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satorusdiary · 11 months

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"Now that's where you’re wrong, baby. Your mine. Anything you do is my buisness."

Toji Fushiguro x Reader

slight angst + fluff + smut + happy ending + Toji and Reader being down bad for each other :)

Summary: Toji and Reader have been on and off. Yet they have never made it official on what their “relationship” actually was. After an argument, the pair finds themselves being distanced away from each other for a whole 2 months. For the whole 2 months, Reader has been avoiding Toji. When Gojo’s birthday party happens, Toji has had enough when he catches you locking lips with him on the dance floor.

Today marks the 67th day of you avoiding Toji. 67 days without being in bed with him, 67 days without his dick in you, and 67 days without him spoiling you with all the love and affection you desperately needed.

You missed him more than anything.

Apart of you was so close to text him, and to send that “i miss you, please come over.” message. But you had to put yourself first for once. You came to your senses that you wouldn’t waste another 6 months with a man, just for him to call your “relationship” friends with benefits.

Therefore, you blocked him.

You didn’t know what you were doing now. The party you were attending was one you didnt even want to be at, yet here you were. Dancing along side with your friends.

The whole room starting reeking of alcohol and weed, and other stuff that you couldn't put your mind into thinking of it. You were for sure catching a headache from all substances creating in one setting into your senses.

"Fuck i gotta pee." You held your stomach, the slight feeling of needing to throw up occurred to you. Yumi, who was your long term friend and roommate next you held your back and looked at you worried.

"You okay? I'll take you to the bathroom if you need." She offers.

You shake your head and sent a smile her way easing her feels of worrying. The beating in your head wouldn't stop, but you managed to still get by when you starting moving away from the group to find the restroom.

Pushing past others was also a hassle. You encountered others sexually dancing with others, and pushed past the larger groups that were blocking entry ways into spaces you needed to get by.

You walked into the main entrance where many other were crowding around, letting others into the house. You knew there was a bathroom near by there.

Something then caught your eye once you got a clear view of one of the couches, near the entry way. There was two girls, one boy on one couch. One girl was on top of his lap above his crotch, while the other girl was next to him kissing those lips that were once kissing you, and your body.

His raven hair, the baby hairs falling into place infront of his face dangling slightly hinting the other girl he was making out with.

One of his large hands traveled down onto the girl that was on him, slithering down her back and into her ass, giving it tight squeezes. The other hand was cupping the girl he was kissing face, holding it roughly. You shouldn't be watching this, but suddenly you felt a burning sensation build up in your body, most likely your chest.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You cursed to yourself. The first time you’ve glanced at him, Toji. Was when you catch him having a three way with two random girls.

You didn’t even notice your eyes watering. He used to touch you like that.

He opened his eyes, glancing at you with a gentle smirk forming as he continued to kiss the girl beside him, observing your shift in movement at the intensity of his gaze. He watched as your jaws clenched with a hint of jealousy. He was enjoying this.

You sucked in a deep breathe before walking in a fast pace back into the crowd, looking for anyone in general that could keep you company and calm you down at once.

Him thinking this shit was funny was what pissed you off the most.

Satoru and Suguru, who happened to be by the drinks near the kitchen were around a big group of people. Some girls ogling over Satoru, Suguru beside him was selling. Their eyes were settled on you once they saw you enter their gaze, as you walked over to get a cup of alcohol drinking it straight away.

Satoru quickly walked over to you, ignoring the others who were protesting he come back to receive more gifts from others that came to celebrate his birthday. Before you can drink anymore, he snatched the drink from you and looked down at you with a confused tone.

"Easy—easy there love. You good?" He rubbed your shoulder making you look back up him. You ignored the pet name, even though you were slightly blushing and continued to have small talk.

"It's nothing, i was just thirsty." you replied.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you uncertainly. The birthday crown that was over his head was slightly falling off the one side of his head. You scanned around the room and sucked in your teeth, trying to see if Yumi was around. No sign of her in your vision.

You ignored it and looked up at Satoru, plastering a somewhat forced smile on your face, sheltering the feeling of hurt you felt towards the scene you once saw before walking towards him.

You wanted Toji back. Desperately. But your pride for yourself, and self confidence was getting in the way. You needed to provide for yourself for once.

Satoru places one of his hands against your lower back, gently rubbing circles as he looked at you with a gentle expression. He knew you were upset about something, but he couldn't understand what you were upset about that would ruin your night so easily.

Your eyes lit up at an idea. You wrapped your arms around Satoru’s neck and pulled him down until your lips slightly made contact with his ears.

"Satoru.. would you like to dance with me?" You asked in a seducing tone. One that made his hold on you tighten bringing you closer to him. A smirk appears on his lips.

When you pulled away waiting for an answer, his low eyes looked at you with a hint of lust. He smiled and gave you a small nod before holding an arm around your waist, leading you towards the dance floor.

Once you were in the center, a place where you knew Toji would see you, you placed your arms around Satoru and started to move along with him. His large hands slithering down your frame and running against your ass, giving them slight squeezes.

When you looked over his shoulder, you noticed a few girls looking at you with a hint of jealousy running through their expressions. No sign of Toji yet.

You sent delicate kisses over Satoru’s neck. One hand left his waist as he cupped your jaw just so he could whisper in your ear.

"Y'Know, this is dangerous. Your lil boyfriend can pop out of no where and beat the shit out of me for dancing with you." He smirked.

You shook your head, talking into his ear once more.

“Boyfriend? no, no no. It wasn’t like that the second he fucked up.” You murmured.

He pulled away to meet your eyes. Leaning his face closer into your face, before asking you one question that made you know what you wanted at the moment on the dance floor.

"Oh, so he won't mind me kissing you?"

You shook your head and placed your lips on his. His other hand grabbed the back of your head to pull you closer into the kiss than you already are; deepening the kiss. He bit your lower lip and continued to suck on it, making you moan into his mouth.

He slithered his tongue into your mouth as the make-out session continued. Satoru’s big hands running down the sides of your dress, letting his hands touch, studying every curve they came across giving them small squeezes.

You opened your eyes to get a glimpse around you. Toji came to your vision as he watched you and his friend make out willingly in-front of him. You did as he did, smirked in-front of his face and continued to bring Satoru closer than he already was.

Toji was willingly wanting to go over to you both and push him off of you. But he couldn't, he was frozen on the spot and upset, obviously glaring at you both with a beam of hatred.

He didn’t know why he continued to watch. Maybe it’s his sick mind imagining that it was him making out with you instead of that Jack-Frost wannabe.

He distanced himself from you both, going his own way to deny his own feelings of jealousy that he definitely has because of Satoru. You chucked to yourself and gave your attention back to Satoru, happily kissing him which he obligated back.

"Is this my birthday present from you, baby?" Satoru questioned against your lips.

You giggled and nodded your head. "Yeah if you want it to be."

The two of you continued to have small talk for the next hour, having fun and keeping each other company. Happily.

"We should probably stop before things get hectic, Toji over there looks pissed." Satoru laughed out nervously as he looked over your shoulder to look back at Toji, who was giving him an intimidating hateful glare.

You frowned but nodded in agreement. "Alright, give me one more kiss though."

He agreed and pulled you down into one more kiss, roaming his hands down onto your body once more to remember the feeling of being able to do something like those with you.

After a few minutes, you pulled away from him and followed him as you made your way back over to your friends group.

"Hold up, i'm gonna freshen up real quick. I'll meet your with the others soon." You told Satoru, who nodded his head and pushed past the crowd to get back with his friends.

The music changed and started playing "Persian Rugs by PartyNextDoor." You loved this song with a passion. Everyone in the room began to get hyped and continued to dance with others, the lights changing color as smoke consumed most of the area.

You quickly made your way into the bathroom and shut the door, lucky you pushed past the big line of people that needed to use the bathroom. You walked up to the mirror and placed both hands on the counter looking back at your reflection, letting out a big sigh. Your lipstick was slightly smudged, which made you put your thumb at the smudged part to wipe of the left over lipstick. You eyed your figure, and your dress. Your lucky you've gotten this dress, even if it was a bit tight you loved it. It was one of your favorites to wear at a party.

A few bangs hit the bathroom door, signaling you to hurry up. You rolled your eyes and took your handbag and placed it over your shoulder before placing your hand on the doorknob to twist it open. Kento , who was outside the door looked down at you with a surprised look, which turned into a apologetic look after.

"Whoops, sorry y/n. Didn't know you were in here." He apologized before pushing through to get in the bathroom.

"It's fine, Kento." You began to walk away. This time in a different direction than where you were supposed to go. Instead of going back to the dance floor you decided to walk further into the house. You've never been in Satoru’s family home before, why not take advantage and give yourself a house tour for yourself?

You walked down the hallway and walked into a led light room, filled with many different colors that were covering the room with its light. There was not many people inside, besides a few people you recognized that went to the same college as you.

As you walked further, you noticed how beautiful Satoru’s family home actually is. It's well decorative, insanely expensive, and it has beautiful lighting all around the rooms.

You felt someone tug at your wrist which startled you. Before you can get a look at the person you were lifted up by the waist and thrown over someone's shoulder, as if you were a sack of nothing. The man's muscular arms were around your legs while you turned to look at the person who began walking away with you over his shoulder.

"What the fuck— hey let me go!" You punched at the persons back. It was hard to see who the person was, he kept taking you both through dark rooms making it hard to make out the person features. That was until he brought you both into a bedroom and closed the door behind him, locking it. Now you were afraid, you were growing a anxious feeling in your stomach that made you want to scream.

That was until you looked up at the person who brought you into the room. The larger man’s large hands pushed down on your waist as you were pinned against one of the walls in the bedroom. He looked upset, his glare looking down at you sent shivers down your spine as you kept avoiding his gaze.

It was Toji fucking Fushiguro.

He placed his hand under your chin and shifted your head to meet his eyes, placing his forehead against yours.

"So, you getting at my friend now?" His low voice murmured against your head. His hot breathe hitting your face in doing so. You looked up at him with an upset gaze.

"Don't act stupid. Actin like you weren't having a three way with two girls you probably don't know. And anyways, anything i do with Satoru is none of your business." You explained and tried getting out of him grasp. You wanted to walk out the door, and have your own fun. Without him ruining it.

"Now that's where your wrong, baby. Your mine. Anything you do is my buisness." He told you, bringing down his head to place small, delicate kisses onto your neck.

Your legs were gonna give out, there was a heat building up in between your thighs which made you slightly rub them together.

"I'm not yours, now leave me alone. Don't ruin my night please." You pleaded.

He ignored your statement and continued kissing your neck. He noticed how you rubbed your thighs which made him smirk. The next move he did was placing his knee in between your legs, making connections with your crotch.

“Y-You broke my heart Toji. I fucking hate you for that.” Your throat began clogging up as your hands clenched into a fist.

Toji moved his kisses up from your neck, and kissed the shell of your ear. Before muttering soft words you’d never though you would ever hear again.

“‘m so sorry, my baby. ‘m a fuckin idiot for letting you go. You’re my only girl.” He apologized, thinking it would atleast make you feel better.

That was until he felt a few sniffles against his shoulder. His world stopping as he now feels tears seeping through his jacket. Then he remembers when he saw you watch him make out with a few randoms. His poor girl, probably couldn’t handle the scene she saw.

"Those girls meant nothing to me, all i want is you. But you made it more difficult when you blocked me." He stated into your ear. The smell of his cologne was all you can smell.

He picked you up by the waist and made his way onto the bed. Unknowingly to you, the bedroom was Satoru’s. Toji knew what he was doing when he dragged you into this room.

As he sat down, he placed you on his lap making you wrap your arms around his neck so you didn't fall down.

"Don't lie, w-what d’ya even want from me?" You stuttered, a heat of embarrassment rose inside your chest.

He rubbed his hands up and down your body, eyeing at how much skin you were showing from your dress. Then, his hands slithered down to your bare legs and rubbed them aswell.

You looked so beautiful. As if an angel just appeared into his eyes.

He kissed your forehead and place his head against yours before looking down at your lips.

"I want you, sweetheart." He admitted. You wanted to pull away and deny everything. But honestly, you missed his touch. And you missed fucking him.

You placed your hands under his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. Your lips sucking at his bottom lip making him softly grin at your actions. His hands were on your waist, moving and guiding your hips above his crotch. You felt his clothes budge under your crotch as well.

His hands that were roaming your bare legs lifted up the dress you wear wearing, taking it off your frame making you pull away from him. He looked into your lustful eyes as he unclothed you.

His cheeks were slightly red, from the slight movement you've been making that's gotten him hard under your touch. Delicately, he held onto the hook of your laced bra and unhooked it. Your bra fell off your body, your breast being free from it.

You felt heat build up into your cheeks as you embarrassingly covered your chest. You haven't done this with him in awhile, it's like this is your first time with him again.

Toji held onto your arms and tried removing them from your chest. "Don't hide from me, Baby your beautiful"

He pulled away your arms and left kisses around your breasts. One hand was massaging one of your breasts, while the other was being cupped to help Toji kiss it better for you.

You moaned when he began sucking on your nipple, constantly licking and biting the more you grind your hips on top of him. Suddenly, he carried you and laid you down on the bed, letting go of your breast with a pop.

"Open up for me." He demanded.

"H-Huh??" You cried out, your legs were shut. You were too embarrassed to show yourself like that.

"Your legs." His voice was an octave lower. "Let me see that dripping cunt." You whimpered and swallowed your breath before slowly parting your legs giving a slight glimpse of your folds, that were soaked and glistening with your wetness. Toji thinks he's died and gone to heaven with this sight that was blessed for his eyes, and his eyes only.

"Look at you," Toji smirked, pressing your thigh to the bed with one hand while sliding up your leg and ghosting his fingertips over your pussy's lips with the other. "You're soaked, princess," He muttered.

Two fingers were inserted into Toji’s mouth, covering them in saliva, and then pulled back down to slide between your folds. He abruptly put two digits inside, crooked them up, and sent a shockwave through your entire body.

He tittered, pulling out his fingers only to re-insert them into his mouth while swirling his tongue to catch a whiff of your flavor. He continued to look at you while muttering softly between his fingers. His sneer was lewd as he slid them out.

"Toji—" You were cut off when Toji began swirling his tongue against your clit, holding your body firmly in place as you moved on the bed from the pleasure that has been given to you.

"I missed you." You admitted making him look up from between your legs, his eyes meeting yours as he spared a small grin. He pressed another kiss to your cunt before replying.

"I missed you more, baby."

He kissed up at your body, stopping at your lips as he swirled his tongue around yours in a lewd manner. Occasionally you would moan into his mouth, as you were lolling your tongue into his.

He pulls his pants down, along with his boxers. His cock springs out, obviously rock hard. To your surprise it was harder than usual. He strokes his cock into his hands, eyeing you the whole time as your cunt gets wetter and wetter just from looking at his cock.

He aligned himself towards your body, rubbing his tip against your sopping wet entrance. The lewd noises of your cunt squelching can be heard from all around the room. Carefully, he pushes himself inside you. His hands on both sides of your hips as he gets inside deeper.

Once he's fully inside he places his hand above your stomach to feel himself inside you. You were basically suffocating his cock inside of you from your squeezing, it made him close his eyes for a slight second to adjust to your feeling.

You placed your hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down and looked at him with doe eyes. "Tojii, move please." You beg. The feeling of him just cock warming you wasn't enough for your pleasure.

"Aight, you asked for this 'baby no going back now." He began thrusting into you in and out, in a harsh and fast manner. Your eyes began fluttering in arousal as your clung to his arms.

As his thrusts grew louder, so did your moans. You gripped around his neck as he moved inside of you. The headboard banged violently against the wall making a harsh noise that you knew the people in the room next door wouldn't enjoy as Toji continued to push his big cock into you harshly. Toji began to rock faster inside of you, observing the ways your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back as he thrusted into your g-spot which made you moan louder than ever. he pulled himself out of you, only to reinsert himself so you felt full once again as he made you adjust to his own size as you continued to cry out his name over and over.

Tears began escaping your e/c orbs. The wet substance began falling onto the bedsheets making Toji bend down to kiss your tears away. "Your pretty when you cry." He complimented, continuing on to kiss your face and your tears.

He continued to roll his hips into yours in a fast pace. He abused your used hole in ways he has never before making a new feeling appear in your stomach. The bubble that was forming was just begging to be released. When his cock twitched inside of you, it made it worse for you.

"Look how deep i am inside you, baby." He cooed making your hand press against your stomach. You looked at him surprised as you felt his cock move inside your stomach. The feeling was almost too much to bear for you body.

He felt pleased that he had caused you to see stars as he watched your breasts bounce with each violent thrust he made. Toji continued to pound into you; you could hear your flesh slapping and hearing a mild squelching. As he continued to pound into you, you moaned out his name while holding onto him. He groaned each time you clenched around him as he pulled away from you and then pushed himself back in. He halted the pulling and started to set a rough pace once more. Toji proceeded to exploit your sweet spots, and you felt ecstasy take over your body.

"—'m gonna cumm" you moaned outloud into Toji’s ear when you pulled him closer to you. Your bodies were hot, closed together as the intimate feeling continued on.

"Cum then, y/n." He pounded harder into as he buried his head into your neck. Kissing, sucking, and licking your soft skin as he claimed you as his once again for the first time in awhile.

You began releasing on him as kept trusting into you. After a few thrusts he came in you aswell. That was a trigger that made you cum for the second time around his cock. Cums mixing in together deep inside of you unknowingly creating the love you two sheared together.

Now, the both of you were panting. Toji places a kiss onto the crown of your head before hiding his head into your neck. Deep breaths being felt against you as you tried collecting your breath.

He was still buried deep inside of you. Thrusting in slightly as he calmed down from his high. You watched as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, you hissed from the the overstimulation that over came inside your body.

"Shit, —sorry." He rubbed one side of your body calming you down.

"You okay?" He questions, looking at your fragile, bruised, marked body that he had done.

You hesitantly nodded your head before scanning your body. A pain flashed through you as you tried moving your legs, which Toji took a notice in.

"I can't move my legs." You nervously laughed out loud. Toji nodded his head and began messaging your legs and thighs.

"Sorry baby, i'll help you put your clothes on." He offered, carrying your frame to bring you over to the bathroom that was inside the bedroom.

After your cleaned up, Toji brings your dress and drags back up over your naked body. You looked at him in awe. Your legs were still sore, but you only had your heals with you.

"fuck, this is gonna be a pain." You whined, putting on your heels. Your arm was around Toji’s waist as he assured you some help when you would have difficulties.

He was already fully dressed, besides his jacket that was left on the counter of the bathroom. You patted down your dress as you examined yourself from the mirror. Toji behind you took his jacket, and hung it over your shoulders.

You smiled and put it on before turned around to pull him into a hug, which he happily returned giving you a small rare smile that he usually doesn't give to others around him. As you hug, his hands roam around your body, admiring your curves

“Let’s get out of here, hm baby? Let’s’ go back home and cuddle the night away?” Toji offered. The look he gave you was full of love, and adoration. Something you missed.

You hummed in response, though it wasn’t one he expected.

“That depends, am I still your friends with benefits?” You teasingly asked, the grin on his lips never leaving his features.

“Nah, you’re my girlfriend. Hell, baby. I’d buy you a fuckin ring if you’d want.” Toji exclaimed, kissing your forehead then your lips.

Your body filled with excitement, just a few days ago you continued crying over him. Now you were back with him, today really went according to plan.

“I love you.” Toji muttered, quietly. Yet you were able to hear it.

A big smile appears on your cute features, making Toji’s heart do spins. The feeling of your warm welcoming hands cup his cheeks.

“I love you s’much more. Take us home, please Toji.” You begged.

His arm wraps around your waist, and over his jacket that was around your body. His other hand clutching onto his car keys.

“Right ahead of you, sweetheart. ‘m gonna make up for lost time for you, as your boyfriend.” He kissed your cheek.

Finally, now that label was something you enjoyed.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

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kodzukenmaaa · 1 year

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[𝟎𝟖.𝟏𝟕]

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ pairing: Munakata Souta X Reader

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ contents: lazy sunday

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ warnings: mention of half nude.

You were woken up by gentle kisses all over your exposed nape. "Good morning sunshine, " Your eyes flutter open hearing his deep voice. You rolled over finally facing him, your snuggle closer to his bare chest seeking for warmth.

"Good mornin'," you kissed his skin. "Don't you have class?" You look back at him wondering why is he still in bed with you.

"Nope, meaning I can stay in bed with you all day." He replied with his lips trailing from your forehead down to your jawline.

"Sure but I don't want to stay in bed all day, I'm hungry." You said looking him right in the eyes.

He put his hand behind your head and pulled your head gently to the crook of his neck "Let's just stay in bed for a couple of minutes more alright?" With a small sniff of your hair and placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

You hummed before deciding to close your eyes, "I guess there's no harm in staying in bed for a couple minutes."

You two wake up at 12.

It's short, sorry. I just have this small idea for making one and this short because tomorrow is Sunday and all I can think about is a lazy Sunday.

#munakata souta x you #munakata souta x reader #suzume no tojimari x masterlist #suzume no tojimari x you #suzume no tojimari x reader #suzume no tojimari #lazy sunday

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innsanex · 11 months

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I wanna write a geto x reader x toji based of the song area codes 😭

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linkemon · 24 days

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Munakata Souta x Reader

Resztę oneshotów z tej i innych serii możesz przeczytać tutaj. Zajrzyj też na moje Ko-fi.

Some of these oneshots are already translated into English. You can find them here.

ᴋɪʟᴋᴀ ʀᴏᴢᴍᴏ́ᴡ ᴏ sᴏᴜᴄɪᴇ ᴢ ʀᴏ́ᴢ̇ɴʏᴍɪ ᴏsᴏʙᴀᴍɪ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀᴇ ᴘᴏᴍᴀɢᴀᴊᴀ̨ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴢʀᴏᴢᴜᴍɪᴇᴄ́, ᴢ̇ᴇ ᴘʀᴢᴇɢᴀᴘɪᴌᴀ sᴡᴏᴊᴀ̨ sᴢᴀɴsᴇ̨ ɪ ᴘᴏʀᴀ ᴛᴏ ɴᴀᴘʀᴀᴡɪᴄ́.

ᴡ ᴄᴢᴀsɪᴇ ᴘɪsᴀɴɪᴇ ᴛᴇɢᴏ, ғɪʟᴍ ʙʏᴌ ᴊᴇsᴢᴄᴢᴇ ᴡ ᴘᴏʟsᴋɪᴇᴊ ᴅʏsᴛʀʏʙᴜᴄᴊɪ ᴋɪɴᴏᴡᴇᴊ. ɴɪᴇ ᴍɪᴀᴌᴀᴍ ɴᴀ ᴛʏʟᴇ ᴅᴏʙʀᴇᴊ ᴘᴀᴍɪᴇ̨ᴄɪ ʙʏ ᴜᴢ̇ʏᴄ́ ᴏʀʏɢɪɴᴀʟɴᴇɢᴏ ᴢᴀᴋʟᴇ̨ᴄɪᴀ ᴢᴀᴍʏᴋᴀᴊᴀ̨ᴄᴇɢᴏ ᴅʀᴢᴡɪ ᴀɴɪ ᴢɴᴀʟᴇᴢ́ᴄ́ ɢᴏ ᴡ ᴘᴏʟsᴋɪᴇᴊ ᴡᴇʀsᴊɪ, ᴡɪᴇ̨ᴄ ᴢᴏsᴛᴀᴌᴏ ᴍɪ ᴘʀᴢᴇᴛᴌᴜᴍᴀᴄᴢᴇɴɪᴇ ᴢ ᴋᴀᴡᴀᴌᴋᴏ́ᴡ ᴀɴɢɪᴇʟsᴋɪᴇᴊ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴌᴏ sɪᴇ̨ ᴢɴᴀʟᴇᴢ́ᴄ́ ɴᴀ ɴᴇᴄɪᴇ.

ғʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʏᴋᴏʀᴢʏsᴛᴀɴᴇᴊ ᴘɪᴏsᴇɴᴋɪ ᴢ ʟᴀᴛ 80. ᴛᴏ ғʟʏᴅᴀʏ ᴄʜɪɴᴀᴛᴏᴡɴ ɴᴀʟᴇᴢ̇ᴀ̨ᴄʏ ᴅᴏ ʏᴀsᴜʜʏ.

[Reader] spojrzała na śmiejącego się Hitsujirō. Było w tym dźwięku coś znajomego. W pierwszej chwili nie była nawet w stanie określić, co dokładnie. Kiedy wreszcie to do niej dotarło, poczuła ciężar w okolicy serca. Dziadek Sōty miał dokładnie ten sam śmiech, co jego wnuk. Rozlewający się po szpitalnym pomieszczeniu niczym promień jasnego światła w ciemnym pokoju. Jednak była w nim jakaś gorzka nuta. Jakby nigdy nie wierzył, że jego potomek mógł cokolwiek zrobić dobrze, i fakt, że wreszcie nastąpiła katastrofa, był zabawny.

— To nie jest śmieszne! — wykrzyczała z wyrzutem.

Czuła, jak gorące łzy skapują jej po policzkach. Te, które kumulowały się w niej od dwóch tygodni. Zaczynała rozumieć, dlaczego Sōta rzadko odwiedzał dziadka. Bronienie się przed nim rękami i nogami nagle nabrało sensu. Był świetnym zaklinaczem, ale niezbyt dobrym członkiem rodziny.

***

Dobrze pamiętała pierwszy raz, gdy spotkała Munakatę. Był wtedy jeszcze nastolatkiem. Nie całkiem wprawnym w sztuce zamykania przejść. Gdyby postawiono ich przy sobie, zdecydowanie widać byłoby, że to [Reader] ma większe doświadczenie.

Nigdy wcześniej nie była w Tottori. Zmęczona długą podróżą, wierzyła, że będzie miała czas odpocząć. Rodzina zarezerwowała jej nawet wygodny pensjonat. Jednak gdy na horyzoncie pojawiły się znajome czerwone smugi, wiedziała, że nie będzie jej to dane. Czarne drobinki pyłu w powietrzu śmierdziały zniszczeniem. Pachniały świeżą ziemią i śmiercią.

Zanim dobiegła na miejsce, ogromna dżdżownica już wiła się w górę. Jak zawsze szykowała się, by spaść. Przynosząc ze sobą trzęsienie ziemi i pochłaniając setki żyć. [Reader] szczerze zdziwiła cudza obecność. Cała jej najbliższa rodzina należała do zaklinaczy. Choć nigdy nie wykluczali, że istnieje więcej osób, takich jak oni, nie miała okazji takowych spotkać. Dlatego widok Sōty był szokujący.

To był pierwszy raz w życiu, gdy stwierdziła, że coś zaparło jej dech w piersiach. Było to dość szalone. W końcu biegła przez opuszczone, suche pola ryżowe wprost w stronę niebezpieczeństwa. A jednak w Munakacie widziała jedynie spokój. I, choć drzwi do silosu za nic nie chciały się ruszyć, stawiał im czoła. Krok za krokiem, walcząc z obezwładniającą siłą otchłani.

Dopadła drzwi, zapierając się nogami z całych sił. Gdy skrzydło lekko drgnęło, wiedziała, że za chwilę będzie po wszystkim.

Długie, czarne włosy targane siłą huraganu zasłaniały twarz chłopaka. Wtedy jeszcze nie wiedziała, że kryją się za nimi błękitne tęczówki, przywodzące na myśl bezkresne jeziora w pogodny dzień. W jego ręce połyskiwał złoty klucz. Ten sam, który z wielkim trudem wbił w zmaterializowany zamek.

— O Wielcy Bogowie, którzy rządzicie pod ziemią, wy, którzy chroniliście ludzkość przez pokolenia… — nastolatek przekrzyczał wiatr.

[Reader] spojrzała na wyschnięte pola. W umyśle widziała to miejsce jak za dawnych lat. Zielone. Częściowo zanurzone w wodzie. Stała pośród ciężko pracujących ludzi, wkładających sadzonki ryżu na miejsca. Przekrzywiała kapelusz, odpowiadając na pozdrowienia sąsiadów. Szła na przerwę, by zjeść skromny obiad w towarzystwie rodziny.

Czuła zapach deszczu i ciepło słońca na twarzy. Chłód, gdy zanurzyła stopy w wolno płynącej wodzie. Śmiech bawiących się dzieci otaczał ją ze wszystkich stron. Niemal mogła dotknąć twarzy starszej kobiety, która uczyła ją, jak powinna zbierać plony.

W ułamku sekundy nastała martwa cisza i ciemność. Kiedyś to było miejsce pełne życia. Zanim mieszkańcy zdecydowali się je opuścić. Jak wiele innych na terenie Japonii.

Nieważne, ile razy to robiła, nigdy nie mogła się do tego przyzwyczaić. To było jak żegnanie żyć, których nigdy nie znała. Widziała jedynie skrawki, a chciała poznać je wszystkie. Bo zapomnienie było jak przyznanie, że miejsce już dawno nie żyło.

— …góry i rzeki, które zwiemy naszymi, przyjmijcie z powrotem! — zakończyła dziewczyna, przekręcając klucz.

— Nie wiedziałem, że ktoś jeszcze potrafi zamykać drzwi — stwierdził zdziwiony chłopak. — W każdym razie, dziękuję za pomoc. — Głos wydawał się nieść echem w ciszy, która zapadła po ustaniu huraganu.

— Ja też nie miałam pojęcia — przyznała [Reader].

— Munakata Sōta. — Ukłonił się grzecznościowo.

***

Dziewczyna powinna była się spodziewać, że tak to się skończy. Zaspała, bo późną nocą zamknęła drzwi oddalone od Tokio, a pociąg powrotny potwornie się spóźnił. Teraz, na wpół zaspana, wypadła z mieszkania. Na szczęścia Serizawa nigdy nie był nigdzie na czas, więc choć raz mógł jej pomóc dostać się na drugi koniec miasta. Ostatni raz sprawdziła, czy ma wszystko w torebce. Nie zdążyła niczego zjeść rano, ale kierowca obiecał jej, że nie będzie głodna.

— Ty i twoja definicja śniadania — jęknęła ostentacyjnie.

— Nigdy nie powiedziałem, że to zdrowe śniadanie. — Serizawa uśmiechnął się szeroko.

Podał jej do ręki puszkę energetyka, którą przyjęła z cichą rezygnacją. Tak to właśnie się zaczyna. Je się byle co, a potem przestaje jeść śniadania w ogóle. Przyszły nauczyciel powinien wprowadzać zdrowe nawyki żywieniowe. Tymczasem dawał zupełnie odwrotny przykład.

Wsiadła do auta i zapięła pasy. Chłopakowi jak zwykle się nie spieszyło. Wyglądał na cudownie wyspanego. Z namaszczeniem wcisnął guzik radia. Odkąd kupił swój czerwony wóz, stał się nie do zniesienia na jego punkcie. Każdy znajomy musiał go obejrzeć. Wszyscy dookoła znali jego specyfikacje techniczne na pamięć. Nie mieli wyboru.

— It's So Fly-Day, Fly-Day China Town! — rozległo się z głośnika.

Dziewczyna skierowała dłoń w stronę zawieszonego na uchwycie smartfona. Dostała gwałtownie po łapach, gdy już miała zmienić piosenkę. Nie istniały żadne inne kawałki niż te ze świętych playlist. Lata 80. I 90. były rejonami władającymi sercem Serizawy od zawsze. I tak już chyba miało pozostać.

Student zaczął głośno śpiewać, więc wyłączyła mózg, popijając energetyka. Zbierało się na deszcz. Nad ulicami Tokio zawisły ciężkie chmury. Odbijały się w przezroczystych wieżowcach centrum. Korek dał jej szansę na podziwianie wściekle czerwonego światła blokującego im szansę na minięcie kolejnej ulicy. Jak na złość, obok nich stał samochód pełen młodzieży. Banda zaczęła nabijać się z głośnego śpiewu. Wyglądali na wagarowiczów. Serizawa wdał się z nimi w żywą dyskusję, w której doszło między innymi do wymiany wielu słów na temat matek.

— To jak, ruszyło coś w końcu? — spytał chłopak, dodając gazu.

— Przecież widzisz, że jedziemy.

O tak. Granie głupiej zdecydowanie było dobrym pomysłem.

— Nie udawaj. — Serizawa sugestywnie spojrzał na nią znad okularów.

— Nic nie ruszyło, poza tym korkiem. Koniec tematu — skwitowała [Reader].

Cisza nie trwała długo. Kierowca stracił zainteresowanie śpiewem. Teraz interesowała go jedna, jedyna rzecz. Wiedziała, że nie odpuści, dopóki nie dojdzie do sedna sprawy.

— Czemu mu nie powiedziałaś? — Odpowiedziała mu jedynie cisza. — Jak mi nie powiesz, będę jechał czterdzieści na godzinę i nigdy nie zdążysz. — Uśmiechnął się złośliwie.

— Tak? Trudno się mówi. Na szczęście się przygotowałam. Wygląda na to, że zaczyna padać. Z racji, że szyberdach ciągle jest zepsuty, wzięłam parasol. Pora go rozłożyć.

[Reader] istotnie wyciągnęła z torebki parasol. Wyglądało to co najmniej idiotycznie. Czerwone, sportowe auto, a nad nim kolorowa parasolka. Niewiele to dawało, bo krople deszczu wciąż spadały na ich twarze, ale przynajmniej czubki głów mieli suche.

— Co ty robisz? HEJ! Chowaj to w tej chwili. Wystraszysz wszystkie laski, jak dojedziemy na miejsce!

No tak. Bo dziewczyny na pewno będą stały na parkingu w ulewnym deszczu. Ujrzenie takiego auta, chlapiącego wodą na prawo i lewo, musiało być szczytem ich marzeń.

Dziewczyna z uporem trzymała rękę w górze. Kałuże stawały się coraz większe, a krople coraz cięższe. Dźwięki piosenek mieszały się z szumem deszczu. Przechodnie patrzyli na nich jak na wariatów, spiesząc, by schować się w pobliskich sklepach i na przystankach.

— Dokąd jedziesz? — spytała dziewczyna, czując narastający niepokój.

To zdecydowanie nie była znana jej droga.

— Nie mogę się tak pokazać na miejscu, więc będziemy robić kółka, aż nabierzesz rozumu. To moja nowa metoda wychowawcza — stwierdził Serizawa.

— Mam nadzieję, że nie dadzą ci żadnego dziecka pod opiekę — stwierdziła [Reader].

Krążyli w kółka, niczym dwa chomiki w kołowrotku. Paliwo nie było tanie i pasażerka zastanawiała się, ile jeszcze kilometrów zrobią, zanim kierowca się złamie.

Mokre chodniki błyszczały, odbijając światło bilbordów znanych marek. Nieliczne drzewka posadzone wzdłuż ulicy uginały się pod naporem wody. Zdawały się strząsać z siebie wszystkie krople. Powietrze pachniało wilgocią. Było duszne i ciężkie, zwiastując, że to tylko przelotna ulewa i za niedługo ustąpi miejsca słońcu.

— No to czemu sprawa dalej stoi w miejscu? — ponowił pytanie Serizawa.

— Ale jesteś upierdliwy! — [Reader] schowała parasol, pozwalając ulewie się do nich dostać. — Dobra, skoro ci tak bardzo zależy, to sprawa stoi w miejscu, bo stchórzyłam. Zadowolony? — Oparła głowę o łokieć.

Chłopak westchnął, ale z powrotem zawrócił na właściwą trasę.

— Czego się boisz? Friendzone’u? Przecież widać, że was do siebie ciągnie — oznajmił Serizawa.

Rzeczywiście była to prawda. Subtelne muśnięcia dłoni. Nieśmiałe uśmiechy podczas komplementów. Niby przyjacielskie uściski. Spędzali wspólnie dużo czasu. Zdecydowanie więcej niż tylko przyjaciele. Od dnia, kiedy spotkała Munakatę pierwszy raz, wiedziała, że to będzie dla niej ktoś więcej. Jednak gdy przychodziła pora na to, by pchnąć relację do przodu, nie miała na to odwagi.

— On jeden mnie naprawdę rozumie. Jeśli nam nie wyjdzie, to go stracę — mruknęła.

W istocie tak było. Sōta był jedyną osobą spoza rodziny, która rozumiała ją jako zaklinacz. Patrzył na świat odrobinę inaczej niż wszyscy. Dotykały go te same problemy i trudności. Co sprawiało, że łatwo było im sobie pomagać, a jeszcze łatwiej się do siebie przywiązać. Z tego samego powodu jednak czuła, że utrata bolałaby równie mocno.

— Jak wam nie wyjdzie, możecie…

— …zostać przyjaciółmi? — [Reader] weszła mu w słowo. — Chyba sam w to nie wierzysz.

Chłopak przytaknął po chwili namysłu.

— Tylko nie czekaj za długo — stwierdził Serizawa, wjeżdżając na parking.

***

— [Reader], heeej, [Reader]! — Kobieta stojąca za ladą machała energicznie.

Dziewczyna wolała uniknąć zbędnej konfrontacji i iść od razu iść na górę, jednak nie miała wyboru. Westchnęła cicho i zajrzała do sklepiku. Wiecznie przeklinała Munakatę za wybór mieszkania w tej dzielnicy. Było w Tokio. Powinno wręcz krzyczeć anonimowością. Tymczasem tutaj każdy znał każdego i wiedział wszystko o wszystkich. W dodatku na dole bloku stał sklepik całodobowy prowadzony przez dwie podstarzałe kobiety i studentkę w jej wieku. To było jak wysokiej klasy osiedlowy monitoring. Niestety nie można go było wyłączyć na życzenie. A czasem by się przydało. Szczególnie że każda z pracownic wręcz uwielbiała Sōtę i śledziła jego ruchy jak tylko mogła. Kupił w innym sklepie? Zarzucą mu następnym razem, że więcej nie dostanie zniżki albo celowo oznajmią, że brakuje towaru. Przyprowadził [Reader]? Wypytają ją od razu, czy jest jego dziewczyną, bo same mają wnuczki, które byłyby zainteresowane potencjalnym kawalerem. Śpieszą się gdzieś z Munakatą? Już nie! Pora na nowe ploteczki z okolicy…

— Dzień dobry — przywitała się dziewczyna niezbyt entuzjastycznie.

Czuła, że pierwszym pytaniem, jakie dziś padnie, będzie: Gdzie jest…

— Gdzie jest nasz mały Sōta? — wyparowała cioteczka prosto z mostu.

[Reader] nawet nie próbowała zwrócić uwagi, że nazywanie dwudziestodwuletniego wysokiego mężczyzny małym nie miało sensu.

— Nie mam pojęcia — przyznała szczerze.

Sama próbowała to ustalić od kilku dni, rwąc sobie włosy z głowy. Munakata wysłał tylko jedną krótką wiadomość. Nie odpowiadał na żadne sms-y ani nie oddzwaniał. Jego social media również były martwe. Nie wiedziała, dokąd tym razem pojechał. Nie zawsze zdawali sobie wzajemnie relacje z tego, gdzie akurat zamykali przejścia. Teraz bardzo tego żałowała. Zdarzało się mu wcześniej znikać bez kontaktu, ale nigdy na tak długo.

Cioteczka rozgadała się o tym, jak naprzeciwko zaczął się remont ulicy. Potem o jakimś białym kocie, który podbijał serca wszystkich internautów ([Reader] była niemal pewna, że to dorabiająca studentka musiała jej go pokazać). Potem zaś przeszła do tego, jak nieodpowiedzialna ta młodzież, że sami podróżują w młodym wieku…

— Co do tej okropnej młodzieży — wtrąciła [Reader]. — Słyszałam, że kuzynka Sōty zatrzymała się u niego w mieszkaniu.

— Dałam jej zapasowe klucze. — Kobieta lekceważąco machnęła ręką. — Roztrzepana trochę, nie to co nasz Sōta…

— Dokładnie — przyznała [Reader] zawzięcie przytakując. — I właśnie z tego powodu muszę do niej zajrzeć. — Z tymi słowami wybiegła przed sklep, zanim cioteczka znalazła nowy temat do rozmowy.

Droga na górę była znajoma. Przeskakiwała po dwa stopnie naraz, wbiegając po schodach.

Zastukała w drzwi z całej siły. Odpowiedziała jej głucha cisza. Zapukała ponownie.

— Jestem [Reader]! Serizawa powiedział mi, że przyjechałaś i że jesteś kuzynką Sōty.

Nastała chwila ciszy, po której dało się słyszeć coraz to głośniejsze kroki. Za drzwiami pojawiła się młoda dziewczyna. Nastolatka w pośpiechu zaprosiła [Reader] do środka. Skłoniła się nisko, machając przy tym ciemnym kucykiem.

Musiała przyznać, że wbrew słowom cioteczki dziewczyna chyba miała trochę oleju w głowie. W końcu nie otworzyła z marszu obcej osobie.

— Nazywam się Iwato Suzume, [Reader]-san. — Skłoniła się.

— Nie trzeba aż tak formalnie. Jesteśmy w podobnym wieku — uspokoiła ją kobieta, widząc, jak niepewnie krząta się dziewczyna.

[Reader] zajęła miejsce na niewielkiej sofie. Mieszkanie było mikroskopijne, ale lubiła je. Kojarzyło jej się z biblioteczką starych książek o zaklinaczach, których nigdy nie chciało jej się czytać. Ze stertami podręczników do pedagogiki, które Munakata kochała studiować od deski do deski. Z podniszczonym dywanem w śmieszne wzory, poplamionym sosem sojowym. Z niedziałającą żarówką, której właściciel nie chciał wymienić, przez co wieczorami zawsze siedzieli w półmroku. Z zapachem świeżo parzonej kawy i męskich perfum. To mieszkanie wręcz było Sōtą. Nie wiedziała, czy to jej profesja nakazuje jej wiązać miejsca z ludźmi. Może po części tak było. Teraz jednak była pewna, że będąc tu, mocniej niż dotąd odczuła brak mężczyzny.

— Więc… emmm… mogę zapytać, co panią… znaczy co ciebie tu sprowadza?

Nastolatka nie wydawała się przekonana do używania tylko jej imienia.

— Serizawa pewnie powiedział ci to samo, ale szukam Sōty.

— Przysięgam, że nie wiem, gdzie jest — zarzekła się dziewczyna.

Przyznała to trochę za szybko jak na gust [Reader]. Z drugiej jednak strony, widząc, jak się miota, stwierdziła, że może po prostu czuła się niekomfortowo w towarzystwie obcej osoby.

Szczególnie, że to Serizawa był pierwszym człowiekiem, którego spotkała tego popołudnia. W głębi duszy miał dobre serce, jednak zdecydowanie nie zyskiwał przy pierwszym spotkaniu. Był głośny. Zawsze domagał się tego, czego chciał. Otaczała go niezmiennie aura jakiegoś nieopisanego, wesołego chaosu. Pachniał papierosami, pomimo tego, że głosił, że jako przyszły nauczyciel, „ udupi” każdego, kto spróbuje zapalić pod jego nosem. Podążał też za nim zapach paliwa, które hektolitrami wlewał do swojego ukochanego, wymuskanego samochodu. Koloru tak czerwonego jak jego temperament. Jeśli to jego Suzume zobaczyła jako pierwszego, nic dziwnego, że nie za wiele pomogła.

— Rozumiem, ale… miałam nadzieję, że może wiesz cokolwiek. Nie pojawiał się tu od dłuższego czasu. Musiałaś jakoś się z nim skontaktować, żeby przyjechać.

— Nie umawiałam się z nim wcześniej. Byłam w okolicy i potrzebowałam na chwilę odpocząć. Wiedziałam, żeby w razie czego odebrać klucze na dole. To wszystko.

Kobieta poczuła, jak ulatuje z niej nadzieja.

— Ach tak… Nie będę ci więc przeszkadzać. — Zaczęła się zbierać do wyjścia.

— Pani… znaczy… martwisz się bardzo o Sōtę-sana? — Suzume spojrzała na nią szczerym i przenikliwym spojrzeniem.

— Pokłóciliśmy się zanim wyjechał.

[Reader] wróciła myślami do ich ostatniej rozmowy. Nie rozstali się wtedy w zbyt dobrej atmosferze. Wręcz beznadziejnej. Rzadko dochodziło między nimi do spięć. Obydwoje byli raczej spokojnymi ludźmi. Jednak w pracy zaklinaczy zawsze podążało za nimi ryzyko. Bo opuszczone miejsca rzadko były bezpieczne. Opustoszałe domy, zgliszcza i zalane tereny same w sobie nie były aż takim problemem, ale dżdżownica ciągnęła za sobą zgubę. Gdziekolwiek otwierały się drzwi, znajdywał się odór śmierci. Niezamknięte w porę przejścia zwiastowały trzęsienia ziemi. Jak długo mieli to robić? Aż do kresu sił? [Reader] nie mogła niczego w życiu zaplanować, bo wiecznie podążał za nią obowiązek. Sekret, o którym nie mogła rozmawiać. To, co kiedyś wydawało się przygodą, stało się nużące. Ile jeszcze cierpienia miała oglądać, wkładając klucz do niezliczonej liczby zamków?

Munakata nie podzielał jej zdania. Dla niego wszystko było szlachetnym przywilejem. Na tyle, by uważał za swój święty obowiązek domykanie kolejnych przejść. [Reader] niejednokrotnie zastanawiała się, czy ten punkt widzenia wpoił mu dziadek. Dopiero gdy później poznała Hitsujirō, zrozumiała, że to zdecydowanie nie było tak. Sōta po prostu nie chciał zostawiać ludzi w potrzebie i czuł, że nie ma zbyt wiele osób, które mogłyby go zastąpić. Nieważne, ile dawnych wspomnień o domach, centrach handlowych, barach, parkach rozrywki czy kapliczkach musiał oglądać.

I, choć rozumiał, dlaczego kobieta chciała od tego uciec, sam nie zamierzał tego robić. Nie chciał dać się przekonać, że może warto znaleźć inne osoby, które mogłyby pomóc, a z czasem wszystko zostawić w ich rękach. Twierdził, że nikt nie będzie w stanie zobaczyć dżdżownicy. A wystawianie kogokolwiek na oglądanie otchłani było zbyt niebezpieczne.

Padło kilka gorzkich słów. Kobieta wielokrotnie starała się odtworzyć w głowie konwersację, ale za żadne skarby nie była w stanie sobie ich przypomnieć. W pamięci został tylko zawiedziony wyraz twarzy Munakaty w ogarniętym półmrokiem mieszkaniu. Jego zgarbione ramiona i to, jak szybko odwrócił głowę. Być może po to, by nie widziała, że jest zły. A może po prostu nie chciał pokazać żadnej łzy. Nigdy nie widziała, by płakał, ale to mógł być pierwszy raz.

Tamtego wieczora uparcie wpatrywała się w komórkę, walcząc sama ze sobą, by nie zadzwonić. Po cichu liczyła też na to, że może zdjęcie mężczyzny pojawi się na wyświetlaczu. Jednak nic takiego nie nastąpiło. A gdy zdecydowała się napisać następnego dnia, nie dostała odpowiedzi. Po jakimś czasie otrzymała jedynie suchego sms-a o treści:

Nic mi nie jest. Wszystko w porządku.

Nie brzmiało to jak coś, co piszą osoby, z którymi naprawdę nic się nie dzieje. W dodatku Serizawa nie dostał żadnej informacji. Munakata nie pojawił się na zajęciach, a dzisiaj opuścił egzamin dopuszczający do zostania pedagogiem. Coś, do czego dążył przez tak długi czas.

— Zanim wyjechał… powiedziałam kilka rzeczy, których teraz żałuję. To chyba normalne troszczyć się o kogoś, kogo się kocha, prawda? — [Reader] potarła skroń.

Cóż. Wreszcie przyznała to głośno w mieszkaniu Sōty. Szkoda tylko, że w takich okolicznościach. Nawet jeśli kuzynka miała mu o tym powiedzieć, nie było to już takie ważne. Chciała po prostu zobaczyć go całego i zdrowego.

— O-oczywiście — zająknęła się dziewczyna.

Jej wzrok powiódł do krzesełka. Pomalowanego na żółto, z tylko trzema nogami. Dziwnego, małego mebelka opartego o stos książek, który przewrócił się niezgrabnie z hałasem.

— Nigdy go tu nie widziałam. Może to projekt na studia.

Miałoby to sens. Niektóre prace wykonywane na zajęcia z najmłodszymi przybierały czasem dziwne, artystyczne formy.

Nie była w stanie powiedzieć, co nakazało jej podejść do krzesełka. Gdy go dotknęła, wydawało się ciepłe. Dwie dziurki wyrzeźbione w drewnie wydawały się wpatrywać w nią niczym oczy. Dość znajome, o barwie błękitu. Zamrugała kilkukrotnie. Tęsknota chyba powoli zaczynała ją przerastać.

— To moje — wtrąciła Iwato, podnosząc mebelek.

[Reader] kiwnęła głową.

— Jeśli będziesz miała jakikolwiek kontakt z Sōtą, przekaż mu proszę, żeby się odezwał — poprosiła kobieta, łapiąc za klamkę.

— [Reader]?

— Tak?

— Jestem pewna, że nic mu nie jest i że niedługo się spotkacie…

***

— Ta mała… jak jej było? Suzume… Powiedziałem, żeby dała sobie spokój, ale stwierdziła, że go wyciągnie.

A więc jednak. To nie była kuzynka. I wiedziała dokładnie, gdzie był Sōta.

— Jak ona chce…? — Niewypowiedziane pytanie zawisło gdzieś w powietrzu. — Zresztą nieważne. Muszę tylko wiedzieć, gdzie teraz jest. Znajdę ją. Nieważne, co będę musiała zrobić. — Z tymi słowami [Reader] głośno trzasnęła szpitalnymi drzwiami.

Głupek Serizawa miał rację. Za długo zwlekała z wyznaniem swoich uczuć. A teraz Sōta tkwił tam gdzieś w otchłani, całkiem sam. Musiała go odszukać i wyciągnąć. A potem wszystko mu powie i nie będzie żadnych niedopowiedzeń. Już nigdy.

#munakata souta x reader #suzume no tojimari x reader #oneshot x reader #suzume's locking up x reader #suzume

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rougepancake · 1 year

Text

Desire

Akaza x Afab!DemonSlayer!Reader

A/N: Zesty?? (Yes.) Borderline smut?? (Maybe??) Language will be used along with sexual themes. Mentions of character death (minor characters), gore, and violence. Minors and ageless blogs please do not interact, I will have no choice but to block you if you do. Not proofread (because that’s a thing I do-). And with that, enjoy!

Summary: You were sent out on a mission to investigate the disappearances of local men in a mysterious village with nothing but a handful of tsuchinoto by your side. But soon your tsuchinoto are taken from you and you’re left facing an upper moon who wants nothing more than for you to become a demon with him. And he refuses to leave you alone until you do so.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think the demon here is going to be like?” One of your pupils, Suzume Takagi, asked excitedly. You and your small group trudged through the most dense forest you’ve ever seen while on your way to a local village. Apparently, there had been a large reported number of men going missing in the area and Ubuyashiki had thought it was a demon’s doing. So here you were, entertaining a bunch of tsuchinoto while constantly getting hit in the face by random tree branches.

“Oh well I don’t know,” you sighed, ducking underneath some vines. “But I do find it incredibly odd that it’s only targeting men…” you trailed off and Suzume looked at you, her eyes wide. “Maybe the demon has a grudge against them? Something that happened during their human life that they want to get revenge for in their demon one?”

“Oh Y/N!” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “That’s the best idea ever! You’re so smart!” Suzume giggled and ran over to where the other tsuchinoto were to tell them what you had just told her. You didn’t know why, but they seemingly worshipped you. Maybe it was because you were a kinoe? The fact that you were roughly their age and bordering being referred to as a hashira definitely had something to do with it.

They were a great bunch though, they each had the potential to climb up the ranks as you had done. You just hoped they lived long enough to get there.

Once you had arrived at the village, you gave the tsuchinoto permission to separate and ask locals about the disappearances that had been happening. Suzume was ecstatic to be able to work on her own, mainly because she wanted to show off for you, but as long as she was working, it was all good.

Hours had passed since your group had split up and the sun had just set, meaning that the demons were coming out to play. From your hiding spot in the trees, you could even see a couple of them prowling around. You hummed, those demons weren’t the one behind the disappearances. You put your back to the tree and lifted your head up, slowing your breathing so you would be able to sense when this demon arrived.

A nearby scream snapped you from your thoughts. It sounded like it was a- woman! “Oh my god Suzume!” You frantically spun around, desperately looking for your tsuchinoto. “Suzume?!” Just then, another scream rang out, almost in response to your call, but it wasn’t Suzume. It was another member of your group. “Oh my god.” You mumbled to yourself, falling to your knees in horror. You brought your hands up to your hands and buried it in them. “Oh my fucking god.”

You screamed at the top of your lungs in pain. This was the first time you had ever been sent out with a group and you failed to protect them. They looked up to you. They respected you greatly. Hell, they trusted you to keep them safe, and you failed to do so. Your newfound rage was overwhelming you, and it led you to make a promise to avenge them.

In a split second, you took off into the forest with the same speed as a hashira and slayed any demon that crossed your path. Your rage had turned you into a heartless monster. You killed them, and with a smile on your face. You didn’t care about their pasts, the troubles that they had endured before they became demons. You didn’t care when they begged for mercy when you attacked them, you didn’t even bother to hear them out. In fact, you left a good handful of them staked to the tops of trees so they could get a final glimpse of the sunlight before they died for good. You didn’t care that they had called you horrible names before you lopped off their stupid little heads, it made no difference to you. You didn’t care because those demons didn’t care when they killed your comrades.

You stood in silence, wearing a deranged smile as you watched the last demon’s body fade away into nonexistence. Even after it’s body had gone, you just stood there, your blade in one hand and part of Suzume’s uniform in the other. Your exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, forcing you to resort to using your katana as a cane.

Your entire body was shaking, making it even harder to maintain your balance. Panting heavily, you made your way over to a nearby tree so you could rest. But you didn’t dare to let yourself fall asleep, since you were being watched.

You had felt the burning stare of this stranger since you had been standing in the tree, but yet they were masking their presence, practically in hiding. “Coward,” you hissed, grabbing your side in pain. In the state you were in, you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground against whoever was watching you.

“Pardon me?” A man’s voice asked, his voice coming from the same direction as the stare. “Did you say, coward?” He slowly emerged from the bushes as he spoke, finally revealing himself to you.

“I did,” you glared, quickly getting to your feet. Sure it hurt like hell, but you weren’t about to look weak in front of your opponent. You channeled your breathing and stood tall. “But I guess you aren’t all that cowardly if you rose to the challenge.” You taunted.

His yellow eyes glimmered mischievously in the moonlight, which was about the only thing that you were able to see other than his muscular form. His eyes read “upper six”, which meant that he was a hashira killer, and a real threat to your life. “I can see that you’re injured terribly,” he feigned empathy with a smirk, crossing his arms and observing your reaction.

“Just a scratch,” you shrugged.

“It’s a shame, I’ve been wanting to fight you for so long and by the time I get to you, you’re injured.” He sighed, mocking you. “You poor thing.”

“Watching me?!” You were surprised that you hadn’t noticed sooner. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at how he was trying to mess with you. “Yeah right, I would have noticed that.” Your tone was overconfident, causing the demon to chuckle.

“Then why didn’t you?” He tilted his head, smirking. He took one step closer to you, moving to take another, but you stopped him, your blade poking at his neck.

“You’re bluffing.” In a swift move, you disappeared, appearing behind him and making your move to lop off his head. He turned around to meet your gaze with a smile and stopped your katana with his hand.

“Wow wow! You’re so much stronger than I had imagined!” He said excitedly, looking at his injured hand sadistically. He brought it up to his tongue and licked away his trickling blood before it could heal. “I simply must know, what is your name?”

“If you’ve been watching me for some time then how come you don’t know it?” You questioned sarcastically. You were doing your best to keep your strength, but your legs were beginning to shake and you were beginning to sway slightly.

“Now Y/N I don’t need you dying on me,” he smirked, catching you when your legs gave in. The demon bent down so you could rest your head atop his lap, and since you were now immobilized, you couldn’t run from what he was about to tell you. “I have no intentions of killing you, it goes against my personal standards,” he began resting his palm gently on your forehead, recoiling at how warm you were.

“Then why are you here? What do you want from me?” Your voice was weak and shaky, you were afraid of what was going to happen next. Clearly this demon was unpredictable if he wasn’t going to kill you.

“Oh don’t be too worried,” he sighed, his tone arrogant. “I just wish for you to become a demon.” You saw his eyes light up and his smile grow at the mention of such a thought. “Just imagine how strong you would be! And you could fight me as many times as you’d like! Maybe you could even become an upper moon like me!” His eyes met yours, the excitement fading from them as he saw that you weren’t as happy as he was.

“I would rather die.” You laughed, right in his face, proving your loyalty to the demon slayer corps, which annoyed him. He dug his fist into your ribs, causing you to cry out in pain. You tried to grab your sword, but he got to it first and threw it to the side.

“Are you sure about that?” He teased. You could see the malice shining through his yellow eyes, it was practically blinding.

You coughed, blood trickling down your chin as you smiled confidently up at him. “Of course. If you had really been watching me, you would have known that I wouldn’t fall for it.”

The demon snarled, pushing your head off of his lap and rising to his feet. His aura had changed, no longer showing pure hatred, but rather slight sadness. He avoided your eyes and clenched his fists in false anger.

“I can promise you, Y/N, you will see me again. I won’t stop until you give in to my request. And if you happen to change your mind while I’m not around, call out the name Akaza, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” You saw him vanish before your body gave in to your exhaustion, leaving you unconscious on the forest floor.

“Hello? Hello can you hear me?” A kakushi called out to you, their voice frantic. “Ma’am?!” They shook you into consciousness, eyes lighting up with relief when you returned their stare. They looked behind them and called out to another kakushi excitedly, “She’s alive! We should take her back to Lady Kocho right away!”

“How badly is she wounded?” The other kakushi came over to inspect you.

“A handful of broken ribs and some scars here and there, it really is a miracle that she survived.” They turned to face you, eyes gleaming. “When we saw that you had taken out every demon in this area, we were all amazed! Even Lady Kocho was surprised!” They continued to tell their story, but you were far too out of it to pay attention.

“My… head… is… killing… me,” you spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh don’t worry ma’am, Lady Kocho is on her way! She was just inspecting the damage to the area, once she’s finished up, she’ll take you back to her estate and you’ll be feeling better in no time I’m sure!”

You sighed weakly, closing your eyes to rest once again. You had used too much energy and ended up overestimating your abilities.

You heard the light footsteps of who you assumed to be Lady Kocho, she spoke to you in a gentle tone, explaining sweetly how you were going to be taken care of, and instead of being at her estate, you were going to be taken back to yours since she no longer had any room in her infirmary.

It was the last thing you remembered before you blacked out again and woke up in your own bed.

Your abdomen was bandaged and wrapped tightly, and you were already starting to feel better, but it was just bs because you had broken multiple ribs and obviously needed more time to recover. But as soon as you found yourself recovering, you took it upon yourself to train heavily.

You had even created new moves for your breathing style, ones that were much more powerful than your last. You were sure that these ones would take out that demon the next time he appeared.

Now, it was dusk, and you were still perfecting your 12th form to mist breathing, sweat dripping down your cheeks. You had taken a little break so you could observe the sunset, and it was simply beautiful.

You had finally cleared your mind, and now you were free to enjoy the beauty of the life around you, but your enjoyment was cut short when you saw the yellow eyes of Akaza in the distance. He was still watching you, hoping that you’d join him as a demon. You thought he was crazy, since he was literally watching you train to kill him and he still wanted you to be his gal pal.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, putting away your training gear before heading back inside your estate. You felt his burning gaze as you did so, but thankfully you were inside the confines of your house.

“What the hell?!” You wiped your brow and cautiously peered out your window. His eyes continued to gleam in the moonlight, which only made you nervous. “God take a hint.” You went to your bedroom and began to undress so you could bathe in a nearby pond, even if he was watching. It made no difference to you, as long as you were nice and clean.

It was far from safe, but you couldn’t have cared less.

“Maybe the sight of me naked will scare him away,” you laughed to yourself, sliding your robe over your bare shoulders and sliding on some decent slippers before walking out the door. You kept your katana with you, making sure Akaza could see that even if you were vulnerable, you still bore a weapon. And your weapon made you a threat.

Once you were emerged in the water, you felt yourself relax, the weight of your troubles finally lifting off your shoulders. You lifted your head, admiring the beautiful stars above you. You were thankful that you were still able to admire them, unlike Suzume and the others. A tear fell down your cheek at the memory of your comrades.

“Oh? What’s wrong Y/N?” A familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. In the water, directly across from you, sat Akaza, wearing nothing but a shit-eating grin.

You glared at him before you returned to your stargazing. “What do you want?” You were pissed, but you couldn’t run out because of how vulnerable you would be. Plus, you had to pretend like him being bare ass naked didn’t bother you.

“I’ve come to see if you’ve changed your mind at all.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. The sound of water swishing around reached your ears, he was moving towards you. You shuddered when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder gently, leaning in so he could whisper in your ear. “Have you~?”

You quickly pushed him away, laughing in his face. “You’ve got some nerve. You do know that I have the power to kill you, right? I’ve recovered since our last meeting.” You sunk deeper into the water, trying to keep yourself covered while maintaining your threatening aura.

“Then why don’t you?” Akaza leaned forward, chuckling when you stumbled back. “I’ve been watching you, and I know you’ve seen me, so why haven’t you killed me yet?” He was clearly mocking you, doing his best to provoke you into fighting him. It was working.

You were furious, and it looks could kill, the one you were giving him right now would send him six feet under. “Fuck off. You’re making me regret sparing your life.” Your mind was racing with all the possible ways you could get to your sword and keep your dignity at the same time. Thankfully, there was one form of mist breathing that didn’t require your blade.

“Mist breathing: eighth form!” You called out, staring into Akaza’s eyes. “Steam!” This form was one that bordered both the water and flame breathing styles, and it allowed you full coverage so you could hop out, slide on your robe, and prepare for battle.

The eighth form of mist breathing causes any nearby water to boil intensely, causing steam to rise and the victim’s skin to burn. It was a form that you yourself had come up with, one that no one else knew. It demonstrated your undeniable abilities, only making Akaza desire you more.

You heard him cry out in pain, along with the violent sloshing of water. “What’s wrong?” You taunted. “Does it hurt?”

“Just a little~” He whispered in your ear, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’re so strong Y/N! I can’t wait to fight you!” The demon hugged you from behind, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck off, you god damned perv!” You shouted, widely swinging your katana. He smiled at you, easily dodging your attack. You continued to chase him, not yet ready to use your mist breathing. You needed to be sure you’d be able to get a hit in before you could do so, and he was making it incredibly hard to do so.

Before you knew it, you had cut off his arm and he was on the ground, your foot on his chest.

You didn’t dare to look anywhere but his eyes, but you couldn’t ignore how muscular he was. He had to have let you win just now, because there was no way that you would have beat him otherwise. It was painfully clear what he was trying to do to you, a demon chasing after a woman after being deprived of sex for so long, it only made you hate him more. But it did strike curiosity in you.

“Why exactly do you want me to become a demon?” You questioned, the blade of your katana pressed against his throat.

Akaza laughed, his eyes lighting up as he stared at you. “I can’t believe you’re actually considering it no- ack!” You put more pressure on the katana, causing blood to trickle down his neck onto the grass. It was a clear sign for him to get to the point, but you could see something else in his eyes that definitely wasn’t pain. In fact, if you hadn’t known any better, you would have said that he had moaned at the contact.

“God damn it, why am I wasting my time on you,” you rolled your eyes, and instead of putting pressure on your katana, you put all your weight onto the foot holding him down. It knocked the wind out of him and you heard another moan pass through his lips.

“S-say my name.” He smirked, bringing his hands slowly up to your bare leg, caressing it gently. “M-maybe then I’ll tell you.”

The feeling of his calloused hands on your calf caused you to shudder in a way that you didn’t know was possible. It seemed that whenever he handled you he was gentle, despite his demonic being. You found it incredibly odd, but you couldn’t help but want to see where this was going to go.

You could feel the tension in the air grow, nearly suffocating you. With a sigh, you looked at him and shook his hands off of your leg. “What if I forgot it? Am I just signing up for something blindly then?”

“Oh I know damn well you have yet to forget the name of the demon who has you strung up like this.” Akaza smirked, propping himself up onto one elbow. His response took you by surprise, allowing him to knock you off your feet and trap you underneath him this time. “I mean, look at you, I’ve been driving you crazy, haven’t I?”

You swallowed thickly, a heavy blush rushing to your cheeks. His arms were on either side of your head and he had one knee in between your legs, and to make things worse, he was still naked. You had done your best earlier to avoid looking past his waist so you wouldn’t end up being scarred for life but with the way you were laying it made it very, very, hard not to do so.

Of course, your self control wasn’t the only thing hard to keep in check. You could feel his large cock against the side of your leg, which only made you more embarrassed.

“Oooh~ is something wrong Y/N?” He leaned in close to your face, his warm breath hitting your neck. You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut. “You know, if you became a demon,” he started, reaching out his hand and forcing you to look into his eyes. “We could be together forever. I’d always be there to protect you and provide for you when you’re…” he looked you up and down, licking his lips. “Frustrated like this. You’ll never have to worry about death ever again, and you’ll be strong enough to beat me if you do so desire.”

You could feel your heartbeat going wild with every word he spoke, he sounded so damn convincing, and what the hell was he doing leaning in so close to you anyways?! You were convinced that he was going to use you, leaving you out to die somewhere when he was done.

“Y/N, I want you- no, I need you. I’ve felt this way since I first saw your true strength.” He rest his body against yours, embracing you tightly in his arms. Akaza buried his head in the crook of your neck and sighed heavily, you could almost feel the sadness in his tone. “And I won’t leave you alone until one of two things happens: you say yes and we live the rest of our lives together, or you continue to refuse and you die naturally.” His arms tightened around you, making it hard for you to breathe.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered harshly. While his tone sounded genuine, he was still a demon and could not be trusted. Akaza pulled away, pain showing in his eyes. You did feel a little guilty for allowing him to be so vulnerable and shutting it down. You sat up, your robe falling off one of your shoulders, making you look like even more of a mess. “I think you’re just trying to seduce me, and that once you get what you want you’ll be out of here faster than a deadbeat dad.”

“Y-Y/N-“ you interrupted him by glaring at him.

“There’s no way in hell a demon as powerful as you would go after a literal demon slayer. It makes no sense to me. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been watching me or whatever, you just wanna use me because that’s all anyone wants to do.” You fought back the sudden tears and looked away in shame. You didn’t know why you were getting so emotional, maybe it was the emotion that he had put into his little speech for you that had you feeling like this. You weren’t entirely sure, but it made you mad.

“Would you let me show you?” Akaza reached out for your hand, bringing up so you were sitting on your knees. “I mean if my words can’t convince you, then maybe something else can.” Your eyes widened at his request, he must be crazy. “Let me touch you Y/N~. I know you want me to~.”

You blushed again, knowing damn well how he knew. The damn bastard could smell your arousal and he was using it against you. “No- you’re si- ah~” His hand grabbed your thigh tightly, the sudden pain causing you to moan out.

“Oh my, how I love that sound you make,” Akaza shivered, bringing his head back to the crook of your neck and biting down. Another, louder moan slipped past your lips, despite how hard you had tried not to. He giggled and did it again, but harder, though he was careful not to break your skin. As his tongue tasted your neck, his hand moved further up your thigh, stopping before it became too far. Akaza may have been a demon, but he knew that consent was a thing, and wouldn’t take things further unless you wanted to.

“A-Akaza,” you panted out, looking away to hide your tomato-red face. “T-There i s-said your na- a-ah~ Akaza~!”

That was all it took for Akaza to dive into his meal, and all it took for you to have one hell of a sleepless night.

“Lady Y/N, you’ve got someone here to see you,” your wonderful maid Suzume informed you as you dressed yourself for the day. You looked into the mirror, smiling at your new, unique appearance. It was quite the change from what you used to look like, but you liked it better. You winked at yourself before turning around and heading out of your bedroom, on your way to meet your new guest.

In the halls, several of the servants bowed and greeted you happily, to which you waved and told them it wasn’t necessary to do so.

Suzume showed you to the lounge, where your guest was awaiting you. She had long, white hair with green tips, and what looked like the remains of a traditional oiran’s uniform. A large pink belt lay atop her waist, which was tied neatly into a bow behind her and when she turned around you saw that she had two striped of fabric down her chest that barely covered her breasts.

She greeted you with a smile and explained to you why she was there, saying how she had heard that her friend had gotten a woman and she wanted to see for herself if said woman was good enough for him. To your surprise, she had told you honestly that you had the aura of a kind and noble woman, one that indeed deserved to be respected and loved.

“I wish you a long and prosperous life with Akaza, I can tell that you deserve him as much as he does you, so I’ll leave you be for now.” She turned around and headed for the door, but before she left, she gave you another smile. “Just don’t tell him I stopped by or else he’ll be furious!”

She called herself “Daki.”

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hwaightme · 11 months

Text

Sangshine

(masterlist) (join taglist)

🌅 pairing: sun god!yeosang x gn!baker!reader 🌅 genre: fluff, fantasy, soulmates, studio ghibli-coded 🌅 summary: when yeosang opens the door to your bakery, and a new chapter of your life begins, you cannot help but feel as though you had met before; yeosang is elated to relive every sunrise and sunset, and fall in love with you again. 🌅 wordcount: 5.4k 🌅 warnings/tags: solo edit, food/eating/making food, destiny talk, discussion of time, discussion of deities/olympus, kiki's delivery service-inspired setting, multiple lives, mortal/immortal, summer fantasy, seaside town, baker's assistant yeosang, his precious self, (not quite) strangers to lovers, falling in love again... and again, waiting for love, sun magic, mention of lacking sleep 🌅 a/n: when i say i listened to the playlist on loop, i mean it. this yeosang is dear to me, as is time, the sun, and the cusp of spring and summer, bringing transformation. this fic is also an early celebration of yeosang, our beautiful, talented malberman~ I hope you enjoy, love you, any and all reblogs, comments, asks and notes appreciated!

🌅 playlist: Suzume - RADWIMPS, Toaka ; Time for two - RADWIMPS ; A Town with an Ocean View, The Baker's Assistant, You're in Love - Joe Hisaishi, Path of the Wind (Piano Version) - URE Relaxing, Summer - Joe Hisaishi, Pekka Toivonen

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Once upon a time, on a day when the weather forecast had promised, and the grim steely clouds delivered ceaseless downpours, and you were stuck inside watching rain turn window views into a hazy blur and scare away any potential customers with its ferocity, the sun, cautiously, with a bashful grin on his face, apple cheeks and a boundless kindhearted disposition hinted in every gesture, entered your store.

Raven locks, slightly curled and framing his heaven-sculpted face, inquisitive eyes that were a complex painting, an entrancing shade of grey - one which, much to your surprise, you were fond of, unlike the endless expanse of rain summoners hanging above your shop. You attempted to regard him like you would any other customer, but stopped on your tracks, barely finding the counter with your hands as his form became the sole focus of your vision. It was as though the rain had purposefully passed him by, left an avenue just for him to enter the bakery and keep his leather dress shoes and black outfit pristine, the man crowned by a lucky spotlight. As the young man fumbled for a way to proceed, you wondered if he was a ray of sun himself and that was how he stayed dry in that torrential catastrophe. Forcing your mouth into a more amiable shape than blatant gaping, you returned his shy smile and inquired whether there was anything in particular that he was looking for - after all, if the man was in your store, and managed to expertly dodge what had to be the worst rainfall in a decade, he had to be determined to buy something, anything. Silently, you were hoping that even if he were a passing face, that he could keep your business, and you, afloat.

You left him a moment to ponder and watched him amble towards the counter. This allowed you to study his features at proximity, with bated breath as he leaned towards the glass display and looked at some of the pastries. The drifting of a couple of unruly strands as he lowered his head revealed the hints of a birthmark, a rosy pink blossom on the left side of the beautiful man’s face. Delicate, elegant. You looked away in an effort to appear more professional than usual for the sake of first impressions - you were not sure why this particular man had inspired the urge within you, seeing as you were so used to serving only locals and speaking in an array of neighbourhood inside jokes that you would think any newcomer would instead inspire callousness and aloof behaviour. But the unmistakable warmth emanating from him, the soothing balm of a brighter day that he appeared to carry made you want to grow closer, aim higher, beam instead of scowling.

He caught you as you were smoothing your apron, your break in attentiveness allowing his gaze to travel over you the same way that yours had done when he had crossed the barrier into the delicious safe haven from the atrocious weather that he had to schedule - unbeknownst to the residents of the town, he had actually negotiated to carve a few more sunny days, more days for him to search. It was rare, for someone like him, to stumble across little paradises. After all, for the most part the planet was a blur for him, a daily task and a routine roaming that he had to carry out and maintain. The last thing that the young god needed and had to want was the experience of mortal pleasures - the responsibilities that the deity, in the form of a young man, had were drilled into him again and again, and none of them involved doing what he was doing right this second. But the calls had grown too persistent as he passed by this town, too strong to dismiss, and the sky was curtained by clouds, much to his fortune. It was not that anyone would notice if a blip in the sunlight ever happened. He knew what he needed, and he knew that it was time to achieve it.

“Um, sorry. Do you have melon pan?” the young man addressed you, his deep, dulcet tone like music to your ears. The tilt of his head as the question permeated the air, subconsciously mirrored as you broke into a series of nods, setting off to the bread rack that was located behind the counter, off to the right. Seems it was good to give into your own cravings sometimes and impulsively introduce new items to the menu.

“With cream or without?”

One thing that you would have never expected was that a sun god would make it a habit to visit you in his free time, and be it for a sweet treat or for reasons known only to him, would put on an apron and fall into your beloved routine. What the deity never expected, and remained pleasantly surprised about, was just how readily you had accepted him, and instead of obviously falsified reverence that he had grown accustomed to from mortals who were graced with knowledge of his existence, you treated him as ‘Yeo’. That was the nickname you had given him after he had introduced himself with a human name - Kang Yeosang; a key which, upon turning, made him your new friend, and he would be lying if he said he did not feel elated when you happily shouted out his name from the back of the store, instructing him to move some trays around, or asking him to help you with some bags or dishes.

If there was another heaven, it would be in the rhythm that he had rediscovered with you. In the cosy space of your bakery, Yeosang was at ease, in a tranquillity that he previously thought existed only in books and in mortal movies, in myths about eternal bliss, a paradise in the palm of one’s hand. Something that belonged to other lifetimes, other avenues that he had traversed. He thought that he was the one to have the better cards, the advantages, but it was you who had him figured out, despite his abilities, immortality and near-invincibility. After a particularly scalding hot day, the first words that you had spoken to Yeosang once he made the chimes that were hanging right above the door ring exactly at sundown, were: “you made the sun shine brilliantly today, Yeo,” leaving him awestruck. To you, it was only a matter of putting two and two together, making the man, or not quite exactly a man, into the legend that he truly was. After that, you simply delivered him a melon pan with cream, and pointed at the little table you had put out at the front of the shop, asking if you could enjoy the last of the rays together. He had happily obliged, stars in his eyes as you guided him out, balancing a jug of freshly made lemonade and a couple of glasses on a board resting

As the days grew impossibly long with the climb of the spring into the summer season, so did the opening hours of the bakery, right up until you were stretched so thin over the day that you introduced a midday closing time with a break for a few hours, much to the surprise of the locals. At the same time, it turned out to be a welcome one, seeing as with the arrival of Yeosang, the number of people coming through the green-painted door increased considerably. Of course they would never say it, but you could detect a curiosity and admiration in them as they spotted the beauty strolling around in the kitchens, and the dreamy sighs when Yeosang would peek out, and even interact with some of the customers were far too obvious to ignore. If you knew any less, you would probably find yourself jealous, but at the same time, how many people walked under the sun, day in, day out? That was what you tried to tell yourself when the crowds of students would blast past, buying up the stock on one occasion and simply loitering around on another after their gruelling hours of cram school, and the odd brave youngster would try their luck to flirt with the god. His responsive stoicism, however, dispelled any of your itching doubts, and with a couple of polite nods and a step in a direction farther and farther from whoever was his unwanted interlocutor, Yeosang returned to the rhythm.

He did not mind the visitors of the shop, nor the delivery men who brought you fresh produce and ingredients. In fact, he had made some new friends in this way. But it was when he could catch your grin, listen to your melodic laugh and feel a light playful tap on his shoulder that the light was truly brighter. Aside from the laborious maintenance of the glowing orb, patrolling his part of the world before he needed to pass it on, he was now a baker. Technically an assistant at best, but you proudly called him ‘the real deal’ when you applauded him for helping you with the brioche loaves. The coolness of the morning before dawn never felt warmer as his heart swelled with your encouragement, as if the sun really did set and rise in this bakery, home to nature’s magic and the adoration that he held for the world, reflected in your eyes that caught the hints of the rising sun. Nothing could be more beautiful.

“Good luck for today!” you chirped with excitement evident in your voice, adjusting his shirt absent-mindedly, a habit that he had allowed you to form, the few precious seconds where he could let himself imagine a timelessness with you.

“Good luck to you too, and see you this evening. We have the Summer Solstice event opening!” Yeosang answered, matching your joy. While you adjusted his collar and clapped your hands a couple of times, satisfied with the neat look, Yeosang remained more still than the verdant green trees that cast calming shadows over to the side of the shop in the early hours.

“That’s right, so you better be prepared to work the till until you become the till,” you should have known that your attempt to move the blackboard sign would be intercepted, and the deity’s arms were already guiding themselves between yours to grasp onto the wooden frame. Whispering out an apology, a light blush coating his cheeks when your fingers barely brushed as you detangled yourself from the kind intervention, Yeosang moved the elaborate logographic art onto the street in its rightful place, continuing with his encouraging ponderings:

“First day sales are about to beat all records for this beauty.”

“They better, or the seasonal specials will-”

“I can always call my friends if you’re worried.”

“So I can have Olympus in my shop?”

“Why not? Your treats are heavenly…” he trailed off, partially in disbelief at his own choice of words. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, Yeosang decided to let the moment carry itself forward, listening to the trickling of time.

Again, the gentlest touch of your hand on his chest as a laugh escaped you, and what had struck fear in his heart dispelled to reveal a brilliant sunrise. It was always you behind those sun rays, wasn’t it? The question crept out of a deep slumber, having lied dormant for what had to have been decades, now crawling up the walls of his consciousness, melting away doubts that came with every first meeting.

“You really are too sweet. Now go, can't keep your colleagues and the world waiting.”

As you peered into his eyes, clear, bright, hopeful, you felt as though you were looking at the sky itself, admiring its infinite expanse and omniscience. An odd sensation hinted at its existence as you did not dare look away, letting yourself sink further into ever-changing blues and greys, highlighted with flickers of a mahogany flame right by the pupils. Almost as if you had seen these very eyes before, gazed into the summer sky and caressed the sun itself as though it was an ornate glass marble. Perhaps this was another one of the peculiarities that came with interacting with the divine, you concluded and brushed it off, simply glad that in the now, in the early dawn on what was to be a hot summer day, you could look forward to more than ever before.

Yeosang bit the corner of his lower lip, in nervous contemplation, before tentatively reaching for your hand which had been resting by your side, and giving it a soft squeeze, barely there until you responded, fingers intertwining, answering to his unsaid hopes. Gaze not leaving the unity, thumb running over the edge of your palm repeatedly in an attempt to memorise the presence, he whispered out, half to himself, half to the divinity above and around him in sacred promise:

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Even as he departed, and you watched his figure evaporate into the morning mist as he approached the reddening horizon, the feeling of his hand in yours remained as vivid as that feeling that you must have known Yeosang before, or at least the irreplaceable, unique warmth that he shared with you was something akin to the idea of home itself. Supported, quietly cheered on as you continued your daily duties and finalised preparations to open the store for the first half of the day, Yeosang was there in your every thought and movement.

The glints of sun as the trees, having been ushered awake by the earliest hints of warmth that the red tiled roof of the bakery caught, commenced their serene rustling, were ciphers, music to your vision that danced over the concrete of the street outside. The way in which the colours changed as the sun grew more prominent and energetic was a masterpiece in the making, white paint turning into a glowing fantasy. When you closed for the day break, setting off on a daily walk around the neighbourhood in your favourite linen dress and wide-brimmed straw hat, you were embraced by the luminance that ambled across the ultramarine heavens, Yeosang matching your stride.

Running your hand over the top of the stone fencing that lined the hill on which your bakery found its home, you let your gaze rest over the breathtaking scenery of your beloved town, the terracotta roofs, the cream walls that were highlighted with wooden planks that stood the test of decades, the cobbled streets and hustle and bustle of squares and markets, and the glistening ocean that was always the first to wave to Yeosang, all shining thanks to the summer sun. It was fascinating, how with the marvel of the seasons, the town transformed into a fantastical land that you could only hope to spend all your years in. It had always been your home, your calling, and even in the times when you had gone outside of the town’s boundaries, your heart remained right here, come rain or shine. Perhaps this was the true reason why you were so drawn to Yeosang - in his eyes, you saw the same place, the same time, the understanding of a home that was so personal you were convinced he was taking the threads from your very soul, and singing the melodies right back to you. Your own, only sun that you could not believe returned your daring, unwavering gaze. You waved at the midday orb, chuckling to yourself as a flock of birds dashed past, hoping that your cheers would be delivered.

As you turned to give the bakery a once-over before turning the corner to head down the stone stairs that would lead you to a busier part of the neighbourhood, you gasped as the sign, a dainty metal pretzel right above the entrance rocked back and forth on the rod, as if waving back to you, and caught a sudden sun ray, reflecting the warmth for it to fall at your feet like a thousand stars, decorating the cobble to turn to an illuminated path of glowing marble. Unable to contain your beam, you bowed your head in gratitude and curtsied, wondering just what your neighbours would think if they were to poke their heads out from their bedrooms and shops. But you did not pay it too much mind, instead twirling around, and with a newfound lightness, found yourself on a mission to surprise the precious sunshine.

The longest day of the year, marking the moment when the sun would begin its slow journey to a hibernation for the northern hemisphere, and Yeosang would find himself growing that little bit less busy as a god, busier as your loyal assistant. He rushed down the streets as soon as his feet hit the concrete in a secluded spot that he liked to use for his returns, counting every second that passed and matching it to the start of the event. Seeing the small crowd that gathered by the bakery, waiting for their much adored pastries and cheerfully chatting away, pride swelled within him as he thought back to the wishes you had made, what you had been working towards and what you had now achieved. He glided into the store in efforts to find you, picking up the apron that you left for him behind the counter. You were in the middle of carrying a new tray of buns and motioned for him to take his position by the till - back to his favourite rhythm.

Customers came and went, the event turning into a hit, and by the second hour, your specially decorated melon pan was officially sold out; all except one for a certain someone, tucked away, kept safe. You almost felt guilty for keeping this tiny secret from the god, taking notice of his momentary confusion and barely restrained pout as he caught sight of the empty basket, and his disheartened stance as he picked it up and removed it from the display. You swore you saw what was already the night hour darken, and stifled a giggle, instead tapping Yeosang on the shoulder to give him a thumbs up for his hard work and mouth the words promising a gift. With a re-discovered vigour, the deity hurried off to assist an elderly customer who was trying with all her might to contain a loaf of sourdough and make it past a busy line - your store being the only one in this part of town to sport one in such late evening. As the chimes rang out again, you thought back to the little present you had acquired during your afternoon walk, barely containing yourself, bursting at the seams as you imagined what you wanted Yeosang’s reaction to be over and over again.

With the last of the customers came the quietude, a lulling blanket of deep navy decorated with stars that had been lying in wait outside of the bakery, a moment of rest for the sun god, a cooling serenity that you could share with him as you closed up, cleaned up, and ushered him to the little table outside - previously folded away and hidden behind an antique delivery scooter bike out at the front of the shop, so as to not attract attention, nor occupy the space that had always been set out for idle chatter of the visiting locals. As you let Yeosang finalise the furnishing of your makeshift lounge, you recalled his curiosity of the wheeled machine, and your suggestion that one of these days, he could use it as a chariot, much to his child-like excitement. You turned and made a beeline for the store, almost running into Yeosang in the process, your balance restored only by a pair of strong hands on your upper arms.

“What’s the hurry?” as though electrified by the contact, his hands flew away from you just as suddenly as they had caressed your skin, though, much like the heavenly reassurance of his presence on your wrist, the ghost of him remained around you, seeking an embrace. Retraining your focus on the man before you, you huffed and continued past him repeating “just you wait”, over, over like a mantra, a spell that you wanted to use to keep him in place.

Thankfully, he did not follow, instead stepping closer to the window that was now exposed to the moonlight since he folded the ruby red awning, faded with the years of sunlight and rain storms. Yeosang folded his toned arms, smiling to himself as he watched you throw one item, another onto a wooden tray, and shuffle back outside, not once breaking focus from balancing what had to be priceless treasure, considering how carefully you set it down in front of him.

“Sit.”

“But you’re standing.”

“Yeo, come on, sit down, I am just energetic!”

“After that shift? Are you sure you are not a god or demi-god yourself?” he countered, tilting his head.

“I- hm. Okay so we are standing then?”

“I want to be energetic with you!” the innocent comment made your chest ache, and what had previously been utter conviction that what you were doing was casual, customary for colleagues, friends, passing faces who had grown familiar, shattered into a vulnerable confession.

You stilled, the nervous rocking on the balls of your feet ceasing to bring you comfort, the erratic motions and gesticulations as you struggled for a response disappearing into the night and leaving an entrancing clarity. There was no other way to present this, and you had accidentally pushed yourself over the edge, a stance, a dare that you were no longer able to back out of. Facing the sun, you stepped closer and closer to it, and reached for the first item on the tray.

“Here is a little… thing I kept for you.”

“No… no way, is that melon pan!” he exclaimed, taking the small paper bag from your hands and peering inside, amazed to find his, and your favourite sweet bun. The crisp cookie dough layer solidifying the neat, recogniseable hatching, containing a custard cream inside, another homemade specialty.

“You know, I recently found out that melon pan has another name,” dropping the bun back into the bag to give you full attention, Yeosang glanced back at you and pushed a stray strand of black hair behind his ear, preventing it from blocking his view. Gesturing for you to continue, he nearly squeezed the custard out of the bread upon hearing your elaboration: “a friend of mine, she works at a bakery in a city down south, and there, they call this sunrise bread. Funny, isn’t it?”

“So you bake suns in your oven?”

“Guess you could say that.”

How was it that you managed to leave him breathless regardless of the time you met was forever going to remain a mystery, but one Yeosang never wanted to solve. Instead, he was waiting with a fluttering heart for the moment you were going to say the words that had imprinted themselves in his eternal being, and travelled across from heaven to earth, from the east to the west, echoing in his mind as he searched for you over and over again until finally, your dawn could greet him. He remained silent, glancing at you and at the last hidden object on the tray, a box leaning against the glass jug, this time filled to the brim with a peach ice tea.

“I… was at this antique store today. Don’t really know what brought me there but as soon as I saw this, I knew I wanted you to have it. I-... well, I don’t know if gods have birthdays but since it is the Summer Solstice, and you are basically the sun itself, I wanted this to be a little celebration of… you?”

“Of me? But-” never, not a single time could the divine being find rationality in your kindness, only the crossing of stars that tugged the fragile lonely hearts together into an intricate waltz woven in the skies.

“Check it out!”

Yeosang counted the seconds that passed once more, this night, this fateful night being so cruelly short, but so full of promise. His hands, trembling ever so slightly as he attempted to remove the lid, a trepidation taking a hold of him. Your infinite pools hurried him on with their anxious darting, and inhaling the sweet scent of the sea and his earthly home, he opened the box to reveal just what he had been anticipating, a relic, centuries-old masterpiece passed on from one you to another. Forever yours, finding its place in the same antique shop to return to him and to you, making another beginning.

He searched for the ring at the top of the sun chimes, stained glass beauties attached by sturdy strings to a hook that, the next dawn would find purchase at the base of the bakery sign above the light grassy green door, there to remain for a measure of time. Lifting it out of the box, Yeosang admired the stars, the crescent moon, the sun that had been crafted and immortalised just like himself, ready to attract and dissipate every ray that would grace them. A miniature galaxy contained in impossibly intricate artwork, with every sparkle appearing to house a memory and still hold space for the near and far future. Your future, his future. Lost in the relief of meeting the object as though it was a good friend, he barely registered your diffident approach.

“So… what do you-”

“I love it, Y/N.”

“You do?”

“I do. And I think I know just where to hang it. If you do not mind, of course,” upon seeing your nod of approval, he lifted his arm to turn and point at the pretzel, gleeful when he saw your face light up brighter than the sun he was tasked to carry. “Let’s do it now, before it is too late to sleep and before the sun rises. So that I can visit you more while the days are still too long.”

Insisting on saying your morning goodbyes to him, even though barely a few hours had passed between the hanging of the chimes and the palette of the skies gaining lighter blue, lilac and pastel pink hues, you stood under them, huddled in a wool blanket to minimise the contrast of the cosiness of your bed and the breeze travelling down the still, somnolent streets, alive only thanks to the the scattering of lamps and the world surrounding them, watching over them. One blink, another as you tried to rid yourself of sleep to convince Yeosang that you were perfectly fine and ready to start the day. In reality, you simply wanted to catch the first glints on the chimes and follow his journey across the sky, dreaming of his sunset back in your bakery.

Hands concealed by the thick material and unable to smooth his shirt, you could only take a step towards the divinity, the action turning symbolic. What you did not anticipate, however, was that this dawn, he was more than happy to take over your duties and instead of him melting under your softness, your ears were turning red as he pulled the blanket tighter around you, taking its edges that were close to your face, adjusting the ticklish fabric like it was a one of a kind ball gown - unbeknownst to you, that was was exactly how Yeosang saw it, and when he saw you trying to nuzzle into it and away from his amused expression, he could not resist any longer, and with one final pull rested his forehead against yours, noses colliding briefly causing you to let out a feeble yelp.

“I’ll see you in the chimes later, yeah?” he whispered against your skin, the proximity proving intoxicating as you could only just register and make sense of his words, initial shock wearing off to lay down the path for the return of the same feeling from the earlier night, only this time more real, more certain fully reciprocated.

“And later. I’ll make more sunrise bread for you.”

“I think I know something even sweeter. If you will let me indulge, of course.” the last moment before the break of your dawn, a question by which the world was hanging in intimate suspense.

The past, present and future collided as, in response to Yeosang’s careful request, you boldly closed the already practically nonexistent space between you, finally understanding the true meaning of being sunkissed. It did not take any time at all for the god to return the revealed fondness that you had kept guarded until it only felt natural to bring to light. Like the balmy immersion of the elements, suspended on the cusp of spring becoming summer, Yeosang leaned in with immeasurable affection as if he had been carrying it for all his eternity and kissed you like a long-lost lover who wanted to, through every movement, recollect the memories made, the days spent together, retrace the unity of two beings colliding into one entity, set alight like the brightest star in the universe.

As he tried to remain more level, gentle in an effort to not expose you to the early dawn’s winds, you grew frustrated from the lack of true warmth, wanting to fly closer to the sun, into it, be consumed by it. Gliding your hands out from under the blanket, you reached for Yeosang’s shirt and pulled him towards you, dragging him impatiently to the open door where you promptly shrugged off the material. Perplexed and worried, Yeosang momentarily broke away from the kiss to ask you whether the action was comfortable.

“Aren’t you going to get cold?”

“Are you saying the sun god cannot keep me warm?” chuckling at the fluttering of his eyelashes, abashedness at your ambiguous choice of words evident on every part of his face, you let your arms rest on his broad shoulders, gleaming back when his own found your waist, playing with the material of your top.

Touching your nose with his own, he was shy in his advances, seeing every wrong turn and prospective hurt unfold in accompaniment to the tragically perfect duet of a mortal and an immortal soul. Knowledge of the lives you had lived, while it was a blessing, at the same time was a series of unbearable lessons that decorated Yeosang's heart like untreatable scars. The mark on the side of his face, your first ever caress, a peppering of butterfly-like kisses on his face, celestial stardust, which has manifested itself as a symbol joyously tying you to him, now emitted that familiar dull burning, having re-encountered its creator. This was an ache that he would give up the sun to experience again and again, the pizzicato thrill warmer than the coming heatwaves, than the surface of the galaxy's centre.

"I don't want you to ever burn, Y/n." He murmured, understanding that the words would not hold as much weight in your interpretation. You took another step towards him, pressing yourself close, surrounding yourself with his solar flare.

"I trust you. Do you trust me too?"

"More than the skies above us, always."

"Then I know that we will be a beautiful sunrise."

He peered into your gorgeous eyes, looking for anything to stop him, convince him that he needed to step away, knowing full well that he would find nothing except his love returned, amplified by your own. Such was the merry-go-round of life that had been set out for you and Yeosang, an unstoppable turning of the gears that were set in motion by destiny. Now, the light began, soon there will be darkness, and in the future, foreseeable by the god, there will be more light. The sun will peek out from the edge of the planet, crawling across the foaming waters to call the residents of this town awake again and again, whether there was to be a town here, or not. The sun remained, and so did Yeosang's eternal wait for the next turn of the divine clock's hands. As he shut his eyes and kissed you once more, feeling heaven and earth collide, his musings reduced to a simple melody. He was happy that in this lifetime too, the sunshine found you.

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odieoats · 1 year

Text

𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬

summary: After messing up his soba order, Pro Hero Shouto can’t get enough of it- or, just maybe, can’t get enough of you.

cw: Pro Hero!Todoroki x server!reader. 18+ smut, praise kink, afab!reader (they/them pronouns, afab anatomy), oral sex (m and reader receiving), penetrative sex, slight temperature play. reader is attacked by a villain, but it’s short and pretty nonviolent. I have worked in many a kitchen, but never a Soba kitchen- sorry to my Soba waiters out there.

wc: 5.4k

Hi guys, I’m so incredibly excited to debut my first fic on this blog! Even better, it’s for The Teahouse server’s secret fic exchange. This is written with all my love for the lovely @/kaiapaia I’m hoping you enjoy what I came up with according to your prompt 🥺

The kitchen is on fire, almost as literally as it is figuratively, when you clock in to work at your third swing shift in a row.

The old shopworn curtain separating the front counter from the kitchen is kept solely for posterity at this point. Through the fibers of the cloth, gaping holes the size of a toddler’s fist, you can see the disembodied head of your kitchen manager frowning sternly at the expeditor. The rest of her is obscured by the remaining threads of the curtain, but you can easily imagine her stance- arms folded across her body, leg extended and toe tapping- ready to chew your head off for being three whole minutes late.

Dashi broth and fear have smelled eerily alike ever since you started working at the once family-owned soba restaurant in Musutafu. It had changed hands more times than you could count since then; the early days, before your clunky cash till was replaced by an iPad screen with convenient, dummy-proof pictures, long gone. The current management (if you could call it that) had driven out most of the original staff. It’s only you left, loyal to a fault and desperate for the extra cash seniority brings you at this job as you finish up your degree. It keeps you and your goldfish fed, and that’s about all you could ask for.

You tie your apron around your waist, stealing a few pens from the cup near the to-go register and shoving them into the pocket that held your server pad. Your manager sees you- of course she does- through the curtain before you’re even in the kitchen.

“Guess who called out today?” She scoffs, moving to stand near the empty sauce bar. Your tardiness is pardoned by the absence of your coworker, for now, for what it’s worth. She lifts the lid of the prep fridge, more tears of condensation collecting on the inside of the metal nine pan than pre-portioned broth cups. “Prep’s fucked.”

You already knew what Suzume was asking you- and it wasn’t your job to prep. The hostess had already given you your tables, some of them already seated and awaiting food courtesy of the lunch shift. You hadn’t even touched back of house work since the original owners had left. The ratios that had once been second nature were now fuzzily teetering at the edge of your memories. What went into the mentsuyu? A cup of soy? A few teaspoons- no- tablespoons of mirin?

Your idling forms are an unwelcome sight in the otherwise bustling kitchen. Another waitress muscles her way past you, shoulder knocking into yours in a way that feels intentional, as she plucks three or four containers of broth out of the fridge. It makes the sight even more miserable.

“Who's going to take my tables?” You ask, though your tone betrayed the fact that you were already relenting. Being stubborn about the situation would not change the fact that things still needed to get done.

Suzume shrinks at your question, a sheepish smile stretching across her face as a nonverbal admission that no one would be.

“Absolutely not.”

“Please, I need you– there’s absolutely no one else available today!” Suzume says, almost petulantly, slumping against the sauce bar in a way that bares her age. She’s only a few years older than you- much less demanding than your older managers, despite her Type A tendencies. Her obvious distress almost instills pity, a sort of guilt washing over you for not being able to do anything about the lack of staff. Still, you weren’t being paid nearly enough to do two people’s jobs at the same time.

Another bout of protests are poised behind your lips, but you’re interrupted by the hostess poking her face through a hole in the curtain.

“Need a cold soba broth base, on the fly, now. Shouto’s here.”

Both you and your manager peep through separate rifts in the curtain, scanning the lobby for the notorious semi-regular. When your manager spots him, already seated at his usual booth in the far corner of the restaurant, she tugs at your sleeve and points her index finger through the hole. There’s no missing the shock of white and red hair peeking out from above the booth- it’s definitely, unmistakably Pro-Hero Shouto. You’re pulled back into the kitchen and away from the view of the lobby where other patrons had also just caught wind of Shouto’s appearance, whispering amongst themselves all at once. Suzume’s hands are on your shoulders as she pleads.

“Here’s the deal. You prep the sauces, and I’ll take half of your tables– for an hour. Until Shouto leaves.” Suzume says, and, for good measure, sucks some air into her cheeks before sighing. “You can even take his booth. He’s considerably generous, if you catch my drift.”

You’ve heard from your other coworkers that much, at the very least. In all your time working at the restaurant, you hadn’t had the opportunity to be his server. Whether you were training a new hire, helping back of house with prep, or preoccupied with too many tables already, Shouto had somehow evaded you. The thought of serving him made you nervous, even though, realistically, it shouldn’t. He seemed nice enough in interviews and the ads that break up your late night television binging. And yet, the sight of his muscular frame squeezed a little too tightly into the narrow corner booth never failed to make you anxious. Butterflies, you’d probably call them, had you still been an infatuated teenager- but you’re older now, and a Pro Hero is, quite frankly, way out of your league.

“Fine, whatever.” You grumble, “Just get the recipe booklet from the office for me.”

You make your way out of the kitchen, making sure to apologize about the wait to the patrons you passed. Your heart races the closer you get to Shouto’s table, serving book clenched tightly in your hands.

“You’re not my usual waitress.”

His tone and expression are even, despite the intensity in his heterochromatic eyes as he scans over you. You’re suddenly a little insecure in your uniform. Your white button-up is a little too tight from constant cycling in the laundry and the cheap brand of black slacks you own are infamously unflattering. It’s true that regulars weren’t usually clambering to see you in particular, but it still hurt a little to disappoint him.

“I’m sorry, we’re a little short staffed today, so your usual waitress probably isn’t in–“

“I see you around here all the time. You just aren’t my usual waitress. It’s a nice change.”

“O-oh, thank you.” You say, face warming, tapping your notepad with the back of your pen. “I think it’s just a formality for me to ask what you’d like. Cold soba? Extra shredded daikon on the side?”

“You know my order.” He says, halfway between a question and a statement. There’s a small smile that breaks the even line of his mouth, and honestly, he’s a little too handsome to look at. You force yourself not to stare, eyes wandering toward the napkin holder next to him that would probably need to be refilled once he left.

“‘Course I do.”

We all do, you think, though you weren’t so keen on letting the pro hero know that he was a frequent name on the tips of every worker’s tongue. Instead, you just shrug and smile at him. “Anything else today?”

“That’ll be all. Thank you.”

You bow politely at him before scuttling into the kitchen.

You prepare some dipping sauce, one for Shouto and several others as backup, but quickly stepping into the walk-in for extra ingredients seemed to be a mistake. By the time you’ve come back, all of your prepared sauces were gone, and even worse, so was the recipe booklet. You curse, unable to recall what you had just put together. Shouto was surely growing impatient, and you had no time to spend looking for the recipe. Instead, you freestyle a cup of mentsuyu. You’ve done it so many times in the past that the process should be muscle memory… right?

You rush out of the kitchen and timidly set the tray of soba down onto Shouto’s table, waiting for him to take a bite. There’s a sudden rush of anxiety swirling in your stomach as you watch him gather the soba noodles into a neat bundle with his chopsticks and dip them into the mentsuyu. He raises the chopsticks to his lips, and you swear that time slows as he opens his mouth.

Shouto’s face breaks its cool exterior, knitting his eyebrows together at the taste, but the expression passes as soon as it’s come. You let out a snarky breath. Hopefully that meant that he was okay with the taste, even if it wasn’t precise.

“Do- do you need anything else?”

“No.” He hums, in a way that you choose to interpret as contentedly. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course!” You squeak, bowing again before heading back into the kitchen.

The recipe booklet is, somehow, miraculously where it had once been on the prep table. You flip to the mentsuyu page in record speed, eyes flickering to the measurements for each ingredient.

Fuck. You weren’t even close.

And whatever acrid concoction you created is currently being consumed by Pro-Hero Shouto. Son of Endeavor. The Shouto Todoroki. A voice in the back of your head is screaming at you that you’ll be arrested for attempted poisoning.

You’re beyond embarrassed when you go to hand him the check, but are surprised to see an empty wooden tray. He had eaten all of it.

He’s polite as he takes the check from your hands, thanking you again and- god, his stare really was intense.

Moreover, the rather sizable tip signed at the bottom of the merchant copy of his receipt seems to imply that he really, really liked it.

“Woah.” Suzume says, later that night as she’s checking the register’s balance. “He usually tips well, but never that well.”

“Yeah, I… really don’t know why.” You call from your place sweeping underneath the booths in the lobby. During your break, you had even attempted to recreate the abominable sauce for your comp meal. It was awful- too salty, too bitter, and somehow a little oily. You were starting to think that the only flaw Shouto Todoroki had was his apparent poor taste.

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.” Suzume laughs, handing you your share of the tips from dinner service.

—-

And so you do.

His visits to the soba shop became even more frequent after that. Stranger still, Shouto had taken to requesting you in particular to be his server. He was a little more talkative than you imagined him to be- interested in what you did outside of work, what you were studying, what your hobbies were. Whatever you had done with the mentsuyu, he apparently couldn’t get enough. Suzume had even clued you in on the fact that Shouto would ask about you even when you weren’t scheduled. Soon, even your other coworkers had noticed, envious of the attention (and, more importantly, money) that Shouto paid you. You were embarrassed to admit how you’d discovered what Shouto liked, especially considering your seniority over everyone else in the restaurant, so whenever anyone asked you what your secret was, you simply gave a vague answer and continued working. Some one-sided tension brewed between you and your coworkers, but you ducked your head and hoped that the whole ordeal would blow over- maybe Shouto would snap to his senses and realize the garbage he was eating.

“I need you to go out for a delivery.” Suzume says one day, before you’re even clocked in.

“We don’t deliver.” You say, though you already knew that you didn’t have to remind Suzume of that. The smirk on her face was enough for you to know that she had something devious up her sleeve.

“We do today.” Suzume proudly proclaims, setting an already prepared paper bag in front of you. It had been shoddily stapled together, but the smell of buckwheat and freshly shaved daikon clued you in to what was contained within. “Shouto called. Wants you to deliver it to his agency. You just gotta make the mentsuyu.”

“His agency?” You repeat, searching Suzume’s expression for any hint that she’s joking- and she’s not. “Suzume, I don’t have a car. I’m not riding the bus to deliver this thing.”

Suzume fishes around her pockets and pulls out the keys to her infamous teal moped, parked just outside the shop. “Treat my baby well, okay?”

—-

You walk past the sliding glass doors of Shouto’s agency and are immediately impressed by the size of it. Though Shouto had only been on the scene for a few years, his agency was large and neatly organized. It was jarring to see sidekicks and heroes that you had only seen on the news brush past you, all larger than life. You felt extraordinarily unextraordinary making your way to the receptionist’s desk as heroes walked and rolled and flew past you.

“Welcome to the Todoroki Agency.” The receptionist smiles, eyes flickering to the bag of food in your hands. “Dropping off a delivery?“

“Yeah, for Shouto.” You say, resting the food on the counter in front of her.

She nods, punching in the number to Shouto’s office. Holding the phone to her face, she turns her attention back to you. “You can probably just leave it there, I’ll have someone– oh! Hello, Shouto-san. Yes, your food is here. I can have– oh, alright then. Are you sure you don’t want me to have it brought up to you? Of course, my pleasure sir.”

The receptionist puts the phone back onto the receiver and cocks her head at you. “Shouto-san said he’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

You blink at that, not sure if you should take him up on that offer. You were still on the clock, after all, and it was nearing the time the shop usually had its lunch rush. Still, the fact that he wanted to talk to you at all made your stomach do flips. Butterflies.

Suzume owes you for making you go out of your way for the delivery. She can wait a little longer for you to return, you decide.

The elevator chimes from the end of the hall, and out emerges Pro Hero Shouto in all his glory. His eyes find you instantly, a small smile turning the corner of his lips.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Shouto says as he approaches the reception table. “I’m busy with paperwork today, so I couldn’t come to eat in person.”

“We don’t usually do deliveries.” You explain. A flash of concern crosses Shouto’s face, perhaps upset at himself for interrupting the regular flow of the restaurant, but you quickly backtrack. “But my manager was more than happy to make an exception- and I’m always happy to spend more time with you.”

Too far. Embarrassment finds a home in your stomach, but Shouto simply smirks, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“Nice helmet.” He gestures toward your head at Suzume’s teal eyesore. You’re mortified- you hadn’t thought to take the helmet off, thinking that doing so would be unjustifiable for such a short delivery. You must look like such a nerd, standing there inside his agency alongside heroes with a helmet on.

“Well, you know. Safety first.”

God, you were bad at this. This is the first time that Shouto has ever stood next to you. You’re used to seeing him sat in his booth, where the two of you were closer to eye level. Now, standing up straight and tall, a tower of muscle, you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

At least Shouto finds it funny.

“Would you want to continue our conversation in my office?”

You balk at that, heart skipping several beats at the thought of being alone with him in his office. Sitting across from him as he ate soba at his desk, chatting like friends. Like lovers–

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” You grab the bag from the counter and hand it to him. “I’m on the clock, and Suzume is gonna start sending the dogs after me if I’m gone for too long.”

Shouto hums, reaching for the bag of food. His left hand brushes yours, considerably warmer than your own. It’s a reminder of his extraordinary Quirk– of the divide that separates you. You linger there for a moment before you pull your arm back, embarrassed by how much you wanted his touch.

“Well, you’re welcome back any time.” Shouto offers, but you’re already walking out of the door, too embarrassed to look back- to notice the way Shouto stared at you as you left.

—-

A few days later, for some reason or another, Suzume needed to go home early. She had told you that much at the beginning of the shift, before pleading that you cover her closing duties. There were tears, there were promises of covering your future shifts, and some extra cash slipped in as incentive. Though her reasons for leaving were shoddy at best, you still agreed to cover her.

– and so you had stayed an extra 45 minutes, balancing the register, taking inventory, and writing the following day’s morning prep sheets. Your main motivation took shape in the takeout bag that sat behind the to-go register. Paid for but forgotten, completely up for grabs. Before you lock up for the night, you remember to snag the bag off of the counter. You jiggle the handle to the restaurant a few times, just to make sure there would be no unexpected break-ins that the higher ups could pin you for.

The street is quiet. The wind that carries the chill of the night brushes against your cheeks on your brisk walk home. The soba shop’s close proximity to your apartment was what initially drew you to it - the bus was your first option most days, when it decided to arrive on time, but the walk wasn’t too bad either. It was only fifteen minutes on a relatively well-lit and busy street, so even at night, you still felt somewhat secure. You hold your bag of leftovers close to your chest, comforted by the warmth emanating from the vegetable tempura meant to compliment your cold soba. Despite having to stay late in order to pick up Suzume’s slack, you were in high spirits.

‘I really have to ask for a raise’ is the thought that distracts you from the man leaning against the lamp post.

When you stumble, you almost mistake it for your own carelessness. It’s only when you look down and see his hand, unnaturally extended and stuck on to the back of your upper thigh, that you realize someone else was responsible for you near-fall. You gasp aloud, dropping the bag of food in your hands. It falls to the ground with an ugly clatter, broth staining the sidewalk beneath it. Your hands rush to the site where you’re connected, scrambling to pry the unwelcome limb away from you. It hurts a little when you try to rip him off, mortified to find out that his palm was stuck onto you like a piece of velcro. Even trying to take a step forward tugged unpleasantly on your skin.

“I just wanna talk, baby.” The man laughs. “Can’t a guy have some fun?”

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yell back, hands anxious and fumbling. If you could just get a good grasp on him, maybe you could just bite your lip and rip him off like a bandaid.

Before the man can get any closer or move his other hand to another part of your body, a rush of cold air overwhelms your surroundings. The grip on your thigh is replaced by an intense cold, seeping through your pants. Your skin throbs underneath your slacks, the ice freezing the fabric to the back of your thigh. Even though it hurts, you know you’re safe. You don’t even need to look up to know that Shouto’s there, but you do anyway. Your eyes meet his, and you find a tenderness there, a comfort, before he turns his attention back to the offender. He’s encased to the throat with ice, rendering him completely immobile.

“I’ve contacted the authorities, they’ll be coming to collect you soon.” Shouto says coolly, though his right hand is still extended toward the man as a warning- a reminder that there was nothing stopping the hero from completing his transformation into a full iceberg.

When the man simply chokes on a pained gargle, Shouto lowers his arm.

“I would have frozen his tongue off if he tried to say anything smart.” Shouto whispers to you, and you snort despite yourself. His left hand hovers above the junction where you were frozen together, a small flame melting the ice until you’re able to break away from the glaciar of the man next to you.

You reach your hand behind you, touching the tender spot at the back of your thigh. You hiss, retracting your arm as quickly as you had put it there.

Shouto frowns at your pained expression. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“You saved me. I’ll take a freezer-burnt leg over whatever the alternative would be.”

Shouto softly exhales, eyes flickering to where he had frozen you. “Is the back of your leg still cold? Could I– would you like me to warm it for you?”

Your eyes widen at that, too taken aback to speak properly. Instead, you simply nod, letting Shouto kneel behind you. His left hand is steadfast and professional, hovering just above the afflicted area. Despite that, you can’t help but feel your nerves ignite, knowing that he was so tantalizing close to touching you. The heat from his hand inspires another heat deep within your core, especially when you glance back at Shouto kneeling on the ground behind you and notice his lingering gaze at the assets that lived just above your thighs–

When the police arrive, you’re quick to make your statement. Gathering the bag of food that you had ejected out of your hands earlier, you’re disappointed to find that you had lost nearly half of both containers of broth. You’ll still eat it, of course, but the moisture soiling all of the containers makes everything a bit unappetizing.

“Are you walking home? I thought that you had a moped?” Shouto asks as you’re about to leave. You stand, damp takeout bag in hand, surprised that he had remembered Suzume’s moped from your visit to the agency.

“It’s my manager’s. I usually walk or take the bus home, but I had to stay late tonight.” You explain.

Shouto frowns, something that wrinkles the sides of his mouth, like it was his own personal failing that had you in the clutches of the villain that he had literally saved you from.

“Let me walk you home.” Shouto says, moving to grab the takeout bag from you. You knew that you’d probably be okay with walking the rest of the way home, but Shouto’s face read as though he had already made up his mind- he was going to walk you home. And you really didn’t mind being doted on by him for just a little longer.

When you approach the door of your apartment, you pause. You know you should probably call it a night, thank Shouto for what he had done and that you’d see him next time he decided to stop in for lunch, but you can’t help wanting to be a little selfish. You wanted to occupy a little more of his time, if he’d let you.

“Do you want to come inside and eat some of this?” You ask.

Shouto looks confused for a moment, and you swear you notice a slight red tint to the man’s cheeks before you gesture to the takeout container.

“Someone forgot to pick up their takeout order- there should be two zaru soba sets and some tempura, if you’re interested.”

“Ah,” Shouto says, looking down at the bag in his hand. “I would very much enjoy that.”

You unlock your apartment door, flickering the lights on and kicking some of the clutter you had laying on the floor underneath the couch before Shouto could come in. You tell Shouto that he could start eating the soba at your coffee table if he’d like, and that you could throw some tea on if he wanted.

He declines, sitting on your rug, salvaging the containers of broth and mentsuyu and noodles. When you sit down across from him, you watch as he dips the buckwheat into the sauce and takes a bite. His eyes widen, and you’re about launch into a tangent about how the sauce probably wasn’t how he liked it today, when he suddenly says:

“This tastes a lot better than it normally does.”

Something inside you breaks.

“You… prefer it this way?” You ask slowly, unbelieving, shocked when Shouto nods.

“It’s usually shit.” Shouto says, completely deadpan.

You laugh. You can’t help yourself. It’s a full, straight from the gut, ugly chortle. You can barely find the breath required to respond to him. “You– I messed up your order, but you tipped so much and kept coming back, so I thought– I thought you liked it that way.”

“You’ve been purposefully poisoning me this whole time?” Shouto asks, an eyebrow raised at you as you try to compose yourself, but the soft grin that graces his lips lets you know that you won’t really end up the next person arrested.

“You kept coming back to the shop! And asking for me in particular! I thought you just had bad taste.” You explain, wiping your eyes. “Why did you keep coming back if you hated it so much?”

Shouto pauses, letting his eyes wash over you. He’s focused on your lips when he confesses.

“I wasn’t going for the soba.”

It takes a minute for you to process what he had said, feeling your body light aflame once more. You can’t believe this is happening. Having Pro Hero Shouto in your living room is surreal itself, but implying that he was interested in you? You wonder if you’re dreaming or if this was all an elaborate prank by management to punish you for messing up on the job.

Shouto packs away his portion of food, analyzing your body and expression again. “Is your thigh still cold?”

Absolutely not, you think, but nod anyway. A little too enthusiastically, but that doesn’t deter Shouto. He moves to you, extends his hand to help you up from the ground, and pulls you close by your waist. You’re flush against his chest, close enough to feel his heartbeat, the erratic thrumming a twin to your own. His left hand grazes the back of your thigh, right underneath your ass. His hand is warm, firmly grasping the meat of your thigh. Though only slightly warmer than the rest of his body, his touch feels searing to your invigorated nerves.

“Tell me if I’m going too far.”

“You’re not.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Go further.”

His lips meet yours then, and your body turns to putty. He lifts you with ease, a perk of having that immense Pro Hero strength, and rests you on your couch.

“What’re you doing?” You pant when he breaks away, his hands at the button of your slacks.

“You asked me if I wanted to eat some of this.” He says, kneeling down in front of you. “And I do.”

You shimmy out of your pants, and Shouto wastes no time. His mouth presses a hot kiss against your clothed sex before peeling the offending material to the side, the flat of his tongue stroking up and swirling around your clit. You whimper, hips bucking into his face. Shouto is a man on a mission, mouth unyielding, groaning at the taste of you.

“You taste so good, angel.” He mutters against you, “Better than the soba.”

“Let it go.” You groan, though you can’t stay angry at him for long, not when he’s wrapping his lips around your clit. You can feel him smiling, the little shit, at making you flustered.

When he sinks his fingers into you, curling his digits and stroking the spongy roof that lived there, it’s over for you. Your thighs squeeze the sides of his head as you cum and Shouto moans, his free hand squeezing the tent that had grown between his own legs. Rolling waves of pleasure overtake you as you gasp Shouto’s name, his fingers and mouth unrelenting until your body calms.

He’s peppering the inside of your thighs with warm, wet kisses, and you swear he’s about to go in for seconds before you interrupt him.

“Bedroom, Shouto.”

At your command, he’s lifting you again, carrying you first to your bathroom (you should’ve clarified the direction) and then to your bedroom, laying you down on your mattress. Shouto is quick to undress, pulling his pants and boxers down in quick succession. You sit up from your bed, biting your lip at the sight of his cock. You can’t help but kiss the pink tip, salty precum staining your lips, before taking him completely into your mouth. Shouto lets out a shaky breath as you work your mouth on his cock.

“You’re– a lot better at this than you are at sauce making.”

Any protest you might’ve had dies with the firm grip he holds on the back of your head.

“You’re doing great, angel. So good for me, so perfect.” He whispers, encouraging you as he shallowly thrusts into your mouth, careful not to overwhelm you. “Mouth feels so good on my cock.”

He pulls away, suddenly, his breath labored, and gently presses you back into your mattress. You strip yourself free of your remaining clothing and Shouto pauses.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, gazing up from your spot underneath him.

“You’re beautiful.” Shouto says, a hand moving to grasp your breast. He seizes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and you arch into his touch. “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you in the restaurant.”

You can’t imagine that- Shouto gazing at you while you did your silly little tasks at the soba shop. Wanting you like this, stoking the embers of longing within him like you had for him.

“Me too.” You whisper, and Shouto slowly thrusts into you, one hand steadying itself on your hip and another on your breast. Your body screams with the need to touch him, too, so you run your hand up the length of his abs from underneath his shirt. It’s unfair, you think, that his shirt is still on. His body was sculpted by the gods themselves, all muscles and lean sinew. You think of the shirtless photos that exist of him on the internet, either for hero photo shoots or paparazzi shots of his suit ripped open during battle.

And now that same man is above you, rolling his hips into you, whispering into your ear about how wet and tight and perfect you are around him.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, angel.” He mutters against your neck. “Let me kiss you more.”

Your lips move sloppily together, rhythm dictated by Shouto’s deep thrusts inside of you, tongues working together as you drive each other closer and closer still to the edge. You cum again, throbbing around his cock, arching your back as he continues rocking against you. Shouto’s not far behind you, a strangled gasp spilling from his lips as his hips still.

Shouto rolls over, hand finding yours in the darkness. His thumb strokes over yours, watching you gently as your breath evens out.

“Shouldn’t have spent so much money on some shitty soba.” You mumble, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll get lunch somewhere else for a change.” Shouto says, pressing a kiss to your head. “Preferably with you.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

You were starting to get sick of soba, anyway.

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