#Teen Romance

[lacy-0hlacy]

Freddie can fix me ❗️

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.2

AN: this is still being edited and I'm not entirely sure if it'll be everyone's cup of tea. it'll be a slow burn, and a long fic but I have an idea laid out! each chapter will be around 3k just to keep things spaced and easy. Thank you for reading!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build. I'm already 20,000 words into this shit so if your ready lets ride.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Lets Begin

Your arranged marriage with Toji Fushiguro had been quick and unexpected.

The black sheep of the Zenin clan wasn’t exactly known for his well-rounded reputation, teetering on the edge of severing all ties to his family at any given moment.

He hadn’t been in contact with them for years, and financial support on their end was nonexistent. He was constantly broke, especially after Megumi was born. He assumed it was retaliation for marrying outside the clan—without their approval. But when his late wife passed, he had already taken on her surname, somewhat severing himself from the dingey clan he had once called "family."

After her death, he picked up side gigs, earning just enough to provide for the two of them. Megumi was older now, around thirteen, which made it easier to leave him alone for longer periods. Toji often took days-long "business" trips.

He’ll admit he wasn’t a great father, but he had kept his promise of keeping Megumi away from the Zenin clan and that sorcerer bullshit.

That was until he received an official notification from the Zenin clan head.

He hadn’t heard from the bastard in years, only to be met with a request—a demand—for his compliance in an arranged marriage. Initially, he planned to refuse. He wasn’t interested in an arranged marriage, wanted nothing to do with the sorcerer world, and even less to do with the Zenin clan. Hell, the only reason he bothered showing up at the clan house that day was to set that fucker straight.

Then he saw you—a pretty little thing. You couldn’t have been more than ten years younger than him, likely just turning seventeen, maybe eighteen. He couldn’t say for sure. But you were just too young for this shit—he knew that much.

They’d already brought you along for the proposal, as if they knew it would change his mind when he saw you. And, fuck, if they weren’t right.

You were beautiful. Polished and respectable. Speaking in low tones like the proper little housewife he was sure they’d trained you to be. He could see the endgame here—the reasoning behind pushing this arrangement on him. It wasn’t subtle.

The higher-ups likely wanted a presence in his home—someone to keep tabs on him and Megumi, no doubt. They hadn’t explicitly stated as much, but Toji had caught whispers through the grapevine about their interest in his son’s cursed technique. And with his own tendency to remain elusive, (and with all the whispers of him being titled a Sorcerer Killer) it wasn’t surprising that they’d want to keep a closer watch on him, too.

The thought of them using someone barely older than Megumi to achieve their goals left a bitter taste in his mouth. The arrangement reeked of manipulation—a calculated ploy to plant a spy in his home, someone to funnel information back to your clan, his clan, and the higher-ups.

Toji didn’t give a rats ass about his reputation, but it was clear they were fishing for confirmation. Likely hoping to uncover all of the unconfirmed truths. No matter how much he tried to brush it off, the whole setup just didn’t sit right with him.

But when he caught the way your eyes stayed steady, unwavering. You looked nearly indifferent to the situation, but he could tell this wasn’t what you wanted. It couldn’t be. You were really just a child. And yet, that dead expression of yours sealed the deal.

He accepted.

Another mouth to feed, another brat to deal with, no doubt. But maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to help keep Megumi in line while he was out working. Better that than leaving you to the wolves. He understood the clan system all too well—how they saw their women, how they treated them.

He’d seen how young brides were shuffled like pawns, in a game of chess. Paired with whichever man could best serve the clan’s interests. The thought of you being handed off to another pathetic bastard made his stomach churn. At least here, under his roof, you wouldn’t have to endure that.

Call it generosity if you wanted. But if he were honest, it wasn’t that. You reminded him of his late wife—the fearlessness bordering on defiance in your eyes. The sheer willpower it must’ve taken to show up in the first place. Most girls in your situation would have cried or begged, pleading not to marry some old geezer, especially one as infamous in the community.

But you didn’t beg. Didn’t cry. You just stood there, composed, unshaken. Bored. You could’ve been out shopping for groceries.

He could respect that.

And like that, the black sheep of the Zenin clan would become your husband. Your family. And your sole protector. 

He remembers the quiet way you stepped into his apartment for the first time, your gaze sweeping the room with a calm, measured air. There was no hesitation, no unease—just a quiet assessment of the space, as though you were cataloging everything in that sharp mind of yours.

The look on your face didn’t match someone your age. You carried the weight of forced maturity, a burden that stirred old painful memories he immediately shoved back down.

He could tell you were judging, though you didn’t say anything out loud. It was in the faint crease of your brow, the almost imperceptible way your lips tightened. It sparked a flicker of irritation in him, the kind he couldn’t entirely shake. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to stay, yeah? 

But, color him surprised, you didn’t say a word. You’d easily found your way to his bedroom, setting your things down, navigating the house easily. Then, as if you’d been living there for years, you got straight to work.

No requests, no questions—just quiet purpose.

It was like you’d already claimed your space, like you’d accepted the role handed to you without a second thought. He wasn't necessarily gonna ask you to do all that, but hell he sure as hell wasn't going to complain. 

Your former clan had trained you well. He could see it in the efficiency of your movements, the way you moved through the apartment as though it were second nature. No questions asked, no instructions, no unnecessary chatter. Just straight down to business.

Toji didn’t linger.

He slipped out quietly, already lost in his thoughts about the job he had to handle. He’d be gone for two days—maybe one, if he played his cards right. Not that he needed to tell you. You didn’t need to know the details. You were here to stay put, to take care of things while he was gone. Simple as that.

As he rounded the corner outside the apartment, that nagging feeling crept in—a vague itch at the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something.

He paused mid-step, frowning as he patted his pockets. Wallet? Keys? No, he had those.

His smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly shrugged it off, muttering under his breath, "Can't be that important."

Megumi had taken the long way home today.

Several boys in his class had been pissing him off to no end, and he’d been itching to punch something. He needed a distraction—something to cool him off. He really couldn’t afford to get into another fight. The pitying looks his teachers gave him felt degrading, especially when Toji never bothered to show to pick him up.

The long way home was scenic, at least. Trees and plants lined the path, offering some peace as he trudged along. He wasn’t sure whether Toji would even be home when he arrived. He never really knew for certain.

And honestly, Megumi wasn’t in the mood to hear his dad’s loud TV shows or his obnoxious phone calls. If he wasn’t, then the apartment would just be empty, cold, and silent.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

What Megumi really cared about was dinner.

The fridge had been empty for weeks, and his deadbeat dad hadn’t bothered to restock it. Megumi had been scraping by, finding ways to earn enough cash for food. Sometimes he’d deliver things for the neighbors or help them with spring cleaning. Those odd jobs usually kept him going, but lately, there hadn’t been any requests. The lack of work only adding to his frustration.

He didn’t interact with Toji much. Their relationship walked a thin line between hatred and indifference.  Most of the time, Megumi ignored his father, as much as Toji seemed to ignore him. On the rare occasions Toji remembered Megumi existed, it always ended in chaos—loud arguments, dismissive grunts, relentless teasing, or worse, painfully awkward attempts to act like a parent.

It had been that way ever since Megumi turned eleven. And today, more than anything, he was just hungry. Too hungry to fight with his absentee father, even if he was home. Too tired to care.

Walking up the stairs to his apartment, something caught his eye. The kitchen window was open. That stopped him in his tracks.

Toji wasn’t the kind of guy to leave windows open, even in decent weather—a weird thing to notice, but Megumi was always acutely aware of his surroundings, always attuned to his father’s patterns.

Megumi made his way inside, creeping slowly and so, so quietly. Peeking around the corner, he froze.

Someone was in the kitchen—a girl. No, a woman?

Your back was to him as you worked at the counter, slicing onions with quick, precise movements. He blinked, his sharp eyes narrowing. You were young—maybe just a few years older than him.

Younger than Toji’s usual type, that was for sure. You didn’t fit. Toji wasn’t a stranger to bringing women around the apartment, but they never looked like you. And they never lingered. Most were gone by breakfast, hurrying out with an awkward smile and a strained “bye” when they spotted Megumi at the table.

He watched you chop onions, noticing the glint of a ring on your finger. So, you were married—

“You can come out from there, y’know.”

Megumi flinched slightly, caught off guard. For a brief moment, he felt the sting of embarrassment—spying and getting caught really wasn’t a good look—but he quickly reminded himself this was his home.

He had no reason to feel embarrassed. Straightening his posture, he stepped out from behind the doorway, his sharp eyes fixed on you as you casually wiped your hands on a towel.

You turned to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips. The first thing he noticed was how pretty you were.

Tall and poised, you stood at least a head above him, dressed in modest, traditional clothing that seemed entirely out of place in this shabby apartment. There was something elegant about you, a kind of refinement that felt worlds away from the usual sleaziness of his father’s one-night stands.

“Who are you? Why’re you here?” His tone came out sharper than he intended. Unintentionally huffy and childish, and it made him pause a second.

You studied him for a moment, and for some reason his scowl almost endearing. You introduce yourself and explain, simply, that you lived here.

Megumi’s brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms, his voice ever defiant, no doubt pushed from the shitty day he just had. “You don’t live here. Leave.”

The attempt at a threat would’ve been more intimidating if his stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl, easily breaking the tension. You bit back a laugh, quickly covering your mouth, but it was hard not to find the situation amusing.

The way he stood there, furrowed brow and stubborn glare, reminded you of a fussy kitten—all bristling fur and misplaced bravado. It was clear he wasn’t used to strangers lingering in his space, and his defensiveness only made him seem all the more adorable. Still, he was being serious—you really shouldn’t laugh.

He looked so much like Toji—same sharp features, same brooding energy—minus the flat hair and scar. You’d heard about him before coming here, mentioned briefly by your clan head, but the reality of meeting him was something different. He was much cuter than you’d expected, truly embodying the “fussy kitty” vibe, and you had to resist the urge to tease him outright.

“Ah,” lightly, your tone as soothing as you could make it without giggling, “but I’m in the middle of cooking. Why don’t we eat first, and then we can talk?”

Your tone was gentle, your smile genuine, and Megumi couldn’t sense any malice from you. Besides, whatever you were making smelled incredible, and his stomach had been growling from the moment he walked in.

His gaze shifted to the counter, where ingredients and half-prepped dishes were laid out. He hesitated. Sure, his dad had brought women home before, but none of them ever bothered to cook—especially not for him. Against his better judgment, he gave a small, reluctant nod.

And before long, the two of you were sitting at the kitchen table, three plates set neatly in front of you. It was late, but you still held onto the idea that Toji might come home. You made light conversation with Megumi, trying to get a feel for the boy you now understood to be your stepson.

You’d been briefed by your clan about Toji and his son—vague instructions to “watch Toji” and “get on his son's good side.” They hadn’t been specific about why, but their motives were never selfless. Still, you had no intention of playing those games. Not fully.

What you wanted was to build an honest connection with your new family, especially with this grumpy, sharp-eyed boy who seemed to have a chip on his shoulder as big as his father’s. It’s the first time you’d really been away from the clan estate, so this was just really nice.

As the meal went on, you began to learn little things about him. He remained distant, of course, his responses clipped and matter-of-fact—but the warmth of a good meal and your gentle smile seemed to soften him, if just slightly. You managed to coax his name out of him, and though he said it without much fanfare, it felt like a small victory.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

It was a Friday night, and you figured Megumi would be around the house tomorrow. As you finished the surprisingly comfortable dinner, your eyes lingered on the third, untouched plate at the table—Toji’s. You wondered, briefly, if he’d show up at all.

“He probably won’t be back tonight,” Megumi said, breaking your train of thought. His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he had long since grown used to this routine. He shoveled another spoonful of food into his mouth before adding, “Probably be gone for a few days.”

This surprised you, sure, but you weren’t going to complain anytime soon. As long as you didn’t have to go back to that horrid clan house, you could put up with a missing husband. In fact, you kind of preferred it this way.

You laughed softly at Megumi’s puffed-up cheeks, causing his ears to dust red as he swallowed quickly. Your constant smiles still seemed to throw him off guard.

The conversation flowed easily—a mix of lighthearted bickering and probing questions on both ends. Megumi was really curious about the random woman that showed up in his home.

“What’s the ring for?” he asked suddenly, his sharp gaze flicking to your hand. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying curiosity, as if he hadn’t noticed the simple band until now.

Your fingers instinctively twisted the warm metal as you glanced down at it, the question catching you off guard.

“Ah, well, I’ve just married,” you replied softly, your voice carrying a faint melancholy despite your attempt to sound neutral. Your eyes zone out as you stare at the heavy band.

“It’s still new…An arrangement by my family.” You hadn’t meant to let that slip, but the truth clung to the edges of your words. Quickly, you smiled, avoiding a damper on the evening. You quickly reached over to ladle another spoonful of food onto Megumi’s empty plate.

“Arranged marriage? With who?” he asked, the concept not foreign but undeniably unsettling. You seemed like such a nice person, except for the fact that you were sitting in his kitchen—someone he’d assumed was just another one of his father’s passing flings.

But unlike the others, you’d cooked for him and his father, cleaned the kitchen till it looked better than it had in weeks. And now you were sitting down to dinner with him, as if you had nothing else you’d rather be doing.

Though he’d only known you for a few hours, he didn’t think you’d be the type to cheat on your husband or worm your way into their lives without cause. Maybe that was just his full stomach talking.

His mind caught up to him, the pieces falling into place.

“…Not…Toji. Right?” His voice faltered, and you couldn’t help but think how strange it was to hear him refer to his father by his first name.

You let out a soft laugh at his shocked expression, restraining yourself from patting his head, before nodding your own. “The one and only,”

The look on his face was comical—brows raised high, his mouth slightly agape. But beneath the initial surprise, there was something darker—an unease that settled into the lines of his frown. Wary, guarded. He didn’t like this, not one bit. 

After dinner, you sent Megumi off to bed, tidying up the plates left behind. He didn’t wait for you to finish cleaning, retreating to his room with his thoughts spinning.

As he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in his head. His father was married—to you, of all people. Supposedly. And for some reason, that knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

It was weird. Megumi had left the house empty and returned to find you. If what you were saying was true, you were about to take over as his stepmother. He wouldn’t put it past his shitty father to pop up suddenly married—it was exactly the kind of thing Toji would do.

Still, the whole situation didn’t sit right with him. An arranged marriage wasn’t out of the question. You seemed way too sweet and proper to have chosen someone like Toji, willingly. Megumi’s knowledge of clan life, hierarchy, or how arranged marriages worked in the sorcerer world, was frustratingly limited thanks to his father’s insistence on keeping him far removed from all of it. 

Then there was your age. You were young—too young for his dad. Closer to his age than Toji’s. Was Toji an even bigger pervert than he originally thought? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to settle down. What was this about, then? Did he just want a housemaid? Someone to clean up after him and Megumi while he went off on his “business trips”?

It didn’t seem fair to you. What were you getting out of this arrangement? You did say your family set it up…but what could have possibly led you to agree to marry someone like Toji?

The more Megumi thought about it, the more wrong it all felt. You seemed too kind, too proper, too... normal for this situation. Surely there was more to the story. Were you being forced into this? Did you have your own reasons that you weren’t sharing?

But then again, there was always the chance you were lying.

People lied all the time. You could be some psycho ex-girlfriend worming your way back into his father’s life. Or worse, a manipulative stranger with motives that had nothing to do with Toji at all. Maybe you’d rob the place blind, and by the time he woke up there’d be nothing left.

You might’ve seemed nice now, but Megumi wasn’t about to take anything at face value.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He didn’t know what to make of you, couldn’t figure out whether to trust the calm sincerity you projected or to see it for what it might be: a well-crafted facade.

One thing was certain—he wasn’t going to let his guard down so easily.

He’d just have to wait it out, keep an eye on you, and see what happened when Toji finally dragged his ass back home.

p.2?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

I will also be posting updates here:

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/obsessedjjk

come home

[geminithetwins]

Timeline 1: Sol doesn't know Sunjae knows her, still he remembers and loves her unconditionally

Timeline 2: Sol chases after Sunjae, he falls in love with her even harder

Timeline 3: Teenage Sol rejects SunJae, he waits for her 15 years, didn't waste a second when Adult Sol says she liked him too, confessing his feeling then and there.

Timeline 4: Sol keeps hiding from Sunjae, he finds out the reason and says he would die happily if means he could have memories with her.

Timeline 5: Sunjae forgets Sol's existence, but he fell in love the moment he sees her.

If they love you, they'll love you no matter what- flaws, traits, features, looks, races, classes, genders, or religions. SunJae is the living proof of that.

[fandomnerd9602]

Nerdy!Natasha slumps on her bed as Y/N enters her room…

Y/N: what’s wrong?

Natasha: those stupid cheerleaders said I should wear contacts and get a boob job

Y/N: don’t listen to them, people like that peak in high school.

Y/N takes Natasha’s face in their hands…

Y/N: and bestie…you’re beautiful as you are

Natasha: (teary) thank you

Natasha takes the initiative and kisses Y/N softly…

Natasha: (whispers) my detka

[koishiro]

# - “𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐃𝐎? 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?”

☆彡 1 : 29pm

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : In which Megumi has a hidden crush on you and plans to keep it that way until a certain pink haired boy and 6’3 man-child take it upon themselves to help.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : The fluffiest of fluff

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

megumi fushiguro is not new to the feeling of embarrassment.

In fact, he’s quite used to it considering he’s best friends with Itadori Yuji and Nobara Kugisaki, who apparently can’t go a single day without causing some sort of a scene. As well as being raised by a certain white haired, 6’3 man adorned with a black blindfold.

“Stop it! Why didn’t you order your own if you’re just gonna eat off my plate?!” A certain pink haired boy screamed, slapping away the greedy hands of the ginger.

Nobara quickly whips back her hands to her chest, cradling them with a look of offence for one, being slapped and two, being denied food, replied; “maybe because I wasn’t hungry then?!”

Yuji stared at Nobara with a blank face, “go order now then!”

Now it was Nobara’s turn to stare at Yuji, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “No! cause it’ll take too long and I won’t be hungry by then!”

“Yeah cause you’ll have eaten all of mine!” At this point, Megumi wanted to slam his head onto the table as if to wake him up from this embarrassment. But he couldn’t, because if that were to happen then he’d gain the attention of a certain y/c/h sat just three tables away.

All Megumi had done since they arrived 30 minutes ago was sit in a corner booth, with his head turned towards you and stare at your angelic form while sat opposite the two loudest idiots he calls his best friends with half his face buried in his high collar.

That was until you turned your pretty head towards them. Their table. Him.

At this realisation, Megumi’s eyes widened and a blush crept up his neck and stained his cheeks as he quickly whipped his head in the opposite direction, conveniently towards the wall next to him.

Or maybe not so convenient considering he probably looked like an idiot staring at a plain wall. But what else was he supposed to do when the one person he actually liked was staring straight at him?

Well, maybe not at him exactly but he was grouped with these idiots considering he was sat at the same table so that counted for something.

This was certainly not the way he wanted you to notice him.

And this did not go unnoticed by a particular boy sat opposite him, suddenly forgetting the petty argument moments before as he he took notice of his friends red face hidden in the collar of his uniform. Also, why was he staring at a wall? He’d barely even touched his food?

Observing the repetitive way Megumi’s eyes would go back and forth from darting around the cafe to quickly look at something or someone across the room.

Confused, Yuji’s eyes slowly followed where Megumi’s went.

Oh.

Oh.

The next day, Yuji took it upon himself to help his best friend out. And who better to recruit than the one and (thankfully) only Satoru Gojo, who was very keen on taking part in this plan.

What kind of adoptive father would he be if he didn’t help his growing son find love. Just the thought brought a tear to his eye.

Sat behind the dark haired boy in question, Yuji, as inconspicuous as he could possibly be (considering he was sat next to Nobara), raised his hand in a thumbs up motion. A signal that the plan was ready.

Satoru took notice of this as well as the longing gaze Megumi held as he tried to discreetly take a glance at you every few seconds. How had he not noticed before?

With a very loud and very obvious fake cough, Satoru gained the attention of his students. Satoru went to stand from his chair when he accidentally knocked some books over which were conveniently (or not so conveniently) placed on the corner of his desk where the said books landed on his feet, perfect.

“Ak! I’m injured!! Man down!” Their teacher yelled as he dramatically fell to the floor with the back of his hand placed on his forehead as if he was in one of Nobara’s dramas. He probably took inspiration from them actually.

The students, clearly not fazed in the slightest, turned back to their previous conversations ignoring the cries for help coming from the floor. Except for you of course.

Standing up and making your way towards your “injured” teacher, you crouched down to eye level as he lay motionless on the floor as if already succumbed to his fatal injuries if not for him peeking from under the arm that lay across his face.

“OH! Y/n-chan! My saviour! I feel as though I may not make it…” the said teacher explained in an overly dramatic sigh. “I’m sure you will Gojo” you replied with a slight pat on his stomach. “But if I don’t… I want you to do something for me-”

Before Gojo could ramble on any further he was cut short, “I’m not buying you mochi” you stated with a blank face.

“I understand why you would think that but no” he started before quickly switching back into his role, “these books that just so happened to fall in unison onto my now clearly fractured foot, needed to be delivered to principal Yaga! Oh what am I to do now!” Your teacher explained in an almost pained voice while flailing around on the floor.

“Why doesn’t Y/n do it!” The pink haired boy popped up from behind Megumi, who had been watching the ridiculous scene play out. “What a wonderful idea Yuji! Oh could you Y/n-chan? Would you help an injured man like me deliver these urgently needed books for me?” Gojo’s voice now laced with faux desperation while you were left confused, did he owe principal Yaga something again? Is that what this was about?

“Uhm, I suppose so, sure.” You could barely get the words out before Gojo jumped up onto his feet, realising his mistake and quickly leaning against his desk, the “fractured” foot elevated in the air. “Megumi! Why don’t you help Y/n-chan out huh? Be a gentleman will you?”

Megumi, already figuring out what he was up to planned on declining before he set his eyes on you. He didn’t care if he came off as rude, but to you? Megumi didn’t want you to think he was some sort of high and mighty jerk. That was the last thing he wanted.

So with a huff, Megumi stood, stuffing both hands into his pockets as he made his way towards you.

“You didn’t need to help me. They aren’t that heavy anyway” you tried explaining as you both walked towards Yaga’s office, trying to fill the silence with something, anything.

“It’s fine, really.” Did you not like his presence? Why were you acting so awkward? “So… your friends are pretty loud huh” you chuckled out.

Megumi grimaced at the recent memory, “You remember that?” He prayed that you wouldn’t remember that time, or at least not remember him.

“How could I not, it was pretty entertaining. Especially the way you stared at a wall” so you did notice him. “It was better than listening to them squabble.” He grumbled out with a sour look plastered on his face until he heard the prettiest sound leave your mouth, reminding him of a soft melody.

You laughed. Sure it was at him but you laughed at him. He made you laugh!

“Squabble? What are you? An old man?” You managed to wheeze out, the previous awkwardness quickly forgotten about.

“Y’know, with the way you’re teasing me and if I didn’t know any better, I might think you like me” what was meant to come out as a joke only started a chain of teasing on both parts. “I could say the same to you mr. Fushiguro” you retorted, a sly smile sneaking it’s way onto your face.

“And if I do? Would that be okay?” The sudden seriousness his voice held startled you. Slowing to a stop, you looked up at his tall frame and saw how genuine and truthful his eyes were causing a blush to quickly rise to your cheeks.

Averting your gaze towards the floor, you answered with a small smile,

“I suppose it would”

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[minsdesire444]

[hneymoonvio]

i only want a bf so i can think bout him when i’m listening to lana del rey unrealesed love songs

but then i remember that i hate boys my age 🙏🏼

[yourdustonourhorizon]

Someone: Apollo what do you think about color of love?

Apollo : it's black.

Someone: but it's believed to be red.

Someone: ...

Someone: oh I'm so sorry I got it man.

Apollo: *sobbing

Apollo: why all of my teen romances fucked up?

[chocsra]

"Gentleman, you say?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Reader is implied to be fem!, could still be gn!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Contents: your mafioso roomate being annoying, fifteen era, mafia! reader, pre-relationship, idiots in love, teen romance, fluff, ooc? chuuya (idk)

Sorry for grammar! Not proofread!

Working in the Port Mafia wasn't so hard.

You were granted a new family, money and status. There were a select few members who were noteably young, as young as teenagers. This was mainly because of the gifted, limiting manpower into making criminal organizations choose children as their subordinates.

You didn't really mind it--being a kid in the mafia. It had it's ups and downs, yes, you did murder; but what would you have been really doing if you tried to live as a civilian as a gifted?

One thing you didn't like though--even hated, was the Port Mafia dormitory.

Constant parties, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and cigarettes in hallways, and don't start on the drama. Your only source of peace was the empty unit next to yours--at least that gave some sort of silence in the dreadful nights of Yokohama. Cramped in the tight apartment that secretly held mafioso teenagers, ones which the other residents thought of as school delinquents.

Until that asshole took it; the short ginger boy with a permanent scowl on his face, the boy who had the best style you had ever seen. And you hated it. Ever since you were fifteen, he and his smelly bandaged friend would storm into his apartment; have the loudest arguments--no, fights in the middle of the night.

Before, if you couldn't sleep, a nice cup of hot milk and basking in the night's breeze would do the trick. Now, there was a 50/50 chance he was there smoking on the balcony next to you, alone or with that annoying mummy boy.

It's been a few months since then, and you were sure that he hasn't even recognized you once as his neighbour; and it pissed you off, considering the amount of sleepless nights he caused you. It was safe to say you had one-sided-beef with the boy who used screaming as his fight or flight response.

And because finding someone absolutely insufferable meant asking numerous people about them, you asked a few of your subordinates who were into drama about said boy, eager to learn more information about him. Because he pissed you off, is why.

"Oh, you mean Chuuya? He like, used to be the King of the Sheep before he joined the mafia, I'm pretty sure." Your friend chided, you and a few other girls were standing in front the doorframe of Kouyou's office, all surrounded in a circle. "Really? That's wild." You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. "Yeah, and the guy who recruited him is that emo guy; he's supposed to be Bosses successor, right?" She asks, twirling a strand of her hair. "His name is Dazai, and yeah. They're called 'Double Black' or something." Your other friend joined in.

Just as you were talking, a tall woman with ginger hair and pale skin stepped out of her office; her elegent hands clasped together under her pink kimono.

"What are you girls talking about?" The woman questioned, her hair tightly held up by long gold pins. "[Y/N] was just asking about Chuuya, sis." Your friend replied, you scoffed in response. "I was just asking because he's an annoying neighbour!" The other girls laughed. "Oh, Chuuya, I was recently requested to take him under my wing." Kouyou responded, revealing more information. "Actually? What do you think of him?" One of the quieter girls asked enthusiastically, the woman only chuckled in response.

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll say."

Kouyou's words only echoed in your ears as you lay in bed, a pillow ontop of your chest. "Gentleman.." You repeat, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "Gentleman my ass!" You kick the wall next to your bed to no avail, tightly wrapping your arms around the pillow. "If he was, he would've seen how tired my eyes are from not sleeping.. and finally shut the fuck up.." You mutter with heavy eyelids. It was around 2 am. And it was one of those quiet nights, thankfully; but you still had trouble falling asleep.

As you were about to finally drift off to sleep, cradling your pillow in your arms; a loud strum of a guitar sprung you awake. It sounded like a electric guitar, and the person playing it had a shit ton of energy. A sultry voice sang melodically as loud waves of music crashed from his guitar. You had an idea of who it was.

Storming out of your cramped apartment, only in a thin t-shirt along with loose shorts, you scrammed over to Chuuya's apartment door angerly. "I swear to God.." You curse under your breath, the damn guitar still audible. Closing your fist, you firmly knock on the boy's door.

Knock, knock

The fast-paced strum of a rock song quickly stopped, light footsteps could be heard behind the steel shaft, before he finally unlocks it.

"Yeah?" The boy cracks the door open, he had his short ginger hair down; and he wasn't wearing the black fedora and choker like he usually did. A red and white electric base guitar slung lightly over his shoulder and stomach, the cord connected to the bottom, leading to what you assumed was his bedroom. Chuuya was wearing loose black sweatpants along with an oversized white t-shirt. Even though the boy was small and lean, you couldn't help but notice the exposed muscles on his forearms. 'Shit.' You cursed at yourself, before meeting his stormy blue eyes once more.

"You're so damn loud all the time, can't you play that at another time of day?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "There are people trying to sleep." It wasn't the safest option to yell at a criminal who had possible connections you had no idea of, but you were also a criminal, and would definitely kick his ass if he tried anything, right?

Chuuya looked at you with a slight frown, but you were right in the end, so he sighed and ran his lithe fingers through his ginger locks. "My bad." He mutters, feeling a bit embarrassed. "That's all you can say?" You murmur, you felt a little bad, but he was the waking cause of your terrible eyebags. "You could be a little more quiet next time." You add on, looking off to the side.

"Yeah, I know. My fault." The redhead said, apologizing begrudgingly. You only sighed and assured it's okay now before you soon left. Knowingly storming off into your apartment as the boy watched you with guilt yet irritation on his face.

Although the next morning, you rubbed your eyes and opened the door to take out the trash. Only noticing a small box infront of your doorstep with a yellow sticky note on it, you crouched down to properly read it.

'Sorry we had to meet that way, neigbour. Take this as a peace offering.

- Chuuya N.'

As you opened the box curiously, it was homemade packaged bento, along with a small corgi made out of rice on the side. The stupidity of it made you laugh a little. Even though his handwriting made you question if he knew how to write at all before this; a smile still crept on your face as you took the box and note inside.

"Quite the gentleman, huh?"

[comesatimecomesashadow]

her *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ carl grimes x gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ teen angst, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, teen romance, semi-slow burn, fluff

fic type *ೃ༄ one shot (?) | part ii

summary *ೃ༄ in which you fall in love with the freckle-filled, blue eyed boy who wears a sheriff's hat.

note *ೃ༄ this is what i do instead of my three week old homework, enjoy !

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Arriving in Alexandria was an odd thing. Here, people tried to build a ‘civilization’, as if the world outside the walls wasn’t gone to shit already. You often ventured outside the walls without anyone knowing — Anyone excluding Enid, of course — because you were afraid of becoming weak. Immersing yourself in Deanna’s delusion would do nothing for your survival, you were sure of it. 

   When Rick and his group were welcomed inside the walls, you noticed their rough demeanors and the rugged way in which they carried themselves. They were a contrast to the people of Alexandria and because of that, their presence alluded you, even when others were weary of them. But you stayed away. Not because you were scared of them too, but because you’d rather not get close to anyone again. Regardless of what your instincts wanted you to do. 

   Enid would sometimes hang out with you alone or go with Ron and the others to fill the time that you all now had. You usually just spent the days in the attic of the empty house down the street. You’d heard a lot about the blue eyed boy with the sheriff’s hat from Enid, he seemed kinda awkward to you but you didn’t fault him. It was probably strange going from having to fight walkers 24/7 to now having the time for video games; You remember feeling that way too. 

   You were no stranger to the crushing weight of loneliness that followed all those who survived. Sometimes, you wonder if you should’ve just let yourself be eaten. But you were afraid you’d be betraying the last thing your dad told you. ‘Live! Fight and Live!’, you remembered his words vividly. You also remembered the screams that came next. 

   The leaves crunched under your boots as you walked towards your secret hangout. 

   No one, not even Enid, knew where it was. It was the place in the forest you went to whenever you felt lonely, it was a comfort to you most of the time. There in the secluded spot, you had a box with a broken lock hidden with leaves and sticks, it was full of your scavenged art supplies. Drawing was something you liked to do ever since you were a kid, it was one of the only things the apocalypse hadn’t taken from you. 

   As you approached your secret hideout, you noticed a familiar boy with the famous sheriff's hat sitting against the log you always sat at. You bit your lip and walked a little faster. ‘What was he doing here?’ You were a little upset at this. 

   “..How did you find this place?” your words were clear and loud enough so he could hear. You didn’t intend for it to come off as mean as it sounded, but then again maybe that was the best choice. You’d met different groups before coming to Alexandria and people always tended to be selfish people. Even in Alexandria, you noticed how most of the kids your age were selfish, hence why you hid your secret space even from Ron and his group. Why would this guy be any different? 

   He got up and met your eyes, seeming like a deer caught in headlights. He left your sketchbook on the ground. “I was just- Uh, I was walking around and found this place. Do you.. Hang around here, or..?” You could tell he was nervous and frankly, it felt awkward. 

   You sat on the ground next to the not-so-hidden box and grabbed the notebook he left on the ground. He opted to sit next to you. “To answer your question, yeah. I hang here by myself- most of the time at least.” You flipped to an empty page and grabbed some of your pens and markers from the chest. 

   The boy glanced down at your drawing, observing you. Then he began to speak again, less nervous this time. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Carl.” 

   “...” You kept your eyes on the notebook. Should you be friendly with him? After a few moments of silence you told him your name and could see him slightly smile in the corner of your eye. “..Are you gonna stay here?” 

   “Do you mind it?” he asked. You shook your head. He seemed harmless for the most part, maybe he wasn’t like Ron and his friends. “Then.. Could I come here sometimes?” 

   “Why do you wanna?” you asked him, finally meeting his blue eyes. You noticed the freckles on his fair skin and the way his hair fell over his face was kinda funny to you. He was.. Something. Carl looked away from you, contemplating his words. 

   “Just cause.” He said with a small smile. You laughed a little at his words, sometimes it was hard to forget you were just kids. 

   “Alright then.” 

   The next few weeks, your routine began to change. 

   Normally, you’d wake up some time before the afternoon and get ready for the day. Afterwards, you’d help Olivia with the inventory and keeping track of rations. You’d go out on a run if you were asked to and if you weren't, your time was spent at your secret spot or with Enid. 

   However, ever since formally meeting Carl. Your secret hangout spot has become a shared secret hangout spot. He drew comic book characters on one of the notebooks in the chest at the spot, brought you art supplies when he came back from runs and even brought some of his own comic books. You noticed the way his facial expressions changed when he was immersed in his comics, the way he did that awkward side smile of his sometimes, you even caught him stealing glances at you sometimes. 

   But you never addressed it. 

   Not even when you began to find yourself disappointed when he missed a day at the spot. You had to remind yourself that he was just someone you met, it wasn’t like he belonged to you or anything. It wasn’t like you expected him to be there when you knew he had his own life too. 

   You told yourself then that you’d try to distance yourself. 

   Falling for someone, especially in the middle of a damn apocalypse, couldn’t go well. It just couldn’t. But it was hard to distance yourself when he seemed to be everywhere. Whenever you helped Olivia with keeping track of the inventory, he was there with his stupid, dorky smile and innumerous freckles. When you took a usual afternoon walk to clear your head, he waved at you and even joined you with his little sister in tow. 

   He was everywhere and that made it increasingly harder for you to bury your feelings away. 

   “What’re you drawing this time?” Carl asked. Your pencil stopped at the sound of his voice. You looked up and smiled involuntarily. For some reason, ever since you met him, you started to smile more often. Maybe he was just that easy to talk to, but you hated it sometimes. 

   “Walkers.” You gazed back down at your notebook that contained the scribbles and doodles of dismembered walkers and you even drew some of them with funny expressions and speech bubbles. “I know it’s twisted, considering they're the reason the world is ..shit. But I dunno,” you shrugged, wondering what he would think. Carl looked over your notebook, his hair tickling your shoulder. 

   Then he laughed. 

    “Is this one giggling? It looks funny,” A smile graced his features and a warm feeling crept into your heart at the sight of it. 

   “Yeah..!” You giggled and shaded in the drawing with some highlighters. 

   “When did you get into drawing?” 

   You shrugged, “I’ve always been into drawing, ever since I was a kid. I really liked comics n’ stuff, so I guess that’s what motivated me.” You found it endearing that he even asked because it meant that he was interested. You have never known what it felt like to have feelings like these, to feel so close to someone, but it was exciting. ..And scary at the same time of course. 

   It was then that you remembered that you’d forgotten your intentions of distancing yourself. 

   “Yeah? How come?” He picked up the comic book he had meant to continue reading and flipped to the page that had one of its corners dog-eared. 

   You put your pencil down and looked up at the sky peeking through the various green leaves blocking it. “It’s an outlet, I guess. Whenever I got lonely I’d just draw and draw till I forgot the loneliness.” 

   Carl lifted his gaze up to you again. “Do you still feel like that?” 

   You set your notebook down and hugged your knees closer to your chest before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes. Not as much nowadays though.” 

   “I’ve felt that way before too, actually. I thought I was the only one.” Carl admitted. He looked away when your eyes met his.  

   “Yeah?” You asked quietly. 

   He nodded his hands now flat on the ground at his sides and the comic forgotten on his lap. “I feel like it’s too normal sometimes.” Carl said. You agreed with his statement. “A lot of the people here aren’t prepared t’fight. I think that’s the scariest thing outta everything.” 

   “Why so?” you drew circles on the dirt. 

   “If someone, or something, from outside the walls wanted to take this place, they could.” Carl spoke as if it was fact. Maybe he was right. The wind whistled throughout the forest, a signal to return inside the walls now that the sun was also beginning to disappear. You put your notebook and his comic back inside the hidden box and closed it. 

   “We should get back, your dad’s probably wondering where you are.” You lent him a hand to help him up and he took it. His hand was a little calloused — but warm. 

   “Yeah, I guess so.” 

   He got up, but he didn’t let go of your hand. 

.

.

.

   The day the walkers came in through the walls was the day you returned to reality. You had to admit, being in Alexandria had indeed dulled your fighting skills — but it did not deter you. Plunging your knife into the skull of the walker in front of you, you headed toward the infirmary. Gunshots could be heard which only called in more from the swarm, you had to hurry.

   After a sprinting to the infirmary, you met Denise and began to help treat some of the patients that had gotten hurt. Your hands were quick at cleaning wounds and wrapping bandages, you’d picked up a lot of things before coming to Alexandria and you’d made it a habit to learn from Denise as a precaution. Luckily, it was paying off.

   ..Until Rick brought Carl to the infirmary with a grave injury to his right eye. 

   Your hands came to a sudden stop and trembled and you couldn't stop staring at him in utter shock of what had been done to him.  “What-..” 

   Denise helped Rick lay Carl down on the patient bed. “Get me the bandages, we need to stop the bleeding,” Denise ordered. Your mind went blank but you moved in a flash, handing her all the materials she needed to help him as if you were on autopilot. You didn’t ask Michonne nor Rick how it happened and you couldn’t either way since Rick decided to take his anger out on the walkers swarming outside. 

   Your eyes were laser-focused on the numbers reading Carl’s heart rate. 

   It was then that you realized just how much you cared about the freckled boy with the blue eyes, the sheriff’s hat he never took off and his stupid smile. 

   ..It was then that you realized how far you'd fallen for Carl. 

   “Is he..” your voice was shaky but Denise cut you off. 

   “He’s going to live. He will.” Her words were spoken in a strong tone but you didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself o..r you. In the meantime, you busied yourself with the other patients, most of the people huddling up inside the infirmary had left now and were beginning to go join Rick in his fight against the walkers currently swarming the inside of the walls. You couldn’t afford to think about him living or dying when other people were on patient beds fighting for their lives too. 

   But it was hard to not think about him. 

   You could only hope he would be alright. 

   The day seeped into the night sky and soon enough, Rick and the other Alexandrians had succeeded in massacring all the walkers inside the walls. Now, they were focused on making sure the walls would hold up while you still were tending to the patients in the infirmary with Denise. Luckily, some of the patients were recovering from their injuries now and waking up. From what Denise told you, Carl was unconscious but he was stable- He was alive.  That’s all that mattered to you. 

   You wanted to talk to someone, tell someone about all the feelings you were bottling up- but Enid was nowhere to be found. Neither was Ron or the other kids, and you couldn’t tell Denise because you knew how stressed she must have been. You left the infirmary and went outside to take in some air. The woman with the sword.. Michonne, you think her name was; She was outside of the infirmary as well. Carl’s dad, Rick, was there too. 

   “How is he?” Rick asked, you could hear the anxiousness in his voice. 

   You tried to give him a smile, “He’s doing better than when you brought him in, thankfully.” A few tears escaped Rick’s eyes but a small smile crept onto his lips. “..There was nothing we could do about his eye. But, ..He’ll live. You can go see him right now, he’s uhm.. He’s unconscious though.” Rick nodded and Michonne seemed relieved, but Rick was the only one who went in. Michonne stayed out on the steps with you. 

   You sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, your arms crossed and your heart full. 

   “Are you okay?” Michonne asked you genuinely.

   If it were in another time, any other time, you probably would have lied. But as soon as one tear strayed from your eye, a multitude of others seemed to follow. Michonne’s expression softened and she offered a hug, embracing your shaking body racked with emotions you couldn’t name. You didn’t know if you should be relieved, or worried- or both! 

   “It’ll be okay, [Name].” 

   You took a shaky breath in, “How..- How do you know that?” You looked up at her, your vision blurry. 

   She wiped your tears carefully, “Because we’re the ones who live.” 

   The words she spoke to you that day gave you hope. Luckily for you and his family he woke up a few weeks after the whole ordeal. However, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, like you had done before you met him. 

   You couldn’t look at him, not because of how he looked.. 

   ..but because you knew that the next time you saw him face to face, the dam of feelings you held inside would burst open instantly.

[marsattaxk]

「Swan Song」 / KATSUKI BAKUGO

── .✦ ENCOUNTER. 1 The only thing I got were wounds

SYNOPSIS: KATSUKI BAKUGO has gotten used to the monotonous routine of his physical and quirk therapy. Going over the same sign-in chart, same exercises to bring back feeling in his arm, and slowly introducing his quirk back. That all changed when one day, during one of his usual session times a teen around his age showed up. Wearing two ankle braces. 

MY HERO ACADEMIA  ✦  KATSUKI BAKUGO × BALLERINA!GN!READER  ✦ ©marsattaxk 2024

NOTE + WARNINGS: Reader will and is a ballerina in the story and will be described as tall no other reference to their appearance, reader has a quirk called Swan Song, due to their quirk reader is very emotionally unstable after their quirk is used (be used in later chapters), reader is also a Shiketsu student, poor description of physical therapy, katsuki is curious and intrigued as hell by reader, poor description of ballet (I haven't done it in YEARS), description of injuries, teenagers being teens so swearing (we'll get to dialogue eventually just let me cook)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

KATSUKI BAKUGO HAD ALWAYS BEEN ONE FOR ROUTINES. His daily life, ever since middle school consisted of one: waking up early, going for a morning run, having breakfast, going to school, homework, study, more training, dinner, shower, and go to bed at the latest of 9pm. A cut and dry routine that he, himself, had created. He was a creature of habit and never liked change. That of course changed when he entered U.A.

His life, the one he knew, changed when his childhood best friend suddenly and out of nowhere got a quirk. His quirkless childhood best friend had a strong quirk and was improving fast. Way too fast for his liking. The ideal life and routine he had in his head changed to now include his goal of surpassing and still being better than IZUKU. And his immense growth his first year at U.A was proof of that. 

His loud, explosive, and angry personality had consistently mild down throughout the year and the events that he and his classmates were and had experienced. Of course it is no secret that a war would change a person fundamentally, especially him considering he had died for a moment of time during it. Thankfully, he was able to be brought back and see the end of it, marking the end to one of Japan’s darkest times and even witnessing his childhood best friend become the greatest hero of all time. Finally allowing for the reform their hero society needed to begin. 

However, surviving a war didn’t mean he got out scot-free. Katsuki was left with some gnarly scars and a heart that had to be monitored, reminders of what he went through. But those were the last of his worries when it came to his dream and goals of becoming the best hero of all time. His worries came with his arm. During the war his arm had received a lot of damage, profusely messing it up. He could no longer fully move his hand, and his quirk, which relied on his sweat, was practically unusable in its current state. After waking up in the hospital, getting time to get used to being awake he was told that he had two options. 

One: get his arm amputated and get a prosthetic, or two: go the long route and go through physical and quirk therapy. 

Katsuki knew one thing at that moment and that was if he wanted to even fully use his quirk and achieve his dream, he’d have to have both his arms. So his choice was pretty clear, he was going to go through the long process of physical and quirk therapy. He not only had the support of his parents but of his friends as well, so the road ahead didn’t seem too rough to him. 

With the defeat of Shigaraki and All for One, society was slowly but surely starting to recover which meant that physical therapy clinics were finally and fully opening back up. Plus with most school’s needing to be rebuilt or fixed, summer came early for students all around the country. And so Katsuki’s routine changed once again for the third time. His training had now been replaced with physical and quirk therapy at 5pm every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

From the moment he got discharged from the hospital, he was immediately required to go to his first session on a Wednesday. And just like that Katsuki had a new routine. Being a month into rehab, Katsuki had gotten used to the monotonous routine of his physical and quirk therapy. Going over the same sign-in chart, same exercises to bring back feeling in his arm, and slowly introducing his quirk back. That all changed one random Wednesday when he showed up. 

Katsuki always liked showing up a little bit earlier than his scheduled time, just so that he could get the sign-in chart quickly over with and not have it take up time from his appointment. He, like usual, had been dropped off by his mother at the clinic, her promising she’d be back in an hour, with him responding in a disinterested tone that he knew and understood. He’d then watch her drive away, a byproduct of his senses always on edge, before finally walking into the building. He expected it to be empty as it had always been but to his surprise there was someone there before him. 

The person that from what he could see was around his age. They sat there with their head low, the cap on their head covering most of their face except for their lips and chin. The cap wasn’t what caught Katsuki’s attention as he went and sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. What caught his attention was the two ankle braces they were wearing on each ankle. The sight genuinely intrigued him, making questions fill his head. Why two braces? How did they injure themselves? Did they hurt one ankle first and then the other? Or did they hurt the two at the same time? Were some of the few that filled his head. 

The waiting room was mostly silent, with the only noise being the typing of the receptionist and the low humming noise of the A.C unit. Katsuki had genuinely expected the teen to at least maybe look in his direction and acknowledge him or even attempt to make conversation. But no, all he got was silence on their end. The silence didn’t help his curiosity at all, with him taking peeks at them as they both sat in the waiting area. 

Every time he’d expect them to at least have slightly moved, but no, they continued to sit in the same position he had seen them since he had entered. Their elbows resting on the arm rests, their head hanging low, body slightly slouched as if they were ashamed, and their feet firmly planted against the floor. And god, those damn ankle braces didn’t help in want of knowing what happened. But Katsuki was never one to initiate a conversation, and if the teen didn’t want to say anything then he wouldn’t either. 

It genuinely felt like an eternity in the waiting room, with the silence so deafening that Katsuki began to contemplate if he should speak up just to get rid of it. But before he could decide whether or not he should, his name got called out making him turn his head in the direction. It was time for him to start the usual routine he mentally created for himself. As he stood up and made his way over to the nurse that had called out to him, Katsuki glanced one final time at the teen, before heading to the back to get started. 

Katuski believed that when he’d get out of his session the teen would be gone but to much of his surprise, they were still there. He guessed that their session ended before his since they were at the receptionist desk setting up their next appointment for Wednesday at the same time as he would be right after they left. From where he stood he could catch a glimpse of their face, seeing their clearly tired eyes, and the frown on their face. He could tell that they didn’t want to be there, and that just added more fuel to the fire, wondering what happened to them for them to land here, just like him.

Their frown wasn’t just the only thing that intrigued Katsuki, but their height as well. Katsuki was tall, clearly. He stood, proudly, at five’ eight and used his height as an advantage over villains. But from what he could see this teen a few feet away from him was taller than him, only by a few inches. They towered over the receptionist, with her having to crane her neck to look up. Normally something about that would infuriate him but with them it was different. Their height added to the curiosity that he held for them and maybe even some attraction, but Katsuki would never admit that. 

He watched them only nod in response to the woman's words, giving her one last nod before walking and out of the clinic, clearly they wanted to get the hell out. And honestly Katsuki didn’t blame them for it, he also just wanted to be done with his therapy sessions and go back to his regular life, going back to doing hero work. Standing there he listens to the receptionist talk about his next appointment and the upcoming ones he had next, watching as their silhouette walked away from the building and got into a car. 

✦ 

[Y/N] HAD ALWAYS HAD ONE DREAM SINCE THEY WERE A CHILD. From the moment they had seen them gracefully glide across their screen, twirling, dipping, and jumping, they knew that was what they wanted to do. Seeing a Prima Ballerina perform Tchaikovsky Swan Lake, they knew they wanted to be the white swan. They knew they needed to be a ballerina. 

They still remembered going up to their mother and telling her how they wanted to do ballet, how it didn’t matter to them if they got a quirk or not, they just wanted to perform Swan Lake. They remember the begging they did, trying to convince their pro-hero parents to allow them to do ballet, begging to break the family tradition of being heroes. They knew how important it was for their parents for them to follow in the tradition, it was the legacy their great grand-parents had started. But, even as a small child they knew that wasn’t what they wanted and what they did they saw dancing on their screen.

Their mother was more skeptical, not seeing the appeal of it, that maybe there was another activity that they could do related to hero work. Their father was the one who fully listened to them. Maybe it was because this was his only child wanting to do something they wanted, or maybe it was because that spark they had for the dance was the same spark he had when seeing his father be a hero. He made them make him a promise. He made them promise that if they ever stopped or showed disinterest in the dance style, they would start hero training. 

And ever since that day, they have never broken their promise. Everyday from that day forward they spent their life going to dance classes, practices, going to rehearsals, performances, doing pointe shoe fittings and getting lead roles in productions. Even when their quirk came in, aptly named ‘Swan Song’ they continued to dance no matter what. Their entire elementary and middle school years were spent perfecting their craft, hoping and dreaming that in a couple years their dreams of becoming a Prima Ballerina would become true. And it was during the 8th grade, that it finally happened. 

That lifelong dream came in the form of a letter from the official National Ballet of Japan, with them offering them the position of their brand new prima ballerina. To say that [Y/N] was excited would be an understatement. They were ecstatic over the fact that they would be finally able to fulfill their childhood and lifelong dream. Of course their dream opportunity came with an exception, that being that they would have to move to Japan and attend one of the country's prestigious high schools. 

[Y/N] was used to going overseas and going to performances all over the country, but moving to a completely different country by themselves? Without their parent’s? Now that was a whole new experience. The thought of being thousands of miles away from their parent’s, their family was daunting, scary. This was their dream, their once in a lifetime opportunity, but doing it without their parent’s? That was something they weren’t prepared for. Talking and telling their parents about this life changing opportunity was one of the hardest things they had to do.

They remember their mom telling them another opportunity like that could at some point present itself again, that they didn’t have to commit to this in a completely different country, that they should stick with their current dance company. Their dad on their other hand had only one question for them. ‘Have you fallen out of love with the dance?’ The moment that question left his mouth, [Y/N] knew what they had to do. And that was mailing their acceptance of the offer back to The National Ballet of Japan and looking into what school they would go to. 

After hours of research, enrolling, transferring their grades and transcript, packing, mailing their stuff over to their new school dorm rooms, heading over to Japan, [Y/N] was finally able to step foot into their room in Shiketsu’s dorms. With their overseas move, The National Ballet of Japan welcomed their new and first foreign Prima Ballerina. But, as things would have it, their first year at Shiketsu and as Prima Ballerina did not go as planned. Every student in Japan's lives were put on hold right after the Paranormal Liberation War and with the fight to stop Shigaraki. While [Y/N] had good control over their quirk, they didn’t play a role in fighting in the war, they mostly helped in the sheltering of civilians. 

With the war over and life slowly but surely beginning to go to a sense of normalcy, [Y/N] was finally able to go back to what they loved doing the most, ballet. As much as [Y/N] had become accustomed to the constant Piles, Pirouettes, first, second, and third positions, it was hard for them to get back into the rhythm of things. Their dance instructor never blamed them for making simple mistakes, or slightly tripping when making moves, he knew that with the war and the lack of practice their body wasn’t used to going back to the constant practice and rehearsals. 

Even if their ballet instructor wasn’t frustrated with them, [Y/N] was frustrated with themselves. This was their craft, their lifelong career and dream, the fact they couldn’t land a simple saut de chat was infuriating to them. How was it that in a couple months they were able to just forget everything they had been doing since they were four years old? When did they regress in their abilities? 

Everyday at practice and rehearsals for their company’s production of Notre-Dame de Paris, they kept pushing themselves to get back to where they were originally. It was a constant push and push and push to dance at the level they had been used to, pushing their muscles, feet, legs, and arms to keep up to remember what they knew. Of course dancing with frustration and having tightness in their muscles was never a good sign, because during one rehearsal practice they took a tumble and ended up landing weirdly on both of their ankles after a jump. 

Their instructor told them the same thing he had been telling them the past month, ‘take it easy. You are getting back into the rhythm of things. Take care of your ankles’. The same speech and lecture they had been hearing since the start of the new season. Did they listen? No, [Y/N]  was a teenager who thought they could improve by sheer force and will. And that unfortunately backfired on them greatly. On opening night of the first performance on Notre-Dame de Paris, and their first performance back on the stage, in front of their parents, during their Esmeralda variation that [Y/N] took a fall after the finishing jump, absolutely decimating their ankles. 

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity to [Y/N], their hearing muffled as the only thing they could look at was their ankles. Bruised beyond belief, showing the damage their fall had done to them, the harm that their frustration and push to dance had caused them. They couldn’t hear the words of their mother or of the paramedics as they talked to them or around them. The only thing they could hear was the screaming thoughts in their head telling them their career was over. 

The arrival to the hospital was a blur. The morphine that the nurses had injected into them made them tired, before everything went black after having anesthesia for their urgent surgery. Due to their untreated ankle twist and the fact that they had been applying pressure on both of them, [Y/N]’s ankles were messed up beyond a point. Their ligaments and tendons had been worn down, making them require surgery to fix them. Thankfully everything went well, but that meant that [Y/N] would have to undergo physical therapy to even get their ankles back to their full health and back to what they were if they wanted to go back to dancing. 

The lecture they had gotten from their parents was justified. It was reckless of them to not take care of themselves, to allow themselves to become so frustrated they were willing to hurt themselves just to improve. But of course, they could understand the frustration. They were hero’s after all, their careers hanged on the thread of them getting better quickly. In their hospital room, [Y/N] and their parents discussed what would happen now, fully talking about itf they’d go back to dancing or if they’d finally stop. But they weren’t gonna stop, this was their dream. Plus they had a promise to uphold. 

 So they made their first appointment at the Musutafu Physical and Quirk Therapy Clinic. And all they hoped for was that they got better quickly so that they could go back to dancing. 

They arrived an hour early, due to living on the complete other side of the city, since Shiketsu was on the west side they had a long commute to even consider arriving on time. The train ride over was as peaceful as you could call a subway cart. As well as the cab over. When they arrived it was empty, allowing for the receptionist to take the time to explain the charts, documents, and sign-in sheet they had to fill out, that taking up most of their time before their appointment. 

Sitting there in one of the chairs of the waiting room was embarrassing to [Y/N]. Not because they had physical therapy but because of how they could have prevented this if they had just listened. If they had taken the time to rest their weirdly twisted ankles they would have been able to do the full Notre-Dame of Paris show and wouldn't have had to have surgery on their ankles. And so they sat there, with their head hanging low with their cap on their head, their braces on full display, they waited for their appointment time to arrive.

At some point from what they could tell someone new had arrived. They genuinely had no interest in who this person was or even if they were there to have a session like they would, all they wanted was to get it over with and get out as quickly as possible. However, maybe it was their imagination or maybe it really was happening, but as they sat there, looking down at their shoes, they could feel as if someone was glancing at them. Very continuous glances. They had no idea if it was the person who had just entered or if they were making it up. And so they ignored it, continuing to look down at their shoes.

The feeling stopped when the person who had, in fact, arrived went to what they assumed was one of the rooms to have their own session, and soon enough it was their turn as well when their name got called out. [Y/N] had no idea what to expect for their first therapy session and thankfully it was something simple to start. Just some ankle pointing, circling, and some resistance band pulls, some simple exercises to get them used to the motion of using their ankles once again. 

Their session ended early, they chalked it up to needing to start off simple so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves again. Going back to the waiting area, they stood at the reception desk, listening to the nurse at the desk explain how their session would go on from then on, and of course setting up their next appointment Wednesday at the same time. This time, however, they were able to get a glance at the person who had entered the clinic. It was a boy, clearly around their age, with blonde hair and scars. Something about him looked familiar to them, but they could figure out why. 

And so they just chalked it up to probably seeing someone similar to him somewhere and left the clinic to get to the cab waiting for them outside. Having no idea how just their presence at the therapy clinic had impacted the blonde teen. 

✦ 

TO SAY THAT KATSUKI WAS INTRIGUED WAS NOT FAR FROM THE TRUTH. Getting into his mom’s car as he answered the usual questions she asked him after his sessions all he could think about was the teen who had been there as well. Never in his life had he cared so much about someone else, excluding Izuku and All Might, that this was jarring to him. And the fact that he told his own mother about it was even more jarring. He never told the old hag anything like this before. 

To say that his mom wasn’t curious about this person who had captured her son’s attention was a blatant lie. She was intrigued and needed to know who had captured her son’s attention immediately. Katsuki being Katsuki he refused to tell his mom anything. The hag, in his opinion, didn’t need to know anything and telling her was clearly a mistake considering she couldn’t let it go the entire car ride. And couldn’t let it go the next two weeks after she picked him up from his therapy sessions. 

During the course of those two weeks and the sessions Katsuki had, his curiosity for this teen had severely increased as weeks went by. He wanted, no, he needed to know about them. He needed to know why they were even in physical therapy. To say this was just morbid curiosity would be a bold face lie. This kid had an obsession with a person he had no single piece of knowledge about. This was a complete stranger, for christ sake. How was it possible that a random teen was able to capture his intrigue more than any other person he had ever met could. 

Going to his therapy sessions had been something he had started to look forward to, honestly. And that was information no one would be able to get out of him, no matter what. His annoying friends didn’t need to know, his parents didn’t need to question him about this person, and Izuku and All Might clearly didn’t need any form of indication that he was obsessing over a total stranger. And genuinely, he knew just telling them about his ‘obsession’ would either make them make them try and help him or raise concern in their heads. And it was probably the latter. 

Every time he’d show up and he’d see them his mind would go wild. It’d go racing with thoughts and guesses on who they were, what they did to land in physical therapy, what their quirk was, were they a hero in training just like him, did they go to U.A just like him. And apparently the receptionist at the front desk had picked up on it as well, much to his chagrin. 

It was like how he had found them the first time he had seen them when his session had ended. They were at the reception desk, clearly setting up their next appointment, when the receptionist did something. And by that something, he meant, making up a made up policy that required her to look at patient’s faces to make sure it matched their ID. Telling them they had to take off their cap to be able to look. Katsuki knew that was a lie. From the moment he had started there had never been a rule or policy that enforced that at all, but he knew the receptionist was doing this for him by the way she glanced at him. 

Their response of a nonchalant, almost disinterested ‘yeah, sure’ were the first words Katsuki had heard them say in the two weeks he had seen them. He watched as they removed their cap, finally getting a good glimpse at them. Something about seeing their face that made an unknown feeling bloom in Katsuki’s chest. This unknown warmth that he had never felt before. It wasn’t the usual warmth he felt from his quirk, it was different and he couldn’t explain why it was. And so once again, he watched them walk out. 

Standing up at desk, Katsuki listened to the receptionist tell him that since they couldn’t give out any information on them, the most she could do was tell him to look up a website. That website being The National Ballet of Japan’s page. Telling him he'd get the information and answers he had been looking for by searching through it and the dancers in had under its company. 

To say that Katuski went home and didn’t look up what the receptionist had told him would be a lie. In the comfort of his room, he went onto his laptop and looked up the National Ballet of Japan. He scoured the page looking through performances, articles, awards, seasonal tickets, class registration forms, information about the company before stumbling up on the dancers. He scrolled through hundreds of dancers, all of them stemming from the past and the present until he reached a face he clearly recognized. And a face that made that warmth he had felt back at the clinic, spread through his chest once again. 

✦ 

THIS WOULD MARK THE FOURTH WEEK OF [Y/N] PHYSICAL THERAPY SESSIONS. Apparently their plea of wanting these sessions to go by quickly had been heard. Every day for the past week had become the same for them, going to therapy, doing the exercises, and going home to do them once again, all in hopes to better than ankles quicker. This appointment would mark if they would be able to start going back to practice once again. A light practice, as their instructor had told them, a small step into the swimming pool before even attempting to go back on pointe shoes. 

They had thought this session would be normal. Showing up an hour early, doing the sign-in chart and just sitting in silence as they wait for the teen boy to show up and for their appointment to start. But something in their head told them today would be different. And clearly it was. The blonde boy was there before them. Which was odd. What was even more odd was where he was sitting this time.

Usually when they sat in the waiting area, there was a space in between them, the two always leaving an empty chair. However this time, the boy was sitting in that chair. They didn’t want to seem rude and just move one seat over, then again they really didn’t care where he sat, so they just sat down, and didn’t say a word. The waiting area was quiet like it had always been but, once again, today was going to be different. 

“Hey,” a gruff, almost raspy voice called out to them, making them turn their head in the direction it came from. And for the first time since the two of them started attending physical therapy at the same time, [Y/N] AND KATSUKI MADE EYE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER.

AUTHORS NOTE: hello hi! welcome to my first ever ‘x reader’ fanfic that I have fully committed to and actually have written. This is the first ever fic that I have posted to tumblr, more like the first ever piece of content I have ever posted to tumblr and I’m both nervous and cautiously excited about this. this isn’t my first rodeo posting fic's on the internet (we don’t talk about wattpad) but it is the first one I’m actually proud of since I’m no longer writing like how middle school me did back then. all I ask is that y’all don’t burn me at the stake for however long it takes me to put out chapters. I am a college student so my grades come first than this silly little fic. I hope that y’all enjoy this piece of fiction that I’ve written and I’ll be back whenever chapter two is ready. buh-bye!

P.S: it was while editing and talking to friends that I decided to make this a ‘universe’/ connected story series. whenever this series is over and fully completed (re-edited at some point because i’m never happy with end products) i’ll announce the next one. so stay tuned for that.

TAGLIST: @oddball08

[ritualdenoche]

︎⠀⠀⠀ ︎⠀⠀⠀✿⬮⓵ ♡̵̼͓̥͒̾͘ I ⠀︎⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓪 ⠀ 𝓭𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓻 ︎⠀⠀ ୁֵׄ⃜ ♥︎ ⠀⠀

[re1ncqrn4tedl0ver]

❝  Summer vacations are all about relaxing and taking your mind off all your problems back home, but it might result a bit harder to do when you find out that one of the problems is coming along. ❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎��━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

━ ✉︎ Info: ⊹. ⋆˚˖ ⛱ ༅ ˚₊ | Schlatt x Fem!OC; ⛱ ༅ ˚₊ | Family friends AU; ⛱ ༅ ˚₊ | Contains detailed SMUT; ⛱ ༅ ˚₊ | Long chapters ( 3k - 4k words ); ⛱ ༅ ˚₊ | English is not my first language, sorry for any errors!;

━ ⛱ ༅ Summary: ･ ₊˚🎐

They drove each other crazy, yet neither of them will ever have the courage to admit it.

OR..

A story in which, two family friends are forced to go on a month long together after not speaking to each other for a whole year.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

First 2 chapters out: Read it on wattpad!

[vivalarevolution]

𝓒𝓸𝓷 𝓛𝓪 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓪

Neteyam x Omaticaya Reader

Request: „My god there isn't enough smut for the avatar characters. I cherish yours! I can't stop thinking about neteyam. Something where they are just yearning for each other. Making out till their queues are basically connecting without them having to put them together. I imagine it would be so intense.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. I hope that I have conveyed the behaviors and habits of the character well and you will enjoy reading it. Please remember english is not my native language, mistakes may occur. The work includes smut ,minors do not interact.

*Characters are aged up

He couldn't stop staring at her, he wasn't able to.

When she got out of the water, she intoxicated him with herself, with her long ,thick hair that cascaded down her back, with her hands that she lifted up exposing her body even more and with the way her eyes closed again and again in a surprisingly sensual way.

But he wasn't the only one watching.

Her eyes, though only slightly open, saw Neteyam's actions. But like him, she just stared, making no other move. This type of dancing was all too familiar to na’vi’s because none of them wanted to do anything about it.

Till this day.

Because they were alone, Y/n wasn't afraid of the onlookers as she decided to turn around and go in a direction only she knew, just to stop and turn her head towards the boy. Her fingers beckoning him to her before moving again forward, knowing that he would obey her silent command without a word of objection.

Neteyam, enchanted, moved towards her, almost running to reach the girl who had so effectively befuddled his senses just as he had unknowingly befuddled hers.

-Where are we going? - he asked from behind her, but the only answer was a mysterious smile from her - Come on, don't play with me like that - he added, trying to grab her tail, but she escaped him at the last moment, turning to face him without stopping walking.

-It's you who decided to follow me - she pointed out playfully, nudging him with her tail, which he tried to grab a moment ago - We are currently going ahead, my Nete.

-I noticed that - he replied, rolling his eyes slightly, unable to stop smiling after hearing how she called him - You won't tell me, don't you?

-It's called a surprise - she stated, spinning around him in a frolicsome manner, still nudging him gently - I think you'll like it - she confessed more quietly, looking at him from under thick eyelashes, driving him crazy - Come on, my Nete, it's not far.

As she spoke, she grabbed his larger palm, dragging him behind her. Neteyam allowed himself to be led without objection, feeling pleasant warmth spreading over his body, when in his field of vision he could see their joined hands.

-So that's what you wanted to show me? - he asked, entering the cave with her.

-Not that, but what's at the end - she replied, releasing his arm to his dismay - Catch me if you can, my Nete - she added before fleeing as fast as a gust of wind.

It was as if they were children again. Chasing around the forest for an unknown purpose, for satisfaction unknown to anyone. But now they were older and the chase turned into something significant, something primal and the boy was ready to chase her even to the edge of the world, just to catch her in his arms. But just when he thought he had her, she disappeared around the corner, and he lost her completely from his sight.

-Y/n - he called, but got no response - I swear to Eywa that you will be death to me - he muttered, going even deeper until he reached the second exit, which faced the ocean.

The girl watched him in the shadows, waiting for him to pass by before she silently followed him, after a while grabbing his shoulders, gliding her lips over his ear.

-I see you - she whispered before kissing the skin on his neck to his surprise, sending shivers down his body.

He turned his head towards her, afraid that it was a cruel joke but she looked at him lovingly, thus soothing his nerves.

Her sudden movement startled him, but the desire was greater and in the next moment, his hands were on her hips, pulling her towards him. His golden eyes traced the structure of her face. The way her yellow eyes stared at him, the way their pupils dilated, or the way white marks began to appear on her face from the darkness that surrounded them.

-You're beautiful - he said, sincerity oozing out of his words.

-You look at me so that I dare not doubt, my Nete - she replied, rubbing her cheek against his.

-Cause I've got my mind on you - he added as an excuse, closing his eyes.

-And I've got my mind on you - she said softly, gliding her lips over his, slowly, gently, intimately.

They both drowned in each other. In their touches, in emotions that they denied for too long. The feeling of wet lips and tongues rubbing against each other was so intense that the couple tried to get closer, practically melting into one. Their moans grew louder with each passing moment, and each subsequent close-up, while their hands wandered in a desperate act, trying to memorize every bit of the other's skin with just their fingers.

-My Nete - she whimpered surprisingly loudly.

The boy looked at her from above, noticing only then what a mess they had become. Their clothes were rumpled, their skin marked, their hair disheveled and sometimes untangled from their braids, while their kuru practically fused together. They were so close yet so far.

-Y/n - he began, but fell silent as the girl's torso rose up and their breaths mingled with each other.

-Connect them, my Nete. Make us one - she whispered, all the while looking into his eyes the color of liquid honey.

He couldn't say no, he just couldn't, he didn't want to. So he did as she asked. It didn't take much, just a light move, and the braids fully joined together, making a mates out of them.

The connection was something unfamiliar to both of them, something almost forbidden by how right and good it was. Their bodies trembled, flooded with pleasant warmth and an erotic sensation never experienced by either of them.

Neteyam's instincts started working for him. His hands, as if ruled by something foreign, slid down to the girl's waist, carefully removing the material from her body, revealing her womanhood. Only by looking at the naked flower of her femininity did he realize how he exposed her, but before he could ask, Y/n's legs spread involuntarily wider, inviting him.

Bringing his face closer to her clit, his ears involuntarily twitched, feeling her sweet scent enter his nostrils. His tongue slowly moved along her labia, collecting the fluid that had accumulated on them, and hearing the golden-eyed na'vi groans of satisfaction, he repeated this action, getting addicted to the feeling of being between her legs, feasting on the hidden source.

-My Nete - she moaned, not knowing what is what anymore, her orgasm mixed with the feeling of tsaheylu, creating a feeling of haze and thirst on her mind.

-How do you feel? - Neteyam asked softly, kissing her belly, the valley between her breasts, and finally her neck.

-Amazing - she confessed, knowing exactly that she wasn't the only one who felt pleasure, not when they were joined - How did you know what to do? - she asked, unable to stop herself.

-I just knew - he answered quickly, not wanting to admit about discovering the strange Earth books he had found with Lo'ak and Spider - How did you know what I was doing? - he said, trying to distract attention from himself.

The girl smiled innocently, nudging his thigh with her leg.

-I explored - she confessed, looking into his eyes - When you mature you are curious about your body, it's natural. Haven't you ever been curious about exploring your body? - she asked, slowly placing her hands on his shoulder to pull herself up.

-No - he confessed quietly - I was too busy...

-Do you want me to explore your body for you? - she suggested, turning them so that she was on top - Do you want me to touch you, my Nete? - she whispered into his ear, rubbing her fingers against the manhood hidden behind his clothes.

-Yes - he choked out, feeling moans wanting to come out as Y/n's hand rubbed his member, carefully peeking behind the fabric to touch it fully.

-You made me feel so good - she remarked tenderly, kissing the skin on his shoulder - Let me hear you, please. There's no shame in showing how good you feel.

At these words, the boy's mouth opened to let out the sounds that wanted to flow from the depths of his throat. His hands gripped Y/n's thighs as she sensually moved up and down his shaft, occasionally running her thumb over the head. Her lips found their place on his, tasting herself unconsciously.

-Please put it inside - he said, panting - Please. I need you.

-Of course, my Nete - she replied, propping herself up for convenient access and positioning.

Neteyam held her close as she pushed him into her tight, hot canal. Their foreheads touched each other as breaths, whines, growls and moans mingled into one.

-So good, so perfect - he whispered, eyes closed, wiping their faces together.

-I love you - she said, sitting fully on him, calming her pounding heart.

-I love you - he repeated, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Y/n waited a long time, getting used to the feeling of bulging and a slight burning sensation, before lazily moving her loins back and forth, left and right, and around, driving them crazy. He wanted to help, to take control, but the sight of his beloved above him, her face focused and full of pleasure, he could only watch, trying to remember every detail, begging to find a way to shut himself up in this moment now and forever.

Opening her eyes, the girl smiled slightly at the sight of Neteyam and the way he looked at her as if she were a goddess herself. Her movements gained strength, but not speed, keeping a slow and intimate pace.

Not a word was spoken but their eyes said it all and the connection made them aware that they were one. Their thoughts, heartbeats, everything flew between them like the most beautiful of paths.

-So close, my Nete - she whispered, holding his face in her hands - I want us to come together.

-We will. I promise - he replied, unexpectedly lifting his own hips up -Give me everything, my Y/n. I want everything from you - he purred into her mouth, feeling how after these sweet words the girl's insides tightened tighter if it was possible, almost preventing him from moving any further.

-My Nete - she whimpered as a feeling of familiar warmth flooded her body and a constellation appeared before her eyes.

Neteyam growled, reaching his climax with her as he said, burying her in his arms before collapsing to the ground beneath them, dragging the girl's tired body with him. In response, she snuggled into his torso, wrapping her tail around his leg as he did the same.

Their eyes involuntarily closed, and a calming darkness engulfed their minds, putting them into the arms of sleep and dreams while their bodies and hearts were still connected , forever as one.

[fandomnerd9602]

Cairo: stop looking at me like that

Y/N: you first. You’ve been eyeing me up like a predator does its prey

Cairo: make me

Y/N: I would…but I kinda like your staring

Cairo: you’re terrible

Y/N: so are you. Which is why we’re perfect for each other

Cairo blushes, biting her lip…

Cairo; I think I found my muse

Y/N: amusing

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

HOME || CHILDHOOD BFF! SIMON 💔

Summary:

Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other…

Pairing:

teen!Simon x teen!F!reader

Content Warnings:

This fic gets dark. It references Simon's backstory (from '09), child abuse, domestic violence, child death, arguments, injuries, abandonment issues, drugs, sex, alcohol, youth homelessness, etc.

Check every chapters' tags/cw for specific warnings.

Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Canon Ending (Hurt/No Comfort):

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Non-Canon Ending (Hurt/Comfort):

Alternative Ending

Extras:

Home: Moodboard

Home: Playlist

1st Attempt at a Happy Ending (I don't like it)

[MY MASTERLIST]