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myherowritings · 4 years

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Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was.

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location.

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.”

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.”

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

“Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?”

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead.

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower.

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too?

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice.

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?”

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion.

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--”

“Y/N!”

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice.

There was no way.

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows.

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up.

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?”

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring.

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!”

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi.

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?”

“None of your damn business.”

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?”

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him.

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?”

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone.

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.”

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.”

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.”

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement.

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.”

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him.

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster.

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question.

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.”

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white.

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing.

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t.

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes.

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!”

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?”

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.”

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.”

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.”

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused.

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.”

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you.

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed.

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love.

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end.

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night.

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends.

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.”

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.”

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.”

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to.

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well.

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter.

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close.

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face.

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard.

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?”

You flushed. “Oh, hush.”

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car.

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.”

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.”

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street.

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze.

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you.

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you.

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart.

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay.

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen.

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.”

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.”

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own.

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right.

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks.

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.”

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.”

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider.

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning?

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?”

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you.

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.”

“No worries.”

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty.

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little.

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!”

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden?

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop.

He accepted it. “Thank you.”

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers.

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?”

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!”

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.”

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat.

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching.

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.”

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes.

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!”

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.”

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.”

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.”

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.”

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t.

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme.

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?”

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.”

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.”

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.”

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it.

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.”

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you.

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.”

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.”

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his.

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.”

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced.

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.”

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say.

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.”

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.”

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted.

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down?

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.”

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly.

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.”

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.”

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.”

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.”

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued.

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips.

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.”

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter.

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.”

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?”

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched.

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully.

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face.

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you.

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?”

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?”

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.”

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him.

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted.

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night.

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response.

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged.

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss.

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.”

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled.

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.”

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse.

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him.

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face.

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!”

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully.

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.”

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door.

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door.

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles.

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved.

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!”

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater.

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.”

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?”

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment.

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful.

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.”

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?”

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.”

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight.

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.”

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did.

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon.

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept.

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you.

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop.

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face.

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park.

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again.

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together.

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years

Text

Devout Worshipper: Dark! Peter Parker x Professor!Reader

A/N: So this girl here tried something else. I’ve been wanting to upload since long but this got delayed a lot and now I have several WIPs but finished this first. Sorry not proofread. I’m still discovering my writing style and my forte and thank you for staying and witnessing my experiments! Wear safety goggles please.

Summary: The best of all the educators yet, both smart and stunning, became Peter’s mentor in university. Peter grew too much of a liking for her, from a clingy scholar to her devout worshipper.

WARNING: STORY AHEAD HAS NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLE DRUGGING, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR, OBSESSION. DNI IF TRIGGERED.

You sat on the teacher’s desk, going through the latest thesis published by Dr. Banner last week. He had given you one of the several copies and asked you to go through it and your judgement on it. The classroom was slowly filling in as the scholars stacked in, their buzzes growing loud with each passing trice.

You were on the last paragraph of your current page when a slight thump made you break out of your stupor, you tilted your head up to find a brawny youngster leaning in front of you, with his hand planted beside your ass on the ebony desk. He had blonde locks with grey eyes and was definitely a sports’ team captain, basketball you believed, who had his own posse of wannabes behind him.

You kept the paper down in your lap and met his eyes again with an inquiring look. “Yes?”

“You seem new. Me and my guys will save you a seat at the back, so come there when your little reading session is over, babe.” He said smugly, his eyes brimming with mischievousness as they dipped to your cleavage not-so-subtly and stood there gawking while he awaited your response.

You paused to see the whole class had gone quiet watching your encounter with the jock. You gave him a sickly-sweet smile as you nodded shyly for show and he tapped your knee with his other hand before leaving. As soon as his back faced you, you rolled your eyes so hard at his antics you heard the first-benchers gasp. You could still hear him talking to his ‘friends’, “I love myself a badass girl like her.”

You returned to your thesis but before you could finish the last few sentences, the bell rung and you had to stop. Thanks blondie.

You got down from the desk, jumping on your black heels as you made your way over to the door, closing it as lock clicked into place.

The entire class was watching you with quizzical glances as you stood in front of your desk this time and wrung your hands together, “Good morning class and congratulation on making it to your second year in college, I will be your mentor and also your lecturer for biology for this semester and for those who pass, also their next one.” The entire class’ jaw slackened and you giggled lightly as waited for them to digest the news, and then told them your name.

“I know a lot of you see science itself as a chore but since you’ve already taken it, I suggest you try to pay attention as you will have to study it anyways. However, because I can relate to your struggles, I will try my best to be a companion or advisor, whichever way you prefer it, and help you get through the class with flying colours hopefully. So, ask me anything, no matter how stupid or absurd you believe your doubt or query is. I’ll answer as many times as you ask and trust me when I say that I am a woman of my word. You have any questions for the semester?” You finished with a bright smile on your face as you saw the students in the front relax slightly. At least you had their approval.

“Ma’am” The blonde kid started without raising his hand, stressing the word unnecessarily as he and his horde sniggered at some stupid inside joke, and continued, “Can I have your number?”

Some of the students gulped while the others leaned forward interested in your response. That kid thought he could fluster you by putting you in a weird spot. He smirked arrogantly, leaning back in his chair as you raised your eyebrows.

“That, Mr.?” You paused as you lingered for his answer, which came almost immediately.

“Flash Thompson, but you can call me whatever you want baby.”

His friends hooted at his pickup line, some praising his smoothness while some high-fived him.

“That, Mr. Thompson, is an excellent example of the stupid questions I mentioned formerly. Thank you for helping me make it clearer to the rest of the class, an extra point for you in the first grading assignment.”

His face fell as his jaw ticked and you turned to face the rest of the class again, “Though I suppose I will give you my number but for emergency purposes only, you can contact me on my e-mail though which I will be using most frequently. You are supposed to mail me majority of your papers this semester and the grading pattern is expected to change this time around but I will inform you of that when the time for the first assignment comes around. Any other questions, and if possible, a bit wiser ones?”

Peter knew he liked you that day. You were attractive and stunning, yes, that too in the natural way, without make-up and tight clothes. But of course, there was more to you than that, you were smart and witty, hence a young lecturer in this esteemed college and you being a science enthusiast as well was like chocolate chips on top of a well baked dessert. You were spirited and jaunty and your sardonic and sassy replies were never degrading or humiliating. The five-year difference between you and the class made you their elder sibling rather than professor.

The first benchers worshipped your intellect while the last benchers adored your sarcasm. Everyone could see how you gave your all to teach, every trick for learning, showing real skeletons and organs in formalin, easily becoming the favourite mentor ever. You could easily be labelled as the university’s crush of the year.

But Peter soon began to despise that. The perverted comments by the students and jealous, snarky remarks by the plastics irked him. He was enraged by the geeks admiring you but baffled all the more by the strange palette of emotions he had never suffered before.

The sheer envy he was sinking in had never even surfaced while he dated Liz or MJ. For him you were a Goddess, tons divine than his exes or any other female for that matter, who should be properly worshipped and treasured.

He knew these sentiments weren’t right, but in this twisted world where he had combatted with unnatural beings and seen unimaginable horrors, he began to believe morality is just fiction used by the herd of inferior men to hold back the few superior men.

It was the last day before spring break and no matter how much your pupils loved you, it wasn’t enough for them to not get distracted and murmur around. Only half of your entire class’s strength came and that half somehow managed to create more ruckus than usual. Even you were minutes late, not in the mood to teach this aloof and uninterested batch of youngsters.

You sat on the table and crossed your legs, which was somewhat your habit that you weren’t really proud of but continued to indulge in nonetheless, and cleared your throat times to catch the attention of the unmindfully fantasizing students.

The baritone of the males and shrieky pitches of the females made you clutch your head. You were sure going to end with disprin at the end of day. You clapped loudly and effectively so, gathered the class’s attention, but by the roll of their eyes and glares on their faces, you deduced they weren’t happy. Who would have thought?

“Okay, before you all slaughter me to the netherworld with your lethal gazes, let me make it clear that no teaching will commence today.” The class hollered appreciatively and whistled, while you paused to let them do so. Teaching on the last day before a vacation was like speaking to yourself only but with the consequence of your name being added to several hitlists.

“I’ll distribute the graded assignments submitted last Thursday and then, since I’m required to clock thirty minutes of educating at the bare minimum, we can play something, maybe you have some talents to show, principles to mock or some gossip to attend to.” The college kids laughed at your poor joke, perhaps too thrilled for their break that nothing could make their mood sour. “We’ll see accordingly, but first, raise your hand when I say your name, I want to learn at least the names of the students who bothered to come to uni on the concluding day.”

You distributed the papers back, making sure to associate each name with a face and the students took them stuffing it straight inside, not bothering to check their scoring and possibly wreck their mood.

“Peter Parker?” A hand raised in the second last row shyly, a flustered boy with glasses on his nose and a hoodie covering his head. He barely made eye contact and you smiled at his nervy, edgy form hoping to ease him a bit. Your heels sounded heavy against the few stairs as you made your way to the back, the class buzzing with laughs as students barely paid you any heed.

The draught of epinephrine Peter felt was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like the anxiety on the battlefield or the excessive sweating while impressing Mr. Stark. The apprehension he felt was decuple that.

It’s not like he had never talked to you afore, he constantly asked clever doubts, which he knew the answer to already, of course, to make an impression on you, but that was with a two feet and 7.5 inches of teacher’s desk in between. Yes, he measured. He had even made sure a couple times, let’s be honest, more than several times that his Goddess had arrived her fascinating abode safely.

But this time, they’d be hardly half a foot apart and the anticipation was tearing him apart. He did want her close, in all ways possible, but was he ready enough to not make a fool of himself? All his previous conversations were thought out meticulously and beforehand but was ready for a spontaneous interaction?

“Good job, Smart Cookie.” You mused at Peter with a wink and dropped the paper on his desk as he looked at you with those innocent, doe-eyes of his, his cheeks and nose a tad bit rouge.

Peter’s hearing ability got lost as the sound of his heart pumping blood filled his tympanum. He could only watch you retreat back to the front of the class, your hips swaying invitingly in that damned black pencil skirt as you called another person’s name.

Smart Cookie was his favourite nickname now.

It was pretty late when you left the university premises, finishing up all you had to and even preparing for your first week of teaching after vacation because you knew how procrastinating errands went.

You couldn’t almost believe how you were on the adult end of things, making sure and guiding other people. With the job, came a lot of obligations that you had to fulfil and being responsible was hard, really demanding. You suddenly had a lot of reverence for all the teachers in your life, from kindergarten to your degrees.

You were on a sabbatical from research temporarily, signing a teaching contract for three years minimum and you were satisfies with the refreshment. Interacting young, curious minds was almost like a recreational activity you indulged in free time and the various angles they approached science at even taught you something. The scholars found it in themselves to even question well-established biology.

Slightly humming, you made a mental checklist of what all was left to do for your solo, self-discovering trip the next week. All that you should pack, clothes according to the weather in the hills and enough emergency eatables. Maybe you could revisit the work-in-progress papers of yours or maybe it would be a leisure excursion only.

Only you never made it to your flight.

The pounding of your head made a thrumming noise in your head, increasing its tempo and volume with each passing instant. Your eyelids felt heavy and opening them felt like a chore, which even more difficult considering the light that flooded your vision with every bit they opened. Your senses felt overwhelmed being burdened and strained with their everyday tasks after what you assumed to be at least hours of inactivity.

The sudden spike of pain shooting in your head made you jerk your hand to clutch your throbbing forehead, only to fail and find your hands bounded to something. They weren’t cuffed or shackled, nothing dug in your wrist either. Maybe a rope but the texture wasn’t rough enough. After what felt like minutes, you opened your eyes and sat up, as straight as your confined self could, and looked around.

The room was shades of grey and blue, a giant bed was where you were sitting. The giant ceiling to floor windows beside you, cast enough moonlight in the bedroom for you to see the entire bedroom. The view outside was so picturesque, that you had been gawking were you not afraid of your surroundings. You could discern you were high up, with how small the vehicles looked and another wave terror ran through you.

A white desk with a blue chair had a laptop atop it, also sitting beside several books. You would have noticed them being your subject and recommendation but you were scanning your brain as to how you landed here. With your vision now clearer, you saw your restraints to be like silk but no matter how hard you pulled, they didn’t snap.

You were full on panicking and staring wide eyed when the laptop entered your vision again. There was no other electronic except it and you calmed yourself to think rationally. Deep breaths, in and out. Your best bet right now was to hope that the laptop was connected to someone’s wifi.

You slid off the edge of the bed and tried to cut the weird silk ropes with bedside table’s corner. It took some time but you succeeded, your hands freed from the poster of the bed as you made your way towards the laptop, after checking the locked door of course.

Another wave of panic ran through you when the laptop wasn’t connected to anything and all available connections were password protected. You noticed the laptop to be brand new, and of a very expensive company that was out of your budget. You also noticed the OS was very different, not the usual Windows you ran. Your AI Cortana in this overpriced gadget, was named Karen.

You still refused to wait for your captor to show up and snooped to find something on the laptop, anything. There was no profile of the owner but you did manage to find at least three GB of videos and images.

Your hands froze and eyes widened when you saw the security footage of your building’s outside, the little bakery’s neon sign confirming the location. The videos were the same, of you entering and exiting every day, just the dates on the videos varied.

Another folder had clips with the same dates, but they were in the lobby of your apartment, your potted plants outside your door the affirmation again. It showed you getting milks and newspaper every morning, ordering take out several days and placing the garbage bags outside.

The earliest date in each folder was after your first month of moving here, second week of teaching probably.

When you opened the third folder, as the video started your hands covered your mouth as you tried your best to hold back the sob and making a noise. The screen showed two camera screens, both inside your apartment. The first showed the living room clearly and your kitchen and you concluded it to be behind some article on the bookshelf.

The other screen showed your bedroom.

You could still see the floral bedsheet with the white quilt atop it. Your red suitcase that you took out from the storage for your trip this morning, resting beside the wall. Your lamp switched on from when you mayhap left it on, already late for the last day of work. As the time hit 12 AM at the bottom of the screen, the video ended and played again. There were even more folders and you wondered how far would the surveillance go, till your bathroom?

Your abductor had live footage of your house being sent to his laptop and that scared you shitless. This was not a random crime, that ransom could end. You were here for something, some sick purpose you didn’t even know. Was this a hate crime? Would you even make it-

“I really wish you hadn’t looked there.”

The deep, familiar voice amplified your fear and you turned your head slowly, almost comically to look at him. Another gasp escaped your lips as you found warm eyes of your student and brows furrowed in confusion and fear when you saw the deranged lust in his eyes. Was this some sick prank?

“What am I doing here and what is this?” You gestured to the screen playing footages of the inside of your house. Seeing someone familiar and the probability of this being a prank should have calmed you somewhat but the revolting trick and the strange darkness in the boy’s eyes made you even more wary.

As he took a step closer, you hastily climbed out of the chair and backed away, nearing the bed again as he locked the door and closed in on you. He made a move to snatch you and you jumped to the other side of the bed barely missing him by an inch. You reached for the door hoping to find it unlocked but it didn’t even budge.

You pulled even harder while being painfully aware of how that kid from your class just sat on the bed and observed, having the utmost confidence in the door. Your frenzied state got a jump-scare when a female voice broke the silence, “Authorization to access locked doors is granted to Mr. Parker only, please refrain from damaging the property, Mam.”

So some tech-boy with a rich background is set on you?

“Please sit on the bed and I’ll explain, please.”

His doe eyes would have fooled you were you not extremely aware of your environment due to the adrenaline coursing through your arteries. He was an exceptionally good actor, you had to give him that. You prided yourself to be an excellent judge of character and here this guy had deceived you for three months.

The AI called him Parker, what was his name again?

Patrick? Peyton? Peter? Yes, Peter Parker.

“Peter?” You softly called out and his eyes widened as a blush crept up to his cheeks as he relished the fact that you remembered his name. You sighed internally, praying that this was a case of a harmless crush gone wrong and he was just innocently hopeful. The image of his dark, lust covered eyes crossed your mind to make an argument but you pushed it aside to calm your nerves and stay as relaxed as you possibly could with all that was happening.

“I know that this is all a big misunderstanding but you are really scaring me here. Can you please at least let me out of this room to somewhere open?” You looked at him, hoping to talk him down and get out. You didn’t think he would hurt you but you weren’t willing to take any chances with this maniacal youngster either.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, you’ll run.”

Of course, you’ll run, who wouldn’t?

“Peter, boy, listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me! I admit the situation isn’t ideal and you’re probably terrified because of your meddling but this is all for you! I’m here to protect you! The world out there isn’t safe and your heavenly self needs to be resuscitated.”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense. I’m an adult, older than you and you need to understand boundaries-”

“I’ve seen the way of the world, trust me, in fact, far more than you have! Did you know that raping and murdering women on Asgard is considered a common crime? How Hydra is kidnapping young, bright women to exploit them for breeding projects? How the Red Skull resurfaced and his ideals now include eradicating women from Earth as well?”

“Pete-”

“No, you don’t know! You are just blissfully unaware of this world, so oblivious you don’t even how know the perverted and debauched comments your own class makes?”

His outburst frightened you as you felt yourself losing control of the situation, maybe you never were in control. But now the unleashed fury on Peter’s face told you that had triggered an irrevocable topic.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” You said quietly, hoping to ease him again but his steps towards made you back up yourself to the other side of the bed.

“You, You are still scared of me, aren’t you? You still don’t understand, do you? I’ll show you, show you how much I worship you, the true extent of my devotion.” Every ludicrous declaration of his bit away your hope of getting out.

As he approached you again from the foot of the bed, you jumped across the bed again, hoping to reprise your stunt from before. However, your jumping halted midway as something glued your right wrist to the headboard and you jerked due to inertia of movement. As your eyes looked to your hand, the same silky rope met your vision.

You did not have the time or the wits to ponder over the fluid, about how your abductor shot it or how it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled. A hand on your ankle prompted you to try one last time as you screamed as loud as you could, for as long as your lungs allowed.

“It won’t work, Mr. Stark got me a soundproofed apartment. Pretty cool, right?”

A sob wracked through your entire frame as the tears descended, the frustration and hopelessness and dread, all attacking you at once. Your legs kicked and flexed and when your left fist swung, he restrained all your limbs after dodging, of course.

“I just want to love you, is it too much too ask?” He asked in a quiet whisper, his hands undressing you cloth by cloth; first unzipping the side of your pencil skirt and unwrapping it, then unbuttoning your blouse. When he brought out a pocket knife, your eyes instinctively closed, a “Please don’t hurt me” falling from your lips.

“Never.” He replied with absolute assurance.

The blade cut through your blouse first, leaving you in your garments while Peter sat back on his knees to admire you. You’ve been flattered with the adoration in his eyes had you not gone through the mayhem that you had.

His hand caressed your curves, feeling the soft skin underneath as he took his time admiring you, committing each feature to memory while your tears poured, your eyes never leaving the knife he held.

The blade invaded your privacy once again as it took away your last pieces of defense, leaving you utterly nude and your cries wreaked havoc in the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes found Peter face and you noticed his eyes twinkling in admiration trailing up and down your body several times. His disciple complex was scaring you, you almost bordered considering his Goddess belief.

“So stunning.” He whispered as he came down to kiss you, his lips meeting yours in this bruising embrace of both your mouths and as he began to undress himself simultaneously, his dramatics became the least of your concerns. The thought of the inevitable future made home in your mind and gave you one last bout of courage to try and fight.

The restraints on your limbs didn’t even budge and every fleck of hope deserted your body when you saw the chiseled abs on his scarred torso, his biceps bulging and silently warning you into staying put. He made quick work of his remaining outfit and his hard, angry member was bigger than you had anticipated.

You had not expected a stereotypical nerd to be packing, with muscles and brawns, hardly to even expect him to be the largest among the ones you had ever experienced.

“Please don’t.” You mumbled, defeated, knowing he would not listen. You closed your eyes expecting the intrusion to get it over with. You were caught off handed when you felt him shift and devour into your pussy. He feasted like a man famished, his tongue leaving no area unlapped. The sparks in your abdomen made you queasy and giddy at the same time, you could barely open your eyes due to the intensity of his actions and when he added two of his shockingly calloused fingers, you let go of the coil in mere seconds.

Your limbs sat limp while your vision whitened, your mind foggy and hazy, deprived of all sensibility. When his thick thighs rested on top of yours, your gaze ascended to meet his already staring pupils, the warm, honey brown orbs now a black abyss. You couldn’t even protest in your blissful state as lined himself and entered your cavern, which was lubricated enough courtesy of him.

The stretch burned but as he rocked himself and thrusted with a rhythm, the pleasure started building from scratch. Each push was sturdier than the last and every spot he hit managed to make your breath hitch. Your hands and legs freed as the fluid perhaps melted but the last of your energy was being used by you to stay conscious. When he descended to kiss you once again and trailed kisses to your collarbone, your hands held onto him for support, his biceps providing anchor to you, made of pure muscle.

His teeth bruised your skin as he lightly bit your neck, reaching his end and releasing his load. The warmth that filled you made you let go, his orgasm encouraging another one from you.

Your eyes drooped, your body filled with exhaustion due to all the struggling as you curled in to your side and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to forget your abductor and the forceful, mind shattering ecstasy you felt. Your refused to think about the guilt and the uncertainty of your impending doom in the hands of this maniacal student of yours. You just wished for sleep, for some peace alone.

The wish of yours was not granted when you felt Peter slide behind you, his hand wrapping around your middle as if you were lover. You still gave into slumber, but not before feeling him peck your shoulder with a promise.

“This devotee of yours will worship you forever and always, Goddess.”

#peter parker #peter #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #Dark Fic #dark mcu #dark!peter parker #dark!mcu #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!tom holland #tom holland #tom holland fic #dark!marvel #dark!spiderman #spiderman #teacher reader #mcudarklibrary #ray writes

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kinsurou · 4 years

Text

Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned

Pairings: Dabi x Reader

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: Smut, Incubus!Dabi, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, slight hypnosis, horror elements, sex in a church.

Ever since you were a child, something about that church always got under your skin. Being inside that old building always left a fallacious sentiment. No matter the days, months, or years that were spent performing church service with your whole family.

Every time your younger self would attempt saying something about it to an adult, they would always brush off the child pulling on the ends of their shirt with trembling hands and wobbly pouts.

In the eyes of the adults, you were just a child with plenty of imagination.

And your nana's words never helped either.

For "Nothing bad can ever linger in the house of God."

That was back when you were 18. It was the last time you mentioned anything about that eerie feeling. As well as the last time you stepped inside that church, much to your parent's disappointment.

Now...Five years later, you faced the same house where you grew up, while carrying a suitcase in hand. And a huge, resentful scowl twisting your sceptical face.

Your parents had begged you to come home for the holidays. The same parents who didn't hesitate when they turned their backs on their daughter, after she tore the rosary off her neck.

Had it not been for your nana's decaying health, you would have never come back in the first place. But the elder woman could leave this world any moment now, and she begged to see her granddaughter one more time.

Having dinner with a bunch of people who did nothing but judge your every move was detestable. From your clothes, to your hair, to your studies, everything seemed wrong in their judgemental, hypocrite eyes. It became downright awkward, when you did not keep your thoughts to yourself.

No longer were you the little girl they could carelessly brush off. But that didn't mean you were the golden child either. And frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The only thing you wish could actually change, were the everlasting tremors you felt each time you passed by that old church. Three blocks away from your parent's home. The same church you could watch every single night, through the window of your childhood room.

Just gazing at that building was enough to feel those tremors all over again. You thought the feeling would disappear as you grew older. That maybe, just maybe, your family's words were true.

If only they knew how wrong they truly were...

That night, as you laid in bed, something bizarre happened. You were used to fall asleep at midnight, allowing the soothing melody of the crickets to lure you into a peaceful slumber.But this specific night, something was off. You had fallen asleep at the same time as always, but not to the regular, dreamless night.

But to someone calling out for you. A deep, raspy voice, kept calling your name, and although unable to comprehend the language, somehow, you could understand what it wanted.

Come to me...

The instant your eyes stirred open, a thick and heavy fog made its way deep inside your head, clouding each and every of your thoughts. Except for that urge to follow the voice.

With stupor glazed eyes and a mindless stare, you peeled the blankets off your body and rose up from the bed. No one noticed you walking to the front door, for they were all resting deeply.

Hurry...

The front door was easily opened. This neighborhood was one of the quietest and safest places around, so the need to lock the house at night was unnecessary.

Each step led you down a certain path. You were uncertain where, but that voice most certainly did, as it guided you through the dark and empty streets without much of a struggle.

Had anyone seen you outside this late at night, with an empty look in those usually bright eyes, they would have thought you were just sleepwalking and ended up outside.

Not even the aching in your feet, from stepping over sticks and stones was enough to wake you up. Whatever hold that voice had in your mind was stronger than the feeling of stone digging under your bare feet.

You couldn't even tell how much time had passed, but eventually you reached the place where this voice kept dragging you to. Away from the comfort of you plush, albeit small bed.

An old door with elegant, yet subtle carvings all over its surface, currently blocked the path that lead towards the alluring hum, demanding your presence.

With the strength of your whole body, the door opened effortlessly, allowing you to step inside.

Come.

The moment you stumbled inside, the voice calling out, had a drastic change. The most prominent of them all, was the clarity behind each and every word.

This time, you were able to understand it all.

Come closer, little one...

Once again, your legs moved on their own. Following after the strong, magnetic like feeling that kept on pulling you forwards, like a moth entranced by a radiant flame.

Something changed through your surroundings in an instant. The door slammed itself closed with a tremendous force, rattling the whole building with overwhelming magnitude.

You didn't know what did it, but that chain of events created an uproar, startling you out of that trance, and immediately dissipated the foggy sensation deeply fixated inside your head.

And once your head became clear, nothing but worry began swirling inside your head, accompanied by that very same quivers that went down your spine ever since you turned 18.

Because, you were standing right in front of an all too familiar altar, one inside the very same church that you've come to despise over the years.

Worry began brewing inside you at an exorbitant rate. That horrible sensation of something dark and hostile lurking around the corridors began increasing by the second. Bile threatening to crawl its way up your throat the more you stayed in place.

You had to leave this place, now.

Or at least that was the idea, but no matter how much you tried to open those vast doors trapping you inside, neither of them budged in the slightest. How in the world did they get locked in the first place? The priest had always made it clear that the church's doors should always remain open.

This wasn't normal, at all.

Neither this, or the sudden heath drapped over your back that sent chills down your body, could be considered normal.

"Took you long enough."

The same deep, raspy voice from before, was coming from behind, Sending chill through your body. There was no doubt in your head, that whoever kept calling out for you, and the person standing behind you, were one and the same individual.

"Why don't you turn around, so I can finally see that pretty face of yours?"

A slim hand made its way up your shoulder. Long, sharp claws toyed around with the thin strap of your tank top, making their way under the thin fabric to drag themselves over the soft skin of your shoulder.

Even if you wanted to follow said command, it was nearly impossible to do so when your whole body was frozen in fright.

Carefully, your head turned to the side, just enough to take a small glimpse of this...man? Slowly, your body turned around, and you finally saw the one responsible of bringing you here.

A man stood before you, or at least, you thought he was a human male at first. Had it not been for the long pair of horns on his head, slightly angled down before circling all the way to the back of his skull.

That was just one of the few things about him that caught your eye.

The second thing, was that despite the cold, harsh breeze inside the building, his chest was bare from any clothing, and the only thing that covered this man's psyche was a pair of black, leather pants.

Even his feet were bare, which by the way, also presented the same sharp, black claws as the ones on his hands.

But if that wasn't enough, the last thing you noticed was his scars.

Nearly his whole body was covered with charred skin, holding on to his body by the metallic stitches that retained everything together. A knot could be felt in your stomach when you saw his face.

Those very same scars and stitches, were also over the lower half of his face, and right under his eyes as well. That mesmerizing pair of teal colored eyes of his, that you could almost swear glowed in the dark, calling out for your soul.

He slowly advanced towards you with a long stride, but for every step he took forward, you took one backwards, trying to maintain as much distance between you and him as possible.

Or at least, that was the idea.

Which came crashing down when you felt that cursed door stopping you from going anywhere. He just smirked lazily when he saw the fear inside your eyes, as you turned to glare nervously at the dreaded piece of wood.

"Going somewhere, little one?" One of his hands came up to play with a lock of your hair. When his knuckles brushed against your cheek, some kind of energy racked your head momentarily. It was like an electric shock that sent your brain into a haze. Almost like an instinct, your head tried leaning towards his hand, yearning for more that feeling.

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Judging by his behaviour, he felt something similar. And when he opened them again, you could have sworn his pupils had turned into slits.

"Who would have thought, that after all this time," His eyes wandered all over your body. "You would be coming back? Must be my lucky day."

The same fog that dragged you all the way here came back with force, slowly clouding all of your thoughts like it did before.

It wasn't until he leaned towards your much smaller frame, that you were able to snap out of it. Especially when you felt his breathing ghost over your neck. Blissfully inhaling your scent.

His hum of approval was all the answer you received. But his words were what made you feel real panic.

"You smell so good, so much different from other humans." One of his hands rested on your hip, just above the fabric covering your body. "You'll be a perfect vessel."

...Vessel...?

He pushed himself closer, trapping you against the door. And started kissing softly at the skin all over the side of your neck, before leaving a trail down your collarbone, causing another surge of electricity to rattle your body from head to toe.

The feeling of sharp fangs grazing your skin startled you. Frantically, your eyes went all over the place, eventually landing back on the man...no, on the creature in front of you, purring, nipping and peppering your chest with his lips.

That same feeling of dread triggered your fight or flight instincts. And with shaky arms you mustered as much of your strength, pushing the demon away with a shriek. And before he had a chance to lay his hands on you one more time, you had already escaped from him.

Even he was caught off guard by the push, staggering back with surprised eyes, that slowly became darker. Like those of a starved animal, ready to pounce on his next meal.

In the meantime, you had escaped towards the back of the church. Running away and hoping to find another way out of this damned place.

"I always knew there was something wrong about this place! But did anyone ever listen?! Noooo!" Even as a mere whisper, your voice echoed through the halls. You had to cover your mouth in order to hold back a yelp, when something was violently slammed against the walls.

Tears began filling your eyes as soon as you heard an approaching pair of footsteps. His voice kept getting louder the closer he got.

"Thought I scared you off for good. But you're a big girl now, aren't you?!"

He shouted bitterly, footsteps becoming erratic.

Somehow you managed to avoid him, and ran all the way back to one of the utility closets at the back of the halls. Carefully, you opened the first door that came into view and hid inside the small space.

Hiding between cleaning supplies was never a good idea, but you had no other choice, unless allowing this thing to slaughter you was one of them.

Teardrops became dangerously close to spill when you heard his voice getting closer. The louder his footsteps became, the longer you tried to hold in your breath from the absolute terror you felt.

"I've been watching you for a long time, y'know?" His voice was different this time, calmer, confident, but his frustration was still evident. "Ever since you turned into a grown woman. I could tell there was something different about you!"

Something was once again thrown into a wall, a loud crack could be heard from the wood of whatever he had thrown this time.

"And when you took off that fucking rosary?! I could feel it, I just knew you had something special!"

His footsteps became louder, a warning of just how close he came to your hiding spot. You've never felt this terrified in your life, watching his shadow become bigger the closer he got...But then, he just walked past the door, without even bothering to look back.

When he walked around the corner, you opened the door with care, afraid that the slightest of creaks could alert him of your presence.

And then, you dashed back towards the main entrance.

The fear rushing through your veins kept pushing you, telling you to hurry up and get out of this place. And as soon as you were out of this building you would go to your parent's house to take your stuff and never come back again. All those years you were right, but nobody bothered to listen.

Much to your dismay, the main doors didn't budge in the slightest. Out of frustration, your fist slammed against the wood, the sound echoed loudly all around the place. And your blood went cold when you heard him approaching.

Hiding in the same place as before was not an option, and in a desperate measure, you ran toward the altar at the front, pulling the cloth and crouching down to hide underneath.

It was such a small spot, that you had to pull your knees close to your chest in order to fit in. Your whole body trembled with fear. More so when his presence could be felt as soon as he came into the main halls.

"Where are you, little one? I promise you won't get hurt." The tone of his voice was not reassuring.

You may have turned your back on the church all those years ago. But in that moment, you couldn't help praying to God for your safety. So with your eyes closed and hands intertwined together. You began chanting the very same prayer, strictly inculcated in your family for generations.

Our Father,

Who art in heavan,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done on earth

as it is in Heavan

Give us this day our daily bread,

And forgive our trespasses

as we forgive those

Who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

"Amen/Amen."

Your whole body broke into a cold swear. And when you felt a cold breeze brush against your trembling body, the thought of opening your eyes made your heart pound harshly against your ribcage, so harshly, it could be heard resonating through the small space you were currently hiding in.

Slowly, slowly turning sideways. The sight in front of you drew out a blood curling scream. The pristine cloth of the altar had been pulled to the side.

And he was crouching down in front of you, with a deep, desperate hunger in those feral eyes of his, completely engulfed into nothing but pitch-black. The feral grin on his face sealing your fate in an instant.

"God can't help you now."

You were dragged out from under the altar by the ankle. Struggling, kicking, and begging for him to release you, but each and every word fell on deaf, pointed ears as his body hovered above yours, trapping you between the carpeted floor and his lean body.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear something was wrong with him. The patches of non-burned skin looked sickly pale, like he hadn't been able to eat, or sleep for a long time...Were demons able of sleep in the first place?

"Please...Don't hurt me..." He ignored your pleading whimpers, observing with half-closed eyes as you became closer to burst into tears. The moment the small, salty droplets ran down the corners of your eyes, he leaned down, and kissed them away with a softness that left you paralyzed.

No longer was he behaving as the same creature slamming pews against the walls in a fit of rage. It was almost like a switch had been flipped, and somebody completely different had taken his place.

"You really think, that I'd do something to hurt my precious vessel?" His palm caressed the side of your face. The touch of his skin was electrifying against your own, sending goosebumps through your whole body.

"I'm not going to hurt you, so just relax your pretty little body, and allow your master to take care of you."

He leaned down once again, this time whispering in your ear with that mesmerizing voice of his.

"The name's Dabi, you better remember that name when it's time to worship you master's cock." He growled eagerly into your ear.

All those year he could only watch from afar. Now that you were back, Dabi finally had you right where he wanted you.

He would not let this chance go to waste.

Once again, Dabi started out by kissing your neck, and he had to admit, those gasps were like heavenly music to his ears, as ironic as it sounded.

His black claws started to become longer, and sharper. They made quick work of your shirt, dragging themselves all over the fabric and tearing the thin cotton tank top to nothing but shreds, causing the cold air inside the church to hit your nipples with full force. Even during the hottest time of the year, the inside of the building always felt cold.

Dabi ignored your shivering. Kissing and nipping all the way down from your neck, to the skin of your chest, leaving a small trail of bites on his path. His lips reached down the plush skin of your belly. The cold inside the building could barely be felt from the warmth he made you feel.

Panic overtook your senses when his hands went to the hem of your shorts, finger hooking into the fabric as he attempted to pull them down.

"W-Wait!" You yelled out with hesitation, afraid that your words could end up with a raging demon bringing your demise. But it would probably be worse if he found out on his own, right?

"I'm not...I'm not a virgin!" He stopped immediately, and for a minute you saw your life pass before your eyes.

A low, sarcastic laughter was the only thing he answered with. When you looked at him, Dabi's shoulders were shaking, and he couldn't stop laughing.

"You think that's the only thing demons care about?" You gasped once again, when the remains of your clothes were suddenly torn to shred for the second time, leaving you completely bare to the creature kneeling before you, who took in the sight of your every curve with a famished glint in his eyes.

"Virgins are overrated. Innocence? Purity? Tch." He scoffed in mockery. "Wanna know a secret, little one? Sometimes, the people who claim to be the purest, are actually the worst of them all."

He pulled your legs apart, chest grumbling in satisfaction at the sight of your bare sex present before him. And when your hands went down to attempt covering you body, he just growled, trapping them both by the wrist. Claws digging slightly into the skin, just enough to leave small traces of pain.

"Don't you ever, hide yourself from your master." He growled, slowly releasing your hands, and when you made no other attempts to hide yourself, he retook his proper place in between those exquisite legs.

"And don't think acting all shy will let you off so easily. I can tell just by your scent, just how many people you've laid under the sheets with. I must say, you have experience."

Dabi had to say, that watching your face flushing that harshly, was a sight he'd treasure for all of his eternal life.

Dabi spent centuries trapped inside this damn church, without a single chance to satiate his hunger. Watching people come and go inside the building to confess their sins, hoping the act would save them from the hellfire awaiting for them.

He could say, this was a nice change of scenario.

"Do you need a sin for your next confessional?" The warmth of his breath fanned over your core, and the high pitched squeak coming out through parted lips did nothing but increase his appetite. "'Cause I've got a few in mind I'd like to try with you."

As ironic as it sounded, Dabi almost wanted to thank the heavens. Given that your scent was already addicting, but the moment he dived down, finally getting a taste of your body? He became addicted it.

Addicted enough, to begin devouring you with nothing but pure desperation. Drawing out a breathless moan from you. Nothing but overwhelming pleasure shot through your body from every stroke of that forked tongue against your soaked folds.

"You taste so good." He pulled away for a second, watching your eyes closed shut, the dark flush across your cheeks and the way your breathing came out in heavy puffs of air. "Even better than the finest of wines."

Your arms wouldn't stop roaming, looking for something, anything to cling on of dear life as Dabi continued lapping your glistening core, with nothing but pure vigor in those long, sensual strokes.

And you only hoped it wouldn't anger the demon when you pulled on his hair. As terrified -and aroused- as you felt, the desperation to grab on to something for dear life was stronger than self restrain.

Dabi's reaction was far from expected. His strokes became fiercer, the soft muscle pushing its way inside. Savoring the taste of those velvet walls that coated his jaw with their sweet essence.

Centuries had passed since the last time he fed, and now that he had the chance, Dabi would not let such an exquisite meal go to waste.

You couldn't understand, why did it felt so different from other times? something about the way he devoured you, was too different from your previous partners. It was so good, so addicting, and you couldn't get enough of it.

Your hips buckled against him, a warm feeling began crawling all over your body the more he kept his head in between your legs. And when his thumb went to caress your clit, that feeling began getting stronger.

"Ah!...Dabi, please...!" Your hips buckled against his face, and were quickly brought down by his hands, and a snarl that froze you in place.

"You're interrupting my meal, little one. Stay still, and maybe your master will be generous enough to let you cum."

As soon as you went quiet, Dabi continued where he left off. Each slurp just kept making even warmer on the inside. And when he pulled away to suckle on your swollen clit. It felt like an explosion, nothing but one of the sharpest bursts of pleasure ran through your lower regions, shortly followed by a loud scream and your back arching from the sweet release.

"You're such a filthy little thing." Dabi wiped his chin with the back of his hand. A satisfied grin on his face as he waited for you to regain your breath. "But this was just an appetizer. Now, get ready for the main course."

Everything around was like a blurr, the only thing you recognized was the silhouette of the demon before you. Something felt different around him. That feeling that brought terror upon you disappeared, and when you finally looked at him with clarity, something was different.

That sick complexion of his was gone. Pale skin regaining a healthy looking color, and his eyes became clear from that feral like state.

You didn't have time to ask, as he took you by the wrists, tugging you slightly without much of an effort. And positioned you both in a way, that he was laying down on the floor, while your sat down on his lap.

Looking down between your bodies -When did he take his pants off?!-, the sight of his erect member was definitely a sight to remember...

For starters, his head was modestly pointed, followed by a trail of ridges all the way to the base, and not just that...It was huge.

You may not be a virgin. But how the hell was that going to fit in?

"Like what you see?" Even his attitude had changed, now he wouldn't stop teasing, at the same time he took a hold of your hips. His hands dragged your body back and forth, grinding your lower lips against him with leisurely gestures. The friction, along with how sensitive you were from your previous orgasm, turned you into a whiny mess for the second time that night.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad. Nobody, and i mean NOBODY, will ever be able to satisfy you. Not like your master."

Slowly, he lifted up your hips, before pulling you back down, slamming his girth deep inside your throbbing cunt until the base of his length was pressing against your clit.

You screamed in bewilderment. Amazed by the way Dabi made you feel as he buried himself deeply inside of you. The way your insides stretched, adjusting themselves to his size, and the friction from every ridge of his girth was absolutely marvelous. It was like a fire consuming you from the inside. It was hot, so hot that it could burn, and you wanted more.

"What's wrong, little one?" Dabi grunted in satisfaction, loving the dazed look in your eyes from the slightest of movements. His hands guiding your hips back and forth with a quick pace. "Enjoying your master's cock?"

"Ah!...Y-Yes!...I love my master's c-cock!" You yelled out, leaning forward to rest your hands on his chest, head tilted back with pure euphoria on your face as Dabi had his way with your body.

He had to admit it, you really were perfect. And there'd be no way he'd let you walk away once he was done with you.

"Then prove it, show me how much you love to be fucked by your master! Worship his cock like your life depended on it!"

Obeying his every command, you began moving on top of him. When Dabi said he'd ruin you, he was serious. Nothing you've ever done before came remotely close to what he made you feel in that moment.

Each and every of his thrusts was powerful enough to make you see stars. With every thrust, his head brushed against the deepest corners of your sloppy insides, easily kissing your womb.

A part of you felt ashamed of your actions. You were riding a demon's cock in the very same place where your parents got married. The very same place where they baptized you.

Many sins were committed during your life, but this? This was definitely a sentence to hell.

"Oh...Oh God!" Your eyes widened in bliss, wandering all around the walls of the church. In the midst of it all, you realized Dabi had positioned you both, in a way that you sat right in front of the statue of the lord. It almost made it seem as if the lord himself, was judging your actions with nothing but a disgraceful eye.

Dabi let out one of the darkest chuckles you've ever heard. Dark enough to make every hair in your body stand.

"God won't hear you now, little one. But the devil will"

In the blink of an eye, he was sitting up. Embracing your waist with a deathly grip. His already rough pace became downright barbaric, so much that it started hurting, but it hurt so fucking good.

The feeling of another climax rattled your thoughts. Everything around you became a blur from the upcoming high. Dabi felt it, and knew he had to get it done fast, it was the perfect chance, and there was no way he would let it go to waste.

"You're getting close, little one. Aren't you?" He pulled your body closer to him, into the suffocating waves of heat. Your wrapped your own arms around his heck, and held him closer to yourself, running your nails along his scalp in the process, which made him purr in enjoyment.

For a minute, you could have sworn you saw something akin to a blue flame coming to life around him. "Do it my pet, come for your master. And lend your soul to me."

His mouth latched on your neck, tongue running circles around the soft skin, looking for a certain spot. And when he found just the right place, his fangs bit down harshly. Right at the same time your climax overtook your senses.

All you could do was scream as you felt him tear on the skin with those sharp fangs of his. A warm, sticky sensation ran down your shoulder all the way to your chest. Followed by a scorching pain.

The smell of copper and smoke became intoxicating as Dabi's body trembled, and then he let out an earth shaking roar as he came. Filling your womb with rope after rope of scalding, hot cum.

Exhaustion took over your limp, shaking body. As much as you tried to move, even attempting to lift a finger was considered impossible.

Dabi planted a small, tender kiss on the spot where he sunk his fangs less than a minute ago. During that time, your sweat covered bodies clung to eachother's, still yearning for much craved contact, all while trying to catch your breath.

When he pulled away, Dabi admired his work as the bite he left on your neck glowed brightly, before dying down and leaving behind a beautiful, burgundy mark.

Finally, after so many years trapped in this goddamn place, he finally had a vessel. Now, he could leave once and for all.

Dabi carefully pulled away, watching his seed run down your shaky legs with every little throb of that delicious, little hole of yours. If claiming a vessel wasn't that draining to begin with, he'd definitely fuck you again.

"You, are perfect." He carried your passed out self in his arms. Taking you all the way to one of the pews, where he laid you down softly on the wooden surface. One of his hands brushed a loose strand of hair back into its proper place. "I'll see you soon, little one."

Taking one last look at his sleeping vessel, Dabi turned on his feet and walked to the church's entrance. As soon as he got closer, the door opened gracefully on its own.

For the first time in centuries, he was finally able to leave his prison. And with a deep breath of relief and a serene smile, Dabi walked away from the church, disappearing into the dark depths of the night.

......

"...W...up....Wa...ke...Wake up.." Someone kept calling out your name.

Slowly, your eyelids stirred open, and the first thing you saw was a black cassock coming into view, accompanied by the worried face of a middle-aged man you've known since childhood.

What was father August doing in your room?

"Thank god, you're finally awake. What are you doing sleeping in the church?"

Wait...Church?

Your eyes widened in an instant. Father August's words made the memories from last night come back abruptly. The voice, being locked inside the church....And Dabi.

You got up from the pew where you had fallen asleep, and looked around frantically before looking down at your body. All of your clothes were unscathed. But you could have sworn they were torn to nothing but rags after Dabi tore them apart with those big, black claws of his.

Dabi...Where was he?

Thinking about him made you realize something. For the first time, the church no longer felt cold. It had a warm, welcoming feeling to it. Had this sensation been here all those years ago, you'd probably still be on good terms with your family.

"Are you feeling unwell? You seem pale."

"Y-Yeah..." You looked all around the church. The pews that had been slammed into the wall, broken into pieces, were good as new. And the altar at the front, where its cloth had been carelessly thrown to the side when Dabi found you hiding, was also untouched.

"Was it just a dream?" You asked to yourself. Remembering everything the demon did to you, yet not a single part of your body felt sore. In fact, you felt better than ever. So full of energy.

"What are you talking about? Are you having night terrors again?"

Oh shit, Father August was still here.

"N-No! Everything's fine, father!" You reassured the older man that stood straight in front of you. "I must have sleep walked all the way here! Remember I used to do that when I was a kid? ahahaha..."

No way you would tell him about what happened last night....If it ever happened in the first place.

He was kind enough to walk you home. To say your parents were worried was putting it lightly. They were terrified when your mother went to wake you up and found the bed empty. It was strange, watching how worried they were about you, when they never bothered to call you for a long time.

A tired sigh left your lips once you finally went inside your bedroom. It was barely morning and the whole house was already in chaos.

"Right, today we're going to see Grandma." The suitcase was pulled on top of the mattress with ease. Good thing you preferred to travel lightly. "Better get changed now."

From the small arrangement of clothes, you picked out a white sundress. Then you pulled out the hair dryer as well and turned back to the mirror so you could fix the bird nest in your head, also called hair.

When you saw th reflection in the mirror, your whole body became stiff.

There was a strange mark on your neck. A deep shade of burgundy adorned your skin in the shape of a small flame, running down all the way to the collarbone...Right in the spot where he bit you last night.

The dryer fell out of your hands with a loud clank as you stood in front of the mirror, watching this...thing on your neck with pure horror.Why didn't anyone say anything when you came in with this mark covering a good portion of your skin?!

Your thoughts were interrupted when your mother barged inside the room with a worried look on her face. And you were quick to cover the mark before she could see it.

"What happened? I heard something falling?" She looked at you in worry.

"N-Nothing! The dryer just slipped from my hands!" But she wasn't satisfied by that answer, and squinted in disdain when she saw the way you hid from her prying eyes.

"What are you hiding? Don't tell me you actually got that tattoo?!" She approached with an angry pace to take a closer look at your neck.

"I told you, it's nothing!" But she didn't listen, pulling your hand away from your neck by force. Your eyes closed shut, expecting her to start yelling just like that time you got your ears pierced again.

"Why are you grabbing your neck? Does it hurt?"

"You can't see it?" You asked quietly. But she just gave you a look.

"See what?"

So...they couldn't see the mark on your neck?

..........

Three weeks later, you finally came back to your precious apartment, away from your family, and that cursed church. But also away from an answer.

What happened that night? Did something even happen at all? Or was it just your brain playing tricks on you?

Groaning in frustration, you decided to forget about everything and kept walking back home, carrying a bunch of groceries to restock the fridge. Besides, tonight was Taco Tuesday, and you were eager to start preparing your meal.

When you got inside the building's main hall, you could see the landlord talking with someone at the lobby, but their back was facing you, so at the moment, it was impossible to see their face.

The moment the old lady saw you walk inside, her face lit up with joy as she waved at you, and made a gesture to come closer.

"Good afternoon dear! How did your little visit go?" She was always a curious woman, but never meant it in a bad way. There was nobody in the apartment complex who didn't love Miss Yuki.

"Good afternoon Yuki! And well, you already know how it went. It's always the same after all..." You grumbled, not really feeling like going into detail about what happened.

Then you turned sideways to see her guest. A dark haired male just stood there, watching the interaction between the older woman and you with a lazy smile.

He was wearing a pair of ripped, dark jeans. Black military boots, and a white T-shirt underneath a leather jacket. One of his most prominent features was those teal eyes of his.

Somehow....He seemed familiar.

"Oh how rude of me! My memory's not what it used to be!" Yuki clapped her hands together, embarrassed that she just ignored her guest in favor of talking to you.

"This is Touya! He just moved into the apartment right next to yours! I was just about to take him to his new home, but I need to take Mochi to the vet. Would you please be a darling and show him the way for me?"

"Ah, that naughty cat? again?" You laughed sarcastically. That cat of hers always seemed to get into trouble for something. "Don't worry Yuki, I'll take him off your hands!"

"You're such a sweetie! Now, here are your keys, Touya. Please let us know if there's anything you need help with!" She handed Touya the set of keys, and swiftly walked inside her home.

Turning back to Touya, you greeted him with a sheepish smile, ignoring the burning sensation at the side of your neck.

"So, I guess we're neighbors. Welcome to out little community. Just let me put this in my fridge and I'll give you a tour!"

"Ah, yeah. Thank you for the help." ...Even his voice was familiar.

You walked together to the second floor. On the way there, Touya mentioned how her was starting anew. Away from everything, and everyone. In a way, he was just like you.

"Well, this is my place!" You beamed, juggling with the set of keys and the bags in had. Touya had offered to help, but you refused. After you finally unlocked the door with a victorious hum, you pushed it open with your hips, walked inside and turned back to face your new neighbor.

Who's face, for some reason, became dead serious the moment you looked him in the eye.

"Please come in. I'll prepare some coffe!" As cheerful as you were. The smile slowly, slowly disappeared when you saw the way Touya was staring at you.

There was a dangerous smirk on his face, and an all to familiar glint in his eyes...

He quickly stepped forward, and stood in front of you with a proximity, that allowed you to feel the heat of his whole body. He trapped your chin in between his fingers, and licked his lips with an evident hunger in those blue orbs.

"W-What are you doing?" The nerves were such, that you didn't notice when the bags of groceries fell from your hands, and the carton of milk spilling all over the floor, creating a puddle besides your feet.

"Remember what I told you last time?" From the corner of your eye, you could see those same horns from that night, slowly starting to come out. Your heart pounded against your chest. And the burning sensation in your neck became unbearable the moment his eyes became engulfed in black.

"I told you I'd see you again...Little one."

With those last words, your door was quickly slammed shut.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro

#mha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #dabi smut #bnha dabi #bnha smut #mha smut #touya smut #dabi is touya #dabi x reader

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Reconciliation

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You seek the help of an old friend when you accidentally end up in the middle of a blood bath. Word Count: 1.8k

It all started ages ago, when you walked into the same class as the infamous Timothy Drake. If it wasn't for the Wayne Grant, your parents would never have been able to send you to such a fancy school…not that you understood that at 5 years old. Since that day the two of you were inseparable. You had practically lived at Drake Manor, and when Mr. Freeze killed your parents, you did. Not that Jack and Janet had any idea.

A few years later Jack and Janet were gone and Tim was taken in by none other than Bruce Wayne himself. Thankfully, Tim let you remain in his house. At first, everything was normal, but after the first year, he started to visit you less and less. He became more distant and secretive with each interaction and eventually, he stopped coming altogether. You made the decision to leave once you graduated high school, after all, it had been over a year since Tim had bothered to come see you. What would he care?

You jumped on a bus, clutching a backpack full of your belongings…and a few things from the Drake Manor. Somehow you lucked into a full-time nanny job for some wealthy family a few hours away. You were afforded a small living quarters, a stipend, and access to anything already at the mansion. The little girl was only 3 years old at the time. It's hard to believe that was 2 years ago.

You and Kaylee were upstairs when you heard a large group of people force their way through the front door. As you peaked out of the room, you saw a parade of people with their guns drawn. Immediately you rushed back into the room and whispered, "We are going to play a game."

"Game?" The child's ears perked up. You nodded your head as you made your way to the window. Opening it, you slowly climbed out and motioned for her to follow. You had no idea how long you stayed up there, pressed against the side of the house praying no one came looking. Eventually, the noises had stopped.

"Wait right here for me, okay?" She nodded as you made your way back to the window. "Don't move a muscle until I come for you." Your mouth hung open as you descended the staircase. Bloodstained the room as bodies littered the floor. As you walked over to the filleted bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Barco, your vision blurred as you felt the back of a hand strike your face. Staggering backward, you opened your eyes to see a man grinning before you. His eyes trailed down your cheek and landed on the sizable ring that graced his own finger. You began to feel the warm blood drip down your cheek. A state of panic washed over you just as you felt your knuckles collide with his ribs. Dodging his next blow, you thrust your shoulder into him and grappled for the gun tucked in his waistband. He looked almost pleased as he stared down the barrel.

"Whatcha gonna do with that, hun?" When you refused to answer, he continued. "You know you're going to be dead soon. What's the point…" Your eyes locked onto his hand, which was slowly inching towards your own.

The ringing in your ears had just barely subsided when you reached the top of the stairs. You slowly climbed out the window and ushered Kaylee to come inside. Her feet had just touched the ground as the words lucidly fell from your lips. "I need you to promise me that you won't open your eyes. We are going on a surprise trip." If Kaylee could tell something was wrong, she wasn't letting you know. You walked as fast as you could with the small child on your hip.

Your mind had gone completely blank, your eyes glazed over as you drove. You didn't know where you were going, but your motions seemed instinctive. As you pulled up to the gates, everything began to wash over you. Pressing the call button, the only words you could stutter out were: "It's Y/N. I need Tim." Thankfully, the message worked and the gates began to open. You drove up to the ornate front door, but couldn't force yourself out of the car. A knock on the window shook you out of the trance. It was Alfred.

"Mx Y/N, welcome. Perhaps you and your guest would be more comfortable in the house. I have already summoned Master Timothy." You just nodded as you stepped out of the car. Every move your body made relied on muscle memory: opening the back door of the car, unfastening Kaylee's car seat, placing her on the ground beside you. Alfred led you inside to the kitchen before kneeling down and facing Kaylee. "And what is your name?"

"KAYLEEEE!" She gleefully screamed at him.

"Ahhh, Miss Kaylee. How would you like a snack?" Kaylee's eyes went wide as she furiously nodded her head up and down. Kaylee looked up to you for permission as Tim rounded the corner, already speaking.

"Alfred, what's so --" Tim froze as he saw you sitting at the kitchen counter.

"You my Y/N/N's friend?" Kaylee narrowed her eyes as she glared at Tim. Her eyes softened as Tim slowly shook his head yes. "Make sure they get ban aid. Prefably a princess one." Once satisfied, she turned her attention back towards Alfred and her snack.

You turned towards Tim, revealing the gash on your cheek surrounded by a newly forming bruise. Tim rushed to your side, grasping your hand in his, just as the words began spilling from your mouth. "Tim, I'm so sorry. I just didn't know where else to take her. They were dead..."You felt your body giving out, "all of them…"

"Calm down. We'll figure this out. You need rest." He refused to let you speak anymore as he scooped you up from the chair and carried you upstairs. Carefully, Tim sat you on his bathroom counter and began cleaning the wound. Once it was bandaged he brought you over to the bed. "Now what happened?" He looked at you, his heartbreaking as he watched the tears fall from your eyes.

"They're dead. So many bodies. Tim, I can't see anything but blood." You collapsed into his chest, trying to conceal the overwhelming panic.

You had no idea how long you stayed like that, all you know is you woke up with Kaylee cuddled to your chest and Tim sitting at the adjacent desk.

"Tim?" His eyes shot up at the sound of your voice. You slowly got up and walked down the hall and into the study. You didn't check to see if Tim was following you, but you knew he was. Ignoring the unknown man already occupying the room, you continued onto the balcony. "I just don't know what happened." Your eyes glazed over as you stared into the distance. You knew if you looked at Tim, you would break down again. "People stormed in with guns. Me and Kaylee hid. Once I came back in, everyone was dead. Her whole family. Their security team. Everyone. And then this man came up and struck me. I thought I was dead. All I could think of was Kaylee, sitting on the roof, alone, confused. And I shot him." You turned around and stared into Tim's dark blue eyes. "They're going to kill me now. Aren't they?" The tears bubbled up, but you refused to let them fall.

"Y/N, how much did you know of that family?" Concern laced his voice. That voice that you hadn't heard in years. That voice that used to be your home.

"They were rich and needed a nanny." You looked down at your fiddling fingers, "I didn't have many options, so I didn't ask any questions."

Tim took a deep breath, pushing down his anger. "They are…were one of the biggest crime families in the country." The words rang in your mind as you forced your eyes back on the horizon. You didn't even realize Kaylee had woken up and walked into the study. Or that the unidentified man took her by the hand and led her from the room carrying a fairytale book. "You really didn't know?" Tim's brows furrowed.

Too many emotions were spinning around your head until one of them exploded. "Why the fuck would I know that?!" You made no attempts to sedate your anger.

"You worked for them for years, Y/N!"

"Well clearly you knew, so maybe an old friend should've warned me!" The anger wasn't geared towards him, not really. Though seeing him again, feeling all this again, that's something you never thought you'd have to do. And that was just the icing on the cake. An eerie silence blanketed the air. "I shouldn't have come here," you mumbled before turning to leave. "I shouldn't have put you in danger."

Tim stood stoic as your words played over and over in his mind. He never told you of his nightly activities for this exact reason. So you wouldn't be thrust into this chaotic world. And now here you are, begging for his help, and he let you walk away. Again.

A pillow slammed into his face, knocking him from the stupor. "Probably not a good idea to let them leave. Love of your life, Barco heiress, not a great combination."

"Shit." Tim pushed past Jason, ignoring his snide remarks because unfortunately, he was right. Tim grabbed your arm just as you opened the front door. "Wait!" Tim yelled as he pushed the door closed. "I can't let you leave."

"Wh --"

"Look," Tim cut you off and began pulling you through the house. "I need to show you something."

"Where…where am I standing right now?"

"The Batcave." His voice faltered as he stopped in front of his Red Robin costume.

"So you're a superhero? Are you kidding me?"

"I don't have any powers, so I don't think I would qualify…" Tim's voice trailed off as he watched your eyebrows raise and a disapproving smirk form. "Anyways. I can help. I want to help."

"I can't ask you to do that." You tried to turn away, but Tim laid his hands on your shoulders. His eyes lingered on yours.

"You were supposed to be safe. Away from me. That's the only reason I let you go. I was wrong. You're safer with me and I'm not letting you go again."

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cloud-9ine · 4 years

Text

Through a Golden Lens (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - hawks x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - some language, hawks flirting, reader’s cynicism

⤷ summary - reader is a bitter, overworked photographer at a hero press agency with little patience for her newly assigned muse- hawks

⤷ word count - 4.5k+

⤷ notes - i have lots of ideas so this is probably going to be a multi-part series. also new to tumblr so this might not be the best

⤷ pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

“Mr. Hawks! Please look this way!” his heavy lidded eyes rolled to the side as another blinding flash burned through his vision.

“You look perfect, thank you!” it was hard to smile for their benefit, but he managed. Hawks had attended countless of these events for the press. It had been exhilarating at first, with the rush of adrenaline from the cameras and the lights and the endless stream of compliments solidifying his place in the public eye.

Nowadays, it was less thrilling. After a while, they all seemed the same- each one blurring into a senseless flare of cameras and hollow accolades.

He was bored, to say the least.

“Mr Hawks, would you like to come and see? I’d love to hear your opinion on this set!” with a practiced, easy smirk he nodded. It was easier to pander to the artist than to criticise their work.

He looked good, but when did he not? The shoots were easy to glide through. All he had to do was pull a boyish grin, ‘make love to the camera’ as the photographers always liked to spout. It didn’t really matter what he did: the public would eat up anything with his face slapped on to the front. They all looked the same to him, anyway.

“Looks good,” he wondered why people were so easily satiated by shallow praises, but as he stared at the younger lady’s blush, he couldn’t help but realise that maybe it was him who had something to do with it.

Hawks couldn’t help his gaze from drifting to the door. His skin prickled in the humidity of all the moving bodies in one enclosed space and he longed to take a step outside and stretch his wings in a way that wasn’t to pose for a magazine.

For a moment, he felt like his prayers had been answered when the door opened, letting in a stream of natural light to breach the artificiality of the modelling room.

”(L/N)! You were supposed to be here over three hours ago!” the woman in front of him exclaimed, ripping the camera away from his view and marching to the figure that appeared in the light. He blinked in surprise: this entire shoot he hadn’t heard her raise her voice above anything but a low mumble when conversing with him, and now she was positively fuming.

You stared down at your co-worker through honey-tinted shades, expression unamused.

“Yeah, and I was also supposed to be out of this job three years ago. We don’t all do what we’re supposed to, cupcake.”

For a moment, Hawks thought you were a model. Tasteful cream turtleneck tucked into heavily creased mocha skirt, caramel beret perched on your head. There were a few metal, classy looking rings wrapped around your fingers, but as far as he could see, no wedding ring. It was pretty standard style for those who worked in the arts, but somehow you wore it so well.

Your hair was a little dishevelled, and the dark circles under your eyes combined with the coffee cup in your hand were obvious signs of a rough night. His eyes locked on to the loopy black handwriting on the brown band around the cup.

(L/N) (Y/N)

You were no model, but Hawks couldn’t see the difference.

His wings beat lightly behind his back as he glided over, weaving through the other photographers and models scattered around the area.

“Hey there, I’m Hawks,” he said smoothly, voice saccharine as he spoke to you. Your attention turned to him as you glanced at him from above the frames of your sunglasses, seemingly unimpressed.

“This the new boytoy, Mizuki?” you asked, eyes raking up and down his figure. Hawks was never one to shy away from the gaze of others, but the way you were inspecting him made him feel so exposed.

“Show some respect,” Mizuki muttered, voice lowered at Hawks’ presence but glare still piercing. You sighed, sparing one last glance at Hawks before snatching the camera out of Mizuki’s hands, leaving her scrambling for the device as you walked away.

“Lemme see what you’ve got already,” Mizuki’s face grew red, half from anger towards you, and half because of the embarrassment of being diminished in front of Hawks.

“(L/N) y-you can’t just come in three hours late and take over! I’ve already done the shoot and Hawks has already expressed that he is pleased with the outcome,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and shooting the shorter woman a glare over your shoulder.

“There’s no way you’re gonna force me to come into work and make me sit here doing nothing,” you sneered, waving the camera around almost teasingly, “you wanted someone actually skilled to do this shoot, and here I am. Let me do my thing,” without waiting for a response, you left, thumb fumbling with the dial that allowed you to scroll through the photos.

Hawks was impressed. You hadn’t bat an eye when you saw him, and while you were very clearly very late, you were confident in your skills and obviously took your job seriously.

“Who was that?” he questioned, wings spreading slightly as his eyes chased after you. Mizuki bowed her head, remorse filling her expression.

“I apologise for her impertinence. That’s (L/N), she was who your original photographer was supposed to be today, but when she didn’t show up I had to take over,” she huffed, “she’s been like this for about a year now, and the boss is prepared to fire her if she keeps it up. So you’d think she’d be able to pull her at together for you, Mr. Hawks...”

After a while, Hawks tuned out her whining, eyes curiously trained on you, surveying your furrowed brows and expression pinched with annoyance as you studied the photos. Although they looked good enough to him, it appeared that you didn’t share the same sentiment.

Hawks didn’t have time to avert his eyes when you turned your head, gaze locking on to his. You raised a slightly suspicious brow, but otherwise didn’t entertain his actions.

“Mizuki, why would you use cool lighting?” you called over your shoulder, not even sparing the decency to turn around and face the person you were addressing. Mizuki frowned, moving to your side. Like a magnet, Hawks did the same, peering over your other shoulder. You eyed him from the corner of your vision for a second before tapping the screen.

“What do you mean?” you sighed at your co-workers words, evidently frustrated.

“Considering you have bird boy over here in dark academia, accented in warmer yellows, using cool lights will bring out too much of a contrast. We need to match the accent colours with warmer lighting, or use a overlay,” you muttered, seemingly addressing yourself more than the two of them. Mizuki just shook her head.

“That would just oversaturate the image,” you snorted, giving her the same patronising look an adult would give a child if they tried to outsmart them.

“Not necessarily. I could spot-reduce saturation in highlight areas during editing. Or, if you really want your contrast, I could neutralise the warmer shades by using a blue, or compliment them using a red,” Hawks didn’t miss the way you said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Mizuki looked agitated, her frown growing deeper.

“Even so, we only have white backdrops. That would be a jarring contrast. You’d need something darker or more clustered to make it work. If you wanted a backdrop change you probably should’ve come earlier,” she spoke with a formality that obviously stemmed from Hawks next to her, but you paid no mind. You were silent for a moment, and Hawks could see your eyes narrowing as you were thinking.

“I need a natural background, huh?” you mumbled, thumbing the buttons on the camera. With a shrug, “alright, bird boy, come on, we’re leaving,” Hawks blinked in surprise as you spun on your heel, a grin breaking onto his face. Finally, he got to leave.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you shot him an irritated look.

“Don’t call me that. I’m 22, not 40,” his feathers ruffled up. “Hey, I’m also 22! What a coincidence, right?” he grinned, winking at you. You just responded by rolling your eyes.

Mizuki spluttered, trying in vain to get either one of you to stop as Hawks trailed after you.

“L-Look, you can’t just leave-” you turned, shoving the camera back into her hands, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Watch me,” your voice was cold, goading her to try and stop you, “bird boy, out, now.” Hawks didn’t have to be told twice. Some of the others whispered and muttered as they realised what was going on, but they all fell quiet when you shot them a sharp glare.

He breathed in the fresh air with a content sigh, his chest feeling lighter now he was out the cramped room. The amber glow from the late afternoon sun kissed his tanned skin as he stretched his arms above his head, his forearms flexing slightly under his dark blazer. His eyes shut in bliss and head tilted back, exposing his sharp jawline.

You eyed him slightly, eyes trailing across his features. Now that you had actually left, you were a little lost on what your plan was. You didn’t regret storming out of there, though, nor did you even consider turning back to apologise.

You took your own camera out of the dark camera bag slung across your body, careful not to scratch it on the tripod, and focused the lens on Hawks. It was smaller, a little more compact than the ones Mizuki and the others were using, but you found that it was much better suited for portrait work.

The click of the camera shutter brought Hawks out of his stupor, eyes snapping open and immediately landing on you. Your attention had already been diverted to the screen, studying your work.

“The modelling room is stuffy, I’ll give you that,” you mumbled, zooming in on his face, “but you can stretch while we walk,” Hawks leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the shot.

“Aw, you make me look so good, I’m flattered!” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be,” you took a large sip of your coffee, moving down the pathway as you thought. Hawks scrambled after you, his wings puffing out when he reached your side. You couldn’t help but gaze at the bright red feathers as he unfurled his wings, a small, happy chirping noise rumbling at the back of his throat once they were fully spread behind your back. They were warm, you noticed, feeling the heat through your turtleneck.

Your vision was filled with a cheeky smirk painted on full lips, Hawks’ face appearing in front of your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you sized him up.

“See something you like?” you rolled your eyes as he purred.

“Not in the slightest, bird brain,” his wings beat behind his back, hand clutching the fabric on his chest.

“Oh, how you wound me!” Hawks cried, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, which you quickly covered with your coffee cup.

“I’m sure you’ll face a villain that will do greater damage than I could,” he hummed, angling his face towards the sun.

“So, where are we headed?” you chewed on your bottom lip, slinging your camera over your shoulder.

“It can’t be anywhere with lots of traffic, you attract a lot of attention, you know?” it was a rhetorical question, but Hawks’ chest still puffed out in pride at your words.

“Thanks, it’s because of my raging-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, “either way, I have a pounding headache and I do not have enough shits to give to put up with your fan girls today,” with a sigh, you rubbed your temples. Hawks stared at your clenched teeth.

“Hey, why do you-” “I think I know where we can go,” he frowned.

“You know it’s not polite to interrupt people like that-”

“Sunflowers.” your tone dripped finality as you faced Hawks, a brazen determination in your eyes he hadn’t seen until now. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

Breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and eyebrows furrowed when you sped your pace, gulping down more of your coffee.

“Uh, what?” you waved a hand dismissively.

“There’s a sunflower field in Fukuroi City, I think it’s west from here,” the tiniest of grins etched onto your features, “it’s gonna be a lot more interesting than the rest of those blank background. Plus, the yellow will compliment your clothes, and with the sun low in the sky I’ll get my perfect warm lighting,” you explained. Hawks wasn’t sure exactly how much of a difference it would make, but the idea seemed charming, and it was more exciting than being perpetually flanked by a white screen.

“Sounds good,” he chirped, “although, to be honest, you could take me out anywhere and I wouldn’t mind,” you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a shame, because I don’t intend to hang around any more than I have to,” Hawks pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, I wanna know more about you!” you bristled.

“Good for you.” the two of you fell into a beat of silence before Hawks smiled, undaunted.

“I’m sure I can win you over somehow,” shaking your head in disbelief, you lifted the cup to your lips, before looking down disappointedly when you realised it was empty.

“I don’t have enough coffee for this,” you muttered. Hawks’ expression brightened.

“That’s an easy fix: your agency is around here so you must know there area pretty well,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was on a casual lunch date and not in the most expensive outfit you’d seen in your entire life, “what’s the best place to grab a coffee?” for a moment, you looked taken aback, before shaking your head.

“Best café in these parts is the Sunset Hour,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck, “but as much as I have no inhibitions regarding bunking off work, that’s a little too far away. I need to take this pictures before the end of the day or Mizuki’ll submit those crappy ones she took in the studio,” Hawks nodded in understanding, smile never faltering for a second.

“Well I gotta get you your caffeine fix somewhere, so what’s the second best?” your expression scrunched in thought for a moment, before you jutted a thumb over your shoulder.

“There’s a Starbucks across the road,” he snickered seeing your blank expression.

“Not exactly where I would want our first date, but I suppose it’ll do,” rolling your eyes, you shoved the empty cup to his chest, which he gripped almost instinctively.

“Good thing this isn’t a date, then,” Hawks grinned, sending your empty cup on a feather to the nearest bin before chasing after you as you crossed the road. You didn’t spare him a single glance when he appeared at your shoulder, nor when he reached over above your head to open the Starbucks door from behind you.

“So you’re saying we can have our first date somewhere else?” with a shallow sigh, you shook your head.

“What I’m saying is that there’s not gonna be a first date. Not between us,” his chest tightened. God, you were so mean. He’d be into that.

The inside of the Starbucks was a mix between modern, western architecture and traditional Japanese woodwork. The equipment was all cutting edge, and the tables and chairs were made with a sleek mahogany, but the windows were framed with bamboo shutters, and the backroom was separated with shoji sliding doors. It was an curious blend, one that you studied with an interest. The deep, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans heavily imbued the air, filling your nose with the aroma of something far more familiar.

Given it was the late afternoon, and most people tended not to drink caffeine after 2pm, the patrons were few and far in between. Good for you, at least. It meant you wouldn’t get- “Hawks? Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture?” your head turned at the voice that rung out.

Two high school girls stood to your left, hands clutched together in front of their chests and a dark pink coating their cheeks. With a small sigh, you took a step forward in the small queue. Hawks smiled with all the faux charm in the world, an obvious change in his demeanour as his pride spiked.

“Of course! And just as it happens, I have my personal photographer here who can make sure your photos look amazing as you two do!” it took you a moment to register what he had said through the excited squeals of the girls before he clutched your shoulders and pulled you forward, causing you to stumble slightly.

“Your what?” he sent you an audacious smirk, willing you to play along as one of the girls handed you her phone. Your first instinct was to decline, but as you met the eyes of the girls, so eager and bright, you couldn’t find it in you to disappoint them.

Taking a couple steps back, you lifted the phone, slightly angling it so the picture looked more natural, and not that of a celebrity and their fans (even if it was). You squinted angrily at the poor lighting, but tried to rectify it the best you could. The girls looked a little tense, but Hawks was a natural. A liberal smirk played on his lips and shoulders rolled back, relaxed. Even with the low lighting, the highlights on his cheekbone and jawline were indescribably perfect, and you weren’t sure if the credit should go to you or his god-like genes.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” one of the girls cried, her body appearing by your side. You hadn’t even noticed her moving, “thank you so much!” you just nodded, handing her back her phone and crossing your arms, eyes narrowing at Hawks.

“If that’s all, ladies, we best be ordering,” they nodded frantically at Hawks’ words, sharply bowing and spouting their thanks to the two of you countless times. They left the Starbucks, but even outside you could still hear them fawning over the picture. He faced you with a grin, but you couldn’t muster up a smile.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m your personal photographer,” you sneered. He pouted, looking genuinely disappointed for a second. “What, you don’t wanna be mine?” “Not in the slightest.”

“What will be your order, Miss?” the barista had directed the question at you, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. You weren’t surprised, but a small swell of annoyance grew in your mind.

“Can I have a mocha with a double shot of expresso?” Hawks chuckled.

“Might as well have an expresso, you know. You’re basically just taking a shot of caffeine,” you shrugged.

“It’s my favourite drink. I like the chocolate taste,” he looked at you with round eyes, a small squeeze in his chest.

“And you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have the same, then,” he didn’t miss the way your eyes darted to him. The barista nodded, tapping for a couple seconds before turning back.

“That’ll be 660 yen,” “I’m paying,” Hawks blurted, even before you could offer. You were silent, a small nod in the affirmative rocking your head. As he handed over the bills, he chuckled. “You know, not that I mind, but usually couples would argue over who’s paying,” you rolled your eyes.

“We’re not a couple,” you watched the barista prepare your drinks, more of a way to occupy yourself rather than a genuine interest, “besides, you’re a lot richer than I am. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m sure you can lose 600 yen and still be good,” he hummed happily.

“No disagreements there.” “Are you two eating in or taking out?” the barista asked, in the midst of securing the plastic lids to the top of the cups. Hawks’ eyes sparkled as he turned to you with an excitement you assumed only appeared in children.

“Hey, we can-” “Take out,” you responded, giving a now deflated Hawks a challenging look, “I will leave you here if I have to.” the blonde grinned. “You wouldn’t. You need me for the pictures,” he sang, voice jovial.

“I don’t care about you that much. The sunflowers are probably less annoying subjects anyway,” oh. With no warning, his heart beat sped up, his wings puffing out slightly. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if you were a little nicer to him, but your insults were like a breath of fresh air. There was no doubt that Hawks loved the limelight, loved the popularity he got, but the relentless ass-kissing got old after a while. You kept him on his toes. Even if he was just constantly chasing after you every time you brushed him off, he didn’t care.

“Put those away, bird brain,” it was then he realised his wings had spread further than he intended, stretched out on either side of him. One was curled right around his face, and he almost felt himself blushing as he pulled them in. It was just animal instincts, he assured himself.

The rest of the journey was filled with a one-sided conversation of him talking and commenting on what was around you, with no response from you except the occasional witty retort or light-hearted jab at his expense, each one making his heart flutter. It wasn’t too long before you had arrived, the chain link fence around the plot stretching high above your head and corroded with orange rust.

Rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers stretched to the horizon, an immense display of summer vitality. The fragrance was potent, a sort of cloying sweetness that you didn’t hate. And just as you were about to enter, you knew you had made a mistake.

“Oh.” Hawks stared at you incredulously, attention switching from your taken aback expression to the sign posted on the gate.

“You didn’t check to see it was open?” you looked up at him, allowing him to survey a tinge of remorse he hadn’t recognised until this point.

“Look, how was I supposed to know? This place has always been open at this time since I was a little kid,” you rubbed your arm, brows furrowed. Hawks sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, the sun’s too low to go anywhere else outside,” he shrugged, “it’s no biggie, I guess. Those other photos weren’t too bad. Hey, now that we’re free, do you want to- what are you doing?” your foot was halfway in the gaps in the gate, the wedges on your heels making it hard to climb.

“I’m not wasting my day for nothing,” you growled, fingers curling around the metal, “get climbing, bird boy,” with a soft sigh, smile gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, Hawks spread his wings.

“I think you’re forgetting something that’ll make this a lot easier,” you felt a cool draft on your back as Hawks flapped his wings, the feeling being quickly replaced by the warmth of his chest as he pulled you in. A foreign emotion coiled in your stomach, but you convinced yourself that it was just the flight.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other supporting your knees, and all Hawks was thinking that such a gentle flight never felt so calming.

Your feet tapped against the soft soil, sinking in to it slightly when the hero placed you down. You nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go over there, I want the sun coming in from the right,” Hawks nodded, content to just follow your orders. You pulled the tripod from your bag and set it up, adjusting it to your liking as Hawks looked around, trying to think of a pose.

Once everything was ready, you turned your attention to Hawks.

“I want to humanise you,” he grinned curiously as you walked over.

“What do you mean by that?” he nearly gasped when you grabbed his chin, angling his face to the side and slightly up, towards the sun. You took a step closer, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip, hands trembling as you tugged slightly, trying to mess it up a little.

“All the photos I’ve seen on you always put a huge emphasis on either your wings or your hero status, and I don’t really see why,” you mumbled, placing one hand on his jawline while the other fixed his hair to your liking, letting a few strands fall in front of his eyes, “I think that just creates a divide. If they wanted you to seem angelic they should play that up, not just have it the norm,” you huffed, “anyway, I wanna put the emphasis on you and not your wings. So ideally if you could tuck them behind your back that would be wonderful,”

Hawks nodded, disappointment filling him as you stepped away. He made sure not to move as he awkwardly folded his wings over each other and pulled them in, glancing at you with a look of apprehension. You just nodded in approval, leaning down to your camera.

You took plenty of shots, allowing him plenty more opportunities to feel your hands on him (and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it).

“Hey, why were you so late today?” Hawks dared to question while you were analysing your photos. You were perched on a bench, appreciating your work. The late sun cast a golden sheen on his skin, the spattering of glimmering rays highlighting his face in all the right places.

“I was sleeping,” you responded, deleting an out of focus shot. His eyes narrowed.

“What?” “Just as it sounds. Figured if they were gonna make me work so I could only have three hours of sleep a night it was gonna be on their time, not mine,” he frowned, taking a seat next to you.

“They shouldn’t work you that hard,” you shrugged with a hollow laugh, blank gaze in your eyes.

“What am I gonna do? Have them fire me? As much as I hate this job it’s the only thing that pays for my coffee in the morning,” he was silent as you stood up, stretching your arms behind your bag before tucking everything back in your bag.

“Did you want to be a photographer?” he questioned, only to be met with a forlorn smile.

“Maybe at one point.” the two of you lapsed into silence before you sighed.

“Well, I’ve gotta submit these to Mizuki, and I’m sure you need-” Hawks caught your wrist, spinning you back around.

In the glow of the sunset, you looked almost ethereal. Your eyes gleamed, and cheeks warmed in the orange flare. Sunflowers framed your form, and the words caught in his throat, nearly stopping him from saying anything at all.

“Come work for me.” he blurted. You snorted.

“No.” all he could do was smile as you hopped back over the fence, not waiting up for him.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

232 notes · View notes

missymallow · 3 years

Text

Drarry: Crush 2.0 (4)

Part [1] [2] [3]

——[dub!con?]——

"Well, I think we’re done for today!" announced Draco, pulling his sweaty hand away from Potter's clutch.

They were sitting on the floor, coffee table as their desk, facing each other. The hand-holding method seemed to work on Potter, much to his amusement. They have been holding hands the entire session, with Potter's thumb caressing his knuckles back and forth. Interestingly, Draco didn't mind the gesture. In fact, he found it rather calming, and Potter managed to pay attention throughout their session, so Draco counted it as a win.

He began to pack his tutoring devices, stuffing it into his bag and stood up, looking at Potter's disbelief face expectantly.

"Wait, that's it?" asked Potter incredulously, moving up to his feet.

Draco nodded, a bit confused with Potter's reaction. "Our time is up, Potter. Don't you have practice?"

"No?” pointed Potter out, while gesturing to his surroundings, “Why do you think we are at my house?"

Draco titled his head, "Sufficiency?"

"No!" exclaimed Potter, "I want to spend time with you!"

"Willingly?" asked Draco, eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, yes!"

"Oh," said Draco, eloquently. He regarded Potter's words with perplexity. No one had a mind to spend their time with him except for tutoring sessions. The idea seemed intriguing to him, as he weirdly felt excited that Potter wanted to hang out with him. It was unfortunate that he needed to head home, however.

"It seems like a lovely idea, Potter." he began cautiously. "Unfortunately, I had to—what are you doing?" He stepped backwards when Potter suddenly moved forward in a predatory step, full of purpose.

"Stop right there!" ordered Draco, pointing a finger at Potter who doesn't even seem wanting to stop. Instead, he fastened his pace making Draco hastily move backwards blindly until his back collided with a wall.

"Potter," warned Draco, when the other kept walking forwards until he stopped in front of Draco with an arm away.

"Tell me why you can't spend your time with me." demanded Potter.

"I have to head home, Potter." replied Draco. "I have some chores to be done as soon as possible, or else my bint of a housemate will amend my possessions."

"Chores can wait," said Potter, stepping closer.

"Not all of us have maids to do our chores, Potter." huffed Draco. "So, it can't wait. I have another session in three hours, and another in six, so I'm running out of time."

"Cancel your sessions." a step closer.

"I can't, Potter," sighed Draco. "The school paid me for these sessions."

"When are you free, then?" a step closer.

"When I'm done with my sessions," shrugged Draco. "Late in the evening usually."

"I don't like it." frowned Potter.

"Well," Draco put a hand on Potter's stomach when the boy stepped closer, feet touching. His heart decidedly felt weird at their proximity. "Thank God you're not the one who's going to spend their time tutoring people, then."

"And before you want to say anything," Draco raised a finger when Potter began to open his mouth. "I like being busy, helping others with their studies."

"I'll keep you busy." growled Potter, "If that's what you want."

"Helping others too?"

"None of them are my concerns," said Potter, moved even closer that he was crowding Draco. He raised a hand and put them next to Draco’s head, another went to sneak around his waist. He pulled Draco towards him. "You are."

"You're getting too handsy, Potter." Glared Draco, in contrast to his fast beating heart. He could feel Potter's warmth pressed on his body. "Hands off my person."

"Cancel your sessions, first.”

"Oh, very funny." scoffed Draco. "Tell that to the principal," he joked.

"I will." Answered Potter, determined.

"He'll listen to you?" mocked Draco, raising a challenging brow.

"Why not?" said Potter with a tilt of his lips. "How hard can it be to persuade the principal?"

"I would like to see you try." dared Draco.

"And what do I get out of it?" asked Potter, eyes with determination.

"Spending your time with me, as bizarre as it sounds. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Potter's eyes gleamed. "Holding hands and kisses too?"

Confident that Potter didn't have the balls to negotiate with the principal about the cancellation of his tutoring sessions, he decided to humour the other boy. "Why not, it seems only fair to me since you're willing to do such a favour."

Honestly, he was only taking the piss. There was no need to inform the principal for tutor session cancellation. The tutors only need to inform the authorities, state their reason for doing so and they need to replace the session after. Draco has never had the intention to cancel a session before, so he had never done so.

He was greatly surprised however, to see Potter's eyes shone with mischief, as if he was the one who was challenging Draco.

"Very well," said Potter, squeezing his waist before he let him go and went to his night stand, retrieving his phone. He gave Draco a sly grin, began typing through his phone and held it to his ear. He winked at Draco, and began talking as he walked to stand far away from Draco that he couldn't hear a word of the conversation.

Draco watched, feeling a little bit wrong footed to see Potter talked through the phone rather confidently. He couldn't be really talking to the principal, could he?

He stood up straighter when Potter made his way towards him, a sly grin decorating his face. He went straight to Draco’s personal space, handing him the phone.

"The principal would like to talk to you," said Potter with a smirk.

Stupefied in disbelief, Draco took the phone, and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Young Malfoy!" came the principal—Professor Lupin's voice through the speaker.

"Professor Lupin?" asked Draco, blinking his eyes widely. Mother of Holy, it was really Professor Lupin!

"I was informed that you're not feeling well?"

"I—" Draco dragged his eyes to Potter, who was now grinning with smugness, and already had his hands wrapped around him in a hug, moving closer to bury his nose into his jaw.

"Young Potter has explained to me that you're feeling rather unwell and unfit to conduct further sessions today. You don't have to worry about those authorities, I'll inform them myself. You may contact the students if you want to cancel the class." said Professor Lupin, voice kind and understanding.

"I—uh," he wanted to say something, he really was, but how can he when Potter already had his lips wandering to his necks?

"You sound rather shaky, young Malfoy" Professor Lupin' voice was filled with concern. "You should ask young Potter to send you home."

"I—" Draco blinked, eyes searching for Potter who was mouthing 'You promised' to him in a threatening face and bent down to bite Draco’s ear. He squeaked.

"Young Malfoy, are you okay?"

Oh, well. What harm could it be to cancel one day sessions?

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'll inform the students that I am unfit for tutoring sessions today." said Draco then, closing his eyes as he felt a bit unsettled. He never canceled his sessions before. This was going to be his first. He suddenly felt that someone might come out of nowhere and yell at him for his incompetence.

A drop of kiss under his ear chased his worry away. He peeled his eyes open to see Potter smile reassuringly at him. 'You'll be fine." the other boy mouthed.

"Taking care of your health is a priority. Get well soon, young Malfoy. You have worked hard, I am proud of you."

Draco smiled when he heard those words, "Thank you, Professor. Thank you for being understanding."

They exchanged a few words before bidding each other goodbyes, leaving him to stare at the phone incredulously. He couldn't believe he had just skipped a tutor session. It felt a bit bizarre. Weird.

A warm press of lips against his skin woke him up from his stupor. “Don’t worry, you’re fine.”

“I’ve never done this before.” Confessed Draco.

“It’s okay,” said Potter, humming gently against his skin. “We’ll take our time. We don’t have to do anything today.”

“What are you talking about?” Asked Draco breathily, involuntarily tilting his head to the side. His heart somehow felt like they were going to jump out of his body. His skin felt hot.

“What are you talking about?” Countered Potter, lips wandered down to his collarbone.

“I’m talking about cancelling my sessions.”

“Ah,” chuckled Potter. “Here I thought you were talking about something else.”

“Something else?” Draco took all his might to push Potter away, trying to search for the other boy’s eyes. Holy, they looked like deep forest. Potter gazed down at him with soft eyes, the corner of his lips titled up forming a small smile.

“Never mind that,” said Potter, pulling him closer. “Can I touch you?”

“You already are, Potter.”

Potter laughed, dropping his head onto Draco’s shoulder. “I guess I’m content touching you like this for now.”

Draco blinked, slightly confused. “How exactly do you want to touch me?”

“You don’t have to know for now.” Said Potter, lifting his head up and stared down at him with a soft expression. “I am glad that you have never let anyone touch you like this.”

“I’ll have you know, Potter,” said Draco, not understanding the meaning behind Potter’s words. However, he decided to humour him. Feeling suddenly brave, he lifted both of his hands to wrap them around Potter’s shoulder. “You should feel lucky that I have permitted you to put your hands on me.”

Potter beamed, which turned into mischief as he suddenly said, “Hold me tight, and try not to fall.”

“Try not—ah!” shrieked Draco, grasping for Potter’s shoulder as the other boy crouched down to lift him up by his thighs. “What are you doing, you brute!”

“Put your legs around me.”

“Excuse me—”

“I’m going to move now.”

He shrieked again when he felt Potter moved, and he immediately held on for his dear life as he quickly wrapped his legs around Potter’s waist, hands gripping the muscled shoulder tightly. “Careful, you dolt! I’m going to fall!”

He took a chance to tug on the boy’s horrendous hair when Potter only laughed delightfully, and sniggered when Potter grunt in pain. He yelped when Potter took revenge by slapping his arse.

“I’m going to put you down now.”

Draco wanted to ask, put me down where? But his body suddenly collided with the soft mattress, and he gasped when Potter climbed in, manoeuvring his person until they laid at the centre of the huge bed, with Potter settling himself in between his legs.

Draco blinked, slightly confused by the situation.

“What are we doing?”

Potter, the imbecile, only hummed, busying himself by trying to find a comfortable position to settle down. His hands sneaked around his body, his head laying on top of his chest, eyes closed. “We’re resting.”

“You’re squishing me.”

“I like it like this.”

“This is a very bizarre way to have a rest, Potter.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Draco frowned, taking his time to answer. He did not, in fact, feel uncomfortable. The weight of Potter’s body on top of his felt grounding, somehow. There was something about having the heavy weight crushing down his person. He never felt something like before, as if having something to anchor him down, making him feel relaxed. It wasn’t helping that Potter smelt nice too.

“Draco?”

“No- I’m, I’m comfortable.”

“I’m glad, let’s take a nap. You need them.”

Draco, against all odds, felt his eyes go heavy and who was he to deny a nap?

Draco was dreaming.

There were hands—calloused hands, caressing the skin underneath his shirt, making him feel goosebumps all over his sensitive body. There were hot breaths, kissing his neck with mischief and there was something wet touching the skin beneath his earlobe.

It made his breath turn heavy.

Draco sighed, and felt his body were making a response.

There was something soft, tickling his jaw and his chin, and he could feel the hands wander up to his nipples—his sensitive nipples. He had never been touched like this before, and he was somehow aware that he was making some sort of sound.

“Hm, you smell so good. You respond to me very well, Draco.”

He gasped when he felt a jolt of pleasure on his lower region, calloused fingers caressing his nipples playfully and he immediately opened his eyes.

He was not dreaming.

Potter’s mop of hair was the first thing he saw, and the breeze of air licking his body noting that his shirt had ridden up to his chest. He couldn’t help the heavy sigh that was escaping his mouth, and stared with wide eyes as Potter’s head lowered down, facing down his chest and when the pink wet muscle fell flat onto one of his nipples, he shrieked in panic.

“Potter!”

He took a huge grasp of Potter’s hair and tugged it away from his person, ignoring the way that the boy screamed in pain, and lifted his leg to kick the boy away until he fell on the bed with a loud thud.

“How dare you!” Shouted Draco, scrambling on his knees and promptly yanked down his shirt.

He heard Potter groan, and he immediately glared at him when he emerged from the floor.

“Draco, you wound me!”

“You molested me in my sleep!”

“I was not!” Said Potter, lips incredulously turned into a huge pout. “I was dreaming!”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” warned Draco, eyes blazing. “How dare you put your mouth on me!” His hand unconsciously went to rub one on his nipples, the one that Potter had personally molested with his stupid tongue. It still felt sensitive under his touch.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Huffed Potter, crossing his arms in a sulky manner. “I couldn’t help it!”

“You couldn’t help it?”

“I mean, have you seen yourself?” Countered Potter, throwing him an accused look. As if it was his fault!

“How dare you! Without my consent no less!”

Potter perked up at that. “You would give me your consent if I asked?”

Draco growled. Angry, he stomped down the bed, reaching out to Potter who was watching him with an alarmed face. Potter had the audacity to scramble back, crawling backwards to be away from Draco.

Draco jumped to him, kneeing Potter’s stomach in the process making the boy howled in pain. Draco ignored those cries coming from Potter, as he proceeded to grab him by the shoulder and sink his teeth down Potter’s right shoulder and bite. Hard.

“Argh!”

He felt Potter’s hand on his shoulder, trying to pry him away but Draco held his ground.

“Draco, it hurts! Let me go!”

They struggled like that; one biting, while the other one trying his best to make him stop. Potter cries echoed around the room, tapping Draco’s shoulder repeatedly in surrender.

Draco let go after biting his heart out, and sat back, watching with pure satisfaction as Potter curled around his shoulder, whimpering like a wounded puppy.

“Next time, Potter,” began Draco. “It would be polite to ask for someone’s consent.”

“Ugh,” sobbed Potter. “I hate you.”

Draco smacked him where it hurts.

—

Cheers! @textrovert-01 @teenage-chaos @kristinapoldmaa @eaasysarcasm @pandaburr024 @irwinxbmth

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #draco x harry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #harry x draco #harry/draco #drarry squad #drarry fluff #teenromance #high school au #muggle!au #hp fanfic #gay fanfiction #drarry love

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disloopy · 4 years

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞

i wanted to write a college au but i was also horny so this came into existence.

tendou satori

word count: 6199

genre: smut but with a plot??

It was hard to study with your parents constantly bickering in the living room downstairs. Ever since you moved back in with them, you've found it hard to concentrate on virtually anything besides their frequent, yet petty, arguments. Sometimes you'd stay at college late into the evenings under the guise of classes and assignments but really you just hated being around them. The stress of school was already a mounting threat without the emotional toll of your parents' nearly shattered relationship.

Scraping your chair back as you stood up, you decided you'd had enough. You shoved your textbooks, notebooks, and some random clothing articles from the top of your drawer into a bag and ran down the stairs. Your mother twisted her body around to face you from the couch, an eyebrow raised.

"Where are you going, young lady?"

You didn't look at her in the process of yanking on your shoes. "I'm going to Sam's house or am I not even allowed to visit her without you breathing down my neck?" you asked sharply, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You were fed up. "I'm twenty and under no obligation to listen to the two of you arguing about whatever movie you want to watch just because you don't have the cajones to discuss the real issue!"

With finality, you slammed the door shut behind you and hopped onto your bike, pedaling as fast as legally possible out of the neighborhood. You always knew that the main reason your parents had urged you to move back in with them was to fill the empty void their failed marriage left in the house. At first, even you were convinced that your presence would revitalize their marriage and they'd remember why they loved each other from the start.

However, their own child wasn't enough to give them a reason to put aside their differences and love each other for what they were - a family; a family, you knew, should be willing to sacrifice a part of their individual lives for each other, that's what it meant to be married.

But your parents weren't even willing to confront the problem -- not being in love with each other anymore -- much less work it out. At your age, you were aware of the fact that love wasn't all a marriage needed, there was responsibility and sacrifice and with a little understanding, the love could be rekindled, not just once but multiple times throughout the life spent together. The last thing you'd want was for them to separate and you were quite certain that with a little communication this hellish nightmare could be put past them. They were immature, you concluded. Your parents wanted to ignore it altogether, which would only leave them stumped at this obstacle, growing angrier with each bland dinner and mismatched grocery.

You couldn't take it anymore. Stopping your bike at a nearby convenience store to pick up a few snacks, you texted your boyfriend, Tendo. He was usually around, and usually free -- plus, he lived in a dorm all by himself. It was the perfect escape from your exhausting household. Without waiting for a reply, you journeyed across a few streets to get to the college residence and parked your bike anywhere. It wasn't worth enough to get stolen and even if some desperate thief decided to have some fun, it would only serve as an excuse for your parents to finally get you a car.

After the long and silent elevator ride which seemed to compress you on all sides, you arrive at the seventh floor and felt your shoulders relax almost immediately. You'd been here so many times it was like a second home to you. Tendo's place always gave you the relief you wanted after a tiresome day of school, or your parents, or both.

Struggling to keep the strap of your heavy bag filled with books, clothes, and food on your shoulder, you lightly knocked on the front door. There were sounds of incomprehensible yelling and laughter coming from inside which you thought was strange but not enough to question it.

When there was no answer and you were fed up with waiting, you decided to try the knob which was surprisingly unlocked. So, you entered the house and called out loudly, "Tendo? It's Y/N". Not even a step later, a strong scent of weed hit your nose directly and you winced.

"Y/N?" said a voice, followed by Tendo rolling back in a computer chair, tugging his headset to his neck with the hand that wasn't latched onto the controller, his eyes wide in pleasant surprise.

"Hey," you said quietly, smiling at the sight of him. "I texted you . . ."

"Oh, sorry. I was in a game so I didn't check my phone," Tendo murmured, throwing a distracted glance at his phone on the couch before immediately returning his attention to the screen, his headset back on his ears. "I SAID COVER ME!"

"He's been yelling all match," someone said and you startled, looking back at the couch to see one of Tendo's friends, Semi, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a hoodie covering most of his head and a bong tucked between his thighs. It was unusual for Tendo to have friends over. Even at school, he rarely sat with a large group of friends for long. On weekends, it was mostly just you and him when it could be.

"I swear I'm playing with 11 year olds," Tendo remarked as the screen flashed red, signaling his team's failure. He spun around in his chair and glanced between you and Semi. "Sit down, Y/N, what the fuck. Semi got kicked out of his parents house so he's gonna be here for a while."

You widened your eyes. "You got kicked out?"

The ashy-blonde haired boy nodded, seeming casual as he fiddled with the bong. "They caught me smoking in the basement and said they didn't want me back till I quit," he explained with a shrug. "I miss my drum set but I'd rather be free to smoke, if I'm being honest."

Tendo shook his head, amused. "Get a fucking job, Semi -- then you can pay for half of this place and we can live together."

"Really?" Semi's eyes lit up and he seemed attentive for the first time that night. "I totally should, huh? I can work at some government institute, you know? They'll see that I'm smart since I major in political science . . ."

"Tendo, can I get in the shower?" you asked and Tendo nodded of course. As you were about to disappear down the hall before turning around and feeling blush creep onto your cheeks when Tendo gave you a questioning look. "Um . . . I also . . . Wanted to stay here for a bit. My parents are just really . . ."

"You can!" Tendo said with an enthusiasm that made your heart jump with pleasure. "It'll be fun with the three of us. I'm sorry about your parents though."

The shower was warm and almost therapeutic with the muffled sounds of Tendo's frustration with his team and Semi teasing him about it. You even sat down on the porcelain for a bit, the soothing water sprinkling down on your bare body. When you had finally decided to come out, you found that Semi was eating the snacks you'd brought along with you. Although you were initially doubtful of him staying over with you and Tendo, you quickly grew more open about it. He was normally quiet and serious, but the weed seemed to open him up to being actually friendly and talkative, not failing to make you laugh several times that evening.

"Yo, if you make my girl laugh that much I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," Tendo said, throwing a cheeto at Semi's head.

You eventually fell asleep on the couch, Tendo and Semi's voice almost serving as a lullaby. You'd rather hear their weed-inspired symposium in your sleepy stupors than the sound of your parents arguing. Some time that night, unknown to the dizzy you, Tendo had hauled you into his arms and transferred you to the warm security of his bed, wrapping his covers around you, and then wrapping his arms around you.

The next morning, Semi was already gone for an 8am class. Despite sharing Tendo's major, he had registered very late and got the worst schedule a student could ask for. You and Tendo, however, were able to fool around in the bathroom (no, not like that. Tendo spit toothpaste on you), and eat lazy bowls of cereal before heading out, walking under the warm morning sun to get to campus.

When you'd arrived at your own class, Tendo let you know he'd wait for you at the college center after class. You checked your phone while the professor was setting up his stuff. Disappointment settled in your chest at the realization that your parents hadn't bothered to check up on you. You hadn't given them the heads-up that you would be staying over at "Sam's" house and although you declared that you weren't under their jurisdiction, you half-expected a "should we wait up for you?" text from either parent.

You tried to push your dejectedness and self-pity in order to pay attention to your lecture. The anger formed into a kind of resistance, telling you to stay as contactless from them as possible, waiting for one of them to care about your absence, or at least notice.

After class, you stopped by the vending machine to buy Tendo and yourself two bottles of juice before walking with your head down to the college center. You didn't want to see any of your friends or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be alone . . . With Tendo. He knew how to give you the reassurance and comfort you needed without uttering a single word. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of the effect he had on you. Did he know how his mere presence could reduce your anxiety? The man was like a remedy.

You spotted Tendo slumped on one of the couches, thumbs tapping away on his phone and you were almost certain he was engaged in a game of COD mobile. Then he seemed to notice you and he lifted his bright red-haired head up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Damn bay-bee!" Tendo whistled and you rolled your eyes as an instant reaction to his typical attention-drawing behaviour. "Hot girl alert," he announced, grinning at you.

"Shut up!" you yelled, chucking a juice bottle at him, which he caught with extraneous ease. You would've been surprised if you weren't already familiar with the fact that he, along with Semi, were on the volleyball team of a prestigious high school. He never failed to remind you and always talked about a mysterious "best friend" named Ushijima who he strongly believed would be famous one day.

Grateful that no one was staring at you two anymore, you collapsed next to Tendo, resting your head on his shoulder. He had produced his phone once again and you realized he had been texting Semi. You didn't want to intrude on his messages but you couldn't help catch parts of the conversation. He was going out drinking with Semi later because they had both received excellent grades on one of their tests. This also didn't come as a surprise because although you've never actually seen Tendo studying, he always did well on his tests.

Tendo turned to you. "You can go ahead back to my place," he suggested, twirling his dorm keys around his finger as he handed them to you. You gave him a small smile when he left you with a parting kiss on the lips as you separated for your next class.

You didn't see him again before leaving campus to return to Tendo's house. As you walked, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Why hadn't Tendo ask you to join him? You shook your head, why were you even thinking of such a thing when you knew you hated drinking? But some uncomfortable tug in your chest left you questioning whether Tendo even wanted you at his place. Maybe he had accepted to be polite, or because he felt sorry for you . . . or because he didn't want to say no to you in front of Semi.

The biting thoughts bounced around your head, a reminder that Tendo loved you popping up every now and then to shoot those thoughts into a corner but not doing much to quell your worries.

You spent your evening studying, getting excited only at the occasional text from Tendo, making sure you got home fine, or that you knew you could eat anything in his fridge, or sleep in his bed if you were tired, or play on his PlayStation if you were bored. You did neither of those things, not touching a single thing in his kitchen even while your poor stomach cried with hungry grumbles.

You felt sick to your stomach, opting to switch on the television for background noise as you hugged your knees on the couch. There was an aching fear building up inside of you, fear that you were as unwanted to your boyfriend as you were to your own parents. You knew you shouldn't have been insecure, he'd always been there for you and never gave you a reason to doubt him.

But it had been quite a while since he'd last told that he loved you, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. A lot could change within a person in that sort of time. And the last time the two of you had sex or even really made out was several months ago before you moved in with your parents. You could blame that on the chaos of school, both of you being in your second-years with exams and pressure to find jobs keeping your heads under water.

Nonetheless, the fear of Tendo falling out of love with you the same way your father fell out of love with your mother still existed and was still very real. You could always untangle this very confusing frustration with Tendo, he'd never shied away from important conversations. However, despite the many insecurities he'd helped you through, this just wasn't one you wanted him to hear.

And maybe you were like your parents in that way . . .

You dropped your head into your lap, feeling the burn of tears in your eyes, your chest tightening under the pressure of the worries you knew had no foundations but still pushed their way into your system. Eventually, your eyes had drooped and your brain was shifting in and out of focus with the screen before you.

Before you could really fall asleep though, you heard the sound of the door opening and Tendo's voice informing you of his presence. You hummed in response and Tendo furrowed his brows at you, jumping in next to you on the couch. You could tell he was still a little delirious from drinking but not enough to turn you away from him, as you usually did when he got completely wasted.

"Y/N, I went to the corner store on the way back and got you the cake you said you really liked," Tendo mumbled, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer. You wanted the cake, sure, but to be truthful, you wanted him more than anything.

"I just wanna fuck," you blurted out and Tendo's head instantly snapped up to look at you, a lazy grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

"Uh? You wanna what?"

You blushed, tugging your knees to your chest but Tendo's hands were already on them, pulling them apart. "I said I wanna fuck," you murmur.

"That's right, baby," said Tendo, settling himself between your thighs as he licked his lips. "I knew what you said, I wanted to hear you say it again."

"I got it, stupid," you told him, curling your fingers around the shoulders of Tendo's shirt and bringing his chest to yours before connecting your lips. The effect was immediate. You simultaneously relaxed and tensed up underneath the weight of his body, completely winded by the effortlessness with which his tongue moved past your lips and pressed to your own.

"You're right, I deserve this," Tendo breathed against your lips, a hand going to your thigh and guiding your leg around his waist. You hadn't said that but didn't care enough to point it out. "I can't call it a treat without wrecking this pretty body of yours." Your heart fluttered with his words and you watched him trail his lips down your chin, jaw, and neck toward the now exposed skin of your chest as he hooked a finger over the collar of your sweater and forced it down.

You shut your eyes, drowning in the anxious ecstasy of what was to come, the outcome of all this; him inside of you, filling you up, and fighting off all your worries with each sway of his hips against yours.

His teeth grazed against your skin and you pressed your lips together, knowing it was going to be followed by a bite and it did. Tendo bit and tugged at your sensitive skin, earning a pained gasp from your lips before smoothing over the sting with his tongue. It hurt but in that good way you never wanted it to stop, not until every inch of your body was covered in marks from him and only him.

Tendo had always liked to take his time. Even now, with you practically squirming and wordlessly begging for him. You could tell by the way he rubbed the seam of his jeans right against the very spot you craved him most, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your hips snap up against his, which caused you both to moan (Tendo's turned into choked laughter). He usually opted to wear sweatpants or, at best, trousers, but the roughness of his jeans really did amplify the feeling and although it made you throb almost everywhere, you were starting to get impatient.

"Jinx," Tendo groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck as your fingernails raked through his messy hair.

"Shut up, Tendo, just . . . Fuck . . . Get inside already," you said between shallow breaths. Tendo was already doing that, wedging a hand between both your bodies to unbutton his jeans. But between making jokes of your desperation and dry-humping you right on his couch, Tendo (and you) failed to realize that you had company.

The sound of the door swinging open almost completely shattered your preoccupation with each other. Tendo dragged himself off you and onto his knees while you propped yourself up, slightly embarrassed but more so disappointed when Semi walked into the living room, squinting at the two of you.

"Oh," he said, realizing what he had interrupted with a nod. High Semi was a lot different than this not-very-drunk or just-sober-enough Semi, who was stoic and didn't laugh the awkwardness off like you expected. "S-sorry about that," he stuttered and made to head towards his own room.

Tendo turned back to you with a smile that told you he didn't mind continuing what you two had already started. He didn't mind . . . But that probably didn't mean he wanted to. Neither did you with Semi in the next room. The heavy feeling from earlier took residence in your stomach once more, unwarranted and so quick you felt tears spring to your eyes.

Pushing Tendo off, you ran to his room in order to cry without his prying eyes, kind as they were. But you knew you wouldn't have the room for very long. The five minutes you really were alone, you were quite sure Tendo was trying to give you space or wonder what he'd done wrong. Then the door opened and he stepped in and you buried your head in your hands.

"Y/N, what the fuck is up with you?" He asked, but in a gentle tone before you felt his hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. "Why are you crying, hm? Look at me." Tendo tugged on your forearm and practically forced your head up. You stared at him through tear-blurry vision.

"Why didn't you invite me to come with you and Semi?" You stuttered dumbly and Tendo blinked in surprise.

"I-I didn't think you'd want to come," he answered with a shrug and a look of guilt marred the fond carelessness of his face. "Usually you say no . . . I'm sorry, I should've asked."

You shook your head quickly and realized you were doing exactly what you hated about your parents: avoiding the problem. But how could you not avoid the problem when the problem was questioning his love for you? Maybe you were the immature one, thinking talking about those things was so simple. It wasn't.

So you just said, "Sorry, I've been having a rough week . . . "

Tendo nodded, understanding. "Do you want Semi out of here?"

"W-What? No, no, no," you said quickly, wiping your wet eyes. "He needs somewhere to stay, I-I don't mind. It's mostly just . . . " you braced yourself to finally voice your fear out loud. Tendo's eyes on you, full of concern and attention. "I'm sick of my parents," you ended up saying and then cringed with your whole body.

"They fighting again?" Tendo asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and maneuvering the two of you against the bed frame to lean back. You leaned into his chest and relaxed in the comforting scent of him.

"They haven't checked up on me," you murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed for needing your parents attention this much. Tendo just stroked his fingers through your hair, intently listening. "I didn't tell them I'd be away from home and I usually never am. But they haven't even texted me to ask. I just feel like I'm not wanted there."

"They're probably just lost in their own issues to even think about dealing with you," Tendo said and he seemed to have the simplest answers to the complicated worries in your heart. "Stay here with me, just until they really get worried. Besides you're wanted here all the time."

You lifted your head and smiled. "Thanks Tendo, I-I love you," you mumbled shyly and Tendo grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"I love you too," he replied without hesitating. The two of you soon fell asleep, Tendo changing out of his jeans first and yelling at you to get in your pajamas, before throwing a shirt at your head. You were too tired to get up now and Tendo knew that but it didn't stop him from trying. He gave up shortly and muttered something about you being a stubborn little bitch before sinking into the mattress next to you and shutting off the lights.

The next week flew by just like that. You were getting quite used to living with Tendo and he seemed to be happy with that. Most days were just busy with school and assignments, the slower days were spent in wondering if Semi would be home now or then to gauge how long the two of you had alone. But in that worry itself, you and Tendo would miss the opportunity Semi seemed to have intentionally been giving you each time. Dinners were nice since the three of you got along very well. Tendo would usually make the jokes, vulgar or downright shocking, causing you to almost choke up your food and Semi to roll his eyes yet smirk all the same.

Semi had found a job as a male receptionist at some package delivering company, which was a grounds for all three of you to celebrate. Tendo explained that they probably only wanted Semi because he was eye-candy for anyone entering the building. You agreed that Semi was very pretty and Tendo pouted at you.

Friday night, the bong was reintroduced and you surrendered to the thought of really forgetting all your stress and just getting high. Which you did. And it was really relieving. So the next day, you decided it couldn't hurt to have another session. Semi had gone off to work and he wouldn't be back till very late, which gave you and Tendo time to smoke a little and fuck a lot.

But neither of you were really in the mood that evening and you could tell by the lack of foreplay Tendo usually invested in before putting it inside. He was out of focus and so were you, lying in his bed and occasionally moaning when he hit the right spot.

And when he'd pulled out so quick, you couldn't help lifting your head in confusion. "T-Tendo, what—" but the question was cut off with warm liquid spraying over your bare chest and splashing onto your mouth, droplets almost hitting your eyes before you shut them.

"Ah shit!" Tendo gasped, giggling breathlessly. "I'm s-sorry about that. I just wanted to cum on your tits."

"I'm gonna get pink-eye!" You complained, wiping your eyes and mouth with the back of your hand.

"Don't be dramatic," he said dismissively, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the closet. You blinked, heavy breaths living your lips and slightly disoriented. But Tendo had really just . . . Done that, without bothering to ask if you'd finished (he never really asked because it was quite obvious you had every time, but not tonight).

Before the worthlessness could settle in, a towel was thrown directly at your face and now you were just . . . Really angry. Your own boyfriend seemed to have used you and discarded you, you thought, furiously wiping yourself down with the towel and watching Tendo from the corner of your eye light up a joint and take a deep drag from it.

You slipped your shirt back over your bare chest and stared down at your lap as he breathed out, smoke filling the air and your nose. You just wanted to turn around and sleep.

"Y/N," said Tendo, prompting you to glance up at him. You shifted your gaze to him and saw that he was dangling a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a collar with a chain attached to it in another. Tendo grinned lazily, the joint hanging from his lips as he tossed both on the bed, you gazing at them in wonder.

"Do you wanna try these?" He asked, setting the joint aside and crawling onto the bed. "I ordered them a while ago, they're cheap as fuck but if we like them — if you like them — we can get something proper."

You licked your lips, excitement rising in your stomach. "I . . . Um . . . Yes! I'd like to try . . ."

"That's my girl," said Tendo eagerly, clicking the collar around your neck with a sly smile. "You look pretty fucking hot, if I'm being honest." He turned your head to the side so you could see yourself in the mirror. You couldn't help but agree with your boyfriend. The presence of the collar on your throat did wonderful things to your conscious.

Then there was a rough tug on the chain, squeezing the collar around your neck, and a whimper tumbled past your lips as Tendo forced you to face him. Tendo's eyes widened in wicked surprise as he stared at you and felt yourself blushing.

"This chain comes in handy then, I bet," he muttered with a smile.

Once your shirt was off and the handcuffs were locked around your wrists, both behind your back, Tendo pushed you to the ground in front of him and swung his feet off the bed. He reached one of his large hands towards you, fingers immediately tangling in your hair as you made quick work of him. The constant yanking on your hair and the choked grunts Tendo made was really adding to the rush of it all. Especially when he pushed your head down and forced himself deeper into your throat.

"Take all of my cock," he hissed out the order, the chain of your collar wrapped around his free hand, tugging at it every now and then when he wanted you to look at him. You accepted every praise that followed, tears forming at the edge of your vision with each thrust. "You look so pretty like this, baby. God, I love face-fucking you . . . You're so good . . . You're the best."

After he'd shuddered and his cock twitched, sending a warm stream of cum down your throat, Tendo didn't stop there. He pulled the chain up, your head rising with it as the collar squeezed your neck. "Let me see," he whispered, gently gripping your jaw as you opened your mouth, feeling the liquid drip down your chin. "Good girl. Now swallow." The instruction was followed by the harsh slap of his palm against your ass, prompting you to obey.

"Ah!" you cried out, biting your lip. "Y-Yes, sir."

Tendo smirked and yanked the chain again, bringing your lips down upon his and the saltiness from earlier was wiped away as he sucked on your lips, grasping your hips and sitting you down on top of him where you could feel his cock pressing right against your entrance.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Tendo groaned as you moved your hips against him, your head buried in his neck along with your lips grazing his warm skin. Your wrists were sore and aching and all you wanted was to latch onto him but Tendo didn't seem to want to take them off just yet.

"Fuck me," you whispered against his ear.

Tendo didn't waste time, moving back so he was lying down on the bed, shirt off and you, on top of him, wanted to touch the tanned skin of his bare chest so bad. He watched your every moment with a dizzying intrigue, allowing you to fuck yourself on his cock while his fingers pressed bruises into your hips.

"Just like that, Y/N," he grunted through a clenched jaw, pushing you all the way down as he lifted his own hips and thrust up into you.

"Tendo!" You gasped, your head falling back, eyes shut tightly as the pain and pleasure shot up your body, releasing breathless moans from the base of your throat. "Fuck . . ."

Tendo grinned. "You ride me so well, Y/N . . . Ugh, fuck!" He pulled the chain towards him, swallowing your moan with the careful, wet kisses of his mouth. "You look so hot on top of me." You could feel the tight knots in your stomach slowly unraveling, the new angle doing mind-shattering things to your insides.

"I-I . . . Tendo . . ." You stuttered, blinking rapidly as the feeling overcame you.

Tendo's hands went to your thighs immediately, throwing you off of him and the sudden feeling of emptiness shocked you. "What the fuck?!" You cried, shaking the hair off your face as your wrists were still faithfully behind you.

"Let me fuck that pussy," Tendo muttered, shifting you onto your hands and knees before sinking into you from behind as your head pressed into the pillow beneath you. "You're so tight . . . I love this pussy . . ." Tendo bent over you, till his chest was pressed to your back, his hand still clamped around the chain of your collar, making sure you were being choked how he liked you.

"Moan for me, Y/N . . ." he whispered, lips and teeth clashing against the skin under your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You should've been embarrassed with the sounds leaving your parted mouth but you really couldn't focus on much besides the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.

The mindless euphoria and muffled pain of it all drove every thought out of your head, the uncertainty and unease. You wanted to be as close to Tendo as possible and he wanted to be deep inside you. As your vision blurred and you were so close to completely losing it, Tendo pulled out of you again. Your jaw fell open but he'd flipped you around and frantically uncuffed your now throbbing wrists, tossing the handcuffs to the side, before sliding back into you.

"Fuucckkk . . ." He moaned, eyes fluttering but he tried to keep them open to watch your flushed face, your back arching until your breasts were pressed right up against his chest. The sound of profanities leaving his swelling lips was smothered as he sucked on your neck, your arms finally able to loop around his neck, yanking at his hair as he slipped his fingers between your legs. "C-Cum on my cock . . ." Tendo stuttered.

But you'd begged him to come inside and Tendo had to pull his head back to look at you with surprise. After the painful edging and denial, those words were enough to snap every knot in your stomach completely. Tendo had grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "I wanna see you when you cum," he managed to choke out as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, focused on his gaze and the way it sent goosebumps all over your sweat-glistening body. Tendo had sped up and groaned a string of curse words as he released inside of you, and you had given to defeat, throwing your head back, mouth open in a silent cry before Tendo's hips slowed down and the room was filled with shuddering breaths and occasional whimpers.

"Holy fuck," Tendo whispered, unclipping the collar from around your neck and examining the red and almost bleeding skin before tossing the item to the side. "I'm so sorry . . . Did it hurt?"

"K-Kinda," you squeaked as he kissed your neck softly. Truthfully, you hadn't noticed it then but the pain was coming back to you in short bursts as you trembled underneath Tendo.

"I should've known considering it was like five bucks," he responded, dropping down next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. Tendo seemed surprised by this as you two normally cleaned yourselves up first before cuddling.

"My parents are falling out of love," you blurted out.

Tendo scoffed, pushing your hair out of your face. "I just fucked you like you were a bitch in heat and the first thing you say is 'my parents are falling out of love' . . . What the fuck am I doing?" he murmured, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N."

You licked your lips, trailing your fingers over Tendo's bare chest. "I-I'm scared that . . . That you don't love me anymore either."

"Oh . . . This fucking girl, you can't leave her alone with her thoughts for a second," Tendo teased. "I can tell you this, Y/N; sometimes it doesn't work between people and forcing it will just make it worse."

You nodded, shifting into a seated position so you could look at him properly. Tendo smiled at you, the mere action causing your heart to jump into you throat. "You're right . . . I'll have to hope for the best between my parents."

"That being said," Tendo continued, tucking your hair behind your ear gently. "I fucking love you and I don't plan on stopping so you can get that silly thought out of your head." There was a distant sound of the front door opening and when you'd glanced at the clock, you knew Semi was home. He'd announced his arrival and said,

"Keep fucking if you guys are fucking! I don't wanna ruin your relationship!"

Tendo rolled his eyes and hugged you closer, putting his chin on your shoulder. "You were amazing and I'm sorry about before . . ." You giggled. It seemed sort of trivial now. "You're beautiful by the way," Tendo said and you blushed. "Your face and body but also on the inside . . . and I'm not talking about these sweet insides I just ruined . . ."

"I know," You laughed as Tendo tickled your thigh with his fingertips.

"Y/N," said Tendo suddenly and you glanced at him. "D-Do you want to try something new?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I guess the handcuffs weren't enough, huh? Yeah, let's do something new!" But you weren't expecting Tendo to call for Semi. To your own surprise though, you didn't stop him and even smiled widely when the boy pushed the door open and froze, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Tendo hadn't said anything further but your heart was pounding furiously again, especially when Semi's eyes shifted from Tendo to meet your own. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it.

A second later, he was tugging at his own hoodie, the only two words that left his lips "fuck it" completely forgotten once the door shut and Tendo dimmed the lights.

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #anime smut #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendou smut #smut #semi eita #tendou imagine #tendou drabble #tendou oneshot

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redenzione · 3 years

Text

The Favourite: Esra/Ozan

Been a hot minute since I wrote anything. But these two just won’t quit me. Despite the show doing the utmost to prove these two don’t belong together. Hopefully we have come out of the worst of it and there won’t be any further stupid ‘misunderstandings’ due to an overall lack of communication. What a waste of 10 episodes.

I’m of the belief that these two know how to get hot and heavy. The eye contact the comfortability, the lip biting! That rain kiss where they were all over each other? *Chef’s kiss.*

I know I can do better, but the below is a first entrée after a few years off, so I'll ease myself into it. Any mistakes are my own.

If you like what you read and have requests - feel free to ask, I can’t promise anything quick as this has taken weeks to get out. O.o

Word count: 3500 (approx)

Rated: R16 (slight smut, dirty talk, references to sex)

Based on this quote from the show (loose English translation):

'Esra, don’t. You know perfectly well that that dress is not any ‘regular dress’ ...It has been my favourite...for a long time’

The first time Ozan had seen Esra in that dress he was pretty sure his brain short-circuited.

And she wasn’t even wearing it for him.

He was sitting in the café late at night, Esra’s mother liked to keep a table open for him while he was studying and Esra had come back from her date, cheerful but informing her mother that whoever she had met up with definitely wasn’t ‘the one.’

It wasn’t till she was out of sight and Menekse had hit him on the back of his head that he had managed to come out of his stupor. Having completely missed Esra’s greeting to him and any chance to seem less like a fool to the object of his affections, he had stammered out an apology to Menekse and quickly gathered his things to leave without even offering to help close as he normally would have.

Everyone knew of his infatuation for her, no doubt even Esra herself knew, only out of kindness and pity did she show him any attention, even if it was just to see her a few nights every week when she was working or coming back from a date.

He was absolutely resigned to loving Esra from afar for the rest of his life, being that awkward neighbour through the periphery of her life until she got married and moved away. There were some days where he couldn’t wait for that to happen, it would be agony to watch but all he had ever wanted was for Esra to be happy and if she wasn't around then he would be able to move on with his own life. Marry, have a family and maybe he could eventually forget her.

At the moment, however, no other woman existed in his brain as a possibility other than Esra, to his own Mother’s chagrin. She had pleaded for him to ask someone, anyone out unable to fathom why no one would want to date her son. He had managed to way-lay her by focusing on his studies.

Then he would be expected to make some kind of effort, the rejection he could handle - it was the jeering laughter and mockery that made it unbearable.

Why would anyone want to date Ozan Korfaly? He had heard time and time again. And he knew the answer.

Because he would never love anyone quite as much as he loved Esra and no woman deserved to be second-best in their husband’s eyes.

Or, at least, in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep - that’s what he pretended.

¬¬¬

The second time Esra had worn the dress, Ozan had found himself almost immediately and uncomfortably hard. It was a reaction he usually managed to stifle when being around Esra - especially as a teenager when she had found her own personal style included wearing short dresses designed to do nothing but both make and ruin his day.

Sheer willpower had kept him out of the more embarrassing situations, but occasionally his reactions managed to get away from him, usually when she did something out of the ordinary. Like stand too close, or wear a dress like that and then bend down in front of him.

She was meant to be picked up for another date, but her date was late so she had decided to spend the time waiting by sitting down at Ozan’s table and telling him how he should not do this when he dated as it was terrible behaviour and she expected better of him.

So flustered by the fact that she had chosen to sit down with him to wait, he had promptly choked on his meal and dropped his fork. Esra had responded by quickly jumping up and moving to his side to thump his back, once the food was dislodged she had bent down to grab the fork off the floor so she could replace it.

He had turned to thank her only to find his eyes directly in the path of her breasts as she rose to stand, his eyes stayed staring down to the floor as his brain whirred through the many reasons why she wasn’t wearing a bra while she sashayed away leaving him to stew in his own disgrace and arousal.

He didn’t meet her eyes as she returned with a new fork and had mumbled out the most insincere ‘thank you’ the land of Turkey had ever witnessed. Ten minutes of awkwardness followed as he refused to raise his head and mumbled out one-word answers to Esra’s ever-growing annoyance. He praised Allah when her date finally decided to show up and whisk her off.

Once she had departed, his head hit the table making all the cutlery and dishes clang slightly as he tried, mostly in vain, to sear the image out of his brain. He was already a degenerate when his imagination came to Esra Erten, the last thing it needed was further validation.

He didn’t go back to the cafe for a month and 45 days. It was the longest he had ever gone without seeing her - he had never felt more miserable, not even when his Father had up and gone.

It wasn’t until two years later, the third time she wore it, for their anniversary, that he was able to finally compliment her on it, with no grace at all, which she took in stride.

And a few hours later he was taking it off of her. If there was one thing he found surprising about their marriage, other than the fact that it actually happened, was how natural and easy their sex life was.

Their first time had been fumbling and filled with quiet laughter as they both admitted they had no idea what they were doing, but committed to figuring it out together.

A year into their marriage they had easily found a rhythm that suited and despite him still being unable to compliment her smoothly he made up for it in other ways.

¬¬¬

The fifth time she wore that dress he had to watch himself, they were divorced for long enough that the dress should not have had that kind of an impact on him anymore.

But Esra knew exactly what she was doing. She knew what that dress did to him because he told her and she had witnessed it first hand. One night, not long after they were engaged she had complimented him on the colour of one of his shirts. They had lapsed into silence when he realised he didn’t know how to respond to his intended, basically saying she found him attractive in something.

Esra had looked at him expectantly and then with exasperation had asked him if there was anything he liked that she wore.

She rolled her eyes when he managed to stammer out ‘anything’ and looked at him pointedly, clarifying if there was anything specific.

He managed to look anywhere except at her and knew that his ears were red but in the end, he did mention one particular dress he was fond of for very specific reasons.

She now yielded that knowledge like a sharp blade, piercing through every memory he had fought so hard to forget, taking him back to a time where he didn’t know what unhappiness felt like.

And now that unhappiness was so piercing he could feel the bitterness creeping up to solidify all of the cracks in his walls that she was trying to batter down.

He had felt like the luckiest man in the world when she wore that dress. Mostly it was brought out for the anniversary of their wedding or his birthday. Moments of his life when he had been the happiest he could ever remember - because she had been in those moments.

It was the worst kind of glaring reminder that once upon a time he didn’t have to hide the fact that he wanted to take it off her, now he was back to where he started, dreaming about what could have been but only worse - because he knew and had lost it.

He knew what was under that dress, his hands had explored under that dress, in their most passionate moments sometimes it hadn’t even come off and in some of their most tender, he had slowly removed it, doing his best to revere every part of her while doing so.

If she had caught him staring more than once at her figure in that dress that night she didn’t let on. She then had the gall to claim there was nothing special about it later the next day, that she wore it for no particular reason.

Lies.

She knew full well - as the fourth time she wore that dress, it had been his birthday, he had felt far more courageous than he was well within his rights to be and had ended up fingering her at the restaurant they were at.

What's more, was that she had let him.

It was a memory so vivid he remembered every detail. Down to what the person sitting three seats behind him was wearing - not that it was important. Esra had walked past that table on the way back from the bathroom and the man sitting there had followed her stride all the way back to their quiet booth.

Ozan remembered that mix of insecurity when the man raised an eyebrow and quiet masculine satisfaction when that raised eyebrow turned into a scowl as Esra kissed him on the cheek for ordering her favourite dessert instead of his own.

She had squeezed his hand in thanks before starting to take slow bites of the fruity dessert, their hands had remained entwined before she lowered them into her lap. The tips of his fingers lightly grazed her knee and while she remained oblivious to what the soft skin did to his nervous system, he remained acutely aware that if he moved his hand up by a few inches they would be entering dangerous territory.

He had thought of it before, of course, they hadn’t however discussed anything of the sort, they hadn’t needed to. He was in no way displeased in any way thus far about their bedroom activities and hoped that she felt the same.

Nor did he want to do this regularly. They’d had a little bit too much to drink, it was his birthday and the candlelight made Esra glow, she looked radiant and he wanted to see her come for him - sooner rather than later.

He leaned in slightly and braced for what could potentially be a gigantic mistake, he kissed the side of her head and gently inhaled her perfume, letting his fingers gently stroke the skin on her thigh. She hummed slightly and he felt her lean sideways into him as his other arm came up around the back of the booth so that she could cuddle directly into him.

‘Nice?’ he whispered, unable to keep his tone light, Esra took another small bite and smiled up at him, nodding. ‘Would you like some?’ She offered him a forkful and he smiled before shaking his head, ‘no, thank you,’ he met her eyes, ‘I plan on having something else for dessert.’

Her own gaze widened at the implication and her glow became rosy as she dropped her head down, ‘Ozan!’ she gently chided at his candour, suddenly shy but he knew from her tone she wasn’t displeased by what he inferred.

She was still smiling, even if she wasn’t looking directly at him and he stroked her knee with his fingertips a few times before slowly removing his hand from hers, she looked up at him in surprise and he kept her gaze before gently drifting his fingers up her thigh and under her skirt.

‘Ozan!’ She whisper-hissed his name again and he immediately stopped moving. She didn’t look scandalised or horrified, maybe nervous but also intrigued.

‘No?’ He asked gently, ‘not here, at least?’

She stammered slightly which amused him, Esra very rarely hesitated over something to say which meant he wasn’t in ‘no’ territory. He gently traced circles and patterns, occasionally his fingers brushed her underwear as he waited for her to decide.

‘Wha - what do you want to do?’ She asked quietly as she took another bite, she didn’t meet his eyes but her cheeks were still pink.

He kept his fingers where they were and leaned in ever so closer to her to gauge every reaction from her exquisite face. ‘I would really like to get down on my knees and taste you while you are having your treat.’

Her inhale was sharp as he paused and considered his next words, ‘but that won’t be possible - not with everyone here watching. I don’t want someone else to see you come, Esra. I want those moments to myself.’

Her eyes flickered around the restaurant as though she had forgotten where they were, he extended a finger to run down the centre of her underwear and she bit down on her fork a bit harder than necessary.

He let out a playful sigh and let his other hand curl in the tips of her hair, ‘instead, I suppose I shall have to prepare you.’

She removed the fork from her mouth and looked at him, ‘prepare me?’ she asked, confused.

He nodded, ‘I want you so wet that you drip down my fingers,’ her inhale was shaky and the fork hit the plate with a jolt of movement. ‘So that when we get home, I can have you immediately.’

She moved her legs together, as though trying to create unconscious friction and he took the chance to move her underwear to one side and run his fingers down her slit.

He could feel how hot she was, how she was slowly opening for him. ‘I want you to beg for me to let you come here,’ his wandering digits found her clit and he gently toyed with it as she let out a quiet, short whimper, relaxing her legs even further.

He adjusted his hand so that his thumb was resting near to where her bud was and then his middle finger ran up and down her slit, covering her in her own wetness, ‘you know that I won’t let you Esra, but I want you to burn for me - like I always do for you.’

He gently pushed in one finger and watched as Esra bit her lip hard to avoid making any sound. He watched her tongue soothe over her bottom lip, he ached to kiss her, he eyed her lips as he spoke again, ‘very good, sweetheart - can you feel how you’re nearly ready for me?’

She didn’t respond and kept her eyes trained on the half-eaten dessert in front of her, he grinned to himself, the lip bite had been the first tell, she was trying to keep focused, to not let anyone know what they were doing.

He gently removed his hand away from her and her eyes directly moved back to his, searching wildly for why he was stopping. He smiled down at her and brought his fingers to his lips. He could see the shine of her on his fingertips and smell her essence.

He could see a faint tremble as he savoured her taste and her hand suddenly clutched onto his thigh, ‘we need to leave.’ She stood abruptly, he grabbed her hand and coaxed her back to sitting, ‘Esra, we’re not finished.’ He smirked at her, fully preparing for her to settle back in, instead, she moved her hand to rest over his heart.

‘No, Ozan - we’re not finished. Not by a long shot.’ She whispered very quietly, eyes focused directly on him as she spoke, ‘because you are going to take me home, you are going to clean me up with your mouth and make me come at least twice before I may decide to sit on your lap and ride you into such an oblivion that you forget your own name.’

He sat there dumbfounded by the innocent look on her face and the dark, sultry timbre of her voice that he had never heard before.

Her fingers curled down across his lap as she leaned in to give him a lingering kiss, ‘you’ve prepared me so well Ozan, don’t you want to enjoy the fruits of your labour…’ she asked eyes knowing and so coquettish as she took a grape from her plate and offered it to his mouth.

He managed to take the grape between his lips and raised his hand to call for the cheque as she sat back, immensely satisfied while he fumbled trying to eat the grape and explain to the waiter to hurry.

¬¬¬

The sixth time she wore it was the last, and only because he had ripped it when removing it from her. So much so that it was irreparable.

Thankfully she hadn’t minded, they had worked each other up into such a frenzy that she had returned the favour, the buttons of his black shirt had pinged off and ripped down the middle when she tore it from him.

Besides, she always looked best when in his clothing as demonstrated the next morning over breakfast.

For the first time in many months, they were both single, he was divorced, finally, from Chagla.

Cinar, in the end, was unable to fully trust Esra, especially when it came to him and she had turned down his proposal. He had learned that little nugget from Musa, who had heard it from Zeynep.

He and Esra had been doing well as friends, not dissimilar to their teenage years, except there was now the added carnal knowledge to throw a spanner in the works. Here and there they had had the odd moment of chemistry. Too long looks, a touch of the arm, back or shoulder to steady or waylay. A warm smile as something triggered a memory.

He had intended to wait a little longer before upping the ante, because as he had learnt, painfully, seeing Esra with someone else was not something he would be able to tolerate for too long a period.

But they’d had a moment during the week where they had bumped into each other around a tight corner at work, he had steadied her and he noticed her eyes glaze over as she smelt his cologne. Their eyes had met and hers had flickered down to his lips ever so quickly, he would have thought nothing of it - but then she had bit her bottom lip.

At his sharp inhale, because they both knew what that lip bite meant, she had dashed, stammering something about reports for Pinar.

Then she had shown up later that week to their launch wearing that dress. Between the dress and the lip bite in one week, he hadn’t stood a chance.

And so they found themselves at their house, technically he had it built but it was her name on the papers, not that she knew that yet. They were slightly tipsy and completely enamoured with each other in a way they hadn’t been for far too long.

It was as though nothing could separate them now but they still couldn’t get close enough to each other as such, their clothing was in the way. Shoes had been kicked off, he had all but demanded she take her hair down and she had slapped his hands away when he tried to undo the buckle on his belt, complaining that he was taking too long and did it herself.

She wasn’t wrong, he was taking too long, his hands were shaking and he was having difficulty multitasking between undressing himself and touching Esra’s skin. They hadn’t made it to the bed in the end, the rug had been soft enough as had the living room couch.

Esra made some noises about replacing them, he had responded by suggesting to swap them for the unused ones that were in their bedroom. She had started to imply something about them finding themselves in a similar situation, but had broken off with a grin and deep blush as he pulled her tighter to him and kissed her deeply.

As she started to doze he tucked in the blanket over them a bit tighter and started to gently played with a few strands of her hair, he didn't think she would ever understand how much she meant to him.

Which was okay, he knew now that he didn’t have to go to such extremes like last time. He knew Esra better than anyone and this time apart had taught him far more than he thought. Esra still needed to learn about him, but they had time and in many ways, she knew him better than he knew himself.

Whether she had worn the dress for him this time or for herself didn't matter, she was here in his arms and they had managed, despite every obstacle thrown at them, to get back to this point.

He had never, growing up, imagined that his life could turn out to be like this. But somehow, the most beautiful girl in their area had chosen him. Not once, not twice but now for a third time, she had chosen to be with him and right now he was in his favourite place to be.

Anywhere, with her next to him.

¬¬¬¬

#ask mantik intikam #esra x ozan #ozan x esra #turkish dramas #turkish dizi #eszan #eszan fanfic

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mintsuke · 4 years

Text

Second Chance (k.s.)

In which; Kita Shinsuke falls for his daughter’s f!kindergarten teacher.

WC: 6.6K

A/N; 200 follower special!! 😳 ty all again and I hope you enjoy and lmk what you think <3

*Slight reference to Clannad :’)

Warnings!: mentions of death, miscarriage, cheating

First day of school jitters weren’t a thing in Kita’s book. There was no such thing when he was always prepared with all his supplies in his satchel and knowledge of where and what class he was in. Why was there a need to be nervous as long as you studied and prepared like usual?

It hadn’t even registered in his mind that he was nervous until he had to let go of the tiny hand curled around his index finger. There was only three times he’d ever felt nervous, his chest twisting crudely and his stomach fluttering uncomfortably with butterflies. One of which, he’d like to never have to relive.

And currently. It was scarily coming back to him like a pick up truck hurling towards him at dangerous speeds.

He almost forgot how to breathe as other parents kiss the bubbly cheeks of their own children and watch as the students stand in line as best as they can in front of their classroom.

“Papa?” the little girl asked, her large hazel eyes blinked at his strained chestnut own, cheeks full and pinch-able, and mouth wide in excitement. His grandmother had helped pull her dark hair into cute little pig tails, not taking a no for an answer when the little one threw a fit about being a big girl now.

“Kita Erina-chan?”

A breath. Then all oxygen once again left his lungs as he snapped his head up to greet his daughter’s teacher.

You stand there with a warm smile, eyes crinkled and nose slightly scrunched. A striped apron had been tied over your clothes.

He’s not even quite sure of his own reaction as he watches with deaf ears as your lips move, but all he can hear is his heart thrumming loudly in his ears. He doesn’t snap out of his stupor until he realizes you’re calling out his family name in confusion.

“Oh... I apologize...” He mutters in a fluster, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Looking around now, he’s probably one of the last parents to let go of their child, and he can’t help the heat that crawls over his cheeks.

It was unlike him to act shy like this as well.

“No worries. A lot of parents have a little reluctance on the first day of school. I mean who wouldn’t when you look at these cute little ones,” You smile down at Erina, who mirrors your expression as you hold out your hand, “Shall we go? I have a lot of fun things planned for you, Erina-chan!”

The heartbreak is unbearable when the little girl releases her hold on his index finger after a brief kiss on his forehead.

“Tell Papa see you later!” You instruct jovially to Erina, who parrots the phrase cutely, as you and the girl lead the line of kindergartners into the classroom.

Kita’s attention is divided between the absolute adorableness of his own child, and the comfortable way you had just referred to him as papa. It doesn’t even kick in that he’s so smitten with your mere appearance until he’s halfway home and realizes he didn’t catch your introduction and name during his stupor.

He forgets, however, that work needs to be done in the field, and regretfully relinquishes picking up his daughter to his grandmother - who claims the walk is nothing for her strong bones. He’d beg to differ, but kept his thoughts to himself and waited until he returned home to Erina and his granny welcoming him home with dinner.

“How was school?” He asked as he opened his arm wide to beckon her onto his lap. Bouncing, she nearly cannonballs onto his crossed legs, briefly hugging her father before kissing his cheek happily.

“It was fun!” She exclaimed, going on to excitedly recount her day. He smiled and listened carefully to her story of playing tag with the other kids, her new favorite book being the one you had read during story time, and the drawing she had made during art - which she ran all the way to her room to grab to show him.

“Oh who’s this?” Kita asks curiously as he places his pointer over what he presumed to be a woman holding the child’s hand, the other being held by a man. At least from what he could out of her block-y crayon shapes and mitten-hands and waves to indicate long hair.

“(L/n)-sensei!” Erina grins toothily.

“You really like your teacher?” A question to which she nods mirthfully to.

Yumie smiles in adoration at the child of her grandson, “She’s a very nice woman, very pretty and young... A perfect match.”

Kita’s eyes narrowed for a half second at the glint in his grandmother’s eyes. What was she trying to hint at?

In all honesty though...

You were pretty.

Ah.

Pushing aside the thought, he made a sound of mild appraisal as he distracts himself with his glass of water. His cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment.

As much as he’d hate to admit it, his grandmother was sharp and sly, she loved teasing when the moment warranted it.

She took every chance she got.

Especially after another day of work for Kita and school for Erina.

“Say Eri-chan, is (L/n)-sensei married?”

Kita choked on his water. Faking a cough to hide the mishap, before dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

“Nope!”

The look of knowing crosses his grandmother’s face, and he can only silently continue to eat his meal.

“Goodnight Eri-chan,” Kita smiles softly down at his daughter, stroking the back of his fingertips over her plump and rosy cheeks. Just like her’s. Those hazel irises that reflected her similar ones, glimmering with curiosity and mischief.

“I love you, Papa,” the young girl yawns in a sluggish manner, eyelids falling close and open as she struggles to stay awake.

Settling down beside her, he turns on his side to allow his daughter to curl against his body. Arms wrapping around her much smaller form securely.

“I love you too.”

He thought that maybe he was just attracted to you. You were a single and beautiful woman, that much was clear. That was just it though, right?

Right?

No.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t dare to love another woman.

Yet, why did he feel so empty? Why was he looking at another woman the way he was?

He had no answer.

Why did he tend to watch as you corralled the children in a somewhat single-file line into the school building? What were these fleeting glances you both shared, a timid smile from your part, and a blush burning on his cheeks as he nods firmly to greet you silently.

Your smile was gentle. Tender and soft, just like her’s.

Crap..

This was fine.

Besides, Erina never expressed a curiosity for her absence of a mother. Why should she, when she had a mother figure like his granny?

It was fine like this. Kita didn’t need to date. He shouldn’t.

At least that was what he kept telling himself. Mother’s day had come and passed, Kita and Erina had spent the night making a mess out of the kitchen in an effort to make dinner and a cake for Yumie. He’d thought everything was fine.

“How was the mother’s day breakfast?” He asked her when he helped her set up their futon for the night.

Her smile was a little more somber this time around, unlike her usual bubbly and wild grin that lit up the world. This one felt sad and he wanted to know why.

“It was good!”

“Want to tell me about it? Why do you look so sad?”

Her gaze fell to her hands, just as her smile did.

“Well, we ate onigiri and sandwiches and desserts that (L/n)-sensei made for us!”

“But?” He pressed slightly.

The girl clasped her fingers over the bedding. Her head tilt downward, her dark hair falling over her head like a curtain that hid her sad expression from his gaze.

“Everyone else had their mamas...”

His smile never faltered, although the pain in his chest grew.

“You don’t like granny accompanying you?”

“No!” She exclaims abruptly, “I... the other boys and girls noticed that I had only brought granny... and I felt sad. Where’s Mama? How come I’m the only one without one?”

She never did have a reason to ask. Now that she does, he’s not sure how to answer. He doesn’t want to upset her with the truth, but lying to her was no good.

“She’s not with us anymore.”

He thought that answer would suffice. Erina looked dejected at the answer but slept on it.

Perhaps a day to the park, when she doesn’t have school and he’s got a day off from working away in the farm, will mend the pieces he’s broken from revealing half the truth of her mother’s whereabouts. She didn’t deserve that kind of pain at this age. It just didn’t help her desire for a mother figure, a real one that she would call Mama.

“Oh! Kita-san?”

His heart nearly skips a beat before increasing exponentially in rhythm.

You’re standing above him, Kita sitting on the bench while watching his daughter play with the neighborhood children, grocery bags hanging from your forearms. His eyes make a mistake to examine your figure as a whole.

No apron. Just casual clothing on your day off with no need to look nice for your students. Yet, he couldn’t help but admire your natural beauty. Simply effortless.

Erina immediately notices you and comes racing over, calling your name out brightly before greeting you with a tight hug around your hips. You smile warmly at the girl, greeting her politely as she rejoins the children again.

Kita is in awe. He’d imagined this scene millions of times. Erina running into open arms, two pairs of hazel eyes gazing at one another with affection, kisses pressed to the girl’s forehead with whispered praises of her cuteness.

“Mama!” he imagined her say it dozens of times. Not out of sadness that she was different from her classmates who had mothers, but out of love for the woman who had given birth to her.

“Kita-san?”

He blinks, eyes widening a fraction before he bows his head in your direction.

“Sorry, I was very deep in my thoughts.”

Taking a seat on the bench beside him, you laugh slightly, and he can’t help but adore the sound. It brings a fluffy feeling in his chest and he can’t remember the last time he’d felt such a way, or heard her laugh.

“You’re thinking a little too hard, don’tcha think?” You say with a soft chuckle following your teasing. He doesn’t answer, but you take this into stride and direct your attention to the adorable mini Kita playing on the monkey bars.

“Eri-chan, is so cute and lovable,” You say after a brief moment passes, “You’re a lucky father, Kita-san.”

His lips quirk and you can’t help but stare, his expression nostalgic and sad.

“I am, she reminds me a lot of my wife.”

“Her mother must be a kind and gentle woman.” You comment good-naturedly.

“She was.” He says with that same, fond expression.

“A lucky woman indeed,” You chuckle, slightly envious of the woman who captured his heart. “Pardon me if I’m intruding, but does your wife work often? Eri-chan looked a little sad after our mother’s day activities.”

“Oh. I...” he trails off.

He looks slightly uncomfortable, his smile falling and you feel like you had in fact crossed a line. He’s unsure how to put the words together, but you stop him with a hand held up.

“Don’t worry about it, I apologize for pressing too far.”

Blinking, he opens his mouth, but you grant him that gentle smile of yours. He hates that it reminds him so much of her. Everything about you felt serene and soothing to be around, that darned smile of yours made him feel weak and vulnerable. He always was around her.

“Not at all, but thank you.”

You cast him a sidelong glance before standing up, looping your wrists through the loops of the plastic bags.

“Well, I suppose I should be heading home now, it was nice seeing you both outside of school.”

He’s not sure what compels him to, but he stands abruptly. The action causes you to stop and wait for him to say something, and he’s not even sure why he reacted the way he did. Warmth spreads across his cheeks, the hue noticeable to your amusement.

“Um would you like some help with your groceries?”

The question shocks both you and himself. Your eyes widen a fraction before crinkling, accompanied by that beautiful smile.

“How gentlemanly of you Kita-san,” You chuckle, “I’m okay though, the sentiment is appreciated.”

He doesn’t argue, almost feeling embarrassed by his own rashness. Erina seems to notice that you’re preparing to leave and comes running over to hug you goodbye. His stomach is turning, chest twisting, but his expression keeps a small smile as you bid your farewells.

“Thinking about (L/n)-sensei?”

A few hours later and he still can’t seem to stop thinking about you. He stiffens as his grandmother chuckles wholeheartedly. Was it really written all over his face?

The elder takes a seat beside him on the engawa, Erina already tucked away into bed in their shared room. Her warm, chocolate eyes observe the dazed look that remains on her grand son’s expression.

“It’s been five years already Shin-chan.”

He glances at her, unsure of where she was getting at suddenly.

“It has,” He agrees wearily.

“You don’t think Eri-chan asks me all the time where her mama is?”

Oh.

His jaw clenches.

“Why don’t you move on and let her go already?”

An image of her and now, you, appears in his mind. He’s far too aware of his attraction towards you. It just...

“It doesn’t feel right.”

The elder snorts at his answer.

“And why does it not? Like you’re betraying Reina’s love? For moving forward in your life? You don’t even notice how much you’re suffering by living in the past.”

He doesn’t answer and her eyes soften, placing a gentle hand over his shoulder.

“At best, Eri-chan is your living reminder of yours and Reina’s love.”

A moment. Then a sigh.

“I want you to be happy Shin-chan.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, “That doesn’t exactly entail that I have to date again Granny.”

The woman snickers, “I never said anything about dating, Shin-chan.”

The man flushes.

“No. I— Well...”

“Just admit it, you stubborn grandson of mine,” The woman jabs lightly at his arm.

“I admit nothing,” He says with a hand raking slowly over his face to hide the darkening blush.

“Then why do you get so flustered around Eri-chan’s cute teacher?”

He stands abruptly, pressing his mouth firmly into a straight line as he takes a deep breath.

“I... I’m going to get some rest, don’t stay up too late granny.”

The elder watches as he retreats back to his room and chuckles.

“What a stubborn boy. How unlike you.”

He never realized how much Erina really wished to have a mother of her own. He never thought it’d get to the point of Erina throwing a tantrum at dinner, tears welling up in her large hazel eyes.

“I hate you Papa! I wish I had Mama!”

“Erina-chan!” Yumie starts, but the young girl stands and races out of the room. Sniffling, she throws the sliding doors open and disappears into the night.

“Stay here granny, I’ll go look for her,” Kita says as he gets up, “It’s my fault for never telling her the whole truth.”

Hurriedly, he slips on his shoes and leaves the house in a rush. He’s not even sure where she’d run to, but the fear is bubbling in his chest and reaching his throat. Sweat is falling in beads over his forehead. The anxiety is growing and growing like a flame, making his breath shortened.

He couldn’t lose Erina too.

Frustration and stress is starting to overwhelm him. Two emotions he’s never had to deal with until Erina’s birth.

To his relief, however, he passes by the park where you had sat with him while he watched Erina play. He spots your crouched form underneath the flickering lights of the park lamps. The breath stuck in his constricting throat finally relents as he hurries over.

“(L/n)-san!”

You look up with a flinch, eyes wide before relaxing at his appearance as you raise a finger to your lips. He nods as you turn slightly to reveal his daughter. The girl clutches close to your front, her cheeks still moist from crying minutes prior. Her breathing has calmed and she sleeps soundly in your arms.

“Thank you,” he whispers as you adjust your hold on her to carry her properly as you walk with Kita back to his home.

“Don’t mention it, I was luckily on my way to the local conbini when I saw her run into the park.”

You glance down at the girl, those same kind eyes, and that same motherly smile. They were the same.

The journey back to his home comes to an end and you attempt to pass the child onto her father, but she stirs from her sleep and complains. He wonders if she might’ve been a mama’s girl if she was here. The thought makes his chest tighten briefly. Although, it is quite endearing to see his daughter cling to you like so.

“Sensei has to go back home, be a good girl for your papa okay?” You say as she continues to make it difficult for you to leave. The two of you share a look before she finally relents and allows Yumie to take her, still refusing to face her father.

“Just let her cool down, she’ll come around,” You say when you catch his downhearted expression.

“I suppose...” He sighs before glancing at you, “Thank you again, I couldn’t have found her if it wasn’t for you.”

“It’s no problem Kita-san,” You chuckle, “Please, I don’t mind so don’t worry about thanking me.”

Scratching the back of his neck meekly, he decides to press his luck and offers to take you home.

“O-oh no, that would be too much of a hassle, you’re home already and all...” You wave your hands in front of you but he shakes his head.

“No, I’m the one offering, how could I let a woman walk home by herself at this time of night too?”

You pout to his surprise, the expression way too cute for his heart.

“You’re a rather sly man, Kita-san.”

You finally allow him to walk you home, falling into stride alongside one another. The pace is neither too slow or hurried. One question leads to a passionate talk, on your part, about teaching children and how you adore them. There’s an unfamiliar glint in your eyes, a falter in your expression that he notices as you talk, but he chooses not to interrupt.

In turn, he talks about volleyball, but any story that had to do with high school always led back to her.

“I met my wife in high school,” He admitted meekly, gauging your expression briefly for any signs of discomfort or whatnot, but you smile at him encouragingly. “I was actually a first year when I met her, she had been a second year. She wasn’t the manager for the team or anything romantic like that, really... In fact, she was part of the home economics club.

“She loved cooking. We didn’t start dating until the year after, but she would make me bento boxes every day. It wasn’t until half a year into our relationship did I learn about her weak immune system. She constantly fell ill, and even missed much of third year that she had to be held back.

“Even then... she still managed to watch my games, although she was never able to come watch us when we went to nationals.”

You listen intently to his stories of his wife, adoring the way his face brightens at times and turns somber the next, his expression a whirlwind of nostalgia. He really loves his wife, and you feel a little jealous and guilty for feeling the way you do. It doesn’t even hit you that you’ve reached your apartment until he stops and motions to your door.

“O-oh, sorry, I... would you like to come in for some tea? As thanks for walking me home of course!” You stammer as he chuckles heartily at your fluster.

“If I’m not intruding.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, your cheeks burning as you prep the kettle on the stove and search for two mugs. It doesn’t even feel real that he’s in your home, but he’s there when you look over your shoulder to see him seated on the floor cushion at the low table.

When the tea is ready, you settle down adjacent to him. He receives the mug gratefully, sniffing the hot liquid with an exhale of bliss at the calming aroma.

“Your wife sounds like an amazing woman,” You say after you take a sip from your own mug.

“She was,” he says cryptically, and before you question it, he beats you to the punch, “How about you? Do you have a lucky man in your life?”

You laugh. Gazing down at your ring finger dreamily.

“I did. Before at least.”

He felt a twist in his chest. Was it because you looked so sad and lonely, or the fact that there was once a man in your life.

Why should the latter even matter to him?

“Puppy love, straight out of high school. He was any girl’s dream. Intelligent and handsome. We were engaged a little ways through my studies to be an elementary teacher.” The look on your face is one of bliss, remembering your younger days, “We always talked of having a family together, we would move into a nice house with a cute pup and surrounded by our children.

“At least until I found out, I was infertile. I’d gotten pregnant finally and the baby never made it. It was a deal breaker for our relationship, he’d ended up cheating on me and lashing out on me for being the way I am.

“I spent a very long time mourning for the loss of my child and my relationship. I’d lost everything and blamed it on myself for being like this.

“I guess after a while, I was teaching and looking after these children as if they were my own, and it had healed me in its own way. I guess I finally accepted where I was, who I was. It still hurts even now, wanting nothing more than my own family, my own child, but teaching them like this makes me happy nonetheless. A lot of my old students often come visit from time to time, it makes me very happy.

“I guess even now... I don’t try to look for a partner out of fear that I won’t be enough due to my condition.”

Your eyes gloss over and he wants to reach over and wipe your tears away, but he keeps himself seated as you smile down at your left hand.

“That’s not true,” he says, “Any man would be lucky to love and be loved by you (L/n)-san.”

Your cheeks grow warm at the comforting words.

Maybe, just maybe, you thought, he could’ve been referring to himself as someone possibly capable of loving you.

“Truthfully... my wife isn’t around because she passed away. The birth had taken a toll on her weak body,” he reveals finally, eyes downcast at the liquid in his mug.

The birth of their daughter had been one of the most happiest and yet saddest moments of his life. It left him a widow and a single parent.

“I’m so sorry...” You begin but he shakes his head.

“No don’t be...”

“...So does Erina-chan...?”

“I never told her to the whole truth... I didn’t want to make her sad, but she’s constantly asking for her mother and wondering why she is different from the rest of her classmates who do. I only ever explain that mama’s not with us anymore... but I was too afraid to face the truth myself. I see much of Reina in my daughter and I’m so afraid losing her and letting go of her. I don’t want to let go of her hand too.”

He remembered that day like it was yesterday. They had been expecting the arrival of their daughter with excitement. His wife’s immune system had always been poor and he knew that very well. He just never expected the amount of strain child birth had put on her until her hand that was once holding his very firmly, let go.

“I can’t let her go, Reina... Moving on would be leaving her in the past and betraying her love.”

He bites his lip. His emotions were starting to flare at the thought of losing Erina and remembering the loss of his wife. Moving on felt too selfish. He didn’t deserve that. Moving on would be a luxury and almost felt wrong. Like he was choosing to forget Reina.

“Someone as important as Reina-san is very hard to forget, and shouldn’t be forgotten at all,” You start, choosing your words carefully while glancing at his expression every so often, in case you step on a sore spot, “In fact, it is her love that keeps you going, it is her legacy that lives within both yours and Erina-chan’s hearts. Erina-chan is the living proof of both of your love. A beautiful daughter, indeed. She must be very happy watching over you both. And I’m sure she wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over this, she’d want you to be happy Kita-san. What’s holding you back?”

“I’m afraid.”

Admittedly, Kita Shinsuke is very afraid.

You empathize with him, seeing a little bit of yourself, when you were at your lowest, in the way he slumps in his seat and glares down at his tea to keep his emotions in check.

“It’s okay to be afraid. It’s natural for us human beings. You just don’t need to rush yourself, Kita-san. Don’t let yourself bottle those kind of feelings. Acknowledge them and respect those emotions, or else you’d be ignoring the feelings that Reina-san has given you. Take all the time you need to make peace with yourself and live on for her.”

Your words are heartfelt and he appreciates it very much.

“Thank you and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, but I think you owe Erina-chan an apology.”

He still lingers though, despite preparing to leave to head back home.

You still smile, although sadly this time. “Actually, Kita-san... I know this is sudden... but I need to get this off of my chest... I quite like you, romantically to be more precise.”

His eyes widen. The breath catching in his throat, almost as if he suddenly forgot how to breathe.

You scratch the back of your neck meekly, looking anywhere but at him, “To be honest with you, I was under the impression that you were a single father but under different circumstances...

“I was prepared to face the fact that you still loved your wife whether it be separation through divorce but never had I considered her passing; I apologize for my rudeness and over-zealousness.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, in simpler terms, is that I kind of like you Kita-san, and I.. trust me when I say that I never hoped to ever replace Reina-san’s place in your heart, because she is a very special person to both you and Erina-chan... but I cannot just overlook the way I can’t stop thinking about the charming man that comes every morning to see his, just as beautiful, daughter off to school.”

His heart skips a beat, stomach fluttering. Then it twists and he has to bite his lip. You’re looking up at him with tenderness, neither expecting him to share or reject your feelings. You look up at him with those similar eyes that hold so much kindness and patience for him. You don’t expect anything from him, if not a rejection. You had prepared yourself for it when you had realized you were starting to stare far too long at the man when he came in the mornings.

Your fellow teachers teased you for your crush, asking what you’d do if he was married. He never did have a ring on his finger so you did have some sort of hope. Perhaps you were just a little too ambitious.

He finally takes a shaky breath, unsure what to say anymore. He didn’t want to hurt you or your feelings. The conflict was evident in the swirl of emotions in his chestnut hues. Brows knitted together and teeth worrying into the plush of his bottom lip.

If it were your place, you would have kissed him and told him it was okay, there was nothing to worry over. It, however, was not your place to.

“I’m sorry... I...” He starts, unsure how to answer, but you stop him.

“I know. I didn’t tell you this to force you into anything or rush you into moving on, maybe it was just me after all, falling for you without so much as a date or a proper talk like we just had.”

“(L/n)-san...”

You shake your head, placing your hand over his mouth to quiet him. At the realization of your bold action, you retract your hand with a timid smile. Looking at him finally from under your lashes.

“You should go see your daughter Kita-san.”

How was it, that you were still able to look at him like that? Like he deserved your affections?

He leaves reluctantly. There was no arguing that, not when he’d in-explicitly rejected your feelings, but even so, his chest ached for you.

The walk back is long. He’s drowning in his own thoughts and worries, regretting his own indecisiveness and fears. This was not like him, where was the confident captain of the strong Inarizaki volleyball club?

Atsumu would definitely think the world was ending if he saw him distraught like this. One time was enough, the setter being present along with Aran at the birth of his daughter and the death of his wife.

He slips off his shoes in the foyer, greeting his grandmother who waits for him outside of his bedroom. The elder casts him a meaningful smile before opening the door for him, and closing it once he’s inside.

The miniature lump under the covers is enough to tell him of his daughter’s whereabouts. She’s wide awake as she immediately turns her back to him upon noticing his presence.

Settling into bed, he releases a soft breath.

“I’m sorry Eri-chan. Papa made you mad. Please forgive me.”

His arms reach out carefully, slipping around her middle to pull her close cradle her smaller body close to him. The hold is firm and unyielding despite her silence, afraid that she’ll let go just like Reina.

“Mama... she... she’s an angel now. She watches over us, you, me, and even granny. I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”

A moment passes before he feels her body tremble, sniffles that turn into quiet sobs. The girl turns over to clutch her father close.

“I love you Papa, no matter what!”

“I love you too,” He replies with a soft smile, relief and adoration swimming in his eyes.

Like this, they fall asleep, tired from the events of the day.

It’s the weekend the next morning and he allows the girl to sleep a little longer as he slips out of the room. Dawn has just barely broken through the night and he stretches his limbs before taking a seat on the engawa in a daze. He can’t stop thinking about you. He never could.

It had unsettled him however, that he might’ve been deluding himself into thinking he liked you. There was always the possibility that he only was attracted to you for your similarities with his wife. He didn’t want to take advantage of your feelings because of that. It wasn’t fair to you.

“Ahhh I messed up,” he mutters exasperatedly

“Messed up? I never thought I’d see the day you say such a thing, Shin-chan. You finally made up with Eri-chan though, what’s troubling you so?” Yumie asks as she takes a seat beside him.

“(L/n)-san confessed to me.”

The woman continues to watch the sun rise without waver. She must’ve expected it after all.

“And? What are you planning on doing? Does it still feel wrong? Is it something you don’t want? Shin-chan, you just need to choose what’s best for you. Both Eri-chan and I want you to be happy. Trust yourself as you always do. Where is that unwavering confidence I always saw in you back in your volleyball days?”

His eyes glimmer.

“Granny...”

“What is it that you want?” She asks again, “Why not be selfish just this once, you deserve happiness, Shin-chan.”

His grandmother’s right, and he knows it. The same thoughts continue to boggle his conscience even as a few days pass and he continues to walk Erina to school. You both steal glances at one another, but he’s still unsure of what to do.

“How’s my cute 'lil God-daughter?” Atsumu asks heartily when he comes home for the week, inviting Kita for lunch at Onigiri Miya.

“Our God-daughter,” Osamu corrects as he sets down a platter of their favorites. He smiles at their ex-captain, gesturing towards the onigiri with his hand, “Made fresh only from the best rice around of course.”

Kita chuckles and nods his head in thanks. Truthfully, there had been a whole entire chaos when word had broke out among his old volleyball club members that he was having a daughter. The boys were ecstatic about being uncles to Erina and made a whole fuss about who was to be her God-fathers. In the end, Aran and the twins had been chosen.

“No need to be salty when yer clearly not the cool uncle,” Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother.

“I’m sorry? Who almost broke ‘er arm when...” Osamu trails off immediately, sweat dropping down his temple at Kita’s tight-lipped smile.

“When what?”

“Nothing!” The blonde interjects with a shaky laugh, “How’ve ya been Kita-san? How’s Eri-chan and Yumie-san?”

He’d almost forgotten about his whole dilemma until then, his expression faltering as he glances down at the onigiri in his hands.

“It’s been... okay... I guess.”

The two blink at him in unison.

“You guess? Who are ya, and what have ya done with Kita-san?”

The elder shoots them a hardened look, unamused by the question.

“What’s botherin’ ya? It’s not everyday we see ya this unsure,” Osamu asks thoughtfully, remembering the days of their ever robotic captain. Robust and always confident, they had never thought they’d ever see their ex-captain downtrodden like this. At least not since Reina.

Just like in high school, when he surprised the team in a sudden spurt of emotion and teared up at being offered the title of captain, they were still never used to the sudden burst of emotions he was capable of at the birth of his daughter and the passing of his wife. The same shock remains as he lets his sadness cross over expression.

He finally relents under their pressing stares, explaining the situation revolving his attraction towards Erina’s teacher... and well, your reciprocated affections. He expressed his fears, his feelings, anything and everything that held him back.

“Is she pretty?” Atsumu grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively before yelping when Osamu smacks him upside his head.

Kita casts him a blank look, biting his lip to hold back the fond smile that crosses his expression.

“She’s very pretty.”

Osamu elbows his brother before he can open his mouth. “Kita-san, from what you said just now, she sounds like a very kind woman and honestly I believe you deserve happiness. You’re not at fault for anything, you’ve done nothing wrong, but you need to trust yourself, trust (L/n)-san, and decide what it is you want.

“I can see where you’re coming from, comparing (L/n)-san to Reina, but you need to look at her as her own person. She also deserves that much.”

The older twin nods in agreement, “It’s not everyday I get to give you advice Kita-san, but I agree with Yumie-san, you should let yourself be selfish just this once.”

“You both deserve a second chance at love.”

It’s a lazy night after finishing all of your grading for the weekend. You order takeout instead of cooking and cozy up in your sleeping clothes with a blanket and plush pillow. Perhaps a romance movie to quell the ache of your rejection.

You were just about ready to watch your selected flick when the doorbell rang. Blinking, you hadn’t expected company, other than the delivery man at least. With not much effort put into your appearance, you shrug at your unkempt hair and lack of professional clothing and answer the door.

“Hey.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets. Kita stands tall and confident at your apartment door step, and yet there was something timid about the way his eyes glanced down at you shyly, his fingers clasped at his sides.

“Hi,” You reply immediately before feeling the heat creep up your neck. To your horror, his eyes glance down your sleeping attire and you hold out your hand to stop him. “S-sorry, I apologize for coming out looking like this... I wasn’t necessarily expecting visitors at this time.”

He blinks once, then twice, before chuckling softly. The sound is warm and fluffy, making your heart flutter effortlessly. It almost hurts knowing he didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“No, I should apologize for showing up unannounced... but I never did quite get your number.”

Huh?

Your jaw nearly hits the floor.

“Kita-san... are you...”

“Asking for your number? Yes. I am.” He says firmly and confidently, eyes sparkling as he gazes at you with that beautiful and charming smile of his, “Maybe a date to go with it as well?”

“But... I thought... you rejected me...?”

He shook his head, “I never said I didn’t like you back, (L/n)-san. To be quite honest with you, I think you look very adorable like this.” Your fluster is a treat to his eyes as he reaches forward to take your hand in his. It’s warm and soft, and yet strong and calloused from working in the fields. “Thank you for opening my eyes. I thought about it and my own feelings and I want to stop running away and being afraid of the present and accepting my past.”

“If it’s okay with you. I’d really like to try this.”

You look genuinely surprised and touched by his sincere words, his eyes full of determination and adoration as they bore into yours.

“And by this you mean...”

The sly quirk of your glossy lips is tell-tale of your knowing of his intentions, but you like to tease him nonetheless.

He might never stop seeing her in his everyday life, but he’d come to the acceptance that you were two individual women and he would continue to love and be grateful to his late wife, but he decided he would move forward for his daughter’s sake.

There was no stopping the way he was falling hard for you. He adored you for who you were and that was what mattered.

“Please grant me the honor of going on a date with you.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita imagines #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita scenarios #kita shinsuke scenario

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: Well, this update kicked me in the proverbial nuts! All I gotta say is... good luck to my Yoongi stans out there... You’re kinda gonna need it ;-; || W.C. 2.2K

prev // part 31 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

August 22, 2020 — 9:39PM

When you exit the taxi, the cold night air causes goosebumps to form across your arms. You pay the driver without looking behind you, shutting the door with the back of your foot as you take in the familiar surroundings. You’ve been to this apartment complex more times than you can count; you’ve crashed on your friends’ couch so many times that it’s become a second bed to you at this point, especially with how often all five of you love to drink the night away. In many ways, this place has become a safe haven for you.

Normally, you would let yourself into their apartment without needing to knock or text in advance. After many years of coming over, you even have your own set of keys, graciously gifted to you by Park Jimin after you found yourself locked out of your own home for the fifth time in one week after Jungkook kept taking your keys by accident. They don’t even answer the door when you knock anymore; they always assume you’ll just barrel in whenever you please, usually with takeout bags and caffeine-laden drinks in hand for impromptu study sessions or video game nights.

But tonight is not one of those nights. This time, Min Yoongi stands waiting for you by the entrance, sitting on the concrete steps in his worn gray hoodie and sweatpants. He looks cold, judging from his pink nose and shivering body, like he’s been waiting outside for at least a few minutes. His dark, inky hair is standing up in all directions, a sign that he must have just woken up from a nap before coming down to meet you. He notices your arrival mid-yawn, his eyebrows shooting up comically as he scrambles to his feet. He rushes towards you, stopping just before the gate that separates the two of you.

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, puffs of white air leaving your lips and dissipating into the night sky. The sight of him alone makes your eyes burn with unshed tears, just aching to fall. He notices immediately, judging by the way his brow crumples with worry.

In an instant, he rips the gate open, giving you no opportunity to say anything else before he pulls you into a bear hug. You gasp in surprise, inhaling sharply and getting a whiff of a scent that you can only describe as wholly Yoongi. It’s comforting, clean, and cozy: everything that encapsulates Yoongi’s whole being.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t know what you’re apologizing for exactly—for interrupting his evening? For making him wait in the cold? For shedding tears on his clothes? For asking for comfort when you didn’t deserve it? Your mind is too tired to wonder which of these things weighs the heaviest amongst your mistakes.

Yoongi hushes you softly, his hand carding through your hair as he rocks you slowly. He presses your face closer to his chest, not chastising you for crying like you thought he would. He only whispers gentle nothings into your ears, the words meaning nothing and everything all at once. “It’s okay,” he repeats over and over again. He says them until the words start to blur, until they make a home inside your heart. Until you almost believe them.

Almost.

You do not know how long it takes for you to run out of tears, how long you stand in silence. All you know is that your frozen hands have grown numb around the straps of your overnight bag, so much so that it takes a second for Yoongi to unfurl your fingers and take the bag away from you. He reaches for your hand with his free one, gently leading up to the apartment without another word.

The world feels cold and still, your muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor the only sounds that keep you grounded to reality. The doors of neighboring apartments start to shift and blur, causing the shadows on the wall to morph like ghosts from the corner of your eye. Yoongi’s apartment is dark when you both enter, no signs of his other two roommates being home even this late at night.

“Jimin left to go to a PC bang. Taehyung hasn’t returned home since I kicked him out this afternoon,” Yoongi says, answering your unspoken question. You turn your head towards him in surprise, not expecting the latter part of his statement.

“You kicked him out? Why?”

“It’s… complicated,” he sighs, aggravated. He gazes at you wearily, and it’s only then that you notice the deep bags lining his eyes like purple moons. The moonlight streaming from their open window casts shadows upon his face, emphasizing the sunkenness of his cheeks. The guilt in your throat builds up, tenfold. You’re disturbing him with your silly little love problems, aren’t you? He already has so much work to do and you’re here, crying over something that you should have known ages ago. You’re acting childish. Coming here was a mistake.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yoongi interrupts your thoughts, squeezing your hand. You had almost forgotten he was still holding you, but the reminder tethers you. His touch lets you know that you are not alone, that he is there because he wants to be. “I know you’re worrying again. You’re not a nuisance. You’re not a bother. I’m your friend, and I care about you. Will you let me care for you? Just this once?”

Your heart, which has felt heavy in your chest ever since this afternoon, lightens ever so slightly. It allows you to force a little smile on your face, but you doubt its of any use, not with the tear tracks evident on your skin. But it’s a start.

“You can use my bathroom to get changed. Do you need some clothes?” he asks, but you shake your head at his offer. As much as you enjoyed wearing his comfortable sweaters, you did still have some clothes that you hadn’t worn in Ilsan. It almost pains you to see them still unworn in your bag, but that’s just you being ridiculous, isn’t it? You chose to leave, after all. He had told you it was the right thing to do, and at the time, you thought he was right.

You shuffle into Yoongi’s bathroom, staring at your reflection with red eyes and teeth-worn lips. Your reflection stares back, undeterred. You find no answers to your misery, so you stop looking and let all your thoughts flow down the drain. Being empty, after all, is better.

You go about your nightly routine with robotic grace, scrubbing and brushing with numbness. No amount of water can wash away the tiredness on your face, and so you give up. You quietly make your way out of the bathroom, peeking inside his bedroom to check if Yoongi had gone back to bed.

Instead, you find him sitting in front of his desk, his laptop closed and phone locked beside him. Trancelike, he stares listlessly at the wall with his fingernails in his mouth, an old habit that he has yet to break, but it only means that he’s deep in thought.

You clear your throat, breaking him from his stupor. “Can I borrow a pillow for the couch?” you ask timidly, the question you really want to ask just barely dangling from the tip of your tongue. Yoongi regards you for a moment, unmoving save for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“Do you want to be alone?” He answers your question with his own, gaze heavy upon your skin. He asks you that, but you know what he’s truly asking: Do you want to stay with me?

Like always, Yoongi always did have a penchant for knowing the true color of your heart, a skill you sometimes wished he didn’t have. You felt vulnerable around him, but rarely in a bad way. It never felt like he was intruding or meddling; it was always good and warm. To be known without the need to defend yourself.

“No, I don’t want to be alone,” you say, a simple truth. He nods in understanding, standing up from his chair and heads towards his bed, slipping under the rumpled blankets. He stares at you from underneath his covers, his hand patting the empty space beside him with a small smile.

“Then you don’t have to be alone,” he responds, another simple truth. You take the few short steps to reach his bed, climbing onto his bed and placing yourself as close to the edge as possible. Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving his hand haphazardly as he gestures for you to come closer.

“Are you really going to start getting shy with me? After you literally confessed you had a crush on me just an hour ago?” he teases, but his tone is tender. He grins his gummy smile when you cover your face in embarrassment, distracting you long enough to pull you gently towards him.

“I hate you,” you say. You don’t.

“I know,” he replies. He wraps an arm around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Do you want to talk?”

Your breathing grows shaky, your hands automatically grabbing fistfuls of his hoodie as you force yourself not to cry again. The simple truth is this: you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to be in pain right now. But you are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You feel like crawling inside yourself and never coming out again.

So instead, you tell him, “I had a good weekend. I really did.”

Yoongi hums sadly. “I know.”

“It was really good. I had so much fun with Namjoon,” you say. You sniffle a bit, but the tears don’t fall.

“I know.”

“Meeting his parents, going around town, eating everything I could ever want… It felt so good to just be with someone without wondering if they liked me back or not, without second-guessing every little thing. Because just being together was… enough. It didn’t matter that it was fake because it still felt real in a weird way. I didn’t have to pretend or hide my emotions around him.”

“I know.”

“But even then, I couldn’t help but think,” your breath hitches, and you clench your eyes shut until you see stars behind your eyelids. “I couldn’t help but think… that this weekend would end badly, one way or another. And maybe I was just destined to have every good thing in my life snatched away.”

“I know you think that, even though it’s not true,” Yoongi says. He holds you tighter, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Even then, why is it every time I’m just beginning to think that I can be happy, something always comes along the way to mess it all up? I was perfectly fine before all of this happened. Everything just went to shit the moment I started wanting more, when I started becoming selfish,” you say. You tilt your head upwards, forcing yourself to look at Yoongi and his sad eyes. “Everyone keeps telling me that I deserve to be happy, that I deserve to love myself. But is it bad that I want someone to love me too? Is it bad that my happiness lies with that desire?”

But for once, Yoongi doesn’t have a straight answer. He carefully loosens your grip around his hoodie, clasping your hands in his own just like before. He rubs circles into the back of your hand, before placing them over his heart. “Do you feel that?” he asks.

You nod your head, not fully understanding.

“This is a heart that loves you,” he explains, voice low but honest.

“But that’s… that’s not the same as…” you trail off. It’s not the same as Jungkook. Or Namjoon. Or…

He continues, “In the PC bang across the street, there is a heart that loves you. Somewhere else in Seoul, there are two hearts that love you. In Ilsan, there is another heart that loves you. But even then, I know it’s not quite the way you want it.”

“It’s because I’m selfish,” you say, ashamed.

“It’s because you know you’re allowed to want more,” he corrects kindly, wiping away a stray tear. “It’s not always a bad thing, you know.”

You laugh, the sound warbled even to your own ears. “I know,” you say. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes begin to droop, the fatigue from today weighing heavily on him. You feel as though you should be the same, but sleep evades you that night. “You know, if I wasn’t already emotionally fucked up right now, you could’ve made me fall in love with you again tonight.”

Yoongi closes his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “Is it working?” he mutters, words slurring slightly as he begins to drift off.

You answer him, but it falls on deaf ears. He falls asleep with you still in his arms, keeping you safe. It’s his presence that gives you the courage to respond to the texts you receive later that night, filled with one last burst of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find happiness elsewhere.

#btsghostie #bts social media au #bts scenarios #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #jungkook scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jungkook fake texts #namjoon fake texts #jungkook fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #bangtan

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