always take issue with those who defend the notion that Sasuke doesn't love Sakura. Hence, the following.

You don't see people arguing if Minato loved Kushina or not or if Dan loved Tsunade or not. You don't. The fact that there are so many people arguing whether Sasuke loves Sakura or not, and many people believing he doesn't is just proof that Kishimoto failed somewhere or else there wouldn't be this much controversy surrounding this matter.

Minato wasn't drowning in hatred due to a supernatural phenomenon which cause him to push away love in favour of the darkness. Dan wasn't made to undertake a preposterously long mission while intending to keep everything about it confidential. Why on earth do people think they can just compare any random relationships to SS's and go "well look at this couple! Why couldn't SS have been more like them?". Well here's your answer - Because their situations were nothing alike. But why do people constantly believe that those relationships are the only models for what a loving relationship can be? The struggles that Sasuke and Sakura faced during Gaiden were not due to issues with each other, but rather, they were shown facing hurdles which they overcame together. They were perfectly happy with each other, and not once did their dedication to one another ever falter during Sasuke's mission. Just because the couple faced hard times does not mean their bond is any weaker. On the contrary, the fact they they faced those hard times together and came out of them just as strong if not stronger than before, is a testament to the strength of the relationship.

You wanna know what I don't see? I don't see people questioning Neji and Hinata's relationship despite Neji trying to kill her during the Chuunin Exams. I don't see people questioning Hiashi's feelings towards Hinata despite essentially disowning her because he deemed her to be a failure. I don't see people questioning Gaara being the Kazekage despite him previously being feared as a killing machine who slaughtered many innocent people, by the very same villagers who now respect him as their leader. I don't see people questioning why Kabuto was trusted to become the head of the Orphanage and taking care of the future of the village, despite being a notorious war criminal. No, but of course people will question SS right? Despite them just being another example of the same theme.

It's either Kishimoto implying Sasuke does not love her, either Kishimoto intending to portray his idea of a good relationship/loving husband through SS and failing miserably.

Kishi flat out said, that the love between the Uchiha family is the real deal. He's not implying anything, and if he truly failed at depicting this, then SS wouldn't have consistently proven to be the most popular canonised pairing for years following the manga's ending.

Sasuke did not look happy when he saw Sakura in Gaiden first time after 10 years of absence.

And you think that's indicative that he doesn't love her? Are you serious? The entire time, Sasuke was very clearly shown to be aggravated because people who weren't supposed to be at his and Naruto's secret meeting place kept showing up. He didn't look happy when first meeting Naruto either, despite not seeing him for just as long. So what? You think that means he doesn't care about Naruto either? He was aggravated that Sarada was there because she was supposed to be in the village safe from all this, he was annoyed with Naruto for allowing the kids to follow him in the first place, and yeah, he didn't jump for joy when seeing Sakura because again, she was meant to be watching over Sarada in the village. One of the biggest incentives for his secrecy was to keep Sarada safe, and everything that was happening then, was the opposite of that.

He couldn't even bother to send a letter to her and Sarada to let them know he was alright and thinking about them during this period. And no, please don't come at me with that bullshit excuse that he didn't keep in contact because he wanted to keep the secrecy of his mission and did not want any private information to leak and that's why he was only keeping in contact with the Hokage or whatever. No one says that if he ever bothered to write them he had to go into details about his mission. He could've just told them he's alright, that he misses them and hopes they're fine and that would've been great too and wouldn't have compromised his mission in any way.

You can call it a "bullshit excuse" all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that this is the reason that was given. But it's like people just refuse to acknowledge the fact that Sasuke admitted that he had made a big mistake, and refused to allow Sakura to apologise because he knew that he was the one at fault:

I mean what? Do people think that Sasuke has to be perfect or something? Is he not a human who makes mistakes just like everyone else? Sasuke knew that he took his secrecy too far, he hadn't anticipated the adverse affects his absence would have on Sarada, and he apologised for his mistake. Why? Because he cares, for goodness sake it's not hard to comprehend. I seriously would have never thought that people would actually question whether or not he loves his family. Why would Kishi promote a loveless marriage in his manga aimed at young boys? It just boggles the mind. If Sasuke didn't care about them, he wouldn't have thought he did anything wrong by his lack of contact with his daughter. I emphasise with his daughter because Sakura was still somewhat in contact with Sasuke as she was kept informed of what he was doing.

In my opinion Kishimoto wrote SS in this ambiguous way to appease both the SS haters and the SS shippers.

Why would Kishi care about appeasing the same fans who harassed him so badly following the manga's conclusion, that his editior had to respond in broken English and basically tell those entitled children that the story doesn't belong to them? I'll reiterate that there's nothing "ambiguous" about their relationship, nor is Kishi implying anything. Gaiden made it crystal clear, that the love between the Uchiha family is the real deal, there's nothing ambiguous about that statement, there's nothing ambiguous about Sasuke giving Sakura the forehead poke, and there's nothing ambiguous about Sasuke flat out clarifying that his heart is connected to Sakura's.