#now Shou’s mom has a fear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jina-juhi · 2 years ago

Text

the possibility of us.

pairing - yuta × female reader

word count - 7.7k

warnings - Panic attack (i tried to keep it short) penetration, protected sex, grinding, corruption kink, yuta is not angry and dom, controlling, over stim if i can say so? oral ( both receiving ) and literally everything that comes w this. choking!!!! yea. heh.

summary - You promised yourself you wouldn't fall for him, and you thought he could never fall for a girl like you. There was no way you both could be together, and even if there was one, your past wouldn't let you.

playlist

"eyes off you" - prettymuch

"phases" - prettymuch

"under the influence" - chris brown

"slow down" - chase atlantic

"show me" - black atlass

"safety net" - ariana grande

"used to this" - camila cabello

"chills, dark version" - mickey vallen

"3:00 am" - finding hope

"no guidance" - chris brown ft drake

Authors note:- so this whole thing is someone's request and i have not done justice to it. But here i am still hoping that they like it. I wrote like a whole seed to tree thing but it all got deleted and then I just left it to where my mind led me. I swear im working hard on my English vocab and duh sentence forming skills, but i hope you get the feelings mentioned below~~~

also if u wanna like request something~

m.list

so fucking loud.

The party was getting louder and overwhelming. You were quite alright just a few seconds back but it only takes a thought, to remember everything you want so badly to escape.

You danced like crazy, and drank. A lot. To forget. And now your head is hurting like hell and you don't know what to do or where to go, everything is spinning around and its all a blur. One thing that you could think of right now is your phone.

Searching your pocket and the couch you have been sitting on for so long, you can't find it. Its not lost its with Haewon, your friend. Sadly though your friend had to leave early due to some urgency, you thought it would be okay, you would manage but truly speaking, you're just a child. You try to be brave but being left alone is one of your biggest fears.

The fear kept building up since you were a kid and now it has settled in and made itself permanent in you. First it was your dad leaving you and your mom for a second family, then your mom in chase of her new life and then your so called first love who thought you were too fucked up to be loved. Leaving you like you were a crumbled up piece of paper ready to be dumped. Since then, you have not loved.

Not because you forgot, but because you're sacred.

You're scared everyone would leave you just like them and in the end, they'll move on, they'll live better but you're gonna be wounded. Trust me, you're already wounded enough to go out there and put a knife in your chest with your own hands. You know better or so you may think. That being alone, and not letting anyone in is the key to overcome this but truly, it is just making it worse. You can't help it.

You stumble on your way out of the once filled room with sweaty bodies, heels in one hands and a bottle of water in another. Your legs hurt more with every step you take, mentally cursing yourself for going absolutely reckless. You stand leaning against the main gate, supporting yourself so you don't fall in the wait of a cab.

You watch as tired bodies pass you by one by one. Everybody having someone to lean on to, you have a door. Not complaining but it feels sad sometimes not to have that one person who's always gonna stick by your side and other deep shit. It gets lonely. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you give up on waiting, shifting your wait from the gate to your feet, you start to walk in the direction of your home, finding it hard because of all the alcohol.

Not even two steps forward, you hear a faint voice calling your name, a voice you would recognise even after your death, a voice that could send you into overdrive in a mere millisecond. You find yourself panicking, why is he calling your name, he shouldn't be calling your name. He's supposed to be the mean guy like everybody says but he's good to you, he's supposed to be cold hearted but he's kind to you, he's supposed to ignore you like he does everybody else, but he treats you different.

Nakamoto Yuta is not supposed to know you.

But he does, and that's what got you falling for him. Hard. It began with a single look in the hallway, you were a fresher and he was in the senior year. You weren't allowed in the library back then which you didn't knew, so you went in to issue some books. A bunch of seniors saw you, scolded you for not abiding by the rules, they could have gone too far but Yuta kinda saved your ass in there. He'd been kind, which was very unlikely of him because they all called him cold-hearted, but you saw no such characters in him, he'd always been nice to you. No matter how much you refused you did had a minute crush on him since that day, which eventually turned in something you'd rather not give a name to.

You turn around to see a very familiar face, you could draw an exact replica of him with your eyes closed. You fumble, he hands are firmly griping you by your arms, holding you upright, "you okay?"

On usual days, if Yuta is taking the first floor hallway to get to his class, you'd take the third floor even if it means you'll be late by five. But on some very rare unusual day, when your hormones decide to throw random tantrums and make you realise how much dry of a pussy cat you have, you'd take the same hallway 0as he does in order to feed your brain with his mere looks alone, which would be enough for the next 5 to 6 days so you could go back on avoiding him, for the sake of your sanity.

Today, most probably was a usual day. Throughout the party, you made sure to not cross paths with him but always keeping in check as to where he was. He looked drop dead gorgeous today in that white tshirt of his, loose hair falling over his face blocking your sight of view but adding up to his perfection. Maybe, just maybe you might have been too obvious with that watching from afar game of yours you think he didn't notice but he does. He knows, he always has known. Boys like him, they always know.

"I just wanna go home." Your voice comes out tired and slurred, the alcohol in your system is probably damaging your sense of judgement, you're saying things you're not supposed to be saying.

"It isn't safe for you to go alone." His voice could make you fall to knees, yea that is the amount of power he holds on you. If he says your name one more time with that pretty mouth of his, you'd be curling into a ball and stay like that for the rest of your life because it would save you from the embarrassment of facing him with your red flushed face and needy eyes. Yes, you're a sucker for him and you don't like it. It's not about him it's about you. How could you risk everything again for just a crush. He's not just a crush. And what about the too fucked to be loved part? What if thats true? You can't risk losing Yuta.

"I'll tak- a cab or somethin you don't have to." Sitting in the same car, having him around you when you're drunk and could literally say anything is not a safe option, safer than going alone though but, it's just too much of a risk. He doesn't give you much choice when he says he's gonna drive you home and you're gonna be quite and let him. All those moments in which it was only him and you alone, all the amount of tension in the air there was is playing on repeat in your mind right now. What could possibly go wrong right? Nothing really went wrong before, but you also weren't drunk.

He takes you to his car, walking beside you still holding you tight. You didn't say but your stomach keeps hurting from time to time, probably from all the drinking you think. Opening the door for you he seats you in, placing his hand on your head carefully so you don't bump your head in the process.

You wait for him to come inside the car, hearts already beating fast. Don't know why but the alcohol has somehow made you more hornier and confident than before, especially him touching you played a major part it in. I mean your allowed to have a crush right, and even though you don't really want someone in your life right now you too want some, need some. How many days can you go without being touched? is two year a normal number?

"Put your seatbelts on." You were too disoriented to understand and implement, he repeats. "Oh!" You try to pull the seatbelt down, its stuck. Or maybe you're just weak. He notices you struggling. What happens next is not the first time, he does things like these often that do some unexplainable things to you. He would randomly place his hands on your shoulder in the middle of nowhere making you jump out of your skin, or rub his thumb against the back of your hand when you're having coffee with him. Play with the long strands of your hair, tangling then detangling them. Eyes contacts were definitely his thing, he's eyes would never leave yours during a conversation no matter how small or big, it made you hard to look at him and hold his gaze. These were some of those moments you couldn't get over even after trying hard.

This guy would be the cause of your death. All happens in one sudden move, he loosens his seatbelt, leaning over you extending his hand to reach the seatbelt that seemed to be really stuck, which he could have managed to pull from afar but no, he had to come close. Goosebumps from his wild eyes form on your skin when they watch you, like undressing you. Up and down and around. Biting and wetting his lips unnecessarily just to turn you on. You, on the other went stiff, for you it was like some one had pushed the pause button because every second felt so heavy, the weight of his gaze was so hard you felt your lungs crushing under the pressure. You could literally listen to your heart thumping in your ears like some one was playing a boombox on maximum volume. Afraid to take your eyes off of him, you just stare blankly at him, though that blank expression was more of a wanting one.

He knows what he's doing, the little curl on his lips showed that, and he knows the effect it has on you so he always over exaggerates everything that he does. You never stopping him is his motivation.

"Dumb girl" he mouths and secures your seatbelt. You gulp hard and release the breath you were holding in. Before you could register what had just happened, his hand was reaching for your forehead with a tissue. "You sure you good? you sweating like crazy!" poking his tongue he hands you the napkin, you pretend wipe your face, actually cursing him making you sweat like this. The ac is not broken, its his fault.

Its so fucking complicated it's like you've got this big crush which isn't even a crush anymore, and it is him who turned it into real damn feelings that you don't want. You know you're better off without him, without the feelings part. You're not ready for him. You'll never be. You know it still you always fall for him, even when you don't want to, even when you know someone's gonna get hurt in the end. It must be something that he said that got you off track. That got you thinking shit and feeling shit, you just can't ignore that anymore. A year is a long time to pretend that you absolutely do not adore Yuta. Its getting harder to pretend.

You crave him.

You need him.

You want him.

but no.

You're saying it as if he wants you too. The possibility of him falling for you is as rare as finding a galaxy in the night sky with naked eyes. Impossible. He's got high standards or maybe you're just not his type. He may play round and about but it's just a play. Not reality. And you've come to peace with that. You're not gonna try, you're not putting your heart at stake but if you do, just in case, there's no way you're gonna have your heart broken because after doing all the math and physics, the probable occurrence of this event called 'us' is zero, even after considering all the factors affecting.

There is a chance, but you wouldn't take it.

But even the greatest of the greatest laws have exceptions, don't they? Not everything can be calculated or predecided. Now who knew a day like today would come in which the drunk you would be driven home by a totally sober Yuta, and the very science that you thought was denying the possibility of you both being together is giving you an unforeseen factor that could change the whole equation, alchol. And alcohol, as we all know is a bitch.

Miserable looking you was sat on the passenger seat, hair tousled, body covered with sweat that glistened whenever light fell on it, lips dry and eyes tired. Though the heat you feel is undeniable, you try to not give in and have some sense of control over your mind that's floating in the pool of hormones mixed with alcohol right now. Pushing your hair back, you look out of the window, chasing the street lamps, counting them to keep you distracted. Clearing your mind, trying not to think anything. Not to feel anything, but the ache in the pit of your abdomen is growing with passing time. You see yuta roll down the window, his hair swiftly swaying with the breeze, what a sight to be witnessed, enough to distract you from your chosen distraction. Allowing yourself to calm down letting go of all the blood rush from before, you take a deep breath, sleep kind of taking over your body but the pain isn't allowing you to. Feeling even more uneasy, you shift a little in your seat pushing the feeling away. You try and concentrate on the moving landscapes, breathing deeply.

Yuta has been noticing you. Hes certain of what's bout to happen. He doesn't panic, he must have had the experience. He lets you take your time. Breathing helps for some time more, but doesn't prevent it. You have to throw up, "Can y- stop the car?"

In a minute, Yuta pulls over and you're out on the street seated by the footpath trying to empty your stomach. Yuta was seated by your side patiently with a water bottle in his hand, rubbing your back in sweet circular motion, and holding your hair back. "It doesn't wanna come out!"

You complain in a broken tone. "Who told you to drink that much when you can't handle it?" he says side eyeing you.

"It's hurting"

"Drink some water" And before you could, you were already throwing up. He calm you down, never once leaving your side, holding your hair back, he knows you're weak especially right now.

Cleaning up you pout, "I was feeling good"

"Now you're not, dumbass."

"Why do you always call me dumbass." you fake cry, more like dunk cry.

"Because you're too cute." He half chuckles.

"I don't wanna be cute." You snap at him. "I wanna be hot!" This makes him laugh. "And i wanna be cool and i wanna be free and i wanna be different and confident and happy and not dumb. I'm not dumb, though i like it when you call me dumb, but im not im not dumb!!"

He looks at you, amused, brows up like a puppy, smiling like a child at this new face of yours that, that he doesn't quite know how to describe it, but is adorable. "You don't talk this much when you're sober, you should drink often."

"And throw up like this every time."

"Yea maybe, it would be an our thing"

"An our thing?! Oh and i don't talk? you don't talk!"

"I don't because you don't, and i respect that."

"I- I don't? i do, i want to."

"What stops you then?" You think.

"Yuta." and you chuckle. "He makes me nervous."

His eyebrows furrowed for a second after suddenly listening to his name from your mouth. Conten and eager to know more, "Why?"

You sigh loudly, hiding your face in your hands, "It's hard to explain you know? It so fucking hard-!" by getting to the end of the sentence you actually break down into tears. Yuta sees this, suddenly extra concerned about your situation, he takes your face in his hands, cupping it, making you look at him. He has a soft expression on his face, a kind one. "hey there, don't cry, it's okay." he coos, wiping a tear away.

You sob a few times in his arms, trying to catch a breath. You don't know why and what you're saying, but it just flows out of your mouth, "I like him, i think i do, like so fuxking much. And it's sad because I don't think he likes me back, like why would he and even if he does, it's not gonna change the fact that im too fucked up to be loved."

He frowns, disappointed in you. Looking deep in your eyes, you try to hide away from him,"You're not girl. Look at me! you are capable of being loved"

"I don't think so. Even if i am, why will he ever like a girl like me!" You say blandly.

"What if he does?"

"You think he likes me?"

"All you need to do is ask."

"Why can't he!?" His hand leaves your face, wiping your fallen tears. Making you drink a little water with his hands, he slowly says, "what if he's afraid he would scare you away?"

You're tired eyes look into his bright one, searching for meanings you couldn't find. He helps you up, now that you've been feeling better than before. "Not if he holds me tight enough." Yuta doesn't reply to this rather his eyes glint, as if he was satisfied with your answer. As if he knew what to do now. He makes you seat in his care again, securing you with the seatbelt, too tired to even move your finger you let him guide you home.

Soon enough you were standing in front of your apartment, staring at the locked door and then staring at each other, "I'm sorry." you apologise because apparently, you lost the keys and no they're not with Haewon. "It's okay lets just go to my apartment." You nod your head, tip toeing behind him like a child, on the stares he lets you walk by yourself but watches out for you. In the car he gives you a bottle of electrolytes to sip on. In the lift of his apartment he practically have to carry your weight because your legs gave up walking and your brain stoped working.

_______

Wet kisses were planted down your spine, leaving a tinglish feeling behind. With every kiss your breath hitched a little more, eyes squeezed even harder. He plants a kiss at the bottom of your bare back. You arch your back, rolling your head back in pleasure. He stands up behind you, your knuckles turn whiter. He grips your hair in his fist, pushing your head back further enough to plant a small kiss on your forehead, then releasing the grip. Holding back a moan, you let a short breath out. Seeing your efforts at holding your moans back, he lands his palm flat against your clothed ass making you fall ahead on the counter. Smacking it hard again, making you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoes in his small bathroom. "Let me hear that sweet voice of yours baby." His voice calling you baby makes you dizzy, a whine leaves your lips without your permission, but on his command. Anything he wants you would do. Rubbing and groping your ass cheek he pulls you a little up by your hair, making you stand straight. He bites and nips at your earlobe. With his one hand squeezing your ass and his lips occupied by your ear, his other hands creeps it's way in front of you, dipping lower and lower until it cups your pussy, applying only slight pressure on your throbbing, untouched clit with his middle finger, just enough to take you over the edge. His hand is so big. He taps it, feather touches only. Once, twice and he continues slowly with long intervals in between the taps, leaving maroon marks on your shoulder. He only plays with you to make you wetter so you could take his dick, he's not letting you cum just yet, you deserve more, you deserve his dick and you deserve a grand climax, because you're his. Without much efforts he pushes you flat against the counter top, carefully though, he doesn't wanna hurt you. Delivering you pleasure is his only motive, and he does just that when he pulls your underwear down enough to expose your ass to him. You wiggle it a little in anticipation, and he gives in to your plea, after all it would be his pleasure to serve you. He greets you with a spank. And then another spank followed by intervals of him easing the pain and rubbing your ass cheeks untill you voice came out louder than the sound of his hand meeting your flesh. And in a blink of an eye your panty was slid all the way down and his thick girthy cock was being shoved in your already dripping aching hole. He was showing no mercy, fucking in and out of you at a demonic pace, looking like an angel! His long hair covering his face, slick because of sweat. He yanked you up with your hair causing you to scream out, still slamming in and out of you, this angle enabling him to go deeper. Sinfull voices getting louder and louder with every thrust, you hear him say your name, "y/n!" He sounds concerned. Furrowing your brows, "Yuta, don't stop!!" you whine as he slows down his pace.

Another loud call of your name forces you awake from your dream, panting heavily you adjust your vision to the lighting in the room. The first thing you see is Yutas face, concerned. Seeing him in your bedroom starled you, you hastily move back in defence, "what are you doing here" You question him in hoarse voice, your throat dry.

"It's my bedroom and you called my name. " he hands you a glass full of water, sitting by the bedside. That's when you realise the change in the intensity of light and the unfamiliarity of the duvet. Embarrassed, that you just dreamt of the guy sitting in front of you, you thank him for the water. You try to play the events of last night that might have led to this, nothing comes to your head. Its all a blank. You mind curse yourself, head hurting a little probably because of hangover. The second thing you notice is that the cloths you wore weren't yours, it was one of his black tshirts, as he owns many, and before you could look at him with an unquestionable question, "You were sober enough to change, I didn't." He answers. You relax your shoulders, sighing.

Just the very presence of him makes your head go into a never ending spiral. It was embarrassing looking like shit in front of him. You called my name, what the fuck. "Your head must be hurting?"

"Not really, I just need to take a shower." You say shaking your head confirming that you are alright.

He gets up.

You don't know what you did last night with him, or said but it feels like you pretty much fucked up in every way possible. You don't even know if the whole session was just a dream or you both actually really did something. You watch him uncover the curtains and opening the window so some fresh air could come in. He opens his cupboard taking out some pills, keeps them on the side table for you. Too busy thinking, you didn't hear whatever he said and watch him exit the room keeping a black tee on the chair.

whatever the fuck happened last night.

Taking the pills you went for a quick shower, wearing again one of his tshirt. Going in the another room, he already prepared lunch for you. You take the spoon in your hand, and it's some kind of soup. You smell it, the aroma filling you up. "You're not eating?"

"I am." he says sitting down beside you. You never knew he could cook, such a dream boy. You dip the spoon and circle it around in the bowl feeling anxious. "You talked quite a lot last night, you kno-" he bantered eyeing up playing with the spoon. Without a second thought you interjected, "What exactly did i say?" not looking at him.

"We have a lot of time to discuss that in detail, right now focus on eating." he poked, smirking. "Just tell if i said something offensive or you know, stupid I won't stay for long." Finally taking a sip of the soup while it's still hot. "Look outside, its raining." he says moving his head towards the window wanting you to look out. It indeed is raining, which means you will have to stay.

"So now that you're staying, why not have some fun? You play video games?" he asked cheerfully.

"No." you deadpanned.

"I knew, we'll watch a movie then." You look at him blond eyes, he's goofing around again.

He made popcorns, everything was set in front of his decent sized tv. It was like he was being extra cautious about everything, thinking twice before saying or doing anything. You on the other hand were embarrassed and awkward as hell. God only knows what beans you spilled last night, the possible things you could have that are coming to your brains are extreme. Plus he's not even telling.

He kept a decent distance between you two when he sat down on his small sofa, it was a small sofa so the decent amount means close enough to feel him right next to you. The movie was playing but neither of you were paying any attention to it. If it wasn't for the presence of the other, you could have both said the rain was distracting. Already tired and even more tired after forcing yourself to concentrate on the movie when exactly you dozed off to wonderland you didn't remember. One loud roar of thunder startled you back to life, "It's okey, just a thunder, go back to sleep." His words come in a low register, whispered close to your ear his hot breath almost tingling. You shift comfortably on what felt like a lap, shooting your eyes open you realised the position you were in and quickly sat up murmuring sorrys and fucks while trying to hide yourself, "When did i sleep!?" you mumbled, rubbing your eye, in order to avoid his.

"Sleep again you look tired." he pointed out looking at you. As if it wasn't awkward enough already for you to sleep in his goddamn lap. You shake your head, "No its good." You grin at him. His eyes never leave your frame. You shift to the left putting as much distance possible in between. He notices it. "Do I make you nervous?"

fuck yes.

It was like the oxygen was taken away from you. You tried breathing but it was useless. So this is one of the manys of what happened last night. "I said that?" He looks at you, nodding his head lights. "And they say one doesn't lie when there drunk." raising an eyebrow. Pressing your lips together you turn your head to the tv, "Let's not talk abo-" he didn't let you finish, "Answer me." He turns off the tv causing you to frown, "Answer!" You roll your eyes looking away again, it's hard maintaining eye contact right now. "What do you wanna hear?"

"Truth."

You look at him. For a minute nothing was spoken. You looked at him and he looked at you. And that was that. Many of the hardest one minutes of your life. You sigh out in defeat, giving up the eye game, he sits straight. "What else did i say last night?"

"Just that."

You laugh, "That can't possibly be true."

"Then you already know what you might have said last night." Wetting your lips, looking out of the windows, rain pouring harder by every passing hour, things getting more and more awkward. You could either tell him everything, and expect him to not act on it and be awkward Or you can just ask him to pretend last night never happened and let everything be awkward for the rest of the lives, because theres no way things are going back to normal, as if they ever were.

Clicking your tongue, "Will you drink hot chocolate?" The only way to avoid a conversation is a hot chocolate. It works most of the times. All you wanted to do was escape his vicinity.

You stand by the window in his small kitchen, rain drizzles over your face as it falls down, rainy seasons are gloomy, you think. Cold air rushes in leaving you cold and shivering, alone, in the middle of the darkness in this room with your thoughts which are way too louder than your capacity to hear. You don't know why but him knowing how you feel about him just complicates everything by a thousand fold. And what if he wants to be with you? What will you do then? Yes you like him but, you can't risk being in a relationship again. You've already lied to yourself everyday by believing that you'll not love him, but now you do. And the fact that last night will fuxk everything up between you two is saddening because you are going to say no and he will not be very appreciative.

If; he likes you back.

You feel his presence behind you. Not too close but not too far. You call out his name, he confirms. After a moment you speak, "Yes you make me nervous." trying to speak loud and clear but you voice only manages to come out in whispers. You hear him cackle. "I know." His deep voice goes straight down to your core, leaving you weak in your knees, he's standing just behind you. You feel his breath on your ear making you hold your breath, not moving even one inch. How desperately you want his hands on you and how badly he wants to sqeeze you in his arms and tell you everything he's been keeping inside for so long. Only if you knew. Only if you saw his face right now, looked into his eyes. You would know he wants you too, he always has. Since the day he saw you on your first day he craved you. Every day being by your side wasn't enough but oh he was just so scared to lose you after being told everything you've been through by your batchmates. He figured your past won't allow you to. So he kept quite. Falling in love with you everytime you looked at him, everytime you smiled at himz shyed away from him. He fell in love with the way you lived and laughed and cried. Just like you fell for him.

"Take a chance with me?" he spoke lowly, carefully. You turned around, facing him. Shaking your head no caused the tears to fall down that were building in your eyes. You kept shaking you head moving back untill your back touched wall. You sobbed, no you were practically crying like a child in front of him only it was on mute. He approaches you coming closer and closer it was like you lost your mind and your senses gave up on working. "I can't" you managed to speak aloud.

"Why?" he asks trying to stop your crying at the same time. Holding you by shoulders, gently stroking up and down, calming. "You don't know what happened."

He lifts your tear stained face up by his fingers, making you look at him, "I'm willing to know." he pushes further, caging you between him and the wall. "And if I don't understand, make me!" it's hard to understand the expression on his face. He's sad but, he's also angry. And frustrated and hurt but at the same time, gentle and understanding and concerned. Hands moving to cup your face, "You want me to confess first right? I love you okay? I have ever since god know when. And i know you do too so why the fuck can't you just let go and let me!?" The last part he says through greeted teeth while punching the wall behind you, you jump out in fear, "Fuck Im sorry." he apologizes under his breath, realising he's being to harsh.

He moves in closer, connecting his forehead with yours, "I'm sorry." he breathes out heavily, he's crying. He's hurting. "I can't help but think of what we could be." You open your eyes to look at him, tilting your face up a little, closing in the gap even more. His eyes are tight shut. "I can't help but think about you." He opens his eyes to look into your dark ones, getting lost. You both breathe heavily, hearts beating at the same pace, passion shooting through your veins. He closes the inches left in between you too, both of you close your eyes, nose touching, breathing in the air only the other can provide. His lips linger close to yours, quivering, afraid to harm you. Afraid to scare you. Chest heaving up and down in synchrony, lips ready melt into each other, only a moment apart, only a touch apart, still apart.

He draws a sharp breath in moving away but only slightly. You look down, the tension in the air is so heavy it could crush your weight under it. Tears still falling down like a waterfall.

"Please don't say no." he speaks in the quietness. You shook your head again, whispering "Don't cry."

He wiped it as quickly as it fell. "I'm sorry" you say, trying to move past him, but he stops you holding your hand, making you turn around. Gripping you face with only one hand he crashes his lips on yours, you pause. You didn't try pulling away, not because his grip was too tight but you didn't wanted to. When you moved your lips, he moved his. He held you by your waist with his other arm. Making you dizzy, holding you close you could feel his beating heart against your chest. Head tilted to deepen the kiss, body crushing into each other like planets colliding, teeth clashing like two swords in a battlefield, hands roaming the bodies freely, holding on to each other like you were to lose them the very next second. He could taste your tears in his mouth. He could taste his life. It was beautiful, it was perfect. In that moment you felt you could let go of everything that was holding you back, you past didn't matter in that moment. You saw one chance, one possibility.

Struggling to stand straight, he walks your over to the counter never leaving your lips. He slows it down, letting you breathe. Softly sucking your swollen lips. He takes your lower lip between his teeth, he bites it so hard you whince in pain, which only makes him lower his hands and squeeze your butt, pulling you lower body to meet his, grinding into each other, desperate for each other, not getting enough and wanting more and more. The visible bulge in his bottoms evidently hit the right spots, making you lose control, making you go wild and grind yourself into him too. The height difference makes it so much easier like his body was made keeping you in mind so you both could fit each other perfectly. His hands travel north, tangling your hair and pulling them down, which makes your head go back, exposing your neck to him. His lips leave yours, sucking in a new space found, leaving deep red marks, marking you as his.

It took one single thought to pull you out of it, again. You try to push him away, struggling at first, he backs off, and the moment he does you leave, "So you're going to ignore me now?" he says panting, making you stop and turn back. He looks at the red mark on your neck that he created. He chuckles, "Thats the plan? huh? Ain't gonna work." you're hurting him you know it. You turn around to leave, "You're gonna come back."

And you leave.

You just leave.

And like that, 5 months pass. The day turns into night and night into day, you go to college and come back home then go to college again. You see him every day and he sees you everyday and like strangers you cross paths. He started a new job, you heard. You started having panic attacks, he heard.

Sit and stare out of the window, thinking of all that you could have done differently. You thought not being with him or anybody would make things alright. Being alone would make your head clear and a little less messed up and then maybe you can go out date freely without having to be afraid of what might go wrong. But it seems like it all backfired on you. Now you have one more thing to forget, one more thing to carry everyday.

You thought you would get better, but little did you know it was him who was making you better. You thought you would get over him but you really do love him. You can't get him out of your head and he's gone, you fucked it all up. You broke his heart which ended up breaking you too.

Sitting on the couch in the parties is the only thing you've been doing lately. How long can someone pretend that they're okay? A month? A year? You've been doing it since your childhood. You're tired of pretending and tired of hoping that it's all gonna get better. You can't even pretend anymore to be honest, it's evident you do that you miss him. You've been sitting here for 3 hours, just sitting not drinking. What if you get drunk? Who's gonna drive you home you have no one. He's here too. Not drinking. Not looking at you, not thinking about you, rather having fun actually. he moved on?

Why wouldn't he, why shouldn't he? It wasn't his fault. You're the only one to blame. He cried, he begged you to stay to not say no, but you didn't listen to him. Why should he wait on someone like you. You push all your hair to one side letting them cover your face in an attempt to hide from Yuta, you can't help but watch him closely, laughing and talking and everything, he's faking it. You know him this much to know which smiles he is faking. And suddenly he is looking at you. Earnestly. 4 minutes of intense gaze and then you give up. Breathing already uneven and your palm is sweating, you know what's gonna come. You throw your head back to rest on the sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling.

I shouldn't have said no.

I should have stayed.

Why did I do it.

I knew you i wrong.

I broke his heart.

It's all my fault.

Something is really wrong with me.

I made him cry.

He really loved me, how could you!

"Fuck."

The walls were closing in on you. It was going dark before your eyes, you couldn't shut your brain up. It was like you were trying to breathe but couldn't like someone evacuated your lungs out of oxygen or maybe there wasn't any oxygen left in the air to breathe. Head was hurting like someone was constructing a fucking road on it. You were panicking, heart beating at an abnormally high rate, sweat collecting at the low of your back. You lose complete sense of the surroundings. You try to get up but can't, so you just sit there on the sofa in the middle of a crowded room, trying to breath, with your head down to your knees. The music and the people get too loud, it felt like they were screaming your name you shut your eyes and cover your ears with your hands, just praying this would pass away soon.

A jacket was thrown over you, over your head. He was rubbing your back up and down, in an attempt to soothe you. He makes you shift from the position you were in to a position where your head was down on his knees, and his jacket still covering your face. His hand creeps under the jacket to caress your hair and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, trying to make you focus on him, and on his voice.

You start crying in his lap, under his touch listening his voice after so many days, you missed him. His heart aches seeing you like this, watching you deteriorating day by day. He hated that he couldn't do anything, couldn't help you through it but he knew better. He knew nothing he could have said or done would have made you realise that running away was not an option, you have to face it, face your past and get over it, let go. And let love. Because what is love is not a risk? what is love if not taking a shot in the dark? what is love if not a mere chance? what is love if not a distinct possibility? Him trying would have just made you push him away even more! He wouldn't let that happen, so he waited on love. He waited on you. . He calls your name, twice "listen to my voice okay? It's okay, you're okay! Just try to breathe." You nod your head, the tears disappearing in the fabric of his jeans. "Let's go out okay?" He asks, after five minutes or so he walks you out of the room. Breathing the fresh night air somehow calms your nerves but you're still hyperventilating. He makes you side on the boundary wall that's pretty low. Your still a mess, eyes watering and breaths hitch you murmur small sorrys to him. The crying is just making it all worse, he noticed. Taking your face in his hands making you look straight into his eyes, "Breathe in." he asks you to and you do "hold." you hold your breath. "Release." you let go. At first it was hard but with his help you gained control again.

"I'm so sorry Yuta, i was i was trying to protec- protect you. I didn't wanted to hurt you i swear on my life." You sob. He nods, coming face to face "I know, you did your best."

"But I made you cry."

"because i couldn't see you hurting, also you left but i knew you were gonna come back."

"I tried that day, i wanted to stay i wanted to be with you but i couldn't i just couldn't bring myself up to believe that i was deserving to hold you. I-

I didn't deserve you, i still- "

"Don't complete that sentence or I'm gonna be real mad at you."

"no listen to me i don't have anything to give you I'm just I'm a messed up piece of shit i would've just wasted your time and energy."

"Well then you're my messed up piece of shit, whom i get to take care of because i want nothing but only you. And i totally wanna waste my time with you."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be, Its all good now"

You took a deep breath. Nothing is gonna change the fact that you hurt him, but he was wise enough to know you weren't intentionally trying to. Love. "I don't know what else to say but i love you"

"And that's more than enough babe."

"Ba-be?"

"I've been dying to call you that you know?"

"Why are you so good to me?" He just shrugs and ruffles your hair. "Wanna complete watching that movie together?" You sigh in relief nodding your head a big yes.

You thought he was taking you to watch a movie, but it was a whole different scene the moment you entered his apartment. He changed the lights. They are a warm shade of yellow now. He did put the movie on, but you weren't paying any attention to it. Your head was hurting because of the sudden attack you had at the party, so he insisted on sleeping instead.

You tried sleeping, but the smell of his perfume on the bed kept you awake. makes you reckless. made your thoughts run wild. You remember how it felt the last time you were here, in his apartment. The tension, the dream, the heat, the kiss. Not the fighting part of the whole situation, but the part where you were wholly in love with him. The part where you wanted to take a chance The part where you wanted to give him your all.

Feeling too overdriven by your train of thoughts, you get out of bed. You follow the noise that was coming from the kitchen to find Yuta making something. "What are you doing at this hour of the night?" You speak softly, standing by the door frame. He looks at you unfazed. "I assumed you were sleeping," I said. "The bedsheets smell like you." You walk behind him slowly, his eyes following your every step. "Quite distracting."

"If you weren't drunk enough the last time you were here."

"Then I wouldn't have been here."

"Fact," he says, nodding."Try it," he says, handing you the cup. He emptied whatever he was making, tea. "Since when did you start drinking tea?" you question, placing the cup down, trying to sit on the counter. He helps you jump. "Since hot chocolate started reminding me of you."

"I'm sorry," you whisper quietly.

"You don't have to do it, and you shouldn't waste your time!" He scolds you, taking the empty cup from your hands and placing it in the sink. "I'll say it as long as I need to."

"Useless "

Then how can I make it up to you? You can only tell. "

"Endless ways I can think of right now." There was a sudden change in the way he spoke. The hoarseness in his voice lingered in the air and warmth creeped into his eyes. The coldness in the air was replaced by this heavy heat of want that was engulfing you and him alive. "Like?"

Keeping your voice at a hearable volume, you make space between your legs by separating them, which was taken by him the very next second, "like finishing what we started." " You know what's coming next." The movie? " You put on the most innocent face you ever had in your life, looking him directly in the eyes, playing with him like he plays with you. "Now now, what a disappointment you are," he says while tapping your cheek with his index finger. Biting your lower lip, you say, "Someone used to call me dumb..."

"You're playing the wrong game, babe." He warns, tracing your jaw line and down your neck. He then lines your clavicle up and down, "You're gonna lose." He takes both his hands behind your back, pulling you closer with a jerk. His face was only inches away now, his lower body already in contact. You could feel him hardening against your pussy. He was this close.

"What if I want to lose?" You answer, your voice barely above a whisper, the taste of the tea still in your mouth, sweet, but you want his taste now. He chuckles lowly, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his voice firm and demanding, unlike yours. "Well then, wait for me in the bedroom."

It was new and exciting to get to see this side of him. Unlike his normal caring and soft self, this Yuta knew what he wanted. He is precious and just, and he needs no explanation for anything he does. "Oh and babe, undies off but keep my t-shirt on." You follow his command, going straight to the bedroom and removing your underwear and tossing it aside.

You wait in anticipation, but don't quite know what to do. You were pacing around the room like a mouse chased by a cat. Butterflies in your stomach won't quiet down. The mere thought of what might happen causes goosebumps on your skin.Sitting at the edge of the bed, you check the time. It's 12:30 in the morning and that's when he enters.

All of them changed. His demeanour was that of a wolf out on a hunt. And you were his prey. He shut the door behind him. His eyes were darker and his skin appeared a little bit colder than before. It's not like there's a third person but. You get up on your feet and just stand there in the middle of the room, a thousand thoughts in your mind playing every possible scenario that could happen. He drags a chair by its arm, situating it just in front of you, and sits down on it like a king.

"Come ahead!" he orders. You start walking in an instant, almost tripping. His voice alone makes your insides curl and your pussy clench around nothing. Wetness is leaking down.

"You really want to go down this road?" Changing his expression suddenly, his eyes glistened with a golden tint, probably because of the light coming in from the window. You try to play along, "Aren't we already down?" He smiles. "You can stop me anytime you don't feel comfortable, okay?" You nod, melting into his softness. How can this person do it? switching between personalities in mere seconds.

"I doubt I'll stop you." You push a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a little closer so your legs touch the chair. His legs were separated, and you were in the middle. The only source of light in the room was the street light, perfectly lighting up his face and your body. He lifts an eyebrow at what you just said, sitting upright in his chair. "Confident much? I like that. It won't be for too long though. " You shiver when his hands rub your outer thigh. He was waiting for a reply from you, but he was correct. The moment his hands touched your bare skin, all the confidence you were mustering up to talk back was thrown out of the window. His hands travel south and leave your skin hot, high, and dry.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Being touched by someone, by him after so many years, you don't think you can last in this game for even a minute.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

You manage an "uhhm..." as you brace yourself for whatever he's about to do. He relaxes in his chair. With his eyebrows lifting up and down, he asks you to sit on the bed with a simple but powerful command. "Sit."

You sit at the edge of the bed, your legs shut tight, your hands sweaty, and your mouth dry.

"Let me see you." You didn't quite hear him, but you heard him. It was just so shockingly sudden.

"Huh?" you stutter under his strong gaze.

"Lost already." He deadpanned. He was mocking you, and he knows it's affected you. "Spread your legs, sweetheart."

On his command, your agape mouth was shut, your legs already following his order, deciding to move on their own as your mind had given up on thinking ages ago.

The show hasn't even started yet, and he's enjoying himself watching your timidity in every move you make. "No, actually, shift a little back. Make yourself comfortable." He gets up and shifts his chair forward as you move back on the bed. He got a glimpse of your core while you were shifting. You know he did because you saw the expression change on his face. Right there in that split second, you saw him almost lose and regain his composure.

Not letting him speak again, you spread your legs wide and open. The loose t-shirt that was covering you shifts up automatically, leaving you uncovered for him to devour you with his eyes alone. You looked at him and he looked at your core, shamelessly. This somehow gave you some kind of power over him. He is too weak for you. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes and breathing deeply but fast.

The moment he opened his eyes and met yours, your soul definitely left your body. Your breath hitched, and you tried to look away from him, but his gaze was so hard it locked yours. You couldn't. "Touch yourself." You clench at his words, and he sees that.

"Be more specific." That was bold of you to say that. He almost choked on your words. You may be the shy girl who is affected by small things, but you are also a freak. Although you do want to lose, you'd still give it your best shot.

He poked his tongue under his cheek, nodding his head in approval of your regained confidence. "Touch your clit with only one finger and don't move it."

Very precise. You do as he says. There is only one finger on your clit, and there is no movement at all.

"Tap it." You do, lifting your finger up and keeping it gently on your throbbing clit. You clench again the moment your fingers touch, gasping out silently. "Keep on doing it until I say stop." He bites his lower lip as he watches you enjoy yourself at his command. The fact that you were doing it while he was watching you with his sinful gaze has already got you gripping the sheets and curling your toes.

You do it slowly, sensually, watching him watch you. He's affected in ways he can't explain and in ways you can't fathom. Feeling good, you take your lower lip between your teeth and close your eyes. You get more comfortable as you fully submit to the task you were given. You let your head hang freely, trying to be more vocal, but letting out soft whimpers only. You didn't want to give him too much just yet.

"Stop."

You hiss at him. Drawing in a sharp breath, you bite your lip harshly in agression, not wanting to stop but stopping anyway. You look forward to him, his dilated pupils eyeing you like a scavenger, making you light-headed. "Enjoying yourself too much?"

You nod slowly, your gaze never leaving his, and it drives him insane.

Warmth creeps beneath your skin when he gets up from his chair and motions for you to come forward. You get on your knees, the t-shirt covers you again and you crawl to him to the edge of the bed to where he was standing. Sitting on your heels, you watch him loosen his belt. Then he undoes the waist button and unzips his pants. He slides them down, revealing white boxers and his untamed bulge, which he somehow managed to keep inside and hidden.

You're dizzy by just imagining the size of him. You're unsure of what to do. Should you help him undress himself or should you just sit back and anticipate? Like a lost child, you wait for him to tell you. He asks a question instead. "I suppose you don't know how to give a blow job." Feeling belittled, you shook your head, looking up at him, "perfect." He compliments.

He slid the boxers down, his hard, thick and girthy dixk slapping against his abdomen, now free of any restrictions, standing tall and proud in front of you. You were too busy focusing on his perfection that you failed to keep up. He had already removed his shirt, and was now standing completely naked in front of you for the very first time. It's nerve awakening.

That is when you actually felt the gravity of the situation. It wasn't just some game you were playing; it was actually happening. You and he were actually happening. You fucking confessed to him yesterday! Yuta thought he was going to be angry and not talk to you at all because you broke his heart, but it's the complete opposite situation, he just couldn't be angry at you. Yuta knows better, good for you. He loves you. You love him and all your dreams about him were about to come true, he was going to make you his.

"Fuck!" You didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Like what you see? I bet you dreamt about me. " It was like you were hypnotised by him or you lost control of yourself. It was like you were high on some drug. Or maybe you were high on him because you weren't thinking before nodding your head when he asked you that question.

"What was I doing in them?" He takes his cock in his hands and starts palming it. You swear you saw it grow even bigger in size, as if it already wasn't. Too astonished to see the action just inches away from your eyes, you answer, "You were fucking me raw. From behind." You look up and gulp, "And you were spanking me, pulling my hair, kissing me, and marking me yours," you say in a small voice, so shameless, so pure.

"Get up on your knees." You do, inching yourself closer to him; he's still stroking his length in between. You look down, a new angle to admire him. You place your hand on his, your hand moving up and down his shaft with his. He slows down. "Want me to do all those things for you? Want me to touch you? " You looked up, mouth parted and eyes glistening to meet his dark ones. "Want me to pull your hair? want me to kiss you? fuxk you?"

You nod frantically consumed by your arousal, his voice travelling straight to your untouched, unlooked, un-taken-careof core, your wetness literally sliding down your thigh. It's hurtful.

"Oh baby, don't be that cute or I'll just have to fuck you right now." He says this restlessly before connecting his lips with yours. You let out a sigh of relief before giving into him. It was kind of the first physical contact he made after getting in this room, which has been nothing but hard for him to keep his hands away from you. He deepens the kiss. Tilting your face to the left, he locks his fingers in your hair, pulling them. The kiss was sloppy and messed up and just perfect, laced with desire and lust in every bit of it. Your tongues collided, your teeth clashed; you both just couldn't get enough of each other. Your hands rested on his neck, gripping tightly for support. He bites your lower lip making you gasp, then sucks it like candy.

You reciprocate his every move. You try to, but you are getting out of breath. His hands travel down your back, lifting the t-shirt up and gripping your ass, squeezing it hard. You say his name aloud, breaking the kiss, "Yuta!" Your forehead rested on his shoulder while he kissed and nipped at your ear while kneading you, "Yes baby, you like it?" You hum in response, lifting your head up and looking at him, holding him close. "Rub your clit for me, baby."

You bite your lower lip, lowering your hands and legs, your gaze never leaving his. You rub yourself up and down and in circles. He can't really see, but he knows. It makes his dick twitch. You let out a loud, breathy, dragged out moan, setting up a pace, "mhmmm shit."

He mimics that moan, his eyes burning with desire and lust. "Mhmmm shit... Nice and slow, yea baby, so good for me." You let out another breathy moan, closing your eyes but quietly this time, not wanting him to mock you again.

His finger was placed on yours, on the one that was rubbing circles on your clit. You jump, in shock or excitement, you don't know. Your brain seizes the movement of your finger completely, "Why did you stop?" he takes over. His fingers move up and down, making yours move as well. Resting his forehead on yours, he continues to play with you, making you whimper with every flick.

He moves your hands aside, your face contouring in pleasure when his fingers touch you, bare and raw, with nothing in between. There were chills running down your lower back, your stomach tightening with the pleasure he was delivering. Slowing down a little, he collects your wetness in his fingers, bringing it to your mouth to suck on it. You lick it first, then swirl your tongue around it, and then take it in completely, sucking like a lollipop.

You kiss him with your flavour in your mouth. His hands find their way back between your legs, rubbing your clit, up and down and sideways, the wetness making his movements sloppy, his fingers gliding frictionless on your sweet swollen nub. His finger circles your opening before carefully dipping it inside of you. You purr in his ear while his lips ghost over the exposed skin of your neck. His breath hits you every time he exhales, absolutely burning your skin to a hot red. You clench around his finger, not letting it escape. Well, you finally have something to clench around this time. He stays inside of you for awhile.

"Rub yourself again." And in no time, you're following his words, bringing your right hand to circle your clit. Now desperate to release, you don't go for slow motion but rather set a high pace.

"Slow it down."

You might be in disagreement looking at him but he gives you one look and you're slowing your fingers down. He pulls his finger out just to push it in again, and again, and again. You try to match your movements with his, setting a slow rhythm. You go up every time he pushes in, and that's how he drives you to your first orgasm of the night.

You've been at the edge for so long, you're coming undone with only one finger. You stop circling yourself and hold him to keep yourself up while his fingers are still working you up, slow and steady, riding you through it and pushing you into the beginning of the next one.

His finger was buried up to his knucles, deep in you. He places his palm flat against your mound. You press into his touch. Moving your hips to grind into his hand, breathing harshly, he supports your body and whispers praises in your ear about how good you are and the amazing job you're doing. Just when you thought you could cum again, he makes you stop and removes his hand from between your legs.

Licking his finger clean, he asks you to get on your hands and knees, "face down ass up, fast!" he said while pumping himself. The site of his hardened veiny dick was hard to look at. It was begging for your attention, but you weren't really confident with that. Instead of following his order, you stare at him palming himself. You look at him with a question written in your eyes. He understands what you're asking for but doesn't really acknowledge it. "Please." You kneel in front of him. He rolls his eyes, but gives you a look of content.

"My girl wants a taste."

You smile when he calls you his girl, "Yes. Your girl wants a taste." emphasis on the, "your girl."

When you bring your face closer and look up at him, ready to take him in, he curses under his breath, holding your head in place with his hands clenching your hair in a fist, in the softest manner. "Open your mouth." You do, also giving a little extra you stick your tongue out for him.

He places the tip of his dick on your tongue, gently sliding it in against the surface. You close your lips around it. He slides further deep into your mouth, controlling himself to not push in too deep. Very slowly, he draws it out, leaving you empty and wanting more of him. He lets you take a taste, though. Slithering against your tongue in swift motions.

You swirl your tongue around his tip, which is already leaking. You try to take him deeper but his grip won't let you he only fucks his tip in. Finally bringing up the courage to take him into your small hands, you wrap your hand around the base of it, applying slight pleasure, moving your hand up and down his shaft.

"Just like that." His voice boosts your confidence. He lets you play with him with your innocent little hands which are like a tease to him, until he can't take it anymore. Seeing you determined, his grip on your hair tightens and with his other hand, he moves your hands aside. He yanks your head back. "Open wider" He growls, as you do. And he slams his cock deeper than before. The sounds you produce are embarrassing. He goes deeper, causing you to gag, your heartbeat fastening even more all of a sudden. You mumble protest, telling him to remove himself and wrap your hand around his wrist, taking a hold of it. He withdraws himself, you cough a little, breathing deeply, then open your mouth again to take him in. He grins, "Now that's my baby!" tightening his fist around your hair and pulling your head a little more up.

He slides his dick down again, slowly and gently going deeper. He wasn't even going deep to be honest; he was just at the brim, yet your mouth was full of him. Hair messed up and eyes watery, swollen lips wrapped around his girthy member, saliva trailing down your neck, only acting as a lubricant. When he finally siezes his dick after seeing your tousled state and didn't want to cum just yet, you try to regain your breath. Holding your hair back, not pulling anymore, rather soothing your nerves down. Wiping a tear away, he devours your glistening lips with his, not taking any time to deepen it. Pushing you down on the bed, he hovers over you, keeping his knee in between your legs, very very close to your aching to be touched core. His lips leave yours, connecting to your still aching jaw. He leaves a warm wet trail of kisses down your neck and everywhere in between. Sloppy kisses were placed along your clavicle, purposely sucking and leaving red marks around, making you hiss in pain and take his name.

His hands roam up and down your body, making sure there isn't a single inch left to be touched and explored by him. His hand stretched the tee you were wearing, revealing only the upper part of your breast. He kitten licks the area, then bites the flesh and soothes it with a kiss, making every part of your body his, messed up, burning hot and so beautiful.

His lips go south, taking your hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking on it through the thin fabric of the tee. While playing with the other, Your lower body automatically starts grinding on his knee, trying to obtain some friction, but it seems to be not working, but you swear the amount of heat dissipating from just the mere contact was enough to melt gold and silver.

He is too intoxicated just by the way you feel against his lips. He brings himself back to reality to perform the second main job. He gets off the bed only to sink down on his knees in front of you. His face only a few licks away from your heat, you move closer to his mouth. He separates your legs further away, only able to look at you in full bloom this once. Drunk already, he dives in for a sip, and he is not disappointed. A long lick from the bottom of your warmth till up to your clitoris got your toes curling. While he laps at your juices, you curse his name a hundred times. He flicks your clit with his tongue, then sinks it as deep as it can go into you while nuzzling his nose to brush against your clit, it's a perfect blend to which he adds his fingers, the middle one he pushes in first. Out he comes to push it in 2 knuckles deep and then finally sink it deeper, curling it inside, making you roll your eyes back in pure bliss. You're feeling extremely. He adds another finger. That hurts a little but is soon replaced with pleasure. He works you up to your second orgasm, but doesn't let you cum just yet.

His hands leave your body at once, and you hold back a moan, trying not to sound desperate. His figure walks across the room where he must have kept his wallet.

You hear a wrapper being torn, goosebumps crawl up on your skin. He takes no time to return. "Make room for me." He gets on the bed, splitting your legs wider. He lets you rest in a comfortable position, keeping a pillow under your head. He drags his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices and spreading them on his member. You look up at the ceiling, aftain, excited, impatient. The yellow lights are forming abstract patterns on the wall. You feel his tip at your entrance, and soon he pushes it in with optimum pressure. You contract your muscles and your eyes shut tightly at the feeling. It's one of pain and fear and not pleasure. "Yuta, it hurts." You breathe out and call his name, your hands trying to grab his shoulders. He pushes in further, rather slowly this time while towering over you and coming face to-face, "Good."

You lift your hips up a little to ease out the passage, and he bottoms out. He stays like that for a minute. No words were exchanged, just the feelings being felt. His breaths are uneven matching with yours. He connects your foreheads together. You don't know if his eyes are closed or open. They're closed. You inhale him in as he exhales you.

"Fuck," he growls just before abruptly slamming into you, "Fuck."

And then it continues, and it hurts no more. He's fucking you hard and slow, going deep and deeper. Making you cry out every time he hits that spot. His voice is husky and low, sending shivers dancing up and down your body. You whimper under him. Your sounds, mixed with the slickness of your bodies crashing into each other, were playing on repeat; warmth and lust in the shade of red were decorating the room, and the orange glitched tint was illuminating the perfect parts of him and you.

He goes from a painfully slow to a pleasurably fast pace, no mercy he was showing, abusing your little cunt with his big thick dick, driving all the pleasure out for himself as he should, while giving you exactly what you wanted. So good. It feels so good to finally have him inside you, using you, destroying you to only mend you as whole, as his.

He's fucks you so right.

He lifts his body up a little, supported by his hands over you, looking at your contoured face. He slaps your cheek playfully in an attempt to get you to open your eyes and look at him while he fuxks the shit out of you. He grabs your hands and pins them behind your head. Oh, he knows you are going to come, but it doesn't make him stop or slow down. He continues fuxking you harder and harder until you come undone under him. Your body convulses. Waves of pleasure travel through your nerves, hitting your brain. Your vision go black and, for a brief moment, you lose complete sense of reality, being in a state of complete euphoria. You've never had an orgasm like this before.

And the best part of it all is that he doesn't stop.

He's drilling in and out of you at a monsteric pace. Your body writhes under him, trying to squirm its way out of his grip, but all these go in vain when his fingers wrap around your dainty neck, applying only the right amount of pressure to hold you down and keep your body fixed in its place.

When he loses control, his merciless pace becomes even more merciless, banging his head hard, fast, and deep all at once. His thrusts became sloppy and rushed. Chasing after his high, he goes feral. You watch him clench his jaw in pleasure, the sweat rolling down making his hair stick to his skin, his low grunts and humming sound. He's trying to contain himself. What a sight. It makes you want to cum again.

The pleasure starts building at the pit of your stomach again. You wrap both your hands around his hand, the one that was choking you, while rocking your hips back and forth, trying to match him, looking into his eyes, speaking with an unspoken language.

And that's how he fuckls you into believing that you are enough, for him and for yourself. That you are capable of being loved and taken care of. That even if you're messy and stupid and dumb, you're still perfect. That you can let go and you can trust. That you can be.

Be his.

And then he explodes inside of you. He couldn't be more grateful, couldn't be more precise in saying that his wait was worth it. You were worth it. He rubs you into your third orgasm. And after that, nothing was like it was before.

All of you changed.

All of you changed when he kissed you and told you that he loved you so much. All of you changed when you saw him clean you up in the after hours. All of you changed when he fell asleep beside you, taking you into his arms.

All of you changed when you met him for the first time.

______

did not proof read, but hope u liked it, The constructive criticism is accepted here, do leave a follow ~

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ncitygirls · 3 years ago

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dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

#jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct au #ncitygirls

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

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Something to Think About

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 2.0k

[ ☀︎ fluff ]

themes : tooth rotting sweetness & domesticity

bio : You surprise Shouto, and he surprises you right back.

author’s note : alright so this might be a day late but i’m gonna pretend that it’s still father’s day :))) happy father’s day daddy icyhot <3

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂houto is in the kitchen. Contrary to popular belief, he knows how to make more than just soba. Well, at least you hope it’s not soba that he’s making. If that’s the case, it’ll be your fourth meal of cold noodles this week. His back is to you, eyes concentrated on the cutting board atop the marble countertop beneath him, scallions crunching as they’re sliced through with precision.

“Baby?” You start, lingering by the kitchen island with your hands behind your back.

Shouto turns to look at you, a small smile forming on his lips at just the sight of you. He places the knife down, wiping off his slender fingers on the towel strewn over his shoulder. “Hey, love. Didn’t hear you come in— you just get home from work?” He says as he closes the space between you two, hands itching to be on you after not having seen you all day.

Nodding with a hum, your arms wrap around his neck, melting into his broad chest. You can feel the firmness of his muscles through his thin t-shirt, and you grin as a feeling of completeness washes over you. Just simply being in your husband's arms after a long day makes all your worries fade away, his embrace like a gentle tide lapping at you, and cleansing your shore of the stress that is littered there.

Taking his face in your hand, he leans down to press his lips to yours, the metal of your wedding rings cool against his warm cheek. His kiss is soft and sweet, and as you part, he sneaks another peck onto the corner of your mouth. “How was your day?” He whispers, a hand wandering down to splay his fingers at the top of your pants, dipping underneath to press the tips of the digits into your skin.

“It was good,” you answer honestly, leaning back to lock eyes with his stunning gray and cerulean gaze, “but much better now that I’m home, with you.”

Shouto chuckles, stealing another swift kiss before he pulls away, his voice deep and full of affection. “You are so cheesy, my love.” He turns back to the cutting board, the scallions protesting as he finishes chopping them.

Taking a seat on one of the stools at the island, you bite your lip, hands going to fumble through your purse. Where is it… you know you put it in here somewhere…

Your husband throws the end of the stalks into the compost bin, washing the onion juice off his hands at the sink in front of you. His eyes take in your movements with curiosity, and he winks at you when you catch his gaze.

Finally your fingers find the tip of the envelope, and you beam as you slide it out of the confines of your bag. “Hey! I have something for you,” you giggle at the thought of him opening your gift, even if it’s nothing grand. Holding out the envelope to him, he cocks his head to the side as he takes it from you, coming to stand diagonal to you around the island counter.

Shouto doesn’t really know what to expect, though from examining your beaming expression, he’s not fearful to open it. So he does, smirking at you as he rips the blue paper, watching the excitement radiate off of you before he looks down at the card.

Happy Father’s Day!

His heart stops.

Brain going blank, lips parting as his jaw unhinges slightly. And then, his mind is shooting out a million thoughts all at once.

There’s only one reason why you’d be giving him a Father’s Day card—

You’re pregnant?!

You— and him— you’re going to have a baby?

He’s going to be a dad?

And you, you’re going to be a mom?

You’re going to have his baby?

There’s going to be a baby?

A thousand emotions swirl and burst in his chest, like wild, explosive fireworks lighting up a night sky. He feels like he can’t breathe, like the ground has fallen in underneath him, and yet he’s floating here, stuck midair.

“Open it!” You instruct eagerly, completely unaware of the barrage of thoughts that have just pummeled the poor man.

With shaky hands, he opens the card, his lungs completely still as he holds onto his breath, unable to speak.

Thanks for being the most paw-some dad there is! Love, Beans

Shouto nearly collapses as he realizes that the card is supposed to be from your cat. He lets out a trembling breath, eyes frantically flickering over the card again, and again. Just to make sure.

Just to make sure.

��It’s funny, right?” You laugh, blissfully ignorant of the rollercoaster Shouto feels like he’s just been thrown onto; one with no safety bars or seatbelts that demands he holds onto the handles for dear life.

“Y-Yeah.” It slithers out of him, barely even audible. His throat is dry, chest tight as he tries his best to put a name to the hollow feeling inside of him right now.

You look at him in concern, reaching out to rub the side of his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” You murmur, confused as to why his mood would suddenly flip like this. “I’m sorry Beans couldn’t think of a better pun, she’s not very creative y’know?”

As if on cue, Beans enters the kitchen, tail straight in the air as she rubs her head against your ankle, and then her flank on Shouto’s leg.

Jostled out of his consuming thoughts, he reaches down to scratch behind her ear for a moment, brow furrowed. When he stands back up, he makes his way to the stool next to you, sliding into it before he places the card on the counter, and takes your hands in his. His thumbs rub over your knuckles, but he remains silent, lost in thought again.

Craning your neck to get a better view of his pensive expression, you squeeze his hands gently. “Shou?”

At the sound of his name, he locks eyes with you, and for the tiniest second, you swear you catch a distant sadness there. He squeezes your hands back, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes forming on his lips. He takes a long, deep breath before he speaks. “I’m fine, love. I just— I think I misunderstood at first is all.”

You look at him, bewildered, your mouth opening. “Misunder—” It’s then that your eyes go wide with shock, darting to the front of the card before landing back on him. “Oh my god, Shouto— I am so sorry. That must’ve scared the shit outta you,” you groan, slipping a hand from his to cradle your forehead in shame. “I am so stupid, I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey,” he cuts in, warm fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. When your eyes meet his, your stomach bursts with butterflies at his determined expression. “You’re not stupid. It was a cute idea… The execution was a bit questionable, but y’know, Beans isn’t the brightest.”

You smile half-heartedly at that, and Shouto takes your chin in his palm, long fingers stroking your jaw.

“I won’t lie, you did scare me,” he says in a gentle tone, looking at you with sincerity. “I was completely frozen for one whole second. And then, I… wasn’t.”

Licking your lips, you place your hand on his knee, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

Shouto’s looking at you softly, thoughtful eyes peering into you. “For those few seconds, I thought that you were pregnant. And even though the thought initially scared the shit out of me, I don’t know— I… I felt… excited.”

He’s watching every change in your expression carefully, trying to gauge your response to his words. He takes in your eyes widening, your lips parting in shock. The two of you have talked about this before, about if you’d ever want kids. And at the time, you’d agreed that you both wanted a family, sometime in the future. But that was years ago now, before you were even engaged— it seems like it’s been forever since then.

“I’m not saying I want to jump into anything blindly,” Shouto hurries to find the right words, fearful that you’re thinking he expects you to instantly be ready for such a commitment. “I just mean that, if you were to get pregnant… would it be such a bad thing? I know we said we’d wait to have kids, but that was a while ago, and… now’s as good a time as any, right? You just got promoted, crime is down so my hero work is more steady. I love you, and I know you love me— our home would be the best environment for a baby; full of love and support. I know you’d make the most incredible mother. You’re the only one I can imagine doing this with, my love.”

His heart starts to thump against his ribs when you smile at him, your eyes looking a little glassy. “Shouto,” you whimper, words failing you.

He squeezes your hand again, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, angel. I don’t mean to spring this on you, I just… I needed to tell you. Because for those ten seconds, I felt like I was truly the luckiest person in existence. I already am the luckiest, because I have you. But the premise of you carrying my baby, I— it just filled me with so much joy.”

There’s a brief pause before you force yourself to speak, and it comes out more like a croak. “I don’t even know what to say...” you whisper, tears gathering along your bottom lashes.

Shouto smiles at you, his own eyes misty as he wipes away a tear that runs down your cheek. “Say you’ll think about it, love. Give it some time, we’re in no rush. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

You nod, feeling choked up all of the sudden. The idea of expanding your family had been on the back-burner for so long; now that Shouto’s brought up the reality of it, you’re emotional. And excited, too. “Okay,” you sniffle, pulling on him until he brings you into his lap, shuffling you into his warm embrace. Nuzzling your face into his neck, you breathe him in, trying to steady your rapidly-beating heart. “You smell like onions,” you complain with a watery laugh, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry,” he chuckles, moving the cooking towel off his shoulder. A large, warm hand runs up and down your spine, his lips touching your forehead delicately. “Some strong scallions I was cutting,” he remarks.

Leaning back, you can’t stop the grin from splitting your lips, your fingers reaching up to wipe the lone tear that escapes despite his best efforts. “I love you,” you murmur, nose touching his as you go in for another kiss.

“I love you too,” he mumbles against your mouth, lips warm and slow on yours. A hand wanders down to rest on your stomach as you kiss, his warmth seeping through the material of your blouse.

You smile against his lips, heart full and nearly bursting at the seams. So he wants to have a baby, huh? Certainly something to think about. Though a part of you already knows that you won’t be stuck just thinking about it for too long.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

sorpriseeee!! look guys, i can be soft! and no i didnt write this to clear my conscience of the sin from last night whaaa

i know i rarely write sfw things but idk i’ve been thinking of expanding into fluff and angst lately too (not sayin it’ll always be sfw LOL) so, please let me know if you enjoyed!! <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#shouto todoroki fic #shouto todoroki fluff #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki fic #shoto todoroki fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #mha fic #mha fluff #mha x reader #bnha fic #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #my fics

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professionalwritingnerd · 3 years ago

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LMK OC: Ai Cheng

I've nicknamed her Monkey Mom, since she's my version of MK's mom in the Four Monkey's AU (and in general, pretty much). This isn't her full detailed reference, just her flats for now, but she's so adorable, I was already excited to post her. I'll post a full reference with her toyhouse in the future.

Info that I have for her right now under the cut.

TW: mention of domestic violence, abuse, premature birth. Nothing graphic, but mentions.

Full Name: Cheng Ai (程爱) (Or Ai Cheng for us Westerners)

Age: Early 40's

Gender: Cisgender Female

Birthdate: February 18th (Pisces/Aquarius)

Ethnicity: Chinese/Tibetan/Filipino

Occupations: Works three separate part-time jobs. Assistant cook, cleaner, and waitress and Pigsy's, but also works at an upscale jewelry store in the richer part of the city, and at a bookstore in the middle-class section of the city.

Extremely gentle, soft-spoken, caring, and compassionate. Very patient with others, but has little tolerance for yelling or people speaking over others. Can be a little too passive and quiet for her own good, confidence squashed by years of abuse. The only occasions where she'll roar are when her children are the issue.

Stressed AF but doing her best. Will sacrifice her left lung if it gave her kids two seconds' worth of oxygen. MK got a lot of his selflessness from her. Terrified of expressing frustration with her kids (ESPECIALLY MK) for fear of accidentally scaring them or reminding them of Shou, her ex-husband and MK's biological father.

Is most comfortable being somewhat sassy with her son, Tang, and Pigsy, since she's known them the longest.

Childhood friends with Tang and Pigsy, Tang and Ai having bonded over similar interests on the first day, and the two of them being the only two willing to invite Pigsy into their circle after he transferred in.

Met Shou in high school. Naive, sheltered and extremely in love, Ai rushed into their relationship against the warnings she received from Tang, Pigsy, and her family. He love-bombed the hell out of her, but like any good narc, he dropped his mask once he had her locked in.

Fell into years of emotional and physical abuse from Shou before and after she became pregnant with MK. Stress and severe anxiety caused her to go into labor early, giving birth to MK prematurely.

Also has a young daughter younger than MK, but how young has yet to be determined. Still designing her.

Currently either dating or married to Tang, but i have to do some timeline math to determine which.

ANYWAY I LOVE AI I WANNA WRITE DRABBLES AND FANFICS WITH HER IN THEM MY INBOX IS OPEN

#tw: domestic abuse mention #tw: abuse mention #lmk oc: ai cheng #lmk oc #lego monkie kid #i love ai #i love her somuch

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Boy (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff, and a lil spice ;), No quirk!AU

Summary: You finally get to see your childhood friend Shouto after years of being separated only to find out he’s completely changed.

BGM: “Younger” by Ruel

Word count: 2,781

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: God this photo fucked me up good when I first saw it.

I saw this picture on my search for images for my last Todo post aaaaand yeah, pretty self explanatory. I got to thinking, what if this poor baby finally snapped one day and was like "FUCK ENDEAVOR AND HIS ENTIRE PROGRAM, IM NOBODY'S MASTERPIECE" and he went the complete opposite direction. So enjoy a little bit of OOC Todoroki and a bit of a longer post than my usual stuff!

I’m really really sorry about not updating in the past few days. I was really swamped by college work and studying, and I was mentally exhausted and physically tired every day. Today wasn’t my day and I almost had a breakdown because a lot of things piled up in me, but I had to pull myself together somehow. Hopefully, after this week, I’ll go back to a somewhat regular posting schedule. Thanks for being patient with me guys, I really appreciate it :)

When my mom told me Shouto will be going to the same high school as me, I was expecting the same buttoned-up, shy, good boy from elementary school. Oh boy, was I wrong.

The boy I bump into in the hallway definitely looks like Shouto, but the only thing that's the same is his mismatched hair and eyes. Everything else about him was much different. His entire energy was different, even from the fraction of a second I focused on his face.

"Shouto?" I call when he's about to brush past me.

I don't think he's expecting someone to know him on the first day, pausing and looking down curiously.

The most shocking feature of all is the scar on his left side, a red blotch that covers the left side of his face, starkly contrasting his brilliant turquoise eye; a single ray of light in a scarlet sky.

As I'm gaping at the puckered skin, his eyebrows furrowing at my face as recognition slowly dawns on him. "(Y/n)?"

I'm relieved that he at least remembers me. "Yeah, hey." I don't really know what to do now. My first instinct is to hug him, but something tells me he isn't a fan of that sort of thing anymore. There's a coldness between us that's thick as a knife. "How have you been?"

"Fine," he answers curtly. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, leaning back in a way that seems uncharacteristic of him and more like a ruffian.

Does his not want to talk to me? I don't blame him, I haven't been in his life for a good eight years. "How are your parents?"

His jaw clenches. "Fine."

Oh. I struck a nerve. "Do you wanna catch up at lunch? What class are you in?"

"1-A." Overjoyed that we share the same class, I'm about to open my mouth, but he interjects, "But I don't think we should talk." That was the last thing he said before he strolls past me.

I'm stunned, following his receding back through the sea of students. I guess I shouldn't have brought up his parents when I know it's a sensitive topic, but I didn't know what else to say. And it's probably awkward to see someone you used to be close to talk to you again, but the least he could've been is polite. That's saying something, because Shouto was always the polite child.

Something is terribly wrong here.

Shouto has definitely changed since we were younger. He's become a delinquent.

He never even shows up to class. After our little encounter, he was slumped in his seat until the teacher finished role call, then he just got up and walked out in the middle of class and never came back. In all the days after that, his seat remained empty even at the beginning of the day.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. What if he happened to get sick and had to stay home? Then I saw his signature mismatched tuft of hair walking back home in the school yard, and I knew he was skipping.

After a whole two weeks passed of him skipping, I had enough. The Shouto I know would never cut class even if his life depended on it. During lunch, I went looking for him in the group of other delinquent kids in the back of the school.

"Todoroki?" the ash-blond ringleader ruffles his hair and scoffs, "Idiot must be off somewhere by himself like the damn loner he is. He picked a fight with me and I almost beat his ass into oblivion!"

I ball my fists up, more angry at Shouto than the group of boys eyeing me like a pack of wolves. "You guys are useless," I mumble, about to turn away from them.

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, sweetie?" the honey blond with a black streak in his hair smoothly wraps an arm around me. "He probably doesn't care about you, you deserve someone else who'll give you his time."

"Fuck off, who said you can touch me?" I shove his arm away and step back.

"Calm down there," the red head with sharp teeth taunts with a smirk, "You're getting a bit defensive. You sure you don't need help looking for your little prince?"

"I'm fine on my own, thanks," I huff, turning around to go look for Shouto elsewhere.

"Maybe I'll come with you," the overly-friendly boy blocks my way again. "If he's not your boyfriend, maybe we can get together sometime?"

"Not interested. Out of my way, Pikachu reject." I try to side-step him, but the leader grabs the back of my collar and whips me around so I'm face to face with his bared teeth.

"You're a bit rude, aren't you? Should I pull your head out your ass for you?" His crimson eyes glare his murderous intent into me.

I hold my ground, the anger against my irresponsible friend more powerful than any fear of this hothead possibly hurting me. "Don't act so tough if your talk is cheap."

He cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with me. "I'll show you cheap talk. Try waking up next week after I'm done with you!" he snarls.

I mirror his expression. I don't mind throwing hands at this guy if I have to, blood rushing through me to prepare for the fist fight. "I dare you-!"

"Enough, (Y/n)."

I can feel his presence right behind me even though he doesn't physically touch me.

Scarlet eyes shift behind me. "Took you long enough, hot shot. Your friend has just as much spunk as you, I'll kick both your asses!"

"I'd like to see you try, Bakugou," Shouto responds coldly. "We both know who'd win." Keeping his gaze locked on the aggressive male, he harshly grabs my arm and hauls me away. "Let's go."

I'm fuming with anger when we're back inside the building. I turn on him when he finally releases me, but he's already starting down the hall. "Don't walk away from me! We need to talk!" I stomp over, following him to an abandoned classroom. "What the hell is wrong with you?! First of all, you were a real ass when I talked to you last week. Second of all, you're not even coming to class like you should. And now you're already picking fights with that idiot out there? What's gotten into you Shouto?!"

"You were about to get into a fight as well. You should thank me," he comments coldly, slipping into a desk with books open on top.

"I could've handled it just fine without you! The only reason I was even there talking to them was because I was looking for you!" I hover over him, glaring down so he can tell how angry I am. "You'e skipped class all week, this isn't like you at all! How are you supposed to catch-?"

One glance down the the open books shows all the material we've been going over in class. He's already caught up to today's lesson, writing notes in his book and ignoring my presence. The entire setup makes me angrier. "I don't understand you, Shouto. What kind of act are you trying to pull? You're not a delinquent, why are you trying to act like one for everyone else? Or is this all because you're just trying to ignore me?"

His pencil stops moving and it slams down onto the desk. "A lot happened since you left, (Y/n)," the boy responds. His quivering voice indicates restriction of intense emotion.

The hurt is apparent across his entire face, calming me down. My gaze lingers on the left side of his features, over the eye that somehow looks perpetually sad. "How did you get that scar, Shouto?"

The boy's eyebrows furrow. "My father never let up on me after you left, and he got worse. My mother couldn't handle fighting him on her own anymore. One day, she snapped, told me how unsightly my left side was, and pouring boiling water over my face." His large hand gingerly covers his reddened skin. "And my bastard father put her in a mental institution after that. He did this."

My heart aches for my childhood friend, the boy I took care of and listened to all his problems. I can't imagine how much pain Rei was going through. For her to have lost it, she must've held such a heavy burden. When I had to move away, I felt so guilty about leaving him with all his troubles. He had no one else to reach out to and it was snatched from him. There wasn't a day I stopped thinking and worrying over him. I reach to take his hand and offer comfort. "Shou-"

Shouto bolts up from his seat, his taller figure hunching over mine, features screwed up in distaste. "You weren't there when I needed you most."

I'm taken back, hurt more than anything. "It's not my fault, we were so much younger, I didn't have a choice but to go with my parents."

A dark chuckle erupts from his lips, dismissing my excuses. "It's fine. It happened, I've learned to deal with it."

I'm about to blow my top with this kid. "Yeah, you've dealt really well, haven't you?" I roll my eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My mouth gapes, letting out a sputtered scoff. "You're kidding. Just look at you! You're pretending to be someone you're not! You and I both know you were never the bad boy type when we were kids. You're the slightly awkward, naturally smart, driven, hardworking-"

"I was only those things because my father forced them on me," he passes by me, crossing his arms. "I don't want to be anything that bastard wants anymore. And if you can't see that, then we were never friends in the first place."

That's a stab in the chest. How can he say that we were never friends when we used to do everything together? A surge of fury rushing through me, I grab his arm to keep him from moving any farther. "You love watching superhero cartoons, your favorite was All Might. Sometimes, you're so damn lazy that instead of doing homework when you came home, you would sneak in a nap before your dad came home to see you slacking off. Your favorite food in the entire world is cold soba. You don't like extremely sweet desserts. You've always been insecure about how strange your mismatched hair and eyes look, but I always had to assure you that you're still the most handsome guy in our class."

Shouto halfway turns around to look at me.

"If we weren't friends, why do I know so much about you?" I take another bold step towards him, softening at the underlying pain etched into his features. "I know you always hated the way your dad expects so much from you. The only thing you ever wanted in your childhood was to be normal. The pressure finally crumbled down on you and your mom, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through it. But you shouldn't abandon everything that you are. You took after your mom more than your dad; you're sometimes a sassy son of a bitch, but you're kind and have a deep respect for people you admire. You have a natural sense of humor that you don't even know you have. You care about the people you're close to, you only struggle with communicating how you feel sometimes."

His lips part slightly, processing everything I just showered onto him. Guilt eventually creeps up on him, choosing to rub the back of his neck. "You...always did know just what to say."

I smirk and engulf him into my long-awaited hug. "Who else would put you back in your place?"

His arms hesitantly wrap around my body, the act of sharing body warmth strange yet familiar to him. It's a small victory, but I'm relieved that we're back on speaking terms. I'm ready to resume protecting him as I should.

Shouto shifts in our embrace. "You said...I struggle with telling people how I feel...?" he mumbles sheepishly near my ear.

My boy perks with confusion. "Yeah, even when we first-"

"Would it suffice if..."

Before I can turn to search his face for what he could be implying, his grip around me loosens as he pulls back to look at me, one of his warm hands resting against my cheek. His face looms right in front of me, my breath catching in surprise, before he presses his lips to mine softly. The weightlessness in my stomach is unmistakable.

As quick and unexpected as it came, it also left, Shouto's half lidded gaze resting on me from a small distance away. All I can do is stare off dazed, still trying to process what just happened.

He leans back against the nearest desk in the front row. "I guess I should've asked first." I can see his cheeks and his ears turn almost as flushed as the color of his hair despite his hand covering half his face to hide it. "But it was the only way I can think to get my point across without stumbling over words."

My heart still flutters trying to recover back to normal, my knees shaking as I lean against the teacher's desk for stability. I resist the urge to touch my lips like a shocked schoolgirl, but I'm still trying to process the whole thing. "You know," I cough, "We did already kiss when we were like...five, so this wasn't really our first. But I don't usually count that-"

The intense color fades from his face almost at once, a darkness creeping into his gaze. "Then," he pins me back into the desk, hands on both sides of the wood to trap me, "I shouldn't have any qualms about doing it again."

Contrasting from his strong setup, his next kiss is still shy and hesitant. After exchanging a couple more tentative lip-caresses that still make my head spin, he's gotten his feet wet enough to go harder, establishing a rhythm between us. As his kisses intensify, his hands reach up to cup both sides of my nape, fingers tangling in my hair desperately and tilting my head up for a better angle. My own hands grasp the collar of his uniform, pulling him closer into the heat of the moment.

His body pushes me practically into sitting on top of the desk, moving one of his knees between my legs as he lets ones of his hands roam down to grip my waist. The sudden tug elicits a minute gasp, allowing Shouto to nip at my bottom lip before tugging my head back to trail soft kisses down my jaw. My fingers thread through his soft locks, letting him massage my neck with his mouth.

"W-Where did you learn all this?" I breathe out unsteadily, my breath refusing to return.

He straightens up and captures my lips in another slow kiss. "You'll never know." Another one. "I've admittedly imagined this for a while." The next kiss is much deeper, a hum vibrating from his chest as his fingers dig into my side again. "You're special, so dear." His mumbles between kisses become more incoherent as his kisses become messy.

"Shouto." I finally manage to push him away for me to breathe and calm my dizzy head. Both of us are panting. His half-lidded eyes and flushed face tempt me, but the fear of someone walking by suddenly alerts in my mind. "Someone might see us. Besides, isn't there something you need to say?"

His brow lifts. "I'm...sorry for being rude to you last week."

"That was needed, too," I chuckle, "But there's something else."

Confusion crosses his features. "Have I done something else wrong?"

My hands slide down to grip his hands. "Don't you need to ask me to date you officially?"

The tint of rose on his cheeks intensifies a shade. "I thought it was clear already..."

Another chuckle bubbles from my lips and I lean up to kiss his warm cheek. "I'll let it pass because I want to date you too." His face begins to light up in joy, but I push off from the desk and tow him out of the room. "But you have to start coming to class again."

Shouto catches up to keep pace with me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Done."

"And you need to see a therapist, Mr. Bad Boy."

He breaks out into a smile at that nickname. "I'll think about it."

#todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #no quirks au #todoroki angst #angst to fluff #gender neutral reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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kiriluvbot · 4 years ago

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lvr boy

todoroki has a rough day, and sero attempts to make him feel better. both boys figure out that distractions aren’t always the answer to emotional distress.

—

han !!: hey shou i saw u leave dinner early are u ok?

shou <3: yeah, just a bit drained. sorry i left without saying anything.

han !!: hun u don’t need to apologize, i jus wanna make sure ur doin ok !!

han !!: is there anything i can do?

shou <3: come over ?

han !!: u bet, On my way!

han !!: ive got an idea to cheer u up bb

and that’s how hanta sero got to be hanging from his tape on the rafters directly outside shouto todoroki’s room, over his balcony.

han !!: i’m outside <3

don’t ask him how the physics works; he doesn’t know either. hanta imagined what it must be like to be the fictional american hero, spiderman, and tried to stick his tape from the most secure place on the roof and dangled downward, getting into position as fast as he could so he’d be ready when shouto peeled open the door leading to his balcony.

except he hadn’t exactly said he would be on the balcony.

and it’s cold outside. hanta shivers as a rush of wind sends him waving like a flag outside shouto’s room. he feels more and more ridiculous the longer he sits—dangles?— here, with all the blood rushing to his head. what's taking shouto so long?

inside, shouto is peering into the hall, looking for a familiar head of dark hair. he’s tired. he needs hanta to be able to properly recharge. he misses hanta. he sort of wants to cry, sort of wants to melt into the floor, sort of wants hanta to sweep him up and make him forget everything else in the world.

he frowns when he finds no one outside his door. “hanta?”

where is he?

shouto glances over his shoulder, at the doors leading to his balcony, at the thick curtains blocking out the moonlight.

surely not...

but it’s hanta, and he had said he’d be outside. hanta comes up with the craziest ideas sometimes. but how could he have gotten out there?

shouto shakes his head once, crosses the room with apprehension. pulling back the curtain, shouto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of hanta sero outside his door, hanging upside down with a tight grip on his tape, the widest, goofiest smile on his face.

shouto slides open the door, the rush of cool wind sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. even being this close to hanta makes him stand up a little taller, already absorbing energy to start recharging. he’s a magnet. hanta is a ball of pure, unhinged light and love. hanta is a source of comfort, a place to come home to. shouto can’t stop his growing smile as it mirrors hanta’s own.

“there you are,” shouto breathes. that overwhelming weight that just kept building through the day starts to lay off, little by little.

“how’s this for a surprise?” hanta’s waving a bit in the wind. his cheeks, nose, and ears are dusted pink. inky black hair waves with him, curling at the ends. his eyes are dark pools full of stars, full of adoration, full of mischief.

shouto could—should—kiss him.

“i’m always surprised with you, hanta,” shouto says, laughing lightly as he steps out of his room, bare feet on the wood of the balcony. they’re close to eye level, and shouto raises his hands, almost unsure, and presses them to hanta’s grinning cheeks.

“gotta keep my boy on his toes, you know?” hanta tries to lean in the closer shouto gets like a moth to a flame, curious eyes searching shouto’s face for any tells of fatigue, of sickness, of sadness. he only finds sleepy awe. “gotta change things up every now and then.”

the two toned boy plants a ghost of a kiss to hanta’s forehead. it’s not enough. “this must be a spiderman thing,” shouto muses. “i know how much you like that guy.”

“naturally. he’s the coolest,” hanta giggles at that, and shouto’s fractured heart starts to mend. his cracked facade from spending the whole day strung out, anxious for nothing, begins to crumble at his feet. hanta has a knack for pulling shouto completely apart, for piecing him wholly together, for taking the pressure off shouto’s shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

“i remember the movie we watched together,” shouto hums, thumbs grazing over hanta’s cheekbones. “there was a scene similar to this, right?”

hanta’s skin burns under his fingers. shouto watches his adam’s apple dip as he swallows. “something like it, yeah.”

shouto meets his eye, recognizes that mischievous look flickering over his features. he chases the light, takes in every single detail of hanta’s face, every detail he has memorized like constellations at this point, every detail he wants to place a kiss to, every detail he never gets tired of.

then, shouto gets on his tippy toes and tilts forward, holding hanta’s face, and kisses his lover boy, slow and sweet. it’s strange kissing someone upside down, but hanta kisses him back like he’s been anxiously waiting for it to come, like he’ll never get enough.

it’s not enough.

when shouto pulls back, hanta is smiling again, dizzy and red faced. in a single, fluid movement, hanta flips and releases the hold on his tape. he lands, steady on his feet in front of shouto, wind blown hair framing his face like a priceless painting. his grin, his pure, radiating joy and goodness outshines the moon, as if the sun instead resides inside his chest.

he’s too good for me.

hanta’s eyes widen as shouto takes his reddening hands and kisses those, too. kisses his palms. his knuckles. shouto has always loved hanta’s hands; clever and sneaky hands, sure and gentle hands.

he knows the patterns of hanta’s hands like the back of his own, knows the life lines, the callouses, the old scar between his middle and pointer finger knuckles. he knows the pattern of all his moles and freckles and the way they creep up his arms, up his neck, down his chest like a fairy danced to their favorite song over his skin.

after a sharp intake of breath, hanta asks, “are you alright, shou?”

not really. i’m asking for a distraction. do you think a distraction will make it all go away? all this pressure on my chest?

the sincerity of his voice causes shouto to stop in his tracks.

i didn't sleep well at all. i had a nightmare about failing the hero course. i was late to class.

he looks up, blue and gray falling on gravitational black.

i got a 60 on our history test today and i locked myself in the bathroom for three minutes trying to remind myself it’s just one single test.

hanta’s smile is dipping.

bakugo was yelling more than usual. aizawa and iida both told me i was off my game. i spilled my drink in my lap at lunch.

he grips shouto’s fingers and pulls him closer. always closer.

i had to cancel my plans with my mom this friday to retake the test i bombed. i cried after we got off the phone.

shouto has to tilt his head up. hanta sure has gotten tall.

he feels childish trying to explain why literally nothing had gone his way today, why every small thing made him want to curl up and cry for hours. “just—today was a bit overwhelming. everything going wrong and getting too loud, you know? but i’m feeling better.”

now that you’re here.

when hanta leans into his space again, shouto unconsciously warms up the air around them.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

my coffee spilled over the edge of the cup this morning and hurt my fingers and i had to sit on the floor for six and a half minutes trying to suck the tears back into my eyes.

“not really,” shouto answers. it’s not a lie.

“you’re sure?”

his breath is warm on shouto’s face, eyes wide and sincere.

“i’m sure.”

if we talk about it i’m almost certain i’ll cry again.

hanta seems to buy it. his lip ticks upward just a notch. that curiosity turns sly as he releases shouto from his hold, as his hands dance up and over the shorter boy’s shoulders, over his shoulder blades, down his spine.

“totally sure?”

the space between is no space and too much all at once. it’s not enough.

“absolutely sure.” just kiss me already, you maniac.

finally, finally, hanta’s lips find his own, right side up and certain. stars explode in shouto’s chest, behind his eyes. supernova as his fingers dip into hanta’s hair, as he melts under the attention and contact, on his tippy toes.

all too soon, hanta pulls back, humming all the while. shouto nearly pouts at the loss until hanta dips down, those searching hands taking shouto’s thighs.

oh.

the smaller boy squeaks, though he’ll always deny it later, as hanta picks him up and wraps shouto’s legs around his waist.

oh.

he’s… carrying him.

this is new.

“we’re goin’ inside,” is the only explanation hanta offers. his head whips back up in a flurry of glittering hair and a puckish grin. always glittering. always grinning.

shouto holds on tightly, arms around around hanta’s shoulders. he keeps his mouth shut for fear of saying something completely stupid. hanta is talking, though shouto’s been too focused on the muscles of his back beneath his hands to really know what he said. his chin presses into shouto’s collar. shouto wishes it were his lips instead. god.

still holding on to shouto, with those goddamn hands on shouto’s thighs—i’m gonna die—hanta shuts the door and closes the curtain like he’s seen shouto do a thousand times during his nightly shut in routine. shouto considers asking to be let down but—but his hands on his thighs—i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, this is where it ends—

hanta’s shampoo smells like grapefruit. his hair brushes shouto’s cheek. he wants to bury his face in it, wants to move it to the side and explore every freckle dusting his smooth skin, wants to kiss every single place he can reach—good god, he’s gonna die.

then, incredibly, horribly, boldly, hanta sits at the edge of shouto’s bed. he readjusts so shouto is sitting properly in his lap, legs still wrapped around his waist. those goddamn hands slide down the sides of shouto’s thighs, over the fabric of his pajama shorts, just barely grazing exposed skin, like hanta knows. shouto lifts his head from the crook in hanta’s neck to finally get a good look at him in this soft lighting.

hanta’s cheeks are still painted pink.

there’s so much contact. broad shoulders beneath his hands. solid chest if he drags his hands down. narrow waist if he goes even further, strong abs from swinging through the air and keeping his balance. his hands on shouto’s thighs.

any and all rational thoughts shouto may have had exit stage right.

“this okay?” he asks.

shouto responds with a single nod of his head. he’s distracted, alright.

that’s a good enough answer for hanta. the raven haired boy pressed forward once again, closing the gap, aiming for shouto’s lips but landing right next to them. shouto can feel his smile against his skin. his chest is tight, his fingers subconsciously twisting the ends of hanta’s wavy hair.

everything slows down.

“there’s a dimple here when you smile, you know?” hanta murmurs, a cold pointer finger tapping the spot just to the left of his mouth. he kisses that spot. it’s horribly and surprisingly tender, plucking shouto’s weakened heart strings. “have i ever told you how much i love that dimple?”

“i don’t think so.” his head tilts back.

his lips dip beneath shouto’s jaw. “what about this? surely i’ve told you how much i love this.” his kiss is warm, his laughter tickling as he says, “the freckles here look like the little dipper.”

shouto’s eyes flutter closed as lips press under his ear.

“the little dipper, hm?”

hanta hums and shouto can feel it vibrate through his chest. he pulls back a bit, brings shouto’s scarred hero-in-training hands up to his lips and kisses all ten fingers, all ten knuckles, slowly, making sure not to skip a single one.

“and your hands,” hanta murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on the soft part of shouto’s palm. “i love how capable and powerful they are, how you can create and destroy, how you still choose to be gentle.” a kiss touches down on his right palm, a strike through his heart. the sweetness makes shouto’s teeth ache.

there’s a smirk in his voice when hanta speaks again. “and these,” he says, breath startling warm and close to shouto’s collarbones, peeking out of his t-shirt. fingers dip into the fabric, pulling down just a bit. shouto sucks in a breath as lips land true on the bone. “always wanted to kiss you here, you know?”

what took you so long to do it?!

the part of shouto’s brain that was working to create coherent thoughts is in system shut down mode. he basks under the attention, under the light, under the worship of hanta sero, of his boyfriend, of his best friend. he basks and he melts, completely unsure of how to take it, how to accept it.

“and this—“ there’s a small birthmark at the very base of shouto’s neck hanta has wanted to kiss since they were first years. so he does. “love this here.”

every single bit of you, shouto todoroki.

there’s a pause that makes shouto open his eyes and search for hanta.

the taller boy could carry on all night, reaching out for every small inch of shouto todoroki that he’s in love with and explaining exactly why he loves each minuscule detail of it, but he pauses.

shouto’s brows dip, hesitant.

hanta came here to make sure he was okay.

he holds the gaze of the boy in his lap, of the boy he’s loved since he was fifteen, of the boy he’ll love until he passes on from this world to the next. there’s a blurry daze in his blue and gray eyes, but an ever deeper exhaustion pulls at all his edges. hanta can sweep shouto off his feet left and right, tell him all these lovely things and kiss him until he can’t see straight, but those things are merely temporary distractions.

i’m alright, i promise.

he tilts his head, and his smile is almost sad.

you’re not alright, i saw it in the way you tapped your foot in class, the way you pressed your icy fingers into your forehead, the way you avoided your table at lunch. i saw it in the way you were completely silent during practice, the way you wouldn’t engage in banter with bakugo, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still at dinner. i saw it in the way you left early, in the hectic, cracked state you were in when i got here, when you opened the door.

“hanta?” his voice cracks. shouto thinks, i don't deserve this affection. this appreciation. not from someone as good as you. you deserve—someone who isn’t ready to sob when you tell him you love something about him. hanta—

hanta presses his hand flat against shouto’s chest—no, his heart. he sees the way shouto chews on the inside of his cheek, the way his multicolored lashes flutter.

“i love you here, shouto,” hanta says. “when everything is too much and too loud. when you feel like nothing is going your way, when a split coffee cup feels like the end of the world.”

shouto’s lip purses, blinking furiously. his hands twist into the front of hanta’s shirt as the smaller boy falls forward, collapsing onto hanta’s shoulder with little grace.

“‘m sorry,” is the only thing shouto can muster.

hanta wraps an arm around him, pulls him as close as they can get. his lips press to shouto’s temple, to the stray strands of ruby locks there. “you don’t need to apologize, shou.” his shirt collar is wet. “sometimes… sometimes you just need to talk, you know? you need to let it out instead of leaving it unchecked.”

shouto’s heart pounds against hanta’s chest.

“you asked for a distraction. i should be saying sorry for getting all sappy,” hanta kisses his temple again, feels shouto’s shoulders begin to shake.

shouto laughs at that, small and weak and breathless. i needed to hear it. more than i thought i did. more than you know.

in truth, today isn’t the only awful day the two toned boy has had recently. it’s been every single day, one after the other, but he refused to acknowledge how tired and just plain sad he felt. he thought that if he pulled hanta into his bedroom and closed his eyes, it would go away with time.

and then the coffee burnt his fingers this morning.

that was the final shove. the final push to send shouto hurtling over the edge, stressed and strung out and overwhelmed. he just needs a break. a healthy, peaceful break that doesn’t involve reaching too far or doing something he might regret. he needs to plug in and recharge, to lay it all out on the table and sort through his troubles, to piece himself back together and get back to normal.

hanta hugs him tighter.

and now his resolve and control is cracking and spilling out, through his veins and his bones, through his heart and his eyes. he holds onto hanta like his life depends on it, letting it all out, finally giving in, finally letting go. distraction wasn’t the answer; he could only forget for so long, as more things piled on until it crushed him.

sometimes the world is too much, too loud.

shouto cries into hanta’s shoulder until there's nothing left. until he feels at peace. until he falls asleep in hanta’s arms.

he dreams of hanta with cherry blossoms in his hair, that same glittering grin on his face.

—

*drops this and runs a thousand miles in the other direction”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825064

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

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Multipart Commission - Harry Hook x reader - Prince Behind the Pirate - part 15 - revenge

*mild cursing*

….a secret marriage huh? You glared down at the written document defining the arranged marriage between you and Jordan.

Leah wanted the main wedding to be secret as to not attract the attention of your parents or anyone who knew about you and Harry.

Then she had sent you a detailed letter about how you and Jordan would start dating and within the next two years, do the grand wedding in front of everyone.

And the secret wedding was in two.days.

You were still in a depression over breaking the news to Harry, which was only last night.

You groaned and face planted in your arms, mentally cursing Leah to hell. You replayed Harry's screams in your head, begging for you to come back.

God, this was going to be hard, and you had to keep up the act of “happy perfect princess” when the secret wedding came along to not arise suspicion about it.

You jumped as your phone buzzed, picking it up and glaring down at the screen. -we will go dress shopping tomorrow, be ready by 3:30- you let out a small huff of frustration and turned off your phone, chucking it on your bed, causing it to bounce off the mattress and clatter on the floor.

“go-fu-AHH!” you screamed, standing from your desk and throwing your chair to the ground, kicking your standing mirror down, punching and shattering a photo of you and your grandmother. “I HATE YOU” you let out a guttural scream, grabbing the photo and chucking it out the window.

You sighed through your teeth, rubbing your face as you calmed down, “fuuuuuuuu” you groaned, turning and sitting on your bed “how am I going to do this” you whispered to yourself.

Audrey stomped through her parent's castle, death grip on her phone, if her parents admitted to knowing Leah's plan she would hesitate to rip them a new one. She slammed open their office door, causing the two adults to jump from their desks.

“Audrey whats?” her mother started, her eyes widening as Audrey shoved her phone in her face.

“did you know?! That grammie is forcing (y/n) to marry Jordan?!” Aorua stood and grabbed Audreys phone, looking over the texts.

“WHAT?” Phillip yelled, standing from his desk and walking over to the two girls, glaring at the phone “how dare she, she-what the- Aurora she- what about Harry?!” Phillip looked to Audrey, a horrified look on his face.

“grammie blackmailed her! She said if (y/n) didn’t marry Jordan she would never sign the document allowing more vks!” Aurora turned red, almost breaking Audreys phone in her grip.

“the bitch” she muttered, pressing Audreys phone into the teen's chest and pushing past her.

“Mom what are you-?” Audrey stuttered, running after her mom.

“im going to have a talk with King Ben, I want my mother taken off the council right now, her time has long been over” the usually sunny princess growled, her mother had held a grip on her kingdom of Auroia for long enough, now she would remove her grip on Auradon.

Luis brows rose as he stepped out of his limo to see Aurora, Phillip, and Audrey stomping up the steps of King Bens castle.

“my what is going on?” he asked aloud, Phillip turned to him, raising his brow.

“what are you doing here Luis?” he asked, waiting for the older man to catch up.

“Im here to tell the king about your mother in laws horrid plan, I should have told him as soon as I heard it but it is difficult to get an audience with him during such a busy time” Luis hummed, smiling as Phillip nodded along.

“same here, Audrey just showed us the texts (y/n) has received from Leah” Luis and Phillip quickly followed the pissed off Aurora who was swiftly making her way to Ben's office.

Aurora slammed his door open, the teen king jumped in fright, scrambling to catch the empty coffee he had tossed in the air in reaction. “A-Aurora?! What-“

“my mother has decided to go behind my back, AND YOURS, blackmailing my daughter to marry Ariels son in exchange for signing the new vks document, or else she would force my daughter to leave Harry and his friends on the isle to rot, and I demand you remove her from the council” Ben’s jaw dropped and he slammed the coffee cup on his desk.

“WHAT?! How long has this been going on?!” Ben gasped, walking around his desk and digging into a cabinet.

“almost two weeks” Luis sighed, rubbing his chin “there was a secret council meeting and almost all of them agreed with her plan, I tried to tell you sooner but you’ve been booked” Ben winced and bowed his head to Luis.

“im sorry about that, I wish I could have spoken to you sooner, thank you for telling me now though, I’ll be removing her from her seat. Oh, and Aurora?” the blonde princess rose her brow “will you take her place?” her jaw dropped slightly before she shook her head.

“(y/n) shou-“ Ben smiled and shrugged.

“as the ambassador of the isle, she already has a position on the council” he turned to Luis “If you could, please give me all the names of those who agreed to her plan, I want them removed immediately”

Luis smiled and nodded, going over to the cabinet and digging into the files, taking out the other rotten apples of the council.

Aurora hummed for a moment, thinking, before she smiled “Ben, if Im going to be one of the new council members, may I have the new vks document?” Ben grinned and nodded, running to his desk and quickly grabbing the document and a pen.

“here you go” Ben chirped, going back to removing the council members with a scribble of his own pen and a red-stained stamp.

Aurora motioned for Phillip to turn around, and he did, letting Aurora use his back as a writing table. She wrote her name with a flourish and smiled, setting the document and pen on Bens's desk.

Audrey stared at her grammies council document and the other rotten council members, her eyes narrowed and she looked up at Ben, who shivered and looked up at her, his eyes curious. “Aud-“

“We need to make them pay, they need to know what the kids on the isle go through” she snarled, making her parents look at her in shock.

Ben tilted his head at her, raising his brow “….only a few months ago you were saying Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay didn’t deserve to be here, what changed?” Aurora gasped at that, going to reprimand her when Phillip stopped her.

“my sister and her stories of the isle, I still don’t like Mal but she, nor any of the kids on the isle deserved what they went and are going through, my sister has been so sad without Harry because of my grandmother and the other idiots of the council, I want revenge for my sister” Audrey and Ben stared at each other, the fire in her eyes surprising him.

He smiled and nodded, “I think I know a way to do that, would you mind going to get fairy godmother? And tell her to get her wand, we have some council members to spell” Audrey gave a nasty grin and nodded, bolting out of Ben's office with her parents following close behind.

Aurora stopped, looking back at Ben, a smile on her face “thank you, Ben”

“thank you Aurora, (y/n) is my best friend, I can't have her happiness ripped from her” he smiled back, nodding at Luis and calling Lumiere to his office.

Ben stopped, humming to himself before taking his phone out and texting Audrey

-tell FG to spell my father as well, he needs to learn his own lesson about the isle-

-copy that >:)-

Leah hummed to herself as she ran her fingers through (y/n)s wedding gown, the modest dress was fit for a princess.

“soon I will have my hands on my own kingdom again” she muttered, a grin spreading on her face.

She stopped, a huge wave of dizziness overtaking her “oh my” she muttered, stumbling back to her bed and falling back into it, “wha?”

Her eyes drifted close and she fell into a nightmare.

Leah stumbled around the rotten smelling streets of the isle, eyes watering at the putrid stench of rotten food and…something else, she couldn't tell though.

She looked to her left, gasping in fear as she locked eyes with eh sunken ones of a tiny three-year-old, the child's cheeks thin and gaunt, her eyes drained of life, her body covered in blood and bruises, her ankles and hands dark and bloody.

“oh my-ah!” a large man bumped into her, clicking his tongue at her and whistling. Leah ran, tripping over loose stones and rusty nails. She tripped over a large fallen pillar, screaming as someone grabbed her.

= (yall can imagine the rest of the council and beasts tourture~…can be as graphic as you want~)=

Harry sighed, unable to move from his bed, his eyes hurt, unable to shed another but trying to. “Harry?” Umas muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door “Harry are you okay? You’ve been in your room for almost two days”

Harry sniffed, his throat was too sore to talk “Harry I’m coming in” Uma opened the door and gasped at Harry's curled up form on his messy bed “harry” she cooed, walking over and kneeling next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder “what-“

“(y/n)s bitch of a gra’ma is forcin’ her ta marry someon’ else ta get ‘er ta sign the document for us” he croaked, wincing as Uma shrieked in anger.

“WHAT! HOW CAN-AH!!?” she stood from beside his bed, walking around while ranting, waving her hands about wildly. “she can't fucking do that?! Its actually illegal she-WHAT!?!” Gil softly knocked on Harry's open door, a bright yet confused look on his face.

“um, there's some of Bens guard messenger dudes outside….along with Ben and Mal?” Uma looked to Harry confused and pushed past Gil, going to meet with the king and Lady of the court.

Harry sniffed and rubbed his cheek, groggily sitting up and looked at gil blankly “did they yell yeh what they wanted” he croaked, sighing as Gil shrugged.

“no, they just wanted to talk to uma-“ Gil jumped as uma leaped into the room, a huge grin on her face.

“pack your bags boys! We’re going to Auradon!” Harry's jaw dropped and he stood quickly, walking over to Uma and gripping her shoulders.

“did-“ Uma’s bright grin turned nasty and she chuckled.

“nope~ beasty boy fired most of the council, including (y/n)s grandma, and the new vk document has been signed! You! Are gonna go get your princess back!” Harry's heart sprung to life and he let out a bout of laughter, picking Uma up in a hug, spinning her around for a moment before setting her down and grabbing his duffle bag, starting to pack.

Uma giggled and pushed Gil's shoulder “come one, we need to go pack, the sooner Harry gets his girl the better” the two teen pirates ran out of Harry's room and to their own to pack.

You glared at the long-sleeved white dress hanging from your temporary rooms closet door.

….you were getting married in 10 hours.

You also hadn’t heard from Leah in a day, after she had texted you yesterday about the dress, and all the other crap.

Your phone buzzed and you groaned “speak of the devil” you muttered, hesitantly picking up your phone to look at the text.

-from Leah >:C-

-im sorry-

That…surprised you? Your furrowed your brows in confusion, what? She was sorry all of a sudden, well it didn’t matter, she was fucking ruining your life at the moment, and you couldn’t forgive her.

Your phone buzzed again.

You gasped and stood from your seat, squealing as you jumped around in joy

-from Jordan-

-WEDDINGS OFF!!!:D:D:D-

-YEEES- you texted back -what happened!!! How??!-

- i don’t even know,…i…did come out to them? They were completely supportive btw, so maybe that’s why?…. hey btw, whose the new blonde dude, hes cute-

-that’s amazing im so proud of you! And happy for you!!....what new blonde dude?-

Your phone buzzed again, but this time with a text from your sister.

-hey, ur at the Atlantic hotel right?-

You furrowed your brows and texted her back

-yeah? Why OH DID YOU HEAR?!-

-I KNOW!! :D but you need to come outside, im here to pick you up-

You nodded and messaged her back -okay- and rushed to grab your bags, sliding on your jacket and running out of the room. you didn’t bother to take the elevator, it would take to long.

You slammed open the stairwell doors and ran out the building, giggling as you spotted your sister. “Audrey!!” you screeched, dropping your bags and leaping into her arms “hi!”

“hi!” she screeched back, catching you and swaying you in her arms “ohhhh you have no idea what a crazy two days its been!”

“Are you kidding!?! I was supposed to get married in 10 hours!” you cackled, picking your bags up and tossing them into the back of her Cadillac and hopping in her passenger seat.

Audrey giggled and leaped into the driver's seat, putting her seat belt back on and driving towards the school “ooh I know, there's a surprise for you back at the dorms by the way”

You grinned and poked her shoulder “ohhh what is it~?”

“you gotta find out for yourself~” Audrey teased, pushing off your hand.

“Okay okay,” you sighed happily, letting your head fall back against the seat and looking up at the clear blue sky.

The day that was going to be your doom was saved.

What would make it even better was Harry.

But, that probably wouldn’t be for another couple months at best with your grandmother still on the council.

“oh by the way grammie was kicked off the council” you popped back up, staring wide-eyed at Audrey.

“what?!?! Wait does that-holy shit” you muttered, laughter bubbling beneath your words.

Audrey laughed with you, telling you about how mom and dad found out about Leah's plan and foiling it, telling Ariel and Eric that she had gone behind their backs and didn’t know about the arranged marriage.

They were pissed, immediately calling off the wedding and apologizing to your parents and Jordan.

About an hour later you arrived back at the dorms, you raised your brow at the limo out front, multiple bags being emptied from the trunk “Aud whats- HOLY FUCK” you screamed, unbuckling your seat belt and leaping out of the car, running towards the tall Scottish pirate “HARRY!” he looked up, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled, running towards you and catching you mid-air, spinning you around in his arms “my love holy shit I missed yeh” he sobbed in your ear, happy tears running down his face and soaking your top.

“Harry Harry Harry” you muttered over and over again, pulling back and peppering kissing all over his face, making him giggle.

“dawww” Audrey and Uma cooed, Audrey snapping a photo of the reunion. Harry shook off your kisses and grinned at you, yelping adorably as you pouted and grabbed his face, forcing more kisses on his nose and cheeks. “let.me.love.you” you kissed between each word, ignoring your parents and sister in the background, cooing and snapping photos of the two of you.

“lass, lass, love, (y/n)-ah~!” he squealed, setting you down and grabbing your hands and peeling them from his neck “love I’m ticklish please”

“you must be Harry” Harry perked up, straightening as he locked eyes with your dad.

“uh-aye, yes! Yes, sir tha’s me” he said nervously, blinking surprised as Phillip held out his hand.

“thank you for making my daughter happy and keeping her safe when she was on the isle with you” Harry smiled and took his hand, yelping as Phillip pulled him in for a hug and Aurora joined in, greeting Harry with a chirp.

“hello~ (y/n) has told us all about you!” she squealed, ruffling Harry's hair.

“uh really?” Harry murmured, peeking at you through the gap between Aurora's head and Phillip’s arm

You gave him a bright smile and walked over, pulling him from your parent's arms “lass-mmf!?” you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, humming into it.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed, shoulders dropping and arms wrapping around your waist.

“Okay okay” Phillip chuckled, patting your shoulder “that’s enough, now why don’t we help these four move in”

You turned, gasping as you spotted Uma, Gil, and Dizzy standing at the entrance, Dizzy squealing, and bouncing around.

“Yeah!” you grinned, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him into the dorm building, harry intertwining his fingers with yours.

You finally had your pirate prince back.

-the end, thank you for reading! Also, told you it was a happy end~-

permtaglist

@queer-cosette

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@lunanight2012

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taglist

@thecaptainsgingersnap

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#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine

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kitchenangst · 4 years ago

Text

Before Anything Good pt. 2

Mako x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Barely one month of living on the streets, and Mako has grown skeptical of anything good that’s offered freely to him. When the girl from the other side of town calls him stinky and demands he take a shower, he might just be right about his newfound cynicism.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: brief implied abusive relationship, language, dialogue heavy, Bolin being comedy relief, this is literally just filler goofiness lol

A/N: New game, drink water every time anyone is called stinky hehe I was going to update this on the weekend but got too excited! also can we get an F for my keyboard pls it doesn’t want to cooperate anymore,, anyway pls let me know if there are any errors!

part i | part iii

After exchanging transactions and names, the three sat on a bench outside with a hefty bag of baked goods. Bolin bounced in his seat as he patiently waited for the girl, who introduced herself as Yn, to pass him his bread before eating her own. She reached into the bag with the napkin, making sure to hand over one of the bigger pieces. Grabbing at it with greedy hands and an appetite to match, he immediately scarfed down the brioche, but not before he said his thanks. He sighed in delight as the fluffiness of it melted on his tongue. “So good!!”

Mako found himself smiling at Bolin’s infectious grin. “S’that so? Want a bite of mine?” He angled his spongy bread towards the younger one, who happily chomped on it. He returned his gaze forward as he continued to chew on his bread, the treat staving off some of the hunger.

Yn giggled at the interaction, wanting to join the fun, and tugged on Mako’s sleeve. “Want a bite of mine?” Before Mako had a chance to respond, she had already shoved her bread into his mouth once he had turned towards her. After breaking the piece off, she lectured, “You should eat more! These will go bad if you don’t finish them! It’ll be a waste.” She ignored Mako’s flushed face, assuming he just needed water, and passed him his cup.

Once he cleared his throat, Mako choked out, "Didn’t you ever consider the germs! You could be sick!”

“I’m not sick!” She cried defensively. “If I cared about your germs, I wouldn’t have offered you any of my bread!”

“Did you think that I might care about germs?!”

“I- Well, I-,” she immediately paused, her cheeks flushing as she looked down sheepishly, “-did not think about that. Sorry?” She looked back at him, the fear of losing her newly made friend reflecting in her expression.

“That’s okay! Mako’s just shy with girls,” Bolin helpfully announced. “Like when that one girl who lived across the street tried to offer some fruit and Mako just threw them-”

“You can eat the rest,” Mako blankly offers, the remaining bread shoved in Bolin’s mouth. At Yn’s gaping mouth, Mako grabs the wrist holding her bread before guiding the food into her mouth. “You should, too.” A playful grin itches the corners of his mouth as he tries to keep a straight face. "It's not good to waste your food." He reaches into the bag to grab a different type of bread as if nothing happened and proceeds to chew on it.

“Thaz nawht neigs!”

At her muffled yelling, Mako’s eyes glint playfully. “What’s that? I smell really good?” She shoved him away the moment he tried to lean closer to her.

Once she swallowed, she reprimanded Mako’s behavior, claiming it’s not good to interrupt people talking.

Mako shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Not really. When you have a brother, it’s okay to be mean.”

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his words. “Then, what about a sister? Would you be mean to her too?”

He takes a moment to ponder. It was nice forgetting that he was an orphan and just enjoying food in the company of another. But he thinks back to the days he'd chase Bolin around the house and wonders if he'd also chase Yn around if she'd been there. After all, a friend wouldn't be too different from a sibling, right?

“I think it’d be okay to be mean to them, too.” Yn’s head nodded approvingly at the answer, humming appreciatively that there was no special treatment between siblings. “Not sure, though. I never really thought about it until now.”

“What about you, Yn? Do you have a brother or sister?” Bolin chimed in, now on his second bread.

“None! But I’d like a sister or brother sometime! I think it’s neat to have a friend like that around all the time.”

“Yeah, you can think of it like that. Or it’s someone annoying you all the time.” With another shrug, Mako pops the rest of the bread in his mouth and dusts the crumbs off his hands.

Bolin clears his throat, climbs onto his knees, and holds Mako by the shoulders to steady himself before burping in his face. The immediate cringe his brother wears is enough to satisfy him, a triumphant grin settling on his face. “Or someone you can annoy all the time!”

Yn’s bark of laughter suddenly ends when suddenly the same cringe on Mako embraces her face. “Oh, you two are really stink-” but the other two don’t hear her finish her sentence as someone shouts her name over the stomping of ostrich horses in front of them.

The lady towering over Yn from her seat inside the carriage looks frustrated, worried, and tired all at once. She hugs the girl the instant she exits the carriage, her eyes clenching softly in relief before she reopens them to look her form over. Making sure there aren’t any visible signs of dirt or scratches, she sighs. “Sweetie, why did you leave my side? You’re lucky I found you before anything happened!”

Yn puffs her chest and sits up straighter. The moment the word “mother” had left her mouth, Mako suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have gone for the bread, should be leaving, should be running. He stiffens when he makes eye contact with her mom, her eyes scanning their tattered clothes and thin coating of dust, settling on the scarf wrapped around Mako's neck with some form of recognition and pity. The pity. This was the exact moment he hated experiencing when parents realized their kids were around them, the orphans. Mako makes an effort to hold back a scoff, suddenly remembering how it wasn’t proper social etiquette to be rude to those related to the one who have shown you kindness.

“Mako, can we?” He turns to see Bolin holding his hands together in plea and lips pouting.

"Uh..." Shit, he was not listening. "I don't know, Bo…"

“Please, I insist. Any friend of Yn is welcome to have dinner with us anytime.” The look in her eyes was hesitant compared to the shakey upward turn of her mouth. “I won’t make two orphans pay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Although they were the same words spoken to him earlier that day, they didn’t feel as sweet coming from the lady than it did from her daughter. Why did she have to mention they were orphans? Did she know them? their parents? the culprit?

“Mako,” Bolin whispers. Tugging his sleeve close enough so that the other two wouldn’t hear, he continues whispering. “House. Stuff. Steal?” Mako’s face remained neutral, but Bolin’s idea did strike a chord… Maybe they had a collection? They wouldn’t notice a thing or two from it missing… Mako assumed position by crossing his arms and making an indecisive face, hand resting on his chin to pronounce the effect. “It’s free dinner! Just this once, please?” With his acting turned up by a notch, Bolin slings himself onto Mako’s shoulders with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

“Well… I could never say no to free food,” Mako returns stiffly. Gee, why couldn’t they just be natural. Even Bolin’s pout turned into a grimace.

“Then let’s go now!” With no time for them to worry about how bad their acting was, the two of them were suddenly seated in the carriage on the opposite side from Yn and her mom. Yn bounced in her seat and swung her legs, her head tilting from side to side as if she was picking and choosing from a jar of questions to ask them, but only held back because of her mother being in the same space.

The brothers shifted their eyes around the cart, not wanting to make eye contact at her mom, but not quite wanting to look at Yn either. Instead, Mako fiddled with the ends of his scarf while Bolin asked for another piece of bread. Smart, at least he wouldn’t be asked to talk if he was eating.

“Mother?” Yn’s tongue poked against the inside of her cheek, hesitant on whether she should ask something or not. At her mother’s inquiry, she continued, “Is this what kidnapping looks like?”

Everyone turned to the sound of Bolin’s choking, who could barely hold the bottle of water being handed to him by Yn’s mother while Mako slapped his back harshly until he calmed down. “K-ki-kid- you’re kidnapping us?” He stared at the water and bread questionably. “Are these poisoned?! Am I going to… going to… melt… from the inside?” The tears in the corner of his widened eyes began to roll down at the thought of a painful death and he turned to Mako, barely comprehensible. “I told you! We shou-shouldn’t have come!”

“You’re the one who wanted to go!”

“You’re the one who let us go!” Great. Now he was sobbing.

Exasperated, Mako groans. “Fine! If it makes you feel better-” he takes a large swig from the same bottle Bolin drank from earlier, “-now we’ll both melt from the inside!” Once Bolin’s sobs calmed down, he quickly added, “Better?” Bolin’s nod of approval stopped at the sound of Yn’s laughter on the other side, her mom simply covering her mouth with a little twinkle in her eyes.

“I wanna melt from the inside, too!” Yn plucked the bottle from Mako’s hands before chugging the rest, saying something about how poisoned water tasted better than regular water.

“You’re free to leave anytime after dinner, by the way. We’ll even arrange a carriage to take you back,” Yn’s mother offered.

Mako nodded slowly, the look in her eyes now seeming more genuine than it had outside the carriage. “Thank you. We’d really like that.”

The rocking of the carriage and the stomping of the ostrich horses filled the silence afterwards. With nothing to do and the presence of her mother making her hold her tongue, Yn studied the two brothers’ features. She wasn’t sure of what the definition of pretty for boys was, but she was sure these two were it.

Bolin was on the cuter side with his stubby nose helping his thick eyebrows emphasize his expressions, chubby cheeks filling like chimp-monkeys, and bright emerald eyes practically glowing as if untouched. Mako, on the other hand, had a more slender nose, the arch of his eyebrows curving naturally just before abruptly being pulled up to a mountain peak and dragging downwards on the thicker end, his cheeks close to hollowing out from lack of food, and golden eyes tinted and narrowed in suspicion every now and then. The apples of both their cheeks an angry pink and peeling from being sunburnt, paling in comparison to the deep red and soft cotton of Mako’s scarf.

That couldn't have felt nice if they just left it alone… She sighed and started folding the empty bag of bread, wondering if her mother had any mud masks she could spare at home.

“And that’s how you turn off the sink!” Yn finished her explanation to the boys with a proud face, the bathroom lights adding just another bright layer to her eyes.

“We know how to use the bathroom...”

“Then get to brushing your teeth! Your breath-”

“Stinks. We know.”

Yn’s grin widens at Mako’s admittance, skipping out of the bathroom to help her mom prep for dinner. The dinner prep was simple since neither brothers had any special dietary needs or restrictions. The sound of the door unlocking was enough to stop her from turning on the stove to cook the chopped ingredients. Running to the door, she greeted her father with a slight bow and offered to take his coat and hat back to his room.

Just as she exited her father’s room, she heard her name from Mako’s distressed call. “Can you get us towels? And some clothes?” His head was sticking out from the door and his damp hair clung to the sides of his face as he looked around frantically.

“Oh! Sorry, how could I forget? Just wait a bit!” She’s about to turn the corner into the kitchen to ask her mother about the washed clothes, stopping when she hears the hushed whispers that could only belong to her parents.

“No, those two kids! They’re San and Naoki’s kids!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Spirits, woman, do I have to spell everything for you? Did you see the damage of their house? They must have gotten some money from selling stuff. Money that they’re hiding.”

“They’re just kids. When are you going to stop pulling this stunt?”

“I’ll stop when I stop. Now, where have you been seeing them hang around?”

A heavy air of silence hangs around the area, and Yn nearly looks around the wall before her eyes widened at the familiar sound of a harsh clap thundering off the walls of the kitchen. Her hands flew to cover her mouth to repress her gasp. With shaky steps, she was barely able to turn around without tripping on her feet, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and blocking off the rest of their conversation as she made her way back to the bathroom.

A/n: I did not need 1.7k words before getting to this point in the story but I couldn’t help it LOL this part was split once again :”) also some pieces of dialogue are based on conversations in real life and I thought it fitted the three of them nicely as kids! kinda surprised myself this chapter because i always cringe at what i write but this was kinda cute lol Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!

part i | part iii

Taglist! (if you’d like to be tagged, pls DM me or send in an ask!)

@welovediaaxx

#source: lok art of the animated series #lok #legend of korra #lok x reader #mako x reader #mako #mako imagine #lok imagine #BAG #yall gonna HATE me the next few updates #did i really use this chapter to describe mako's jetbrows......yes...#mako: not me side eyeing my brother

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greytoiletpaper · 4 years ago

Text

Bathe Me in the Purest Water (I Don’t Feel Clean)

Yeah, so I wrote this like a couple months ago and i only just caught up with the manga and just... wow. I loved it, and I guess I just want this solidified here :). And yes, this fic was originally inspired by this comic, I love it so.

AO3 link

It is a shrieking wail bouncing off the walls of the Todoroki household at ungodly hours of the morning that has Touya bolting upright drenched in a cold sweat. Briefly, he wonders how fucked up it is that he thought he was hallucinating the sound. It is nothing like the cries of his siblings he has long since memorized. Yet, something about the sounds is so raw and so young, that refuting them as little Shouto’s cries is impossible.

Touya finds himself sprinting from his room, searching all over for the source of Shouto’s wails. The awful noise rings from every room and in his eardrums that he even considers whether the youngest Todoroki somehow developed a second quirk. Enji would have a field day with that. His mind is compartmentalizing, but joking is the only way he can stay sane when Shouto’s wailing turns into screaming. When he stumbles into the kitchen, he wishes that the joke was reality rather than the sight that greets him.

There is a kettle in the shaking hand of his mother while she mutters her husband’s name under her breath. Her eyes dart around every part of the room except the screaming face of her youngest son. A raw burn is on Shouto’s face, marred and angrily red as if a scalding liquid has run over it. There is evidence abound to figure out what happened, but that is yet to be Touya’s concern. For the rest of his life, no sound will ever haunt him as much as his baby brother’s screams turning into a weak gurgle.

He misses the way that Rei flinches when he moves closer, how his mother shrieks her husband’s name even though Enji only returns home from his mission tomorrow. Instead, all his attention is on the brother who looked up at Touya like he hung the stars curl up in a ball and shake. It is five seconds later when his other siblings rush into the room that Touya snaps out of his fugue. He gathers Shouto in his arms, whispering frantic platitudes in his ears and praying for the health of his baby brother.

Todoroki Touya is twelve when he has to bandage half of his five-year-old brother’s face. Their mother is sent to a mental health ward the next day, and their already-burning family peels more at the edges.

---

It is beautiful, the way that its form crinkles and curves at the edges. In all of his time with Cremation, he has never seen the azure flames seem so… gentle. Endeavour’s fire is like his rage, pure concentrated firepower that is only broken by small, consistent licks of flames at the edges. Touya’s flames are akin wildfire, they lash and lance and branch out in a chaotic collage that only he seems to be able to tell discern the individual licks of flame. Yet, in his hand, the flames seem so docile in their current shape, made of small bits of fire that skirt and weave themselves in a trance-inducing pattern.

Their shape is simple, but the forget-me-nots that his flames have formed are the product of the past three weeks of hard work and practise. Since Enji has stopped training Touya in favour of Shouto, he has had so much more time to focus on fine-tuning his quirk. His father taught him how to make his flames hotter and so much more destructive but here before his eyes is the proof that his fire can be used to make something instead.

He tries not to be guilty at the fact he gets to have this while his baby brother is beaten black and blue the floor below him.

Across him, his mother’s face lights up in her scarce, genuine smile that reminds him that even with all her cracking pieces, Rei Todoroki is still a mother that loves just as much as she is hurt. (She is so very hurt and there is nothing he can do to take it all away). It is thanks to her that he even learned controlling his quirk is possible.

It seems ironic, that he learned how to destroy with his flames from his pro hero father but is learning fine control from his civilian mother.

“That’s a beautiful flower Tou-chan,” He blushes at the nickname, but his mother is rarely happy, so he does not protest. “I hope one day all of you can do this with your quirks, it’s such beautiful artwork we can make with what we have been given.”

With her ice, his mother forms a beautiful, twinkling rindou flower and cups it in her hand. It is breathtaking to look at, seemingly ethereal with the frost emanating and little flecks of snow dancing in the lamplight. It is rare for Rei to use her quirk and every time, Touya is lost in the way that the ice seems to flow and skirt as if a small part of a blizzard appeared and made her craft. If he looks closer, the movement of his mother’s ice is familiar, shifting and undulating in ways so, so similar to how his fire is in his hand right now.

The quirk doctors said Touya inherited his mother’s constitution, everyone assumed it meant he was weak. He can apparently control his fire as if it were an ice quirk. Using Cremation for too long makes him feel like he is physically melting. In hindsight, he should have realised just how literal the quirk doctors were being.

---

He read in a textbook once that sometimes twins can swap their intended quirks in the womb. Fuyumi grabs the kettle from its undoubtedly searing bottom without even a wince, even though she has an ice quirk that freezes her arm at just a second’s usage. For the time being, it was the furthest thing from his mind. Shouto only barely breathing and all Touya wants is to hold someone so young and already so scarred in his arms and take all his tears for himself.

---

A week later, Enji puts Shouto back into training. Everyone protests this, but there is hardly anything they can say that can sway their father when he pulls his Endeavour face and disregards them in his own way of lovingly shoving his other children to the ground. Does Touya feel some satisfaction that the old man hesitated for a second before he lays his hand on Fuyumi? A little, but it fades as quickly as it came when there is still nothing stopping the prick from forcing their baby brother from being put back into what is no doubt extra hours to make up for “valuable training time gone to waste”.

Enji’s words, not his.

Frustration, anger and pain – so much pain – is what spurs Touya into action. He leaps onto Endeavour’s back, furiously trying to pry Shouto from the sick bastard’s hands and earns a knee to the gut for his efforts. Enji leaves him in the hallway and even though his other siblings are moving him to his room all he can think is how his baby brother looks so afraid as if he knows this time there will not be a mother to comfort any of them afterwards.

---

He wakes to the sound of Shouto’s tears slightly muffled in the central courtyard. The sun is only on the cusp of rising but sleep had eluded him for hours regardless. In the morning rays, his baby brother’s face is a mess of tears and aborted hiccups. A pang sounds in his chest, Shouto is so young (they all are) and he already has to learn how to make himself silent in fear of the flaming shadow that is their father. There is a small patch of ash by Shouto’s feet and soot on his face. Touya has a hunch as to what happened, but it never hurts to see his brother’s perspective.

“What’s wrong, Shou?” His question is met with silence, so he pushes on. “Did you burn yourself?”

Only an idiot would ignore how Shouto flinches at the question, so Touya crouches gently to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible. His baby brother does not relax, but a soft mumble just barely escapes him.

“It’s scary.”

“What’s scary?”

“His half.”

Touya frowns, just because Enji is why Shouto has fire, does not make it solely their father’s fire. Even then, no child should live in fear of their quirk. Although, looking down at the skin grafts on his wrists, Touya is in no place to judge his baby brother’s fear.

“Why do you think it’s scary?”

Another silence stretches out, and Touya can see his baby brother’s struggle to process the words. He almost changes the topic when the rest of Shouto’s confession spills out.

“It looks too much like his. I don’t want to burn myself too much and I still can’t control it. But dad keeps pushing me and- and I don’t want to-.”

Shouto looks like he is going to explode with tears, the wicks of flame and ice coming off him signal how close he is to a meltdown that would no doubt bring their father in screaming. Without thinking, he pulls his brother close, enveloping his tiny shoulders with his arms and making soothing motions on his back. While Shouto quietly sobs into his shoulder, Touya ruminates on how to comfort the boy with how to control his fire, which is the exact train of thought that makes him huff a laugh.

“Hey Shou, I’m going to try teach you something Mom taught me. You wanna see?” Looking at the soft, tentative smile Shouto gives him when Touya pulls away, he cannot help but be drawn by how much it reminds him of their mother’s. He holds out his hand palm up before his brother. “She taught me how to control the pieces so that it hurts a little less.”

The courtyard is thrown in shadows highlighted by the blue of Touya’s flames, and he can see just how enamoured Shouto’s face is in the azure light. He has the curls of his fire shift and form the forget-me-not that he has been practising making for so long.

“See Shou? Fire is not always that scary.”

Shouto only makes a small noise of assent, his eyes still entranced by the small dancing movements of his eldest brother’s fire. He reaches out, hesitantly, and tries to cup his hands around the flames.

“Can I learn how to make one?” The change in attitude throws off Touya for only a moment, but the shy, almost hopeful look in his brother’s eye would never have him say no even at gunpoint. He smiles.

“’Course Shou,” It is still a gamble trying to see if Shouto can use his fire this way, but Touya cups his brother’s hands anyway. “Try making a little fire first.”

The flame in Shouto’s hands starts off as little embers before igniting into a small flame just about the size of the boy’s fist.

“If you start off small and make all the pieces of your fire slow down even just a little, you can make things with them.”

Shouto frowns at the words, mulling them over in his head as the fearful parts of his face fade away into the focus he is exhibiting now. Slowly, the licks of flame seem to move in a blend of wild, yet seemingly calculated movements as they form into a stem. Shouto giggles even as it holds the form for all of five seconds before they give out. Touya laughs at the adorable pout that crosses Shouto’s face and holds his hand out for a high five.

“That was a great job, Shou!” It is. Touya took way longer to have that kind of focus and he held the stem for only half the time. He says as much. “Don’t worry that you can’t make the full flower right now. Mom and I can teach you. One day, your flames make a shape that means a lot to you and you only.”

As he ruffles Shouto’s hair and the boy gives him that look like he hung the very stars, Touya sees the shadow of his father crossing the walkway above them. Moment over, Touya picks his brother up and faces him away from Enji while staring the man down.

“You want something to eat?” Shouto makes a mumble that roughly translates to ‘cold soba’ and Touya laughs in spite of himself. “Come on buddy, I’ll take you to mom and fix some up for you.”

---

The water scalds his skin and his thoughts are a jumble of painmakeitstopmompleaseimsorry on half of his face. It is not just the water that hurts, but the knowledge that that can be reminded to him is how half of him has fire just like his father’s. As the searing pain finally starts to die down, little but important pieces of him (memories of nights huddled with a mother to see his fire as his own, his brother making those shapes with his hands) seem to leak out with his tears.

---

Touya dies in a fire starting from his seventh attempt to pull Shouto from training with Enji. Touya dies when his wildfire swarms him and his skin blisters and melts. Touya dies as the skin grafts are stapled on to his body and even without nerves in those places, he can still feel the flames as they enveloped him. Touya dies… and Dabi rises from his ashes.

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pruinesce-a2 · 4 years ago

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about all your recent posts for fuyumi i can understand how she feels & the constant fear & anxiety she has. to have incompatible parents & your the eldest so it's always a small trigger could make everything fall apart & your trying your best to keep everything together. you over analyze everything action and word to know if things are still okay or is something going to happen? to want everyone and everything to be fine. the amount of responsibility (1/2)

and sometimes you do want to just crash but you physically can't because it's how you've trained your mind to be always 'breath ur fine breath it's okay breath & get up & fix things it'll get better one day. maybe' you wish you had someone who could take off the weight for just a little bit but what if they don't do it right, what if that means i'm getting weak what if what if what if and it is just a nightmare (2/2)

Also because fuyumi's situation reminds me of mine, you feel terrified of romance and don't believe it actually exists, you have the fear of this repeating but with your own family and you dont want your kids to go through the same thing. Also you've never been responsible for only yourself so you're wondering if you ever will figure out who "you" are really. There's so much of yourself defined by the situation you are in that if it's gone, you don't know who you are (3/2 😭😭)

i’m incoherent bc i just got outta class but yes to pretty much all of this. and also, my friend, me too ! fuyumi is a HUGE comfort character of mine because i relate to her so much for the same reasons - and now i wanna go bit by bit n talk about all the stuff you mentioned because i’ve mentioned it in pieces on this blog but never in full and i just go crazy thinking about her.

trigger warnings for child abuse, death, and just. general unpleasantness.

first of all in all honesty, there’s really no situation in which endeavor could ever be compatible ( which isn’t a jab at you - just want it to be clear that this is beyond parents that don’t get along ! ). he’s straight up abusive and drove his wife to a complete mental break, as well as, as i’ve said before, y’know. beating the shit out of his kids. i wanna also clarify some things on the timeline before i get started ( i’m not sure if you’ve watched/read bnha, but also this is for my mutuals that haven’t ) - fuyumi is now the eldest living. the todorokis had four kids: touya, the firstborn, then fuyumi, then natsuo, and then shouto. and i want to follow that by linking you to this page, where we find out that..... touya died AFTER rei’s breakdown and subsequent hospitalization.

AFTER.

i honestly don’t know the timeline of touya and shouto’s training.... bc in this panel we see that baby touya didn’t have any burn marks, no bandages, he was fully capable of playing and running around. i also think if he would have been trained the same way shouto was, rei’s break would’ve come a lot sooner, and we wouldn’t have panels like this - i think before shouto, while the todoroki family was incredibly dysfunctional, they still had some semblance of a normal family, and that’s why fuyumi is so desperate to try to have a family again; because she knows and has seen that they were a family, or at least were in her understanding as a child. this seems particularly reinforced for me because natsuo, in the light novel, talks about how he always wanted endeavor’s attention as a kid! he thought it was unfair that shouto was the one who was getting it all, so it implies to me that.... one, they had no idea at first, and two, they had to have had at least a decent relationship with him before.

so i think what happened was.... after shouto’s quirk manifested, endeavor began to change. he started training shouto because he developed the quirk he wanted, all that stuff we already know, and the stress of it all drove rei into pouring the boiling water on shouto, and then we know she was put into psychiatric care. fuyumi was 12.

rei leaving was, obviously, hard on all of them. i think fuyumi was the most disconnected from her mother, because rei saw so much of herself in fuyumi and couldn’t stand it at times. natsuo in the light novel also mentioned he didn’t mind the lack of attention because he had his mom! so it hurt fuyumi, a lot, but she was able to be strong for them because a) she was older and b) she and her mother had a strained relationship anyway.

i headcanon fuyumi was the one who found rei and shouto. she heard the kettle whistle, the screaming and crying from the kitchen, and when she rounded the corner she saw her mother and shouto on the floor as we’ve seen in canon. it was incredibly scarring. fuyumi gets frequent flashbacks and invasive imagery from this event, especially when she hears that kettle whistle / sees her brothers in the kitchen. i’ve said it over and over but she hates them being there, shouto in particular - and i think this is backed up in the light novel when she immediately makes the boys leave the kitchen after shouto tries to come in and help.

i also think endeavor thought shouto was ruined after that. his “masterpiece” was ruined because there was a very strong possibility he’d never recover from that injury, and so endeavor, in desperation, turned to his first-born son as a replacement. his wife definitely wasn’t going to be giving him any more kids, and shouto as far as he knew was out of commission. fuyumi had an ice quirk and natsuo was practically quirkless, if not ENTIRELY quirkless. but touya.... had his flames. i don’t think endeavor initially wanted to train him because he wasn’t the perfect combination that he kept trying for with rei - but here, he’d reached his own breaking point, and touya was the only option left to continue his legacy.

but it’s implied endeavor pushed too hard, or was somehow directly involved in touya’s “death.” i put this in quotes because y’know, dabi is a todoroki theory. and this obviously just made things worse. i’m linking to this page again because it says that rei got worse, too, so much so that she couldn’t see shouto anymore - but it also implies to me that natsuo and fuyumi would still visit. but anyway ! touya dies, rei gets worse, and surely soon after endeavor finds out that shouto, while he’d have that scar on his face, would recover... and still be able to be trained.

so ummm.... now i can talk about fuyumi. all that and we’re JUST getting to her.

i’m kind of starting from the last ask here, but you’re entirely right - since the age of 13, fuyumi has never been able to define herself. from here on, she was entirely shaped by her trauma, and by roles she was never supposed to have fulfilled - i.e., motherhood. as a reminder, shouto was 5-6, natsuo was 9-10, and fuyumi, at age 13-14, truly began to step in rei’s place. so fuyumi starts taking care of the two of them while touya was the one who became isolated while he was trained. and like i said in a couple other posts, her brothers rejected her mothering them at first - i.e. natsuo lashing out and saying she’s NOT their mother and shouldn’t act like it, and shouto begging for their mom all the time and not understanding where she went. fuyumi barely had her own time to process what was happening and process the loss of her mother.

and then touya died. fuyumi probably feels partially responsible for his death, too, in the same way she and natsuo have said felt responsible for not helping shouto - she often thinks she could’ve done or said something to prevent that, too. and as you said, she overanalyzes everything and she’s incredibly hypervigilant to her father’s moods, because his satisfaction is, essentially, paramount to survival. touya died because he couldn’t meet her father’s standards, or maybe because he made endeavor angry, or whatever the case.

and you’re also right about the fact that she has no one to share the burden with - or, at the very least, feels like it. the one time natsuo tried to make it easier on her by cooking dinner, their father forbade him from never doing it again. i can only imagine what this fight looked like, and how scared fuyumi was of something so small turning into something irreparable. fuyumi says on this page they “take turns”, but i only think it ever happens when endeavor’s not home.

not to mention, as a defense and coping mechanism, became the image of a perfect mother to her brothers, and a perfect daughter to her father. always putting the boys first - i headcanon when either of them were sick, fuyumi would stay home from school to take care of them. always making sure her father was pleased and mediating between him and the boys. she developed this personality that consists of nothing but love and gentleness and understanding. i talked about this in my post about her and complex ptsd, but i’ll add the relevant excerpt here, too:

it’s also very common for these survivors to re-experience emotions from trauma intrusively - particularly when triggered. these feelings are often disproportionate to the present situation, but are equal to the intensity of what was required of them at the time of a trauma – also known as an emotional flashback.

fuyumi’s trauma has always put her in situations where she plays the peacemaker, the level head, the kind and gentle and understanding one. and because fuyumi is CONSTANTLY re-traumatized and exposed to her triggers because that entire house is one, it’s become her entire personality.

so fuyumi doesn’t really get to discover herself, at all, outside her trauma. her live revolves entirely around her brothers and her father. i think this also contributes to her desperation to repair her family now, because.... she doesn’t know what else is beyond that.

she’s stuck here. she can’t heal or move on right now.

fuyumi is a busybody because she KNOWS if she ever stops moving, she’ll crash, as you said. and it happens on occasion - but always behind closed doors. she has these.... quiet breaks, before she’s “fine” and moving on the next day. shouto and natsuo have never seen this side of her. she keeps this perfect facade of being put together tight under wraps.

i think the last thing to address with this ask is the aspect of romance and family - and once again, my dear friend, you’ve hit the nail on the head ! to start, fuyumi is deeply afraid of romance. she’s in love with the idea of it, as we can tell from her obsession with soap operas and trashy novels, but in reality it takes a long, long time for fuyumi to ever feel comfortable enough to define or initiate things between herself and someone else. it’s why she’s also always involved in people who are very straightforward, who won’t keep secrets from her, because she needs clarity in a relationship always. not to even mention a family of her own - fuyumi is so terrified of becoming her mother. even now, it’s why she refuses to let her brothers in the kitchen with her - because she knows how alike they are.

what’s really incredible to me is that despite all of that, fuyumi’s love and optimism and empathy and all that kindness and gentleness for the world is still very real and true. you can see it in the way she smiles, it’s in the way she sees the little things in people and remembers them, it’s in the unconditional love and understanding she gives to her friends and partners, the care she takes in tending to the family garden, the attention to her students - she truly embodies the good of humanity, the good of people - an aspect of her character that i love is how entirely mundane she is, and yet... she’s so, so special. her path to healing will always begin with forgiveness (though once she’s able to get away from endeavor, she’ll never be around him again), because she’s not a person that can live with anger in her heart, and i will always love how that’s presented as an entirely valid thing to do.

as a final addendum to this post, nearly no one knows about any of that. fuyumi won’t talk about it unless it’s entirely unavoidable, and even then she tries to make excuses and dance around it. like.... she stops up, she can’t speak. she freezes and completely stops functioning. ironic considering how openly her brothers will talk about it.

so anyways. i don’t think you expected this long winded answer, but i couldn’t help myself. thanks for sending this in !

#anonymous #✲ \ 𝚃𝙾 𝙸𝚂𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙴 ‚ meta.#long post //#child abuse //#domestic abuse //#child death //#ask to tag //#GOD THIS GOT SO LONG WINDED BUT I REEEEEAAAALLY WANTED 2 TALK ABT THIS....#BUT YES !! TO ALL OF THIS !!#MWAH THANK U ANON

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holidaywishes · 5 years ago

Text

Santa’s Pretend?

Requested: 🙅‍♀️

Summary: It’s Christmas time and the mall is packed. You take your daughter to the mall and Buck tags along because he wants in on the pictures.

Warning: Some fluff, but really just Buck with kids and saying Santa isn’t real.

Author’s Note: I saw this GIF set the other day of Buck + Kids and the last made me want to write a little thing about Buck saying Santa isn’t real to a kid and the mom trying to fix it. GIF NOT MINE! Don’t @ me.

masterlist

the other masterlist

Christmas was a major event for the entire month of December around your house. Your parents had made sure it would be that way when you were growing up and the traditions just kind of.. stuck when you had your daughter. She loved Christmas just as much as you did and she made sure to make as big of a deal of it as your parents did every year; often over-exaggerating certain details to her friends. But the last two Christmases had been difficult, after the divorce, and you could tell that your daughter was feeling the stress of it all.

“You ready for pictures?” you said enthusiastically to your daughter, who sat waiting for you on the couch while Miracle on 34th Street played on the screen.

“We’re going to see Santa!” she exclaimed

“And..” you started when there was a knock on the door, “Buck’s coming along for the day!”

“Hey kiddo!” He greeted your daughter when you opened the door, outstretching his arms to catch her in a hug

“BUCK!” she yelled out when she saw him, giggling when he picked her up.

“Do we have a game plan?” He asked your daughter, mocking a serious tone and raising his eyebrow at her

“We go in, stand in line, get the picture with Santa and then go skating!” She answered

“Wha-?” you gasped, laughing at your daughters response, “Miranda! Who said anything about skating? Buck and I might have some things to do today you know...”

“Skating won’t take long. Please!” your daughter whined and Evan joined her

“Pleeeaaaseeeee!” You rolled your eyes at them before finally giving in

“Fine. But only because it’s Christmas...” When the three of you got to the mall, Miranda immediately ran to line up to see Santa while you and Buck slowly followed behind her

“Thank you,” you said to Evan, holding his hand while you waited in line, “I know this isn’t exactly how you wanted to spend your day off”

“Are you kidding?” he countered with a smile, “I’d spend all of my days off like this. With you and Miranda.” You cuddled up next to him as the line moved slowly and kid after kid had their turn to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas; you and Evan watch as Miranda got more excited with every step she took.

“We’ll be back in five minutes everyone!” the Elf-Clad volunteer said from the makeshift North Pole, “Santa’s gotta recharge with some Hot Chocolate! Stay put and we’ll see you soon!”

“What?!” A man yelled from the front of the line, “we’ve been waiting here for three hours and now that we’re at the front of the line you’re walking away?”

“Sir, please,” the volunteer said calmly, “Santa needs a break. I understand that the wait has been long but his break will be quick. Believe me, he’ll be back in a Jiffy!” You and Evan smiled at each other at the young Elf’s attempt at staying positive

“I don’t give a rats ass!” he yelled, leading you to cover Miranda’s ears before the man said anything worse, “if he knew he was going to get so tired so fast maybe there should’ve been a maximum for this line up. To prevent all of us wasting our god damn time while he sits in the back and gets drunk!”

“YEAH!” the people in the lineup reinforced the mans points but you just looked around anxiously

“I mean why should we let a drunk guy in a costume talk to our kids in the first place?! Have them sit on his lap?!”

“YEAH!” The crowd repeated

“I’ve got shit to do today and I don’t want to waste another three hours waiting for Jolly ‘Ol St, Nck to come back just as drunk as when he left!”

“Mommy?” Miranda asked you, turning to face you, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing sweetheart,” you answered, “a man is just upset that Santa went on a break.”

“Santa went away?”

“He was thirsty so he went to get some Hot Chocolate!”

“Are we going to see him?!” Miranda asked, panic starting in her voice

“Of course, baby,” you said, brushing her hair behind her ear, “we just have to wait a little bit longer.”

“THERE’S KIDS HERE WHO WANT TO SEE SANTA!” A lady from behind you yelled, presumably after listening to the conversation between you and your daughter

“Miss please” Evan started

“Santa will be back soon and all the children will be able to see him before the day is done!” The volunteer repeated

“LET THE KIDS SEE SANTA!“

“Miss” You and Evan tried to calm the lady down before things got too out of control

“BRING BACK SANTA!” She chanted and it wasn’t long before the entire line was chanting along with her

“BRING BACK SANTA! BRING BACK SANTA! BRING BACK SANTA! BRING BACK SANTA!”

“IF YOU DON’T BRING HIM BACK,” you heard the man at the front shout, “I’LL GO BACK THERE AND BRING HIM OUT MYSELF!”

“BRING BACK SANTA! BRING BACK SANTA!”

“Mommy!” Miranda’s voice was trembling with fear and you kept her close to you

“Evan maybe we should go,” you whispered, “I don’t like this.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He agreed but not before the angry man stormed behind the curtain and brought out the Mall Santa who let out a string of curse words leaving all the parents desperately trying to cover their children’s ears

“Santa said bad words!” Miranda stated before Evan picked her up and the three of you left the line and made your way to the skating rink

“Miranda,” Evan started, kneeling in front of your daughter to try to explain, “I know you heard Santa say some bad words but you don’t have to worry about that okay?”

“Why not?” Miranda asked and you listened intently, furrowing your brow as you were unsure of what he was going to say

“Because that wasn’t really Santa!”

“What?!” Miranda exclaimed and you hastily shook your head as your eyes grew wider at his confession, hoping he’d notice you

“No see. That guy was just pretending to be Santa!”

“EVAN!” You yelled in a whisper to him to get him to look at you

“Santa’s pretend?!” Miranda started to cry, “Mommy! Why is Buck saying that Santa isn’t real?!“ You knelt down in front of her, glaring at Evan before looking your daughter in her eyes

“Let’s go get some Hot Chocolate okay?”

When you got home, Evan lingered outside the door not wanting to overstep his bounds.

“Come in, Evan...” You smiled and he obliged

“So...” Miranda started, climbing up on the couch, “Santa’s not real?”

“I shou--” Evan began but you stopped him by putting a finger in front of his lips, smiling at him before shaking your head.

“Do you remember when I first told you the story of Santa Claus?” You asked and she nodded as Evan slowly sat on the adjacent couch, “Did you ever have any questions about how any of it was possible? Even when I told you it was magic?”

“I guess...” she replied

“Well here’s the truth. There isn’t one Santa. The Santa at the mall was one of many Santa's”

“So Santa is pretend..? How do the presents get under the tree and in the stockings?”

“Well.. Mommy does that.” Her eyes fell to the floor, “your grandparents did that for me and their parents did that for them and so on. That alone doesn’t make us Santa.”

“I don’t understand” she admitted and you smiled

“There is magic in Christmas. In the things that you cannot see and can only feel and believe in. Santa is that magic for so many of us, even if he’s not a real person. We’re all Santa. We keep Santa alive so that the magic and the spirit of Christmas can live on in you and me and Evan and Chris and Eddie and Bobby and Daddy and everyone we know and love. Daddy and I taught you to believe in Santa so you could believe in yourself too. In your ability to be kind and loving and gentle and jolly and hopeful and giving and strong and happy. So, no, there’s no one Santa and they don’t live at the North Pole. Santa lives in our hearts. I’m Santa, Buck is Santa and you will be too. We’re all apart of this wonderful, magical secret as long as we keep the spirit alive. Does that make sense?”

“I think so.” She said as you leaned in to hug her tightly, “so like. We’re part of a secret club but we can’t tell anyone?”

“Yeah. Kind of.” She smiled at you, “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Mommy,” she jumped off the couch and started to run to her bedroom to get ready for bed, “I love you too Buck!”

“Love you kiddo!” He turned to you and smiled before dropping his head to the floor

“Hey” you laughed

“I’m sorry” he responded

“Don’t be. I think it’s good that we were able to talk about it. I mean, sure, maybe I would’ve liked it to happen differently but we were bound to have the conversation eventually.”

“You were great though” he smiled

“Trust me, I’ve been googling this stuff for years for fear that this day would come,” you confessed, “I found all these speeches on Pinterest. Thank Goodness for Pinterest.” You and Evan both laughed before you heard Miranda call out for him to tuck her in and you were left alone, realizing you know had to tell your ex that your daughter knew the truth about Santa.

#Evan Buckley #Evan Buck Buckley #911 #9-1-1 #911 on fox #9-1-1 on fox #master league #the other masterlist #Christmas #Christmas imagine #Christmas one shot #Christmas Blurb #Christmas Fic

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justphilia · 5 years ago

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There’s a definite chance I might not be writing this BUT

I had a detroit become human idea for a Mob Psycho fic, it’s pretty loose considering I had the idea while sitting in the back of a car and standing under the shower head.

There’s probably a chance I would be writing it but it’s kinda leaning to a “Nah, probably not”.

With that being said, I kinda don’t want to trash the idea as a whole without it meeting the light of day, so I’m gonna spill my ideas here so I can look back and think; “Wow. That’s shit.”

To add, this whole thing will sound more like babbling than an actual summary, so excuse me lmao.

Tsubomi doesn’t have any friends. But coming from a wealthy family, her parents decides to buy her a friend. Cue Shigeo/Mob.

I had a funny model name for all the child androids ‘ESP(insert number, for Shigeo it’s 100)’ despite this being a no powers AU. Then I realized it probably wouldn’t fit because I am low key planning for all the espers to be androids and realized ‘Wow, ha ha, that’s a lot of androids’ so now SOME of the espers are androids.

Okay so fast forward and Tsubomi’s parents are thinking, “We should replace Shigeo, he’s kinda old fashioned now.”

“Mom we only had him for 4 years.”

“Exactly.”

But Tsubomi’s really attached to Mob because he’s her best friend, and doesn’t tell him he might be replaced until he finds out himself. He goes bat shit crazy and tries to kill himself and Tsubomi. Cue Serizawa, a cop android.

Serizawa calms my boy down and Shigeo’s like, “You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m so--” bang. Tsubomi low key gets traumatized, Shigeo is bleeding blue on the floor.

We shift to the next scene where Shigeo wakes up on like a bed except it’s actually a table. Cue Reigen, he works at Cyberlife as a child therapist/repair worker. Actually, my man was suppose to be just a repair worker but he got promoted to child therapist for calming down a raging Teru.

“Kid, you remember anything?”

“I- Sorta? Where am I, am I gonna be killed?”

Reigen’s like sweating because he isn’t sure himself, Shigeo’s the first kid who tried to commit murder. But as they talked, Reigen’s kinda surprised to realize that Shigeo’s actually a really really sweet kid.

Shigeo asks how Tsubomi is doing and if she hates him. Reigen tells him she’s fine and she misses him. Which is the truth, but he doesn’t mention that Tsubomi did end up getting a replacement in fear of ticking Shigeo off. Cue Ritsu, the replacement android best friend.

There’s a sort of cell holding all the ‘defect’ child androids, like a little playroom but also an actual cell, and inside there’s: Gou, Rei, Takeshi, Daichi, Kaito and Teru.

Cue Teru, who is the only one who has a similar case to Shigeo; he punched a kid in the nose and sent him to the hospital, which made his mom very very pissed and sent him for repairs. Because of this, he’s enraged further and the staff can’t send him back unless his attitude changes to the “ideal son”.

Teru thinks being an android is a gift, he can’t die and he’s pretty much flawlessly shaped. When he meets Shigeo, he asks why he looks so plain, and it’s revealed it’s because Tsubomi didn’t want anything flashy.

And mostly because Shigeo’s an older model.

Each kid (except for Teru) had an actual defect to their system. Gou has somehow obtained a built in lighter function, which isn’t suppose to be there. Rei has the reconstruct and construct feature for unknown reasons. Takeshi is basically a walking magnet, except he doesn’t really know when it’s turned on or off (when it’s turned on, it’s strong enough to accidentally pull all the others towards him and it gets pretty annoying). Daichi and Kaito’s memory cloud keeps syncing with one another, which disrupts them from being able to remember the right things correctly (i.e Daichi gets Kaito’s memories and believes they are his own and vice versa).

The only reason they’re still stuck here is because they come from middle class families (except for Teru), so they’re way behind on the waiting list to get repaired.

Shigeo, on the other hand, came from a rich family, so he’d be out in no time. This makes Teru very mad, he states it isn’t fair that Shigeo gets to be let out sooner than them even though he just got here.

He tries to attack, but unfortunately for him, they’ve installed a software that prevents Teru from being able to kick and punch. Like a parental lock sorta? The same has been done to Shigeo.

Shigeo only makes Teru even more mad when he says he wishes he was human. If he wasn’t human, none of this would’ve happened, “Teru, if you were human, you wouldn’t be right here y’know? Your mom wouldn’t need to send a real human boy for repairs.”

And Teru is pissed because he knows Shigeo’s right.

But being the cunning bitch he is, he smiles and pretends to accept Shigeo’s opinion, and he asks for a hug. Shigeo happily agrees and let’s Teru wrap an arm around him.

Then Teru squeezes.

“Teru, I can’t, you’re crushing- I can’t--”

“Oh, I know. If I break you enough, you’ll have to stay here with us even longer.”

Shigeo tries to retaliate, but due to the software, he’s unable to kick himself free. The rest tries to intervene, but Teru threatens them to stay back or he’ll squeeze harder.

“Can a human do this? Shigeo? Can they?”

Shigeo manages to break through the system and finally breaks free, he’s back in his aggressive mode and actually starts attacking.

He takes it too far when he rips Teru heart out.

Everyone is screaming at this point and Reigen’s rushing towards the cell like mad. Serizawa is there too, because he wanted to visit Shigeo to see how he’s doing.

“Why are you running?”

“Something bad is happening, I need to be there- Woah there buddy!” Serizawa picks Reigen up and surprises him. Then the android fucking bolts.

When Reigen finally reaches the cell and enters, he finds Shigeo on the ground, bleeding out once again, and Teru staring motionlessly at Shigeo.

“He...gave me his heart.”

Shigeo is sent to be repaired again and this time, he’s kept in a separate cell, because no one knows how he managed to break through their system. It’s almost impossible for a child -and not to mention an OLD- model to be able to do that.

While Reigen’s thinking in his office, cue Mitsuura, who says it’d be a shame for all those child models to lose their cool abilities. He jokes about just creating a child model meant to possess those abilities, like a tiny cop or something.

Cue Suzuki, no no, the other Suzuki. Mommy Suzuki. Except she’s a single lady who surrounds herself with Touichirou, the first ever android model made. That’s right, she’s head of Cyberlife.

She comes in, because she can’t sit still, and says, “Not a bad idea, man.”

Mitsuura has a fit and thanks the woman.

“So, about that old model that broke my parental control lock?” She turns to Reigen and he huffs, shrugging.

“I really don’t know, ma’am.”

She hums, definitely interested. Unlike the OG DBH, in this AU, they’re more lenient in the deviancy of androids because Suzuki believes they can have rights too. Except they don’t need to get paid, unless they want to? Honestly my idea for that aspect is low key fuzzy.

So anyways, Suzuki remembers Mitsuura’s idea and basically starts sketching out the draft. Cue Shou, who doesn’t exist yet but he’s in the making.

“Can you take the extra components of those child androids and keep them somewhere for later use? I’ll be needing them.”

“Ma’am, those androids are at the back of the waiting list, we can’t just--”

“Just do it.”

Cue Roshuuto, who seriously believes they should just kill Shigeo. “He’s too dangerous” blah blah blah SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Anyways, Reigen doesn’t want to do that because a) android or not, that’s a kid and b) You can’t make that decision and neither can I. Only Suzuki can.

Roshuuto sorta frowns, because everyone knows Suzuki plays favorites; and that favorite is Reigen. He’s the reason why Touichi now has a bit of sentience, before that android was pretty ruthless.

So if Reigen personally doesn’t want to get rid of Shigeo, then Suzuki would say the same too.

Meanwhile, Teru has been showing signs of positive improvement in attitude, there’s a speculation it might’ve been because Teru now has Shigeo’s heart, but that’s just dumb. That kid believes he just killed another android and he’s not sure how he feels about it, so he decides the least thing he could do was to be a better android.

Since Shigeo doesn’t share the same cell as them and nobody told them Shigeo survived, everyone in the playroom thinks Shigeo is dead.

Teru gets sent back after that, and the rest of the kids got their needed repairs.

Meanwhile, Shigeo and Reigen has daily consultation sessions, where they try to find the source of Shigeo’s issues. It takes about a month and Reigen hands Shigeo his cellphone number, saying if Shigeo ever needed him, Reigen would be there.

Shigeo gets sent back to the Takane’s family, because if he doesn’t, Tsubomi will throw a fit. She doesn’t do it often, but when she does, it’s ugly. It’s not like she’s spoiled, but when she strongly and firmly wants something, she’s determined enough to get it.

Originally, Ritsu was meant to be a direct replacement of Shigeo. He even had the bowl cut and everything, but Tsubomi’s intelligent and manages to figure out Ritsu’s a fake. She doesn’t get mad at him though, he doesn’t deserve it, instead she just befriends him too. Ritsu becomes a whole new person he wants to be, even mussed up his hair to look different.

So Shigeo meets Ritsu for the first time, and he’s sorta confused and upset, but Tsubomi got attached to Ritsu as well and refuses to leave him. Ritsu says he’s glad to finally meet Shigeo, because he has heard so much about him, and Shigeo decides he could like Ritsu.

I kinda stop making ideas from here, but I had a rough idea what happens next. Teru and Shigeo do meet again at some point, and Ritsu does meet Shou at some point too.

There will be background Serirei, and Shigeo does eventually grow a crush on Tsubomi and confession and oh no it went wrong. I think that’s when Shou makes his first appearance?

Because they think a child can calm another child down. It doesn’t work.

Nobody realizes Reigen’s probably the only thing that can help until the very very last minute.

So anyways, that’s the end of it. I don’t know what to do with this idea because now that I’ve spilled them all on the table, I kinda feel like writing it now. Though I already have two other projects planned, one being Nap’s birthday gift fic and another being a secret project that features Ritshou and amnesia, so it might be delayed to maybe June :(

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #detroit become human #alternate universe #kageyama shigeo #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #hanazawa teruki #takane tsubomi #kageyama ritsu #suzuki shou #fanfic ideas

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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Every year, on the anniversary of Will’s disappearance, Joyce clings.

She clings and coddles and hugs and kisses and worries and dreads and attempts to mask her utter fear with smiles that don’t reach her eyes.

It’s always a sweet attempt. It never quite works.

After that first anniversary, where the Anniversary Effect turned into a Very Real Nightmare of, once again, fighting monsters and fearing for their lives, Will hasn’t been let outside on November 6th. There’s been no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He is locked inside of the house in the nicest, kindest, gentlest way possible.

Billy doesn’t know this.

So the first November 6th that they spend as a family, in 1985 after Hop has married Joyce and they’re all living together in the same house, Billy asks Will if he wants to go out and grab some dinner so that no one has to cook. He’s just trying to bring the energy up in the house, honestly. All day people have been keeping the energy stale at best. Joyce kept Will home from school even though he doesn’t look sick. Her face is pale, along with Jonathan’s, and Hop hasn’t done much more than grunt and rub Will’s shoulder when he passes by the boy. Billy’s not sure if he even went to work. El has been attached to Will’s hip, scrunching her nose up in a smile at him whenever he makes eye contact with her.

It’s just been weird and Will has looked like a goddamn prisoner all day and really, all Billy wants to do is get Will some fresh air and bring the mood up. He can’t handle it feeling this way. He feels like he’s out of the loop over here.

Will, from his place hunched on the couch, looks over to Joyce. Billy looks too when he sees it, only to find Joyce giving a scared and nervous look accompanied by a small shake of her head.

Will sighs softly. Billy’s surprised he hears it.

“Uh… no. I shou- I can’t.”

It doesn’t make any sense to Billy.

Like, seriously doesn’t make any sense to him. The boy is 14 and barely ever steps a toe out of line. He wasn’t asking him to go party on a school night, he was just wondering if they wanted to go pick up some burgers or a pizza or even some Chinese food god something.

Billy’s eyes furrow.

“Seriously? It’ll take like 2 seconds. I mean-” Billy pauses, rephrases. He knows Will can’t stand how fast Billy drives, so he has to slow it down for him. “Really like 20 minutes. But-”

“Billy, can I talk to you?” Jonathan asks with a hand pulling on Billy’s arm before he can even respond. He’s yanked out of the room against his own accord, allowing it just out of sheer confusion and curiosity.

“What?” Billy asks pointedly to a very tired looking Jonathan. Which is saying something, because Jonathan always looks like a truck just did a number on him.

“Do you know what day it is?” He whispers conspiratorially.

Billy blinks.

“Uhhhh… yeah? Tuesday?”

Jonathan takes a heavy breath, looking away for a second.

“It’s the… It’s…”

Billy watches the boy fumble with fleeting patience.

“It’s…..? What? Some weird fucking holiday? ‘No Burgers’ day? ‘Will Can’t Go Outside’ day?”

Jonathan sighs. “I mean… sort of.”

Billy’s eyebrows furrow.

“To which one, dummy?”

Jonathan sighs again. He’s getting on Billy’s last nerve.

“It’s the anniversary of Will’s disappearance.”

Billy freezes. Looks over to the living room as if he can see Will sitting on the couch from here. He can see his little socked feet swinging around against the floor.

“Uhh… oh.”

“Yeah. 2 years ago.” Jonathan’s got his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looks for all the world like a nervous child. Billy doesn’t know how to feel.

“And he has to stay inside… because?”

“Mom gets nervous about him going out.”

“I mean, I get it but-”

“C’mon, Billy. Don’t stir the pot.”

Billy rolls his eyes, like he doesn’t feel an immense pressure in his chest from this. From all of it. From what he can only imagine it must feel like to have that hanging over your head. Always in your mind. Always in the back corner of your thoughts whispering and feeding and gnawing like a parasite.

Remember the monsters?

Billy remembers them. Remembers the cold and the intense heat and the looming fear that never left. Never rested. Never loosened its hold.

But…

“Fine. Then I’ll just go get food for everyone by myself.” Billys says, walking out into the living room to grab his keys and go pick up a pizza.

And so every year, even after Billy and Jonathan have gone away to college, they come back for the anniversary. Joyce insists they don’t have to, even though it’s clear in her eyes and voice that she’d very much appreciate it. Jonathan insists that they do have to, and reiterates to Billy how important it is for all of them that they all come by.

“I know John-boy, you’ve told me a billion times. I’ll make it.”

“Why do you still insist on calling me John-boy?”

“Because you insist on making it fun for me.” Billy says before hanging up the phone.

And so they go to visit. They all sit around and watch reruns of TV shows. They play board games.

It’s weird. The vibe is still so off. And Billy hates to look at Will because he looks so sullen. So pale and afraid and nervous of the walls of his house. Like something’s going to break through, to crawl out, to grab for him. Joyce spends all day near Hopper. It’s the one day Billy has ever seen her smoke a cigarette. Hop still tries to keep away from them, but he joins her out on the porch anyway, if only for a little bit. He always comes back inside fairly quickly so he can keep an eye on the door or something.

But now it’s 1988 and Will is 17 and the fear and the tremors of everyone’s body is gone. Jonathan and Billy come by to visit just because it’s what they do. No one clings to each other or jumps at sounds or shivers like it’s cold in their house even under blankets.

But Will still doesn’t go outside.

And it drives Billy crazy.

So he stands in Will’s doorway, looking at the boy laying across his bed, reading some nerdy book Billy would probably enjoy if he took the time to sit down and read it.

“Hey, pipsqueak-” His eternal name for Will, no matter the fact that he’s 17 now and reaching Billy’s height. “Wanna go grab some ice cream?”

Will doesn’t even look up from his book.

“It’s cold out.” is all he says, flipping the page. His foot starts to shake absently.

Billy rolls his eyes. “Alright, smartass, wanna grab some lunch?”

“I don’t have any money.” Will lies through his fucking teeth. The kid always has money, Billy knows it.

“I’d pay for you, kid. You know that.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Billy sits in his hip, tired and irritated.

“Alright fine. Wanna take a walk.”

“Not really.”

“And why not?”

Will looks up like Billy’s stupid. Billy’s just grateful to see him look up.

“It’s cold out.”

“I’ll wrap you up in every sweater you own, come on.” Billy says in his Big Brother Voice that he’s been using for years now. He grins a bit to see it still works on the younger boy, who’s eyes widen a bit with worry and whose face flushes a tad in nervousness.

“Why?”

“Because sitting around like a fucking vegetable isn’t healthy for you, c’mon. We can grab a cookie or something at the bakery on that corner let’s just do something. No one will miss us.”

It’s true. Everyone’s off doing their own thing. Jonathan is hanging out with Nancy in his room, who accompanied him on his visit. El is with Max outside, playing around on their own skateboards (Max got El one for Christmas last year). Hop and Joyce are cuddled up on the couch, watching reruns and laughing gently. Steve came along with Billy on the trip, but he was forced into a very long afternoon with Dustin and his mother. (Forced in the kindest way, obviously. The woman loves him and he loves their little family right back. She’s always knitting him sweaters and stuff.)

“I… I dunno…” Will says timidly. Billy crosses his arms.

“C’mon, what could you possibly have to do that’s more fun than hanging out with me?”

“Lots of things.” Will says through a crack in his voice.

Billy just doesn’t believe this shit, though. He lets the pause hang in the air, making his disbelief known.

“... what, did you get a boyfriend that you didn’t tell me about?”

That does it. Will’s face is beet red in a matter of seconds, his book falling loosely in his grip because suddenly other matters are a lot more pressing.

“...! Wha- uh! Don’t say that!”

Billy cackles. “Seriously, did you?”

“Cut it out!”

“If you don’t come with me on a walk, I’m gonna have to assume that you’ve got a boy hidden somewhere in your room.”

“Billy, cut it out.”

Billy pauses, shit eating grin consuming his face.

“He’s in your closet, isn’t he?”

“Billy!”

But Billy isn’t listening and Will isn’t moving from his spot on the bed, so Billy saunters up to Will’s closet with a mention of: “If it’s that Wheeler kid I swear he’s dead meat.”

“Billy shut up!” Will whines, book slammed shut and tossed onto his bed as he moves onto his knees to get off the bed and, presumably, go after Billy.

Billy swings the closet open to find-

Lots of clothes. No boys.

“Billy. I don’t have a boy in my closet.” Will seethes, which only makes Billy cackle more.

“And how was I supposed to know that? You got a new hair cut, maybe you turned into a real casanova.” Billy reaches a hand out to muss up Will’s new hairdo. Will swipes at Billy’s hands weakly. “Okay, get your jacket, lets go.”

Will whines lowly.

“It’s cold out.” He mutters, turning around to go on a search for a jacket.

“Get your thickest jacket and let’s go.”

So in a few minutes they’re saying goodbye to everyone, who only give Will farewells with the smallest of worry in them, and they set out through the trees and towards town.

It’s quiet. The space between them is nippy, but not too cold to breathe. Billy’s eyeing Will every now and then. His shoulders are so high his neck probably aches, his eyes are shifty but always make it back to the ground.

He’s growing into a handsome boy, and is still the same sweet kid Billy’s always known. It sucks to see him be so afraid of everything. He shouldn’t have to feel afraid in a place he’s always called home. Billy knows what it’s like to be afraid of home. Will doesn’t deserve that, not even for a second. There are so many gross, shitty kids in this town that don’t have the same kind of weight on their shoulders; don’t have to be worried about the same of the kind of memories that Will has. It’s not fair.

Will’s mouth starts moving like he wants to say something, but no words come out. Billy saves him.

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” He says, tilting his head up to the sky and watching the patchy gray clouds hover. There’s some kind of relieved sound that comes from Will’s small being. “It’s just…”

Billy sighs. He lets the cloud of his breath dissipate before he speaks again.

“It’s better to do anything. Anything but sit there and think about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it.” Will’s voice is small. Unconvincing.

“The more you sit around, the more you’re gonna think about it.”

Will doesn’t have a response to that, so Billy looks over at him. Sees his pensive face that falls into something like acceptance. Knowing.

Billy nudges Will’s shoulder with his arm.

“Trust me, pipsqueak. I know.”

Will gives a small smile. Insists he’s not a pipsqueak anymore. Billy insists he’ll always be one.

And they walk. They head to that little bakery Billy mentioned. They talk about boys and crushes, and Will’s face is red throughout the entire conversation. They talk about Billy and Steve. They talk about what life is like outside of Hawkins and how “You’re gonna love it, kid. I swear. You’re gonna love it.”

And Billy sees it on Will’s face. Sees Will relax. Sees Will melt into himself, even just a little bit, and finally believes that the boy will be able to move past this horrible feeling. This horrible anniversary effect. Sees Will and finally believes that he’s ready to move on.

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oh-boleyn · 5 years ago

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te para tres

words: 3805, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)

author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3

tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness

part one: las tazas sobre el mantel

un poco de miel

They get into the apartment. Katherine is a mess, but getting slowly better. Her eyes are red rimmed for all the crying, cheeks puffy and crimson. Jane takes a moment to contemplate her. If she didn’t before, she certainly looks like a child now, small, curled up on herself, and young — so young.

Her clothes are obviously too big, hanging from her body. She is more than thin, probably what is expected from someone living on the street, but definitely not healthy.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Jane offers, fighting an urge to reach out to the girl.

“Yes.”

She puts her hands to use in making the tea, trying to calm the itch to touch the teen, while Katherine stands awkwardly calming her breath in the middle of the room. She doesn��t want to be alone, but at the same time is too afraid to ask for the older to stay with her.

Jane sets two mugs on the table, gesturing to Katherine to take a seat. She obeys, almost instantly. The long-sleeved shirt and a pair of leggings, catches Jane’s attention. If she still feels freezing with her coat on, the girl must be gelid.

“Are you cold?” She questions.

Katherine shrugs, without giving a proper answer. Jane doesn’t push for one. She extends a hand over the table, slowly, making sure to not overwhelm the other with the gesture. Surprise comes when the hand is quickly grabbed by Katherine, who starts crying again.

Jane moves forward and embraces Kat, letting her cry without trying to stop her. As expected, she is icy, and the future mother is growing afraid about her catching a cold or something worse. Searching for Kat’s bag, she realizes that the usual backpack is not with her.

“Sweetheart,” The way to call her comes almost instinctive for Jane, who hates herself for a moment thinking she might make Katherine uncomfortable. “do you have something with you?”

“I… I ran.” It enough for Jane to shush her.

“Would you like to take a shower?”

“Can I stay with you for a moment?” Katherine almost begs.

“Yes, as you wish, but you are going to get sick, so I will go for a blanket, would that be alright?”

The girl dissents.

“If we went for one, would that be better?”

She repeats the movement.

“I’m so sorry Jane.” Her voice breaks. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s alright Kat, it’s alright.”

They spend the night just sitting, drinking the tea that at some point lost its warmth, talking about trivialities. There is a stiffness in the air none of them can erase, and Katherine flinches from time to time, depending on a sound or a sudden movement. Jane gets Kat to smile at some point, which is more than what she was expecting.

The older woman thinks her words over time and time again, hesitant to not lose all the progress they made, but reluctant to just rely on it. She knows Kat is frightened, and she deserves to feel safe, but Jane is not sure how she can manage to do so. That doesn’t stop her from trying.

(…)

Next morning finds them in little to no sleep, with Katherine asking Jane to please go and rest. The older one does the same to her. After the initial unwillingness, the teenager agrees to sleep on the couch.

(…)

Katherine is confused when she wakes up.

She has a headache, mind foggy about last night's events. Memories don’t come instantly, and panic creeps in. The air of her lungs missing, she guides a hand to her chest. Kat is inside a house, but can’t remember how that happened.

“Kathy? Love?” Jane calls. “Breathe with me.”

She can hear someone talking, but can’t process the words. She can’t distinguish the hand touching her arm, nor the woman in front of her. Her body seems to not belong to her mind, and instead she freezes, but her breath remains hard and troubled.

When she snaps back, blue eyes stare at her.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters.

“It’s alright love.”

(…)

“I think I will be going, thank you for today.” Katherine says, but Jane stops her.

“You can stay.” She offers it before having the chance to really think about it. “You can stay here, at least until you get back your things.”

Katherine forgot it. Her bag was just left in the street, it was probably gone by now. It happened to have all her clothes and her toothbrush, and most importantly her art supplies. The money earned the previous evening was the only thing in her pockets.

The fear goes down her spine, even if Jane has just been kind to her, how long would it take for her to get tired? To stop helping? Nobody was just kind because it was the right thing to do. The world didn’t work around generosity.

“I don’t want to stay.” She snaps.

As soon as she said it, a part of her was sure it was a lie.

The apartment, even if scary, was great. It had water. Since they met, Jane gave her food regularly. Katherine was eating almost every day, as well as talking to someone. It felt like being back to being alive. Almost as if she was a person again.

“What if I offer you just a place to stay at night?” Jane questioned. “You can spend your day doing whatever you want to do, I won’t stop you, but you have to come here before dinner.”

Her voice is stern, the older knows she can’t take back the proposal once it’s done. The fear lays heavy on her, after watching the girl yesterday it only became worse. She doesn’t know Katherine, not at all. All she knows are trivialities, her liking for the colour pink and one or two stories about her past.

A part of her trust the teenager, maybe considering her too young to even be evil, or it could be just her own naiveté.

“What’s the catch? What do you want in return?”

“Nothing.” Jane is quick to say it. “But you will have to respect some rules, such as not doing drugs nor make anything that could cause us harm. I might ask for help from time to time. Outside that, nothing more.”

“I’m not a charity case for you to feel better with yourself.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Katherine toys with her fingers. “I just need time to get back on my feet, that’s all.”

“You have all the time you need.”

(…)

Jane notices Kat wakes up first, every day, without fail.

She just bolts awake, and when the older comes out of her room, she is usually resting on the couch, toying with her hands.

The first task Katherine receives relates to it.

Consisting on turning the TV on, and enjoying herself watching whatever she wants until the clock marks five minutes before Jane’s alarm. The teenager’s obligation is making the tea while Jane fixes something for both of them to eat, normally eggs, tomatoes and bread for the pregnant woman, morning sickness deciding it was the only plate she might eat without throwing up, while Katherine ate what Jane offered, one time even offering pancakes.

The second task is helping her before dinner, helping with the clothes for the next shoot. Katherine gets to keep some garments, which are gladly received after the lost bag. She never keeps anything that appears to be too expensive, nor anything that can’t fit in the new backpack she got from a charity, still Jane keeps it all, just in case Katherine might want it someday.

The third task she takes it herself. Katherine starts cleaning the dishes every night after dinner, just before moving to the couch. It makes her feel better, less guilty about living off Jane. She starts considering that maybe good things can happen to her.

(…)

Working is not exactly as great as it used to be.

Jane gets headaches at any given moment, and without having the capacity of just taking any pill to make them disappear, her work load gets heavier to do. She almost ends up mixing the light orange shirts with the sweet peach ones, what could’ve been a chaos if they did the shot that way.

Katherine’s well being still worries her, even if she spends more time in the house nowadays, she is still not living there, and she spends hours on the street. Jane is afraid that one day she might not come back, that something might happen to her, but she pushes through.

“Everything okay?” Anna questions.

“I am just worrying over Kath.”

“Whom?” Cathy interrupts.

“Katherine, she is a girl from the street who is staying with me at night.” Jane explains.

“That is kind, Seymour.” Aragon talks.

The three women stare at her for a moment, not knowing about their boss's presence.

“We will get back to work.” Anna says, turning to grab her camera.

“Girls, don’t worry.” Catherine makes a sign to Anna for her to return to the conversation. “How old is this girl?”

“Fifteen. She should be turning sixteen soon.”

“Oh, she is younger than Mary. Fifteen is a rough age.”

“She is a lovely child, still she doesn’t talk a lot.” Jane takes a deep breath. “I have been taking the extra clothes home for her, I hope that is not a problem.”

“It isn’t. God knows people in fashion think that wearing something twice is bad. As if!” Aragon offers a smile. “Gift her any extra clothes. But gift me the summer photoshoot.”

(…)

"Kat? Do you mind sharing the couch?" Jane asks, softly.

"No, why?"

"I am not tired, at all. Must be some second trimester thing. Do you want to watch a movie?" She proposes.

"Sure. Let me clean the dishes first."

Katherine moves from the table, taking the plates with her. Jane shifts to the couch, turning on the TV. She idles changing channels, settling on a movie that is just starting when the teenager comes to sit next to her. They stare at it for a while, without talking nor sitting closer, still it's comfortable.

"I think I saw this movie, but I can't remember." Katherine comments.

"Do you want to see something else?"

"No, not really. I like comedies." The teenager smiles.

Moving slowly, she rests her head on Jane's shoulder. The older one helped her settle.

Before she realizes, Katherine is peacefully asleep, snorting softly, more relaxed than what Jane ever saw her. It makes her consider that the girl practically looks happy, far from the haunted look she had the first time she got into the house.

That night, both of them sleep on the couch.

(…)

Katherine bites her tongue not to announce that it was her birthday.

Jane doesn’t understand why the teenager is acting so angry, snapping at her at any given chance. For the last week or so she acted different, strange. Almost getting in too late, and refusing to finish her food. She seemed to be anywhere else, not living in the moment but rather being in another world.

If it wasn’t because she found her crying just before going to sleep, she wouldn’t have known.

“Kath? Dearest? What’s going on?”

“It’s my birthday.” Katherine talks between sobs.

Jane gives a glance to the clock and grabs two coats.

“Wear this, we are going out.”

Katherine is afraid that it might be Jane’s way to kick her out. She changes as quickly as she can with trembling hands. She makes sure to take her bag, thinking if her new toothbrush is there.

They get to a 24 hours café, where Jane orders two pieces of cake as soon as they arrive.

“If I had known, we would have done this way sooner.” She smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were coming here, I was afraid it might be closed and didn’t want to give you false hope. But, cake is on it’s way. Happy birthday, Katherine.”

Tears are streaming freely down her face.

“It is the first time I hear it in three years.” She confesses. “I have been living three years as if I don’t exist. People walked past me and didn’t care. I was kicked out of stores, restaurants, malls. I felt like I have forgotten kindness, I hated this day and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it is easier this way, protect myself. I don’t want to be a nobody without a birthday.”

“Love, you are not a nobody. You are Katherine, the girl who sleeps on my couch and watches Disney before I am even awake. I am so fond of you; you don’t have an idea.” She kisses the teenager’s temple. “You are not a nobody for me, and probably for the baby in the future. I want you to stick around. Maybe next year you can have a proper birthday, what do you say?”

Katherine squeezes herself on Jane’s side, hugging her strong but carefully not to put so much pressure in the growing bump.

“Happy birthday, love.” Jane whispers, stroking the girl’s hair.

(…)

One day, the older woman wakes up to quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. She arises from bed, careful. The couch looks like a mess, and one of the pillows is without its case.

“Katherine? Sweetheart? Are you in the bathroom?”

“Yes, I will come out in a minute, I swear.”

“Do you have clothes on? Can I come in?”

The teenager doesn’t answer, but she opens the door.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s just…” Her breath is heavy, and there are traces of tears on her cheeks. “I got my period, and I made a bit of a mess, and I don’t have pads, and- “

Jane shushes her. “Don’t worry, periods are normal.” She opens the cabinet, grabbing a pack of pads. “Here, use them, it’s not like I can find them of any use right now.”

She laughs, putting a hand slowly on her stomach. It is still not noticeable, but there is a swell that wasn’t there before.

“Clean yourself, I will bring some clothes.” Jane takes the pillowcase, and before crossing the door, questions: “Do you want a painkiller?”

“Please.” Kat begs.

When she is left alone, the teenager starts getting into the shower, feeling warm water on her skin. It’s the first time she decides to have a real shower. Most of the time she cleaned herself as best as she could, trying to not take her clothes away in case someone spied on her, but Jane proved to be trustworthy, hence why she was slowly relaxing.

The truth was that Jane could also kick her out any day, so she shouldn’t fall into fully relaxing. Turning sixteen meant more chances to find a job, trying to have money for herself. Still, no one wanted to hire a girl without studies or even a fixed address. Katherine trusted herself, she had been living and passing by for most of her –if not her whole— teenage life.

Hearing a knock on her door, she lets Jane come in. The curtain of the shower covering her.

“I left you some clothes, I think those should fit you well, Cathy gave them to you.” She makes a pause. “I also left underwear, it’s new, I have some more in my wardrobe in case wanted or needed.”

Katherine hears the door click, and slowly goes out of the shower.

There lays new underwear, including a black sports bra. Also, a pair of leggings, a shirt and a bright pink pullover. She quickly changes, making sure not to leave a wet path behind her, and cleaning any chaos she might’ve left behind.

Jane is in the kitchen, waiting for her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, periods are just natural.” Jane says. “How long does your period last? Do you want me to buy you more pads?”

Katherine twitches her nose. “I don’t know, it’s my first period.”

Jane frowns.

“Living on the street meant not eating every day, I once spent four days without eating. A lady told me that might be the reason I never got my period. She gifted me pads, but they stole that backpack not long after.”

“I will just say, periods are gross, and painful sometimes. I’m here if you need me, even if I am luckily not having my periods for some more months.”

The way Jane laughs helps Katherine to relax, falling into the comfortable house they have started to build. It was strange, that knowing each other for a couple of months they felt like they belonged. A familiar feeling, as something long lost.

(...)

"Katherine, do you have something to do today?"

"I was going to try and get some money, you know singing. I need to get my art stuff back, people pay more for that rather than any singing I can do." She explained.

"I will pay you if you help me grocery shopping." Jane offers.

"No, don't pay me. I'll go but don't pay me, you are doing enough already." Katherine says. "When are we going?"

"I will change clothes first, are you ready?" Jane questions.

"Yeah, sure."

They get to the store not long after, deciding on going with public transport instead of taking a taxi.

Katherine can feel her anxiety building up. Walking through the entrance is dreadful, something she clearly doesn't want to do, but Jane is talking so happily and carelessly that the idea of running away makes her feel guilty.

She pulls through it. Nobody asks her to go away, instead they are nice. When Jane asks where the sugar aisle is a man smiles and offers to take them there. People are not surprised or disgusted by her presence like they usually were, they just don’t care. Not in a bad way, but rather a normal one. Not like she is invisible, but as she is an equal.

They pass through an aisle with lots of hair products, and Katherine stares at it for a moment.

“Do you want hair dye?” Jane questions.

“No, thank you.”

“You sure? I love weird hair color.” She gives an attentive look. “Look, they have fuchsia! It would look so good on you.”

“Really?” Katherine looks unconvinced, but the idea tempts her.

“Yes! Really.” Jane picks it. “I can dye your hair today when we get home. What do you think?”

Katherine nods.

Her anxiety driven day ends up with both of them in the bathroom, reading how to apply the dye while eating the cookies they got from their trip back. For a night, she gives herself the opportunity to just be a teenager, caring about her hair and looks.

It feels good.

Being with Jane feels good.

(…)

“I don’t want to go there.” The teenager protests.

“But they can help you, they have programs to go back to school.”

“Those places are dumb, and you are dumber if you think I am going.”

Katherine was being impossible.

Sooner or later she had to start planning her future, a future that didn’t involve living on the streets, but when bringing back any organization that might help, the younger refused. Didn’t even want to check the websites, nor talk about it.

Was her baby going to be so stubborn?

“Why? Please, just give me a reason.” Jane begged.

“I don’t like those places; I went to most of them. They offer help but don’t have anything.” Katherine explained, voice growing lower. “I went there for the first few nights, and it was horrible. If you are not there really soon, they no longer have beds. And older teenagers are more used to being on the street, they take advantage and…” There were tears in her eyes. “I don’t like it. Don’t send me away.”

“I won’t.”

Katherine released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“I won’t send you away Kath, I just want the best for you.” Her voice is sweet, soothing. “I know you are brilliant, and would do great in school.”

They stay in silence.

Katherine’s mind is reprimanding herself for what she said. Jane always had a family, a place to live. She didn’t understand at all what she was going through. How many times her things got stolen to the point she almost didn’t care when it happened again. How many nights she stayed up, afraid of any men walking on the street.

Jane didn’t know about Thomas, how he took her to his apartment, and made her sleep on his bed. Didn’t know about Francis, about last summer at her step-grandmother’s house. Didn’t know about Manox, about his music lessons.

She knew the older woman was trying her best, which was more than what any other person tried to do.

(…)

“You haven’t told your family?” Katherine questions.

Jane shrugs, finishing eating her lunch.

Today was her fifth month checkup, and they decided to have lunch together until the older had to go. Feeling at ease with each other was slowly getting more common. Starting activities such as watching movies or cooking together helped with their relationship, to the point Katherine almost considered Jane as a mentor.

“I wanted to wait, pregnancies before three months can be considered as risky ones. I was afraid I might lose it.” She explained, guiding a hand to her stomach. “But now I just fear their reaction.”

The teenager goes slightly pale, her eyes inspecting Jane before she asks: “Would they hate you?”

“No, they won’t. But I don’t think they would be happy either.” She makes a pause. “Do you want to come with me?”

Katherine eagerly nods.

#six the musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour #Katherine Howard

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