#this is a commission from a friend who wanted a hurt + comfort scene but they changed their mind last minute saying they need mlre soft

[alondrathegiraffe]

bound to falling in love 🎶

[localwriterdocx]

Stoner or Sober: Scott Pilgrim Headcanons

From somebody who injects weed into my veins, who do I think partakes in this activity too?

NOTES: I have only seen the movie and Takes Off. I have only read up to before Todd's defeat in the comics and I know vague spoilers. Ken and Kyle are not here because they don't get a lot of development in either.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drug use, Mentions of drug abuse, Slight Spoilers for Scott Pilgrim Takes Off / Scott Pilgrim vs The World. Maybe a little OOC

Scott:

No, Sober. He rarely drinks, he doesn't even BEGIN to touch on weed. He briefly tried it before with either Wallace or Envy in college, but called it quits. He didn't like it much then, doesn't like it more now. When he first moved in with Wallace, he would sometimes accidentally eat edibles Wallace put out for himself, now he knows not to touch Wallace's food.

Ramona:

Occasionally. She used to be really into it when she was in highschool. She still occasionally uses it, but uses it less now because she was using it to hurt herself. I headcanon she used it a lot more when she was with Gideon. It made her not care about the abuse she was suffering from with him. She only does it with people she trusts now and needs more reassurance.

Kim:

YES, That is a stoner right there. That's one of the reasons he roommates hate her, she's in her room puffing off her bong. Tried it in her first year of college, and became really into it near the end. It's kind of hard to tell when she's been smoking because she really doesn't change much outwardly. She is the best person here to smoke with.

Stephen:

Occasionally. He doesn't smoke, but he has taken gummies before. He uses it to calm his anxiety down occasionally. Doesn't buy it himself, but if Julie or Neil offers one to him, he's not one to really say no. He's always hesitant when he's offered one, but everyone including himself knows he's going to take it. If he takes one, he is out of commission for the rest of the day.

Young Neil:

Yes. This entry is mainly targeted towards Comic Neil. Even though its not healthy, that's how he deals with his problems. He really just needs to set down the bong sometimes. He eventually would begin to have a healthier relationship with it. Sometimes he goes off with Kim and they go smoke together. I think that Kim would really help him get his shit together and begin to have a healthier relationship with it.

Wallace:

Occasionally. He's tried it, but he doesn't like to mix weed and alcohol, so he usually just sticks with alcohol. Like, he's not going to say no if he's offered it, hell sometimes he goes and searches it out. Has gotten Scott to do it on multiple occasions. He likes to smoke in a group, even if Scott is pulled into it, he can't be left alone.

Julie:

Yes. It's mainly when she's upset and needs something to calm her down. Luckily, she doesn't need it as much as Neil thinks he does. Probably smokes/does edibles once or twice a week. No preference in methods. She gets less bitchy and she likes to sit on the couch watching shitty rom-coms. She usually would want to be alone, but when Gordon came down to her place, she loves getting stoned with him, even if he's not doing any.

Matthew:

No. He just hasn't run into it at a time he wanted to try it. He's comfortable with hanging out with a lot of stoned people, that's not an issue for him, he actually likes it, he thinks its funny. He gets a little curious when it gets brought up, or when somebody mentions it, but wouldn't go out of his way to obtain it. He's just not really interested. If he were ever to get blazed, I think his demon hipster chicks would be blazed too.

Lucas:

Yes, he gets blazed back at his trailer (THIS IS CANON TO THE MOVIE BTW). He's not a absolute pothead, he just likes to partake in it regularly. After a pretty rough day of shooting scene after scene, he like to light up his bong and have a fun night with his friends. Doesn't like taking gummies, it's either smoking it or nothing. He just can't get over the taste.

Todd:

Yes. Envy always has to find him the Vegan strands so he can keep his powers. Envy also has to shut him up when he's talking about it because it's just normal for him. Sometimes uses it to calm his pre-show jitters. He doesn't smoke as much as Envy, but that's because he doesn't like rolling, and Envy kept the bong in the divorce.

Envy:

Yes. She loves it, but doesn't like to tell people about it and will only tell people she trusts. Unlike Todd, she doesn't like using it before a show, she's not willing to risk it. Besides from Todd, the only person that knows she's fond of it is Scott. If Wallace found out, that shit would be on the cover of every celebrity gossip magazine, she would also be charged because this is 2001.

Roxie:

Yes. Like Neil, when Ramona left her, she used it a lot to get over her problems. Now she realized that was unhealthy and stopped for a bit. With her and Ramona making up (In SPTO), she is now trying to have a healthier relationship with it because she did genuinely like it. I think her and Todd are stoner buddies, she used to just go over so she could flirt with Envy, but they became like a stoner trio.

Gideon:

No. Never tried it, and I don't think he ever will. Maybe, MAYBE Julie would get him to try it, but I honestly don't think he would like it. He might try it a few times when he's throwing his pity party, but after that, he's done. He still hangs out with Julie when she does it though. He wouldn't like the way it makes him feel.

Thank you for reading my stoner headcanoning, there will be more.

[sarahsartedits]

Riding on a dream with you

“Looks like I finally win, Red”-Roxas

Firstly I’d like to thank my mom for helping me pay for my art commission so that this exists visually! 🥰

Big thanks to @ultyso for this amazing beautiful artwork🌳🍃of one of the scenes in the story below❤️‍🔥 ⬇️

Also thanks to the roxiri server for listening to my ideas for this god knows this was all I talked about lol thanks to supportive roxiri friends & others who have inspired me @starrattlerofprydain @skytsunrose @roxaskairi @alphascorpiixx @whatsupfluff @dogoncabrera @eradicatetehnormal @twfated @twilight-blaze @paopubell @rxcketrvcer @yume127 @incorrectroxiriquotes2

Roxiri motocross au reimagined one shot set in the year 2000

Written for Roxiri from an idea I had earlier last summer mostly constructed from my imagination & decided to expand by a lot lol I’m not a writer & is only my second time writing anything similar to fanfics so forgive mistakes & grammatically errors. also this softly implies namixi & soriku going on in the background but doesn’t take center stage. Sora & Riku is briefly necessary adversaries for Kairi’s motivations it’s not meant to be bashing we like them over here. also don’t know shit about motocross I made shit up to fit my narrative

Warning smoking & language heavy angst & on with the story

Todays the day she thinks as she prepares for her challenge, Kairi is an inspiring motor biker determined to join the destiny islands motocross team, to put her skills to the test in competition & hopefully build back friendships with childhood friends Sora & Riku. she goes through tough impossible obstacles each time to join the team on purpose to vote no on her joining. Sora cheerfully laughs afterwards saying “oh hey that’s too bad, Kairi I’ll make it up to ya I’ll take you to the movies, my treat!” Kairi huffs “when i crawl up & die, I knew you’d do this, jerk” after walking over to blow smoke into Sora’s face as she stocks off as Sora gasps for air “fine be ungrateful! Man, what a hag!’’ Kairi rolls her eyes & balled up her fists what did she expect Sora & his team is full of guys who seem to have a negative attitude towards her in general with joining up. “Oh it’s too dangerous, you’d just get hurt.” As he continually keeps her off the team & from competing. She hears Riku comfort Sora telling him “don’t worry he did the right thing’’ & that she’s “baggage” to the team. It’s was his usual prep talk to Sora & the team that she was too delicate to be even riding a motor bike much less allow her on the team, use the trails & gear? Kairi frowned she couldn’t believe these were the same boys she’d hung out with most of her life?

Kairi lost in thought arrives home & finds boxes all over the house because kairi’s single & crazy indecisive mom Kayla decides to move them to twilight town in with her new boyfriend Nathan & his daughter Namine. At this point Kairi is up for anything to get away from obnoxious sexist boys & being blackballed by the other girls. She had met Namine a few times before moving to their apartment. To her surprise the blonde girl was very friendly & at the same time withdrawn & quite, mentioned by her father for her love for art & painting. Kairi was super intrigued by the girl & was hopeful that they’d be like sisters. Meanwhile Kayla brags on Namines art & mannerisms wishing kairi was more like her instead of having nasty habits like smoking & “dirt biking”. Such a nasty sport for young girls it was bad enough for your father look where it got him. Kairi rolls her eyes sure mom whatever as she puts out a cigarette. Namine looks like she wants to say something to Kayla but doesn’t just bows her head & looks away. Kairi doesn’t notice she can just tell her moms gonna ruin this relationship too of course.

When they finally get moved in, Namine enters Kairi’s room with a welcome home gift art piece as she was hesitant to, from Kairi defensive attitude towards Kayla for the most part. As they had a disagreement on taking her bike as Kayla wasn’t wanting it brought since she wanted Kairi to start over in a new town with new hobbies kairi was livid at the thought that bike was hers. It’s was gift from her dad a fellow rider who died in a biking accident. Kairi looks up with a small smile as she removes her headphones, ‘hello Namine. Sorry about earlier. Mother just doesn’t get me.” Namine hands kairi the rolled up artwork returning a smile, “you know, you could try out for twilight town’s motocross team you mentioned earlier of the hard time they gave you over on Destiny islands?” Kairi examines it as she puts in on the wall & ponders “i… just don’t know Namine… I mean what would be the difference?” Namine, “ well you said you think they don’t let girls on the team? Well that’s definitely not the case here, my girlfriend Xion is on the team & our friend Olette, it’s based on your talent not gender.” Kairi does a double take, what!? Why didn’t you tell me!? Namine looks down shhh I’m not out to father yet. Kairi whispers I’m sorry but that’s great you know you have my support. Namine nodded ‘promise me you’ll think about it?’ Kairi “I will”

Later that night as she’s having her nightly cigarette on her windowsill she spots a blond boy across the street in a neighboring building out on the deck porch noticing her as he paused from playing his guitar she puts out the cigarette & says to herself “sorry blondie no distractions this time.”

In The next few days kairi heard voices outside her bedroom door then a knock & in walks a raven haired girl with a bob hair cut & Namine trailing behind her. So you’re Kairi. Yes & you must be Xion? Namine’s Girl who also doesnt wait for permission to enter rooms? What? I so knocked & im impatient. Xion winked Nami says you’re interested in joining motocross? I saw your bike on the way in. You any good? Kairi sighed the answer your first question yeah sure second question it’s my life why wouldn’t I be any good? Xion smirked yeah? But are you motocross good? Kairi returns xion’s wink from earlier we shall see won’t we? Xion sure meet me at the ‘pit’ tomorrow for tryouts & meeting the team”.

The next day kairi & her bike walks with Namine to meet Xion at the ‘’pit’’ in the twilight town forest. The sort of twilight town’s motor bikers hang out for the team to practice. Kairi was nervous to say the least. Firstly noticing Xion & another girl fitted up in gear she assumed was Olette. This was a good sign she thought “there’s other girls on the team, if I don’t make it it’s my own fault” soon Kairi was startled out of her thoughts when xion led them over closer to the rest of the team. Kairi noticed that a blond boy who everyone seemed to be talking with, couldn’t take his eyes off her as soon as she enter the “pit” it seemed. Oh god it’s the boy across the street that was staring at me from his deck porch. Soon Xion yelled at him “yo Rox come here” “Rox” walked over with a smirk hey Xi so who’s your friend? Xion rolled her eyes ; this is Kairi, Kairi this is Roxas team captain leader blah blah totally hammy thinks he’s all that with fancy bike & skateboard tricks & his damn hair, for the love of God let me trim it it’s in your eyes, Roxas sighs shakes his head hell no, give me a break “MOM” let me do my own damn introduction, Kairi laughed Roxas’s eyes brightened & smile widened. Hey Kairi. Girl across the street who lives with Namine it’s a pleasure meeting you even if you’re friends with this one before Xi went nuts I was gonna say the only thing true about that is that I’m an amazing team captain who happens to be a skilled rider that’s it. Kairi chuckled softly ok I believe you you don’t seem like a ham to me as she played rolled her eyes Roxas oh ho ho ho this one got jokes? Haha well miss Kairi I wanna wish you good luck out there tryouts here can be as brutal as motocross is. Kairi nodded she could do this. As she walked his bike over to the starting line. Roxas called for everyone’s attention “okay my dudes & dudettes tryouts are about to start roll on over to the starting line & please let’s try to keep it clean & not to have a smash up out there….

Kairi couldn’t believe the competition as she smoked them all as she turned corners & made all her jumps which the pit made much better jumps & more room to freestyle than Sora & Riku’s trails around the island. (It seemed like she’d would be at a disadvantage since she had snuck out to ride the trails every chance she got when Sora & Riku would take trips away from the island to stay in top shape since Sora or riku would try to police her from riding their trails.) as she finished her run with a long drift into the finish line & remove her helmet she noticed all the stunned faces of Namine & Xion but Roxas had a different expression, resembling resentment. Kairi walked her bike out of the way of the others.

Roxas couldn’t believe this girl & her princess style bike not only beat the competition but she had sick freestyle moves thrown in to the mix. He just couldn’t let her join his team, not while showing out like that using freestyle supercross wasn’t allowed & was separate from motocross itself. Roxas quickly got everyone’s attention “okay okay chill out guys listen up that’s a wrap better luck next time.” Kairi Xion & Namine gasped as kairi turned away mortified & angry. “What the fuck happened?’’ she wondered. She started to walk away when she heard Xion blasting at Roxas. Kairi decided to walk back she felt she needed an explanation. Roxas “Xion I don’t have to explain how I run this team.” Xion “what the hell is wrong with you?” Kairi interrupts “no I have the right to an explanation I fucking demand it” she yelled hoarsely Roxas rolled his eyes, ok red here’s the deal I have no room for big shots or princesses that demands shit handed to them. That rely on freestyle to win motocross not only that, this is a simple tryout for a local team all you had to do way beat those guys in the race”!!! kairi I DID THAT! Roxas yeah but you still relied on freestyle. I can’t have that. I’m sorry. Kairi gritted her teeth “ fine blondie you should’ve made that in the rules beforehand! Roxas folded his arms my team my tryouts my rules rookies who don’t understand that don’t get to be on my team. Kairi exploded EXCUSE YOU IM NOT A ROOKIE! Shoving Roxas to the ground as she stormed off. Roxas chuckled to himself as he got up. “Reds got fire” as he smirked.

The next day Xion shows up to tell Kairi with much team discussion Roxas has had a change of heart that he will in fact let her on his team on the grounds she trains under him for the coming weeks before the local motocross against several of the local towns Destiny Islands included. Kairi sighing as she’d been annoyed as hell the whole night. Ok but why cause all that shit with me yesterday? xion sucked in air wellll I think he’s just being a jealous little bitch but you didnt hear that from me. Kairi ‘’he’s a what now?!’’ Jealous of me? Why he’s captain leader guy he doesn’t have to constantly prove himself that’s he’s good you can tell he is without him jumping on a bike & he’s seemed laid back & chill & people give him respect so freely. Xion dumbfounded Namine who walked into the room giggled “Kairi if I didn’t know better I’d say you like Roxas!” Kairi & Xion ‘what?’ Kairi well I might of if he hadn’t treated me like shit for riding good??? Kairi questions Xion again whys is he jealous? xion “right well he’s not use to anyone besting him is all. Kairi gawks what!? You think I bested him? Xion “again you didn’t hear it from me I think he thinks that. But he doesn’t have the right to act that way. Kairi nodded Namine so what are you going to do? Still join the team anyways? Kairi rubbed her chin thoughtfully hmm I think I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine I’ll make it my life’s mission to test his skills to the point he’s made to feel as insecure about his as he’s made me feel about mine yesterday. Ending with Xion & Namine give each other a nervous look.. this could end badly.

Fast forward a few weeks, Kairi had been meeting Roxas several times a week & once on weekends to train which was more like Kairi & Roxas racing & betting each other would beat the other. Roxas had to teach this girl who was the best on this team if it kills him he thought miserably he’d win & she’d win back to back. Roxas “you’ve had enough,Red?” “Not on your life blondie” “fine, just don’t cry when you lose” Roxas snapped Kairi exhausted don’t you get it I don’t lose, hold on a minute I need a smoke as she lights up a cigarette. ‘’I don’t suppose you would like to join me?’’Roxas looks mildly disgusted & curious “maybe if you answer a question you smoke often?” Kairi hands Roxas a smoke & lights it, Roxas coughs a bit but overall he’s fine. Kairi giggles “about a few years now & only when I’m anxious & angry.” & more often since my father passed,Roxas bowed his head shit I’m sorry, Red hate to hear that. Kairi waved him off softly ‘’thanks but it happened a few years ago from a biking accident, everything I know about motor bikes I learned from him.” Roxas nodded solemnly “so who are you outside of riding & competitions with me?” Roxas & Kairi chuckled she sighed im not much really I use to be cheerleader & wrote poetry typically girly shit” Roxas howled with laughter you’re joshing me! I can’t see it! Kairi mmmhhhmm I really did I tried to please mom, sora & riku, to try to fit in with other girls. Roxas interrupts “wait one minute you don’t mean trying to please Destiny Island’s motocross team’s own Sora & Riku? I mean are you even sure they even pay attention to anything of than each other. They seem, I don’t know, self absorbed in each other at meets are they a couple?” kairi oh them? I wouldn’t know they wouldn’t let me join their dumb ol team to notice, I guess they had fun together policing me from riding their tracks on the play island. Making it their life’s mission to keep me from riding my own bike, a gift from my father by the way much less keep me off the team. Roxas ducked his head blushed, well I guess I fucked up as well, I’m sorry my ego gets the better of me sometimes. Kairi pats Roxas thigh, no problem Xion explained. Roxas ‘’what’d she… ‘’

Kairi kept talking so what’s your sad story who is Roxas Strife? Roxas sighed “motocross rider, motorcycle rider, when his older brother cloud allows him to ride his. Roxas frowns solemnly is raised by his big brother Cloud since his parents both died of overdoses. Kairi gasps reaches out to hug Roxas I’m so sorry. Roxas so stunned & surprised at the sudden need to touch her back. She smelled of coconut & some scent he couldn’t place. Kairi released him, he suddenly missed her warmth but continued no problem red its been years my brother is keeping out of a home upstate so I could grow up here. I had a twin brother Ventus who didn’t make it to be a teenager. He died when he was ten hit by a car case of negligence of parents who couldn’t careless.” Kairi holds his hand & doesn’t let go. “Sorry death seems to be my life story.” Kairi “hey it’s ok if anything my father’s death taught me not to let anyone tell you no, chase all your dream or in our case riding on a dream.” Kairi laughed Roxas smirked “what’s else do you wanna know Red?” Kairi blows smoke “ oh your hobbies, ambitions likes dislikes Roxas well you’re looking at my hobby when I’m not playing struggle in the sandlot as a plan b to my ambitions to go pro at both likes sunsets sea salt ice cream hanging out on the clock tower dislikes drama authority figures big shots….Kairi interrupted “let me guess princesses” Roxas smiled shyly no princesses can stay he whispered. Kairi asked softly, still holding his hand from earlier ok blondie I noticed you playing guitar on your deck that night I first seen you, I like seeing that side of you, will you play for me sometime? Roxas blushed fiercely chuckled as he noticed she was at his lips, as he bend over to her sitting on her bike, he whispered back sure red whatever you’re into. Their lips met as they kept their footing on each side of their bikes tongues collided competing over dominance. Kairi fell powerless over this kiss letting Roxas take control as she hopes she’ll win if they do this again. Roxas feels his legs shake & letting his bike roll closer to hers. They lifted their lips apart slowly with Roxas smirking as he whispers “looks like I finally win”

In coming days, Kairi & Roxas were still just as competitive & bantering with each other as ever but with more kissy faces, which bewildered Namine & disgusted Xion as Roxas was her brother figure & wasn’t sure what to make of Roxas & Kairi’s new found relationship? Or if it was the best thing for the team? What if they break up? She worried. She decided to must confront kairi first she knew Roxas was vulnerable after the life he had she had to protect him.

Kairi meets up with Roxas on twilight town’s clock tower which seems to be another hangout for wayward teens on the edge. She met Roxas holding two blue ice creams which must of been the sea salt ice cream he mentioned. She sat next to him on the edge she also noticed his guitar, she heart warmed he’d remembered. He handed her an ice cream, ‘’I thought we’d have some ice cream then Ill play for you?” Kairi smiled “is this a date blondie?’’ She teased. Roxas blushed “it’s whatever you want it to be Red.” Kairi giggled “im teasing you of course it’s a date a first date in fact. I think it’s sweet like this ice cream oh boy it’s salty.” Roxas ‘’but you like it though right?’’ Kairi “it’s delicious thank you!’’ It’s beautiful up here you come up here often don’t you?” Roxas “yup since I was eight years old thanks to deadbeat parents I & Ven both came up here sometimes & I met some of guys from the team up here Hayner pence olette & Xion, an older cool guy Axel he use to be on the team when Cloud was captain, who decided to move away,” Kairi listened with great interest what a history of people she wondered a lot about his brother where was everyone at when he died? Roxas place his hand on her thigh what is it you’re a million miles away what’s up? Kairi looked uneasy “about ventus? Where were you when it happened?’’ Roxas balled up his fist on kairi’s thigh she quickly covered his hand with hers. Roxas continued not around I was here laughing in up with the guys & Xion. He was on his way here to tell me mom was “sick” again. What else was new? I guess she was worst than usual because she died a few days after him, double funeral. I found him you know? The car musta been flying he was unrecognizable for years I kept thinking how it could’ve been me we played out in traffic all the time…” Kairi said nothing just squeezed his hand. Roxas looked curious ‘’this must be a bad 1st date so far I’ll start playing if you want?’’ Kairi laughed out some tears sure Roxas smiled oh look you got a winner stick red kairi oh! What does it mean? Roxas smirked “it means you’re the winner of my affections haha” Kairi rolled her eyes “seriously that’s it” she winked . Roxas chuckled “I should’ve gotten the winner stick. I feel like a winner every day with you Red.” Kairi pulled him in for a side kiss. “ shut up Just play for me, beautiful” Roxas starts playing as Kairi starts humming with the tune before she starts singing surprising Roxas

🎶The dawn is breaking a light shining through you barely wake

and tangled up in you yeah.

I’m open you’re close where I follow you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face light up again

Even the best fall sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme

and out of the doubt that fills your mind

I somehow find that you and I collide

I quite you know you make a first impression

I found Im scared to know I’m always on your mind.

Even the stars refuse to shine & out of the doubt that fills your mind

you finally find you & I collide🎶

-collide by Howie Day

“Woah” Roxas exclaimed ‘’where did that come from?” You didn’t say you could sing! Kairi blushed tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh I did short stint in the school choir but it boring & tedious so I quit I prefer being active.” Roxas laughs “maybe we should do a duet next year in the talent show or something? Kairi giggles ‘’now you’re joshing me because you’re not serious?’’ Roxas kinda as I’m not into school functions but with you? Anything can happen.” Kairi playfully rolled her eyes “ok mister too cool for school functions” Ill hold you to that Blondie..

Kairi did well keeping Xion & Namine’s relationship a secret with their folks. when Xion came over to spend time with Namine, they’d just tell them Kairi wasn’t up for hanging out so Xion could hang out Namine in her room alone. Kairi spent the time to revive her poetry. She’d been inspired since meeting Roxas & everything Roxas is Roxas Roxas Roxas she thought dreamily as she overheard Namine & Xion’s giggling in the next room, it must have been nice to get to have your significant other in your room even in secret, Kayla toke one look at Roxas & decided they were never to be alone in the house even with Nathan swearing Roxas was a good kid known him for years he’s the boy next door hell if it wasn’t for Nathan & Namine she would’ve not be allowed to see him, Kayla was a social snob & thought Roxas was a hood & was surely doing drugs like his parents had after being raised by his wayward older brother. Kairi was so distant in her thoughts she didn’t hear a knock at her bedroom door & it opening revealing Xion, “oh I knocked I need to talk with you about something that been just on my mind” “please don’t take this the wrong way but what is your intentions with Roxas?” Kairi eyes widened & frowned “what do you mean?” Xion “I mean what’s the deal with you & my brother?” Do you love him, care him? Or are you just having fun what!?’’ Kairi was heated & confused “I don’t think that’s any of your business Xion!” Xion sighed “look, you don’t really know him Kai.” His past comes with a lot of baggage & needs better treatment around here than by your ice queen of a mom who barely lets him in the door… Kairi defensively “no you look, I don’t know what your problem with me is? He explained to me his past I know about Ven ok? Xion looked down whispering what he doesn’t talk about what happened to Ven why you why open up to you an outsider?” Kairi shrugged im pretty easy to talk to Id like to think. Xion huffed “ sure is having that nice figure & gorgeous red hair in his face now.” Kairi was just so confused with Xion. “Why are you complimenting me? You don’t think I’m good enough for Roxas?” Xion looked off out the window I don’t know maybe he’s actually not good enough for the princess & I don’t want him hurt? Xion’s eyes looked wet with tears Kairi sighed feeling her eyes with tears as well. “Look if things south with us I’ll let him break up with me, he has my heart anyways might as well break it if he wants to” Xion gasped Kai! I’m sure he’d never do that! Kairi smiled & walked towards to Xion “then do we have your blessing” hugging her from behind “do I have another sister like I have in Namine? Kairi winked as she saw Namine standing at her door which could’ve been a huge misunderstanding if she hadn’t listened to the whole conversation at the door & knew of the Roxas & Kairi drama with Kayla around the house. Xion laughed as tears were still flowing “oh my god Yessss as long as people don’t think Nami is also my sister blah!” Namine walked over to hug them as all three had a group hug until Kairi removed herself for Namine & xion to hug alone as so heard Namine whispering “im sorry Xi I didn’t realize it was so hard on you I’ll come out to father” Xion slowly slipped her lips over the other girl’s “im proud of you baby” as kairi closes her door leaving the girls in her room. As she ran out of the house to jump on her bike to meet Roxas.

Today was the day the final motocross meet up against Destiny island was finally upon them as the team sat up on Destiny Islands turf. It had been around six months since Kairi had lived here she hung close to Roxas Xion & Namine who’d come as a supportive girlfriend who had new found freedom with Xion after telling her father. Kairi was a proud sister for them both. As they readied their bikes, Kairi couldn’t help but feel nervous here the last time she was here she fumbled her chance with this same team that was now her competition. Since being back she had noticed a certain brunette & sliver head had become more touchy- feely than she remembered or maybe she spent so much time resenting them of her joining their team to notice. Sora kissed Riku on the cheek as it was Riku’s match against Xion who smirked knowingly at the fellow gays who seemed out & proud as ever as Namine come over to hug & kiss Xion’s forehead. Riku was like a speeding bullet thought Kairi as he beat Xion. Next kairi beat tidus. Now all the cards lay with Roxas & Sora’s match as the teams were tied. As they readied their bikes kairi walked up to Roxas with a hug from behind with a kiss to his neck Roxas smirked hello red what will you do when I beat him? “Congratulate you & kiss your beautiful face again?” She said nonchalantly “well that’ll work but maybe a tour of the whole island both of these islands?’’ He gave her a winning smile Kairi “you got it blondie” while the happy couple was canoodling they didn’t notice the happy curious look Sora was giving them as Kairi walked away when the race was ready to start. Roxas in all his glory made a spectacular show for a show off ham that he was & beating Sora leading the team to victory.

kairi had promised Roxas to show him the main & the play islands respectfully she was learning Roxas had such a fascination for the beach as did Namine & xion with shells as the two girls stayed on the beach looking at the shells they found. she & Roxas walked around the treehouse bridge around the paopu fruit tree. “What’s the deal with the star shaped fruit, red?” Roxas pointed out as Kairi started to explain the legend to Roxas. he became intrigued & exclaimed they must share one immediately. “How about we share one so that our destinies can be intertwined forever” kairi said softly “you already have my heart.” Roxas reached out to take her hand “you have mine too so we should partake in this famous island custom cement our love & devotion.” Kairi laughed “it’s just a legend relax blondie didn’t know you were superstitious?’’ as she reached up for one & handed it to him holding it to his lips, Roxas whispered “I just want you forever with me Red” “Ride or die” they counted one. two. three. & they bit down in in sync. They laughed as it squirted juice out both ends.

Kairi noticed spiked brunette & sliver headed boys approaching them she tensed the hand she was hold Roxas with. Sora was the first to speak, “heya! Nice match Roxas & they shook hands. I knew you were a good rider but wow you’re amazing.” Roxas hey Thanks dude it’s good someone takes the time to compliment me on my skills instead of calling me a show off ham. Kairi rolls her eyes “Xion started that remember.” Roxas laughed playfully im joshing you. They looked over at sora who just looked happy to be there in all they banter-y fun Riku who looked bored. Roxas to Riku ‘’hey you, you wanna show me this neat thing I seen way over there? Riku puzzled huh you mean the raft we built when we were 12? Sora suddenly caught on to Roxas ‘’yeah Riku walk over there with Roxas I need to talk with Kairi.” Riku “sure” as Roxas & him departs to the raft area. Sora looks puzzled over Kairi so how long have you & Riku been out? Sora blushed “not long & his parents were not happy but he lives with me & my family now. So how long have you been with twilight town’s own motocross team captain Roxas Strife.” Kairi’s turn to blush, “a few months I guess you have noticed him he was sure you & Riku never noticed anyone else at meets” kairi teased Sora frowned ‘’of course I noticed all that blonde hair & smirking. I just notice Riku more. You’ve got a great looking guy there Kairi. Sora winked Kairi giggled thank you Sora, anyways Sora continued im sorry if riku & I made your life miserable here after your dad’s passing we wanted to keep you off bikes. Kairi frowned looking down “you all had no right. My dad wanted me to bike” it’s in my blood despite everything I deserve it I might of been a shithead to you for demanding that I be on a team that doesn’t want me.” I’m sorry… Sora interrupted “no Kairi we’re still wrong for that we didn’t let you on the team because we didn’t want girls on the team…..”and his voice got quiet, “Riku thought it would be a good idea to push you away into doing something girly with your time instead.” ‘Wow you know how to pick boyfriends, Sora.’Kairi rolled her eyes annoyed sora “no kairi I agreed with him” kairi huffed and said ‘’you know what sora? you two deserve each other.’’ Sora “no please don’t go away angry” Kairi sighed “im not mad, sora I just don’t care I don’t live here anymore remember.” Sora pouted “you could still visit” Kairi ‘’of course & you & Riku can visit us in twilight town & triple date with Namine Xion Roxas & I. Sora smiled it’s a date.

Kairi walked with Sora to found Roxas & Riku hanging out around the raft. Laughing. Sora & Kairi gave each other a look. Roxas & Riku was in a good natured competitive talk about a match for them since they didn’t get to race. Kairi told them that Sora agreed to have a triple date with the girls in twilight town. And with that the couples departed Kairi grabbed Roxas’s hand, as they walked along the beach back to where Namine & Xion were last seen. Roxas questioned Kairi ‘’what’s up Red you’ve been quiet since talking to Sora anything wrong?’’ Kairi said softly “ I realized while talking to Sora that I don’t really care about this island anymore’’ when I was little I never wanted to leave Sora & Riku or this island it was home they were comfortable friends & I didn’t want to grow up but in a way they pushed me to grow up. We can’t stay the same & my mom as much as a ice queen she is she had a hand in getting me away from here.” Roxas said thoughtfully “ yeah I should thank her for bringing you to me” as he laughed kairi punched Roxas in the arm’’you do that she’ll make sure I’ll never see you again” Roxas “ouch Red geez” but I don’t think that’s true, that you don’t care, you wanted to make up & be friends again sometimes people just aren’t cool enough, but I think Sora & Riku have potential though.” Kairi ‘’ yeah I always thought so too, blondie.” “So what about us?” “Are we forever?’’ Roxas looked out into the ocean. “Until the end, Red” he looked over to Kairi with a quick kiss & a mischievous smirk & pick her up bridal style & carried her out to the ocean as she shrieked with laughter as dropped her in the water as she pulled him under with her for an underwater kiss.

fin~

[msnihilist]

you know about the fanfiction thing you said I remembered that I always wanted a long fic about ben which is about him disappearing and getting captured and and when while everyone think he's dead all the people who care about him come running to his rescue and kind of like help him to cure his mental or physical wounds but never really saw anyone writing it actually and I'm not that good to write something like this :( so I just wanted to know does anyone like something similar to this story lol

Well, anon, there are two sure-fire ways to get what you want: do it yourself, or pay someone else to do it. (I happen to take commissions, and I'm currently working on a Ben 10 one right now!)

I think you can do it yourself, though :) You already have an idea, and passion is the perfect starting point! Why not open a document and just write a scene that you think would be cool? You don't have to share it with anyone. Everyone starts somewhere.

I've actually got a WIP that's pretty similar to your idea that I'm about 8.5k words deep in. It's about Ben going missing and the lengths his friends go to in order to bring him home.

While I work on that, here's some already-posted Ben-whump fics to keep you busy, anon. And remember: leave comments if you want to foster a community. If you enjoy any of these fics, please let the author know!

These three are all oneshots.

Old Wounds, New Bruises by lenin_it_to_win_it

After seeing some of Ben's scars for the first time, Rook is determined to protect his partner from further injury. However, Ben's emotional wounds prove harder to manage.

Only Fools Would Love Me by Yalvaberry

"Ben, Ben, please, please, please no, I don't-" A sob.

Kevin looks back. His mind feels jumbled, split into two - Morgg is getting away! - but his feet don't want to cooperate, they seem to have a mind of their own as they carefully lead him back up the tunnel he came from.

"Ben, what do I-"

Kevin listens as he trudges back. The dirt crunches beneath his feet. Curiosity pulls at him, pushes him forward, morbid, because somehow, somewhere in his head, he thinks he already knows what he's going to see.

Set during the episode "...Nor Iron Bars a Cage" in Ultimate Alien. What if Kevin accidentally kills Ben inside the mines?

You Can Hold Him (Just Not Too Close) by MashpotatoeQueen

Ben puts the Omnitrix back on, and she stares at it in hatred- only for a moment though, just one moment- and wishes that her cousin had never found it. Because now Ben isn’t a fan of being held, not anymore, and the reason for it lies in that stupid watch.

(That stupid watch that saved the world, that makes Ben feel safe even as it puts him in danger.)

But she says nothing, nothing until late one night Ben calls her, and his voice is shaky and a little too high to be normal, breathing coming too fast and jokes falling a little flat, and she remembers the conversations at three AM in the old Rustbucket and this time she gets them for what they are.

She hums, says quietly, “Ben, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

And Ben laughs, except it sounds a bit like crying, and he’s murmuring about how sorry he is, about how he usually calls Grandpa Max, but that Grandpa Max is gone and he doesn’t know what to do-

“It’s fine.”

It’s not- her kid cousin being too terrified to be alone in the dark in his own room will never be okay- but she doesn’t say that. Just hums again, quietly, and says, “It’s fine, Ben,” and prays that it will be soon.

Here are some of my own fics that deal with Ben-centric hurt/comfort:

Nothing Left to Say

Gwendolyn makes the executive decision that Ben needs to be emotionally vulnerable for a day. The fastest and easiest way to achieve that is with a truth potion. It seems like a good idea on paper, but it soon becomes clear why the formula is a forbidden one.

Some things, it seems, are better left unsaid.

Meteor Shower

With the aftermath of Captian Nemesis’ escape from prison and Jennifer Nocturne’s alleged kidnapping, Kevin realized that he had some mending to do with his teammates. [Episode continuation of “Catch a Falling Star.”]

Put Your Strength Down

There's blood smeared on the doorknob when Sandra gets home. Her stomach clenches with worry, but it doesn't rattle her the way that it used to.

Every time she does this, Sandra reminds herself that it could always be worse.

Choose

The timer starts at fifty-nine, and it immediately begins counting down.

Kevin only has a minute to make a choice that he'll regret for the rest of his life.

Overload

Overloading the Omnitrix should be near-impossible, but as faulty as the Ultimatrix is, Ben really shouldn’t be surprised that it blows up in his face. Literally.

01001001

The Omnitrix had long-since been, well, attached to Ben’s wrist. Unfortunately, Ben didn’t anticipate just how far it would go to always be a part of him.

The World Grows Green Again

When Ben's life is saved by a masked stranger, it offers Ben and Rook a glimpse into a horrible future.

Diamonds Are Forever

A year after Petropia’s re-creation, Ben and Rook are assigned a deceivingly simple job on the planet — overseeing an "official yearly Plumber check" to ensure that societal development and reassimilation with the galaxy is going smoothly.

With Tetrax acting as their guide, it soon becomes clear that not all is as it seems. Digging through conspiracies and figuring out who can be trusted, they find that the glittering surface of the planet is covering a horrible plot against the Petrosapiens, which may hide roots closer to home than any of them realized.

NOTE: This is definitely the fic where I hurt Ben the most! Emotionally, psychologically, and especially physically. He leaves this fic permanently disfigured. Ben gets stabbed, passes out from blood loss, watches his allies get killed in front of him, is experimented on, fed through a tube, is betrayed again and again, and much, much more.

There's also a section of this fic where Ben is kidnapped and Rook, Gwen, and Kevin must work together to rescue him.

I tagged DAF with blood and gore, body horror, major injuries, and I'm not fucking joking!!

Anyway, anon, I hope that provides some reading material/writing inspiration :) Good luck! I believe in you!!!

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Danzo - 12, 23, 50 for the character ask? 😊

My beautiful doll ❤️

For favorite character asks

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

I wish I did have any practice with writing cause I’d want to write about her time in Shimousa directly after being repaired by Limbo, and explore her inner thoughts as he intentionally gives her orders intended to hurt her as much as he can, and messes around inside her head. Her telling herself she’s just a doll meant to be used by him but actually being bothered by his actions.

I’d also like to rewrite the middle/end of the Heian-kyo chapter to be focused on her like it should have been, and I’d definitely include a noncon scene with Limbo’s bugs cause I can’t believe they didn’t take advantage of those. It would be so easy to make it a proper conclusion to her arc and her breaking free of his control and fully coming to accept her humanity (cause she still tends to dismiss her own feelings as inconsequential cause she’s a puppet)

And the other I’ve discussed before is a scenario after she’s summoned to Chaldea where she breaks down and Limbo is the only one with the specialized knowledge required to repair her so she’s left with no choice but to let him mess with her body again

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I’ve known her less than a year and already I think the big impact she’s had on me is she got me to fully realize just how much I love dolls? Danzou was the final push I needed to get a bjd and I’m even having my first one look like her ❤️

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

For fics- rhysgore's "dutch wife" (its the sole english LimDan fic and REALLY GOOD, its Danzou pov and 2nd person which I don't see much, but i find it adds to the creepiness. I love their descriptions of how her doll body works as well as her thoughts)

綻ぶ蝕甚 by 遠野ラーテル I don't know who else can actually read this one, but i can't not list it cause I constantly think about it. Great Danzou character study focused on her relationship with Limbo, the first half being in Shimousa where she's obedient but finds herself dwelling on things like the girl he mutilated for parts to use in her. And the second half is her Servant self summoned to Chaldea being haunted in daydreams by him without fully being able to remember, in contrast to the first half she's much more openly distressed. Sfw but dripping in eroticism, and they capture this very distinct unsettling atmosphere between them, and don't hold back when it comes to his cruelty and Weirdness about her.

It has a lot of great imagery too, this is a piece i did of her based on it

Okay i gotta share other great art of her like THIS that i commissioned from a friend who draws excellent gore and I adore her expression so much ❤️❤️❤️

This comic on pixiv (summary cause its in JP- after being summoned to Chaldea, Douman confesses to having all his memories from before, and Danzou confronts him, demanding to know what he's plotting, saying she does not trust him. He claims he's not and mocks her for not warning her son (who he directly threatened in her interlude) and the master of chaldea if she believes he's such a threat.)

And this piece which i think is one of the first i saw of her and I think about it a lot.. Her and Limbo's relationship summed up in one image...

WAIT how could i forget, literally anything by the artist 花たれ

[alms4oblivion]

My Avatrice Fic Masterpost

Only happy endings here.

Multi-chapter

the bane of my existence (ongoing, 8/9) - Bridgerton season 2 AU, Avatrice as Kanthony mostly, Regency romance, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, eventual smut (E)

I'm Coming Out of My Cage and I've Been Doing Just Fine (ongoing, temporary hiatus, 8/?) - werewolf Bea modern AU, fast burn Avatrice, ambulatory wheelchair user Ava, horror, graphic descriptions of violence (M)

Mrs. & Mrs. Silva (complete, 5/5) - Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU for the 2023-2024 Avatrice Big Bang, Avatrice as wives who don't know they're each other's greatest rival assassin, action, comedy, angst, marital strife (M)

A Practical Guide to Getting Out of the Friend Zone, by Beatrice Adeline Silva (complete, 8/8) - college memoir AU, Beatrice writes the story of how they got together, Ava is her editor, pure comedy, no angst (M)

Friends with my Ex (complete, 12/12) - post-canon post-Holy War mature romance, Ava returns after Beatrice has fallen for someone else, Avatrice friendship to start, then Avatrice endgame, some angst, emotional hurt/comfort, SUPER happy ending (M)

One-shots

I mean it different than you do - Renee Rapp interview AU, singer!Bea gives an interview where she admits she wrong a love song about Ava, Ava confronts her, humor, fluff, description of past angst (M)

See You In Our Dreams - childhood friends AU, Avatrice meet in first grade and become best friends, nostalgia, fluff, and some angst (T)

Seven Minutes In Hell - Halloween special, childhood enemies to lovers, mostly humor, some fluff, very brief angst, the evil twin fic of See You In Our Dreams (T)

A Formal Invitation to Come Inside and Drink My Blood - vamp!Bea, Ava wants to seduce her hot vampire neighbor, humor, crack fic (M)

No Drinking Another Girl's Blood or I Shoot Her With My Crossbow - vamp!Bea Halloween special, Avatrice do Halloween and handle jealousy poorly, still pure humor, hornier than the first one (M)

Untitled Vampire Bea Holiday Special Extravaganza - vamp!Bea Christmas special, still mostly ridiculous humor, but some fluff in this one (M)

Art Others Have Done Of My Fics

The last two images are the wonderful @princington's drawings of scenes from A Practical Guide to Getting Out of the Friend Zone and See You In Our Dreams, respectively (posted with permission).

[stormgardenscurse]

So I'm in the mood for some hurt/comfort 🥺 I want to request a scene where the Dorm Heads hear that Reader is going back to their world, and they nearly break down crying in front of the one who tells them that. The Dorm Head then return to their rooms, only to find out that reader chooses to stay. Reader then hug and comfort them sweetly that their heart is their home 🥺🥺🥺 Lots of tears pleaseeee

Accompanying post with similar theme, but more comfort: “How would each of the dorm heads react to the reader telling them that she's from a different world and found a way home, but confesses her love and says she'll stay if they feel the same?”

This post: The dorm leaders’ reactions to you leaving. Some of these will have post-situation bits which aren’t as angsty!

CW: The majority of this is angst and hurt, please proceed at your own risk.

Commissions are Open!

Riddle

The instant he hears about it from Trey, the hurt is evident in his eyes. It flashes by for a moment before Riddle promptly turns away from his friend (whom he knows caught his expression).

He immediately tries to distract himself with something else by mentioning a tea party to be held at the dorm, but his thoughts are way too chaotic at the moment for those words to really mean anything.

He knew that this would be happen, but Riddle can’t help the feeling of betrayal clawing at his heart: once you step through that mirror, he’d likely never see you again. It went against logic to think so, but he wished that you could stay even if this wasn’t your homeland.

Even if he were to break rules for you now, Riddle is lost: things are so much more complicated when you don’t even know whose rules these are, let alone what the consequences might be.

But… Will he allow himself to be compliant this time around?

Leona

Ruggie kind of regrets telling Leona at all now, if only because the lion has been in a foul mood for the past few days because of it. Leona seems normal at a glance, but it doesn’t take much for you to realize that he’s been subtly avoiding you and behaving distantly.

He’s being cold, sure, but can you blame him for not wanting to get hurt again? These are just precautions more than anything else, to make sure that once you were gone, he’d be able to transition better. 

Though even if that’s what he might say, it’s really just to soften the ache he’s feeling: Leona knows that if he interacted with you properly, the feeling of loss would just hit ten times as hard, like dangling something in front of him just to pull it out of his reach.

The world did like to taunt him, sometimes. Leona just didn’t expect he’d have the energy to feel wronged by it again.

Azul

The twins tried not to mention it to him at first, but Azul’s not one to be kept in the dark for too long. Eventually he gets the news, and when he does, well…

They say he’s not seeing anyone because he’s not feeling well, but anyone close enough to him would know it’s not an illness – even if the feeling in his chest might as well be caused by one, from how terrible it feels.

This was the most powerless he felt in a long, long time, and he hates it.

Post-situation:

Azul pretends afterwards that he wasn’t affected by the event at all, just pleasantly surprised that you chose to stay (biggest lie of the century). 

You’ve been doting on him as a form of apology, and while his pride won’t let him admit that he likes it, he doesn’t draw away either. It’s a form of reassurance that Azul appreciates a lot, and he’s grown to enjoy subtly intertwining your fingers to anchor his thoughts.

Kalim

“That’s great! Wow, I didn’t think it would happen so soon…” Kalim keeps up an air of positivity – he was happy for you, truly! It’s just that… He knows people tend to come and go, and that he’s still young, but the idea of not seeing you again made him feel so, so empty.

Even then, he can’t rain on your parade. “Jamil, we should throw a party to celebrate! It’ll be a nice memory before Y/N leaves, right?”

Jamil studies Kalims expression for a moment, then two. “...If that’s what you want, we could probably get it done before Crowley sends the prefect off.”

Though even if Kalim faces this with a smile, it’s clear that he’s less energetic than usual, always looking around as if waiting for chances to talk to you.

Chances that he’ll soon not have anymore. It’s funny how people say that the world was served to him at birth, but the one thing he wants the most right now was way out of his reach, huh?

Vil

He feels empty upon hearing the news. Vil knows he should be mature about this; you worked hard towards your end-goal of returning home, like it’s always been from day one.

So why was the success of someone he loves bringing him so much pain? Maybe because there was just as much effort in your relationship with him, in the months of gaining an understanding of one-another, in the gradual developments that both of you have come to fondly look back on.

Would Vil give up on that now? Does he even have the right to have an input in a decision that at the end of the day would be yours and yours only?

Sure, he wasn’t conceited enough to think himself the center of your world, but thinking that he might not be in the picture at all after this left an empty pit in his stomach.

Bonus post-situation:

He doesn’t know if he wants to hug, kiss or slap you for what happened. Maybe all three? Great Seven, you really were a lot of trouble. (/affectionate)

Idia

Uncharacteristically quiet when he finds out, even after Ortho checks up on him to ask if he’s okay.

He just feels defeated by this; you returning to your homeland is what should happen anyways, and there's a clear line he shouldn’t step over.

Fine, Idia was afraid, alright? He was afraid of losing you, of what may happen if he tried to be a hero and just messed things up further. He hates the train of thought he’s fallen into as he shuts himself in his room, working at his computer as if that’d clear his head.

He’s just a dumb, shut-in otaku. An idiot who let himself believe in the idea that he could have something that lights up his days, that lifts off some of the weight on his shoulders.

What should he have expected? Lights will flicker out eventually, no matter how bright.

Post-situation:

Idia’s feelings melt into tired relief. Some days he lingers closer to your side, as if afraid you staying was only a dream...

Malleus

The weather isn’t all that great these days, and neither is Malleus’ mood.

He trusts you to make the decisions you deem best for yourself, so the fae tries not to meddle. It’s bitter to think of things this way, but at the end of the day he knows he’d have to say goodbye to you eventually. If not from this, then the effects of time on a mortal soul.

His grandmother’s lived for a long time – part of Malleus is more afraid of how he might forget you after the centuries pass. As vivid memories are, their colors fades just as easily. The idea of losing one of his first genuine friends undoubtedly puts Malleus at odds with his emotions.

With all that said, it’s the first time in a while where Malleus wishes he wasn’t invited to something. How cruel would it be for his last memory of you to be walking through that mirror? To a world that he couldn’t cross into himself, even if he may reach his hand through the portal.

[spiriteddreams]

first loves

Pairing: Kamisato Ayato x fReader Warnings: angst, (slight) hurt/no comfort Word Count: ~2k A/N: apparently tumblr had issues so i'm reposting this!

They say that first loves are the hardest to forget. A face, forever imprinted in your memory with a series of "firsts" forever in the back of your mind. It's a cruel phrase, toxic even, one that snickers in the back of your mind when you see Kamisato Ayato for the first time in years. He looks the same, a knowing smile on his lips, eyes bright with amusement but dancing with secrets, but he's different. He's taller now, with a broader frame, hand moving through the air gracefully as he speaks to Madame Kujou Sara with nothing but elegance dripping from his tone. Everyone around looks at him as if he was a king, a shining star standing before a throne he had just sat at. 

And yet, you still see the boy that used to be one of your closest friends as a child. You still see lilac eyes gazing at you with delight as he drags you down the streets of Inazuma City, a bag of Mora bouncing in his hands as he declares that you have to share this next dessert with him. Ayaka pouts from behind you, hands on her hips as she demands that her brother also get her one as well. It’s only a couple seconds of arguing before the eldest gives in, buying two desserts. One for Ayaka, and one for the two of you to share. You’re not quite sure why he doesn’t want one for himself, but Ayato claims that it’s too sweet for him to finish on his own. You don’t question it. After all, you’re just children.

You still see the boy who proudly proclaimed that he was in love with you, offering you a poorly put together bundle of flowers that he declares he made himself. You’re not children at the time, barely adults but still so new to the harsh reality of the political world.

But now, years later, childhood innocence is only a fantasy that you can indulge in when you have time alone, left in your room with nothing but pictures and old trinkets that commemorate a friendship that consumed your youth. You’ve watched as Kamisato Ayato has grown from a boy to a man in just a short number of years, the misfortunes that befell upon his family still lingering in the shadows. You see it in the way he carries himself, head raised and shoulders pulled back, not a single misstep as he strides down the road. Years upon years of reminders and lessons are forever ingrained in his mind but you still notice the small habits he’s kept from childhood, from his anxious fiddling with the collar of his kimono, to the way his eyes brighten when he comes across something as simple as milk tea.

And tonight, the Yashiro Commission hosts a party in honour of the wedding between Hiiragi Chisato and Kujou Kamaji, the couple basking in smiles and congratulations, entertaining an eager crowd as you watch from a little ways away. The spotlight was meant for them, for the people of the high ruling families, where politics were like a game of chess and every little move was based on calculations. With the marriage of two people from the Hiiragi and Kujou clans, people have begun to turn their heads towards the Kamisato clan, eager whispers about the commissioner simmering in the background as offers are made and declined. Said man handles each approach with grace, bowing his head with respect as he forces a chuckle to be heard before sending away another invitation to marriage. He can feel your stare on him, and has caught the way your eyes seem to catch on his figure as you scan the room. Ayato watches the way you make small talk with Thoma and Ayaka, covering your mouth with your fan when his retainer apparently says something outrageously funny that it has you turning away so as to not make a scene. When was the last time you smiled at him like that?

“I apologize, but there’s something I need to take care of.” He offers the man in front of him a quick smile before slipping away, eyes trained on you as he leaves behind his umpteenth marriage offer of the night. Thoma and Ayaka notice him first, the latter darting her eyes between you and her brother before she leans in, her own mouth covered by her fan as she whispers something to you. He watches, almost painfully, when he notices the way you stiffen up and turn towards him. Your smile isn’t as wide, isn’t as bright, isn’t as genuine as he remembers.

“You came.” His words are gentle but the weight of them is made known to you as your eyes trace over his raised brows and parted mouth that begins to curl into a smile. Thoma mumbles something about checking the food, offering his arm to Ayaka who takes it quickly, patting you on the forearm gently before being whisked away to leave you and Ayato to some privacy.

“It would be rude of me to decline an invitation from the Yashiro Commissioner.” You can only watch as his smile wavers at your words, a reminder of the past that begins to claw at your chest now that you’re face to face with him for the first time in years.

He clears his throat and his hand reaches up to fix the collar of his kimono. “Of course, but I hadn’t heard you were back from Liyue, last I heard you were working abroad with the Feiyun Commerce Guild.” He’s lying, not that he’d tell you, that he’d known the moment you arrived back in Inazuma after being away for almost two years. Ayato wants to pinch himself, has it already been two years?

Two years ago you watched as storm clouds began to haze over his vision, Inazuma beginning to be thrown into a political turmoil as rumours of a decree being enacted in disfavour of vision holders began to run through the streets. You had voiced your concerns, not only for the political state of Inazuma and the growing tensions within the Tri-Commissions, but also for Ayato’s wellbeing. It was nothing new to see him engrossed in work, handling multiple tasks at once and slowly but surely, pushing people away under the excuse that he was too busy. The bags under his eyes seemed to pull him down day by day, and when the breaking point finally came, it was poison that spilled from his lips, his words so casually cruel as if he were being honest about your relationship.

---

“You don’t get it, do you?” You swallowed thickly at his words, taken aback by the sharp rise in volume. Ayato’s hands lay flat on the table, holding up his upper body as he leaned forward over his desk, eyes cold and uncaring as he stared back at you. The gift behind your back felt heavy as you sucked in a breath and waited for him to continue.

“I don’t need your help, and I haven’t for awhile now.” He sneered, “Archons, I swear the past few months you haven’t done anything to help. You’re in the way.”

“You don’t mean that.” Despite the hurt that sunk into your chest at his words, you tone was unwavering, pushing back against the stress that was far too evident upon his shoulders. “You’re overworking yourself and taking it out on me, so don’t give me that. You need to take a break, you can’t continue to work yourself to the bone.”

Ayato scoffed, “You’re not the Commissioner, are you? You don’t belong to any of the big three families, so tell me, what do you know about any of this?” His hand swept over the papers in front of him, sheets rustling in protest before settling down in their place.

“If you have nothing better to do than bother me, then leave. I don’t need you here.”

---

Now air feels thickened, clouded with unsaid words and broken promises, a first love washed away through the seasons. He’s older, more mature and understanding, with experiences, good and bad, tucked within his mind. And as he takes in your appearance, the way you hold yourself and stare back at him unflinchingly, he can only wonder what you’ve been up to in Liyue. He can only hear so much from his informants and diplomats that have been stationed in the land of the Geo Archon. The you who entertains friendly conversation during the day is still the same, with a warm smile and open hand ready to help. But behind closed doors will remain unknown to him. But now, away from the crowd of people and the secrets whispered behind decorated fans, it’s just you and Ayato and the bridge of memories that desperately holds you two together.

“You look good.” He allows his eyes to trace down the design of your kimono, a hint of pride shooting through him as he notices that it’s of the same silk he’d given to you on your eighteenth birthday.

“How eloquent of you.” Your tone is dry but he can hear the hidden teasing. It makes his smile grow wider, a little flame of hope sparking in his chest. “I had it made when I returned. After all, I haven’t had the chance to attend a party hosted by the Yashiro Commission since I left.” Your hands smooth down the fine silk, calloused fingers from years of training brushing against the embroidered designs. He looks down at the floor for a moment before smiling bitterly, the memories dancing in his head. His breaking point marked the downfall of it all. Words of affection became whispers in the dark before you had been the one to call things off, wishing him the best through tear clouded eyes and trembling hands. You left on the last day of Spring.

And how ironic it is, that today marks the first day of Spring, with the Sakura blossoms in full bloom and the hint of festivities just around the corner. He takes a breath, gathering whatever’s left of his slipping courage and offers a hand to you. “How about dinner sometime soon? Allow me to properly welcome you back to Inazuma.” He’s a bit late to that welcome, after all, you’d already been in Inazuma for a month, but if this is his chance to mend things, he’d take it in an instant. 

“I’m sorry.” His chest squeezes painfully at the words, “But I’m leaving back to Liyue in a matter of days. I still have business with the Feiyun Commerce Guild.”

“Is it someone else?” The words fall out before he can stop himself and he wants to kick himself when you lean away from him, eyes narrowed and mouth downturned. 

You scowl and resist the urge to cross your arms over your chest. “So what if it is?” Ayato doesn’t know what to say to that, because what right does he have to barge his way back into your life, offer you dinner and a date as if you’d never left, as if you’d stayed friends over the last couple years.

“It simply piqued my curiosity.” He lies and takes a step back when he catches sight of the way you grip your fan nervously. He takes in the way your fingers pick at the smooth wood, a telltale sign of your anxiety. 

“Of course.” You shake your head and step back. Ayato inhales sharply but stops himself from speaking when your lips part. “I should go, there are some things I need to take care of at home, before the night ends. This was a mistake, no, well, I’ve overstayed my welcome. But thank you, Lord Kamisato, for your time. I’m sure we’ll see each other around sometime.” You can’t bring yourself to care about any formalities as you ramble on, offering him half-hearted apologies. And in the end, the Yashiro Commissioner stays silent, just like you were, when he pushed you out of his life.

They say first loves are hard to forget. And Archons above, never has that been more apparent as Kamisato Ayato can only watch as you slip through his fingers once more and blend into the shadows, the click of the door shutting echoing in his mind. He swallows thickly, hands clammy and chest stinging with hurt. Did you have to wear that to walk out of his life?

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

[pianocat939]

May I ask for a yandere snake fruit cookie x a dragon reader who is actually ashamed they are a dragon? Like maybe they once tried to be nice to the cookies as their real selves and the cookies called reader a monster (and was possibly attacked...maybe giving them a scar as a reminder of how the world views them?) and reader has been hiding away on their own ever since out of fear and shame...like when snake cookie finds them, reader is like "stay away! I'm a monster!" And/or "please don't hurt me! I know I'm a monster but I mean no harm, I swear!"

Hcs or a one shot is fine...whatever you wanna do...I'm just curious how snake fruit cookie would react to someone who views their dream as a nightmare...like snake fruit sees the bad side of their dream...

My fellow Snake Fruit simps I come with food. This is a really good idea! Taking the opposite view of being a dragon is perfect for Snake Fruit.

This turned out angsty and soft at the same time lmao. Two characters who want something they can’t have is just *heart explodes*.

Tw: ANGST, heart melting, mentions of torture, house being burned, harassed with violence, Sneky being slightly possessive. (I think that’s all)

Living a Dream

“Ah! It’s a dragon, someone help me!”

“You dragons are only vermins to this world…Nothing but destruction and suffering.”

“Fear not fellow cookies! I will defeat this dragon once and for all!”

——————————————————

Pain. That’s what you felt.

The scar on your tail still ached, reminiscing the hate cookies had for your kind.

You sat upon your bed, tail hidden under the covers. Seeing the former injury only brought bad memories. Seeing that it is finally the witching hour, you leave the comfortable haven of yours. Your hands traced the cave walls as you left to obtain food.

You didn’t live in a grand fortress, nor a majestic palace. Only a big cave that had modest furniture. It was what you could make do, since you didn’t have the access to such luxury. Not that you couldn’t afford it or build it; but rather you couldn’t let the cookies figure out where you reside.

In fear of your protection you would only leave at night. Gathering foods from the wilderness or grabbing items from shops. Of course, you didn’t steal. You still left a list of the things you’ve taken with the exact amount of money left behind. Humiliation and shame made you so terribly lonely and unsociable.

You didn’t live like this in your origin, only when you decided to live amongst the cookies.

When you stepped foot into their town, they threw everything they could get their hands on; plates, jellies, candy canes, and lollipops. The mansion you commissioned was destroyed and burnt down along with your former self.

All you wanted was to live in a peaceful place with friends at your door at any time. To be loved and to love others. It’s supposedly only a dream, not a reality.

——————————————————

Snake Fruit strolled through the streets of a small mountain village. The dead night keeping the bustling town square still. It was almost like a scene from a fairytale.

They were requested by their rival master—Longan Dragon, to observe the dragon that dwelled in the area. Snake Fruit was not joyful in the slightest. To them, it just meant another enemy to deal with. Another one that had been given the form they desperately wanted.

While heading towards their destination, they heard a few footsteps. They were light, quick, and too skilled to be a normal cookie. Snake Fruit changed their direction and chased after the sound.

The tapping started to get more frequent, signaling that they’re rushing. Snake Fruit responded by slithering faster, sharp eyes on the lookout for the dragon.

The snake-cookie hybrid noticed that the path was heading towards a cave. Assuming that their objective is there, Snake Fruit begins to slither slowly; alerting the enemy even more would only cause more trouble.

——————————————————

You panted as you finally arrived at your cave. The chaser was so swift that you barely got away without getting caught. Were cookies always this fast? Exhausted from the chase you immediately went back to bed, not wanting to bother your mind any further.

If only you heard the sound of scales running across the rock of the cave…

You awoke after a couple of hours. With a refreshed mind you went to your House Plant Area™. It wasn’t much, but enough to keep you satisfied with your given situations. The plants looked healthy, and seemed to have enough moisture: you didn’t water them that day.

“A dragon looking after little plantss? Why I’ve never heard of ssuch thingss.”

You jumped, startled by the voice behind you.

“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to cause any trouble to your village! Just let me live in peace!” You frightfully exclaim, backing into the farthest corner due to instincts.

Snake Fruit eyes widen in surprise. A dragon terrified because of a mere cookie? Surely something must’ve occurred here to cause such a reaction.

“I am not of thiss land. I am ssuppose to observe you for Longan Dragon. Do not be sstartled.”

You calm down after a few minutes, still wary of this unknown cookie who broke into your home.

“Um, what is your name? Since you’re here and all.”

Snake Fruit paused, speechless that this odd dragon asked them their name.

“Snake Fruit Cookie.”

“What a lovely name. So why are you serving Longan Dragon?”

Snake Fruit remembers all the nightmares they’ve gone through in that single moment.

“I wish to be a dragon. I’m tired of getting controlled, I want cookiess to honor my power.”

You frowned, feeling sympathy for this cookie.

“I see. I want the exact opposite. I want to be a cookie; so I can make friends and live a life of happiness. Cookies just seem to not like dragon that much.”

They noticed you tucked your tail under your clothing.

——————————————————

The next couple of weeks the cookie visited you everyday. Wanting to discuss about your lives and troubles. These days you’ve been more cheerful. Greeting your friend with a grin and hugging them occasionally.

“Snake Fruit! You wanna see my new house plant? I picked it up last night at a cliff.”

“Certainly, dearesst.”

They started to give you pet names, which you didn’t mind. You assumed it was a normal cookie-thing. Or how their tail just barely brushes against yours.

If only you knew their true intentions

One day, you were talking to them about the flowers you see during this time of the year. You didn’t notice that their tail was inching ever so closely to yours until it coiled around exactly where your scar is. You flinch and try to pull away, but their grip was too strong.

“Snake Fruit?! Can you let go I-”

“Sshhh. No need to be sscared, I’m here. I’ll protect you from those imbecilic cookiess who dared to hurt you.” They wrap their sleeves around you in a gentle but firm hug.

You almost wanted to cry. That damned scar of yours reminded you of how much they hate you. Despise you even. To be held in such a loving embrace made you relax, releasing the torture that your body kept inside for years. In a state of relief, a single tear comes out from your eye.

“You may be a dragon…A form that I want to take, but that doesn’t mean they can treat you like thiss. I know exactly how it feelss, and I dessire to protect you from all hate. So I proposse that you will become mine, and I will cherissh you and keep you ssafe until eternity passess.”

Snake Fruit understood what it’s like to feel unwanted. To know that the only purpose you have as you walk upon Earthbread is to bear pain. They don’t want that anymore. They want to have someone to wake up to everyday. To know that they’re appreciated and wanted.

“I know it’s only been a few weeks but pleasse, I don’t want you to be in anymore pain. Let me be yourss, so I can be your protector and lover. For our happinesss.”

“I…Accept. I hope that we can be together forever.”

Snake Fruit smiled, then pecked your forehead. If even possible, they stuck themselves even tighter against you.

“It’s late now my dragon. You should get ssome rest, we can sspend time tomorrow.”

You nodded, covered yourself in blankets, and quickly fell asleep. The snake joined you, draping themselves over your body while making a low purring sound.

Finally, you were all theirs. Theirs to love, theirs to protect, theirs to wake up to.

Maybe not all dragons are horrible monsters.

——————————————————

Surprisingly proud of this one. It doesn’t feel rushed, nor is it organized in such a horrible way. And like the emotions you feel from reading/writing it just full on impact.

I had a lot of fun writing this!

- Celina

[aimfor-theheart]

COIN TOSS– PART III

(18+ MINORS DNI)

PART I → PART II

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x Reader, a little Shouta Aizawa x Reader

SUMMARY: As you fall asleep, you wonder faintly, almost sadly, if you’re the first thing he’s fully touched without losing in a long time.

You are Eraserhead’s troubled protege with a Quirk that cancels out others the moment they touch you. Tomura Shigaraki takes great interest in you.

(Enemies to lovers, a lot of angst, some hurt/comfort)

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, age gap/power struggle, violence, gore, Tomura’s trauma specifically, (in later chapters) murder, smut, some blurred lines, rough sex, a smidge of a spit kink, a smidge of somnophilia (let me know if I’ve missed anything!)

If you are under the age of 18, you should not be reading or interacting with this!

↳ A playlist I made for this fic, if you're interested!

A/N: here is your final part to this series! again, thank you @randomrosewrites for beta-ing this!! and thank you guys so so much for your support and comments, they mean so so much to me!! i had a lot of trouble with this last part, there was a lot of scenes i cut out and alternative endings before i settled on what is there now and i'm not even fully happy with it still lol. i have a lot of Thoughts about this, so feel free to reach out if you want to know more or just chat!! i hope you guys enjoy this!!

Read on Ao3

***

Shouta apologizes to you soon after. You sheepishly get out your own apology, even though you’d planned on holding a grudge a little while longer.

Still, Shouta confides that he also had his doubts and worries as a young hero and that he shouldn’t have dismissed yours. He talks in a soft, low voice for you, sits beside you on the edge of the couch.

You hate it because it’s easier to be at odds with Shouta lately, easier for your conscience. He put distance between the two of you, but you forced it apart further– if only to keep him in the dark. Maybe if only to spare yourself all the lying, all the pretending you’d have to do.

He says, “You know, you can always come to me. Whenever you need me.”

You have to swallow hard around the lump in your throat.

“I’ll always be here for you, despite everything.” he promises gently, trying to catch your eyes. Your gaze ducks away, out of his line of site.

Still, you hug him, tuck your face into his shoulder so he can’t see the guilt written across your face. Your secrets will constrict around you if you’re not careful. You know Truth is tricky and likes to reveal itself with Time’s help.

Once more, you become acutely aware of the clock ticking away on your relationship with Tomura.

But this time, you also realize how much trouble you could get in. You realize that you’re endangering Shouta now, too. You swallow hard, try to keep all of that down inside of you, but you feel nauseous suddenly. Bloated with guilt.

You wonder if you would’ve confessed to him then, if you would’ve spilled your guts the way you’d wanted to, if it would’ve saved you the heartache of it all.

Instead, you’d just clung to him, little fingers twisting in the back of his shirt, praying that you’d never need to make good on his promise. Praying you’d never need to test how far he’d go for you.

(It’s far– you’ll realize, further than it ever should’ve been. And you’re all the worse for it.)

***

Tomura thinks one of the troubles with heroes is their willingness to sacrifice anything for their greater good. He doesn’t think there’s anything noble in it, there’s nothing glorious or good in leaving their friend behind because they think it will save more. Nothing honorable in facing down a threat you know you can’t win against alone. What good is their world if they’re willing to sacrifice all that’s good to them in the process?

Everytime he watches you patrol, go up against other villains, maybe yakuza members, throw yourself in harm’s way needlessly, he realizes the Hero Commission uses heroes’ bodies as collateral damage. You are nothing to them. Even to other heroes; your sacrifice is expected. He knows it isn’t wanted, per se, but it isn’t surprising.

It doesn’t help that you have a streak of recklessness in you. You are quick to danger, just as quick to flash teeth and stand your ground, to fight mercilessly.

You struggle against large, powerhouse types. He watches you nearly get crushed or strangled some nights. Your Quirk doesn’t do much for you when your opponent has strength and weight to defeat you with a singular blow.

Your mentor is often pulling you out of danger with his capture weapon, yanking you away from a massive swinging arm or a curled fist about to smash you into the ground. But if it came down to you or the greater good, he knows what your mentor and your heroes would pick.

He thinks it’s strangely unfair, for you to give them your loyalty over him. He’s more loyal to you, isn’t he? There is very, very little he wouldn’t destroy for you. They would sooner let you be destroyed for the sake of their world.

Destroying the hero society that is so careless with you now feels, in part, like his gift to you. Freedom from the world that only cared about you when they realized you could be useful–

There is a night you become not just useful to your heroes but imperative.

It starts with your sacrifice, just as you were trained to do. You shove a civilian out of the way of a villain’s Quirk– it’s something with tusks and teeth that jut out from his body, sharp and ready to gut you.

Your mentor is busy with this villain’s accomplice.

Tomura watches when he shouldn’t. He was supposed to meet with Kurogiri, but he knows you patrol in this area and when there’d been commotion, he couldn’t help but watch from the shadows.

He watches one of those tusks jut towards you, your hand reaching out in hopes of disengaging the Quirk. But it’s a physical Quirk, not something like Dabi’s fire or his disintegration. And he doesn’t know if this Quirk disengages with it’s user or if it’s just his body.

Tomura feels his heart drop, the trapdoor given way to all icy fear as he watches one of those tusks pierce into your stomach.

Tomura stops breathing.

You grab hold of it, a scream getting caught behind your clenched teeth. Your fingers are tight, near frantic as you press into them– hope with everything in you, in him, that his Quirk disengages with yours.

Your broken off scream is wretched from your struggling body when another tusk rushes to crash into your shoulder.

You’re the only thing between the civilians behind you and this villain.

Your other hand reaches for the tusk at your shoulder, digging fingers and nails into it desperately.

Your eyes are bright and feverish with the hot pink of your Quirk.

Tomura stutters towards you, before the villain let’s out a pained groan. Your teeth are bared, blood bubbling up in your mouth, but you’re still standing, vicious and undeterred.

The tusks begin to crack where you grip them, splintering apart–

A sudden fission of light through those crevices, same fire pink as your eyes, arcs throughout the villain. A flare of it that makes the villain almost see-through, the lines of his bones burned by light, an x-ray flash, as if you’d struck him with lightning for a moment.

Eraserhead shouts for you.

When the flare dies, there is a scream of pain and it’s not yours.

The tusks shatter, splinter apart into gleaming bone that flies through the air.

You’re left standing, blood oozing from your stomach, your shoulder, but still standing, your eyes crackling and too bright.

The villain, tuskless, crumples at your feet, smoking. A normal, Quirkless looking man.

Did you–?

“What happened?” he hears the distant voice of your mentor, laced with worry, whose already reaching to staunch blood, blood that seeps so dark out of you. Tomura’s stomach rolls, twists suddenly, but you’re still standing. You’re okay– you’re okay–

“I-I don’t know.” you manage, but you sway into your mentor’s arms and Tomura has to look away, jaw clenched tight, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat.

He hears, “I need an ambulance– there’s a hero and villain down–”

But he’s already turning away, his mind churning, trying to keep the nauseousness from overcoming him. He feels suddenly furious, that it can’t be him at your side, that he has to watch, pushed to the outskirts. His fingers rush to scratch at his neck, his throat, desperate for relief from the pressure that has built in his chest.

He will try to call you– later, much later– the only time you’ll answer him. He is certain you will be okay with your healers and–

He thinks of the flare of light, the breaking of those tusks, the sudden heap of that man on the ground. If Tomura is correct about what you’d done, about what your Quirk actually is, the heroes won’t let you die now.

No, now you’re imperative. Now you’re trapped.

And the destruction of hero society will be his gift to you, an end to all the strings in place, the hands holding you both back.

***

“You destroyed his Quirk.”

“W-what?” you manage to get out, wobbly. You’re bandaged up, your torso and shoulder wrapped in fresh gauze after Recovery Girl healed the worst of your wounds. You’d been sleeping, hooked up to an IV to aid you in recovering. “That’s not possible, my Quirk only cancels–”

The doctor that has entered to give you this news shakes his head, “No, we’ve done scans, tests, the works on this guy. His Quirk is gone from his DNA. No trace of it.”

Shouta, who's sitting beside your hospital bed, speaks up, “Is it possible that it will eventually return?”

“I suppose, but we think it’s unlikely. It’s gone from him. There’s nothing left. She destroyed it cleanly. It’s like it was never there at all.” The doctor answers.

“I don’t understand–” you manage to get out, your head beginning to swim, giving a painful throb at your temples.

“It seems your Quirk isn’t so simple as cancelling out another’s. It’s likely that subduing other’s Quirks was just the surface of yours.”

“Is the man okay otherwise?” Shouta asks now, fidgeting in his seat when he senses your sudden distress. He leans towards your bed more and you have the sudden urge to latch onto him and not let go.

“Physically, yes. He’s fine.” the doctor answers, “However, mentally...he’s inconsolable at the moment. As you know, Quirks are incredibly– well, they’re a part of who we are, aren’t they?”

You swallow hard around the lump in your throat.

You think Shouta says something else, finishes speaking to the doctor for you. The moment the door clicks shut, the tears that you stubbornly had been holding back rush forward.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you get out on just a hissed breath. “I-I didn’t know I could.”

Shouta shushes you gently, “It’s okay, this happens. Sometimes people don’t know the full extent of their Quirk.”

“I destroyed his Quirk, it’s not okay!” you respond, guilt thickening inside of you, dragging you down heavy, clogging your throat and chest. “I didn’t mean to do that– what if I do it again?”

“You were under distress,” he soothes, reaching out to brush a tear away from your cheek, “Really, you were fighting for your life.” And when he says it, something gets caught in his throat. Something hitches in yours, too.

His eyes rove over your face slowly, taking you in carefully, as if he hasn’t been by your side the entire time. As if it wasn’t him in the ambulance, or him kneeling beside your bed when Recovery Girl put you back together.

“I should’ve been there. It shouldn’t have happened.” Shouta admits, the confession filling the small space between you two.

You take him in now, too, tired and worried, his face finally displaying the fear and care he has for you. It softens out his features, turns his eyes gentle and dark.

You realize suddenly that you miss him. You miss quiet nights on his couch as he graded papers. You miss his clothes and his cats and the tenderness that blossomed in all your silent spaces to fill you both out.

You wonder if he misses you as bad as you’re realizing you miss him.

You think of him cooking for one again, eating alone, and it does something horrible to your heart– mangles it, twists it up horribly.

It’s made all the worse because you’re lying to him. And here he is, at your bedside.

“S’okay, Shouta,” you get out, reaching up to touch his cheek with a trembling hand. He leans into the touch, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He savors your touch in a way that he hasn’t ever allowed himself to before.

But after a moment, he shakes his head fractionally, and he murmurs “I’m supposed to protect you.”

You don’t know why, but your bottom lip wobbles. Big, fat tears well up in your eyes, burn hot and put pressure on your already foggy head. You feel like you’re unraveling, your chest all swollen and tender, too, aching horribly.

You can’t decide if it’s because you’re lying and disobeying him so badly or because no one has ever bothered to say something like that to you, let alone mean it.

And you’re betraying him, your mind hisses.

When he notices, his face falls, his thumb moving to try and brush away your tears. “Don’t cry,” he hushes, “I’m sorry, don’t cry.”

You lean into his large and warm palm at your cheek, let him cradle and coddle you.

“I-I’m sorry–” you barely manage to choke out, for reasons far beyond him.

“No,” he coos, “No, sweetheart, don’t apologize.”

You choke on a sob and he grows more worried, leans over you more, brings his other hand up to stroke at your hairline, too.

He says your name softly, trying to soothe you, “Why are you crying, huh? What are you apologizing for?”

You shake your head, more tears loosening, your small fingers twisting themselves in the shoulders of his shirt. You think you’ll drown in all this guilt, it’ll fill your lungs with pressure, choke you out slowly as you struggle and thrash.

But for now, all you get out is a warbled, slurred, “Please don’t hate me–”

Shouta moves then, shifts to sit beside you on the bed. He’s painfully careful with you as he slides strong and sturdy arms beneath you, lifts you slightly into his lap, mindful of your IV, and cradles you to him.

You bury your face into his chest and try to hold back another sob as he murmurs, “Why would I hate you? I could never hate you.”

He strokes your hair, he hushes your cries, rocking you gently. Rocking you until you can stop crying, until you’re exhausted and aching and tender.

“I’ll help you with your Quirk,” he promises gently, holding you tight to him, “We’ll be okay, huh?” he murmurs, and it just forces another cry out of you, swallowed up by his chest that he cradles you to, “We’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

It’s the we’ll in that sentence that makes you squeeze him tighter. You wonder how willing he’d be to use it if he knew where you were every other night, who you filled your time with.

If he knew who called you late that night, when you’re alone in your room, aching and sore and alone. If he knew who you answered to, your voice hushed in the inky darkness;

“Tomura,” you exhale his name through the receiver.

“I saw what happened,” he answers instead, “I saw what happened today.”

You can feel the sudden jump of your heart, your nerves wringing themselves tight. “Oh,” you respond lamely.

To your surprise, Tomura rasps, “Are you okay?”

You don’t know why, but you cradle the phone to your cheek tighter, your eyes slipping shut for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Sore and tired, but I’m okay.”

“Good,” he responds, his voice softer than it usually is, just a breath when he asks, “What happened? What’d you do to him?”

You’re silent for a long moment. You can’t decide if you should tell him or not. You think of Shouta earlier and his voice like a hearth and the tender way he holds you, you think of his we’ll be okay.

But you can hear Tomura’s soft breath on the other line. You can see Ryuji in the patch of sun that splays out against the corner of the couch in the evenings. You think of him curled tight around you, like you’re the last good thing left on earth.

“I destroyed his Quirk,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “With mine.”

“That’s new,” Tomura almost hums, but it nearly seems like he was expecting the answer.

“I didn’t mean to.”

A quiet snort from him, “What are you trying to prove to me?” he asks, “I’m not your heroes. I won’t look at you differently whether you intended to or not.”

The thought strikes like an arrow between the ribs, sharp, sudden. It stings, when you realize it’s truth. How hard have you tried to prove yourself to Shouta? How hard are you trying to prove your goodness to yourself?

“You could’ve killed him,” Tomura says, “And I wouldn’t think differently.”

You wince for some reason when he says that, “Don’t–”

“What would your heroes think then?”

“Tomura–” you snap, voice gaining some bite, a warning.

But for some reason he presses, “How badly does the Hero Commission want you now? With a Quirk like that?”

“What?” you ask, suddenly shocked.

“Don’t be naive,” Tomura says and there’s an edge to his voice. He sucks in a breath, “That’s a big Quirk. Destroying someone else’s? You don’t think they’ll be interested in that?”

You feel the pressure of tears work their way through your head, your throat. Your fingers clutch so hard at the phone that your knuckles are turning white and before you can think, you hiss out, “And how interested are you now?”

“As interested as I was before.” he returns, sharp and quick, and then with a vitriol he hasn’t directed at you in months, he says, “Don’t compare me to them.”

You bare your teeth, tears stinging sharp at your eyes, prepared to fight back when he hisses, “Mark my words, they won’t let you go now.”

“Stop it,” you spit, “You don’t know anything–”

And he laughs at that, caustic, harsh, a grating sound. Villainous. It slithers through the phone, down your spine. Your stomach twists. You hate this– your head is throbbing. You don’t want to fight. You want to stop crying, God, you wish you could just stop crying–

“I’ll be here when you realize it.” he says and there is too much heat behind his voice, simmering and venomous. You can feel the end of this conversation, the bitter goodbye in his words.

Your bottom lip trembles, and for some foolish, lovesick reason, you gasp, “Wait– don’t hang up–”

But you hear the click of the other line and he’s fallen away from you, leaving you with an empty, static silence that buzzes around in your head. In your heart.

You throw your phone across the room. You hear it clatter somewhere in the darkness. You turn to press your face into your pillow and let out a sudden, childish scream. It tears at your throat, before tapering off into this pathetic little sob.

It’s worse because he ends up being right.

And it’s ironic because it’s another string tethering you to him, the ability to destroy something with a touch.

It’s like some part of him knew all along, or maybe some part of you.

You scream into your pillow again, louder, kicking at your covers before it breaks off into a bitter cry.

***

The Hero Commission is very interested in the new discovery of your Quirk. They run tests and scans on you, over and over again, trying to find something interesting. They want you to practice with it, but there’s no way for you to practice without potentially destroying other people’s Quirks.

They offer up criminals to practice on.

It turns your stomach.

“I don’t want to do this,” you tell Shouta one night after another long series of poking and prodding at you by white coats from the Hero Commission.

Shouta is silent for a moment, “No one is making you.”

“But they want me to. It’s expected of me.” you tell him.

“They want to make sure you can control it,” Shouta answers, “And the only way to do that is practice, unfortunately.”

Or do they just want to be sure they can control me? The question bubbles up unbridled inside of you. It sounds suspiciously like Tomura’s voice.

You frown, “I can control it. I don’t go around destroying Quirks with every touch. I just mute Quirks still.”

“Under distress, too? Can you summon it completely calmly? Or stop it in an instant?” Shouta asks.

“I don’t know– no, I don’t think so.”

“Then you can’t fully control it.” he answers, which makes you ball your hands into fists.

“It doesn’t feel right taking people’s Quirks– practice or not. And it’s controlled enough.” you respond, gaining a sudden edge to your voice.

“Then don’t do it.” Shouta responds, almost impassively.

You try not to grow upset or so frustrated that you say something you might regret. You swallow tightly. “Will you be disappointed? If I don’t?”

Shouta tilts his head and in the quietness you fear he will be, but he eventually answers, “No. You’re right; you have it controlled enough that it doesn’t hinder your day-to-day life.”

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Besides, if you’re under that amount of distress again, it probably flares for a good reason. It’ll probably save you if you ever need it again.” Shouta then says, “And if what they want you to do doesn’t feel right to you, then you shouldn’t do it.”

You stare up at him, a little surprised but–

Relief sweeps through you, sweet and cool.

“I trust your instincts,” Shouta says, the curl of his lips small but promising, as he reaches out to nudge your chin with his knuckle.

The guilt blindsides you later, so hard that it makes you lock yourself in your bathroom and keep a sob trapped behind the palm of your hands.

But for now, you smile up at him, the curve of your smirk playful, something he hasn’t seen from you in what feels like forever that you give to him again freely.

“Can I get that one in writing?” you ask and his answering laugh strikes you so suddenly it almost makes you dizzy and it’s like hearing the notes to one of your favorite songs that you hadn’t heard in a long time.

Like you couldn’t ever imagine forgetting it, now that you’ve heard it again.

***

Tomura wonders what it will take to make you leave your heroes.

Specifically, your precious mentor.

When he sees you again, you look like you did before nearly bleeding out in front of him and destroying the Quirk of another. It’s almost as if it never happened at all, almost like your argument never happened at all, either. In this little apartment where the rest of the world doesn’t exist, just you and him and sometimes Ryuji.

Except when he lifts your shirt there is a twisted, ugly scar from where they patched you up. Another at your shoulder. He doesn’t kiss it or run his fingers over it gently, he doesn’t make any sort of comment. He just thumbs at your waist and glares at it, wishes he could make it disappear like the villain who gave it to you.

(Not because he finds it ugly or unacceptable, only that it is now a permanent reminder of what he’d seen. Only that it reminds him that you are not guaranteed to him, not in life nor in loyalty).

You’re a little hesitant with him now. You feel more fragile to him now, too, like you’re holding something back, waiting for everything to finally fall.

The inevitable crash and break.

Tomura is gentler with you– he knows he needs to play his cards right now. It’s crucial. Something is building, even for the League of Villains. There’s more on the horizons.

And despite everything, he wants you there, when the sun is bloody and falling on a dismembered, new world.

He thinks he shouldn’t have pushed you now, when you’re so delicate, barely stitched together. But he had– he’d started another argument. He’d tried to convince you of the heroes’ lack of care for you, their greediness upon discovering the depth of your Quirk.

You throw it back in his face; isn’t that what All For One does to him? Isn’t that what he does for the League of Villains? Aren’t they all just pawns for him? Is that what he wants of you?

He seethes, digging into the skin of his neck desperately. You don’t stop him. He can feel the facade of this little apartment beginning to crumble, fall away into dust and he–

He knows he destroys everything he touches.

But you were supposed to be different.

(You are, his mind hisses, you are, you are, and that’s the worst part of it all).

You storm out that night. You leave him, no doubt to return to your precious mentor.

He thinks about destroying the entire apartment complex. He could now– he knows what’s coming. He won’t be staying here any longer. He has plans, so many plans.

You come back to him a week later, though. You’re bound to him in some way, returning again and again when you know you shouldn’t.

The make-up part is nice, with him buried so deep inside you that he’s trying to turn your stomach. Make you sick with him, the way he is with you. Your gasping moans, with the arch of your body far too pretty for hands like his.

And still, you lay on his chest afterwards, you let him run his fingers over the planes of your shoulders, the line of your pretty neck. He drags his knuckles against your soft skin, enamored with the feeling, with the way you soothe the haunting, sunken part of him. His Quirk submits to yours easily, dimmed inside of him. Maybe he should be frightened of your new potential.

But you’ve never been frightened of him, so he’s not of you, either.

You’re very bold, though, he thinks, for you to say, “Your parents were cruel.” After the argument you both had last time.

He tenses beneath you, grits his teeth. He’d thought you’d both learned your lesson, getting too personal in a place as sacred as here.

“You don’t know anything,” he says and it’s just a breath. Surprisingly toothless. He’d said it to you last time, in your argument. You’d said it to him before that. It feels almost ironic now.

You shake your head against his chest, your nose nudging into him, lips soft against his skin. You remain calm. “I know your name is Tomura. They were very cruel to give you that name.”

You say this as if it’s a fact, something as simple as the sky being blue. But it’s dark out now and the stars are dull, the moon just a scythe in the sky, caught in the window’s glare.

“What?” he demands quietly.

At least you have the guts to tilt your head up to find his eyes now. You look up at him through dark lashes.

“Your name–” you say again, gentle, “It means ‘to mourn.’ I don’t know why anyone would give their child such a sad name.”

He knows what his name means.

But this takes him by surprise, for some reason. Only because it’s not the name his parents gave him. You don’t know that, though. You don’t know anything about him, technically. He has the urge to tell you suddenly, that’s not my name.

He doesn’t, though. He stays silent. It’s his name now. And he likes the way you say it, the syllabus softened by whatever it is you feel for him.

(He won’t give it a name, he’s realizing now that names can be very powerful.)

Your fingers are gentle on him, rubbing strange patterns against a scar near his collar bone.

You have rendered him silent.

And eventually, as you begin to drift off to sleep, you murmur, “You were just a kid, you know?”

He doesn’t really know what you’re getting at, only that it does something strange to the tempo of his heart. He swallows hard, tries to keep his fingers gentle on you. Your breathing has slowed, the rise and fall of your back measured and even, but his has gotten tight.

He squeezes you against him, glaring at nothing, at darkness.

You were just a kid, you know?

It’s this part of you, the one that sees the human in him, that makes him think maybe you will be at his side until the bitter end of it all. Your compassion, the sympathy you have for the child he was, for the person he somehow became. Your unending ability to understand the worst of people.

He doesn’t dwell on the child he was, just has buried it in the cemetery of his chest– a part of him that only you have been able to reach through Quirk, through something too massive to name. You’ve soothed it, put it to rest like the dead, lit your incense in the spaces of his heart. Said your prayers along the notches of his ribs. Tried to appease that restless spirit that possesses him.

He doesn’t know why, but he starts to shake. He can hardly breathe.

And in the dark, when he thinks you’re asleep, and his secrets will be lost to your dreams, he admits for the first time in years what has always trembled inside him. He speaks the tragedy that has made a home of his body, the mourning that he was given name to;

“I wanted to be a hero– when I was a kid.”

***

Tomura thinks, for a moment, when you’re splattered in blood, that this will be your great turning point.

Your fall, the tearing and burning of your wings from your holy back. It will hurt, but he will be there on the ground with you, a hand extended to guide you. He will be there to cradle you into his chest, to hold you close when your world falls apart.

The way All For One was there for him.

The beginning of the end starts with you being a hero.

But you save the wrong person.

Toga’s been following him around as she does every so often, dogging in his shadow, skipping along beside him. You’ve become accustomed to her, too. She likes having you around. Something about not being the only girl. You’re kind to her in the same way he thinks you probably wanted kindness at her age.

The sky is mottled purple, bruised as the day sets into night. The sun looks like an open wound, violent and red.

When he thinks about it, he figures he should’ve been more careful, but then there’s a petty villain Tomura knows vaguely, someone they’ve clashed with before, who he’s pretty sure Dabi and Toga pissed off. He spots Toga first. Your back is turned to him.

��Uh oh,” Toga says, peering over your shoulder.

Tomura grabs your wrist, “Hide,” he hisses, and when you try to peer over your shoulder at what Toga is looking at, he forces you back around so the villain doesn’t see your face.

He doesn’t know why he saves you like that. Only that he doesn’t want you to get in trouble, doesn’t want you taken from him like that. He is not an idiot; if the villain recognizes you, if it somehow got around that you were seen with two of the most notorious villains, the Hero Commission would eat you alive.

And here’s the part that really gets him. You listen to him. You trust him.

You dart away, swift and fast like a fox, disappearing into the shadows the way you were trained to.

“Hey!” the villain shouts and he’s large, Tomura remembers now.

Stupid, too, he thinks, as he barrels towards them.

The glint of Toga’s knife in the sun makes him pause.

Better to not engage, Tomura thinks, not yet, not now. Too much on the horizon for something foolish to happen tonight. The apartment isn’t far from here. He hopes you’ll retreat there. He just needs to get Toga away safely now.

“Oh, I’ve missed fighting!” she sings.

“No,” Tomura rasps, “Don’t engage. We need to go, too.”

She whines a long and drawn out, “Why?” just as the hulking mass of a person swings at her. She ducks away easily, quickly.

However, then his Quirk bursts to life and it’s far worse than what Tomura had hoped for. He doubles in size, his arms in particular growing longer, and fill out with what seems to be rushing water.

“Dammit, Toga,” he hisses, shoving her out of the way as the villain blasts a large cannon of water at her.

Tomura takes the hit hard, black coloring his vision when he hits the ground.

In truth, he thinks he is out for at least a full minute, because when he’s come to, you’re shouting at the villain. You’re tugging desperately at his massive shoulder, clawing and screaming. You’ve canceled his Quirk, but he’s still too big, even without it.

Toga is pinned beneath that arm, choking and spluttering, drenched. It actually looks like she’s choking on water. She can’t even scream, too garbled, too water-logged. She looks like a doll, she looks horribly small. Her face is turning a deep shade of red as she struggles for breath. Her little hands claw at his wrist, too.

Tomura tries to stand, his vision swimming, swaying so bad that for a minute everything goes sideways.

Fuck, he curses, just as he watches you get tossed away by that villain’s other hand like you’re nothing. His Quirk suddenly ripples back to life and he blasts Toga with another bout of water, plastering her to the gravel, the onslaught of it unending.

You’re up in an instant, throwing yourself onto his neck, trying to wrench him off. His Quirk disengages again, and Toga heaves and gasps for breath, coughing up large amounts of water.

“You’re going to kill her!” Tomura finally can catch onto what you’re saying, what you’re desperately screaming. His ears ring.

You get thrown off again. More water. Toga is being blasted so hard that she can’t even choke or struggle.

Tomura thinks you’re trying to rationalize with them, you’re trying to explain you’re a hero. And to disengage. Stop, please stop, please stop–

He’s not listening, though, of course.

And he’s too big. You tried knocking him out, tried putting him to sleep with the grip of your elbow. You’re trying everything, even to crush his Quirk beneath yours. Tomura catches the flutters of pink, your inability to summon your destruction when you need it.

It wouldn’t matter anyways, not with how big he is. You struggle against powerhouses.

Tomura stumbles.

But you’ve always been gritty and sharp and determined, if nothing else. You have always fought so desperately for your life, never mind law or honor or glory.

He thinks he catches the glint of your knife, the desperate threat to let her go, leave her alone!

The villain grabs you with a massive hand around the throat, lifts you clear off the ground.

Toga has gone slack against the pavement in a puddle of water, face colored a strange shade of red and blue. A little like the way the sky blurs before his eyes.

You kick and thrash, a horrible growl wretched from your throat. You don’t think, just lash out.

And then there is blood. So much blood. It’s all over Toga now, seeping into the water– did she cut him? She managed to cut his throat? Because that’s where the blood is pouring out of–

Tomura sways.

You’re dropped.

You stumble away.

Your blade– the one you used to threaten him with, is bloody.

“Fuck!” you shout, raw and so sudden that it jars him a little. He forces himself over to the scene. So much blood. His stomach rolls.

He looks at you, your shell-shocked face. You’re looking at the knife, at the blood. At Toga, who's still not moving.

He goes to her first, tries to shake her a little, fingers held away from her shoulders carefully. For a moment, she doesn’t respond, limp and lifeless and something inside of him threatens to overwhelm him. No, no–

Her eyes flutter, though, and she wheezes for a breath, suddenly turning over to vomit up far too much water.

“I-Is she-?” your voice, so small and lost, cuts through his thoughts.

He looks at you again, blood splattered and terror caught in your eyes. Pale and slack faced and half-mad. You look like a ghost, standing there in the aftermath, in your gruesomeness.

“She’s fine,” he says, just as she wretches up more water, “You saved her.”

Toga falls limp again. He checks frantically for a pulse at her wrist with two careful fingers. Still there. She needs a doctor, though. He stands to face you.

You make a noise, high pitched, trembling. You cover your mouth to keep it in, it’s something like a sob, an animalistic noise.

“I didn’t mean to– I didn’t, I didn’t– she was just–” you’re trying to get out, almost doubled over now.

Tomura doesn’t bother to check if you killed the villain. He knows the dead when he sees it. And he won’t lie to you now, he won’t soften this blow or shield you from it.

But he also knows what he needs to do.

You keel over, about to scream more and– no, that won’t do you any good.

He grabs for you, hauls you back up and you’re shaking so hard that he fears you’re going to split apart. You’re about to lose it.

“Listen to me,” Tomura hisses and you choke on a cry. He shakes you a little, tries to force you to look at him and not the body behind him. Your eyes, feverish pink, meet the wildfire of his, “Listen to me.”

“I– I don’t–”

“Sshh,” Tomura hisses, palm going to your cheek, a little too rough, forcing you to look at only him. “Sshh, listen.”

You try to swallow and he continues, “You’re going to call reinforcements. You’re going to tell them there’s a villain down.”

“W-what?! I’m going to– they’re going to–”

He shakes you again, harder, your teeth click together with the force of it. He needs you to understand this– needs you to hear this if he wants to keep you safe and out of jail.

“Tell them I decayed him. And before that, tell them Toga cut him, and it splattered onto you. Say you heard commotion and like the good hero you are, you ran to help.”

“Tomura–” you sob.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps instead, grabbing you harder, his fingers curling against your cheek to press desperately into you. “Answer me!”

“Yes–” you gasp, wide-eyed and terrified. “Yes!”

“Good,” he hushes, wiping blood from your cheek, “Good. You saved her,” he tells you, “You saved her, do you understand?”

You nod, jerky, and he continues, hand petting your cheek, messily pushing your hair from your face, “You did everything right.”

Your breathing is still labored, but you’re quieting with the praise. When he thinks you can handle it, he breathes, “Now, are you ready? I’m going to decay him and the knife, then I’m going to leave with Toga. You’re going to call for help.”

You glance at the villain, lying lifeless, in his own pool of blood and Tomura ducks his head to force you to look at him. “Okay?” he asks, “Answer me.”

“Okay,” you exhale slowly.

“Good,” he murmurs, “Good. Now give me the knife.”

You press it, trembling, into his hands. It’s slick with blood. He forces himself to stay calm for you.

He steps away, let’s go of you. The knife turns to dust.

“Look away,” he commands then, his voice a rasp.

And you– you listen to him. You trust him. You turn away. He sets his hands on the villain. And just like that, his body breaks down, gore at first, until it is nothing but dust. It blows away easily.

And then he goes to Toga and he lifts her carefully. She’s like a ragdoll in his arms, soaked and cold. He’s certain to keep his hands away from her, fingers lifted away, but she lolls into his chest.

When you turn around, Tomura says, “Thank you for saving her.” And he means it.

You swallow hard. You look to where the villain was. He’s gone now.

“Now call your heroes, just like I said.”

You nod, eyes filling up with tears. That’s fine. They’ll have more sympathy for you, for what you’ve witnessed. They’ll believe you more. Your mentor will protect you, with those tears in your eyes.

Tomura’s eyes burn crimson as you pull out your phone, “Do what I said and you’ll be okay.”

And you do, just like that. You lift the phone to your ear. That semblance of calm that he had coaxed you into shatters the moment someone picks up on the other end.

Your voice goes high, near hysterical, “T-There’s a villain down–”

He turns away from you as you stutter and cry into the phone about what happened. You give them the lie he told you to feed them. You make Tomura out to be the villain, you make yourself out to be innocent. He holds Toga close to him.

He tries not to smile, a dizzy slip of a thing, as you do exactly as he told you to– as you lie and lie and lie through your teeth.

Toga stirs in his arms. Police sirens are heard in the distance. An ambulance for a pile of dust. The sun sets, darkness blanketing the world, shielding it from the light.

And as he stalks away, with Toga alive and in his arms, he thinks maybe he’ll make a villain of you yet.

***

The police believe you. It’s hard not to, when there is so little evidence otherwise. Tomura destroyed it all for you. It’s hard not to believe you, when you’re crying and terrified, as you should be for witnessing the death of another person at the hands of Himiko Toga and Shigaraki Tomura.

Shouta, however, is not as easily convinced.

Not after so many strange occurrences with Tomura.

When he brings you back to his apartment, when the door is shut tight, and you still stand in bloodied clothes with your teeth chattering, Shouta eyes you warily.

You want to shower, burn yourself beneath the spray of water, like you could wash away what you’d done. You squeeze your eyes shut.

You saved her.

You swallow down the lump in your throat.

“What really happened?” Shouta asks, almost tentatively, standing in the middle of his living room.

You turn and you don’t– you don’t know how you should react. Should you be offended that he’d doubt you? React in outrage after all that’s happened? Should you act confused? Play dumb?

You can’t stomach any of it. Not when someone’s dead at your hands. But someone is alive because of them, too.

Your eyes well up with fresh tears.

“I-I told you.” you choke out.

Shouta’s jaw ticks. He draws in a slow breath, “Something isn’t adding up. You have had more contact with Shigaraki Tomura than anyone has been able to have.”

Your stomach drops. Your tears fall harder.

“What’s going on?” he asks and the distance between you two feels massive. It feels continental in the small space of his living room. He seems suspicious.

The lie comes out on a sob, “I–I think he’s been stalking me.”

“What?” Shouta asks and any uncertainty he has in you evaporates as he watches your face crumple.

You let your guilt overwhelm you into choking on another cry, cover your mouth as if you could catch it in the palm of your hand. Shouta doesn’t know the truth of it, so he believes it.

He crosses that distance like it’s nothing now. He stands tall in front of you, reaches to try and brush tears away from your cheek.

“I don’t know–” you gasp, filling out your lie, “I think he's interested in me because of my Quirk. Because he can’t– I can’t decay, when he touches me.”

Shouta tips your face up towards his but you can’t look him in the eyes, let your eyes squeeze shut when he asks, “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“I don’t know–” you choke out, “I wasn’t sure.”

“Did something else happen?” Shouta prods gently and you grit your teeth to keep back another sob. More tears cut tracks down your face, right into Shouta’s waiting, gentle hands.

There is a long moment where you think of giving everything up. You think of telling Shouta everything, if only to lift the weight that has settled onto your chest. Surely, it will crush through your sternum, surely your heart will burst with it’s pressure.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper, “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“No,” Shouta says then, gentle but firm, shaking his head, “I know it may feel like it–”

“He was going to kill her.”

This stops Shouta. He goes very, very still.

“What?” he rasps softly.

“He was drowning her– he wouldn’t stop. I tried to get him to stop and he started choking me–and she saved me by–” It’s a fabrication to save yourself. That’s not how it went! Your mind screeches, that’s not how it went– you saved her by killing–

Toga was turning blue, she didn’t help you. She didn’t save you. She was drowning. She didn’t kill him. You did.

“You saved Toga Himiko, a notorious villain, one of the most wanted–”

“He was killing her!” you hiss, “She was turning blue–”

“She’s a powerful villain, too, you should’ve tried–”

Something inside of you fractures, bursts apart the way glass does when thrown against a wall. You think there are a million, shining pieces of you now lying on the floor.

“She’s Shinsou’s age!” you snap, hoping one of your shards cuts him, suddenly half-furious through all your tears. “She’s Shinsou’s age, do you know that?!”

You break now, wrenching away from Shouta’s touch and rushing to double over the sink to dry heave again, body squeezing painfully. You threw up everything in your stomach already at the scene, when recounting the story to the police, to Shouta. You claw at your stomach, trying to stop it, to keep it all down inside of you. You curl your fingers into the divots of your ribs, try to force them to give you air, but they won’t– betrayers that they are, they squeeze and squeeze until there’s nothing of you left.

Your knees buckle, head spinning when you turn away from the sink and crumple into a heap on the floor,“She’s just a kid,” you wail desperately, “That’s all I saw when I tried– when I–”

Your head bows forward, body folded in on itself, forehead digging into the ground as you cry, “I didn’t mean for him to die, I didn’t mean it– I didn’t, I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Shouta moves again finally, drops to his knees down beside you. He cradles your skull in his large hand, pushes your head into the crook of his neck to hold you, “It’s alright,” he breathes, curling his other arm tight around you, “It’s not your fault,” he hushes, “It’s not your fault.” You sob hard into his chest, fingernails digging into him, clawing at his biceps, “Sshh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

And he holds you, buries you in the bulk of him, like he always has when you need him. Your constant, the love you never once deserved. Especially not now. Especially not here, with blood stained on your clothes, sunk to the floor with nothing but the anchor of your guilt.

He strokes your hairline, gentle, cooing softly to try and calm you.

He murmurs, his voice so deep and soft and earnest, “You’re a good hero.” When you make a strangled noise against him, he presses on, “You are. You’re compassionate. You see everyone’s humanity and that’s a good thing.”

He hushes more of your cries, fingers gentle in your hair, and you try not to throw up again when he tells you;

“You’re a good hero, I promise. I promise.”

The beginning of the end starts with you being a hero for a villain.

***

The next time you see Tomura, he questions you about what happened, if you pulled it off. You tell him you managed it, somehow. You don’t tell him anything else. You don’t tell him you haven’t been sleeping, that you can hardly keep food down. You don’t tell him that you take too many showers, trying to wash away the phantom blood.

You remember when it was Tomura’s blood on you, so long ago. A beginning that now seems so hazy. You hadn’t minded blood, then. You had never been particularly squeamish but now–

Now it could make you sick on your best days, downright hysterical on your worst.

Your guilt tears chunks out of you, bites down and shakes the meaty, soft parts of you until you’re all torn up.

It is easier to be with Tomura than Shouta now.

We have more in common, you think, and it makes you want to laugh, empty and wobbly.

You look in mirrors and hardly recognize yourself, wonder if this is really your body. If this is really your life, or if it’s someone else’s. Maybe you are possessed, maybe that explains how you got here.

You don’t tell him any of this. You stay silent.

And that’s okay because Tomura seems strangely quiet after that, pulling you to lay on his chest. He doesn’t let you put the TV on. You can tell he needs to think. You let your eyes drift close as he runs his fingers through your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness, compared to his usual petting.

But eventually he says, so soft that you fear you almost imagined it, “A yakuza head visited the League recently.”

Your eyes flutter open and in your surprise, you sit up a little, looking down at him. “Tomura–” you start, almost a warning.

He knows he isn’t supposed to talk like this here, in this little slice of another world.

But he continues anyways, his voice just a rough scratch, “He killed Magne.” And then, “And Compress no longer has an arm.”

Now you really pull away to look at him. You can feel your eyes widen out, your shock, then the stomach-turning sadness. His face is unreadable, but his jaw is tight. His eyes are simmering, so red, even in the low light like this.

“It was a set up.” he hisses, “I failed them.”

He doesn’t cry, but you can feel the slightest tremble in his body.

You hurt for him, you realize, your heart falling into the pit of your stomach. Those are two of his closest, some of his inner circle.

He looks shaken.

He looks young, with the weight of his world on his shoulders, with the crown of thorns placed on his head. Heir to a monstrous throne. All For One’s successor, boy prince to inherit an underground empire.

You just see him, though, just Tomura who's twenty, who likes sour candy and video games.

He swallows hard. He looks angry and hurt.

“Nobody mourns us,” he says eventually, looking away from you, somewhere in the darkness of the apartment.

Except you, you want to say, with a name like Tomura.

You lurch forward, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tight to you. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, soft, the way Shouta speaks to you, “I’m sorry.”

And then you think, I’d mourn you, and you squeeze him tighter, I’d mourn you, oh God, I’d mourn you–

He doesn’t hug you back, but you can feel the shaky breath he exhales, and the way his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt.

***

Tomura thinks it should be you, at his side, when he takes Overhaul’s arm. You are everything Overhaul wants. Your Quirk is what he has tried to bottle.

Tomura thinks you could’ve been useful, to switch off his Quirk, to destroy it in an incredible twist of irony. It would’ve been the ultimate power move, to have you at his side by the end of all of this.

But you’re not there, no, not with him.

You’re with your heroes, Toga had told him.

It shouldn’t, but it feels like a betrayal. It stings hard and sharp inside of him, like a livid bee that jabs at his heart.

He seethes about it. Hadn’t he done everything right with you? He’d played this game slow, knew that the rewards would be worth it.

You’re still walking away from him, though. You’re still not his.

And you’ve still got one of his ribs, left a gaping wound inside of him.

He wants it back. He wants it back.

***

Eri looks up at you with watery, red eyes when you first introduce yourself to her. You crouch to be on her level. She has silver hair. She’s timid, wobbly bottom lip and flushed cheeks.

You almost start crying, looking at her now. You wonder if this is what Tomura was like as a child– small and terrified of his Quirk, round red eyes pleading with the world. All you see in her is every other forgotten child.

“Hi, Eri,” you hush, half for her, half because you’re scared your voice might break.

“H-hello,” she trembles.

You try to keep your smile in place, but it’s a weak, sad thing.

Still, you say, “I’d like to be your friend, if you’ll have me.” And you extend your hand to her, palm up and offering. “I have a Quirk like Mr. Aizawa’s.” you tell her gently, “If you touch me while using your Quirk, it’ll stop.”

She brightens at this, not smiling but, surprised, “Really?” she asks, just a breath.

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat, “Really.”

She takes your hand then, eager, tightening with her small fingers, despite her Quirk still being off.

Then she looks up into your face and offers you a tentative smile. Small, just the corner of her lips lifting up.

“I’d like to be your friend, too.” she murmurs bashfully and you close your hand around hers. It’s small, almost fragile. She’s all bandaged up, arms wrapped in gauze.

You look at Eri and her red eyes and silver hair and see a coin toss, see it up in the air, spinning and spinning, catching in the light. A twist of fate like the flip of a coin.

But you think you could call it now, with her hand in yours, and the heroes that hover protectively around her.

***

There is a morning shared in blush light that isn’t the ending but feels like it could be one. In truth, you’d prefer to remember this as the ending, more of a whimper and less of a bang. The night before had been one of your better ones, too– you’d only woken once with a nightmare. Tomura had already been awake and he’d soothed you with a careful hand that drew patterns across the bare skin of your back.

That night, that morning, was gentle in the wake of all that violence, love taken root, finally bursting through your veins to make a mess of your insides.

Dawn is too mellow a place for the two of you.

(You have come to the conclusion that Tomura looks best in dusk, saturated, sharp and rich in color. Bold and vivid. You didn’t know it, but he thought the same of you.)

You never told him you loved him.

You think about that a lot, wonder if it would’ve made a difference in anything. You wonder who was the last person to tell him that, if anyone at all.

He’s still half hoping that you’ll follow him, but you think he knows he’s losing you. You are not content in fuming misery, cannot stomach to leave the mentor that has loved and cared for you with such perseverance and softness. You cannot stomach to turn away from the boy with violet hair, or now the girl that reminds you of him.

You wish you could keep him, too, despite it all, but all you see in the future with him is rubble.

In the least, you’ve always had a sense of preservations, survivor that you are, scavenger that you are. You know when to move on, can’t linger too much longer now or you won’t live through it.

You sleep better with Tomura, though, and that’s the cruel part. You wake with less nightmares. You sleep more soundly, wound up in him, so tight that you two might just grow together. Palm to palm, your Quirk quieting his, lulled and softened.

And that morning, you wake slowly, twisting around fitfully with the warmth that has blossomed gently inside of you.

Consciousness creeps to you, fighting against the pull of sleep, being coaxed awake by the fluttering of your heart, the slow roll in your core.

Your eyes lift, heavy with sleep, finally awake. You blink blearily before a sudden, sleep soft cry escapes past your lips.

You glance down the line of your body to find Tomura nestled between your legs, tongue tracing messy patterns into where you’re most sensitive. Your stomach swoops sweetly, flares into a spark of heat.

The light is soft on him. He cracks a ruby eye open to gaze at you, to open his mouth so you can watch the flash of glistening pink as his tongue laves against you slowly.

“About time you woke up,” he gets out, voice still morning-rough, a little grating. His fingers squeeze your thigh, pulling you apart further to be at his mercy, spread open all for him.

“Tomura–” you gasp, your hands finding their way into his hair, fingers gentle and weak with sleep.

He sets his mouth to you, sucks on the bundle of nerves in a way that makes you keen, almost arching away from him. He fixes his eyes on your face, watches as your expression twists up.

You can see the way his hips are twitching into the mattress. Sometimes you think he does this more for himself than you, takes pleasure in rendering you down to your most basic, most desperate.

Pleasure coils warm, simmers on the inside of you. Your fingers flex, tighten in his hair until he groans against you. When he pulls away for another moment to admire you, his lips are spit slick, a string of translucent spit and slick bridging between the two of you.

It makes you flush darkly, makes you throw your head back and whimper.

He takes you apart with the savagery and viciousness that he has always carried. Dawn spills over the bed sheets in rays of peach and honeysuckle, lovely for the impending destruction. You shatter like glass, pretty and ringing beneath his hands.

And then he’s flipping you onto your stomach, letting you claw at your pillow as he sinks deep inside of you. He hisses when he fucks into the crux of your sweet, supple thighs. Your hair is messy with sleep. He presses his chest to your back, presses you into the mattress.

You fist at your pillow, whining at the burn and stretch, and you can feel the sickle cut of his smile against the arch of your shoulder blades. He leaves sloppy kisses, scattering them, sucking at your skin until he has claimed and marked and branded you.

He nudges his nose against your cheek until you tilt your head back to his, to rub back affectionately, nudge into him like a cat. He hums in satisfaction, in pleasure, the sound of it rumbling against your back.

You feel like he’s trying to savor this. He doesn’t pull your hair, or speed up his hips. No, he waits until you arch your back for him, until you’re near begging.

He likes you weakened, maybe delirious, maybe like he’s giving you a dose of your own medicine. He’s trying to make you as addicted as he is, but there’s no need.

No need when he covers your hand with his, slots his fingers between yours. All five of them, squeezing at your hand.

“You were made for me,” he gets out, giving you a rougher thrust, his eyes flashing to your hands, “See?” he groans, fingers digging into your wrist, your knuckles, “Made for me.”

You moan, too, all wobbly and pitched, with all the pressure, with the squeeze of his hand. With the stretch of him inside where you’re vulnerable and soft and slick.

He drags everything out that morning, fucks you both into oversensitivity, until you’re both shuddering and gasping. He breaks you down, until there are tears streaming down your face, until he’s gripping you so tightly that he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his hand.

He fits his hand against your throat at one point and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You end where you began, with the violet petal bruise of his fingertips into your skin.

You linger in bed with him that morning, letting him pet and stroke and touch you. You stay gentle, even when he gets rough.

You make cheap, bad coffee for the both of you.

You feel twenty something with a boy and his tiny apartment. A cat chirps at the window and you’re smiling when you let him in. The breeze is cool. You don’t put on clothes because you feel like an adult, with a lover.

You feel normal for a fraction of a moment after everything that’s happened.

You feel sated and tender and saddened. Your chest fills with aching as you watch Tomura drift in and out of sleep in the sunbeams.

You were made for me, he’d said and you reach out to brush a strand of hair from his face. You were made for me.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, the one that feels like needle pricks and the hard truth. You don’t have the heart to tell him that he may need you, but you don’t need him.

You want him, though, your fingers trailing down the lines of his face, you want him so badly that it hurts. Your fingers travel over the hitch of his scars, his body as familiar as a home.

You want him, but you don’t need him, you try to tell yourself in this moment. You want him, but you don’t need him. You will survive this.

Still, it’s going to hurt. You’re bracing for impact, can feel the free fall rush up to the ground, can feel your stomach swimming up where your heart is.

You’ll survive it, you think, breathing hard, trying to keep back your tears as you look at him. But it’s going to hurt, it might tear out something very precious inside of you.

You’d rather he just break your arm again. At the thought of it, you try not to choke on the bitter, furious laugh that splits from your aching ribs.

***

You get to know Eri, try to spend more time with her and Shouta and Shinsou like you’re trying to fix something you broke. The pieces aren’t quite matching up right, though. It can’t be fixed, not really, not fully.

You can’t close your eyes without seeing that villain in a pool of their own blood. Or Toga’s face made blue. Sometimes in these dreams, it’s Shinsou who is drowning. Sometimes the villain in blood is Shouta. Tomura is always the one who saves you.

You can’t look at yourself anymore. You can’t stomach to. Your lies explode out of you when you catch a glance of yourself, haggard and exhausted and beaten down.

Shouta takes you to a hospital after your fist collides with the mirror in your bathroom. Glass shatters into hundreds of reflections of your warped and terrible image. They’re not as pretty, when the sun isn’t setting in a warehouse with a boy that you think you love.

Your hand bleeds the way that man’s necks did–

Your world spins as you lean over the bowl of the toilet to throw up your lunch. You’d made it with Eri earlier, before Shouta had gotten home from class.

Shouta finds you on the floor, sitting in all that glass, with your hand clutched tightly to your chest. He must’ve heard the commotion next door.

“What happened?” he asks, voice flooding with concern. He doesn’t hesitate to step carefully over the glass to you.

The question feels too large for you.

I did something horrible, you think, that’s what happened.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly, lifting your chin from its place on your chest. “I didn’t mean to.”

(That isn’t true and you know it.

(But you’re always trying to prove you’re good. Especially now. Especially to Shouta– trying to prove you’re worthy of his love.

You suddenly crave Tomura. You didn’t have to prove anything to him.)

Shouta lifts you carefully, cradles you to his body to carry you out to his car to bring you to the hospital. He treats you like you’re fragile, made of glass yourself. “What’s going on with you?” Shouta murmurs gently, but there's almost a plea in it, concern that is so transparent it hurts, “You’re scaring me– I’m worried about you.” he confesses, almost desperate, “You know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

The laugh that sputters out of you is hollow, a grating noise that gets choked off. Shouta looks at you warily, uncertain and fearful.

The hospital keeps you for three days. Eri asks Shouta about you, apparently. She misses you. Shinsou helps her decorate a card for you.

Get well soon! Is written in her poor handwriting with far too many colors, and in Shinsou’s messy scrawl at the bottom;

Miss getting my ass kicked by you.

The doctors tell Shouta you’re struggling with a lot of survivor’s guilt and you have to fight back another absurd, off-kilter laugh.

Part of you thinks you’d be better off with Tomura at this point (your coin uncertain, hanging suspended in the air), if only to relieve you of this guilt, when Shouta tends to you and cares for you and loves you so steadfastly that it makes you feel rotten and horrible and monstrous. He has no idea who he’s loving. And you don’t deserve any of it–

But you think of Eri and the way she clings to your sleeves. And how you and Shinsou share granola bars during training.

And mostly, you are terrified to be without them.

None of it’s the same, though, and you think it’ll eat away at you until you’re nothing at all but the empty lies you kept feeding them.

You want to be better, you realize, when Eri draws you in pictures, holding her hand. You want to be better, you realize, for kids like you, like her–

(Like Tomura–)

So you decide one night, with your hand still bandaged, with Eri sleeping peacefully on the couch in the crux of your arms, and Shouta at the opposite end of the couch, that you will stay with them. The easy thing to do would be to leave, to not look back. But you have always been nothing if not determined, if not a fighter.

You will become who they want you to be, who they believe you to be, even if it tears you apart from the inside out.

Which means giving up Tomura, which feels like giving up a rib.

***

You had hoped you’d be able to slip away from Tomura and leave your secrets in a rundown apartment in a part of the city you grew up in. You had hoped that you could get away unscathed, without Shouta ever knowing more.

But Dabi mentions you to Hawks.

Offhand. Something about another traitor hero. Something about Shigaraki’s bitch.

Tomura also mentions Hawks to you.

And here is your trouble, what you were hoping to avoid by never allowing him to speak about his plans; you now know that the Number Two Pro-Hero is a traitor. However, the only reason you know that, is because of your secret relationship with the leader of the League of Villains that you have been slowly, painstakingly trying to sever yourself from.

(It doesn’t help that he’s latched on tighter–)

So, if you go to Shouta to warn him that the Number Two Pro-Hero is a traitor, you have to also conveniently come forward with your own truth. And what if he thinks you’re a traitor, too?

Surely, it looks that way.

Truthfully, you might as well be– you killed someone.

You killed someone.

Your stomach squeezes tight.

You think of Shouta and Shinsou and Eri and the loss of their love, when you’ve been trying to earn it back.

You don’t get much time to mull this over, though, because while walking back to your own apartment at U.A., a shadowy span of wings fall over your form.

Your heart falls into the pits of you, the drop of it sharp, horrible.

You think running will make it look all the worse.

Besides, he’s fast.

You can’t decide how this will go. Maybe he’ll only want to speak with you, traitor to traitor. But then you will be confronted with the undeniable truth that you now need to share with Shouta, with the Hero Commission, for the sake of people’s safety. You will have to come clean. Maybe it will be worse. Maybe he’s not after you at all, but just in your neck of the woods because–

All other thoughts are cut short when he lands in front of you.

You try to think of a proper reaction. Should you be expecting him? On guard? Should you act surprised?

His wings flare and you realize quickly how massive they are. They throw you into their towering shadow, make you feel like a mouse.

His eyes glint when he pushes up his visor, the gold of them sharp, his pupils a pinprick. The eyes of a predator.

You try not to cower. You stand your ground, lift your lips a little like you might bare teeth in warning, your hackles raising. Backed into the corner, you feel half wild, too.

But Hawks beats you to any form of a greeting, his smile a menacing twist of his lips, like he’s trying to be pleasant but he wants you to see all of those sharp, white teeth of his. You think he doesn’t look like much of a hero in this darkness, with the way his wings look thorny and maroon. His voice is barbed wire, the drawl of it stinging.

You know you’re in deep trouble now;

“You and I need to have a little talk.”

***

You are kept in a steel room that the Hero Commission tells you is not a holding cell, but you definitely think is a holding cell.

Your mind has not slowed since you got here.

You scramble for a story to tell– for lies to sew.

Hawks is not a traitor. Not to the heroes’ at least. He is a traitor to the villains and you know, logically, that this is for the greater good, but something about it bothers you. Villains aren’t people to the Hero Commission. You feel strangely protective of Tomura’s league of outcasts, even if you know you shouldn’t.

But they’re young, with feelings and thoughts and lives and pasts.

Nobody ever mourns us.

No, they don’t, you think, trying to keep away bitter tears from springing to your eyes. They don’t bother trying to see the big picture, they don’t bother to try and figure out why villains are on the rise.

They can’t stomach the idea that maybe their precious hero system has given birth to their villains.

Or maybe they can and they just don’t care.

They need heroes for their charts and money and power, don’t they? So they need villains. A never ending cycle, forever going around on this carousel. You’re dizzy with it, you’re sick of it, caught up in it’s riptide.

You don’t look at Tomura Shigaraki and see the most dangerous, wanted criminal in the country. You see a twenty-year-old pawn, a chip in a bigger game. You see someone as starving and desperate as you were.

You see a coin flip.

(You see the person you fell in love with–)

Shouta enters silently and the moment you see him, you have to try to keep from bursting into tears. Your lip wobbles.

He approaches slowly, cooly, but when he gets near you, his eyes are livid and searching your face, like maybe he could finally find the lies you’d kept buried so deep inside of you. They’ve finally blossomed, you think, all of them sprouting from your body, creeping through your lungs and up your throat to choke you out.

“Tell me the truth finally.” Shouta says, sharp and icy. He speaks like he’s speaking to a criminal, “Now.”

You suck in a shaky breath, try not to flinch when he leans across the metal table and snarls, “And if you are a traitor, at least have the decency to tell me now, before they come in here and interrogate both of us.”

Tears catch in your lashes.

Through the throbbing of your head, you realize you have jeopardized Shouta in the way you never wanted.

“I’m not a traitor.” you get out, voice quiet but firm, barely above a whisper.

“No?” Shouta clips and you can see it now, the hurt in his eyes. He feels betrayed, deeply so, and you can’t even blame him. “Hawks says differently. Says you’ve been working with Shigaraki.”

You rub furiously at your cheek to try and keep the tears from falling, shaking your head quickly, “No–”

“Then what happened?” he snaps and through the blur of your own tears, you catch the way his own eyes glisten.

“I didn’t tell you everything, when I said I thought Shigaraki was stalking me.” you say, having readied this lie the moment that Hawks brought you to the Hero Commission’s doors. You give them the story they want to hear of you, not the one where you fell in love, but the one where you jeopardize yourself for them. You are careful to peer up at him through damp lashes, “I–I got close to him, because he let me, because he was interested in me.”

Shouta goes very, very still. All you can see is his chest rising and falling, quick, as he slowly begins to walk the path you’re leading him down.

“And I thought he might tell me his plans, I thought that I could help–”

“No,” Shouta says in disbelief as it all begins to connect, leaning away from you in shock, “Please tell me you didn’t–”

You lurch towards him slightly, naturally, your hands coming up to the table like you’re reaching for him. “I wanted to prove I could do this–” you choke out, voice breaking, “I wanted to prove I could do undercover work like you wanted– like they wanted!”

“What were you thinking?” he hisses in return.

“You never would’ve let me do this!” you snap, almost plead with him, and it must strike true because he looks away from you momentarily, “I-I saw an opening so I tried to take it– I was perfect for it. Shigaraki was interested in me. I used to be a thief. I would’ve fit in.”

The moment you say it, you realize how true it rings. It startles you, maybe, with how close you were. Almost, but didn’t, your coin doing an extra rotation in air. And why didn’t you? Why not be with Tomura now? Why not be where you fit in most? Where hero society wanted and expected you to be?

“I’m not a traitor,” you cry, tears tracking down your cheeks freely now– you think you’re trying to convince yourself as much as Shouta now, “I promise I’m not a traitor– I couldn’t do that to you. O-or Shinsou. Or Eri–”

And there is your reason. The truth to disguise your lies. You look at him, across from you, his face almost unreadable, with his furrowed brows and tense jaw. His eyes shine, though, gleam with unshed tears as he listens to you. The man who gave you everything, who has cared for you since the moment he found you– perhaps the sole reason your coin has flipped in their favor. All because he did more than what was asked of him, because maybe he just saw someone starving, too, like the way you did with Tomura.

Believe me, you plead, believe this.

There is a long stretch of silence after that, where all you can get in is hiccuping breaths.

Finally, Shouta asks, “Did you find anything out about him? Or the League of Villains?”

You exhale hard with relief, your shoulders finally falling. You collapse somewhat, exhausted, folding in on yourself.

You hang your head, then shake it slowly, “No,” you sniffle, wipe at your drippy nose, “He didn’t tell me anything. He didn’t trust me.”

Shouta eyes you warily.

“So that’s why you encountered him so much. That’s why you were there with Toga Himiko when–” Shouta cuts himself off when he sees your wince, the shuddering of your features at the mention of that incident. But he finally put all of the pieces together. All the pieces you’ve given him, at least.

You nod, stray tears falling quick, dripping off your chin, “I’m sorry for lying,” you get out, “I hated it— I hated lying to you.”

Truth.

Shouta throws you a hard look, “You shouldn’t have. It was dangerous and irresponsible. And now look at what you’ve done–”

Your stomach knots up tightly.

“I thought I could handle it.” You breathe and there is another truth, sprinkled throughout your lies.

But you were so horribly wrong–

Shouta is about to open his mouth again, but the door swings open and a man in a suit enters slowly. His gaze is cool as it falls on you and Shouta. You know this isn’t the end of your conversation with him, you know he wants to know more. But now, he focuses on the higher up that encourages him to sit, too.

He says, because Shouta has been such an upstanding hero and teacher, they are allowing him the courtesy of explaining everything now.

And then you watch as Shouta opens his mouth and lies and lies and lies for you.

He tells them that it was his idea to allow you to get close to Shigaraki. He knew, every step of the way. He tells them he bypassed speaking with a committee at the Hero Commission’s because it would’ve taken too much time. He says that they needed to act quickly and accordingly.

He takes the brunt of it, saves you from far more trouble. He’s a trusted hero. You’re an ex-thief in the eyes of the Hero Commission with a too-big Quirk. They won’t believe you and truthfully, if they did more digging, if they pried more, there is a chance that the truth might leak out of you, open like a wound.

Shouta protects you, the way he always has. You don’t deserve it and you can feel your heart tearing itself to shreds.

You know you can’t go back to Tomura, not after all this.

You watch Shouta lie for you, speak for you, get you out of the grave you have dug yourself. For the second time in your life, Shouta saves you. You try to hold back more tears, you try to hold back from throwing yourself onto him, clinging to him.

And finally, they ask, “Did you learn anything, then? About Shigaraki Tomura?”

He likes sour candy. He has trouble sleeping. He drinks too many energy drinks. There is a scar at the corner of his lip. He has a beauty mark on his chin. He is desperate and starved of love. He let’s a kitten sleep in the sunlight of his apartment. He tries to take care of the League to the best of his ability– he cares about them more than he will admit. He is not heartless. His hands are often cold but seeking, longing for what he can’t have.

Your eyes well up with tears but you take a slow, steadying breath. They don’t want those pieces of him, the human, messy ones. No, they want to know how evil he is, how diabolical his next plan is going to be. But you don’t know any of that, just that he holds you as if he never wants to let you go when you fall asleep at night.

So you’re not lying when you say;

“I don’t know anything about Shigaraki Tomura.”

Only that he wanted to be a hero– when he was a kid.

***

The days following are the worst between you and Shouta.

He doesn’t trust you anymore. You can’t fight him. You have nothing to say, which is perhaps worse than if you tried to fight with him.

There’s no defending you, especially if Shouta even knew half of the truth. He barely speaks with you some days.

He wedges the distance between you two wide, forces it apart further.

He does not comfort you, he does not hold you when you cry this time. He’s not there with soothing, hushed words or the gentle touch of his hand to your cheek.

A piece of his trust is broken, now so severely that it’s just a jagged edge, something you don’t think can ever be soothed.

(And you’re right, in some way– there’s a deep shift in your relationship with him, changed and scarred. It never returns to what you once had, when your life was very simple and all you knew was him.)

He doesn’t ever say, I forgive you. I will trust you again, in time.

But he eventually will make dinner for you again and you will sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder at his table with a respectable, lonesome distance between his heart and yours.

Nothing is ever the same again.

You think about running– from Shouta, from Tomura, from all of it. It would be the easiest option, where you never have to look either in the face again.

But the Hero Commission looks at Eri the same way they looked at you when they discovered you could destroy Quirks and you can’t stomach the idea of leaving her to them.

(Tomura was right in a lot of ways.

And when there’s a war on the horizon and the Hero Commission seeks to use you as a weapon, you will think of him again.

I’ll teach you, if that’s what you want, he’d said to you once. And he did.

You hate the system, the endless cycle, Prometheus chained to his rock, the need of villains to have heroes, the creation of heroes to make villains. The endless bodies, the using and discarding of real, human lives for a greater good. You wish you could destroy it.

But there is more than only destruction, too. What good is rubble and ruin and death?)

You stay so you can do what you can, so you can protect a child with red eyes, with silver hair, and a Quirk too big for their own body.

And you think maybe if you stay with her, it makes up for leaving Tomura.

***

You go to Tomura one last time, walk the distance to his apartment with your hands shoved into your pockets. It’s a familiar walk now. The pavement is wet from rain. It’s cold out. You don’t know what you’re going to tell him. You wonder how he’ll react– for a moment, you’re fearful. Will he lash out? For a moment you wonder if he’ll try to kill you.

But you know, deep down, he wouldn’t. Won’t.

And you won’t pretend you’re scared of him now. You won’t play the innocent hero, not in front of him.

The moment Tomura sees you, he knows something has changed. You are too expressive and now you look at him with a sense of foreboding. With a sadness that he feels uncomfortable gazing at.

You tell him, “I got in trouble with the Hero Commission.”

For a moment, he lets his hope grow and stretch inside of him. Maybe this is finally your turning point, your fall from grace that he will catch you on. But no, your lip wobbles and your eyes dart away.

“I can’t see you anymore,” you whisper.

At first, he wants to snap at you, hiss out something cruel between his bared teeth. Maybe if you had done this a few years ago, a few months ago, he would lash out, try to tear into his neck or you or the world. He thinks about hurting you, slamming you against a wall or–

The thought is unfortunately repulsive to him. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not like that.

His anger and resentment wells inside of him, swarms his chest viciously. He wants to argue, to point out every way your heroes have failed you. The world feels so absurdly unfair suddenly, to give him you– you who quiets his Quirk and touches him gently and winds your arms around him in the way he likes so much– only to then take you away, too. You who destroys with a touch, too. Who is perfect at his side.

But for all his work and care and strategy, he can’t get you to stay.

You will run back to your heroes.

You don’t need him, he realizes now. But you have his rib, tucked away inside of you. He wants to dig into you, pry it out, rip it from your body and take it back for himself.

But you’re crying.

And you’re pretty in the dark, like you’ve always been. This time, though, you’re not looking for a fight, there is no viciousness in you now. Maybe you’re too tired to fight.

So instead of erupting, instead of lashing out, Tomura steels himself. He’ll play the longer game, then. You don’t want to go, but you will. You’ll go back to your heroes and they will disappoint you. As they always do, at some point, eventually.

You will come back to him again, he tells himself.

And he will be forgiving, the way All For One has been with him. He sees it now; you, needing his hand, needing him to take you back. He will welcome you back into his arms, as if you hadn’t even left, and you will know then that you were right to leave.

He gazes at you, red eyes smoldering, “Then don’t.” he rasps and he’s trying to remain dispassionate, but his voice has a trembling note in it, the hidden fear underneath the harsh coolness.

Your eyes flicker back to him, your lips parting in surprise. You wipe at your eyes.

“So that’s it?”

And this makes him angry, the sharp tug of it like a dog at the end of it’s leash. He lurches forward threateningly, like he might hurt you.

(You don’t flinch. And he stops himself before he gets too close.)

“What?” he snaps, “Did you want me to beg for you to stay?”

He wants to, he realizes, he wants to howl and scream and tear apart everything in sight. He wants to say don’t go, don’t go, don’t slip from me, too.

He wants to bargain with you– what is it he can’t give you that they can?

Your heroes only love you because they don’t know you, they don’t know what you’ve done. Your heroes only love you as far as truth and justice go. A hero would sacrifice you for the greater good and you would agree with them, even if you were shaking and crying, even if you burned with all that liveliness.

But he’d sooner sacrifice the world for you.

You have his rib, he wants to scream, of course he wants to beg.

You shake your head, though, more tears falling free, “No,” you say, voice surprisingly strong, “No, I never made you beg.”

The truth of it burrows beneath his skin. He knows. The itch squirms beneath his skin. His hand reaches up, digs into the crook of his neck to scratch at it.

It’s Dabi’s voice in his head that says something about getting too distracted with this braindead hero. He has bigger plans than hiding in an abandoned apartment with you. More to do. You were nothing but a side quest.

His pause screen.

Besides, what’s there to be upset about? You’ll come back.

He won’t even punish you for leaving, he promises. He promises.

“Then that’s it.” Tomura tells you, a bitter curl to his lips.

There’s no goodbye, just the breeze between the two of you, the empty space that he always hated. The nothingness between that he always sought to destroy.

Eventually, he just turns away from you. He can’t stomach looking at you any longer. He can feel your eyes pressing into his retreating form– he imagines you rushing for him, crashing into his back to throw your arms around his middle. You can’t do it, you’ll cry, burying your face between his shoulder blades. And he’ll freeze, but eventually he’ll wrap his arms around yours and bow his head with the strength of your feelings for him.

Or he imagines later, when it’s the end of the world, and you emerge from the rubble to reach for him. It’ll be like his dreams, when the sky is falling, and you only want to hold his hand in yours.

He imagines you shouting to him, changing your mind, saying his name like it’s a song to sing, not mourning bells, not a curse or an affliction.

But none of it happens.

And when he turns around, you are gone.

You leave his life as viciously as you entered it, suddenly there, all furious and beautiful, and now gone, like a lightning strike, like a lifetime.

***

You tell yourself you’re going to be fine, but you spend random days weeping over a villain. You spend long nights awake, missing him, replaying it all in your mind. You cover all your mirrors. You try to be different. You wish you could say you regret ever getting involved with him, but it would be one more lie. You wish for the time before the worst of it, the strange honeymoon you never should’ve had.

You wish you’d remembered to slow down, to savor it all a little more. You try to remember what your first kiss was like and the shade of his eyes through the evening light of an abandoned warehouse.

You try to remember when you didn’t feel so heavy, so corrosive and lost.

It doesn’t help that you’re suspended from heroing; a choice made by both the Hero Commission and Shouta. There’s nothing for you to do some evenings.

Shouta lets you train with him and Shinsou still. Shinsou tries to cheer you up, though he doesn’t know what’s wrong with you. Still, it hurts because he’s trying. It hurts because he cares so much, even about you.

You don’t deserve it, after everything.

You take care of Eri more, too, now that she is nearly in Shouta’s care. You babysit her while he’s away. You grow close with her, fiercely protective of the young girl, careful to keep the Hero Commission at a distance from her. She settles in your lap on the couch in Shouta’s apartment most evenings, watching TV and movies, while he grades papers at the opposite end.

Sometimes she falls asleep tucked into your side. You stroke her silver hair and try to bite back tears.

She catches you, sometimes, perceptive as she is, and asks very gently, “Why are you sad?” even if a tear hasn’t slipped free yet.

And you always shake your head, trying to dispel the thought of Tomura and the parents that gave him such a tragic name as a child. You force a smile for her and you tell her something silly to distract her, “I’m not,” you promise, “I just think there’s an onion nearby.”

She wrinkles her nose at this, “No, there isn’t!” but she’s easily distracted with tickles or the promise of painting her nails or having a tea party with Shouta.

Miraculously, your relationship with Shouta begins to heal, despite your betrayal. You think he can tell something worse happened to you during your time with Tomura, you think he can tell that you’re hurting, so he ends up gentler with you. He doesn’t trust you, though, keeps you on a tight leash. He looks at you some days like he isn’t quite sure he knows you.

Nothing is the same. Part of you wants to regret it. The part of you that loves Tomura can’t stomach the idea of regretting it. Someone is dead because of you. Someone is alive because of you, too.

But Shouta doesn’t ask and you don’t tell, can’t seem to speak the words.

You can’t even say, I fell in love, can’t speak the truth because it is so horrible.

And you know what everyone would ask; who could love the likes of him?

Me, you think, vehement and grief-stricken, me, you think defiantly. Why couldn’t you? He was a child once–

Shouta lets you burrow into his chest, wraps his arms around you. He sways with you in the kitchen until you can keep back your tears, until your heart has slowed to the tempo of his. He kisses the top of your head.

And it’s Shouta who is with you, when you return from training, and open the door to your apartment to reveal a scruffy, mangy looking grey kitten that wasn’t there when you left.

Ryuji chirps happily at you, rushing to the open door.

For a moment, you’re so shocked that all you can do is stand, startled, as he rubs himself against your legs.

“Don’t tell me you found another stray–” Shouta starts, but all you get out is a small, choked noise.

And here is the impact from the fall, you think, looking at that little cat that is excitedly winding itself around your legs. You can feel the shattering of your heart, like he’d lobbed it against the wall. You wonder if it catches light the same way glass does, all stained with color and broken into shards.

You drop to the floor with the weight of it all, with the clean splitting of your heart.

The moment Ryuji climbs into your lap, a sob finally ruptures out of you.

Shouta is fast, coming down beside you, you think he’s asking what’s wrong, why you’re crying, but you’ve already gathered the kitten into your arms, cradling him to your chest as the tears come quick and furious down your cheeks.

You think maybe you should be more concerned as to how he got Ryuji here, in U.A. dorms, you should be worried about security and safety but all you’re thinking about is that little apartment that you hid from the world with him in.

No, all you’re thinking about is the way light fell through the lone window to turn him hazy and soft in your memory. You’re thinking about how he never denied you affection, so long as you gave it tenfold in turn. The drawl of his voice. The pressing of his fingers into your skin like you were a miracle.

To him, you were.

Another sob spills out of you, from somewhere deep inside you.

What a lonely life, to only be able to touch one person in certainty. You wonder who will be the next person that will lay their hands gently on a body that has known too much pain. You wonder if you will be the last person to do it.

The thought hurts, opens up a part of you that is tender and shaking and desperately furious.

When Shouta can’t figure out what’s wrong with you or why you’re crying, he gives up, and sits on the floor with you. He gathers you into his lap so your back is pressed to his chest, pushing your head beneath his chin, Ryuji still cradled in your arms.

You cry harder when Shouta tries to comfort you, when he hushes softly, so sweetly, only because you don’t think there’s anyone to comfort Tomura like this.

You think of Tomura alone, even without Ryuji and it just–

Crushes you.

You squeeze the kitten tighter to your chest as you cry and cry and cry. You let Shouta hold you against him, but there’s no comfort in the aching hollowness that is growing in the pit of your chest.

You want to scream at the world that tossed the coin.

But all that comes out is a garbled, misery struck, cry.

You never told him you loved him, never gave word to what consumed you. And you realize, sitting on the floor with a kitten in your arms, that you won’t ever be able to tell him now.

It will live and die inside of you, never spoken into existence.

And even though it’s too late and Tomura Shigaraki is readying for a battle with a giant without you at his side, you still whisper the words you never got to speak into the top of Ryuji’s head.

Your lips barely move with it, the quietest, most desperate, “I love you– I loved you.” that escapes you with a trembling breath.

Shouta doesn’t even hear the confession.

Ryuji nudges your cheek with his, though, purring softly, keeping your secret safe.

And in the least, you are able to twist into Shouta’s arms and bury your face in his chest to cry as hard as you need. There’s no distance between the two of you now, like you always wanted.

Always here when you need him, even now, when it’s not him you want.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

You mumble incoherent apologies into his shoulder, try to hide in him, like he might be able to shield you from all the hurt and ache of your first love. He doesn’t ask, but he tells you very gently, his voice like the hearth of your home, “If you ever want to talk, I’ll always be there for you.”

You keep Ryuji, clean him up, fit him with a new collar, a new life. Shouta helps you care for him.

Eri adores the kitten, hugging him to her smiling face every time she sees him. Thankfully Ryuji is even-tempered, eager for affection. Almost desperate for it.

Ryuji is like proof of another world, proof that it all happened.

Sometimes you rub between his ears and ask, “Do you miss it, too?” but all he does is peer at you inquisitively, eyes large and fixed on you.

You sleep with him, though, let the kitten curl up in your lonesome arms, hold tight to him the way you used to hold tight to Tomura.

***

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you with its insistent chime and buzzing. You blink awake sleepily, slowly and blindly paw for your phone.

You turn the screen towards you and squint at the bright light, making out the word that flashes on it;

Unknown Caller.

You grimace, rubbing at your eyes. You debate putting your phone down, letting it ring and go to voicemail. Why should you answer for an unknown caller in the middle of the night?

And yet, something in you squirms, urges you to pick up. You have no idea who it might be— maybe someone needs your help. Is it possible it’s Shouta? Shinsou? What if it’s—

You answer finally, groggy voice slurring out, “Hello?”

You’re met with static.

“Hello?” you say again, voice hushed with sleep.

Still nothing.

Tomura sits on the other side, with the phone pressed desperately to his ear. He holds everything inside of him, barely allows himself to breathe on the other end.

He doesn’t know why he’s done this, only that he is on his way to proving himself with the League and he wishes you were still at his side.

He swallows, hears you call again, “Hello? Anyone there?”

He tightens his four-finger grip on the phone, squeezing his eyes shut at the sound of your voice, sleepy and soft in his ear, wrapping around the jagged parts of his heart.

He exhales and you must hear it because you say, “Is someone there?”

He bites back an answer, feels his lip tremble slightly.

He hears you huff, indignant little thing that you are and his lips pull into a shaky, painful smile. “I’m going to hang up now,” you say, all prickly, the way you’d get if he woke you too soon.

He used to soothe you with lips and teeth and tongue, run diligent fingers over you until you were sighing and arching into his touch. Until all your hard, vicious edges softened with the flattening of his palm on your body.

And for some reason you try, one last time into coaxing him to answer, “C’mon,” you say, almost like you know, “Nothing?”

Nothing, he wants to echo, but doesn’t.

His heart pounds an uneasy rhythm, a haunted tempo. He feels himself shaking again.

“Okay,” you exhale, slow, like you’re giving him a chance to stop you, “Goodbye.”

A beat passes, before he feels his heart lurch painfully in the hollow place of his chest at the thought of not hearing your voice again like this, so near. He doesn’t want you to go, wants to listen to you until it coaxes him to sleep.

“Wait– don’t hang up–“ Tomura hisses into the phone at the last moment, unable to decide if he wants you to hear him or not.

He gets his answer in the buzzing silence, long and drawn out, that fills his head. His heart.

And he sits there with his phone still in hand and his heart still on the line.

***

Tomura shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be watching you from afar, in the park that he thought you’d looked like a painting in. You’re beautiful.

But what does someone like him know about beauty, anyways?

The fireburst leaves are nearly gone, barely clinging to lone and stark branches. They claw up into the sky now, but the sun is shining. It’s mid-morning. You’re in the park with your mentor, with the violet haired boy he’d seen you with before, and the little girl with silver hair. The one that was in Overhaul’s care, with the devastating Quirk.

She tugs excitedly at your sleeve now and you give her your undivided attention, your face lighting up with whatever it is she tells you.

You scoop her into your arms and her echoing giggle is like wind chimes, melodic and childish and care-free.

You look happy, he thinks, with your mentor’s hand on the small of your back, looking down at you and the girl fondly. The violet-haired boy says something that makes the girl laugh, it makes you smile as you watch her.

You look back at your mentor with a look that Tomura has come to know; one that begs of attention and approval and affection. He can see the desperate glint to your eyes, hungry for his love.

He swallows around the sharp bitterness he feels. Jealousy floods him in a way he has never fully known. But it’s more than just jealousy for you and your attention, for the way you’re looking at your mentor.

No, it’s something greater, far worse.

He’s jealous of your mentor, with the easy way he gets to touch and look at you out in public. But he’s also jealous of you and your life.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but he’s begun to shake.

Because you were saved– isn’t that it? You were saved. And he wasn’t.

Maybe he’s jealous of the boy with you, too, with the possibility of his life so much brighter already. He has more of a chance than Tomura ever had.

Or maybe it’s the girl in your arms, with eyes like his, who he is most jealous of now. He has never allowed himself to ask;

Why couldn’t it be me?

But now he does and he can feel the pit in his chest grow with a livid sort of despair. Grief for a life never lived. Didn’t he deserve to be saved, too? Like the girl in your arms? Like you? Didn’t he deserve a life like this, too? What’s the difference? He wants to demand it, what’s the difference?

You were just a kid, you know?

His fingers dig into his neck. There is no one to stop him from breaking skin, for drawing blood on his own body. His chest festers, angry, like a blister. His stomach turns, his body trembling harder, like he’s a child, like he’s going to shake apart.

He looks at your smiling face, the curve of your lips, and wants you so bad it hurts. He wonders if you ever dreamt of him as a hero, the way he dreams of you as a villain. He wonders why it feels so unfair suddenly, the turning of your lives, the coming together and falling apart.

He shudders, feels the sudden lump in his throat. He tried not to mourn you, when you left him. He told himself that there was nothing to mourn; either you would be back or you weren’t worth it. He feels the pressure of tears now, though, much to his frustration. He feels his lungs burn for breath as he watches you hand the little girl off to your mentor, who props her onto his hip easily.

He watches you throw your head back and laugh, the sound of it distant, but he catches it, the outskirts of it. He used to feel that laugh against his throat, against his lips.

But now he watches you live a life he apparently never deserved.

His bottom lip trembles, a furious scowl marring his face.

He could scream or shout at a world that wouldn’t listen. The fact of it all, the helplessness of it all, burns beneath his skin like wildfire, like acid.

Tomura takes one last look at you; the expressive glimmer of your eyes, the flash of your teeth. He lingers on you, commits you to memory as if he could ever forget you. Maybe someday he will. Maybe he won’t have to, if you come back to him.

But he won’t wait on it, in an apartment that still has traces of you in it’s corners and crevices. No, he has more to do, bigger than him. Bigger than you.

Even if the horrible tempo of his heart begs differently, even if the shaking in his shoulders is an indication otherwise.

One last look of you– you’re talking, saying something with your hands. The little girl laughs again, her red eyes crinkling up happily.

Tomura turns away.

He walks a familiar path to the apartment, the wind tries to slice through his jacket, kicks up leaves and litter in shadowed alleyways.

He enters and there is no one trailing behind him, your hands twisted into the back of his hoodie, or his sleeves. It’s quiet. Empty. He surveys it once, the bed with unmade sheets. The window that let in beams of colored light, that Ryuji would sit at.

And then he sets his hands on the wall, all ten of his fingers down, the way he used to touch you.

The wall begins to decay, cracks and crumbles beneath his hands. It spreads, and spreads, and spreads like a disease filling out the body of the apartment. Dust begins to fall like early snow.

His heart squeezes painfully, his eyes suddenly flooding with pressure, with tears he tries to keep back. His head throbs, feels like it’s going to cleave apart. His ribs ache– hurt so bad it’s like he can feel the one you took from him, the gaping part of his chest.

His Quirk flares hard and hot and fast. It burns through him, floods his veins in a way that makes him cry out, suddenly shaking, suddenly pained.

He destroys the apartment, disintegrates the tiny world he created with you that existed outside of the real one. He unpauses the game. He takes apart what the world should’ve been, when he was here, with you. He sees now that a world like this cannot exist.

The peace, the ideal, the way you had understood him. Your unending compassion. It’s rare. Not enough to save the rest of them.

So he tears it all apart, pushes at his Quirk in a way he hasn’t been able to before, nudges at its strength to test it. It flares outward, eating away at the entire space, at the furniture, at the floor. Everywhere.

He seethes, blooming, finally allowing that livid and vicious thing inside of him to burst forward. It’s explosive, wrenching out of him in the form of terrible destruction.

He’ll grow into what he was supposed to–

I wanted to be a hero– when I was a kid.

The only option he ever really had, the hand extended to him a villain’s, gentle when he’d taken it.

He destroys the boy inside him, the one that was naive and hopeful and weak. He let’s that boy inside of him fall apart, split open and leaks gore before turning to dust, too. He kills the part of him that he had only ever shared with you, in the blue-dark of night, when you were lulled to sleep with just the sound of his heart.

He swallows down his anguish and his jealousy and his bitterness, keeps it safe inside him, like All For One always said to do. He’ll nourish it, let it grow, fester inside of him until the only thing it can do is explode out of him to tear the world apart, too.

When he’s standing in the rubble of the tiny world you’d made with him, the apartment complex demolished, the people inside gone, he knows what he has to do.

And he has so much work to do in order to achieve it.

He tries to forget you, to destroy your memory, too. He will not carry the weight of you around inside him.

(But in his dreams, you sit cross-legged in front of him, serene and beautiful, like a painting he knows nothing about.

In his dreams, you ask for his hands to have, and he gives you them to hold.)

[dabiboy]

Hawks and reader are both virgins, doing it for the first time ! The mans busy, he hasn’t got a chance to smash yet 😆

I’m so so so so sorry this one took me ages 😭 I finished it just now, after like two weeks, hope you enjoy it!

[Warnings: NSFW, protected sex, virgin Hawks and reader, curses] Word count: 4343.

Free Fall 

''I really don't understand why did we have to travel all around the globe to see a suspect.'' You whined as you left the bags in the middle of Keigo's apartment.

''Commission rules, you know how they are kid. Can't tell them no'' Keigo walked across the apartment stretching his wings wide, it was lucky that he didn't break anything.

You and Hawks worked together, you were not trained by the commission but they were aware of your abilities, and decided that you and Hawks should work with each other. And that's how you ended traveling to California, but the guys they had checked was just a suspect, and it turned out that he had nothing to do with your case, so in order not to waste more time you had to fly back all the way to Japan. And there you were, feeling tired as hell in Hawk's apartment.

''I hate them so much'' You said again, taking your shoes off. ''Mind if I take a shower?''

''Go ahead, and you need it. You stink'' Keigo teased as he let himself fall on the couch.

You were not only working partners, but the two of you were also very good friends, trusting enough to ask him to get a shower. And even borrowing one of his shirts without asking him. So that's what you did when you got out. The bathroom was inside his room, so the first thing you saw when you got out was the large and comfy bed. Damn, you wish you could just lay there and have some good sleep. His bedroom was rather big, kinda messy but tidy at the same time, and it smelled like him, his perfume and scent. Maybe it was a bird thing, you thought. But it wasn't uncomfortable, on the contrary. It was nice.

After picking a random Keigo's shirt, you went back to the living room, and the blonde man's eyes went wide at your image. His shirt too big for your body, covering almost half of your thighs. Naked thigs. Maybe later you were going to ask him for a sweatpant.

"Earth to Hawks?" You called him with a smile by the third time. "You good?"

"What? Yeah, I just love that shirt" he could say.

"Oh, should I take it off? I don't mind"

"No, keep it on. It looks good on you" he scratched the back of his head as he stood up "I will take a shower too. Are you crushing here tonight or want me to fly you home? It is pretty late though"

"Oh, I'm not a damsel in distress, winged hero" you lifted an eyebrow "but I was thinking of staying, I feel too lazy to go out. Besides it is cold as hell" you pouted.

"Oh shut up" Keigo let out a low chuckle "Ok then, make yourself home" that was the last thing he said before heading to the bathroom.

The truth was, that things between you were kind of complicated. You had a crush on him, but you were good at hiding it. How could you not fall for someone like him? He was funny, caring, handsome, a bit of an asshole but that was part of his charm. However, you knew him a bit more than the rest. You had seen him worried after you got injured on a mission, or sad whenever he had failed. Or done something he wasn't proud of. You even knew his real name, but it was not common to call him like that.

But it thinking about it was not making things different. He was a busy man, and he should have an army of women behind him, there was no way he had the same feelings for you. You were just friends. That's it.

Minutes went by, and after drying your hair you went back to Hawk's room, it was about time to borrow those sweat pants. However, you got distracted when you saw the view from his room; the entire city shining at your feet. Your eyes went bright to at such beauty.

"What are you looking at?" A Keigo dressed in a tank top and grey sweatpants took you out of your thoughts.

"The city looks so pretty from here" you smiled "so many lights and colors. Don't you get distracted when you fly?"

"Yeah, sometimes when I'm just patrolling. Most times I don't even pay attention to it. To busy fighting the bad guys y'know" he laughed and stood next to you. ''It is not as bright as your smile, though'' Did he think his words? he didn't.

You felt your cheeks getting a bit red, what did he mean by that? He had it so clear. Since the day you walked into his office, he felt his blood rushing through his veins, the need to talk to you, to get to know you overwhelmed him. There was no way a jerk like him could get close to you. But it changed when you started working together, and it was as if two pieces of a puzzle finally found each other, working in perfect sync.

He looked back at you, a shy smile still plastered on his face. It isn't worth it to tell her how I feel, she must have a lot of guys waiting for her, Keigo thought. Or maybe he should risk it all, fuck it.

''Y/n? I-You'' He stopped ''You're the best sidekick I've had'' That was a compliment? You're an idiot, Hawks. He said to himself.

''Well, thank you. You make it easier though'' You gave him a sided smile as you left a strand of your hair behind your ear.

''Yeah, anytime'' Keigo smiled back at you.

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you. His golden eyes were stuck on yours as yours were on his. You could swear he was analyzing every detail of your face, and you couldn't help but make your eyes take a little trip on his facial traits too. Smiles vanished as both of you realized what was happening, yet no one wanted to talk about it. Or let it out. Finally, Keigo parted his lips to let out some words but he got interrupted by his phone ringing.

''Shit, sorry. Gotta take this one'' He apologized, turning away from you quickly in an attempt of hiding his blush. He hated whoever was calling.

In the meantime, you let out a sight. It was the first time he had been so close to you, so close it was possible to see the definition of his stubble, a stronger color in his eyes, details that daily were unnoticed. Maybe you were crazy and those were hallucinations.

Getting away from your thoughts, you got closer to the big window, resting your hands on it as you look down drawn by the lights. But you had no idea that the window was not closed. Keigo left it open when he got out the last time. And there you were. Everything happened in a split of a second, the big window opening, you feeling the weight of your body being pulled down by gravity, Keigo ending his call and turning back at you. His eyes went wide and his wings puffed immediately.

That was it? That was the end of your life as a hero and as a human being? All those years of intense training were vanishing in a second. What the hell could you do if you were free-falling?

But there was one detail you forgot. Hawks was there.

His reflexes worked on time when he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back in with the help of his wings to get the right amount of strength. He couldn't lose you, not before telling you everything he felt.

You ended up falling anyway, but not from the last floor of the building. You fell right on the floor, over the winged hero who had you secure in his arms. Keigo's wings hurt when he fell with his back on the floor, but you were fine. That's all he cared about.

''Shit kid, you good?'' He asked you, panic still present in his voice as he looked at you.

''Yes, damn that was so quick'' You let out a nervous laugh, and waited for a few seconds for him to set you free from his strong grip. ''Uhm, Hawks? You can-You can let me go now'' This time there was no nervousness from almost falling, they were because of the little distance that was between the two of you, the way his hands felt on your back and how his body felt against yours. Suddenly, his body started shivering lightly, and the following words just slipped out of his mouth.

''No, I can't. I really fucking can't... Ever'' He whispered that last word.

''What do you me-''

''Fuck it''

That was all you could hear before he slammed his lips on yours. It was a messy and shy kiss, but you felt even dizzier than when you were about to fall. He tasted like mint, and the way his stubble tickled your chin felt amazing. Your lips moved softly against him, in an attempt to calm him down.

''I like you. I fucking like you, y/n'' He said, eyes pleading for a positive answer ''I can't let you go cause I don't wanna be away from you. I just can't''

''Hawks...'' You whispered ''I-''

''Listen, you don't have to say it back. I know you must have lots of guys waiting for you, and better than me. With normal lives and-'' This time, you interrupted him crashing your lips with his one more time.

''I like you too, and there's no one else'' You said when your lips were still slightly touching ''You never leave my head, Hawks''

If someone were looking at that scene, they could notice the tension from miles away. And then they would ask, why do they keep wasting time? Hawks lifted his head to kiss you once more, this time eagerly. His hands found home on your hips as you softly rested your hands on his chest.

You felt your heart racing, it was the first time you found yourself in such a circumstance. It felt odd yet familiar, you didn't want it to stop. Daringly and as if it was an agreement the kiss turned into a heated one, his tongue caressing yours with need but with shyness.

''Call me Keigo'' He whispered as he sat on the floor, wings wide open.

You tangled your legs on his waist, feeling totally unsure about it. Was he comfortable? Was it like that? Those feelings and emotions you were experiencing, were normal? Thousands of questions roamed through your head as you continued kissing him. And then you felt it again, his hands shivering on your hips.

''You okay?'' You asked him tenderly, a hand caressing his cheek.

''Yeah, it's just...'' He looked away, hiding from your eyes. ''I've never...'' His golden eyes were looking at you again. Embarrassed, shy, and even scared. ''Damn, this must be so depressing'' Keigo scoffed, drifting his eyes away one more time. However, you felt a relief inside of you. And you couldn't help laughing a bit awkwardly.

''It's fine, I... I haven't either'' You shrugged your shoulders, his eyes lighted up looking up at you.

''Really?'' you nodded ''We can stop it here, though. I can go take another shower and-'' You shut him up again.

''I want you'' a whisper left your lips, sending shivers down his spine. You could feel now his hard crotch against you and your cheeks turned red.

''Are you sure you want me to be your first?'' Keigo's voice was almost unhearable, and you melt in tenderness when he caressed the back of your head with such affection.

''Are you sure?'' You laughed nervously.

''Totally'' His smile could brighten an entire city, and that night it was shining just for you. He moved a bit, creating friction between you and him. You let out a surprised yet pleasing whimper ''Shit, sorry''

''Don't worry, isn't that what is this all about?'' You laughed again.

''Yeah, you're right'' A kiss on your chin ''Come here''

He lifted you with ease so he could lay you down on his bed. And it was as comfortable as you thought it was. After a long struggle of getting rid of Keigo's shirt between laughs and jokes, he was kissing you tenderly and fiercely, feeling his own body shiver under your touch. You took the time to appreciate his body. It was not as muscular as other pro heroes, but his muscles were still well defined.

His lips on your neck feel like heaven, the way he kissed and lick your kiss had you wanting more, but the fear and the doubt were there too. And he could feel the exact same thing. Keigo's shaking hand move to the end of the shirt you were wearing. Once it was off, you tried to cover yourself. You were supposed to sleep in the guest's room that night, therefore wearing a bra after a long trip was not the best idea, but nothing said that you were going to be under Keigo's body.

He sat on his knees looking at you, jaw hanging low as he licked his lips.

''Shit, your gorgeous'' You heard him say as he crawled back to you again, kissing your mouth ''Can I touch you?'' His voice was still low, and even though he was trying to keep it cool the way his body was reacting was betraying him.

''Of course'' You said biting your lower lip.

His hand moved down until it reached your breast, cupping it delicately. He let out a sigh over your lips when he felt your hardening nipple against his palm. The slow squeezes were amazing. You were human, you had needs. You had done that before trying to stimuli yourself, but his touch was nothing compared to his. His was magical.

''I want to...'' Keigo said to himself as he lowered his face towards your chest. He licked your nipple and you moaned loud enough for him to hear it. He repeated his actions, kissing the underside of your breasts, sucking them tenderly, and trying to make you feel good. And God he was wishing he was doing it well. As he carried on with his not so shy ministrations, your hands touched his torso, feeling his warm skin on your hands. It was possible to feel his hard length pressing against your thighs, and surrendering to the temptation you played with the edge of his pants.

''Is it Ok if I-''

''Please do'' His voice came out a few octaves low as he went back to kiss your neck.

Carefully you slid one hand inside of his sweatpants, and he wasn't wearing underwear. How convenient. You gripped his hard cock on your hand, and your mouth went open in surprise. It was thick. And long. You gulped as you started moving your hand up and down, blushing when he bucked his hips.

''You can do it a bit tighter'' He said with a shy smile, and you did what he said ''Fuck, yes. Just like that''

The way his heavy breath was on your ear was working you up faster than you thought. And instinctively you moved your hips towards him as well. Keigo used one hand to get in between the two bodies, sliding his middle finger down your slit, trembling at how wet you were. It felt nothing like the porn videos he used to watch on the nights he needed some relief. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his finger on you, moving slow and even a bit fearfully.

In an attempt of digging your free hand on his back, it landed on one of his wings. They weren't as sharpened as you used to see them whenever he was fighting or patrolling, they were soft. You moved your hands through the feathers, but just when you did an erotic moan left his throat.

''Fuck don't do that, I won't last long if you touch my wings'' His voice was tight, making you knew that it was a sensitive area.

''Sorry'' You said, kissing his jaw ''They're just so soft'' The way you spoke in his ear sent shivers down his spine again, and as you kept stroking him he said in between breaths.

''I need you'' His voice was low but filled with excitement at the same time.

''Do you have a-'' Keigo finished for you.

''A condom, shit. Yes I do''

He suddenly remembered. Every single feeling was overwhelming him, it was the very first time he was in such a situation with a woman, and not with any woman. With you, the one who stole his breath from the very first time, the one that took care of his wounds, the one he tried to protect every day.

He stood up from the bed quickly, moving to the nightstand that was next to it. Nervously he looked among all the useful and useless things, and then he found them. Keigo remembered that night clearly, how one of his drunks friends at the party held in his apartment had told him to use them with some hot chick, but instead, he just kept them on the nightstand. To busy to do that while he was saving the world.

Going back to the bed he sat on his knees right in front of you. His chest was cleary moving up and down as he stared at you, and you could tell you were looking the same. Shy, exposed, uncertainty in your head, but confidence was in your head too. You trusted him with your life, and your feelings for him were strong. You just had to take that leap of faith. That free-falling.

''I will... Can I take them off?'' Keigo asked, looking at your still clothed sex.

''Yes'' you managed to say, feeling your face burn in embarrassment.

Carefully, he slipped the cotton piece down your legs, making you completely exposed to him. Your breathing became erratic, what was he going to think? Was it ok? But his eyes, his eyes were yelling his thoughts. They looked brighter, and the golden melted in them seemed shinier than never. Keigo licked his lips and swallowed at the image in front of him, and almost as a primal instinct he slid a finger on your wetness, making you and him moan.

''Fuck you're so wet'' He murmured, repeating his actions.

''Is that good?'' you asked timidly and a humming sound was made with your throat when he slid a finger along your cunt again.

''As far as I know, it is'' He laughed nervously. It was calming to know you weren't the only one feeling like that.

Your eyes went wide when he pulled his pants down, his cock sprang free from its confines, and just as you felt it when you stroke it earlier it was thick and long, not extremely big but it had a good size. And honestly a scary one for a first time. Even for him. With shaky hands Keigo opened the silver package, and after fast seconds he rolled the condom down his length.

''Ok,'' He took a deep breath, leaning close to you again. You moan when his erection rubbed your entrance, and you could feel your heart beating like crazy inside your chest. ''You sure about this?'' Keigo asked one last time.

''I am,'' You said ''But be gentle'' You said holding your breath for a short while.

''Sure thing'' He said above your lips ''I'm not less nervous than you are'' Keigo laughed, and the sound of it felt like peace among the sea of emotions you were at. ''I don't wanna screw this up'' Now he looked at you, eyes full with concern.

''It doesn't have to be perfect'' You reassured him, caressing his face, making him nod like an excited child who was trying to hide their emotion.

''I'm gonna do it'' A kiss on your lips ''Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, ok?''

After agreeing with his statement you looked at him getting on his knees again, pulling you closer to him. He spread your legs once he was in between them and with a shallow breath he grabbed his length, aligned it on your entrance. Softly he pushed his hips towards you, and a sharp pain made you close your eyes.

''Shit, are you good?'' Keigo stopped his motions immediately, not even thinking about the heat taking over his body.

''Yeah, you can go on'' You said clenching your jaw, adjusting to him.

He moved his hips a bit more, and a loud moan filled your ears. That felt a lot better than his hand. Keigo kept pushing slowly, hating the fact that he was hurting you. But it was supposed to stop, wasn't it? You moaned again, this time with a mix of pain and pleasure.

''Fuck your big'' You managed to say, closing your eyes again as he started to pull out slowly again.

''Sorry, not my fault'' He joked to lighten the mood. He bit his lower lips trying to oppress another moan. And without even pulling out completely he thrust inside you again, as slow as the first lunge. ''I... I need to move'' He said, closing his eyes with strength too.

You gave him a nod right after digging your fingers on his shoulders. Keigo's hips started moving again, a soft and steady pace as he was filing you up. He cursed at the feeling, so warm and so tight, he thought. It was hard to keep that steady pace with each thrust, but he waited. Waited until you felt comfortable enough.

The pain was becoming less by the second, at it was being replaced with pleasure. He felt so good, all of him. Not only the way he felt inside you, but the comfortable weight of his body on top of yours, his fresh scent after the shower, the praises he was whispering in your ear, all of that was bigger than the pain you felt with those first movements. And you loved it. It was with one specific thrust he hit the perfect spot, making you throw your head back and moan loudly, tangling your legs on his waist.

''More'' You said.

Maybe it was your instincts talking, but you didn't care. You wanted him, all of him.

Keigo's movements became sloppier, messier. He had never felt that way before, but it was amazing. And the truth was, that he wanted more as well. He moaned lowly, burying his face in your neck as he started pounding faster and deeper. You felt that tension building in your lower stomach, and when he twitched inside of you something tell you it was about to end.

''Fuck I'm close'' He said with a drowned voice.

''Do it, Keigo'' You caressed the back of his head while you whispered in his ear, the coldness of his earing feeling better than it should. How could a simple detail make you shiver?

Your hand traveled down his neck, to his back, and then to his wings. Another loud moan escaped his lips when your fingers dug in his feathers, playing softly with them. Lots of 'fucks' were leaving Keigo's mouth, and moans were leaving yours when he needly sped up.

And there it was. Something hit you, and it sent you right to the place where you could see the music and listen to the colors. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, bucked his hips towards him as you fell into a void of just pleasure.

Keigo bit your neck as a growl was made with his throat, his hips still moving a bit as he came undone. His sweaty forehead landed on yours, and he couldn't control the urge to kiss you deeply.

''You good?'' He asked when he ran out of breath.

''Never been better'' You said with a lazy smile on your face, making him chuckle.

''I lasted too little'' Keigo almost apologized, as if that was a bad thing. Once again you caressed his face, pulling him in for another kiss.

''It was perfect'' You whispered in between his lips.

''Was it?'' A tiny smile appeared on his face ''Stay tomorrow. Let's have lunch, like a proper date. What do ya' say, mhm?'' He said, using the tip of his nose to trace your cheek.

''It was'' You assured him. Eyes went wide in joy and surprise at his proposal ''You won't be able to get rid of me, then'' You lifted an eyebrow in an attempt of being cocky but laughing right after.

''Fine with me'' Now it was him the one who was smiling cockily. His lips were on your again, smiling between the kiss. ''I guess you're not staying in the guest's room tonight, right?'' He looked at you, using his arms to make you free from his weight. He pulled out, and the two of you moaned lowly again.

''I wouldn't even think about it, I've been wanting to cuddle with you for so long'' You admitted making him laugh.

''Well that makes two of us'' A kiss on your chin ''You'll get all the cuddles you want'' A kiss on the tip of your nose.

''But first, we gotta take another shower''

''Yes, this is so messy'' Keigo laughed and threw the preservative to the trash bin next to the bed.

''Keigo'' You called him out of nowhere, and he looked at you like a confused bird at such a sudden call. ''I like you. A lot'' A shy smile was on your lips. He smiled widely.

''I like you too. So, so much'' He whispered, and pulled you in for another tender kiss. Good things were to come.

[ushidoux]

Masterlist

Thanks for checking out my masterlist! It is mostly nsfw, sfw is designated accordingly (most sfw pieces will be at the oneshots section or in fluffy drabbles near the end of this post!) 

Friendly reminder that this is an 18+ blog!

If requests are open, you may request a fic, ask progress about a wip or suggest a character for ongoing series!

AO3 is infrequently updated: LazyPerfectionist.

If you’d like to support my writing, I also do commissions and have a ko-fi! 

Happy reading!! <3

Hesitant - Ushijima x Reader

After the Match - Ushijima x Reader

Someone Else’s - Sakusa x Reader x Ennoshita

Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader 

Bury the Dead, then Other Things - Matsukawa x Reader 

Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Oikawa x Reader  (sfw)

Lesson - Atsumu x Reader 

Eat - Osamu x Reader  (sfw)

All I Want For Christmas - Kuroo x Reader 

Similar - Osamu x Reader  (sfw)

Father Dearest - Takashi Utsui x Reader

Toshi’s Bunny - Ushijima x Reader

What We Inherit - Ushijima x Reader (sfw)

November Baby - Ushijima x Reader

What’s In a (Nick)Name? - Reon Ohira x Reader (sfw)

He, Hercules - Ushijima x Reader (sfw)

Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader

Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

CROSSOVER

Not Enough - Oikawa x Reader x Gojo (JJK) (sfw)

Series: Look at Me, Senpai - Hinata has had eyes for the captain’s girlfriend since high school and doesn’t hesitate to shoot his shot.  {Completed}

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 

Series: Be My Last - You have trouble moving on from a past relationship, and you’re afraid to break Iwaizumi’s heart. {Completed}

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Series: A Life Well Lived - Bokuto’s destined to die but an angel-in-training will protect him until then. Protect is not well-defined.  {Ongoing}

Part 1

Series: Restraint - The boys try to hold back... Sometimes they can, sometimes they can’t. ***  {Ongoing}

- Tetsuro Kuroo

- Oikawa Tooru

- Tobio Kageyama

- Satori Tendou

- Ushijima Wakatoshi

- Chikara Ennoshita

- Sawamura Daichi

- Koutaro Bokuto

Series: Menage a Trois - Three’s not always a crowd... {ONGOING}

- Oikawa Tooru & Hajime Iwaizumi

Series: Songscapes: Love and lust scenes to fit songs.  {ONGOING}

-  Luxury - Azealia Banks, Futakuchi x Reader  (sfw)

-  Que Malo - Bad Bunny feat Nengo Flow, Atsumu x Reader 

- Golden - Harry Styles, Hinata x Reader

- Hourglass - Catfish and the Bottlemen, Osamu x Reader 

-  Down - Ella Mai, Atsumu x Reader 

-  Sex Talk - Megan Thee Stallion, Iwaizumi x Reader 

-  Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood, Kyoutani x Reader 

-  Pu$$y Fairy - Jhene Aiko, Matsukawa x Reader

-  Stay With Me - Miki Matsubara, Tendou x Reader

-  Manga - Mayra Andrade, Oikawa x Reader

-  Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft. Sza, Ushijima x Reader

|| HEADCANONS ||

Haikyuu dads who just want to have sex in peace

Part 1: Ushijima, Daichi, Oikawa, Hinata, Kageyama

Part 2: Tendou, Matsukawa, Makki, Shirabu, Semi

|| THIRSTS & THIRSTY DRABBLES ||

- Iwa’s pomodoro technique

- Hinata + breeding

- Hinata + facefucking while recording

- Sakusa + comfort after a bad day

- Daichi + bruising your ass

- Ushijima’s hands

- Koganegawa’s hands

- Ushijima + lactation kink

- Hoshiumi + winning you over

- Goshiki + pity-fucking

- Gora + face sitting

- Hoshiumi + public sex

- Oikawa + some femdom

- Atsumu + your handprint on his ass

- Daichi + fingers down your throat, legs in the air

- Iwa + watching your couple porn with Oikawa

- Suna + degradation

- tell Oikawa he’s beautiful with your hands in his hair

- Kuroo + taking photos of you naked

- tagteamed by Oikawa and Hinata in Brazil

- Suga + bdsm

- sub!Ushijima

- Ushijima + toys

- Hinata + daddy kink

- Daichi + loving your voice

- Oikawa + more femdom

- Sakusa + bratty wife

- Akaashi + sexy cuddling

- Matsukawa + reassurance

- Suna + first kiss

- Oikawa + public sex

- Ushijima + blowjob

- Ushijima + inversion therapy

- Makki + wandering hands

- Ukai Jr + closing time sexy times

- Saeko + first meeting

- that time you suffered consequences for your entanglement with dilf!Iwa

Ask Game: Dirty Jenga from this reblogged post.

- Give a mouth and ice massage - Oikawa

- Talk dirty to them - Ushijima 

- Lick whipped cream off a body part - Bokuto

- Sit in someone’s lap - Kuroo

- Pinch someone’s butt - Sakusa

- Suck on someone’s fingers - Matsukawa

- Cop a feel - Tsukishima Kei

Minithirsts: You don’t know what you’ll get :)

- Oikawa

- Kuroo

- Bokuto

- Futakuchi

- Kageyama

- Kenma

- Sugawara

- Hinata

- Coach Nekomata

- Iwaizumi

- Sakusa

|| ANGST & ANGSTY DRABBLES ||

- love triangle with Oikawa

- missed soulmates with Ushijima

- "i have belonged to you in a way you haven't to me" - Iwa x Reader

- "It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse.” - Semi x Reader

- “Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it’s better to leave them broken than try to hurt yourself putting it back together.” - Sakusa x Reader

|| FLUFF & FLUFFY DRABBLES ||

- random Sakusa x reader  (sfw)

- very first christmas with Ushijima  (sfw)

- first date with Ushijima (sfw)

- Ushijima cooking for you on Sunday mornings (sfw)

- how Oikawa handles your insecurity (sfw)

- how you meet Aone (sfw)

- Matsukawa has a habit of humming (sfw)

- Kageyama apparently likes pda (sfw)

- on sleeping with your hq fav (sfw)

|| EVENTS ||

#valentine’s day event

recreating your first date + Arryhythmia + Tsukishima

firefighter AU + HeartBeat + Meian

stargazing date + HeartBeat + Tendou

revenge AU + HeartBreak + Ushijima

Whale watching + Arrhythmia + Oikawa

Enemies to Lovers + HeartBeat + Ushijima

Recreate your first date + HeartBeat + Kita

Childhood friends to lovers + HeartBeat + Mattsun

A bet + HeartBeat + Kenma

A kiss at midnight + HeartBreak + Oikawa

Firefighter AU + HeartBeat + Iwaizumi

A quiet night at home + HeartBeat + Sugawara

Accidental kiss + HeartBreak + Asahi

Biking + Arrhythmia + Ushijima

(Last edited: 5/14/2021)

[alicemitch09writes]

most unlikely

pairing: Miya Osamu x Reader

summary: There are things Osamu never fails to forget that come in perfect clarity – the smell of freshly cooked rice, the feel of a good serve to start a game, the satisfying taste of that pudding he’s been meaning to eat (and hidden safely from the slimy, prying hands of his brother), the sound of his twin brother’s snoring –

…eyes filled with tears – heartbreak, hurt, confusion, anger, and betrayal written all over.

A pained watery smile.

author’s notes: Oh my god, I finally finished this!!!!!!! I said this in one of my other, older fics, but here it is yet again: I was bullied as a kid and it did wonders on my self-esteem. To this day, I’m still very insecure with my looks even though I wear makeup and people say I have a great sense of fashion – I’d still feel anxious and ruined. That may be the bullying or my Imposter Syndrome, I also suffer from. Anyways, I was excited writing this because my bby love needs more attention compared to his foot of a brother. Part of this story was heavily inspired by a short from a literary portfolio from my university, except I added my special elements of angst (◕ω◕) hehe

The part of Osamu apologizing was from a scene from Bojack Horseman, where the concept of someone not being able to forgive you really struck me. Also, let this be a lesson: you can’t force someone to accept your apology, it’s their choice if they want to forgive you or not. Just live with the consequence.

Also, I kinda based reader off two people who are artists: one, a local Filipina whose aesthetics, artworks (mostly traditional/paper), and musical prowess I adore; and my little sister, who’s a gamer and does digital artworks. The musician part came from the former, including reader’s need to just draw and play music, while the gamer part was from my sister – before working her current job and doing commissions on the side, she wanted to work for a gaming company but was shut down by our parents (Asian problems, yanno), and she’s been sucked into games for as long as I can remember. Both these personalities are extremely awkward, especially my sister, so I drew off from that. I really love Game OSTs and remembered seeing the God of War behind the scenes, especially on the scores, and got inspired from that. Sooo, there.

Finally, for Osamu's best friend, you can find her in the later installments of this trilogy involving Suna and Atsumu. Soooo, stay tuned.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

There was a violin that played every 02:30 in one of the rooms just a floor down before Osamu's afternoon class started. 

The first time he heard it, he wasn't sure what or how to feel. All he knows was that there was music - beautiful, gentle music ebbing through the noise of the university.

Before he knew it, as he lost himself to the rise and fall of the song, it was over. People were entering the room, minutes had passed, and his class was about to start.

It was something he looked forward to.

A month had passed, since the start of the spring semester, and he had listened to the tune of the violin about a total of five times now. His Tuesday and Friday had the same schedules in the same room, and he had kept count.

He liked hearing it, but never got the chance to see who was playing it. By the time he'd go down and check if he had extra time, the song would be over, and the room was empty.

More often than naught, the songs played were always sad. But for some reason, from the way it was played, it didn’t seem like it.

For some reason, his heart seemed to ache with every pitch and crescendo.

There was just something comforting in the tune.

Comforting and relaxing.

One day, Osamu had received word that his teacher wouldn't be around and just told the class to do self-study. At that, he was already planning to head to the library to study (or nap) when he heard it: music. A violin.

Walking down the stairs, he held his breath as he approached the room. The door was closed, but not all the way. Osamu didn't enter though, looking only from the window of the door.

It was apparent that the room was empty, not a soul in sight.

Save for one.

A lone soul stood in the podium, form cast in the shadows as the sun's light receded from the opposite building. 

The music was sad, longing, and it seemed to float. Its melody was haunting, loud, clear.

Osamu watched for a while, realizing now that since he had been sitting by the window, and the person had the window opened, that he could hear it. Music this beautiful couldn't be heard in the hallway, not from the whole building.

Just as the music stopped, and the figure moved, his phone rang. Jumping, he hid to answer his phone, glaring at the caller ID. Sighing, he stepped away to answer the call, just as the person left the room, violin in hand, opposite from him.

Osamu's university wasn't big, it was known to have quality education and facilities to cater to their student's education. He also didn't have to move away from his hometown, unlike Atsumu, who immediately moved to Osaka the moment he caught the interest of MSBY Black Jackals who had an Inarizaki alumna.

University was a lot. There were a lot of new faces, new personalities, and new challenges before he was finally thrown into the harshness of reality as a fletching adult.

With all these people, it made Osamu wonder if any of them was the person playing.

Over lunch, as he ate with Ginjima, Akagi, and Oomimi (who luckily went to the same university), he spied a violin case from a few tables down. 

Munching his lunch, he was probably staring too long, droning out Ginjima gushing about his girlfriend, before the violin case was lifted off by its owner - a flashily-dressed guy with a dreadful haircut.

Offed, he swallowed and reached for his drink.

Later day that, while he was heading up to his classroom, he noticed that the room - where he heard the music and saw the person playing - open. Curious, he peeked in, seeing only empty chairs, tables, and an open window. Next to the window though was a violin case.

By the looks of it, it was made out of leather, its color was dark but had splotches of color in it - probably stickers. Just before he walked in, he stopped and realized that he had class. Chancing one last look in, eyes searching, he climbs up the steps and into his room.

Another time, Osamu was at the ‘Lost and Found’ to retrieve something, the receptionist set off to search for his item. And so he waited.

A girl came rushing in, asking if they’ve seen a violin case.

The receptionist picked an item from one of the cubbies, showing it to her.

“Yes, that!”

Osamu's eyes widened, familiarization fell on to him at the familiar leather violin case, with stickers on them. “My, you should be careful with that. Violins are expensive, you know!”

“I know! It’s just that I haven’t been using it much as of late, but my senpai does. She still can't afford her own just yet.”

Osamu couldn't help but listen in, especially at the mention of the said violin and its player.

“Lately, she’s been practicing like crazy, probably because of exams coming up.”

Not meaning to eavesdrop, Osamu was thankful for the information that came his way. He would’ve wanted to ask for this senpai’s name, but that would be creepy of him now wouldn’t it?

Instead, he thankfully retrieved his cap - a ratty old thing, his dad bought for him years back, and put it on.

At least there’s one piece of the puzzle solved.

First, it was a borrowed violin.

Second, it was a girl who played the violin every 02:45 pm.

But he wonders now why he's the only one to appreciate it.

And then he heard it again. Music.

It was close.

For some reason, his heart fluttered at the tune. Quickening his pace, he followed the sound.

It was getting close, just as the music intensified – a rush, a beat.

Climaxing, he pulled the door open, hearing the music before finding the girl.

There she was, standing in the podium, eyes closed with a violin propped on her chin, fixated on the song.

How long he stayed there, he didn’t know.

He just drank her in, the music, the scenery, the girl.

But wait.

This wasn’t just any girl.

Just as the music stopped, a sigh leaving her lips, her eyes opened.

(E/c) eyes.

He lost his footing.

Something in him started.

Memories resurfacing.

His mind muddled at the memory, coming to a slow clarity.

In his mind, everything was black and white.

Osamu remembered that they were in elementary school then, could vaguely remember that his twin put him up for it. And a girl.

There was a girl.

She was crying.

Because of him.

She looked up with a pained watery smile on her face.

In his mind, he could remember it all in perfect clarity. But for some reason, it was all in black and white.

But he never forgot.

That pained watery smile haunted him for years.

But her eyes, he forgot what color they were.

There are things Osamu never fails to forget that come in perfect clarity – the smell of freshly cooked rice, the feel of a good serve to start the game, the satisfying taste of that pudding he’s been meaning to eat (and hidden safely from the slimy, prying hands of his brother), the sound of his twin brother’s snoring –

…(e/c) filled with tears – heartbreak, hurt, confusion, anger, and dread written all over.

A pained watery smile.

“(L-L/N)…?”

Startled, the girl looks up at him, the same (e/c) eyes that haunt him widen, bringing the violin close to her chest, taking a step back.

It was her.

But older.

Much older than he remembered.

The light from behind her painted her in soft glows, painting her in soft hues.

His chest felt tight, as though he had swallowed cotton. 

Pained watery smile.

Her soft, garbled, shaky voice.

A beat.

And then she ran off, violin in hand.

His legs moved before he could help himself, giving chase, much to both their shock.

"(L/N), wait!"

Panicked, she hugged her instrument tighter as she ran faster, legs smaller compared to his. He was larger and proven to be more athletically built, thanks to his years of volleyball, but she was smaller, nimbler.

Rushing into a corner, she took one, then two then skipped at the last steps. Landing, she dared to look back, finding Osamu still hot on her heels. 

Not wasting another second, she made a quick dash and was just about to round into a corner only to find the fire exit door open. She rushed straight in, back pressed against the wall, and held her breath.

The wind brushed her cheeks, sweeping smells of cigarettes from people who frequented the area. Quickly, she put her hand on her mouth, covering her nose.

And then came footfalls.

She squeaked against her hand, holding her breath, heart-pounding still from the chase.

"(L/N)?" came Osamu's searching voice, panting. "(L/N)?" he tried again, sounding closer and closer.

"Young man!" a voice sounded off in the hallway. "No running in the halls!"

Sputtering, she heard Osamu let out an apology. Angrily, the professor berated the young man, who was in the middle of a department meaning. 

Quietly sighing, she dropped her hand to her sides. And from the corner of her eye, she caught a staircase leading up to the next floor, its door was open, too. Making use of the opportunity, she climbed up the steps to the next floor, rushed to the room she was previously in, packed her things, and left.

Even after quitting volleyball, there just some habits that were hard to break. For all his life, Osamu had been insecure about being slightly bigger than his twin. He had more baby fat and was more prone to getting bigger.

One thing’s for sure though – he now knows the mysterious violin player, it was (Y/N) (L/N).

She was someone he hadn’t thought about for years.

Honestly, it was frightening to be in the presence of someone you never thought you'd see again, someone who meant something to you.

Feeling his legs burn, Osamu pushed himself to run faster, harder, feeling the blood pump into his veins.

(e/c) eyes.

He could see them still.

(e/c) eyes widening, filling with fear, anger, betrayal, acceptance, then sadness. And tears.

(e/c) eyes were overflowing with tears.

After getting an earful from one of the professors, Osamu, ever so carefully, went back to the room, in high hopes to find (L/N), only to find out that she was gone.

The rest of the day, he was on the look out for her. He was wary of (h/c) hair, (face shape) face, (e/c) eyes, (s/c) skin. But got nothing.

And was a Friday to boot!

Plus, there was a Federal holiday so classes wouldn't resume until Tuesday.

He's in terrible luck.

Coming to a stop, he placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He can't remember the last time he ran this hard without it having to be a competition against his twin.

Exhaling through his mouth, he could feel the sweat slipping off his skin, his face - he's been running for a while now.

Running usually helps him clear his head, especially when he's stressed. Except, he had pushed himself too hard. But he can't help it.

Before he even decided on his run, (e/c) eyes were plaguing him. As it had always been.

When he first met her, both of them were in elementary school. She sat in front of him, always kept her head down, and didn't speak unless spoken to.

It was lunchtime if he remembered, and he was hungry. Atsumu and he ate in their classroom, together with the other kids. He had already finished his bento, feeling a bit sad because he wanted more. His twin laughed at his demise before running off to the toilet.

Shyly, she gave him an onigiri, one she made herself, as she told him in a quiet voice.

Every lunch, without fail, she’d give an onigiri to him and he’d happily accept them.

Thing was, Atsumu found out about the onigiri and demanded her to give him some, too.

“You like ‘Samu, doncha?” it was a rather innocuous question, but it was the start of it all.

A few kids caught on, followed by a few jealous, mean girls. Then came the teasing. Then came the bullying.

It was relentless, it was unforgiving. But they were kids, what did they know? Nothing.

And what did Osamu do? He just watched.

“She’s so plain though!” 

“Osamu’s-not-girlfriend!”

"You're ugly-looking!"

"Hey, why are your eyes like that?"

"Why do you look different from us?"

"She's a weirdo!"

"Poor Osamu-kun."

Osamu regretted it, so much. Not being able to say anything, brushing it off like it was nothing. Because he actually grew to like (L/N), her and her quiet nature, the way her (e/c) eyes would be filled with joy. 

But he was a kid. A stupid, stupid kid.

And little boys didn't particularly like being associated with some girl.

One day, her so-called friends told the whole class how much she daydreamed of the two of them growing old together, how much of a weirdo she was with her video games, imagining Osamu to be the prince to save her. It was humiliating.

Annoyed with it all, especially those girls' prissy voices, he raised his voice. "SHUT UP ALREADY!"

His loud voice shook everyone, staring at the usually quiet Miya with wide eyes, at the animosity and anger in his tone.

“Stop associating her with me already!” He said, pissed, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Shakily, the mean girls - her so-called friends, took a step back, cowering in fear. Not one of them approached their friend, who was at the epicenter of it all, the cause of it all.

“And you,” he turned to (L/N), annoyed. “Stop annoying me. Stay away from me.”

Even Atsumu was shocked by his brother's outrage, used to him so calm and quiet.

The room was silent, everyone watching the two.

And then, heartbreak, pain, and sadness filled her eyes, her face, (L/N) broke into a watery smile. “Y-You really don't like me, Osamu-kun, huh?”

Bowing low, she turned and took off.

Winter break was cold and harsh, unforgiving, he wished he could bury himself in it.

After winter break, class resumed, and (L/N) was gone. Transferred. And Osamu was never the same again.

He felt so empty, so hollow by her leave. And angry.

Only, he never let the anger show, he just kept it in.

He wanted to hit his twin so bad, for starting it all, to break something to let everyone know, but couldn't. Wouldn't, anyway. It just wasn't worth it.

He played harder than before, jumping higher, adding more power to his spikes and serves, run faster, practically bleeding through to appease for his sins.

And every time he thought of onigiri, his first thought was her.

And now here she was, years later at the same university in Hyougo, what were the chances?!

But immediately, at the sight of him, she bolted.

His annoying twin’s annoying as fuck laugh sounding off from the phone and echoed out to his dorm walls, so he hung up. He called his childhood friend, who he met a year after she left and was his manager back in high school, retelling what he had told his brother. There was no laughter from her end, just silence, comforting silence.

"So, you bolted after her?"

Those were his brother's exact words, except she didn't burst out laughing, she was asking, in all seriousness, point-blank, concerned.

"Yeah."

"Osamu," there's a shifting noise, of papers being set aside, Osamu knows that she's paying attention. "that sucks."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Tell me about it,"

She let out a short breath, a laugh, somebody else's joins in. "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Remembering the look in her eyes, reflecting the exact look from long ago, he could only sigh once more. "I honestly dunno."

"Well, good luck then."

Shouldering the door open, Osamu was grumbling about something to his twin on the phone, welcoming the heavily scented café filling his nose, bent on getting his coffee fix even at a godly costly store when his eyes caught on (h/c).

She was sitting by the corner, framed hunched as she busied herself with a sketchpad in front of her.

He carefully walked up close before he knew it, dropping Atsumu’s call without care, drawn to her.

A sketchbook was set on the table she was sitting on, a tall iced coffee sat next to her phone, fingers rushing, and deftly working about. A violin case – the borrowed violin – was perched on the seat across her, as though she were saving it for a companion.

With her earphones plugged in, it was easy to drown out everything else and immerse herself in her work. She was so lost in her work, or the music (he couldn’t tell) that she hadn’t notice Osamu standing next to her, peering over her shoulder into her sketches.

To his amusement, she had sketched the scene out the window – from the dilapidated signages, tangles of electric wires, the yawning trees, the nearly vacant street, someone's bike was parked next to an alleyway right beside a motorcycle. It was pretty detailed.

Her brows were scrunched together, losing herself into the shading that matched the exact mood outside. She was talented, amazingly talented.

Noticing strange lighting on her sketchpad, obstructing her focus and work, she looked over her shoulder and nearly jumped at the sight of Osamu behind her.

“A-Ah, sorry-“ she moves, as though she were about to bolt again, only to stop.

Then she frowns, setting her sketchpad down and refocuses her attention to her work, pretending he wasn’t there. Osamu swallows, steeling his nerves.

“(L/N)?” She ignores him, reaching adding more force to her shading.

(L/N) sighs and looks up, setting her sketchpad down, options weighing as she stares at him.

“Can I help you?” Her tone was icy, shaky, (e/c) eyes hard and guarded.

He swallowed, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Um-“

“Senpai?” a girl appeared, staring at the two strangely. It was the same girl he met at the Lost and Found, the owner of the violin. “Is everything alright?” turning to Osamu, she stares, as though sizing him up. “Is he bothering you?”

Compared to his twin, Osamu could read the mood. He wasn’t insensitive, as well. Too bad it took him a while to learn that.

“Sorry, I was just leaving.” He tells her, giving a slight bow to (L/N). “Sorry for bothering you.”

Briskly heading towards the door, completely forgetting his need for coffee (expensive one be damned), he nearly lost his footing when he turned, not missing those (e/c) eyes locked on him.

It was worst than remembering the filled with tears and heartbreak.

Osamu once happened upon her, napping in the library during midterms, an earphone in one ear, the other had fallen off. Music loudly playing off it. Curious, he picked up an earphone and put it against his ear, soft melodic beats followed by a gentle, haunting voice. It was an interesting choice of music.

Gently putting the earphone down, he notices the mess on her desk - opened notebooks and textbooks, scattered highlighters and pens, a water flash bottle. But interestingly enough, were doodles on some of her notes, next to comically angry-looking words next to them - such as 'reminders' and 'take note!'.

His notes were nowhere as meticulous and colorful as hers. Speaking of notes, just the sight of such meticulousness reminded him of his best friend, she would have probably got along with her.

He took a step back, realizing how creepy was being. Not wanting another awkward encounter from the coffee shop, he turned to leave, planning to leave her as he had found her, only to hear her stir. He quickened his steps.

“Miya Osamu…?”

Shit.

"Sorry, I was just leaving."

Coward,  he thought to himself. You’re a fucking coward.

Stopping, he grounds himself, turning around to meet her gaze. “Actually, (L/N) can we talk?”

She made a noncommittal noise, fresh from her impromptu nap and his sudden appearance, and probably from the seriousness in his voice.

“I’d rather we don’t, actually.” Her tone hardened on the last word, mockingly.

Swallowing, he tried again. “Please.” His shaky voice surprised them both – him, at just how bad and scared it was to talk to her; and her, by just how desperate he sounded. “Please, (L/N). Give me a chance.”

The look on her face falls, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Conflict crosses her face, eyes tightening before it settles on icy determination. "I'd rather you leave me alone, Miya."

It's one thing to have your childhood crush hate you after meeting her years later, it's another if they last name you.

Before he could say another word, she speaks up, eyes focusing on her noters. "Please don't come near me again. Thank you very much."

Late at night, he was mindlessly scrolling through social media, rolling his eyes at his brother’s latest antics or Suna’s rather provocative selfie with his girlfriend (who knew he had it in him), when a classmate from way back, who happened to go the same elementary with the twins, shared an old class photo he found.

There he was – 7-year-old him standing next to his twin, sporting smiles of their own (his a lazy-sleepy one, his brother’s a lazy-smug one). They were the tallest ones in their class. ‘Abnormally tall’ as his best friend would put it.

A faint smile found its way on his lips, remembering that a year after this photo was taken she would move to Hyogo and befriend the twins.

A bunch of nameless others fell in line with the twins, a few he recognized from high school, a few he hadn’t heard of since, a few whose name he forgot entirely. Some of the snotty girls came up, but he recalled one of them getting knocked up and the other went to another school for high school.

And then his eyes fell on someone.

(L/N) (Y/N).

A bright, shy smile on her little face.

Holding his breath, Osamu tapped the photo twice, her small face filled his screen.

There’ve been changes through the years, physically speaking. But she was still the same shy girl he remembered. She was the kindest person he knew, the quietest as well.

Except the (L/N) he knew now clearly harbored anger towards him. And he can’t blame her. He was the reason that the little girl in the photo didn’t smile as bright as she used to. He was the reason why her eyes didn’t have as much life as they used to.

It may have been years ago, but whatever happened in your early childhood could have everlasting effects on your emotions and relationship.

He thought that after finding out that she was the violin player in Room 403, she'd have taken her sessions elsewhere.

Well, he was wrong, seeing as he was standing outside the door, looking in, watching her push and pull at the bow, fingers shifting string to string, a concentrated look on her face with her eyes shut close.

Rich melody played off, with an almost haunting nostalgia to them.

When she was done playing, a sigh leaving her mouth, she was just about to put away her violin, Osamu deciding to leave when he slips on absolutely nothing. In a fit of panic, he grabs hold of the doorknob, shoving the door open and revealing him to (L/N), who jumps at the intrusion. They stare at each other, saying nothing.

Shit, Osamu thinks to himself. Smooth, asshole.

Her eyes, those beautiful (e/c) eyes were staring back at him.

Once more, she was painted in golden stripes of the afternoon, making his insides warm and funny.

And suddenly, the spell was broken.

A frown mars her face, almost violently fixing the borrowed violin in its case with quick haste.

Clearing his throat, he gets up on his feet, walking deeper into the room. “Listen, um," he flinches when she slams the violin case shut, noticing her eyes widening momentarily. "can we…can we talk?”

“I’d rather not,” she replies quickly, (e/c) eyes dark.

He feels sick, seeing those watery (e/c) eyes again.

"(L/N), please."

"For what?" she practically hisses. "What could you possibly say after all these years?”

“I…see,” his voice lowers, shoulders sagging. No point forcing her.

Sighing, he raised his head, eyes meeting hers. “Okay, but please just listen. Just listen and I swear," he swallowed the nervousness, especially when those eyes were on him. "I swear that's it." Clearing his throat, he forced to stable his voice, meeting those eyes head on. "I just want to say…(L/N), I’m sorry. For what I did to you…” her pained watery smile flashes before his eyes, dampening his already sour mood with himself. “It may be forever ago, but I still remember, (L/N).” he keeps his stare on her, feeling his heart pounding, but he kept going for fear of letting his words run out.

“And I’ve hated myself for it every day. I tried so hard to lead a life of kindness, for your sake. Ah, I’m making excuses. But…I…I didn’t mean for those words. I never hated you. I’m sorry you thought you were a hindrance. I’m sorry if I inflicted any sort of insecurity in you.”

Breaking into a wry laugh, realizing he’s been rambling for too long now, his head bows to the ground, eyes falling shut. Steeling himself, he puts in his final say. “I understand if you can’t forgive me, and I’m okay with that. It’s your say, after all.”

Offering a deep bow, if he could, he’d go lower or kowtow even, “I’m sorry, again, (L/N).” Lifting himself, he puts on a smile for her, one from the heart. “L-Later,” his voice wavered, his heart sank, but his smile remained.

Turning on his heel, he feels something inside him die.

He was supposed to feel relieved, which he was, but other than that? Nothing.

Wait, he knew what it was - remorse.

He probably deserved it.

He’ll live with the brand of hurting an innocent girl’s heart for the rest of his life, but at least he can live with that fact and better himself.

There’s an underlying pain in his heart, creating a hole, but he continues to walk on.

Ah, shit. He feels his eyes well up. Squeezing them shut, he pulled his head back, willing to hold them in. Hold them in until he was somewhere safe, far-

“Wait!”

Small fingers wrapped around his wrist, he turned back in surprise, managing to keep his tears in, meeting (e/c).

Words failed him, as though his throat was filled with cotton.

She swallowed thickly.

Then, she quickly let go of his wrist, as though it burned her.

Clearing her throat, her (e/c) eyes met his again.

He turned fully, waiting in bated breath.

“You’re right, I don’t forgive you.”

Something inside him shatters, destroys a million pieces. It would be great if the ground swallowed him whole, thank you very plenty.

“But,” his head lifts up in a snap. “you can make it up to me.”

“Anything,” he says almost immediately, desperately.

Stunned by his eagerness, she falters slightly, shifting foot to foot, still holding to her things. “T-There’s a concert for a cause that my college is doing. At the mini-theater. Come watch us.” The whole time, she had her eyes on his, never breaking away despite the shakiness in her voice. “...I-If you want,” she adds, almost carefully.

“I’ll be there.”

She blinks, as though she hadn't expected him to say yes.

“There’s an entrance fee.”

"I'll be there," he repeats, mind going to his bank account. It's okay, he has more than enough.

The corners of her lips twitched, a smile threatening to appear, turning just slightly, but the look in her eyes didn't look at though as dull as before. There was light and shine to it.

And damn it, did he want to see it at its brightest.

Now, Osamu knew little to nothing about music - knew only that Top 10 music playing from the radio or from that one music app his best friend suggested he download. Anything other than that? Nothing.

However, in order to get on (Y/N)'s good side, he was willing to partake in an evening of musical wonder.

True to its name, the theater was little, but enough to house about a hundred people - like two classes. In fact, the place seemed like it was for theater students. If he's not mistaken, there were two theaters - this one, and a grand one, which was a few blocks from their school.

Almost everyone who came were either friends or classmates. Interestingly enough, he found that Ginjima had been invited, too.

The two find a seat in the middle aisle, just close enough to the end so they can make a quick exit - the two had huge bodies, mind you.

It took about a few minutes before everybody was settled in their seats, the organizers made a small speech thanking everyone for supporting their cause, saying that snacks would be available after the event, and to enjoy. 

Starting the event were a series of classical covers of famous songs. He swore one of them was from a Disney movie, which was later confirmed by Ginjima. ("Isn't this from 'Beauty and the Beast'?") He had seen (Y/N) a couple of times, playing with a group, sometimes as an accompaniment to someone playing the piano, but never solo.

A shame, since she played well. At least according to him.

Overall, it was a rather entertaining time, full of nostalgia with the music they were playing, and peaceful, with the help of their talents.

Just before they ended, (Y/N) appears on stage, walking stiffly. She wore a small smile, bowed slightly.

Then, she tucks her violin under her chin, eyes falling to the rest of the band. When everyone seemed settled in, she nods and plays.

It starts with quiet chimes from a xylophone, like a call of winter. Slowly rising and rising, as though a tale was about to be told.

Then came her violin - the narrator, joined by a few others.

The melody was lovely, strangely nostalgic, harmonious, evoking so much in him that he felt chills run down his spine.

Despite having to play with a band, it was clear just who was the real star of the show, who was telling the story. Who they should listen to.

Seeing someone play in person clearly was much more different than hearing them, as Osamu can see herself really pour her heart into her music, as though resonating with everyone in the room, sent straight to their heartstrings.

(Y/N) played with much precision, highlighted during her solo, picking up with every volume, demanding in a gentle way - if that even made sense. The band's playing rose to drown her out, yet her melody was unceasing, cutting through to make herself heard.

It's as though she was leading the band, guiding them.

By the end of the song, her expression seemed to shift, playing softer and quieter than earlier - like a lullaby.

Drawing out the last note, she gently lowered her violin and gives an almost cursory bow before skittling off the stage.

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause.

Ginjima was clapping wildly beside him, Osamu was clapping, too, except his were softer, eyes stuck staring with a dazed look at the stage where a violinist once stood.

The whole time she had played, it felt like...almost like...they were in Room 503.

Just them.

No audience.

Them.

Her.

Him.

And it felt like that song was just for him. 

After the concert, Osamu works up the courage to get to know (Y/N) better, to befriend her - properly befriend her.

A part of him was forever tormented by those sad, watery (e/c) eyes he failed to protect so many years ago.

Getting her to properly see him as he was proved to be a struggle, seeing how she'd jump every time they'd meet. Her friend, that tiny girl he met at the cafe, was keenly wary of him, always standing before (Y/N) when they met. Yet, they came to an understanding not long after. Osamu honestly couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, the best he could do was be patient with her.

It took time, but he was okay with it, wanting only for her to get comfortable with having him around.

She was an all-around artist, he found.

Not only could she play music, but she could also sketch, paint, do photography, and a little bit of videography.

To his amusement, she was a gamer. He did recall the many conversations he had with her about Pokemon, Final Fantasy, or even Yu-Gi-Oh when they were younger. If she wasn't busy playing or creating, she was off playing until the wee hours of the day.

An avid fan of Kodzuken - that one setter from Nekoma, if he recalled, like his brother, had piss-yellow dyed hair. Almost all of the pieces she played were classical renditions from video games.

Even much more to his amusement was when he found out that she wanted to play music for video games. Scores, as they were called.

When she discovered that, yes, you can play music for video games, she was over the moon.

With all her amazing talents, she was painfully shy and awkward. That much was evident during the concert from a while back. Whenever he would spot her at a cafe or in the cafeteria, she seemed recluse, sticking her nose into her game console, ears plugged in. 

Osamu hated how it was his fault she enjoyed being alone rather than being with people, he caused that.

She was wary of people, needing to cling to her closest friend just to feel safe.

And if she had no classes, she was either at the library, practicing her violin (if her junior allowed it), or at home, playing.

He destroyed her to the point that she seemed scared of her own shell, to distrust anyone around her. Shit, he was probably shittier than his twin.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and prove himself, though.

He was going to live a life of kindness after all.

Osamu walked with purpose, taking long strides along the hall dark eyes checking the room numbers.

Right after his exams ended he asked Kabumoto - the tiny junior of hers, where he could find (Y/N). When asked why, he replied with, "Do I need a reason?"

To which she replied, quite sassily. "And what's your reason?"

Osamu, exasperated as he was fresh from a big exam, replied. "I...just," Kabumoto raised her pierced brow. "can't I want to see my friend?"

Her eyes narrowed, especially at his choice of words. He was well over six feet, he could kick her then and there. But no, he was a gentleman, his parents, grandmother, and best friend would kill him if he as much as harm this tiny person before him. 

She continued to stare him down, the wait was killing him.

Eventually, she says. "Music Hall." And nothing else.

She didn't say exactly where (Y/N) was, only that she probably in one of the rooms of this intimidatingly large building. That tiny minx.

Wow, he underestimated the size of his university, it seems.

Instead of barging into the rooms one by one, he made an educated guess that she was probably practicing music, so maybe one of the practice rooms.

She probably knows all about him and his history with (Y/N). Which honestly, he could forgive her for. He wasn't exactly kind to her then, but he's trying his damnest to right his wrongs damn it! He can understand if she was being a protective friend, heck he was the same years back.

Reaching the second floor, where most of the practice rooms were found, Osamu heaved a sigh. Thankfully, they had 

Just then, he heard it.

Walking back, leaning his head a bit so his ears could listen before changing direction. He followed the sound, the soft thrum of the piano brushing through the wind. Nearing the room, he peeked a little in, finding himself in a trance before walking in, soundlessly.

It felt like he had entered another world, one where everything was attuned to the riff of the piano, where everything was painted in pastel.

And right there, sitting by the piano was a girl, eyes closed as she let her fingers dance along with the keys with practiced ease, letting the music echo throughout the room.

Music, he realized, was her safe haven.

Her solace, her peace of mind, her safety net, her everything.

It made sense why she chose to pursue it professionally, why she was so passionate about it.

"No way, you play the piano, too?" Osamu greeted, making his presence known.

She jumped in her seat, turning to him, red in the face.

"U-Um, a little..." She mumbles.

How adorable, he thought walking further in. He wears a smile on his face as he approaches, taking in the smooth instrument before him.

"You continue to impress me, (L/N)."

She laughs, almost in a self-deprecating way. "Believe me, I'm not that impressive." Absentmindedly, she presses on a random key, letting its sound echo out.

"And believe me," he plops himself next to her on the piano bench, smile still in place. "you are."

He was close, too close. Up close, she could see his eyes - dark, smoldering, his cheeks, cheekbones, strong and defined jawline.

Realizing she'd been staring too hard, she shakes her head and drops her gaze. "H-How were your classes?"

Although disheartened, seeing her flush made him smile. "Exhaustin', but all in a day's work."

"Um, how did you find me?"

Scratching the back of his ear, he replied. "Heard you playing. Seems like you're the only one playing."

Her expression pinches at that, turning to the door. "Maybe I forgot to lock."

"Don't worry, there doesn't seem to be anyone around."

She harrumphed at that. "You underestimate us, music students then!"

"Aren't you an art major?"

"A-Ah, still part of art!"

He laughs at her, she was so adorable it made his heart hurt. They were silent for several minutes, Osamu watching her while she watched her fingers.

"B-By the way, Miya-kun," she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. "I hear your brother's playing professionally now?"

"Yeah, he is. How do you know about that?"

"I hear about him every now and then,"

"Does that include me?" It was a hopeful question, partly smug.

"Um...no." She confesses. "I don't really pay attention to sports until I got into university."

"Ah, I see then." For some reason, that sucked. He wanted to brag a little about his career, guess it doesn't matter now.

"If...if I may ask," he turns to her, curiously. "why didn't you go with him?"

He blinks. Ah, the ever hot question thrown at him. 

"As much as I loved the sport, it doesn't hold a candle to 'Tsumu's. He just loved it way more. In addition," his eyes fall on the smooth ivory keys, a wistful smile on his lips. "we just had different dreams."

"You're your own person after all," she softly tells him, a faint smile on her lips.

From wistful to grateful.

"Do you miss him?"

He almost groans, snorts instead. "I do. Just, don't tell him that." Atsumu may be the clingier twin, despite being older by 5 minutes, but compared to him, Osamu is, too, to some sort of degree.

"I...I don't have good memories of your brother," she confesses, almost shyly, finger circling over a key. "The one memory that sticks to me was when your brother made fun of my feelings for you and you just watched."

"Yeah, well..." hunching over, he props his elbows on the edge of the piano, careful to not touch the keys. "not my finest moment."

A heavy silence falls between the two.

"I guess it kinda explains why, when my best friend got her heart ripped out by my shitty twin, that I decided to be there for her. In a way, it's like some sorta atonement for what I couldn't do for you."

His best friend was one of the strongest persons he knew, responsible, smart, and independent to a fault. However, extreme independence can be a result of trauma. He's paid witness to said trauma first hand, remembering just how much she had quivered when it came to matters of the heart. She pulled herself through, but not by herself. She had help - her family, supportive senpais, and friends. He was wondering if he contributed.

"You're a good friend, Miya-kun." 

Miya-kun.

What he wouldn't give just for her to call him by his name.

Sighing, he leaned his head down to her shoulder. She flinched at that, but he didn't seem to notice, eyes falling shut.

“Hey, (Y/N)…" came his deep voice, soft and quiet, his breath tickling her skin. "play something for me?”

Clearing her throat, trying very hard to fight the blush off her face, she began to play.

He watched her fingers dance through the keys, gentle with each press, careful as though kissing the ivory keys as they playfully turned key to key. 

Osamu half-turned to look up at her, her music pouring into the room like a warm breeze - a poignant, pleasant, and gentle melody.

Whenever she plays, she always looks as though she was a different being, another person.

She played music with her heart on the line, pouring everything into it - creating his beatified image of her he loves to see.

“You look pretty when you play.”

You know what's weird? Seeing your first love (first crush counts, shut up) for the first time after so long, only to find that he's gotten taller, built like a brick, a sense of humor, and more handsome! How unfair was that?

No, that's not the worst part. 

The worst part? Him wanting to rekindle the friendship between you.

No, no, that's not the worst of it all!

The worst of it? Having certain feelings from long ago come back, stronger than before. That was the worst part.

Especially because Miya Osamu was such a genuinely kind, patient, and amazing person. It was impossible not to like him. One would be blind to see it. Not even gays could resist him - her junior was gay, but said seeing him questioned her sexuality. He was that amazing of a person.

And she hated it.

It was so unfair.

Why did her feelings have to grow back, after all this time?

Sure, they were friends now, but it ate her every time Osamu would smile at her, would do little things to make sure that she was comfortable, or text her to know if she made it home safe. Her poor heart couldn't handle it all.

There was no choice but to do the right thing: confess. Brewing your feelings for so long can be so damaging in the long run, she was not doing that.

Unable to handle rejection the second time around, she set off on a mission.

And this time, she was prepared!

She planned to confess – again, yes – but this time, again, she was in charge of how things will play!

First, she thought that it was best to confess to him on a weekend, a long weekend at that! – to avoid him for a couple of days while she wallows in her misery (again). Next, she had bought some snacks and a tub of ice cream, to at least alleviate the sting of rejection. Finally, she had the latest game – that she had long pre-ordered, mind you – ready to play. It was a role-playing game from a series she’s loved for a while now, and playing it always made her happy and wonder at the story and characters. Plus, the score was amazing. Also, it’s no secret that it’s easy to lose yourself in the gameplay even with a broken heart.

With her plan ready, she was prepared to set things into motion.

And so, after a long day, she and Osamu walked down the quiet streets to their respective dorms. The tall boy was talking about heading home to Hyogo for Golden Week.

When finally, they reached their intersection, she says, “Miya-kun, I like you!”

Osamu just stared at her, blankly.

His silence stretched on, speaking for itself.

“…ah, okay.” Then he turned and walked off.

(L/N) stood there, dumbly.

Knees weak, she rushed to her apartment, face wet from having cried all the way home.

Well, there’s her response. Rejected. Again.

Throughout Golden Week, she spent her time playing video games, snacking on junk food that tasted a little salty thanks to her tears. She finished the game in a span of 3 days – including all the side quests, okay? – and felt a little lighter after the whole ordeal.

Flopping back into her bed, she watched the end credits blankly, uncaring of the grease in her hair nor the messy pseudo trash can on the foot of her bed.

“Ah, it’s over-“suddenly, the credits were done and something popped up on her screen, immediately, she sat up. “OH SHIT, AN END CREDIT!?” Watching with intense interest, she failed to hear the knocking at her door. With her lights out, and how invested she was with the end credits, it was easy to mistake her place being void of human presence.

A minute passed, the end credits just shook her to her core, after everything she’s been through for the last 72 (or less, she slept in between) hours. “OH MY GOD!”

Then, her door was banging.

Shaken, (L/N) struggled, albeit lazily, to get off her bed, her legs reduced to jelly as she headed for her door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

When she opened the door, she was met with a light slap on the head.

"Ow, dad!"

"Don't 'ow, dad' me, I've been knocking for hours, (Y/N)!"

"You've been knocking for just a few minutes, dad." Her other dad says helpfully with a roll of his eyes.

"Still! Answer. Your. Door!"

"Yes, yes," stepping aside, her dads walk in, bearing gifts in hand.

The rest of the day was catching up with her parents inside her apartment, chatting about the places they've visited for Golden Week that she turned down (because she didn't like traveling when she had a brand new game, duh), laughing at their traveling antics as well. They stayed until dinner, taking over her kitchen.

Her final night with her parents.

She loved her parents, she really did. They were so supportive of her and made sure that she was alright. Before they left, they (more like her dad) demanded to join them for brunch with their other relatives. Kissing them goodbye, she walked back into her quiet home.

It was a wonderful distraction, for a time.

And before she knew it, the weekend was over.

Then came Monday.

The long, glorious vacation days from Golden Week was over.

What a good week spent, playing video games nonstop, only to be forced out of her house by her parents to spend time with them (she enjoyed them, mind you), and now, a new problem surfaces: returning back to her normal routine life.

Technically, it was easy.

But here’s the thing: two weeks ago, before Golden Week, she had confessed to her first love. Only to be shot down.

Thankfully, he seemed busy with his requirements to even bother with her. Also, he had gone to his hometown for the holidays. Then maybe, he realized how awkward and weird she was after all this time and decided to cut losses. Yes, maybe he did.

She didn’t mind, as much as it pained her, she had anticipated it. It didn’t mean it hurt any less, though.

Maybe he really just wanted to be friends again.

Just friends.

Panic rose whenever she caught sight of his dark hair causing her to turn away or hide. Even when she didn't see him, she was wary of any of his friends.

It must've made her look like a crazy person, especially to her friends.

She did not want to see Miya Osamu, plain and simple.

She thought right after confessing, her heart would be numb enough to withstand the pain of seeing him. Nope. She was wrong. So, so, so wrong.

This wasn't like a video game where she can just reload at a different checkpoint and redo the mission all over and make better choices, so the turnout would be different. No. Unfortunately, this was real life. And real life sucked and gave you one chance.

Sighing heavily, she honestly tried not to think much on it. After all, it's a rite of passage, right? You get your heart broken every once in a while. Also, it's good motivation. Right?

Right.

"Right,"

She watched the metronome swing side to swing, hypnotically.

Everything else faded, save for the twitching of the metronome, just waiting on her.

Propping her instrument between her chin and shoulder.

She paused, watching the sway of the metronome one last time. Then she played.

As she played her violin, its sounds spilling with every chord, she was drowning the room with a song.

There was a certain intensity with every bow, with every shudder, it pierced through. In her head, she could see the notes she’s memorized, taking into account her timing, fingers dancing along the chords. She was aware of the tempo, careful with her fingers, the pressure of her bow.

Gentle pushing and pulling through, letting the music pour out. The sounds echo throughout the room, its melody clear, poignant, resonating.

The violin may be an instrument that can have its melody amplified by an accompaniment piece – a piano, viola, cello. But here, within this very moment, none of it mattered. She poured everything into her music, her heart, her soul – her heartache. If anything, her heartache was amplified by her music.

Brows pinching, she poured her yearning, her hopes – things a foolish heart like heart still yearns for. Wishful thinking of a foolish little girl.

In a sea of music, she drowned herself to the flow of emotions she was pouring. And in almost perfect clarity, as she drowned herself into the music, she could make out grey eyes, grey with a hint of burgundy.

Drawing out the last note, a shaky exhale escape her mouth, gently taking the instrument away and dropping the bow to her side.

When she opened her eyes, expecting to see the room bathed in the afterglow of the afternoon dawn, what she saw instead was Miya Osamu wearing an awestruck look on his handsome face. The afterglow painting his face, highlighting his contours and features, giving him an ethereal glow.

“Mi-Miya-kun…”

Taking a deep breath, worry and fear clouding his eyes, he took a step forward. “Stop,” she literally and figuratively felt her heart stop at his command. “let me speak first, (L/N).”

Sweat formed on her hands, threatening to let her instrument slip off her hands. Wordlessly, she put her instrument back in its case, hearing her heart hammering against her chest the whole time while his gaze burned on hers. Clasping the case shut, she let out a shaky breath and turned to the taller boy, waiting, anticipating.

Who knew confrontations could be so nerve-wracking?

Already, she knew what he was going to say to her, imagined the words he’d say to let her down gently. Her heart had already been poured out into her piece earlier, now it was left vulnerable to whatever her childhood crush had to say.

In front of her, Osamu licked his lips, rubbed his hands together, put them in his pocket, let the other hang on his side – unsure what to do with them, really.

They were both quiet. Two quiet people, unsure with the reproach of all this.

Eventually, Osamu found his voice, (Y/N) braced herself.

Here it comes!

"Sorry..."

Ah.

She let out a breath, shoulders sagging, fingers loosening, lips fixed in a broken smile.

She respects his decision. She understands. She really does. But the age-old ache in her heart says otherwise.

Hot tears were beginning to well up, twisting her fingers into her skirt, she fought to keep them at bay.

Apparently, she was too focused on that one word that she almost missed the rest.

"...for not giving you a straight answer and you got a half-assed one instead."

She stopped, tears halting.

Meeting his eyes, she blinked her (e/c) eyes.

"...what?"

Not that she had a good look at him, he was red. All over. But he didn't yield from her gaze, meeting her head-on.

Braving another step, followed by another, Osamu found himself standing in front of her.

"What I'm saying is," if she could hear his heart, feel it, she'd know that it took every ounce of courage for him to be heard. That it took him all Golden Week, haunted him even, to remember that fucking incident and be reminded (especially by his piss-dyed twin and angry best friend), of his fuck up. "I," he swallowed the tension, the nervousness, even if it was still there. "(Y/N), I like you."

She took a step back, gasping, hands flying to her mouth and burning cheeks.

"Y-You do?"

He nods. "Have been for years," He recalls elementary, remembering that girl who offered her onigiri to him, who laughed quietly at his sleepy face.

"I...I-I..." if possible, her face burned even more, like she was ready to combust. Osamu worried, walking up to her, only to stop when she held out a hand. "...I wasn't expecting this."

Laughing, he inspected her outstretched (s/c) hand,  before taking hold of it in his.

He places her hand on his cheeks, leaning against it. "Me either,"

The metronome stops.

His eyes meet hers, a dreamy look glazed in them.

Her music ended.

But a new one plays.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

August 2018

Osamu sighed, taking off his cap to run his hand over his hair. It had been a long drive to Kita's farm back to his apartment, which was in Himeji. Plus, it was scorching hot today. 

Summer was merciless.

“How did it go?” a gentle voice asked.

Looking up, he found (Y/N) peaking her head from the sofa, her hair in a messy bun, light clothing, a pen, and her tablet on hand, clearly working on her latest commission.

Smiling tiredly, he walked around the sofa and practically dropped himself on top of her, head on her lap.

Ever so gently, she set aside her pen and tablet and ran her fingers through his hair, Osamu hummed at her touch. "That bad, huh?"

"No," his voice was muffled. "Kita-san's just...a really tough critic."

"But he at least offered some good points?" she asked, voice still gentle, soothing.

Osamu hummed again, shifting his head to the side to look at her, a dreamy look on his face. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Although they've been dating for a while now, she still flushes at his compliments, stifling in her whines, using the one hand that wasn't on his hair to hide her face. She was still the most adorable thing.

"D-Do you want some water? Or tea?"

"Nah," he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around her waist. "let's stay like this for a little while."

All the tiredness of today, the weariness of work, and the merciless summer heat completely disappear now that he was with her. Finally.

"Oh, by the way," he takes her hand from his hair, bringing it to his lips. "I'm home, (Y/N)."

She returns his smile, caressing his cheek. Leaning down, she boops her nose to his. "Welcome back, Osamu."

[ratmonky]

Sweet Blossoms

this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*

AO3 Link

There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.

You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.

Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.

“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”

“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”

“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.

“Stop being vulgar.”

“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.

“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.

“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”

Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.

“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”

You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.

“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”

Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.

“Okay.”

Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.

~~~

There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.

Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.

It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.

Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.

At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.

While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.

You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.

I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.

It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.

Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.

By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.

“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”

“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”

His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.

Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”

Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.

“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”

He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Why?” you whispered back.

“You looked disappointed.”

You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”

Someone shushed.

Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”

His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

You got quiet, “Yeah.”

I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?

Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.

The movie started.

Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.

He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.

There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.

Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.

A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.

Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.

In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.

He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.

Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.

Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.

“Why did you leave those flowers?”

The question was sudden.

“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”

Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?

There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.

If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?

Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.

Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.

Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.

He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.

You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.

He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.

Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.

His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.

Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.

The lights turned on, ruining the mood.

Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.

The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.

“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.

“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”

“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.

“Junpei.”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stop by somewhere?”

“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”

“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.

Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.

“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”

Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.

In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.

“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.

“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”

“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”

This time, his blood rushed south.

Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”

“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”

“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.

Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”

He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.

The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.

You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.

Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”

“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.

“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”

“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”

The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.

“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.

Thankfully, you knew what to say.

“Have you ever jerked off to me?”

Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.

“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.

“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.

He mumbled.

“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.

“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.

His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”

“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.

He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.

You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.

“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”

He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.

It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.

“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.

“How?”

“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.

“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.

“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.

“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.

“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”

Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”

Something snapped inside him.

Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.

Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.

You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.

“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”

His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.

Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.

Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.

He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.

Like bringing a condom.

“Is it really okay?” he asked.

You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.

Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.

You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.

He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.

Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.

Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.

Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.

The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.

His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.

Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.

Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.

A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.

Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.

There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.

You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.

It was time to go home.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.

He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.

The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.

Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.

You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.

His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.

Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.

[johnkrrasinski]

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

Chapter 2: bad was the blood

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,376

Summary: blessed with telepathic abilities since birth, you were captured by HYDRA and turned into one of their weapons to kill. after the blip, you were pardoned by the government and you were obliged to check up with dr. raynor everyday which you had no clue would lead you to the one soul you’d been waiting for.

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+) angst, mentions of anxiety, nightmares, murders.

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @ohmickeyhenry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for trusting me with your story. i sincerely hope you like it.

It had been a week since you and Bucky reunited and ever since that night, you and him were practically inseparable. Your bedroom was next to his and each night, he always came to yours to catch up on things and some nights, your conversation would go so deep that he would find himself waking up in your bed when the sun rises. He’d always leave your bed slowly to go into his room so that he wouldn’t wake you.

Each night he sleeps next to you, his nightmare became less intense. They still haunted him but they were vague, it was as if the faces of his victims become blurry and the echoes become whispers. One night, Bucky came back home from a small mission late and by the time he arrived at the compound, you were already asleep. Bucky knew the passcode to your door so he could let himself in anytime. He typed in those numbers and slowly opened the door and he smiled at the view of you sleeping peacefully. He would watch you sleep all night if he could, but he was exhausted and so were you, so he left you alone to rest.

Beads of sweat rolled down your skin as the cold air sent shivers down your spine. You watched the emotions in Natasha’s eyes vanished, as if her soul left her body and that’s left was the vessel. Sam, Tony and Bruce stood there like statues, waiting for your order. They had one thing in common with Natasha and that was the void of emotion. You felt a sense of pride in turning the Avengers into lifeless soldiers. They were at your mercy, you could command them to destroy the entire world with only a whisper.

Then you felt a cold grip on your arm, “Y/N… Why are you doing this?” Those steel blue eyes held so much pain in them as if he had just been betrayed by the person he trusted the most. “Stop this now! This isn’t you.” Bucky pleaded.

“Stand back soldier, or you are next.”

“No, I won’t let you do this to our friends.”

“Stand back. I will not ask you once again,” you warned him without a hint of uncertainty.

“Stop this, now or I will.” Bucky opposed.

“Very well,” with merely a glare, you activated the soldier you once knew. Years ago in the cold bunker of Hydra, ready to murder with a single order.

“готов подчиниться.”

You watched his blue eyes turned to ice, imitating his infamous name. You smirked and leaned close to his ear, “welcome back, soldier.”

You thrashed your body in your sheets and woke up with a loud scream. You thought you were doing well but the nightmare returned. You were doing what you dreaded again to your friends, the people you considered your family now. You sat up in your bed and sobbed until you heard Bucky opened your door with a concerned gaze. “Y/N, are you okay…?” He didn’t hesitate in running to you and sat next to you on your bed.

“I didn’t mean to, I- I never meant to hurt anyone…” You sobbed against Bucky’s chest as he wrapped his arm around you. His flesh arm held your head close to where his heart was beating and he tried to calm you down by stroking your hair and shushed you. He didn't know what you meant by that and he had many questions to ask but he understood better than anyone that in this state, integrating you would only cause more damage, so he let you cry it all out and comfort you in every way he could.

“It’s okay, y/n. I’m here, it’s going to be okay.”

You cried as you laid on Bucky’s chest until exhaustion took you over. You didn’t remember when you both began to drift away but as Bucky was sleeping, he saw visions of you doing heinous things to people, innocent souls who were held against their wills. He heard their screams and their pleas, but they weren’t looking at him, they were looking at… Her. Bucky had never seen her gaze so cold. Then he was transported into another scene… The place where HYDRA used to store him. It was one of the Russian Armed Forces, Vasily Karpov who was in charge of him during his Winter Soldier years.

Bucky remembered every second he spent trapped in the chair as he was given his orders. But this time, it was her strapped on that chair, screaming in agony. He watched him spelling out the activation words, they were different than his but just as effective. Bucky tried to reach her out, wanting to punch all those men and get her out of there but somehow his feet were stuck in place.

As the last word was uttered, he watched the woman he had slowly fallen in love with disappeared, replaced by a soulless soldier who was ready to kill anything that stood in her way. Bucky woke up to faint echoes of his name being called, “Bucky…” And slowly, he began to come back to life, and he saw her face, still the woman he knew, not the soldier in his dream, looming over him. “Did you see it?”

Bucky instantly sat up as he stared at her, “you were one of the winter soldiers. You were there.”

You nodded, “I was… They never referred to me as the winter soldier, however, I was treated just the same as you were. I had the same purpose as you.”

“How come you never told me?” His gaze was soft, he didn’t sound disappointed or betrayed, he just sounded… Worried.

“I couldn’t… I just didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t want to ruin what we had so I figured, if I left you first, I wouldn’t have to hurt you too and I was afraid that if you found out, you’d never look at me the same.”

“Sweetheart, we are both haunted by the same things. I’d never hate you for what you did. Don’t you think I didn’t have the same fears before? We’ll get through this together, I promise.” He held your face in his hands, the contrast of temperature in both of his hands was somehow soothing you, reminding you that he was once just as peccable as you were.

“But I don’t trust myself, Bucky. Someone could find the book and if they say the words, I could hurt people again… I could hurt you too. And I don’t know if I would ever come back.”

“I won’t let that happen, I promise you. I couldn’t trust my own mind too until I went to Wakanda and they fixed me. They removed the winter soldier program and now I’m free.”

“Is that… Possible?”

“Yes, I’ll explain everything in the morning but, right now, we need to rest.”

“Okay…” you were feeling rather drowsy, not only physically but emotionally too. It was never easy to unravel such shame and remorse.

Bucky laid back and opened his arm for you to sneak under it. You placed your head on his chest, feeling safe and sound being so close to him. Bucky’s fingers tangled with your hair as he kissed your forehead. “Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I promise,” he whispered.

The sound of his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

-

The next morning, Bucky and you had breakfast together. It was early, the dawn had just begun, and some of the Avengers were out for a run or still asleep. You and Bucky had some alone time in the kitchen and you were thankful for the brief moment of solitude.

“So, what I said last night…” Bucky initiated the conversation as he put his coffee mug on the table. “I really think our best option is to go to Wakanda, y/n. They’ve got the best medical equipment, the people are extremely smart, they’ll take care of you. Just like they took care of me.”

“What makes you think they want to treat me, Buck? I mean, they took you in because the king and Steve made an agreement, but they have no idea who I am and even if they do, they don’t owe me anything.”

“The Wakandans may be resourceful and independent, but they are generous people too. I’ll call Ayo and sort everything out. They can spare me a few more favours.”

“If they agree to treat me, I only wanna go if you go too. I don’t wanna be alone in a country I’ve never been to before, Buck. I’m not familiar with their culture, I don’t speak their language, I don’t wanna fuck it up, you know?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because you’re the only good thing that happened to me in the past seventy years.”

You never believed in butterflies, but you swore in that moment, the whole damn zoo went nuts. Bucky had a way to make you feel loved and cherished, and you were falling fast. You just hoped that he’d be there to catch you.

The sincerity in his eyes made you smile like you never had before. Looking back, the only times you had ever genuinely smiled was because of Bucky. His texts, his face, his touches, they were your newfound grace. Bucky told you that you were the only good thing that happened to him in the past seventy years, but so was he to you. Was it possible for two fucked up people who had done heinous things to find such love? You could only hope that nothing would come in the way of that.

-

Wakanda was a breath of fresh air. Figuratively and literally. You loved New York, no matter what, it would always be your home. However, Wakanda could definitely give New York a run for its money. The air was free out of pollutions from vehicles, everywhere you look, the landscape was filled with scenic greenery and not to mention the futuristic architectures yet deeply rooted in their culture. The people were welcoming and kind, yet they were not to be crossed over.

When you and Bucky first landed, the king himself, T’Challa with Okoye and Ayo by his sides welcomed you. It was intimidating to be in their presence, yet you were fascinated by how graceful they were. You were hoping that your anxiety wouldn’t make you do something dumb or stupid in front of them so as soon as you were out of the quinjet that Sam was flying, you bowed in front of the king. “We don’t do that here…” T’Challa declared.

You swore you could pass out from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled when you straightened your pose. T’Challa shook hands with Bucky like they were old friends, so did he with Sam. Bucky had been communicating with Ayo regarding your visit today so he didn’t have to explain why you were there anymore. They led you to Shuri’s lab where the miracle occurs.

When she saw you, she was nothing like you expected. She was younger than you but she seemed so ahead of you. She seemed so ahead of everyone in the room. She was bright and had an effervescent personality. The lab was unlike anything you’d ever seen, even Tony’s lab in the compound wasn’t as swanky as this one. Shuri’s lab had equipment you didn't even know existed.

She greeted you both, “welcome back Sergeant Barnes, and who’s your girlfriend?” her bluntness caught you off guard.

“Princess, this is y/n and y/n this is Princess Shuri. King T’challa’s younger sister. She was the one who fixed me eight years ago.”

“Hi Princess, it’s an honour.” You shook her hands.

“Welcome. Now let’s get you comfortable so we can take a look inside your brain, yeah?”

Now here you were, sitting in front of a burning yule log, the fire illuminated your face in the dead of the night. Ayo was standing across you, watching you with her spear ready but she trusted you, regardless. Bucky sat next to you, close enough to reassure you that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you or anyone.

“It’s gonna work, y/n. I promise.”

“What if it doesn’t? How will you bring me back?”

“Shuri would know what to do. I was sceptical of my own mind too at first, but I turned out fine. Better, even. You’re in good hands.”

“If she comes back, and you can’t stop her, promise me you’ll put her out, even if it kills me.”

“Y/N…” He looked wounded, how could he possibly do such a thing to the woman he loved?

“James! I can’t hurt anyone else anymore, and worse, if I hurt you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He nodded, though his heart was saying otherwise. “Okay, I promise.”

The tears in your eyes crawled down your cheeks and he held you close in the hut you’d been sharing with him. He kissed your hair like he would when he comforted you. The hut was simple and far away from the modern life you were used to in the compound or in New York, but you loved the tranquillity and simplicity of it. Some nights where Bucky and you would lie together, warming each other up, wearing nothing but customary clothes, you’d quietly think, you could get used to this. The simple life, with Bucky. Just you and him, and the rest of the world fade into the background. You wondered, could you still have it? That life? Or was it just wishful thinking? Right now, you could only hope that you’d be released from the demons of your past, that still lived in your head.

“I’ll be here, doll.” Bucky whispered and held your hand until the very last second.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone, Y/N. We successfully removed the winter soldier programs from James’ mind like rotten fur, you have nothing to worry.”

You nodded, “okay Ayo… I’m ready.”

You inhaled and stared at your own feet. The soil seemed like a great distraction at that moment. You wished you could hold Bucky’s hand but you didn’t want to look like a scared little baby. Then you heard it, Ayo’s assured voice spelling out the first codeword and the tension in your body rose. You trembled from the cold air, preparing yourself for the worst to happen as she uttered the next one. With each word, the fear in your veins amplified, thinking that any second now you were going to be a passenger in your own body and the demon that lived within you was going to take over.

But as Ayo uttered the last word, you were still there. You remembered your name, you remember where you were, you remembered the people around you and why you were there. You didn’t feel paralyzed, but rather alive. Freed from chains. You couldn’t believe it, you were never one to believe in miracles but that night, you did.

“You’re free, y/n.” Ayo smile like a proud mother.

“I’m free…” You repeated her words as if you were trying to convince yourself that it’s true.

She nodded, and you looked at Bucky who couldn’t hold himself back from wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your temple. “Oh, baby….” You could hear the genuine happiness in his voice and the shape of his lips forming a smile against you.

“You are both free,” Ayo declared.

You looked into his blue eyes that were gleaming with joy and love for only you. In that moment, you wished you had your phone with you so you could capture the priceless look on his face. You knew he was happy for you, however, you felt like you were celebrating his happiness instead. Maybe that’s what true love really is, celebrating each other’s happiness.

He grabbed your face and kissed you so deeply, taking your breath away. You could taste the saltiness of your tears cascaded down to your lips, but it was okay because you could feel Bucky’s soft lips against yours too and it was all you needed.

You held hands with Bucky, walking down to your shared hut, never wanting to untangle yourself from each other. Each night in Wakanda was an entire voyage itself. The scintillating stars in the sky and the quietness was paradise. You could see why Bucky adored Wakanda so much, everything about this country is perfect.

You laid on Bucky’s chest, playing with his dog tag. Even while sleeping, he never took it off. “I can’t believe I’m finally free…” you whispered.

Bucky looked down at you, “believe it doll, you deserve it.”

You sat up and leaned on your elbow, looking at him, “Thank you for getting me here and for being with me through it all. You’re amazing, Bucky.”

“No, doll, that is you. You’re one of the strongest people I know and I admire that.” Bucky sat up and he stared into your eyes as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

In that moment, there was a sudden urge to have him in a way you hadn’t had. You didn’t care about anything else, you just needed to feel every inch of him, and you needed him to feel every inch of you. You slammed your lips onto his, taking Bucky by surprise yet he leaned into it. Bucky grabbed your arse, pushing your body closer to him, despite the nonexistent gap between you. Bucky licked your bottom lip, and you took his cue as parting them, allowing his tongue to take over your mouth.

You stopped for a second to gasp for air, and you closed your eyes, letting Bucky take the wheel. Bucky moved his flesh hand to your hair, holding a fistful of it to your face in place. Then when he felt like he needed more, Bucky moved his hands to your thighs, lifting you onto his thighs, then he shifted his body around so that he was on top of you and you were lying on the pillow.

Bucky was still kissing you until he started moving his kisses down to your chin, then to your jaw then to your neck, the spot that he knew would elicit a sound of you. Bucky might’ve been over a hundred years old and he hadn’t been intimate with anyone since 1945 but he still remembered how he used to make a woman scream for his name and he wasn’t going to waste that talent.

Bucky lifted the hem of the tank top you were sleeping in and you raised your hands to make it easier for him to get rid of it. This was the first time Bucky had seen you naked, you were always sleeping in clothes next to him, whether it’s a tank top and super short shorts, you were always covered. But now, you were all bare and you were slightly nervous because you hadn’t let anyone see you like this since you were captured by HYDRA.

Chills ran down your spine from the crisp air, but it was also because of the way Bucky was ogling you. You could see how dilated his pupils are, overshadowing the blue. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed.

Bucky continued his lecherous act, kissing down your chest then to your right nipple, swirling his tongue around like a lollipop while his other hand toyed with your left breast. You arched your back as you shut your eyes, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. You whimpered, needing more of him. “Bucky…”

He wanted to taste more of you so he trailed kisses down your stomach, waking up the butterflies inside until he was breathing to your core. Even in the darkness, he could see how your wetness glistens. He wrapped his arms in each of your thighs and spread them apart for him to dive in. He could tell you were feeling a little shy but he made sure to make you feel otherwise by kissing the insides of your thighs, telling you, “I bet you taste real sweet, darling…”

His words made you open your eyes and looked down at him, between your things. He smirked mischievously at your reaction. Then he dipped into your core, licking a stripe up to your clit, making you moan out his name. The way his stubble burnt your delicate flesh made you want to close your thighs however, Bucky held them firmly in place. He savoured every drop, devouring you like a famished man. Your thighs trembled around him and you bit your lip trying to surpass the moans. The slurping sounds that he made were sinful.

Then he shoved two of his fingers inside you, scissoring you open for him. You gasped, the intrusion shocked you, causing you to open your eyes and look down at his act. “Oh God, Buck, I’m fucking close…”

He dipped down again, savouring more juices flowing out of you. “Shh, I know doll, let go. I got you.” He continued his assault on your cunt until you felt the bubble in your belly exploded, making you see stars. You had forgotten the pleasure of chasing your orgasm until Bucky reminded you. Bucky swallowed every drop you released, not wanting to waste anything. He stayed there until you had nothing more to give.

Bucky rose from between your thighs, kissing you passionately and you could taste yourself on his tongue. It was so fucking debauched yet you fucking loved it. You wrap your arms around his neck and run your hands through his hair, messing it up and he looked so fucking sexy.

“I want you Bucky, please fill me up,” you pleaded in between makeout.

“You want this doll? You want me?” He knew what you desired, he just wanted to make sure one last time before you go all the way so you wouldn’t regret it in the morning.“

“Yes Bucky, I want all of you… Only you.”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Bucky grabbed your hands and put them above your head. He pulled back to take off his pants, freeing his cock out of his boxer. To say Bucky was packing light would be a massive lie. He was long and thick, not to mention he was painfully hard. You really didn’t expect it. You had thought about it and you guessed he was more on the lengthy side yet, he seemed to surprise you more and more every time.

Bucky saw the way you stared at it and he smirked at your reaction. “Like what you see, doll?” He stroked the shaft, getting it ready to plunge into you.

You bit your lip as your chest heaved at the licentious scene, “can I taste it?”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head while still stroking himself, “not tonight, doll. But I’ll hold your word.” He crawled back up to your body and you spread your legs apart to make room for him, you maintained eye contact as he held both of your hands that were still above your head. You could feel the nudge of the tip of his cock on your bud, making your toes curl, “are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes…” you practically whined. “Please, take me.”

Without a second thought, Bucky pushed himself inside you, slowly yet you could feel every inch of him stretching your walls open and you threw your head back, the friction caused your head to spin. You cried out his name as you tightened your grip on his hands, needing to hold onto something.

Bucky grunted when he was fully inside and he took a moment to hide his face in your neck, “ah, fucking hell, doll. You feel amazing.”

“Move Bucky, please…” you pleaded after you adjusted to him being inside you.

Bucky began to move slowly, started with shallow thrusts, pulling back a bit then pushed it back inside. When you didn’t show any signs of resistance, he began to pick up the pace and it made your moans grow louder. “Oh, fuck…” you cursed due to the sensation. “Faster, Buck…”

Your wish is Bucky’s command, he did as you asked and he was enjoying more and more of it. You lifted your legs higher on his waist, locking them there for dear life. You wailed as his cock impaled you, forgetting that there were probably kids sleeping around your hut but you were too clouded with pleasure to worry about that. The onslaught caused you to clench around him and your coil tightened. Knowing you won’t last much longer, Bucky detached his flesh hand from yours and moved it down to your clit, rubbing it in circles over and over again and you plummeted into bliss, electricity ran through your veins as you hit your peak, releasing yourself all over him.

Bucky kept thrusting, seeing the way your face contorted in satisfaction because of him and how your walls tightened around him threw him off the edge, causing him to reach his own orgasm. He spilt himself inside you, finishing with shallow thrusts until every drop was stored. “Ah, fuck…” He groaned.

Bucky laid on top of you while still staying inside you. You loved the intimacy of being this close to him, honestly, you wouldn’t mind staying in this position until dawn. Both of you tried to gain control over your breathing as you were completely spent. Once he regained composure, he pulled himself out of you and laid next to you.

“That was…”

“Fucking amazing? Yeah…” Bucky completed that sentence as he held you in his arms and kissed your forehead.

“You were amazing, doll.” He continued.

“I haven’t had sex since… Well, since as long as I can remember.”

“Me too, doll. You are my first since everything that happened.”

“You are mine, too.”

For a few seconds, you just stared at each other lovingly with satisfaction plastered all over your faces. You relished in each others’ warmth, despite the hut reeking of sweat and smell of sex, you found comfort in each other, putting both of you to sleep.

tags; @ohmickeyhenry @suitofvibraniumarmor @themaddies-obx @beminetokeep @bluemoon-icecream-blog @bluemoon-icecream @harprs @thefridgeismybestie @abitofeverythingg @wolfonthemoonwatchestvshows @julimelodi @bookscoffeandotherstuff @tanyaherondale @artisancowbells @ferxaniti @intothesoul @hallecarey1 @buckybarnesplumwhore @thefallenbibliophilequote @andiyholly @emizla @capxwinter @jevans2 @alwaysreadingimagineschick @swtltlmrvlgrl @extremelyblackandwhite

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Heya Steph! I was wondering if you know of any fics where either John and/or Sherlock are animals? No werewolf fics though, I've read too many of them recently 😅

Hey Lovely!

Ahhh, not many! I thought I had a tag for it but apparently not, LOL. Here’s what I have tagged on my lists, feel free to add more, friends! AND if you’re inclined, I do have a Shapeshifters AU list <3 Sorry I know most of these are “them turned into animals”, but I don’t have many LOL

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ANIMAL AUs

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w., 31 Ch. || Changeling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he's destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

TO READ:

Gone to the Dogs by trillian_jdc (G, 6,013 w, 3 Ch. || Shapeshifting AU || Post S4, Animal Transformation, Dogs, Cuddling/Snuggling, Pre-Slash) – Sherlock Holmes has a creative idea to help his brother hide away -- change him into a dog, and have him entertain Rosie. When Greg Lestrade finds out, he refuses to let Mycroft face a toddler alone.

Gone Is My Past by cyerus (T, 7,800 w., 1 Ch. || Shapeshifter AU || Animal Transformations, Non-Explicit Self Harm, Angst, Dog John) – John is an army bomb detection dog who has been turned into a human. Angst. No, really, angst.

in the hearts of small things by michi_thekiller (G, 10,329 w., 1 Ch. || Animal AU || Post TRF, Cat Sherlock, Therapy Pets, Fluff and Angst, Coping, Depression) – In which John gets a cat and names it Sherlock. Part 1 of the The One with a Cat series

How to Tame Your Dragon by Mad_Maudlin (E, 12,859 w., 1 Ch. || Magical / Dragon AU || Dub Con, Mind Fuck, D/S Themes, Emotional Manipulation, Collars, Sorcerer Sherlock, Dragon John) – Sorcerer!Sherlock sets out to trap himself a pet dragon. Said dragon turns out to be far more interesting than he initially anticipated.

Sherlock's Tiny Companion by Noxtorious (G, 26,811+ w., 21/? Ch. || WiP || Animal AU || Dog John, Fluff) – Mycroft comes bearing a gift, much to Sherlock's dismay. He doesn't want it, but there's no choice in the matter. He comes into possession of a puppy that was bred for military work, but was put out of commission. The last thing Sherlock wanted was a flatmate, but at least little John Watson can't speak. Instead, he is annoyingly expressive and follows Sherlock everywhere! Not only that, Sherlock has to deal with annoying Yarders, an even more than annoying brother, a really snaky and over intelligent puppy and cases. Before the end of the day, Sherlock is pretty sure he is going to lose it

The Prickly Spines of Love by Ficlet_Sprinkler (T, 43,905 w., 18 Ch. || Teenlock / University AU || Drug Use, Mind Palace, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Crime Scenes, Fluff, Emotional Sherlock, Smart John) – Sherlock Holmes is a lonely teen, whose only friend is his pet hedgehog: John. Until one day, he visits the vet for a check-up... and his life is changed forever.

Dog Days by All_I_need (E, 101,627 w., 24 Ch. || Post-Baskerville AU || Experiments Gone Wrong, Fluff and Humour) – John has an accident in the laboratory of the Baskerville military facility. While they wait for the scientists to find a solution, he and Sherlock must re-examine the nature of their friendship as they navigate daily life and the Work, all while trying to answer the truly important questions: Is it okay to pet your flatmate if he happens to be a dog at the moment? And how exactly do you beg a self-professed sociopath for cuddles? Part 1 of Dog Days

The Hybrid by brilliantboffins (E, 148,455+ w., 46 Ch. || WiP || Cat/Human Hybrid Sherlock AU || Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Past Sexual Abuse, Mentions of Rape, Blow Jobs, Switchlock, Drug Use, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Violence, Rimming) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, John ends up buying a cat hybrid. As both owner and pet navigate the waters of their new relationship, they learn things about themselves and each other.

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Feel free to add proper ones, my friends!