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fleur-de-violette · 1 year ago

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Reading material, love, new beginnings, and blue haired samurai

AO3

Summary:

Jason had told Cass she could use his books as reading material. He didn’t expect her to find her way in his video games, as well.

Note: A second fic for the DC out of shadow event by @holyserverbatman. It’s inspired by the prompt “Cass using daytime TV to learn English” but I changed it a little.

I hope you’ll enjoy it!

“What are you doing?”

Cass turned toward the door, where Jason was standing, his body taking almost the entire frame. She could understand, seeing him like this, why the Gotham underworld was scared of the Red Hood. But she wasn’t. For several reasons. One: she had sparred with him several times, and she was confident in her ability to take him down if needed. Two: there was very little chance of him wanting to actually hurt her. And three: she didn’t do anything to wrong him. This time.

“Learning.” She said, pointing vaguely at the TV. “Reading.”

His face twisted in a grimace. “Is it mine?”

“You told me I could!” she defended herself immediately. He did. He told her she could go into his room to take practice material.

“I told you you could take books, Cass. I didn’t say anything about video games.”

“But it’s better.” Books were long and scary and frustrating. The only ones with images were the ones for children, and Cassandra wasn’t a child. She never had been. “There are images, and they are speaking with the text! It’s better.”

Jason let out a long-suffering sigh and let himself into the room.

“Should I stop? Do you want me to?” she asked shyly. Jason hadn’t taken back his room in the manor for long, and he still struggled to be at ease with them. No matter how much he thought he was hiding it, it was impossible to get pass her. She didn’t want her small mistake about what he had allowed her to take and what he hadn’t to hurt him.

He sat next to her, letting his entire body fall. It was something she had noticed he was doing a lot in the manor, nowdays: being loud and taking space. She herself had never had that kind of habit: the stealthier she was, the better.

“No, it’s fine. But, just so you know, if what you’re looking for is something with voice and text, I do have DVDs. With the option to turn on subtitles.”

She shrugged. “I like the game. I like making choices.”

He made a vague move toward the TV. “Do you even know what this is about?”

“Of course, I do.” Was he underestimating her that much? She was probably slower than any or her sibling would be in the gameplay, but she had understood most of the words, occasionally looking up some on google images, and she had followed the story. “The protagonist is pursued by people because of her father’s secret, but she found her way into a house full of samurai. They have accepted to watch over her in exchange for her services as a maid. There is a war going on.” She had to admit she wasn’t on point with the exact context and implications of the war. She could probably ask Damian about it later. Surely, he would know about feudal Japan’s history.

“Yes, I mean, I get that you’re following the story,” so he wasn’t underestimating her that much. Good to know. “But you do realize the main point here is not the war, right?”

Oh. “Yes, I read the jacket. It’s a romance game.”

“And you’re cool with that?”

“Yes. Why not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just never really took you for the romance type.”

This wasn’t exactly new. Because of who she was - a vigilante, a fighter- people didn’t often think she would be interested in this kind of things. But then again…

“You don’t look like it either. And there are two of these in your room.”

She was playing the samurai one, and had let the high school one aside. She had been scared the one taking place in a school would involve too much vocabulary the game would assume she was familiar with, when she wasn’t. As strange as it seemed, the samurai seemed a better choice in that regard.

Jason looked at the floor as if it was very interesting. “There are some more in my safe houses, actually, if you’re interested. And, yeah, I guess I don’t date. But it’s different in a game. Fiction versus reality, you know? What I want in a game is different from what I want in real life.”

She hummed, focusing her attention back on the game. She had a choice to make. “Do we learn kendo from the blue haired guy?”

“Depends? Do you want to get closer to him?”

“I am pursued. Learning kendo would be an effective way to defend myself.”

“That’s not really how this kind of game works.”

“Let’s learn kendo,” she decided, cliquing on the button.

An image of the blue haired guy, standing behind the protagonist as he was showing her how to use a sword filled the screen, and the dialogue continued. They just stayed silent for a while, Cass focusing on the words on the screen and the character’s voice before she said, “you have gun games, too.”

He let out another long sigh. “FPS, yeah. I guess they relax me. It doesn’t feel like shooting a real gun,” he said, answering the question she didn’t ask, “because no life is at stake. Not mine, and not the one of the guy in front of me. I know what you think about me, about what I did, what I do, please, don’t say you don’t care because that would be a lie and we both know it, but I promise you, I know what I’m doing when I shoot a gun, and video games are different.”

Do you? She wanted to ask, do you really know what you’re doing, do you really understand what a life is? Because how could people like him, how could people like them, who had died once and been given a second chance, may it be a few months or a few minutes after, really understand the finality of death?

But she didn’t say any of that, because she didn’t want to fight. Not now, not with him, not about that. He would see, one day, how important it was. Maybe he was already starting to see it, as his bullet became less and less lethal over time. She had faith. Batman would save him just like he saved her. Maybe not Bruce, but Batman.

“I didn’t want to try it,” she said instead. “I know it’s not the real thing, but I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, as if he hadn’t just accused her of hypocrisy. “Plus, it’s not like there is a lot of text in these, compared to visual novels. It’s not great practice, I guess.”

She nodded, glad the conversation moved to a more comfortable territory. They played a bit more in silence after that.

“Is that the ninja who saved us in the beginning?” Cass asked as a woman made her appearance. The second in the game after hours of playing, she noted.

Jason smirked. “Detective even in your downtime, I see. But yeah, she is. Badass ninja lady.”

Cass thought for a second before asking, “Can I date her?”

Jason let out a low laugh. “You’re starting to understand how the game works. But no, I don’t think so. I tried, and I couldn’t.”

“Lame.”

He snorted.

“What? That’s the right word.” Steph had taught it to her.

“Yeah,” he said, hands in the air in a defensive stance. “Yeah, that’s appropriate. Just weird in your mouth, that’s all.”

She didn’t say anything to that, instead playing a little more before deciding, “I’m dating Blue Haired Guy.”

“Is he your default option?”

“No? He’s nice, thought us kendo.”

“Yeah, he’s your default option.”

“How do people usually choose these things?”

“How would I know? I don’t date.”

“Maybe we should call Dick.”

“If you call Dick to choose who to date in a visual novel you are never allowed to touch my games ever again.”

So, it was decided. They wouldn’t call Dick, and they would date Blue Haired Guy.

“You could,” she said after a time. “You could date, if you wanted to.” He was conventionally good looking, despite the scars, and could hold a conversation.

“Yeah, I just… don’t want to,” he said, looking at the ceiling. “I never really thought about it, I guess. I think I have enough to take care of with myself before I involve someone else.”

She nodded. She could understand that, at least.

“I’ve killed so many people” said Blue Haired Guy on the speaker, as if reading their mind. “How could someone like me ever be worthy of your love?”

“Well, isn’t that bullshit,” Jason said. Cass ignored him. He wasn’t fully sincere anyway. He never was.

She looked at the screen. Two options were displayed. It took her a little while to understand them.

The first one was: I love you with the blood on your hands. Which was something so weird and foreign to her that she didn’t dwell on it.

The second one was: Let’s run away together. Which also wasn’t a very good choice. Running away from your responsibilities, from the consequences of your actions.

Her hands tightened on the controller.

She thought about it for a second, then chose the second option.

Run away.

Leave everything behind and start again. Find something to give meaning to your life, may it be love or justice.

Blue haired guy had found Batman in the protagonist, just like she once did.

And they could start again.

#batfam #dc #fanfiction #my writing #jason todd #cassandra cain #dcoutofshadows #fluff #fluff and angst

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lioma-gaming · 2 years ago

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Xenoblade Chronicles

TL;DR: It’s a great game. If you haven’t already, go play it.

The original Xenoblade Chronicles is, without a doubt, my all-time favorite RPG. A large-scale petition under the name of “Operation Rainfall” brought this game, along with two others, from Japan to the rest of the world in 2011. It was first released on the Wii, and got a Port for the New 3DS in 2015, as well as a visual overhaul in the “Definitive Edition” that came out for the Switch in 2020.

What appealed to me back then was this gigantic, unique world, as well as the overall very “non-Anime” design. Top that off with a story you can actually follow and a gameplay that’s both easy to get into and offers a lot to explore in the long-term, you get a memorable experience.

The Story

I don’t know about you, but most JRPGs that I’ve played tend to overdo it with the complexity of their plots, often introducing various conflicted organizations, nations, or organizations within nations, several kinds of “higher beings”, a magic system that is somehow absolutely vital to anything, different worlds or planes of existence besides the “main” one. Granted, none of that is a problem if you learn things one step at a time, but some games throw you into their world as if all of that is common knowledge. Xenoblade Chronicles starts off with an easy to understand concept: The biological world vs the mechanical world. Man vs machine, if you will. The people are outnumbered and weaker in terms of equipment, but they have an unbending will and, more importantly, a sword that easily penetrates machine armor, but does not harm living beings. After a long and hard battle, it seems as though all machines have been defeated, but then they launch a surprise attack on one of the remaining human colonies. Shulk, the protagonist, loses a dear friend, and off we go to chase the machines across the world and get revenge.

At this point, we do not need to know about Nopon or High Entia, let alone Egil, Zanza or Meyneth. Here’s the basic concept of the story and a motivation, the rest you’ll learn along the way.

The world

Did you ever play a game that’s set on the bodies of titans? As far as I know, this trait is exclusive to the Xenoblade Chronicles series. Unless you are traveling underground, you are always visually reminded in some way that you are traversing the body of a giant being, and the opposing titan, Mechonis, is often visible in the distance as well, like a constant reminder of the machine threat. The main titan, Bionis, offers different environments, from plains to rain forests, to a great sea and a frozen tundra, and every environment is populated with monsters and machines of various levels, sometimes even far above your own. The trick with these is that not all enemies react to “seeing” you. Some can be passed by walking slowly, and some will simply not attack unless provoked. Or you can simply come back in late game to check out that cave you never dared to venture into. Overall, each area is limited enough to offer enough corners and sights to explore and find treasure without getting lost, but large enough to feel "open-world", even though areas unlock one after another, and some even become inaccessible in late-game.

The visual design

One of the things I like best about this game is the design of its world and characters. Enemy design is a bit weird, but if you’ve played any JRPG that’s nothing new. (I’m just glad if I can recognize what that thing was based off.) None of the characters come off as stereotypical or undeveloped, they each have a unique design, skills, and personality traits - which also double as passive skills. Everything about them is consistent, and believable. They are never so over-the-top or anime-ish that it becomes impossible to take them seriously. And yes, that includes Riki - which is considered to be the least annoying Nopon in all of Xenoblade history. The only thing I very much dislike are the “more revealing” armor designs for the female characters. Thankfully, though, those armors are optional, and not even the standard outfits these characters come with. In contrast to Xenoblade 2, I can overlook this issue simply because I have the option to.

The gameplay

Like most JRPGs, you start off with some party members and gain more as you progress through the story. Levelling up is your key to survival, as well as figuring out how to use each character’s skills effectively. You can only control one character, but you can choose that character, as well as move freely during battles. Standard attacks are executed automatically, whereas skills have a “cool down” duration. Skills become more effective under specific conditions, like standing behind an enemy, being executed in a specific state or in combination with another skill. Besides the application of Buffs and Debuffs, this game also allows enemies to be (stance) broken, toppled and dazed, which is often needed in this specific order, but most characters can only break, topple or daze - so this is where the NPC party members come into play. The AI does, perhaps not a great, but a decent job at following up with the right skill when needed. Nonetheless, it is a great mechanic to help make it feel like you are really working as a team. Another noteworthy gameplay element are the visions. Not always, but usually when the situation grows dire, the game will grant Shulk a “vision”. Gameplay-wise, you see the next attack of your enemy, who is targeted, and what effect that attack will have, and then return to the “present” with a timer showing when that future is going to happen. You may then choose to prevent that future, either by doing something yourself, or by talking to one of your NPC companions and accessing their skills. There’s far more to combat, but rest assured that the game has good tutorials and everything is explained within the first couple of hours. (Unlike some other entries in the series that still introduce new features 80h into the game). The rest comes down to you mastering what you've learned.

A question that often comes up with JRPGs is: Will I have to grind for levels? Yes and No. If you do a majority of the side-quests in every region, you will be fine. The side quests are not particularly interesting, but there are many that can be completed in one go, and if you like the battle system as well as exploration, you probably won’t mind.

The technical aspect

On the Wii, the biggest critique were the graphics. Environments are so large that a lot of details were lost within a fairly small radius. Textures have low resolutions, and you can almost count the polygons on some models. But that was all because of the fairly poor capabilities of the Wii. The Definitive Edition on the Switch looks much better, providing far more details, and much cleaner textures. As for everything else, I can only say that I’ve played the Wii version last in early 2020, and gameplay-wise, it felt like it hadn’t aged at all, - and the Definitive Edition even tops that off with some quality of life improvements. It is also one of those games, that, thanks to being developed in an offline era, does not require patches or updates. It simply works. Imagine that!

The sound design

One complaint sometimes heard is that the characters talk too much during battle. I get that, it can be a bit much at times. They will comment on critical hits, on misses, on morale dropping, on enemies' HP dropping to zero and more. It never felt entirely out of place, too me, however, especially since characters answer to each other, so the "conversation", if you will, flows naturally. And that's considering you can create a team of three from any of the seven party members. The music is also fantastic! I was lucky enough to pick up some of the original tracks for free back in the Wii era when Nintendo still had a points-reward system that awarded players with PC wallpapers, screensavers and soundtracks. I'm getting old, I know ... If you want to check out a specific theme, I recommend "Engage the Enemy", which is the pre-boss-battle track that plays during cutscenes.

In conclusion

Xenoblade Chronicles is a great game that I have very fond memories of and still like to revisit every few years. It is also a game I could talk about for hours on end (This review is already shortened, believe it or not).

I was overwhelmed by how good this game was, considered that it was the first title of Monolith Soft, and sadly, it still makes me furious to think of how badly Xenoblade Chronicles 2, and yes, even Xenoblade Chronicles X, fare in comparison when the studio clearly knew how to make a good game for an international audience. But that's a rant I'm saving for another day ...

#xenoblade chronicles #nintendo switch #nintendo wii #video games #jrpgs #xenoblade chronicles definitive edition #game review

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader, heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.” you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,” you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

2K notes · View notes

seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

Inescapable

Part 2 of Always - another soulmate au with extra angst!

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Miya Atsumu x female reader

TW toxic relationships, implied abuse, blind reader

“Stay here,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek before you feel his warmth retreat.

It’s an effort to quell the fleeting panic that rises in his absence. Japan is your home – was your home – but Tokyo… You’re not supposed to be in the village. Only the athletes, trainers and the support crew for the national team were supposed to stay there. It kept out distractions, made it easier for security, gave the athletes the space to focus on what they’re there for; to compete. To win.

You don’t know how he did it, what strings he had to pull, but somehow he’d managed.

A room for the two of you. Just the two of you.

“You’re staying with me,” he’d told you when you’d brought up the possibility of going home to Miyagi to visit your family, or even spend a few days with Makki and Mattsun. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The words had been whispered, a soft, teasing purr as lips curled into a smirk at your neck, but you know what he’s like when he’s competing. The focus and obsession he’ll throw himself into.

Especially when you both know who he’ll be competing against.

Nevertheless, you’re here. Alone now, standing in a sea of strangers talking too loud in a cacophony of foreign tongues while Tooru left to go find his team–

Strong, familiar arms encircle your waist, a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

– but only for a moment.

“C’mon, cutie. Let’s get going – Coach gave us twenty before he wants us at the gym.”

—

You know one or two of the players on the national team from San Juan. They’re friendly enough, and they’ll stop and chat with you on the odd nights you venture out into the cafeterias dotted around the village for dinner. But for the most part they’re focused on other things and Tooru–

Tooru’s possessive enough of your attention at the best of times.

Which means that you’re either with him, tucked carefully under his arm as he guides you around the village, or you’re stuck in the room, bored out of your mind waiting for him to come home to you. And for lack of anything better to do, you have the games playing on the TV.

Just for the sound of your mother tongue filling the room around you. Just so you won’t be alone with your thoughts for too long.

It’s different, back home in San Juan. But you understand it – why he brought you.

“Where I go, you go, always.”

“Always.”

And the loneliness is worth it, you think, when he sinks down into the mattress beside you after a long day’s training and pulls you close, nuzzling into your side. This is better than being left behind. You’re here to support the man you love. Your soulmate, the name on your arm be damned.

His good luck charm, he hums, kissing you in the early hours of the morning before slipping away.

But even you can’t just sit around the apartment all day long. It’s good to stretch your legs, even when you’re in strange, unfamiliar territory. You tell yourself that what Tooru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, forgetting just for one blissful moment that your soulmate and his team are not the only ones who might catch you wandering.

Of course, that realisation doesn’t sink in until broad shoulders suddenly barrel past you, knocking you off your feet. And you would have fallen, awkwardly probably, had a pair of strong, lean arms not caught at your waist, steadying you.

“Jeeze, Bokkun! Watch where yer goin’, wouldja!”

The first voice, the thick, drawling Kansai dialect isn’t familiar, but the voice that follows is impossible to misplace.

“Thought I told you two–”

It cuts off abruptly, and in some distant part of your brain you register that the stranger’s still holding you, the warmth of his hand still braced on your hip, but all you can really focus on is the owner of that second voice.

“Iwa?”

Tooru had told you he’d be here, Hinata too and Kageyama. And of course Ushijima, but you’d assumed that – at least up until they played against one another or team Japan got knocked out of the running – they’d be busy and you wouldn’t cross paths.

There’s a surprised intake of air from your left – ‘Bokkun’, you imagine – and he asks, “Wait, you know her, dude?”

And still, the warm body holding you doesn’t move an inch. Not until a familiar, irritated huff sounds, “Get your hands off her, dumbass.”

The body behind you tenses for a split second before obeying, hands ripping themselves away from you as if he’d been scalded. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you murmur with what you hope is a polite smile, only half paying attention because you can hear Iwa striding towards you. In one breath, he’s knocking back your saviour and pulling you into a one armed hug.

“Shittykawa said he’d be bringing you,” he says quietly as you squeeze him back. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been face to face with him. Tooru calls him to catch up most weeks, more often than putting him on speaker so that you can say hi, but it’s not the same. “Didn’t think he meant to the actual village, though.”

You’ve missed him, you realise. Him and Makki and Mattsun, and suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, emotions welling that you can’t name. There’s so much you want to say to him, things he knows but should be said anyway, but–

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your pretty friend, Iwa?”

Your cheeks heat as the two of you part, yet it’s Iwa who answers for the both of you.

“No. You two need to get your asses moving,” he says. “Back to the gym, now. Unless you wanna stay back after everyone else finishes up to run extra drills?”

It’s a clear dismissal, and the two only pause for a heartbeat before grumbling their assent – and one sheepish apology – and heading off to continue their run.

“Let me walk you back.”

Some things never change, you suppose. “Iwa, you have an Olympic team to train,” you tell him with a wry grin. ”I’m not going to risk being accused of sabotaging the Japanese national volleyball team just because you feel the need to be gentlemanly.”

It’s clearly meant as a tease, but instead of the good-natured huff you’re expecting, he sighs. “C’mon. You almost got knocked on your ass, let me walk you back.”

It’s not a suggestion, and as he takes you by the hand and starts leading you back the way you came you’re reminded of high school - he used to do exactly same thing any timeTooru wasn’t around. There’s a slight flicker of irritation at your first breath of fresh air without Oikawa’s overprotective hovering being snatched away, but you know he means well.

He always does.

So you shove those feelings down and offer him a smile. “You know I’m stupidly proud of you, right?” you tell him. “Both of you.”

And something in Iwa relaxes and he laughs, “Yeah well I’m just glad you’re gonna be here to witness me wipe the floor with Shittykawa’s ass.”

—

It’s late, and Tooru isn’t back yet.

And it wouldn’t bother you except that lunch had been hours ago, and your stomach is starting to growl, hunger settling in.

Tooru works hard, he pushes himself and stays late when he should be home resting, you know that, but even if you did want to go and find him, pull him back so that he won’t push past his limits days out from competing, you wouldn’t have a clue where to find him – not in this sprawling maze of a complex.

What else can you do but wait, as fifteen minutes turns into half an hour, then an hour, and suddenly it’s almost nine.

He won’t be happy that you’ve left without him, but either he’ll meet you at the cafeteria, or you’ll get home before he’s back and you’ll have dinner waiting for him. At this time of the night it’s likely to be empty anyway, it’s not like you’re running off in the middle of the dinner rush.

Most of the athletes’ll be back in their rooms, you’re not gonna get knocked around in the mad scramble for food, nobody’s going to pay you any mind.

But once again, you’re proven wrong.

It’s not quite the roaring din that you’ve come to associate with the dining hall, but you can hear a few quiet conversations scattered throughout the room. At least none of them pay you any heed as you slowly wander the buffet, shyly asking one of the servers to help you pick out something for you and Tooru both.

It’s not until you move to take a seat, hoping that Tooru will get there before you have to try and cart his dinner back to the room that you hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair being dragged back beside you.

“Ya know, Iwaizumi never did end up telling us yer name,” a familiar voice states, settling down into the seat. “He did end up making me ‘n Bokuto run extra laps as punishment for knockin’ into ya, though.”

Out of habit, your fingers fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket – Tooru’s actually – warmth flooding your cheeks. He doesn’t sound pissed off by the fact, and you suppose he probably wouldn’t have sat down beside you if all he wanted was to pick a fight.

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” It comes out sounding more like a question than anything else.

He laughs at that, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant. “Nah, not your fault. Iwa’s a hardass at the best of times.”

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed much since high school,” you muse.

Oikawa might’ve been Captain back then, but that never stopped Iwa from slapping him upside of the head whenever he did something particularly stupid. He was a hard ass, but he was also incredible at keeping the rest of the team in line and motivated, and he kept Tooru grounded. He kept you grounded. Aggressive, tough love was simply a part of that.

You wonder distantly if his new team realizes just how lucky they are to have somebody like him in their corner.

“High school? Ya knew him back then?” he prods.

He’s a stranger. Not just a competitor, but ‘The Enemy’ just like Kageyama and Ushiwaka. Out of all the teams that Tooru might go up against during the games, you know that they’re the ones he’s most determined to defeat. And you don’t necessarily buy into the whole ‘destined rivals’ thing – Kageyama was never anything but polite to you, but you know you’re supposed to back your soulmate up on this. You know he’d be pissed to find you casually chatting away with any one of them, except maybe Hinata.

Maybe.

But it’s nice just to indulge in a conversation – even meaningless small talk – with somebody who doesn’t know you as Tooru’s. You can’t help but relax a little, the tension easing from your shoulders, a small smile creeping across your face.

“I’ve known Iwa since I was six years old. He’s one of my best friends.”

The man hums a little, his chair creaking as he leans back, “Really? He’s never mentioned ya.”

And it’s clear from the sharp intake of his breath that he regrets the words the moment they’re said, but instead of feeling offended, you simply laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it.

“It’s fine,” you say when he tries to backtrack. “Do you often have deep and meaningful’s with Iwa about his childhood friends?”

He snorts, “Yeah, point taken, I guess. So how come yer here then? Didn’t think they allowed cheerleaders in the village, even the cute ones.”

Something flutters in your stomach at his tone; it’s warm like honey, just a hint of teasing. He’s flirting, you realise, and in an instant you know you should shut it down. Harmless small talk is one thing, but you’re–

You have your soulmate.

“What makes you think I’m not staff?” you ask instead.

“No uniform,” he counters, and you can’t argue with that. It’s not your fault that you can’t see what everybody’s wandering around wearing. “And you don’t really strike me as the ‘athlete’ type, no offense.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just shrug somewhat self consciously. He’s not wrong; you don’t really belong here, but you find yourself reluctant to tell him the truth.

The only reason you’re here is because Tooru cheated the system, because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

Or maybe because he knows how much of a mess you are without him. Blind and helpless without him to guide you, even here, back in the country you’d both left behind all those years ago.

“I’m here to support my soulmate,” you tell him instead, and it’s not entirely a lie. No matter what, you’ll always support Oikawa – here, back home, to whatever ends. That was the promise you’d made to each other long before you’d ever left Japan.

There’s a short pause, and you take the opportunity to turn back to the plate of food in front of you – you’d forgotten about it entirely. You half expect that he’ll take it as the perfect opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation.

You might’ve been blind, but you’re not naive; you know exactly what athletes get up to after the sun goes down in the village. There’s a reason that your welcome packs were stuffed full of free condoms.

And you’re not interested in that. You have Tooru and he has you. If that’s all that this guy is after; some quick, meaningless fuck, then–

“Volleyball?” he asks, and you almost roll your eyes.

He’s not wrong, of course he’s not, and you suppose considering your connection with Iwa it makes sense that he’d make that leap, but still. One track mind, all of them.

“If I tell you, you might not like me very much,” you say in lieu of an answer.

He leans closer, the chair creaking once more. “So I’m right.” He sounds so smug about it, you almost wanna tell him he’s wrong just to mess with him a little. “What position does he play?”

Not what team, what position. That, more than anything else, mattered to him – and again, you understood it. The pride players took in their position within the machine.

“You first,” you shoot back instead, because you feel like you have a sneaking suspicion.

And with a little huffing laugh, he confirms it, “Setter.”

Of course.

And the smile on your face tugs wider, a strange trill running through you, “Ah, and here I thought Kageyama,” you draw the name out, “was Japan’s starting setter.”

He scoffs, dragged in by your teasing jab, “Yer kiddin’, right? Tobio’s talented an’ all, but he ain’t half the setter I am.”

Cocky and smug. You wonder if he has the skills to back it up. Yet just as you open your mouth to pry further, you’re interrupted by a voice.

Several actually.

“Talking shit again, Miya?”

“Who’s she?”

“Oh hey – Iwa’s friend!”

And your heart skips a beat, your body tensing as those voices close in, more chairs being pulled out, trays of food dumped on the table as his teammates settle down around you. It’s just a name, one name. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t–

“Atsumu, why don’t you shut– oh. Y/N, hey. Didn’t realise you'd be here. Isn’t the village restricted to athletes only?”

Kageyama’s blunt greeting isn’t intended to be antagonistic, but it washes over you regardless. You’re frozen, heart pounding, a sick, twisting feeling settling into your gut.

Atsumu, he’d said.

Miya Atsumu.

Two words, and your world stops spinning.

You’d promised him – Tooru – years ago that the name on your arm didn’t mean anything. It was all just a cruel cosmic mistake because from the moment you met him, you were his, and he was yours and nothing else mattered.

And you’d told yourself that, repeated it like a mantra until you started to believe it yourself. Because Tooru loved you, you were his soulmate and what kind of horrible fucking person would you be to take that gift, that bond and shove it back in his face.

Tooru isn’t perfect, and he’d freaked out and lied to you, but he’s your soulmate.

The name on your arm didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that you didn’t know whose it was, because you had Tooru. It should have been his.

And you told yourself that for six months, until some blowout fight had Tooru storming out, you following in his footsteps.

It was a stranger, some random passerby in the street. You can’t remember what prompted you to stop her and ask, why it suddenly mattered when Tooru had all but convinced you that it didn’t, but you had.

Miya Atsumu. The pronunciation had been unsure, her tongue clunky over the foreign syllables, but in that moment when you’d heard his name every lie you’d convinced yourself of had fallen apart.

It was like you’d been drowning without ever realising it, and the second you’d heard that name a hand was dragging you up to the surface and suddenly air was flooding your lungs.

Miya Atsumu.

There are voices surrounding you, somebody laughing uproariously, but it’s all just white noise.

“Y/N,” a choked, hoarse whisper that shouldn’t have been heard, but it pierces you like a knife, cutting through everything else. It’s too much.

On shaking legs you stand, knocking your chair back as you grab for your cane.

The name hadn’t mattered, until you’d heard it. He hadn’t mattered, until he was standing right there in front of you.

“I– I have to go,” you mutter, not entirely sure if they heard you, or if they even cared. You leave your food untouched on the table, stumbling as you step back.

And again, you hear that whisper of your name. There’s a hand that reaches for you – his or somebody else’s you don’t know, you shrug it off regardless. “I have to go.”

Nobody stops you as you skitter back towards the entrance, but for once the cafeteria is silent. The moment you burst out through the double doors, the brisk, summer night air hits you like a slap, and you don't realise that your cheeks are wet with tears until the breeze cuts through, the damp skin prickling uncomfortably.

And the sob that follows rips through your chest like a knife.

This isn’t what you wanted.

If there’s a god out there, he must have a cruel sense of humour, because your name is being called again, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek brushing at your tears, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Cutie, what’s wrong?”

The scent of him, all citrus and summer, invades your nose as you clutch at him tighter. You can’t speak, can’t find the words to tell him, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and burrow into him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats, not asking this time.

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I want to go home,” you whisper, clutching at his jersey. “I wanna go home, Tooru.”

A kiss brushes against the crown of your head, and you almost miss the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind you – at least until the interloper speaks.

“You–” Atsumu breaks off, his breath ragged and raw, and you don’t miss the way that Oikawa stiffens, his grip tightening, fingers digging in. “Yer my soulmate.”

Three simple words, and everything, everything just falls apart.

Tooru snarls, taking a step back and dragging you with him. “She’s not your anything, Miya. Fuck off.”

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

It hurts, the grip he has on you. He’s trembling, from rage or fear you honestly don’t know, but you can feel his heart pounding a vicious beat as his arms lock around you like a cage.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s my goddamn name on her arm. Let ‘er go, yer hurting her,” he snaps.

“She’s my soulmate, so mind your own business and run off back home.”

You can’t breathe.

“Not when yer hurting her.”

It’s like the floor’s suddenly disappeared from beneath you, and you’re in free fall, hurtling back towards god knows what. Your head’s spinning, your legs feel like jelly, and if Tooru wasn’t holding you up against him, you’re not sure you’d still be standing.

You can’t breathe.

“Leave, right now,” he hisses. “She’s mine. She always has been, and always will be mine!”

You’d promised him that much, hadn’t you?

“Ya don’t scare me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if yer wearing her name on your arm. That’s my soulmate, and you’ll take yer fucking hands off ‘a her.”

You can’t breathe, not as the shouting gets louder and Tooru’s grip gets tighter.

He takes another step back, pulling you with him, and another hiccuping sob catches in your throat. You try to speak, to stop this before it gets any worse, but the words won’t come–

“You’re hurting her!”

“I LOVE HER!” he screams. “I would never, ever hurt her!”

“T–Tooru, please…” you beg. It’s little more than a whisper, and neither one of them seems to hear it.

But somebody else does.

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!”

Iwa, always your second protector, your best and oldest friend, wastes no time in getting between the two of them, shoving Miya back.

“What is wrong with you both?!” he snaps, grabbing you by the wrist and ripping you from Oikawa. And you don’t fight it when he tugs you towards him, a protective arm wrapping around your waist.

You cling to him, like a scared child with tears streaming down your face.

“Iwa–”

“No, shut up. I don’t wanna hear a single word out of either one of you! Not a goddamn word!”

He doesn’t bother berating them in front of you, though you know that’ll come later. He doesn’t say anything to you either, but his hand doesn’t leave yours all the way back to his apartment. Not the one in the village, but the one just outside of the city.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you ask quietly when he drops his keys on the counter.

There’s a beat of silence, and he sighs. “Yeah, I knew.”

It’s hanging in the air between you, like a dark, stormy cloud about to unleash. “Iwa,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, as honestly as he can. “But you’re gonna stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll call Makki and Mattsun and they’ll come and take you back to Sendai for a little while if that’s what you want. You don’t have to see either one of those assholes, not until…”

Not until you figure out how you’re supposed to make this impossible choice.

He squeezes your shoulder as you sniffle. “It’s gonna be alright, whatever you decide to do.”

Neither one of you truly believes that, but what’s left to say?

He hugs you again before he leaves, makes you promise to call if you need him, but you both know you won’t.

Not tonight, not when he has other priorities.

And then you’re alone, sitting on his couch surrounded by blankets with a mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. You know you should try to get some sleep, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, but every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Tooru’s voice had shook, how you’d smiled for Atsumu, that familiar warmth blooming in your chest when the two of you talked and you’d teased him.

And you remember how it was the day Tooru first told you that he loved you, the butterflies in your stomach the first time he’d kissed you, spinning you around and laughing as his lips met yours again and again and again.

How he’d yelled and screamed and fallen apart in your arms that night, begging you not to leave him.

You love him, for better or for worse, you love him.

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, shaking you from your thoughts.

It’s almost 2am, and nobody but Iwa knows you’re here. Nobody should be knocking, and so you sit, frozen in the dark listening as your heart hammers uneasily.

One beat, then two, and then–

“I know you’re in there, just– just please. I need… I need–” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, and there’s a low thud, like his head’s fallen against the door. “Please,” he begs, quieter this time.

There’s another thud.

“I need ya. Don’t lock me out, I’m beggin’.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere atsumu #yandere oikawa #tw toxic behavior #tw implied abuse #blind reader

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

A Hell of a Good Start

Pairing: Kageyama x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Fluff and Smut, Insecure reader, Kageyama is a socially awkward sweetheart

Summary: It's hard not to feel self-conscious when your boyfriend is arguably one of Japan's most attractive professional athletes. But Kageyama is there to prove that there's absolutely nothing for you to be insecure about.

A/N: Dedicating this to @shoyokuns for all the bullying I've put her through since April Fool's 🤣😘

It was only hours after the handsome dark haired man stuttered out some words and chucked a canned latte in your hands, shoving a crumpled piece of paper in your hands, that you realized you had been asked out. And even then you could hardly believe your eyes as you stared at the numerical digits and name scrawled across the receipt.

Kageyama Tobio

He’s a regular at your cafe and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken notice of him. How could you not when he towers above most other Japanese citizens, striking blue eyes and muscular body attracting the attention of many others than just yourself. And if his physical appearance alone wasn’t enough for him to stand out, his usual order definitely would have definitely seared itself into your mind as unusual.

When you had first seen the scowl that seemed to be glued on his face, you had been ready to just pour a hot cup of black coffee. So imagine your surprise when he orders the sweetest latte on the menu, requesting extra milk despite the fact that the white liquid already makes up most of said drink. But oddly it makes sense as he shyly mutters a thank you in a low gruff voice and you realize that he’s just been cursed by a bad case of RBF.

It just makes sense to start having longer small talks and conversations with him, considering how you see him everyday, and although it’s usually fairly one-sided, with little nods of affirmation and grunts of acknowledgement from your customer, you find yourself enjoying his company.

You’ve always been told you’re too nosy and curious for your own good, but one day you can’t help but ask about the sports duffel he carries with him all the time, blinking with wide eyes and shaking your head side to side when he gapes at you, incredulously asking you if you really don’t recognize the team name or logo. The two of you once again have a one-sided conversation, but this time it’s you silently listening and learning, staring at him in amazed amusement as he rambles on and on about volleyball and the Schweiden Adlers. And maybe, just maybe, you can feel a little flutter in your heart as you listen to him go on and on, passion and love evident in his gleaming eyes.

Sports have never been a big part of your life, but you find yourself leaving the volleyball channel on in the background whenever you’re home after that encounter, almost tripping over yourself to get to your couch when you hear Kageyama’s name announced on television, jaw dropping in disbelief when you see ad after ad of reputable companies and famous products using him to market their goods. Turns out your new acquaintance is a much much bigger deal than you had thought.

You tell yourself that what you feel for him is just a little work crush, just a temporary thing that will fade away over time. But it doesn’t, only getting stronger as he begins to open up, beaming in excitement when you shyly tell him you watched some of his matches on TV and although you don’t really understand the sport, you think he looked pretty amazing on the court. It’s easy to believe and hope that it’s mutual interest, when it’s just the two of you alone in that small cafe, but every time you see his face in magazines and billboards across the city, reality sinks in, and you shove your feelings deep down. What could a professional athlete possibly see in you?

A lot more than you had thought, you realize, as you shakily save the digits to your phone, praying to anyone who’s listening that this isn’t just a cruel prank when you press the call button, almost dropping your device in relieved surprise when a familiar voice greets you over the line.

The rest is history as you begin to attend his matches in person and are officially introduced to his teammate, Ushijima Wakatoshi, leaving you wondering if social awkwardness is contagious, but heart warming from your first video chat with Hinata Shoyo, your boyfriend’s best friend, although Kageyama would rather have a ball spiked to his head before ever referring to the orange-haired athlete as such.

Your relationship is sweet, albeit chaotic at times as both of you learn the ropes of dating each other. It never ceases to amaze you that despite how fiery and commanding your lover is on the court, he’s truly a lost puppy just trying to do his best in your dating life. Thank God for how genuine and pure his intentions are, how he never leaves you in doubt about how much he loves and cares for you, even if his actions and words don’t always portray it. And you let out a fond yet exasperated chuckle every time he puts his foot in his mouth around you, giggling in amusement when he immediately tries to backtrack, stuttering and tripping over his words as he tries to apologize and retry wording his compliments and concerns.

But unlike his social mishaps, his physical aptitude seems to stretch farther than just the court and you’re left a flustered mess when calloused hands so naturally find themselves interlaced with yours, when a broad chest is pulling you in for a hug almost like second nature. There’s not a single bit of hesitation or timidness as he holds you close, easily burying his face and nose in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your presence. And this time it’s him who leads the charge as soothing affectionate caresses become more intimate and sensual, until you’re tumbling into bed with him one night.

Kageyama doesn’t have a ton of experience, but what he lacks in that department, he more than makes up for with natural instincts and sharp calculating eyes. It’s almost unreal how attune he is to every little sound and movement you make, discovering places inside and outside of you that even you didn’t know could make you react so viscerally. But you’re thankful for his naivety, thankful he never thinks to question why you always insist on keeping the lights off, why you always distract him when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, why you always position yourself so that your stomach and face are turned away from him as he takes you from behind.

It’s hard not to be insecure about your body when you’re around a professional athlete like Kageyama and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it other than to make sure you’re staying healthy when he questions what you eat, know that he loves how you look regardless of the fact that you’re nowhere near as in shape as he is. But when you see the pretty fangirls who fawn over your boyfriend, when you see the gorgeous models he poses with in advertisements, it’s impossible not to compare. And when the both of you are naked and you see his rippling muscles and Adonis-like figure, all your self-doubts bubble to the surface, boiling and burning you in their wake.

He thinks these things are just your preference and he wants nothing more than to make sure you feel as comfortable and good as possible, so he follows your lead, hands immediately shying away from your shirt when you bring his hands to grope your breasts from over the fabric and ignoring the pout playing on his lips when he can’t see you as clearly as he wants in the dim lighting.

But when he begins to practice with the Japan national team, quietly sipping on his own drink as his teammates get drunk and rowdy at a team happy hour one night, he furrows his brows questioningly as Atsumu and Bokuto ramble on about their sex lives. It’s no surprise to anyone, himself included, that Atsumu prefers it wild in bed, testing out and experimenting with different positions. But what does surprise him is when Bokuto emphatically shakes his head and excitedly rants about how underrated good old vanilla missionary sex is, how there’s something so intimate and beautiful about being able to stare into each other’s eyes as you make love to each other, only to be lightheartedly jeered at and teased for being a romantic by some members of the team.

Yet Kageyama doesn’t pay them any mind, too focused on trying to piece together this new piece of information he’s learned. Missionary? Looking at each other’s faces? Romantic? Intimate? He had assumed that it wasn’t something people liked. You certainly didn’t seem to enjoy the position or eye contact during sex in general. But Bokuto’s eyes had literally sparkled as he had shouted about it and you had always fondly told Kageyama in secret what a romantic sap the owl-like man is. Had he been reading your signals and body language wrong all this time? Were you not enjoying the intimate nights you spent together?

No, that can’t be true and he flushes a bit, remembering your pretty whimpers and lewd moans he’d dragged out of you, the screaming of his name as your body convulsed around him. No, you have been feeling good. He does make you feel good! But then why...why does it feel like he’s missing something?

He’s never been subtle and it’s obvious he’s still deep in thought when he retires to his shared hotel room with Iwaizumi. The green-eyed trainer stares at the setter curiously, unsure whether or not to directly question Kageyama about what’s bothering him. They’ve become much closer ever since reconnecting on the national team and Iwaizumi is fond of the younger man, despite Oikawa’s squawking and whining whenever he even hears the ex-Karasuno setter’s name. But despite their new blossoming friendship, some things don’t change. Kageyama and Iwaizumi have always erred on the more reserved side of the social scale, so the spiky haired ex-ace resigns to stay silent, allowing the setter to come to him as he wishes.

Except Kageyama approaches much sooner than he thought he would and Iwaizumi is stunned speechless by the blunt wording and topic of his question.

“Does your girlfriend like missionary sex?”

There’s silence as blue and green eyes just stare at each other, one pair laced with steely resolve, the other filled with shock and confusion. In any other scenario, Iwaizumi would wonder if this was a joke, maybe even be affronted and scowl at how rude and personal the question is. And yet, as he scans Kageyama over, sees the genuine curiosity and determination in his eyes, he just sighs, wondering how he managed to end up being the trainer of so many social deviants.

“Yes, sometimes.”

“How often do you guys have missionary sex?”

“Are you- Are you taking notes?!”

There’s wrestling, some grunts and growling, a smack on the head, and then there’s silence as Iwaizumi questioningly looks at the younger athlete who’s rubbing his sore forehead, silently demanding answers as he holds the pad of paper and pen Kageyama had been dutifully writing on hostage. He wonders if maybe he should take it easy on him, almost considering this a lost cause, but then words are spilling out of Kageyama’s mouth and he quietly listens, a small knowing smile slipping on his face as the setter nervously explains everything, blushing as he discusses his sex life with his ex-senpai. And then it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to talk, and Kageyama hopefully smiles at the older man when the trainer grins at him, clamping a strong hand on his shoulder reassuringly, telling him that he just needs to talk to you about it and that he’s sure everything will be just fine once you two discuss it over.

But he is a bit confused by the last word of advice his senpai gives him.

“And Kageyama, make sure you remind your girlfriend that you think she’s beautiful.”

Of course you’re beautiful. Perfect, really. Why would he need to tell you that? Isn’t it obvious?

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, an amused grin on his face when he sees the clear confusion on Kageyama’s face at his parting words. But he sleeps easy, confident that the two of you will be just fine.

You’re not sure what’s transpired at Kageyama’s latest training camp with the Japan national team, but you can feel your lover’s eyes practically piercing you with how hard they study you, relentlessly trailing your figure, an unsaid question heavy in the air. The tension is thick and you tiptoe around the elephant in the room, wondering exactly what has your boyfriend so on edge and just when it becomes unbearable, just when you’re about to confront him directly, he moves first and it takes every reflex you have not to drop the cup of water you have in your hand.

“You’re beautiful.”

Kageyama is not expecting or ready for the torrential flood that is now running from your eyes and all he can do is rush towards you, clutching you tightly in his arms, apologizing profusely (although he’s unsure exactly what he should be sorry about). But blubbered words escape alongside the salty tears and the athlete listens to every syllable, arms almost crushing you, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, his own heart shattering when he hears the self-doubt and self-hate you’ve been suffering through alone. And soon both of you are sobbing messes as Kageyama tells you over and over again how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, how he loves you just the way you are, repeating himself until his throat is sore and you’re pushing the glass of water you had set aside to his dry lips.

This time as he gently pulls you with him towards your shared bedroom, he adjusts the lights until he can clearly see you, slowly coaxing you with reassuring kisses and tender caresses until he feels the tension in your shoulders relax. Neither of you can keep count of just how many times Kageyama tells you how beautiful you are, but it’s never enough for your greedy praise-starved ears and he softly smiles at how you seem to relax and melt more and more into his touches with every praise that falls from his lips. He doesn’t stop praising you as he gradually pushes the fabric of your shirt up, only pausing to intimately kiss, taste, and touch every inch of newly exposed skin he’s privy to. But then there’s silence when he finally hooks the material off of you and he just stares, breath caught in his chest as he takes in the sight of you laid completely bare before him for the first time.

Your hands move to cover yourself, face turning away, unable to hold his intense gaze, feeling so vulnerable and exposed. But your neck whips back to look above you when calloused hands carefully, but firmly grasp your wrists, laying them back down besides you, eyes still roaming over your naked figure. Your heart races at the love and hunger you see in cobalt eyes and suddenly you can’t tear your eyes away from him, lost in endless blue.

It’s almost sinful how good it feels, how much more sensual the slowness and explorative nature of your skin on skin dance feels and you curse yourself for having denied yourself this pleasure all this time as Kageyama’s lips swallow your hardened nipples, hot tongue circling and lapping at the sensitive bud, sucking in a way that has you writhing underneath him, whimpering when you see hazy blue eyes lustfully studying you. And when he finally enters you after what feels like a lifetime of foreplay and teasing, your body more riled up than it’s ever been, humiliating whines for more slipping past your lips, too filled with desire to be even remotely self-conscious, you swear you almost cum just from his cock sliding balls deep inside of you.

The two of you have arguably done filthier things, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you when he has you on all fours doggy-style underneath him, when you’re riding on top of him in reverse cowgirl. But as your eyes lock onto each other while you’re connected below, both of you can’t deny that there’s a new level of intimacy, of arousal, that makes even the most minute movements feel amplified, every shift of hips and the slightest brushes of skin against skin flooding both of you with dizzying pleasure.

There’s no rush or urgency to completion like there normally is when the two of you chase your ends and it’s a slow and gradual crescendo, every note and every key painstakingly and reverently played. Hips slowly grind against each other, Kageyama’s cock dragging against your sopping wet walls, lips melding against each other as you languidly kiss each other all the while. You can feel a powerful buildup rising inside of you, something fuller, more overwhelming than even the mind blowing pleasure Kageyama always bestows upon you. And when he pulls his mouth away from yours, laces his fingers with yours as his hips begin to increase their pace, snapping harder as he feels his own end approaching, he bends down and murmurs into your ear, a mantra of how beautiful you are, how much he loves you.

That’s all it takes, that low baritone voice filling your senses, his words the last push you need. You’re free falling, convulsing, gripping him tightly, walls clamping down around his pistoning cock and he loses any control or restraint he had as he desperately observes you, trying to brand every twitch of your face, every sound you make into his memory. If he thought you were beautiful before, you’re absolutely breathtaking like this, a face expression so purely filled with your essence, so raw, so unimpeded by any inhibitions. And he joins you over that pleasurable cliff, ignorant of how your own eyes just as greedily take in the sight of his chiseled face contorted in bliss, Adama’s apple on full display as he throws his head back.

The two of you bask in the post-coital haze, bodies feeling boneless as Kageyama carefully lays slightly to the side of you, lower bodies still intimately connected, one of his legs thrown over yours as he affectionately holds your still trembling body to his, both of you panting and melting into the cushioned mattress. It feels safe and comforting in his arms and you allow yourself to nuzzle even closer to him, almost sinking into his warmth and letting exhaustion overtake you.

But as the leftover tendrils of pleasure begin to fade away, your senses become more alert and you nervously bite your lower lip, the exposed nature of your still naked figure suddenly all too apparent to you. You subtly reach for the blankets, trying not to accidentally awaken the slumbering man still tucked against you as you attempt to cover yourself, eyes darting around for your clothes, desperate to hide yourself and shield your body from view once again.

Old habits and insecurities don’t just change overnight after all.

You’re so focused on your tasks at hand that you don’t notice blue eyes blearily blinking, trying to make sense of all the little shuffling that had awakened him. But you yelp when you’re suddenly made immobile by two strong arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you snugly against a toned chest once more.

“Tobio! Let me go put on pajamas at least.”

You flush when Kageyama pointedly stares down at his own completely naked body before staring at yours, a deadpan expression on his face as he inquisitively gazes at you.

“I- Uh...I’m cold! Yeah, I’m cold-”

There’s nothing convincing in your tone as you stammer out the excuse, too embarrassed to voice the real reason out loud when Kageyama had done nothing but reassure you and make you feel like the most stunning woman in the world, even if it was just temporary. But before you can spiral any further, your thoughts are cut off by a fluffy comforter blanketing and enveloping both Kageyama and you, the setter already re-closing his eyes after deeming you sufficiently tucked in and “covered”, although your self-consciousness begs to differ as your bare skin brushes against your lover.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if sensing your thoughts, one blue eye peeks open and you’re silenced by a stern “go to sleep”, strong arms wrapping around you even more tightly than before, keeping you still. And you can’t help but smile, shaking your head in fond exasperation as Kageyema’s stubbornness wins out over any self-doubt festering inside of you this time around, letting yourself find peace and security in his arms.

Old habits and insecurities don’t just go away overnight, but this is a hell of a good start.

#haikyuu smut #kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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salemwritesxx · 4 years ago

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𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰.

𝔹 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌 𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀

⇴ male reader [pro-hero] ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary: You are Katsuki’s little secret, since he can’t be open about your relationship. Inevitably, all falls apart eventually when you want to attend the pride parade in Tokyo and you want Bakugou to come with you.

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: bakugou being insecure about his sexuality, an argument/fight break-up in the beginning but fluffy at the end, coming out, fluff

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“I just don’t understand why you won’t come with me?!”

“You know damn fucking well why!”, Katsuki argued back, his already loud voice reaching it’s peak. You had been fighting for quite some time.

“I just don’t know why the fuck you keep being so… stubborn! UGH!”, you really had to hold yourself back to not punch the next wall, thus you went away from the situation into the living room. Katsuki, however, following you immediately.

“You knew when we started dating that I… I can’t be open about this stuff!”, he screamed again, though became quieter at the end. His stiff shoulders relaxing a little when he sighed.

“Why can’t you understand and fucking respect that??”

“Look!”, you suddenly stood up again, meeting him eye to eye, “I understand, okay?! I know not everyone can be open, but fuck- Katsuki. It’s been almost a year since we started dating??”

You sighed and rubbed over your face before falling back into the couch.

“I just thought this time around I could already openly show my affection towards you.”

Bakugou felt guilty and bad. He knew he wasn’t easy to date. Always being cautious no one would see or notice. Always hiding. Just so no one would find out Bakugou Katsuki was into men. He knew he hurt you.

“I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t…”, he barely mumbled, then also sighed.

“Okay. Fine.”, and Bakugou really thought that’s it when you said that, but…

“And I am sorry but I can’t continue this relationship.”

And it truly was like someone punched him in his face and kicked him in his balls all at the same time.

“Wha- Wai- I- What?”, he stammered, ruby eyes widened.

“You heard me. I’m sorry. But I am done being treated like your dirty little secret.”, you said, and with that, you stood up and walked past him.

----

“HEEYY BRO!”, your friend shouted while semi-walking and kind of dancing towards you with two alcoholic drinks in his hand.

The music was loud. The temperature gruesome. But seeing so many people, proud and happy, made you also happy. It was also a nice way to try and forget what happened last week, the inevitable break up with your boyfriend… and you really thought you could give him strength to come out eventually.

“Thanks, Aki.”, you said, more shouted against the music, when he gave you something to drink.

While faking a small smile, you watched as he danced back into the crowd as you just walked on the sidelines, wishing that you could have brought Bakugou with you and just enjoy this moment. How much you yearned to just drink and be cute with your boyfriend during this parade so everyone could see and he wouldn’t care.

But it wasn’t that simple and it wasn’t your responsibility to force him out of the closet. But… it WAS your responsibility to do what was best for yourself and you knew you couldn’t keep on waiting.

Bakugou knew he had to do something. He loved you. And he wasn’t willing to give up on you or the relationship you had. Katsuki wanted to be together with you. He also knew very well that he shouldn’t be hiding anymore. He had been scared people wouldn’t want to be saved by him anymore, that his career as a hero would die if he was open about his sexuality, but… you had always been open. And yet, you were, just like him, in the Top Ten of Japan’s Pro-Heroes and there had never been an instance where someone commented on your sexuality negatively.

Maybe, he just lied to himself. People were much more accepting, even praising you for being an idol to young queer kids. But, for him, not wanting people to know you were together was safer than having to break up and explain things, yet… Katsuki was ready to get you back and tell everyone he loved you. No more hiding. No more lies. Just being honest and open and vulnerable.

But for god’s sake getting through this fucking crowd was almost impossible.

“Fucking Jesus, where the hell are you?!”, he growled to himself while hastily looking around. So many people. How did he think he was able to find you in such a big parade?

And it was so damn hot, too. Ugh! Why couldn’t he realize all of these things a few days ago, then he could have easily walked up to your door and talk to you, but no. Then again, Bakugou DID want to prove to you he was ready to change, so there was no better place than during this parade. Though, if he couldn’t find you, everything was in vain.

“KitKat…”

When he heard those words, a jolt went through his body, making Katsuki stand there stiffly for a few seconds, just to slowly turn around in the end. There was only one person who was able to utter this nickname without getting murdered.

You stared at him in disbelief just as much as he stared back at you with wide eyes and in shock. He wasn’t prepared to suddenly be found and not be the one finding you.

“What are you do-“, you wanted to ask, however, were interrupted by Bakugou sprinting towards you and into your arms. And it felt right holding him again – fuck.

“Wait, Kat-“

But before you could say anymore, he had grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him, connecting your lips in the middle of the streets while people were walking past you. Some even cheering and howling while doing so.

It was just a short kiss, before he pulled back to look into your [eye.color] eyes.

“I love you, [Your.name]. And I’m sorry. I know you deserve better, like fuck, look at me. I am trash.”

“You’re hot trash though.”, you teased him with a grin, thankfully making him snort and playfully punch you.

“I will be open. No more hiding. Life’s too fucking short to worry about what others think. Sorry it took so long to understand. Can you forgive me?”

The music was still blasting, the crowd cheering, yet, you heard him perfectly and it really warmed your heart. Thus, with a smile on your lips, you nodded.

“Yeah. Forgiven and Forgotten.”

So, you pulled him closer, your arms wrapped around his smaller frame as your lips collided once more, not caring about anything or anyone other than the man in your arms. And for Bakugou it wasn’t any different. He had never cared about anyone before, about their presumptions about him becoming a villain with his quirk, or him not being suited to be a hero, so why was he so hung up about being gay? Fuck it if anyone knew.

He wasn’t going to hide in any closet ever again.

And as he grabbed your hand to march alongside you while singing and drinking – Katsuki knew it was the right decision and he would never regret it.

---

The next morning, he found himself hugged against your body while your head was snuggled into his pecs, which elicit a small snort from him. Yeah… waking up like that was something he had missed the last week. As he looked to the side though, Katsuki saw his phone blinking and lighting up wildly – something was going on.

And soon, he found out what had been going on. His agency was calling and he was tagged in way too many Twitter posts, because someone had snapped a photo of him and you yesterday during the pride parade, embraced and kissing. This was now going around the internet. But for once, he didn’t give a fuck about it.

Instead, he fueled the fire when he flopped back into the bed and snapped a photo of himself, flipping them off and with you visibly cuddling him. His caption: Just woke up like this. Happy Pride Month, fuckers!

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: happy pride month y’all, let’s be loud and proud of who we are 🌈 usually I believe baku wouldn’t give two fucks about what others think about him, but for the sake of this story I might have made him a bit ooc

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou x you #gay pride #male reader

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justoneacatperson · 3 years ago

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First Date

This is reupload from my old blog!

request by @therealpotatobish

TodoDeku x Fem! Reader

Date with Todoroki and Midoriya is, to put it mildly - chaos. Where do I start?

First we have Todoroki. Very handsome young man with two-tone hair and eyes. We all know that Shoto is not familiar with many things, his childhood was not very colorful and rosy, not at all.

He has not seen his parents take care of each other or behave like a couple, so he is not very familiar with how to treat a person he likes.

He didn’t even realize he liked Midoriya when he was still a student at U.A. It was good that there were his sister to explain to him what those feelings were.

We have already seen that he takes things seriously and does not understand jokes or metaphors, so it takes time to work with him.

Certainly his relationship with Izuku helped him a lot. He showed him what love, care and empathy are, but for him things are complicated again. He and Izuku will date a woman, a woman they have been in love with since their school years in the U.A. Shoto doesn’t know how to treat a woman and what they would like.

We also have the next one, namely Midoriya. Our broccoli boy has remained the same shy young man, despite his fame as the new No.1 hero, this part of him has not changed.

He would certainly do better than Todoroki, but his still shy nature worries him that he won’t be able to talk to you.

They are both worried about your reaction to everything. They have never heard that you like someone, nor have there been rumors that you are with someone, they didn’t even know if you like boys !? Nevertheless, you accepted their invitation to a date, at least they managed to make it clear that they were inviting you to a date, a DATE, and you were fine with that.

Now was the date where they would know if they had a chance with you, and here they were, sitting at the reserved table, waiting for you to come.

21:27p.m

Deku kept a close eye on his watch, looking at every minute. They had arrived about ten minutes ago and were sitting nervously at the table, well, Izuku was moving nervously, and Shoto was sitting meekly, staring at one dot, trying to keep his mind tidy and clear.

-“She will come, Midoriya, our dateis at 9:30p.m.” Todoroki exclaimed, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand under the table to reassure him.

-“Ah, I know, Shoto-san, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous.” the green-haired man replied, smiling at his partner. -“We have been waiting for a long time for the chance to invite her and the fact that she agreed and now we will have a date makes me feel surreal. It’s as if I’ve finally reached a goal that I thought was impossible. It’s very strange that happens, I still consider it unrealistic.”

The two-colored man looked at him with surprised heterochromic eyes. Despite their years together, the things they went through could not be compared to that. And the fact that Deku feels that way surprises him. He is also surprised that he was able to describe how he felt too.

It felt like he was 17 again in his 2nd year at U.A. When he shared his feelings to Midoriya. Confused, scared, excited. He never believed that he would fall in love or be able to be a partner, the love of someone else.

A small smile crept across his face. Todoroki leaned over to his partner, leaning his head on his shoulder. Their physique has changed and evolved over the years. Already in his mid-twenties, Deku had grown much taller than his school years. He was now towering over Shoto.

Midoriya smiled, leaning against Shoto, planting a kiss on his white and red hair. The two parted, looking up at a door that could be heard opening and closing. 20:30, you arrived just in time.

You looked around the restaurant in confusion, looking for your table. Midoriya instinctively raised his hand, waving at you and shouting. -“(Y/n)-chan!” you looked up at them, a wide smile appeared on your face, bringing butterflies into the stomachs of both heroes.

-“Hey, Deku, Sho!” you replied, going to them.

Midoriya wanted to make a good impression by taking your jacket and pulling your chair backward to sit, but you came like a whirlwind, sitting hastily in the seat in front of them. Obviously there will be no good first impression.

-“Oh, I was in such a hurry so as not to be late.” you started, removing your jacket, leaving it on the back of the chair. - “I was nervous not to be late because there was a traffic jam on the road. After I managed to park it took me time to find the restaurant and…”

Deku waved his arms in front of him, trying to reassure you that you weren’t late, sharing his own worries about not being late. So you two became a muttering mess, and Todoroki rested his chin on his hand, happily watching the scene in front of him. Cute.

-“You are not late, you have nothing to worry about.” the two-colored man called out of nowhere, stopping you and Izuku.

-“It’s good to know.” you said calmly, leaving your hands on the table. -“Long time no see.”

-“Since our graduation in the U.A.” added the green-haired man, rubbing the back of his head.

-“What’s happen with you? I last heard you joined Selkie’s agency.” you nodded in agreement to Shoto.

-“Yes, my quirk would be very welcome in sea battles.”

-“Are you adapting fast?” Deku asked cheerfully.

-“Yes, the hero Manual is there too. We have some pretty similar quirks, so he was so kind to help me adapt.” you replied, controlling the water in your glass with your quirk, making it take the shape of a snake and move along the walls of your glass in a circle.

-“This is very good.” exclaimed the hero, tying his hands on the table.

They both felt a little awkward, not knowing how to continue the conversation, fortunately the waitress saved them by giving them the menus. You opened the menu of hard leather covers, looking at the variety of foods.

-“Oh, hey, Sho, they have a cold soba.” you said excitedly, showing him the menu on the first page.

-“So I’ll order a cold soba.” the two-colored man replied before receiving muttering from Midoriya.

-“But, Sho, we have a whole pot full of soba!” you laughed at their interaction, attracting their attention.

-“What?” they both asked at the same time.

-“Nothing, you just haven’t changed since we graduated from the U.A.” you said with a laugh. Deku giggled too, smiling at you.

-“What do you mean? We look the same way we did 7 years ago?” Todoroki asked confusedly, looking at himself and his boyfriend and again to himself. You and Izuku looked at each other and almost fell from your seats with your boisterous laughter. -“Ah?”

-“O-oh…. Sho!” tears formed in the corners of your eyes, wiping them with your hand. -“You’re still funny!”

-“Funny?”

-“Yes.” the green-haired man replied, leaning his head on his partner’s shoulder.

The three of you ordered a teishoku, receiving it in about 30 minutes. Everyone enjoy their food before Todoroki calls.

-“(Y/n), do you see our old class?” you swallowed your food before answering.

-“Yes, even with some very often.” you said, playing with your chopsticks, twisting them between your fingers and doing tricks with them. -“Most often I go out with Kaminari, by some chance it turned out that we work in the same agency.”

-“Kaminari-san?” Deku exclaimed, looking at you in astonishment. You nodded, uttering a little “Uhm.”

-“All right, that’s nice! We haven’t heard from Denki.”

-“Are you close to each other?” Shoto asked, taking another bite of his meal.

-“I’d say yes. We go out often, we message to each other, he’s very cute. He’s also grown a lot from UA, he’s become more responsible and he controls his quirk much better. We have a lot of fun together. We have dinners for us, in which we are on the couch at my or his home and eating popcorn while watching scary movies. "you said with a smile on your face.

-"Oh, I understand…” Todoroki replied, bowing his head over his food, hiding his face through his hair, which he had left to grow for reaching a length where he could tie it in a bun.

Izuku reached under the table, gripping his boyfriend’s thigh, rubbing it lightly to offer support. He knew his boyfriend’s lack of confidence in relationships. He has always worried about whether he is doing well as a partner and doing everything right.

Talking about a boy (and you’re not the person who talks a lot or often about people, especially boys), who is the opposite of his personality and sees that you’re really having fun with him, feels like someone hit him with wet rag across the face.

-“And you guys…” you called, bringing them both back to reality. -“How are you? The press is very interested in your relationship.” you smiled slyly.

-“So… After we graduated from UA, Shoto and I went to Endeavor’s agency, as his partners in catching villains. That was until we turned 22, All Might offered to take his agency… And I took it.” he replied, scratching the back of his head where his undercut was. -“The press found out about my relationship with Todoroki when I took the agency and there were hundreds of news stories that said, ‘Hero No.1 is in a relationship with Endeavor’s son’.”

-”O!?”

-“Yes, and still receives dozens of emails a day, invitations for interviews about our relationship.”

-“It’s too much for you. The press hasn’t learned for so many years that the heroes have a private life that they usually keep to themselves and don’t want to make it public. The personal space of the heroes must be respected.” you said and turned to Todoroki. -“And for so many years as a pro-hero, people have kept leading you the 'son of Endeavor,’ and that’s all you’re known for.”

-“It’s annoying.” Todoroki replied, making you and Deku giggle a little.

-“Well, those are just words from older people in Japan.” the green-haired man exclaimed, rubbing his boyfriend’s thigh. -“I am sure that the young generation will remember you with your name and your deeds.”

-“You’re right.” said his partner.

-“Ah, (Y/n)-san, do you happen to be in a relationship or dating someone?” Midoriya asked you. Shoto immediately ran one hand under the table, squeezing his thigh - too early, Midoriya.

-“O!?” you opened your eyes wide to them from the sudden question. -“No, I’m not in a relationship, I’m not dating anyone. Why do you ask?”

-“Uhhh…” and now was the scariest part of this meeting - to tell you. Shoto looked at Izuku out of the corner of his eye, looking for an answer as to what to do. -“With Shoto we wanted to ask you something…”

-“Yes…” you said under your breath.

-“Would you like to be with us?” Todoroki asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair.

You and Deku looked shocked at the two-colored man. You dropped your chopsticks as you watched Sho like you saw a ghost. Izuku immediately started waving his arms, trying to reassure you, saying that they were not forcing you to be in relationship with them, that they would not be in a hurry, that they would not be angry if you refused, and ect.

It just took you a moment to process Shoto’s question. They wanted to date you? Really? You were like close friends during your school years, but you didn’t think they had any other than platonic feelings about you. They were both open and comfortable, both shy and anxious around you or when talking to you. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for them in the U.A., but once you found out they were in a relationship, it discouraged you a lot.

-“So?” Todoroki called again.

-“Sho, calm down, give her ti…”

-“Yes.” you replied, getting “Uh!?” from them. - “I accept, I would like to date you.”

-“Really?” Midoriya asked in surprise.

-“Yes…” you said, tying your hands on the table. -“I would just ask for time to get used to, as this will be my first relationship in my life, especially with more than one person.”

-“We’ll give you all the time you need.” Todoroki said, taking your hand in his. Where did you get this confidence? - Izuku wondered.

-”Thanks.”

-“So… should we continue our dinner to celebrate our relationship?” the green-haired man asked cheerfully.

-“Yes!” you and Shoto answered at the same time.

#bnha poly #mha poly #tododeku #tododeku x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader

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bloomyagi · 4 years ago

Text

beautiful, beloved, mine (m)

summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.

pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader

genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+

warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby

length: 2,447

notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -

“Can I be yours?”

Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.

You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.

The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.

The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.

No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.

He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.

Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.

“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”

“What is?”

The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”

Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.

“Todoroki, are you drunk?”

“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.

He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.

“You never … why me?” You say softly.

“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.

“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.

“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.

“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.

Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.

You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.

“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.

He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”

“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”

“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.

“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.

“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.

“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.

You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.

“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.

His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”

Your heart swells.

“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”

He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.

“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”

You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.

“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.

This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.

Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.

“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.

You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”

And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.

Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.

“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”

You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.

“Shouto. You like this?”

He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—

“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.

Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.

“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.

Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”

“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.

“I—I d-don’t—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.

“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”

Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.

He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.

You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.

“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.

“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.

He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.

“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.

His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.

He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.

“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.

“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.

Faintly, you register someone calling your name.

“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”

Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear

“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.

What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.

“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.

Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.

“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.

His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.

“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.

“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.

“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.

“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?

“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”

You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.

“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”

“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”

“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.

You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.

“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

#shoto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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silverynight · 3 years ago

Text

Dead end

Tanjirou has come to the conclusion that running away towards the big city was a mistake. He's never seen so many people before; it's overwhelming. Nezuko is grabbing his hand hard, almost painfully, although Tanjirou has learned to endure pain in the two years that he stayed with Urokodaki.

Nezuko pulls, managing to draw his attention away from the bakery and back to her. Almost desperately, she makes a few gestures with her hands, pointing in the direction of the mountain.

He sighs, feeling sad inside; he'd like to hear her voice again, but she has refused to speak a word since their family was killed. He's never pressed her though.

"You know we can't go back," Tanjirou mumbles, feeling bad for causing her sorrow. "I miss him too, but you know they're looking for us so he'll probably be safer alone."

Sighing, Nezuko nods, hugs his brother and keeps walking next to him, trying not to collide with the people around and holding his hand.

She's not the only one wishing they could go back, he's constantly thinking about it. Once he thought they could be happy there, in that small village with Urokodaki, but for some reason the people that killed their family also wanted to kill them both.

Tanjirou doesn't understand; Urokodaki said the man behind it was the leader of a crime syndicate and that his name was Muzan. There were two crime groups in Japan; the one led by Kibutsuji and the other by nine people who were called the hashira.

"The Pillars are skilled swordsmen; you'll never find people more capable than them in combat," Urokodaki explained one night. "But they're also dangerous in their own ways."

Urokodaki taught him how to fight with a katana during those two years; he insisted it was necessary in case Kibutsuji came back for him (and he was right).

However, since the katana was Urokodaki's Tanjirou left it behind, instead he brought an axe and hoped for the best.

Nezuko stops; she's blinking, trying to stay awake. They're both tired and hungry and even though Tanjirou would love to get something to eat, he needs to find a place where they both can spend the night first.

Tomorrow he needs to get a job.

His money is not enough to pay for a night in the first place they find. Tanjirou offers himself for any kind of job, but the owner claims he doesn't need more employees at the moment.

"I know a place where you can get money though," he grins, looking over his shoulder. "If you're willing to let your girl work."

Confused, he looks up at the man, who steps into the light to look closely at him.

"I also know a place for pretty boys like you," he adds, taking Tanjirou's chin. "Someone like you can get more than a few coins for spending a night with–"

Moving away from the man, as Tanjirou starts to blush, he runs away from there as quickly as possible.

"I think this was a mistake," he tells Nezuko.

He definitely doesn't like the city.

The second place they arrive to is even worse, not because of how it looks, but due to what they find out when they get there.

"I'm not sure," the woman mumbles, eyeing at them both. "I haven't seen you around here before. The hashira have strict rules when it comes to people from outside the city."

"The hashira?" Tanjirou shivers, feeling suddenly exposed; he looks around, nervous.

"This city belongs to them."

They need to go back immediately. Grabbing Nezuko's hand, he begins to run in the opposite direction, however in his desperation he ends up in a dark alley with a dead end.

"Alright. We just need to turn around," he mumbles, feeling nervous.

"The boy with the hanafuda earrings!" A voice says, amusement ringing in it. "Finally! My Lord Kibutsuji will be happy when I bring your head to him!"

There's a boy with her as well. He's carrying a couple of daggers while she's bouncing two temari in her hands.

"They're coming after me," he mumbles, almost in relief. "Listen, Nezuko, I want you to hide and wait for the perfect opportunity to run away. I'll try to distract them."

Nezuko narrows her eyes, she's fuming, angry at the thought of leaving him behind. She gestures something about never leaving him.

Even though he appreciates it, Tanjirou would've preferred her to choose running away.

However, there's no time to argue. He turns around with the axe in his hand, but a temari passes right over his shoulder. At first Tanjirou believes the girl missed, but when he hears Nezuko's scream and sees her fall to the ground he almost runs towards her.

He can't, there's no time. He charges at the girl quickly, dodging a temari as he runs, only to realize that the boy plans to stab Nezuko even though she's unconscious on the ground.

Without thinking twice, he throws the axe and cuts the boy's arm off; Tanjirou doesn't really like hurting others, but if Nezuko's life is in danger, he knows he'll do anything to keep her safe.

Even though the boy is bleeding because of the wound, he still tries to attack Tanjirou again.

The girl cackles in such a way before running towards his fallen sister at the same time the other tries to reach him, Tanjirou knows he will only have the time to block her attack.

But then, from the roof of the house next to the alley a shadow jumps in front of the Kamado siblings. The young man doesn't say a word as he moves his katana with such ability that it makes impossible for Tanjirou to follow the attack. In the blink of an eye he cuts their heads without even uttering a word.

They both fall to the ground, making Tanjirou gasp and think how glad he is that Nezuko is unconscious at the moment. Quickly, he gets closer and doesn't think too much before taking her in his arms. He wonders if he could run past the swordsman and back into the noisy streets.

However, the young man turns around and looks back at him. Tanjirou curls over Nezuko, trying to protect her with his own body.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or your sister, Tanjirou," he says, surprising him. The young man has black, long hair and blue eyes that don't let any emotion to be reflected in them. Well, perhaps... irritation. They're shadowed with it at the moment. "You should've stayed with Urokodaki."

"How do you know that? How do you know my name?" Tanjirou asks, flinching away when he sees the man with the mismatched haori moving his katana quickly to clean it up. When it's back into its saya, he allows himself to relax... just a little.

"I'm Tomioka Giyuu," he introduces himself, moving even closer. "I'm the one who saved you that day."

No... That's not possible. Well, Tanjirou only remembers falling on the snow from exhaustion, looking for a place where someone could patch her sister up and then... nothing.

He woke up in Urokodaki's house the next day. He just assumed...

"Come with me."

Before he can say anything, two people arrive to the scene; Tanjirou imagines them screaming and calling the police, but instead of even glancing in the corpses' direction, they bow in front of Tomioka respectfully.

"Clean the area," he mumbles and both man and woman nod, before using bandages to cover the corpses completely.

Tomioka is... He must be...

"I'm afraid you and your girl got in trouble in the wrong city, sweet boy," a young woman with a haori that reminds him of butterfly wings chuckles. Tanjirou notices that she's also carrying a sword, although it looks like a small one. "You're in hashira territory now. And you brought Kibutsuji's assassins here. Now you must face all the Pillars."

"Please... I just need to get my sister to a doctor. I promise we'll go after that and you'll never see us again."

"It's too late now," she grins gently at him at the same time Tomioka walks in the middle of them. "Oh? You've broken a few rules already, Giyuu. Do you want to break more?"

"Shinobu, he's... I'm sure they won't cause us any more trouble if we let them–"

"He needs to be judged by all the hashira, Tomioka," another young swordsman appears out of nowhere, he has a white snake around his neck; his mouth is covered.

Tomioka nods, knowing they don't have a choice now, but he gets closer to Tanjirou as if trying to shield him from the other two.

"Come," he says, as kindly as possible.

"But Nezuko is bleeding..."

"Don't worry," Shinobu smiles, clapping her hands together. "I'll take care of that."

Two people arrive and pry Nezuko away from Tanjirou. He tries to fight them, but Tomioka puts a strong hand over his shoulder to stop him.

"She'll be fine," he assures him.

However, Tanjirou knows that he's completely trapped now; if they have Nezuko he won't have other choice but to do as they say.

***

The house they walk in is huge. Tanjirou ends up sitting on the floor in a room with dim light and a table in the middle. Tomioka and Shinobu get in the room right next to it.

They don't even tell him to stay; they must know he would never leave without his sister.

He's worried, however, he doesn't get scared until he catches a few sentences of the conversation.

"See? Giyuu is putting his life at risk for them."

"That doesn't mean anything, Tengen! They mean trouble if Kibutsuji is after them."

"We're not afraid of him, Sanemi."

"No, we're not, but we also don't interfere in other people's problems."

"Besides, why do we do with Tomioka? He hid them from us all this time."

"Obanai has a point!"

"I saw the girl! She's so pretty! Is her the one you're doing this for, Giyuu? That's so romantic!"

"It's the boy, Mitsuri," Shinobu is the only voice Tanjirou recognizes because Tomioka hasn't said anything yet. Still, nothing they've been saying makes any sense to him. The only thing he's sure about is that he's in trouble. "He's doing this for Tanjirou."

"Now I'm curious, Kocho."

"Let's see him then!"

The door slides open and Tanjirou doesn't have time to react when nine people walk inside. All of them are carrying katanas.

He looks down, but a huge hand grabs him by the chin to make him look up at them.

"Hey! Be careful!"

"Calm down, Giyuu. You know me, I'd never hurt such a pretty thing like this one," the one speaking has white hair tied up in a ponytail and what it looks like a headband with a couple of gemstones all over it. His eyes are deep pink. He's one of the tallest among them.

"Come on, stand up, my boy. Let us see you!" Another says, putting both arms over his shoulders, lifting him like he weighed nothing to help him stand. His voice is loud, although the thing that surprises him the most about him is his hair and eyes. They're like fire: yellow and red. It's really difficult for Tanjirou to look away from him. "I'm Rengoku Kyojuro!"

"Kamado Tanjirou," he mumbles, after a couple of them introduce themselves.

"I want to keep him," Tokito says after a while. Uzui looks back at him with amusement.

"He's my responsibility now."

"I'm sorry, Giyuu, but you know the rules here. You too, Muichiro," Rengoku grins, cupping Tanjirou's face in his hands. Even though he knows he's in front of one of the leaders of a crime syndicate, he feels safe for a couple of seconds. "If we keep him, he's going to be under everyone's protection."

"What about Nezuko? Is she going to be alright? Will you protect her as well?"

Rengoku nods, stroking Tanjirou's hair. Right next to him, Tomioka's shoulders tense.

"Of course, but you owe us now, Tanjirou."

That's all it takes to remind himself that he's in front of dangerous people.

"I understand, I'll do my best to–"

"I can pay off his debt," Tomioka offers, surprising Tanjirou again.

"You know we don't want money, Giyuu," Shinobu says, waving her hand dismissively.

"And we want nothing from you," Tokito adds, almost bored.

"What do you want?" Tanjirou asks, nervous, even though he notices that a few of them are looking down at him with a fond expression.

Without giving him any warning, Uzui takes him in his arms, prompting Tanjirou to wrap his arms and legs around him out of instinct.

"We want to welcome you to our family," the hashira grins, confusing him.

It's hard to see them as dangerous criminals when they act like that.

"I'll introduce you to my wives..."

"Wait! I want to see Nezuko."

"Of course, my boy!" Rengoku nods, taking him away from Uzui who pouts immediately. Tomioka looks irritated, but he follows them close anyway.

She's not awake yet, but she looks much better now. She has a bandage all around her forehead and new clothes. Two girls are right there taking care of her, as soon as they see the hashira though, they start bowing nervously.

Rengoku puts Tanjirou on the bed and the boy leans to take one if Nezuko's hand in his. Tomioka kneels next to him.

"You'll be safe here, Tanjirou. I'll protect you."

He nods, feeling better despite of knowing his mother would never have approved of something like that. But what other choice does he have? If being with the hashira means Nezuko can be safe, then he'll accept it.

"You selfish, stubborn bastard! Didn't you hear, Giyuu?" Shinazugawa huffs. "We will protect the siblings from now own. Tanjirou owes us now. He's ours."

"I thought you were against this arrangement, Sanemi," Uzui chuckles, prompting the other to growl at him.

"I'm a Pillar. If the majority has decided that he's worth the risk, then he is worth it."

Even though he doesn't like when they don't mention Nezuko, part of him is glad that they consider the debt is only Tanjirou's to pay.

That way she can be free as soon as Kibutsuji stops hunting them or dies.

"No one will hurt you again," Rengoku promises, leaning enough for their foreheads to touch. His eyes are intense. "They're too afraid of us to even try."

Tanjirou is not sure, but something tells him that Muzan is not going to give up that easy.

***

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makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA:

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

#bnha 302 #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #my sincerest apologies for this absurdly long recap which is barely funny at all!#THERE WAS VERY LITTLE HUMOROUS CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER #congratulations horikoshi you win this round

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hamliet · 4 years ago

Note

I feel like people confuse heroes with what we know here in America as cops lol

What’s so wrong with Hawks killing Twice is that he’s claiming to be a hero. Heroes don’t kill. And people keep comparing them to real life cops who kill when they deem it’s necessary, or whatever.

Now don’t get me wrong I don’t think cops should kill either, but that’s a different discussion. But the bottom line is you can’t call yourself a hero if you can’t find a way to save people without killing someone else, and Hawks is doing just that, and the other “heroes” are allowing it, which in my opinion makes them not *true* heroes.

Why people insist on forcing cop values onto fictional heroes is beyoooond me.

So I got this ask like two months ago (at least; it might’ve been longer) and wrote out a response, but decided not to post it because it is a complex answer. With the diskhorse now revived and rearing its ugly head, I decided to refine a bit of this and post my thoughts.

I don’t think a distinction between cops and heroes is really important, since as far as we have seen in BNHA... we aren’t really sure of the distinction, plus at least for me as an American, I can’t comment on Japan’s system (and there’s a major racism factor in the US).

We have seen heroes willing to kill in the manga (I mean, they were all trying to kill Tomura), though. This fits with this chapter’s (314) indication of a highly corrupt system.

I also completely agree with you: in general (look extreme situations exist, but BNHA thus far isn’t in one; it will likely have one towards the end with AFO) if you can’t find a way to save a life without it coming at the cost of another, that isn’t something heroic to be celebrated, and that’s a cheap-ass view of justice (also as a personal value). It’s a tragedy, not something to be admired or inspired by or to aim for, all of which are generally responses to heroism as a concept (within our world and within BNHA).

This idea--that killing is not heroic--is also reflected in the story for the most part: from chapter one, we are told a hero saves. We can thus conclude that someone who does not save is probably not intended to be seen as heroic in that moment (which is not the same as condemning them as a monster who cannot change). That is clearly a value of the story, so to uphold this, Twice’s death (since this is the scenario wherein this tends to be discussed) has to be wrong, thematically speaking.

On the correlation of cops/heroes... it is complicated.

In general, I think it’s poor analysis to directly correlate fiction (especially when the work is from another culture than one’s own) to real current events, and particularly when they are so raw, real, and painful. At the same time, I also get that it’s impossible for brains not to make connections and see familiar circumstances in them. However, this doesn’t mean that 1=1 but instead is a blurry reflection in a mirror: the arguments and logic are not entirely removed from the real world, even if not intended to be 1=1 equivalents (by equivalents I mean direct representations of a particular real life event/concept). Even if the author does not intend the reflection, it can still exist and be picked up on by readers, or by the fandom in their respective contexts/cultures. This is not “wrong” of fans; we.all do this.

So, to return to how Twice’s death is analyzed within the specific context of fandom, I’m reluctant to equate it to the real world, while at the same time indeed finding it almost impossible not to shiver at the way the arguments used by hero stans mimic rhetoric from the real world. Personally, I do find it disturbing how many people come to my inbox and make the same exact arguments as “blue lives matter” folks. Of course it is fictional and therefore different, but it can trigger things especially given the current events in the US, where I live. I’m unsettled by said argument even with contextual and cultural changes taken into account, because on a “personal value” level, the arguments are just flat invalid, rooted in a very shallow understanding of justice, and prone to the whims of injustice. Additionally, many of the asks I’ve gotten do indeed draw on the real world “well it’s okay for real world cops/soldiers/etc” directly, which is partially why I think I’ve responded heatedly before, and why I think other meta writers have done the same.

That does not mean these fans inherently have a certain point of view (many don’t); I’m just saying that the similarities in arguments specifically around the morality of using lethal force against a potential criminal is hella yikes for me personally, and I know I’m not alone in this (and also know that people closer to these issues than myself might feel differently too; there are no monoliths). Anyways, I wish more hero fans would acknowledge this when justifying Twice’s death. It’s fair to discuss it within the realm of the series’ portrayal of morality, and the story has been odd with the framing around Twice’s death: the narrative hasn’t called Hawks out (yet), while also portraying Hawks unequivocally as in the wrong during the actual murder (look at the panels again. Horikoshi drew them that way for a reason).

But people often revert to real world justice arguments to vindicate Hawks, and... maybe don’t?

Is Hawks brainwashed? To an extent, yes. He’s not more or less culpable than Dabi or Shigaraki just because the law gives him a license to kill. We can discuss ideological motives and how they impact the degree to which a character will be held responsible in a story because, of course, it is not the real world and is for a message, but that’s for another day. He needs a chance to free himself, but you can’t say that he did not do something wrong by killing Twice. That doesn’t make him a monster.

Anyways I think the fandom ought to be more sensitive and self-aware of the arguments we are making, and where they come from.

#Anonymous #bnha 314 #bnha meta #kinda #hawks #takami keigo #lady nagant #mha 314

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years ago

Text

Ignorance Is Blitzed (Part 7)

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initially thought.

Warnings: SMUT! YA GIRL FINALLY WROTE THE SMUT!, light angst, fluff, SMUT, Ron is a dom but he’s so into you he turns into a soft!dom, Reader is a mess, Ron is a tease, SMUT!

~ ~ ~ ~

Lewis Nixon was a dead man.

Even if Ron’s sudden (if not minute) PDA hadn’t clued you in to the fact that someone had told him about Nuremberg, the look of fear in Lewis’s eyes when you’d caught his gaze basically confirmed it.

You’d mumbled something about getting some air to Ron as you watched Lewis hightail it out of there, hot on his heels as he tried to escape the wrath that you were sure showed plainly on your face.

He doesn’t get far.

When you catch his elbow in what seemed to be the hotel staff’s dining room, he whines like a wounded animal and holds his hands up pleadingly.

“I swear to God I, thought you’d told him already—”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Nix scoffed at that, despite the fear clearly paling his face.

“Okay, one- people were going to find out eventually. Two? How in the hell was i supposed to know that you hadn’t told your boyfriend—”

“Not my boyfriend—”

“—yes he is your boyfriend- about it? And three: and he doesn’t even seem to be mad about it!”

You scoff at that, hands going to your hips as you stare at him in disbelief.

“It wasn’t something for you to tell- if the news that I was being asked to go in hadn’t come from you in the first place, I’d never have told you either! No one was supposed to know—!”

“What were you going to do, just dump him and disappear?!”

Your rebuttal sticks in your throat, guilt flooding through your veins at the bluntness of his question.

It must show on your face, because Lewis furrows his brows and looks at you in disbelief.

“No… Y/N, you aren’t seriously trying to tell me that you—?”

“I was giving him a clean break. I am giving him a clean break.”

You’d made the decision after you’d heard about Ron’s decision to stay with Easy and go to Japan, when you’d realized that neither of you were going to be going home anytime soon.

In Ron’s case, he may not come home at all- and if you knew him as well as you thought you did, you knew what that would mean for the two of you.

Hollow promises to keep in touch, followed by equally well-intentioned agreements to find the other when it all was over, both of you ultimately knowing in your heart of hearts that those commitments would inevitably fizzle out and die the moment the going got tough.

You didn’t want that, didn’t want to trap Ron in something that was destined to fail from the get-go.

As much as he liked you, cared for you, you also knew who he was. What he would always be.

A ruthless, brilliant soldier, ready to lay it all on the line at the first opportunity. And you loved him too much to ever ask him to be anything else.

He deserved to find happiness- even if it wasn’t with you.

Nix looked at you pityingly, a forlorn look on his face as he digested what you’d said.

“Look, I don’t know the guy well,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and taking a step towards you to rest a hand on your tense shoulder. “But anyone with eyes can see that you mean a lot to him.”

You nod and offer him a tight smile, eyes drifting downward to avoid letting any potential tears come to the surface. “I know I do- I don’t doubt that. It’s not about how things are right now, though. We don’t get to live in the right now for much longer.”

The hand on your shoulder squeezes at the muscle there, a small sound of admonishment escaping under Lew’s breath as you feel him watch you. He doesn’t like what you’re saying- you can tell that he wants to argue that you’re being ridiculous.

But even he knows that it wouldn’t be of any use. It wouldn’t change your mind.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here, Y/N. I’d bet if the others knew, they wouldn’t like it much either.”

You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek as you look back up at him and nod. “Guess I’m breaking up with all of you, aren’t I?”

Nixon’s eyes are shining, and you wonder if he’d be this upset if he were 100% sober. When you step into him to embrace him, he beats you to the punch and wraps his arms around you quickly, taking a deep breath that seems to make his chest expand to twice his size.

“I suppose you’re right. Not that being dumped ever stopped me before,” he gives you a sad smile when he eventually releases you, giving your shoulder a final pat before taking his hands away.

“Don’t be surprised when I show up at your window, drunk as a skunk and proclaiming my undying love for you at 3 am sometime in the near future.”

As you open your mouth to reply, you see Nix’s focus flick to something past your shoulder.

Even if you hadn’t seen the fear on the man’s face, you still would’ve known that it was Ron.

Because of course it would be him.

Gritting your teeth, you sigh and close your eyes. Dread tasted sour on your tongue as you turned your head to peer over your shoulder, flinching at the look of silent fury marring his handsome face. Sniffing, you force yourself to speak despite the tightness clenching at your throat.

“You should go, Lew,” you say quietly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lewis says nothing as you turn around to face Ron, the sound of his retreating footsteps barely registering in your ears as anxiety sends blood thrumming loudly in your ears. Ron’s sharp eyes make you feel impossibly small, and you think you can now understand what everyone else had been talking about for the past few years. Ron was scary. You did feel scared.

“You and I need to get some things straightened out.”

His words are clipped, and if he sees you flinch at the tone in his voice he doesn’t show it. You inhale shakily, realizing you had been holding your breath for too long and wetting your lips as you searched for the right words to say.

Just as you open your mouth to speak, Ron turns on his heel and begins to stride off, and once you are able to unstick the soles of your shoes from the floor you trail after him cautiously. When you reach the doorway, you see that he’s stopped a few paces from the door frame, waiting. In a move that surprises you, he uncurls his hand from the fist it had been in and holds it out to you, eyes heavy and dark and trained on you.

Quickly, you flicker your eyes between his face and his hand, only stepping forward and taking it after you’ve mustered up enough confidence that it wasn’t going to be something you regretted doing. You’d never had someone mad at you like this before, at least not for as intimate a reason as he was now. Of course, you’d never allowed yourself to care for someone like this before either- maybe this mortifying combination of guilt and heartbreak was normal.

The moment your hand finds his, he turns away from you and starts walking again, and as you follow you realize that he’s leading you towards the room you both share. There's no softness in the way his hand holds yours, the grip firm and unyielding. It almost makes you feel like a child being pulled off for a private scolding from a parent.

You hate it.

The journey to your room is both too long and not nearly long enough, and it’s only when he opens the door and releases your hand that you fear that you may never get the chance to feel his touch ever again. That reality was already one you’d been dreading, with him leaving so soon to go where you could not follow. The thought of that time coming sooner because of something like this was devastating.

You stand in front of the door once it closes, ready to have him ask you to leave at a moment’s notice. Unblinking, you watch him shirk off his jacket and toss it on a nearby chair, shrugging the suspenders down from his shoulders with a spark of agitation. His hair has begun to fall into disarray, and the idea of him hating you while looking so unfairly handsome makes your heart tighten painfully in your chest.

Unwilling to wait out the inevitable for a moment longer, you clear your throat at steel yourself.

“Ron-”

“You don’t get to hide that kind of shit from me.”

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his voice quiet and uncomfortably devoid of emotion. As he walks over to the table that held a decanter of whiskey and fine crystal glasses to pour a drink, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear and try again

“I was just trying to give—”

“—give me a 'clean break', yeah. I heard.”

Bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, you watch as he clenches his jaw and swallows.

“Did you ever think about asking me what I wanted?“

That does throw you, and as he sets the glass down and turns to look at you you make no move to hide the look of confusion on your face. Glancing down at your shoes, you shake your head softly and try and find your voice once more

“I- but you don’t want this. You don’t want to be tied down—”

“And what makes you so confident that you know what I want, huh?”

There's clear anger in his voice now, and you look up just in time to watch him walk over to you. You straighten as he comes to a stop right before you, hands braced on his hips as he all but glowers down at you.

“You don’t get to make those sort of decisions for me- got it?”

He emphasizes the bite on the ‘t’ in ‘it’, the puff of air from his breath hitting your face.

When you make to turn away from him, one of his hands flashes up to grip your jaw- his touch gentle but authoritative enough that you know it’d be a bad idea to go against it. Something about the movement irks you, makes your heart beat faster from something much darker than fear or dread. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tilt your head back infinitesimally. Defiantly.

Ron notices, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Last time I checked, you aren’t a mind reader- and even if you were, you’d be a shit one because if you think what I want is anything other than you, you really don’t know me at all.”

“Stop it, Ron,” you mutter quietly, watching as his eyes flicker down to your mouth before dragging back up to meet your eyes again. “You’re being mean.”

He exhales sharply at that, a ghost of a rueful smile quirking his mouth before shaking his head.

“Am I?”

When you roll your eyes, he steps into you even more, using his hold on your jaw to tilt your head back further so you are still able to hold his glare.

“Like it or not, Y/N, you’re it for me- you got that? If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine- but know that I’d tear this whole entire goddamned continent apart if you wanted me to—”

“Why!?” you snap, his declaration bringing forth the sadness you’d managed to temporarily quell.

At the sight of tears refilling your eyes, Ron’s brows furrow and some of the darkness leaves his face. Shaking your head imploringly, you bring a hand up to circle his wrist.

“You could do anything, be anywhere with anyone you wanted! We….we’re just children, Ronald- and I love you but I’d never delude myself into pretending that I know the first thing about how to do this- any of this!”

You bring your other hand up to rest lightly on his chest, lowering your gaze to look at the slight tremble of your fingers as you do so.

“You were born for greatness, born to lead and fight and conquer….but all I was born to do was just exist for other people- like my parents or my family or whoever else needed something from me. Then, eventually, become somebody’s wife and give him a family. But….. I threw away any chance of that future in order to be here, and now that this is ending I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!”

Swallowing in a vain attempt to keep your voice from breaking, you look back up at him, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I won’t drag you down that mess with me, you deserve more than that- than me. I won’t ruin you, too—”

“Y/N,” Ron murmurs admonishingly.

“What?!”

With an ease that you two had only just begun to establish, he seals his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up and forcing you to take the first deep breath you’d taken in a long time. There’s an edge of desperation to it- just as there had been in your first kiss back all those months ago in Foy.

Only this time his lips taste like whiskey and something a tinge more wicked.

A promise of more.

Breaking the kiss but keeping his face close you yours, Ron brings his other hand up to cup your face. Brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, he eyes you softly.

“Don’t tell me what I deserve.”

Kiss.

“Stop telling me what to do.”

Kiss

“Let me conquer.”

This kiss is filthy, his lips plush and confident and unafraid in their mission to leave you completely mindless. Ron has stepped so close to you that your head has tilted all the way back into his hands, his fingers purposefully twisting in your roots so he has more control over the kiss.

Despite the fact that he’s never handled you this way before- you have no desire to ask him to slow down or be gentler.

You like it. You want more.

When you whimper into his mouth, you can feel him grin briefly before sliding one hand down your back to fist at the material of your shirt and bunching it free from where it had been tucked into the back of your pants.

Up until now, Ron had been nothing but gentle when it came to you- and while you knew him to be dominant and ruthless in battle you’d considered what his temperament would be like as a lover. Clearly, the confidence translated.

You slide the hand that had been on his chest up and around his shoulders, your elbow hooking around his neck and pulling him closer. As you nip at his bottom lip, Ron hums low in his chest. The hand he’d had on the small of your back has moved down to grip at your ass, and with a quick peck he pulls back slightly.

“Hold on,” he grumbles, and just as you open your mouth to ask for clarification Ron wraps his arms around your hips and lifts you so you’re having to lean into him, your feet stumbling across the floor as he turns you both and quickly walks the both of you to the bed.

He’s barely set you down before his hands find the hem of your blouse again, rucking it up your sides before your brain catches up with him and you tear it over your head. Your skin feels hot, and it feels even hotter at the feeling of Ron’s lips mouthing at the tops of your breasts as you fumble with the clasp of your bra.

“Shit,” you hear yourself curse, hating your fingers for being so uncoordinated. Undeterred by the fabric of the bra you’d pinched from one of the homes the lot of you had been asked to secure a week ago, Ron bites softly at your nipples until they stiffen. When you finally unhook the fastenings, he pulls the cups of the bra down easily and continues his attentions.

You curse again, head swimming at the realization that his own fingers have found the zipper of your pants and begun to pull it down. Carding your hands through his hair, you desperately try and calm your breathing while distantly realizing that he’s still fully clothed.

“Ron,” you gasp, looking down your chest and meeting his bright eyes as he sucks marks down the valley between your breasts. “I wanna see you—”

His hum is dark as he mockingly tilts his head at you, successfully pulling the fabric of your trousers down your hips until gravity takes over and it all pools at your feet.

“You are seeing me,” he insists quietly, trailing his blunt fingernails down your hips until they catch your underwear and shucking them down your legs as well. When you frown he bites some of the skin just under your left breast, chuckling wickedly at the squeak of surprise you’re unable to hide.

“Take your shirt off!” you nearly whine, your head falling back as he laves at the bite with his tongue. “You’re not being- shit….you’re being unfair—!”

“Then do something about it.”

You do whine at that, too frustrated to worry about being gentle as you take your hands from his hair to claw at his shirt- bunching and pulling at the fabric covering his back until you manage to get enough in your fists to pull it gracelessly over his head. Pure want has boiled your blood like a fever, with the only two thoughts in your mind being more more more and faster faster faster.

Before you can work his shirt any further down his arms, he shoves you back unceremoniously onto the bed, quick to pull your hips to the edge of the bed before bothering to continue undressing himself.

With a nearly comical desperation, you toe off your shoes, licking your dry lips as you watch the muscles of his torso bunch and lengthen as he strips the remainder of his clothing off- his eyes on you the entire time and his gaze doing nothing to calm the heaving of your chest.

“Christ, look at you,” he says quietly, a clear note of pride in his voice. “Too pretty for your own good, aren’t you?”

You blush at that, swallowing audibly at the praise and squeezing your eyes shut.

It all just was so much….

When you open your eyes again, you moan at the sight of him kneeling before you and pulling at your legs until they were over his shoulders. As you start to sit up you are pushed back down again by his hand on your chest, the feeling of his breath on your sex robbing you of any speech capabilities you had previously possessed.

“Just like that,” he commands gently. “Stay just like that.”

Maybe it was because it had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual intimacy with another person, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that your previous sexual partners hadn’t been particularly invested in the act, but one thing was for certain:

Ron Speirs was unfathomably good at cunnilingus.

You could only gape stupidly at the ceiling with your mouth open in a silent scream of overwhelm as he took your clit between his lips and absolutely ruined you- his tongue and teeth and fingers tearing you away from reality with a nearly cruel proficiency. It was almost humiliating how effectively he dismantled your already tenuous sense of composure, and if you had any sense of pride left you probably would’ve hated him for it.

He was making a mess of you, and he was doing it too easily.

Feeling a sheen of sweat glisten your skin, you can only hold onto him as your body trembles- and it’s all you can do to keep your hips on the bed as your back arches and your body rocks.

“Ron, please….I’m gonna cum—” you hear yourself choke out in warning, squeezing your eyes shut as something burning hot and sugar-sweet builds deliciously in your lower belly

“Oh yeah?” you feel him ask, one of his arms hooking around your hips to help still you. “Want to bet?”

Your eyes flash open

“What—?!”

You nearly howl in fury when he takes his mouth away, instantly sitting up to watch in betrayed dismay as he curls two fingers inside of you and adds a new kind of stimulation- one that keeps you on that cruel precipice without offering you any sort of relief.

He smirks up at you, and any affection you’d previously held for him is jeopardized by his clear mirth at the situation.

“Sorry, Sweetheart,” Ron says lowly, nothing in his voice conveying any sort of remorse. “But you don’t get to call the shots right now.”

You open and close your mouth desperately, unable to decide which sort of response would get you what you wanted. A frustrated shriek slips out in the interim, and when his smile broadens you remove your hands from his hair and smack at his head.

“Jesus Christ, Ron! What’s the matter with you—?!”

“Do you have any idea how good you taste, Y/N?” He continues as if you hadn’t spoken at all, ducking down to place a greedy kiss to your sex before pulling back again. “To think you were going to have me leave without letting me get my mouth on the source….absolutely heartless—”

“I get it, okay? Fuck Ron! What more do you want me to do?”

You wince at the addition to a third finger inside of you, the stretch adding the tiniest bit of ache to your horribly prolonged almost-orgasm. The forearm across your hips holds you down when you try to squirm in any direction in hopes of getting some more stimulation.

“Apologize.”

You widen your eyes at him, a scowl on your face as you look down your panting chest at him. “What?”

Like the cruel bastard he is, Ron shrugs as if the solution to all of this has been obvious the whole time.

“Say you’re sorry, and I’ll make it all better.”

Shaking your head, you hear yourself scoff. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You yelp as he turns his head to bite your thigh, fisting a handful of his hair to pull him away.

Smoothing the flat of his tongue over the bite, he closes his eyes wistfully and sighs.

“Close, but that’s not what I want to hear,” Ron says before tilting his head and looking back up at you, the tendons in his forearm pronounced as his fingers tirelessly continue their strokes inside of you.

“Say it. Say ‘Ron, I’m sorry.”

Biting the insides of your cheeks, you fix him with a glare and sigh with frustration.

“Fine! I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry, Ron!”

He purses his lips, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. You whimper as he slides his fingers out from inside you, but before you can think yourself victorious Ron uses those fingers to start rolling your clit- still keeping you on the edge while giving you just a hint of what you needed.

“Goddamnit, RONALD—!”

“Tell me that you deserve me,” he demands, his words taking on a gravelly tone. As you search his eyes, you see a heartbreaking shine of sincerity staring back at you. “Say it and then I’ll let you cum.”

Your throat is becoming tight, an unexpected wave of emotion hitting you and bringing tears to your eyes. The hand not currently torturing your clit squeezes your hip, and with a shake of your head you close your eyes.

“I-I deserve you,” you acquiesce, feeling your lower lip threatening to quiver. “I’m sorry.”

“Gutes Mädchen (good girl).”

Your head falls back with a moan as he latches his mouth to you again, body bowing as he ruthlessly finishes what he’d started and destroys you- sending you spiraling into bright euphoria and letting you float in the heat of it. You’re suddenly thankful for the arm across your hips, for it’s the only thing anchoring you to the real world as you shake for him.

“So perfect,” you can hear him saying, his voice now at your ear as you become aware of the press of his cock between your lower lips. “You’re the most perfect thing I've ever seen.”

Whining pathetically, you tilt your head back and clutch at his back.

“Please,” you beg, eyelids heavy and gaze unfocused. “Please—”

He doesn’t draw it out this time, quickly hooking his arm under your left leg and opening your hips so he can press himself inside of you. Still wrung out for your orgasm, you can only cry out softly at the feeling of him bottoming out, a broken sound of his own vibrating through his chest into yours.

You’ve never considered Ron to be a particularly talkative person, so when he begins to babble it catches you off guard while simultaneously endearing him to you further.

“I can’t believe how good you feel You surely were sent to ruin me God you’re such a good girl Better than I could’ve imagined Squeezing me so tightly I don’t want to be without you I want nothing else than this In what world would you think that I wouldn’t adore you I am yours entirely you ridiculous woman Shit I can feel you shaking Getting so tight Fuck do that again Are you going to cum again I want to hear you scream….”

Too lost in his words, you don’t know if you actually screamed as you came again- but you do know that at some point you’ve turned your head and sealed your lips to his. His hips stutter as he cums with a breath shout, his free hand dancing up and down your side with a carnal desperation that you could understand but not replicate- not now.

Because now you are well and truly wrung out.

The weight of Ron’s body atop yours is welcome, and the sweet way he kisses you is almost too much for your fragile mind to process.

“Y/N?”

Ron’s voice is soft, and as you blink your eyes open you cannot help but smile satedly up at him. He looks beautiful, and the soft way he’s looking at you makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Hm?”

He brings a hand to your face and smooths some of your hair behind your torn ear.

“You weren’t born for someone else,” he says the words carefully, as if he is struggling with ensuring that they are the right ones. “But…. I’m starting to think that maybe I was. Or that, maybe we were…..Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

Taking his face between your hands, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift across his handsome face.

Lifting your head, you lightly press your lips to his and sigh.

“Yeah, Ron….I think I do.”

He deepens the kiss, pulling you with him as he rolls to the side and holds you against him.

“Mo Leannan,” he murmurs into your hair as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mo Chridhe.”

You furrowed your brow, the words unfamiliar and in a language you could not identify. It was common knowledge that Ron spoke a passable level of German, but from the way his mouth wrapped around these words, you wondered if he was fluent in another language and had just never told you about it.

“What did you say?” you asked softly, exhaustion having crept into both of your bodies and rendered you mostly immobile.

Humming, Ron wraps the hand you’d rested on his chest in his and brings it up to his face so he can kiss your palm.

“Later,” he says sleepily before lowering your joined hands to rest on his sternum. “I’ll tell you later. Rest.”

And because you believe him, you do as he says and allow yourself to be swept away.

~ ~ ~

HELLO AND HI! This took forever and a day to write but only bc I overthought everyhting and got distracted by other shiny things SO WHOOPS MY B! Anyhoo- I love ya’ll and remember to hydrate!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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oblivious | k.takami

♡ pairing: keigo takami x gn!reader.

♡ word count: 1.8K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, assistant!au, fluff.

♡ summary: usually, when it comes down to smooth talking and flirting, pro hero hawks has all the boxes checked right off. except for when it comes to his assistant, who doesn’t quite seem to get it. or the one in which miruko meddles with hawks’ love life on valentines day.

♡ warning(s): please read ! tooth-rotting fluff, cheesy pick-up lines, just keigo being a dorky boi! :D

♡ author’s note(s): goood evening my loves! here’s a little fluff fic for you on valentines ! it was requested a while ago by @mocha-focha but i figured today would be the perfect day! i hope youu enjoy, sorry this is so last min! happy valentines day <3

♡ masterlist | requests

keigo couldn’t tell if he found it more adorable or more annoying.

your obliviousness that is.

on one had, your cluelessness to the number two’s attraction towards you was most certainly adorable. the way you grew flustered when he walked by or leaned down to your height to tease and compliment you. the way your gaze dropped shyly to your desk when he’d ask something minuscule of you. keigo knew he intimidated you; after all, who wouldn’t be in the shoes of japan’s second most beloved hero.

the winged hero had wanted you ever since he first laid his avian eyes on you, after he’d stumbled back into his agency to complete paper work for that day’s patrol. you had been unpacking boxes at the desk outside of keigo’s office, hired to be a temporary assistant while the last had quit due to said blonde ‘being too much to handle.’

keigo still remembers the way your eyes had flittered to the floor as soon as he came into view and the timid way your name had slipped from between your pretty lips when he’d asked for your name.

the blonde swears he could never get tired of the sweet taste of ‘yn’ on his tongue.

you were nice company and worked well with keigo, since you were resilient unlike his last assistant. he couldn’t fault you anywhere, not in your kind smile and precious gestures ( you always brought him a chicken sandwich when you came back from your lunch break ). you were a gem. the only ‘annoying’ thing was that you never quite understood his flirting.

sure; some of keigo’s methods like bringing you little gifts of shiny things and rocks were a little unconventional... but he couldn’t help it! he was a goddamned bird after all and it wasn’t his fault you mistook the dead rabbit on your desk as a cruel practical joke instead of a proclamation of love. and okay, maybe keigo giving you extra work so you could spend more time with him after office hours was a little over the top; but at least his pickup lines got through to you.

they were cringeworthy of course but at the very least; they made you grin even if you were a bit confused. one time you thought he had been practicing on you to test on endeavour on their patrol later that day. another story for another time.

so maybe the most annoying thing wasn’t your obliviousness to keigo’s advances but instead the reactions and teasing from his friends. just like now.

“so what’s it gonna be today keigo?” rumi asks from the winged hero’s left, her rabbit ears twitch and pick up on his light scoff— while he mentally prepares for the incoming barrage of teasing. “’are you the alphabet because i can c u and i together?’”

“no rumi, i’ve got better than that.” keigo barks out with a shift of his crimson wings, the number five smirks from beside him and keigo rolls his eyes with defeat, hating the way his wings often conveyed his underlying emotions. the elevator they both travel in comes to a slow stop on the thirteenth floor of the hawks agency where the man himself hosts meetings in his office. the whole reason rumi was even here was to attend some dumb mission briefing the commission wanted to set them on but more than likely the bunny like hero would be here to tease keigo about his failed attempts at flirting with you. “just you wait!”

she enjoyed making his life a living hell. “i don’t know, nothing can quite beat that ‘i’m not a photographer but i can picture you and i together’ line you used last week!” rumi winks, swiftly exciting the elevator as the doors chime and open up, just narrowly avoiding the flurry of cursing and chirps from the bird-like hero.

said blonde follows with a huff, making a b-line for his sacred office as he sets his mind on getting the meeting done. the sooner it ends, the sooner rumi can get the hell out of his hair and stop bullying him for having a crush on his personal assistant. only, keigo is stopped in his tracks when he notices you innocently perched at your desk, tapping away at some document on your computer— one that he probably could’ve and should’ve done himself. hawks almost hates how he catches himself blushing over how you complete such a mundane task, the squint to your eyes and the slight pinch to your brows in concentration ( which is adorable to him quite frankly ) make his heart flutter.

he finds himself coming to a stop just in front of your desk, causing rumi to slow up ahead and turn around to watch the chaos unfold.

your typing ceases quickly when you notice the shadow on your boss looming over you— his gold and piercing avian eyes staring right back down at you as soon as you look up. “oh! mr hawks, you’re back—!”

“yn, i seem to have lost my number, can i borrow yours?” hawks blurts out the cheesy line, almost instantly regretting it right after.

there’s a beat of silence between you both while your face morphs into one of confusion. why would he need to borrow your number when you could just locate it in the personal records you had access to? in the meantime, miruko has taken it upon herself to fill the awkward air with pockets of wheezy laughter. you blink up at your boss, once, twice, three times before reaching for your notebook with all of his important details written inside. “mr hawks, if you wanted me to read your number out loud for you again , you could have asked! i'm more than happy to!” you say your words slowly, just to make sure he understands— your boss can be a bit of an air head sometimes and it is your job to help him out.

“no—yn, no i—” keigo instantly shakes his head, the red tint of shame blaring across his cheeks in a shade that almost rivals the red of his wings. said appendages puff up and flutter with embarrassment and it doesn’t help that his fellow hero is laughing at him so hard that she’s bent over and struggling to breathe. “baby—i meant i was asking for your numb—“

you smile up at him with sweet innocent eyes that have his words dying in his throat. “i didn’t know you had a baby! congratulations mr hawks!” and then you return to typing.

keigo wants to die, physically deflating right in front of your desk where he stands.

rumi, who now seems to have recovered from her laughing fit passes by keigo with a pat to his back, he only pouts while she wipes the remainders of amused tears from her eyes before perching herself on your desk, practically leaning over you. you look up once again, feeling shy under the gaze of yet another esteemed pro hero but greet her politely with a bob of your head.

“yn, hun, can i ask you a question?” the number five asks you, warm grin helping you relax just a little.

“yes miss miruko?”

you find the woman shaking with laughter above you before she pets your hair endearingly, the gesture almost makes you pout and you have to remind yourself of where you are and who you work for. “firstly, love, you can call me rumi, i know you’re shy but i don’t bite…” you paw gently at your cheeks in oder to fight the growing heat that burns brightly under your skin, growing ever so flustered under miruko’s silky voice and knowing gaze. “secondly, hawks isn’t a father nor does he have a baby— he was addressing you, sweetheart. and finally,” rumi pauses, patting your head again as her bunny ears twitch with amusement and mischief. “how do you feel about the bird brains over there, do you like him?”

takami jolts up in his place, impossibly redder than he was before while he makes an attempt to shut rumi up with his ruffled feathers. the bunny simply catches the red feather between her hands, giving them a little tickle to distract her fellow hero , tilting her head down at you as if to ask ‘well?’ you gulp, feeling yourself become nervous as the two wait for your answer expectantly. of course you had nothing but positive feelings towards your boss; he was kind and made the time out of his busy day to talk to you— but why did they care so much as to ask you for your opinion? you were only his assistant and saying anything bad about the number two hero would surely get you fired.

hesitantly, your gaze flickers between the clearly entertained miruko and the highly embarrassed hawks— forcing you to take a deep breath before delivering your anticipated answer. “well—! he’s a great boss, i— i couldn’t ask for better, why wouldn’t i like a boss who gives me an hour and a half’s lunch break?” you sigh in relief at your answer, assuring yourself that it won’t have offended anyone but your heart rate is quick to spike when miruko squishes your cheeks and tilts your head to face your flustered boss.

“no sweetheart,” she corrects herself, pointing over at keigo who cowers into his wings. “i mean, do you like him as in... would you date him?”

you swear on all might’s life that you almost pass out from her words, mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. why would she ask that of you? sparing a glance at your boss once move, you realise what all of this is about. his hot blush, the way he avoids your stare, his flustered state to match your own. he likes you, just as you like him. rumi was only being a good wing woman, one that you were grateful for— as you’d never make a move on hawks on your own, no matter how many feelings you’d harboured for him in the time that you’d worked for him. You had been oblivious to his romantic gestures this whole time and now; the situation for you to confess had presented itself to you.

to hell with it.

“yes,” you breathe as best you can through squished cheeks, staring at keigo with eyes dreamy enough to make his heart soar. “why wouldn’t anyone? i-i mean, mr hawks is so sweet and kind to everyone he meets, fans or not! and…and he’s really pretty— i mean handsome… and his eyes—“ you cut yourself off upon realising the tangent you’ve gone on just to prove your attraction to your boss, looking away shyly and rumi let’s you go with a sweet chuckle.

but just as quickly as you look away, the softness of a little red feather tilts your focus back to him. “glad to know you think so yn,” he winks, making you giggle shyly. “i’ll pick you up tonight at seven for valentines, then.”

and who were you to say no to him.

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chazukekani · 4 years ago

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Previous // Next

Here comes the summary of Code:02 (chapter 2) of Stormbringer. Enjoy!

p.s. Please beware that it was just a summary so some part is skipped.

Recap: The flags were dead.

Adam was walking on the street. He was holding a big bag in front of his body. What's inside were chocolate, hard candy and gummy bear. Adam bought it all for Chuuya because he knew humans need sugar in order to live and to stay happier.

'Good morning!' Adam shouted. He was in a church with a hundred participants. Youth choir was singing hymns and attendants were all wearing black clothings.

It was a funeral, with five coffins placed in the center.

'Chuuya-san, I am here to pick you up,' Adam said.

'Quiet! The funeral is in progress!' Chuuya said impatiently.

'There is some new information about Verlaine,' Adam replied.

Hence, shortly after, Chuuya followed Adam to go somewhere else which was quite far away from the church. Adam asked for Chuuya's permission to override his own command authority. By command authority, Adam explained that this was something written into his system, where he had an order of priority of certain people that he could listen to their commands. The first priority was always following the command of the investigation authority, and the second is Dr. Wollstonecraft. However, Adam wanted Chuuya to be the first priority for now.

Chuuya agreed, and the priority was then alternated, which Adam now called Chuuya as Chuuya-sama. The teen was slightly embarrassed by the new title.

'Can you change the way of how you call me?' asked Chuuya.

'Yes I can. This is just my default,' Adam answered, 'But you will no longer be my first priority.'

'What? That's so annoying. Nevermind then. Don't you have something about Verlaine to tell me?' said Chuuya.

'Yes I do. But may I take a gum before I do that?' Adam said. The robot seemed to like gum very much.

Adam pointed out that Verlaine probably hired a third party to assist him entering Japan. There were only very few illegal smuggling services which were not under the control of the Port Mafia, so it was actually fairly easy to find out which organisation helped Verlaine. Adam said he hacked the database of the police authority, and found the exact personnel who was hired by Verlaine.

'I am glad to know that you can actually do something,' Chuuya mocked.

Apart from hiring people to provide assistance on smuggling, Adam pointed out that Verlaine also asked those people to order three things for him.' The first one is four branches of white birch. Adam explained that there was also a white birch founded in the billiards bar, so he believed that the birch was actually a signature of Verlaine after completing a murder. Hence, there were supposed to have three birches left. Meanwhile, the other two things were entry licences of a car factory and an old fashioned blue colour flip phone.

'I know where he is,' Chuuya acknowledged something, 'Let's go,'

'Where are we going?' Adam asked.

Chuuya didn't answer. He grabbed Adam's final piece of gum, and put it into the mouth. Chuuya blew a bubble from his mouth, and Adam was shocked.

Inside the car factory, there was a teen working. He was grabbed by his manager because he wanted to invite him to have a meal after work. However, the teen was then brought to the meeting room. The teen saw someone.

'Chuuya...' the teen spoke.

'Shirase.' said Chuuya

Chuuya explained himself to Shirase because he knew Shirase was Verlaine's next target. Shirase was the reason why Chuuya joined the Mafia (as recalled from 15 years old). If Shirase was killed, then Chuuya no longer had a reason for staying in the mafia, such that Chuuya could leave with Verlaine.

Chuuya asked Shirase to help him, but Shirase refused because he hated Chuuya, and he did not want to be a bait either. He escaped by riding a bike so Adam and Chuuya chased afterwards. While Shirase was escaping, he was stopped at a police checkpoint.

'Shirase Buichirou! I am going to arrest you for keeping weapons illegally!' A police officer, roughly around his 40s and wearing a dark green outfit, said. Chuuya ran forward because he knew this officer.

'Hey- How are you Chuuya? Did you eat properly?' said the officer, 'You can't grow if you don't eat well.' They chatted as if old friends.

'I suspect you may be the accomplice of Shirase, so please come to the police station with me as well.'

Chuuya suddenly realised that such an arrest was not a coincidence. It was the factory manager who had plotted them.

Adam, Chuuya and Shirase were all in the police station. Apart from Shirase being detained, the rest of two were staying in the investigation room inside the station.

'Chuuya-sama.'

'...'

'Chuuya-sama.'

'what...'

'It's your turn. Our game of '"Discovery of human's uniqueness".'

Chuuya didn't answer.

'Then it's my turn,' Adam said. 'Hmm, I think what's special with humans is, they will be embarrassed by sounds that were made apart from their voice, such as the groans of their stomach.'

'Huh?' Chuuya was confused.

' "Huh" right? Thanks for responding to me,' said Adam.

The game continues.

'Shall we ban gaming next time?' said Chuuya.

'Is this an order?'

'Yes.'

'Understood, I will no longer play the game of "Discovery of human's uniqueness".' Adam answered.

'Why you look super sad...' Chuuya noticed the disappointment on Adam's face.

Chuuya proceeded to ask whether it was possible for Adam to ask for help from his own organisation, but Adam denied this possibility because the EUROPOLE was bound by a regulation of 'non infringing country's sovereignty' when the organisation was founded in the post-war period, so this strategy didn't work.

[Change in perspective] Here was an abandoned area, a piece of land that was forgotten by everyone. Different kinds of garbage was thrown here, regardless of transportation container or corpses. In the middle of this area, was where Dazai lived. He's living in a container, with basic furniture such as a fridge, fan, table, chairs and bed equipped, together with a small light bulb.

Suddenly, someone opened the door of the container.

'You are really living in an interesting place, Dazai-kun,' that person greeted, 'My god, why are you living in this place? To avoid tax or something?'

'I am afraid of you, Verlaine-san,' Dazai replied without a single emotion.

'Lie,' said Verlaine, 'I was trying to kill you two days ago, and you didn't feel anything back then.' Verlaine touched some documents on the desk, and those were the top secret of the mafia.

'Two days ago, I didn't kill you because you promised to give me these documents. I don't think you handed me this because you wanted my spare you right?' said Verlaine.

'It's simple,' Dazai said, 'I just want to see the Mafia burns.'

'Why?'

'I'm fed up,' Dazai looked at Verlaine for a second, 'I found nothing after all,' Dazia then murmured to himself.

'I see, I understand what you mean,' Verlaine, 'thanks for your cooperation, Dazai-kun.'

Verlaine flicked a coin, and boom, it exploded. All the surroundings apart from Dazai's container were blown up and gone, and Verlaine was about to leave

'Where are you going?' Dazai asked.

'You should have known right? To the police station,' Verlaine answered.

Chuuya was called into an investigation room to be questioned by that police officer, his name was Murase. The officer proposed an idea which he could set Shirase free, but in return, Chuuya needed to expose some secrets about the Mafia.

'Are you telling me to betray the Mafia?' said Chuuya.

'Just tell me and I let you and your friend go home,' the police officer was writing his report.

'Give me your pen,' Chuuya said calmly, then wrote 'eat shit' on the signature spot of the report.

Adam was somewhere near Shirase's detention. He hacked into the database of the police authority, and acquired the detaining number of Shirase, and successfully deceived the guards. Adam found Shirase, and was about to bring him away from the police station, but Shirase didn't look happy at all. Adam told Shirase that there was actually no need for him and Chuuya to protect him, but Chuuya wanted to protect him. Adam explained what happened during one year ago and revealed the reason why Chuuya joined the mafia to Shirase because Chuuya wanted to protect him.

Suddenly, when Adam and Shirase were about to leave, the teen said something.

'You... where have your left leg gone?' said Shirase.

Adam realised that the part beneath his left knee was gone, and he immediately fell down.

'Robot investigator is surely a tough job isn't it?' said by a voice.

'Verlaine...'

Adam could not handle the attack from Verlaine because he was using gravity control which made Adam not able to move.

'Don't... don't come near me!' Shirase was horrified.

'Shirase-kun, I have done research on you. You have known Chuuya for the longest in this city. Shirase-kun, please tell me, how was Chuuya when he was a kid?'

'We are... the founding members of The Sheep... and we thought Chuuya was just an orphan. He was the one who spoke to us first: "What's that brick?" Chuuya said that.'

'It was bread, we answered,' Shirase continued, ' "Do you wanna eat that?" I asked, and he said yes. The moment he wanted to move, and fell down and fainted. He was very thin and almost dead by then. Despite there were some members who objected to my idea , I found some food and water for him and brought him back to The Sheep.'

'You are Chuuya's brother right?' Why do you want to kill me? There was no one apart from me saving your brother! Is this how you return your favour?' Shirase yelled at Verlaine, but he didn't say a word.

'I understood, there is no common sense in this world. I am killed because I saved someone. Now, hurry up and kill me,' said Shirase.

Verlaine stepped forward and walked closer to Shirase. Adam calculated, and deduced that there were 168 possibilities, and among all of them, Shirase would be killed either way. It was impossible that the 169th possibility would occur.

Yet, Chuuya was here and kicked Verlaine off horizontally, and that's the 169th possibility.

A fight broke out between the brothers. Chuuya hit Verlaine harshly and violently, which made Adam think it was probably his first time seeing how a person could beat the assassin king that severely. The wall and the surroundings were destroyed by the battle.

'It has been a while since I last saw my blood,' Verlaine's voice sounds dry.

Chuuya aimed for Verlaine's arm, and punched it. He hit the wall as if touching the water surface and broke through it. That was unbelievable, Adam thought. Outside the wall was the car park of the police station, and Chuuya was hit by a car that was coming for him, and there were more cars incoming. Chuuya finally stopped attacking.

'Chuuya! Are you alright!' someone shouted from the back of the car park, it was Murase officer.

'Officer-san...why are you here? Don't come!' Chuuya yelled.

'Finally you are here,' Verlaine whispered.

Verlaine came forward to Murase-officer and grabbed his neck.

'Stop it!' Chuuya shouted, but it was too late. Murase officer was dead. Adam came forward to the body, and found a cross that was made by white birch. Chuuya was holding the body of the officer, and he found something inside the pocket. It was an old-style blue colour flip phone. That was the exact model that Verlaine acquired before he came to Yokohama.

Chuuya realised, the target of Verlaine was always Murase officer, and never was Shirase.

But why?

Code:02 Ended

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