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#all i can think about is getting it away from me. i think most people view me the way i view spiders. i should sympathize with them and not
derinwrites · 9 hours
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The Three Commandments
The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.
Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And
The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.
1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say
What’s your book about?
I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?
The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).
Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)
Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?
2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment
Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.
Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.
Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.
The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.
But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.
If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.
3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting
This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.
“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?
Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?
If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.
Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?
Hopefully these can help you, too.
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Fingertips - OP81
Summary: Oscar's fingertips only have to brush her skin for her to find him stuck to her like a magnet.
No part 2 requests please
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The soft feeling of Oscar's fingertips dancing on her skin, having slid under her t-shirt as he feels her shift to reach for her phone. He always tries to discourage her from being on her phone first thing, so feeling herself dragged back away from reaching distance of her phone, she laughs feeling his arms wrap around her tightly, pinning her own around her in doing so.
"Oscar...you're crushing me." Y/n whines through a laugh making him hum but really he's completely unbothered as he nuzzles into her neck.
Oscar isn't always the easiest man to wake up in the morning, he prefers to keep her close and holds her as closely as possible. Like she's a teddy bear, his comfort coming solely from her.
Eventually he's eased from his depth of sleep and loosens his hold on her just enough for her to roll over and face him properly.
"You're so pretty in the morning." Oscar smiles making her look at him, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion she could possibly look good right now. "You are. Don't insult my girlfriend by saying you're not."
"I am you're girlfriend, and I can say what I like about myself." Y/n smiles poking his ribs watching him smile before she begins to sit up and make a weak attempt at getting up from the bed. "Can I get up yet?"
"No."
"Ok, fine by me." Y/n laughs feeling his fingers drawing shapes on her skin though she frowns for a second. "Are you drawing hearts?"
His hand still very suddenly making her laugh before she looks at him with a grin.
-
Oscar's public image isn't usually the most affectionate man, sure people think he looks at Lando like he wears a halo. But really that's nothing compared to the way he looks at her.
Although half of the time when he knows she's about and he wants to find her, he looks very much like a lost puppy.
Today it's happened and be caught on camera both by media and by fans alike. Even by Lando at one point for the McLaren team account.
Oscar walks through the paddock having left the garage after a rushed debrief after quick qualifying thanks to him getting caught in traffic and taken out in Q1. For some reason he's itching to see her and when he finds her doing on the McLaren communal seats it only takes the lightest touch for her to sit up and let him slide onto the sofa before she lies back down.
"Why didn't you come to the garage?" Oscar mumbles making her frown lightly at him.
"You told me to watch from here, I only started to fall asleep because you had gone out. I was waiting for you." Y/n states earning hum feeling his fingers playing with strands of her hair. "It's one qualifying, it doesn't mean anything."
"Tell that to the fans and media who will rip into me."
"Hey. You own up to your mistakes, it's not like you're sitting here having a party about your Q1 exit. You're not happy." Y/n frowns then sitting up properly and shifting so her legs are tossed over his lap. "Don't beat yourself up before you've even seen what people are saying."
"Well, if you're not going to be harsh on me, one of us has to." Oscar smiles pulling her up entirely onto his lap as he seems to nuzzle his face into her neck, breathing in the perfume he thinks he's addicted to.
"Keep it PG, this is a public area." Lando jokes appearing with Zak as through walk into the shared space and y/n looks up with a smile while Oscar just remains hidden.
"Don't worry mate, everyone's all had bad qualis." Zak states making y/n shoot him a grateful smile as she rubs Oscar's back. "Get yourself home and just see that you're rested up for tomorrow."
"You heard the boss. We're free to go." Y/n smiles standing up and finding Oscar almost clinging to her, arms wrapping around her as he stands up matching her speed.
Even Lando and Zak seem shocked by Oscar's clinginess to his girlfriend. But she doesn't even worry about the looks getting Oscar to his drivers' room, grabbing his stuff and walking out, hands linked with each other's as they do so.
By the time they get to the hotel again, Oscar's all but climbing inside of her.
"Sad or just tired?" Y/n questions earning a tsk from the driver.
"Neither, I just love my girlfriend and I always want to be with her." Oscar grumbles making her laugh a little before she sighs and looks at him for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I feel like I always want you around even when I'm supposed to be working or doing something important where you can't be around."
"I'm not complaining." Y/n hums which earns her a sharp look up. "Oscar...you realise I feel the same. I hate being away from you. It sucks. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."
"You mean it?" Oscar mumbles watching her smile.
"I'm pretty sure most girls would hack of a leg to hear a man say he thinks there's something wrong with them because they actually miss their girlfriend and want to be around her. Of course I mean it." Y/n tsks before sighing and running her hand through his hair. "I love you."
'I love you too."
-
Getting time off with Oscar, y/n is honestly so happy to just be involved in his time off and spending it how he seems to be eager about it.
"What are you wearing?" Oscar mumbles making her look at him.
It's freezing out in England right now. Spring time is a lie here and summer is definitely not on it's way.
"Why? We're not going anywhere." Y/n laughs only to find him looking at her as he pulls on her joggers, tucking the socks.
It's not that cold in his apartment but even just the atmosphere of England gives a chill.
Oscar doesn't answer verbally instead leaving her to watch him pull on a matching outfit earning a grin before she sighs and climbs onto him, laughing a little when he holds her legs keeping them around his waist.
"You are the cutest, neediness boyfriend ever. But I think you might've just made me decide there is not a single day in my life I'm going to be able to live without you acting like this from now on."
Oscar hums carrying her into the living room where he very much nestles into her. At some point while she's distracted by watching a very attention grabbing episode of Unsolved Mysteries, he manages to practically climb under his her hoodie, smushing his face into her tummy and just keeping his head tucked under the material.
He doesn't even fall asleep, just happy to be there. There is some amusement and suppressed laughs at the gurgling sound of her tummy under his head but honestly he's more focused on being able to hear her heart being.
It sounds stupid that it brings him a type of comfort that he's never felt before with anyone else.
"Hey, you good in there?" Y/n laughs lifting the neck hole to look down at him under the hoodie.
Oscar can't even hide his grin as he looks up at y/n then tucking his head back down to it's previous position.
"Yes, I think we should stay like this forever."
"That's fine with me. Even if you must be bored with your view blocked."
"No, I'm listening to it all. It's quite peaceful."
"Alright...whatever you say, my little koala." Y/n hums before she reaches a hand down to gently rub his back.
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mrsmandalorian · 2 days
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Nonsense
-- pedro x singer!f!reader
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a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. much love to everyone!! -maddie
Summary: A surprise visitor at your first-ever Coachella performance!
main masterlist
Word Count: 4.5k
Song: Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter!!!!!!
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Warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)
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Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.
The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.
“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully. 
You were ready. 
“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody. 
The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit.  You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song. 
You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 
As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship. 
The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you. 
“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”
As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd. 
“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”
You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 
The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces. 
“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”
As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes. 
“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”
The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.
“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”
You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now. 
“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”
You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans. 
“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down. 
As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”
You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer. 
He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides. 
The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression. 
His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey. 
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Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof. 
The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.
“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home.  “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.” 
You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh. 
“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!” 
There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.
“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.” 
“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast. 
“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together. 
Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit. 
“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him. 
Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you. 
“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk. 
He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.” 
“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound. 
You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps. 
Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.”  He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.
His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you. 
He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.)  You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him. 
You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face. 
One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes. 
“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.” 
“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”
He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot. 
He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.
Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands,  your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.  
You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist. 
You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub. 
The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.
You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass.  “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?” 
You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans. 
“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”
The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders. 
His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.
Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises. 
Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it. 
These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man. 
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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.
I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.
This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)
My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.
But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.
So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.
My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.
My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.
I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)
It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.
After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.
My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)
I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.
I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.
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ladymunson · 3 days
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Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.
A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!
Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.
Word count: 5.3k
Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)
I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.
Support content creators by REBLOGGING
Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.
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“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.
“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.
Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.
You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.
It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.
The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.
You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.
“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.
Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.
“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.
Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”
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You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.
“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.
“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.
“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.
“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.
The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!
“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”
“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”
“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”
Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.
“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”
“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.
“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.
You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.
You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.
The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.
Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.
The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).
You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.
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Four weeks later.
Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.
You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.
The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.
So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.
“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.
“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.
“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”
You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”
The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”
You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”
He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”
The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “
“And how long have you been together?”
“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.
“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.
You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.
‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’
‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)
‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’
‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)
You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.
You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.
Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.
Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.
“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.
Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.
Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.
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(This is the dress you wear)
“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.
“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.
You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.
Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.
The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.
Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.
Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.
“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.
“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”
Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.
Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.
“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.
You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.
“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.
“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.
“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.
“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.
Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.
“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.
You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.
You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.
You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.
Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?
He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.
“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.
Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.
“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.
“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.
Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.
He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.
He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.
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You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.
“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.
“About what?” You reply.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.
“You think you what?” You nudge.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.
You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.
Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.
Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.
“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.
Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.
Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.
“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.
You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”
“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.
Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.
“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.
“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.
Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.
It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.
He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.
“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.
Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.
THE END?
Posted 23/04/2024
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Elevator problems in Monaco
Charles Leclerc x reader
Summary: You get stuck in the elevator with your neighbor and everybody's crush, Charles Leclerc.
Author's Note: In this story, there is no use of "Y/N" there is poorly translated French; only a few words. And contains 413 words.
Masterlist
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How often do you need to fantasize about someone before it is considered strange? I mean, it's not every day, but often enough that I consider it to become strange. Luckily, if you can consider it lucky, there are enough people always looking at him. Is it strange to become possessive of your kind of acquaintance-slash-neighbor? I don't think it's strange for me to think about him; after all, he is a Formula 1 driver, and a good one at that. I mean, I can count myself lucky that I even kind of know him when I see him walking his little dog.
Besides seeing him walking around the hall of her complex gives me extra views of his everyday life to fantasize about. But these are thoughts I shouldn't be having, especially not when I am in the elevator with him. Although he doesn't help with how in love he looks with his dog and the look he has right now, like he just came out of bed. And right now he is giving me the look like I am one of his crazy fans who just screamed 'Sign my boobs, Charles Leclerc.'
Tout va bien?! Alright, brain, don't freak out; he just asked you a question in a language you don't understand. Which you should be able to understand if you just didn't keep on skipping your Duolingo French lessons. After all, who lives in Monaco without speaking French? Rich assholes. Shit, you became a rich asshole who doesn't answer people. I try to smile friendly at him; it feels more like a grimace. Je ne parle pas français.
Ding! The sound of my dreams. I try to really smile at him this time while he looks at me like he still wants to say something and run like Usain Bolt right to my apartment. As I close my door, I realize that I have never looked pretty while I run and that he most definitely thinks I am a crazy person. After my freak out, I realize I went outside with a purpose and that I didn't even get off downstairs, but that I ran out of the elevator without it having moved. I am a crazy person. Can I still go back? I mean, I need to get back; otherwise, my friends will kill me. This is not a good enough reason to miss a baby shower, even if he is deadly handsome.
As I gather up the courage to look out my door like a spy, I realize that I have never looked so stupid. But I'm so relieved that I don't see him standing there that I want to scream. I walk over to the lift that is still open. Luckily enough, no one is inside, including my handsome neighbor, as I click on the button to go downstairs. I realize the lift is not moving, so I click another time, and another time. The lift is broken he says. I shriek and turn around while he smiles and giggles. I try to smile all the while, attempting not to freak out about the fact that I just shrieked at my crush and try to formulate a response.
"Seriously?!" He laughs again. "Yes, I just called maintenance, but I think today will be a stairs day, Mon cheri."
Now, you wouldn't think that would be a problem until you realize that we live on the 20th floor. "Wait, Mon cheri?" What does Mon cheri mean? He smirks this time and says, "How about I take you out for dinner when you figure out what it means? That way, you don't have to stare or run away from me anymore."
Somebody sedate me, 'Is Charles Leclerc flirting with me ?' 'I think I know what it means,' I say, trying to sound confident. 'Really?' he says with a cocky smirk. 'I didn't think you knew French with what you just said in the elevator. Or are you a liar, neighbor?' I scoff while he laughs with that stupid cute smirk, and I realize he is challenging me and I don't have a master plan. I mean, I don't speak French. He is looking at me expectantly, and I think, 'Fuck it.' I walk over to him and kiss him.
The next thing I know, I wake up to the sound of ticking on the floor and an arm around my middle. I sit up fast and look around my room until I notice the ticking was coming from the most adorable-looking dog I have ever seen. But then, I remember this dog, and most definitely the red gloves that lay in the room. As I panic, I quickly look to the side. The arm around my middle moves, and Charles sits up and says, 'Good morning, mon cheri.' I exhale and reply, 'Good morning,' with a smile, then lay back down and grab my phone, only to realize that I messed up greatly and missed the baby shower.
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missrosegold · 3 days
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someone new
Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.
He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.  
Word count: 16K
Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)
Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+
Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)
Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!
Title is from Someone New by Hozier
**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!
Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.
It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.
A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.
He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:
He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.
It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.
It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)
He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.
He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.
That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.
For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.
That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.
Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.
He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.
Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)
He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.
The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.
The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.
It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.
Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.
The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.
His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.
He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.
Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.
And then he met you.
Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.
-----
He remembers the first time he met you.
After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.
There he had started his rehabilitation. 
It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.
In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.
It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.
Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.
He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.
He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.
Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.
He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.
Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.
He was more relieved than he thought he would be.
More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.
Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.
Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.
He remembers the day you met for the first time.
He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.
You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.
“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.
You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”
He sat.
He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.
A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.
He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.
You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.
Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.
A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”
You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”
“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”
“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”
That caught his attention.
“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”
He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.
He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.
He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.
He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.
“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”
That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.
“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”
You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.
“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”
“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”
“Of you? No.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”
That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.
“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.
You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”
He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.
“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”
“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”
He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.
“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”
You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”
It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.
He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.
You were lucky you were attractive.
The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.
“Mr. Todoroki?”
“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”
“What do you want me to call you then?”
“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.
“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”
You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.
“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust. 
Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.
“So, what now then?”
“Now we talk I guess.”
“About what?”
“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”
Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.
“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”
To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”
That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.
“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.
Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”
He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”
He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”
You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.
For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.
He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.
He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.
True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.
He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.
You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.
There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.
Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.
In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.
He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.
“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”
“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”
 It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.
“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”
“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”
He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”
For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you. 
Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.
“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”
“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”
“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”
“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.
“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”
“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”
“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.
In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.
There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.
He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.
Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.
Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.
There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.
It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.  
You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.
He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.
It had been nice. Comfortable, even.
He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.
“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.
“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”
It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.
He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”
“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”
You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.
At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.
Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.
It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.
When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.
The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him. 
Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.
You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.
You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”
You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”
It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.
When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.
You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.
He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.
He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.
He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.
There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.
You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.
He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.
He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.
For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.
When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.
He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.
A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.
Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.
You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.
“You left.”
You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”
“Why did you go?”
You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”
He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”
You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.
“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”
You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”
He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”
He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”
For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.
“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”
“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.
“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”
“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”
“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”
“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”
Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”
You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.
“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”
That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.
He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.
What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.
Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.
“What do you want Touya?”
What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.
“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.
“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.
“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.
“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”
He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.
You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.
“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”
In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.
“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”
“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”
A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”
You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.
“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”
He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”
You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”
He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:
“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”
You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”
“Oh. They not in the country, or—”
“We’ll go with that.”
Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.
“Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”
You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.
“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”
He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.
“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”
“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.
The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.
“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.
In the end, you’d kept your promise.
It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.
Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.
Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.
You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.
“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.
He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.
Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.
Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:
He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.
The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.
His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.
The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.
His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.
Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.
“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”
You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.
“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”
“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.
To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”
He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.
His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.
“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”
The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.
He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.
Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:
He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.
He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.  
He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.
He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood. 
He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.
He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.
As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.
As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.
He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.
Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.
“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.
Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.
He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.
It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.
Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.
As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.
He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.
“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”
You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”
He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”
He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”  
You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.
“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.
The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.
You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.
He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.
“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”
Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.
He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.
“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.
“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”
Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.
He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.
Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.
A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.
He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.
You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.
You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.
“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”
It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.
He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.
He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.
“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”
“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”
“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.
“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”
“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”
He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.
You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.
“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”
That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.
That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.
After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.
It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.
He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being. 
All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.
For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.
While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.
He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—
-----
The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you. 
He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:
His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.
He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.
It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.
His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.
Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.
He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.
He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.
He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.
Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.
He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.
If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.
He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.
He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.
He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.
He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.
He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.
Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily. 
He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.
The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off.  He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.
“You’re home early.”
You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”
He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”
You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”
He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”
“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”
“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”
You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.
The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.
“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.
“I really missed you; I mean.”
You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”
“Mmmm.”
His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”
He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.
“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.
“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”
He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”
“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.
He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.
It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.
But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.
He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.
He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.
He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.
“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.
You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.
“Not today babe, let me do the work.”
He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.
“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”
“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”
He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.
The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.
But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.
He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.
He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”
“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”
Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.
He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”
“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.
“Eyes on me gorgeous.”
“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.
“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.
“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.
“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”
He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.
You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.
“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”
He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him. 
“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.
“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”
“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”
“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”
“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”
“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.
“I’m crazy remember?”
“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”
You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.
“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.
“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:
“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”
“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.
“No, you were better.”
He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”
“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.
“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”
He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.
He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.
You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.
“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”
FIN
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aeomianamoure · 3 days
Note
I wanna see emo Kai being a pervy loser!!
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— emo kai being your pervy loser bestfriend to boyfriend!
warnings <3: !smut, kai corrupting reader, !dark and toxic kai, !reader is sweet but a bit of a loser as well, takes place in college, !coquette reader, ddlg themes, !plot twist, kai is a bit of a stalker in this, mentions of other txt members, reader is a crybaby, mentions of smut, actual smut, free use!
a/n <3: i have a feeling ill do better writing these type of fics :3
kai was infatuated with you; from the moment his then only friend yeonjun introduced you to him, and he fears it’s only worsen more and more over time. “so kai this is y/n, and y/n this is kai” yeonjun introduced you both to eachother, “maybe now you can stop clinging onto me” yeonjun half joked hitting kai’s shoulder passive aggressively making the younger wince grabbing his now assaulted shoulder before walking away. you’d immediately frown getting closer to kai before lightly reaching out to massaging his shoulder, “he’s such a dick, im sorry kai” you’d place a light kiss on his forming bruise making kai’s eyes widen in shock as he rapidly bow his head down to you to show his gratitude
“so i was thinking for the project i could go over your house? i’d let you come over mine but my parents said no boys allowed” you’d ask kai with a small frown and kai not being able to say no to you, he’d nod his head rapidly making you smile with a excited clap before you paid attention to your assignment again causing kai to shakes his head, but then panic runs through his head thinking about how you would react once you stepped foot in his room
kai was shocked when you started gasping and oohing over his manga collection, “you like chobits too?” you’d ask carefully pulling the manga out of his shelf with a shy smile, kai still hasn’t warmed up to speaking to you much so he nods. “i always thought i was the only one who liked this type of anime at our school” you’d giggle “hey whenever we can should watch the anime together” you’d suggest and kai sighed in relief at how you seemed to like his bedroom
what he liked most about you was your kindness, your ability to see only the good in people and not being judgmental at all; “so yeonjunnie said i need to stop hanging out with you” you’d pout as you leaped into kai’s bed starling him a bit. “what? what do you mean?” he would ask his heart racing at that comment “yeonjun said you’re weird and off putting and a total loser but i think he’s just full of it! don’t worry i defended you and told him that i’d rather be your friend than his” you’d nod your head making the black haired boy smile down at you
“what are you listening to?” you come up from behind scaring the shit of kai, “holy shit y/n don’t scare me like that!” he would roll his eyes making you giggle an apology. “im listening to yeah boy and doll face by pierce the veil” and you laugh at this, “yeonjun was right you really are an emo loser” making kai roll his eyes once again before he begins to tackle you with aggressive tiggles
valentine’s day rolled around and you were sad to say the least since kai was now where to be seen that day. everyone knew you were pretty but not exactly dateable material yet it sucked being reminded that during special days like these, that was until you were surprised with a stuffed bunny in your locker. you frown your eyebrows gently cradling it into your arms tilting your head at the pink love letter attached to its limps. you being curious you open it kinda shocked but you couldn’t deny it made you blush once you’ve read it. the letter containing dirty things like how you were being watched, how in love this mysterious stalker was with you, how you failed to notice your lacy undergarments including your stockings go missing along with your lip gloss and pink ribbon bows. how pretty you looked asleep during your after school naps in nothing but a crop top and a mini skirt. but what made you turn red the most was the explicit details about wanting to take your virginity. you couldn’t lie you were a bit scared now at how this stalker knew about you still being a virgin but still excited that somebody took an interest to you even if it was a total creep.
you couldn’t deny it to yourself anymore, you were beginning to fall for your bestfriend kai. as the love letters only became more perverted and more frequent you’d begin to imagine it was kai behind all of this. you began to sleep with the thought in your head making it appear in your dreams, you became so obsessed with the idea of kai being your stalker it became the reason why you touched yourself, with needy shameful rubs as you struggled to make yourself orgasm since you really didn’t know how to but you still tried nonetheless. but after all of that trying, you still would cry yourself to sleep because of how guilty you felt to be wishing your bestfriend who has been nothing but sweet to you to be the perv sending you those letters what’s wrong with me?
you began to ignore kai making him secretly angry with you but you didn’t notice, you were too distracted with imagining him to be your stalker and then feeling ashamed of it. you thought of that idea so much you didn’t even connect the puzzle that kai really was your stalker when you opened a very angry letter on the same day kai was angry with you, the letter containing a lot of curse words along with the very violent things your stalker wanted to do to you if you didn’t stop ignoring him making you very confused.
it wasn’t until the later that night you realized the stuffed bunny you were gifted had a camera in its left eye making you flush in embarrassment as you gently tucked it under your pink bed sheets in attempt of the person who you had hoped it was kai to be able to see you sleep better
you eventually got tired of ignoring kai and you missed him so you finally answered his hundreds of text messages and phone calls apologizing and making up some excuse for your behavior sighing in worry as kai immediately forgave you also inviting you over his room for a night of anime binging and video gaming to make up for lost time
you’d tremble at kai shifting behind you placing his hands on top of yours while you carefully held onto his extra ps5 controller in attempt of showing you how to play texas chainsaw massacre; “you also have to stay still to avoid being caught by the family y/n i know it’s a lot to remember but the more you play with me the more you’ll get used to it” kai laughs sheepishly at your pout but you nod nonetheless.
later that night, you begin to drift away to sleep failing to notice your bestfriend kai sitting up behind you violently stroking his shaft with your missing lacy panties trying his best to keep quiet but it was kinda hard to when you were this close to him. eventually you woke up but kai failed to notice seeing how he was clearly busy so you decided to take matters into your own hands and gently turn around racing him latching your tiny (he thought it was tiny) fist around his cock before bringing your lips down on it making him gasp as he opens his eyes to look down at you but he’s so far gone in pleasure he doesn’t say anything. you sigh happily drinking him in your mouth as you begin to rub your pussy through your pajama shorts you couldn’t believe your dream of letting kai use your mouth as he pleases was finally coming true
you’d blush pink as you awake in kai’s arms from last night, seeing him peacefully watch you rest before remembering what happened and immediately feeling guilty for just sucking him off like that without saying anything. “kai? im really sorry for just forcing myself on you like that it was very cruel and you’re my best friend and i shouldn’t have done that it was my first time doing something so sexual and i’m really sorry i don’t know what came over me!” you’d ramble letting tears fall down your face as you hug your bestfriend apologizing over and over again. kai’s eyes soften at your apology before he lightly cradles you into his lap holding you as he whispers, “it’s okay y/n, i know you’re just a little girl and can’t help getting all needy and wanting to use your mouth with me” and you freeze, how does he know that you like that pet name?
you and kai never really spoke about what happened that sleepover, but you do use it as a way to get yourself off. the letters from your stalker getting sweet again but you’re starting to get more grumpy with how the stalker refused to reveal himself. you let out a sigh in frustration and lay down in bed reaching down between your legs rubbing your clit for the nth time that week and begin suckling on your fingers, needly whimpering at the memory of kai telling you how pretty you looked with your mouth full of cock. you let out a weak cry and a kick of your feet at how you failed to cum though before a wicked idea pops in your head as you reach over your stuffed bunny dragging it in between your thighs as you relentlessly rub against it surprising kai as he begins to watch you and he could have swore he came untouched when he heard you whine his name
“could i have some of your ice cream?” kai spoke up as you sat behind him rewatching chobits with him and you nod feeding him some. “thanks” he’d smile “you know i love you right?” he adds on nonchalantly as he turns his attention back to the tv making your blood run cold
you guys never spoke of kai’s confession, but still remained close friends frustrating you. why hasn’t he asked me to be my boyfriend already? you’d huff your cheeks out laying down in bed drifting away to sleep then kai takes his cue and steps into your room from your window smiling down at your now sleeping state. the boy held his breathe itching closer to you lifting up your bedsheets turning you gently to your back as your eyes flutter open as you immediately felt your pussy get wet again
“kai?” you spoke up seeing kai quickly undress you both but you didn’t show any sign of denying him “shh you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to fuck you” kai shushes you as you freeze. “you’ve been wanting to fuck me?” you’d smile a little blushing at the thought of being wanted. with a nod he speaks again, “ever since you sucked me off like that i haven’t been able to control myself i hope you’re not scared”
you’d gasp softly at the sight of your pussy being stretched around kai’s cock gently grabbing his forearm feeling him rut deeper and deeper into your gummy walls making your breath hitch. “be gentle” you’d hiccup “im.. im a virgin..” “i know”
“what? how did you know that?” your doe eyes weakly open again “you’re not really that dumb are you?” kai laughs menacingly at your wide eyes “come on baby really? you do know that i’m the one sending you all those letters right?” “the love letters?” you’d squeak. kai laughs again, moving to an angle to hit a specific spot in your stomach. “you think i write those letters to you out of love?”
you began to tear up feeling your pussy torn apart in two, “kai” you let out a dry sob “it hurts no more” you’d whine feeling overstimulated at how much you cummed that night “just one more baby yeah? just one more” kai hushed you and you whimpered feeling a knot in your stomach
“do you wanna be my girlfriend?” kai murmured half asleep and you nod. “you’re my boyfriend now right?” you’d speak up making kai laugh at you now waking up. “yes of course” he kisses you lightly making you squeal in delight
a/n: sorry if this isn’t the best 💔
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devilstruly · 3 days
Text
PASS IT FORWARD
pairing - timeskip. kuroo tetsuro (shocking ik) x msby manager gn. reader
summarization - being co-workers (kinda) and more than friends with kuroo comes with its pros and cons
includes - mutual pining, pining at work, distractions at work, did i mention pining, msby 4 and all the shenanigans that come with them, etc.
a/n - i've been thinking about this the whole day and i need to get it out. kinda long whoops. hopefully you'll like it tho <3
It's around 5 pm when you're finally able to sit down on one of the benches by the court, your papers and notes disregarded in your bag. Propping your chin on your hand, you watch in amusement as Atsumu sets to Sakusa and the latter hits a perfect line-shot.
The blonde is undeniably talented, anyone can see it from a mile away, but in all your months of knowing him the awe you feel never seems to falter. Not to mention the outside hitter. The curly-haired objectively handsome outside hitter.
Most times, you question the higher forces when it comes to dealing with these four, but when you have time to sit and observe them it becomes very clear why they get the amount of attention they do. All of them have these amazing qualities that seem to just lure people in. And apparently a lot of people seem to share that sentiment.
Kuroo Tetsuro included.
-
It's around 6.30 pm when Kuroo finally steps out of the JVA's main building, the light breeze causing his bangs to sway to the right.
He immediately fishes his phone out of his coat pocket, ignoring all the other messages and immediately going to his contact list.
The whole day today he was drowning in work and didn't even have a chance to text you and tell you his proposal was approved. Sponsorships flooded in, arrangements had to be made, timings discussed, and so on and so forth.
While he awaits for the steady beeps to pass and your voice to replace them, he can't help the small smile on his face.
'Hey! Finally decided to leave?'
At the sound of your voice his smile inevitably widens and he has to bite his lip to suppress it even the tiniest bit.
'Yeah, someone has to do the extra work around here.'
'Not if you're not getting paid for it you don't.'
'You have a point. It's worth it though.'
'Is it?'
Kuroo can practically see the face you're making and the image has him completely forgetting about the cold outside.
He's so focused on the warmth spreading through him, as well as all the memories from a few hours prior, it takes him a moment to register you calling out his name.
'Kuroo? You there?'
He forces himself to take a deep breath.
'They approved it.'
-
'Oh my god! Tetsu! That's fucking amazing! Congratulations!'
His deep chuckle reverberates through your phone and the swarm of butterflies in your stomach increases tenfold.
'Thank you. We should celebrate, don't you think? Dinner's on me. Invite the guys and meet me at Miya's at 7.30.'
'Okay. See you soon.'
You hang up with pride radiating of off you, so much so that even Sakusa is intrigued by your sudden spirit uplifting.
'What was that about?'
Four familiar faces surround you as your arms fly up in the air, your grin rivaling Hinata's signature smile.
'Kuroo's pitch was approved!'
A series of positively shocking statements follow, but all you can focus on is the happiness cursing through your whole body.
-
The familiar layout of Onigiri Miya greets the five of you when you step through the front door, immediately spotting Kuroo occupying one of the bigger tables. He's laughing at something Suna is showing him on his phone and for a moment your world just stops.
His hair falls every which way, due to the amount of times he ran his hand through it probably, his tie is loosened and the first two buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
And he's laughing. That horrible, loud, manic hyena laugh that has you nearly tripping over your own feet.
Everything about him is naturally beautiful, in ways you couldn't even begin to describe.
Not to mention his eyes. You could get lost in those forever. There's just something about the golden specs in them and the intensity in his gaze whenever it meets yours.
Like now.
When he looks up he finds you immediately, and if possible his grin widens. It's like his body has a mind of its own because before he knows it he's standing in front of you.
'Hi.'
'Hi.'
Atsumu rolls his eyes somewhere behind you, the action earning him a slap on the back of his head by his brother, but you can't be bothered by anything besides Kuroo.
'I'm so proud of you, Tetsu!'
Your arms envelop him in a flash and he prays you don't feel the speed of his heartbeat.
Like a puzzle, when his own arms wrap around your form it feels like a perfect fit that neither of you wants to break. Unfortunately, you eventually do, but make no effort to move further.
God those eyes.
'Get a room already!'
Atsumu's shout breaks you both out of your trance, flushed cheeks and sheepish smiles.
'Before we start, I have an announcement.'
All attention falls onto the tall man who doesn't seem at all fazed by it, another thing you admired about him.
'You all...'
He makes a long pause for dramatic effect, which earns him a slap on the arm from you.
'...Are looking at the new Special Chief of PR Department at JVA.'
'Wait, seriously?!'
'Mhm.'
The table errupts in cheers and claps and you, once again, feel that fulfilling surge of pride when you look at him.
'You're fucking amazing.'
You shake your head with fondness. Fondness that Kuroo senses when he looks at you.
Under the dim lights of Osamu's restaurant, you admire the sharpness of his jawline, the curve of his nose, the way his stupidly messy hair covers half of his right eye...And too caught up in him, you fail to notice his eyes unable to pull away from your lips.
He was already standing close, you two never seemed to care for personal space, but he takes a step closer for good measure. It seems to have the desired effect when your eyes snap up to meet his, the corner of his lips tugging upwards ever so slightly.
'Do you mind if I-'
His voice is barely above a whisper but you cut him off with a nod and zero second thoughts.
'Please do.'
The moment your lips meet it's officially game over.
It's just you two in the world, no customers, no pro-athletes throwing comments in the background, just him.
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absolutebl · 1 day
Text
GMMTV'S BL Line Up - Part 2
Presented in order of trailers I find most appealing:
youtube
The Heart Killers
FirstKhao & JoongDunk
Jojo directing an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao, and that we have a at take on Taming of the Shrew for that pair. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only really seen tackled in m/m romance (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited my only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so...
I genuinely dithered over whether this one should be first. Still it was the only trailer I grinned the whole way through, and had to watch 2x, so it takes top spot for me, but closely followed by a surprise silver medal...
youtube
Thame-Po (Heart that Skips a Beat)
EstWilliam
A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV but I've been getting a fatigued by celebrity BL of late. However, after watching the trailer I'm 100% in on this show. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea, Japan, and Thailand have systemically disappointed me over the past 2 years). Bring it, boys.
youtube
Revamp the Undead Story
BounPrem
GMMTV have taken on this IP about a vampire prince and the human who awakens him that was with WabiSabi. Interesting that GMMTV are bring out two vampire BLs as a result. This one involves a coven (hello, who called it way back in 2019? Me. I DID.) Anygay, coven includes Santa (no lies spotter with that one).
(Previously: Vampire Project from Wabi Sabi - trailer now removed, also previously My Broccoli)
Wonder if they will tank that JossGawin one? There'd likely be rioting in the streets if they did. But they might just let it fade away.
youtube
Sweet Tooth Good Dentist
MarkOhm
Finally Mark is leading out a BL! This one based on a Jittirain novel about a weird sunshine student dentist and his sugar-addicted patient, described as a romcom meets romantic therapy. Also, Jimmy is there, primarily to give me second lead syndrome. It looks silly but kinda earnest, I'm intrigued.
youtube
Perfect 10 Liners
ForceBook, PerthChimon, JuniorMark
New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. Massive cast. ForceBook playing the same old characters. Enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing. PerthChimon are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope. JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).
Not sure if these will be interwoven (My Engineer style) or shorter stand alones (Y-Destiny style).
youtube
The Ex-Morning
SingtoKrist
This is an original script written just for the OG, direct by Lit (SOTUS) about a news reporter plagued by scandal must work with his ex-boyfriend to rebuild his reputation. A reunion romance that's hitting pretty close to the IRL pair branded mark.
I've never claimed these two had any kind of chemistry and that would appear to still be the case. I think this one will bore me silly. I'm contemplating a trash watch but feel that's best reserved for...
youtube
Ossan‘s Love Thailand
EarthMix
WHY MUST THIS BE?!! I really don't like this IP but I still HAVE OPINIONS (of course I do) Look, I doubt even legendary EarthMix can save Ossan for me.
Shall I explain? Too much, let me sum up:
It's a terrible script based entirely on an unsympathetic love triangle, the viability of the whole show actually hinges on the boss character so he MUST be likable, because the lead is an unsympathetic looser (and user of people), and the roommate/love interest has no personality. Looks like this version is doing the same. ALSO Earth is grossly miss-cast. (On the other hand, maybe I'll like it more because of that, I would rather my H were toned down a bit.) Finally... where tf are my ladies? The female characters were the best thing about the original.
Of course I'll still watch it. I'm trash.
My order based on descriptions (and biases) before watching trailers was:
The Heart Killers
Revamp
Sweet Tooth
Perfect 10 Liners
ThamePo
The Ex-Morning
Ossan’s Love Thailand
Now that we have finally gotten part 2 I have only one burning question left for GMMTV.
Why didn't my man Thor get to lead something, damn it?
I will also take this as an opertunity to remind you all that my predictions about my own taste are notorious terrible.
(source)
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04/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Astroglide; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; OFMD Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika
== David Jenkins ==
Chaos Dad popped out to send some love and support today!
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Img Src: David Jenkins Twitter
= Taika Waititi =
Well, Taika broke the internet today with his Belvedere commercial. Directed and starred in it. Be sure to open a window because it is hot.
youtube
= Samba Schutte =
Samba has started up a new T Shirt campaign to benefit the charity @everymomcounts that helps to make pregnancy and childbirth, safe and equitable! You can either buy a #CrewForLife t-shirt, or sign up for one of his baking classes/meet and greets!
Our Merch Means Death on Stands
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Delicious Chaos with Samba Schutte
== Vico Ortiz ==
Vico starred in a short called Fire F*cking Fire and great news it's headed to the Tribeca Film Festival in June!
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Img Src: Vico Ortiz IG
== Astroglide ==
Our besties over at @astroglideofficial put out a word search today with a few words/phrases you'll recognise!
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Img Src: Astroglide Twitter
== Articles ==
Warner Bros. Stock Has Had a Rough Year. Why This Analyst Thinks It Will Get Even Worse.
Mark Indelicato Frustrated With Queer Shows Constantly Cancelled
== Fan Spotlight ==
== Cast Cards ==
Our fabulous @melvisik has another cast card for us! Tonight's is another one of the bourgeousie that Frenchie and Olu manageed to include in their Pyramid Scheme! They are the one that Olu told to "Go Away"!
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Img Src: @melvisik's Twitter
== Never Left Podcast ==
Next episode of the podcast Never Left is out! This one is Beautiful Princess Disorder Part 5!
Never Left Instagram
Never Left Linktr.ee
== OFMD Colouring Pages ==
More colouring pages from the fantastic @patchworkpiratebear ! Visit their tumblr for more!
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== Love Notes ==
Hey there Lovelies. Happy Taika Tuesday! Did you have a good day today?
Dad's comments today brought out a lot of folks sharing their stories on therapy and I wanted to chat about it for a moment.
First of all, if you're delving out for the first time (or trying again after years of not going)-- just know, you're being really brave. Depending on where you come from and your background, mental health may not have been something that your family prioritized (or maybe it was but therapy was never an option). It can be pretty scary to talk to someone you don't know about your inner most worries. You're taking a big step, and I'm proud of you for that.
You've looked at your situation, whatever tough things you're experiencing, and you've decided to prioritize you and your mental health-- and that's amazing. It's a hard decision to make sometimes, and as simple as it should be, it's not that easy. I'm so happy that mental health is talked about and therapy is so much more accepted now a days. Growing up I was in a situation where we "didn't talk about ourselves to other people" and that can be so very lonely when you are feeling really down.
I wanted to mention a couple things that I didn't know going into therapy-- in case they help at all, but obviously every experience is different, so feel free to take or leave the advice :)
Firstly, therapy doesn't solve things overnight. Sometimes it'll take weeks, or months, or years to unpack some of the things you really need to work through. It'll take time. When I went to therapy for the first time, for some reason I thought I'd just be able to dump all my problems out on a table and the therapist would pick one and we'd work on it. Instead it was a gradual thing, where they got to know me, I got to know them, and the more we talked the more we were able to unravel. I just don't want you to get discouraged if it takes longer than you planned, it's definitely a process.
Secondly, something to remember, is not all therapists are going to vibe with you. It took me a few tries before I found a therapist that really worked well with me. If you don't feel like it's helping, consider looking into a different therapist, sometimes it's not the therapy that you're struggling with, but just a mismatched vibe with your therapist. If you can help it-- don't give up right away, try another, I was really grateful that I did.
Thirdly, and if you're like me, this is a tough one. Remember to advocate for yourself. Sometimes a therapist may want to try certain therapies, or exercises, and it's something you've tried and just isn't working for you, or they want to go a medication route and you dont, or maybe they're saying something you disagree with. Remember you're your own advocate here, and they're here to help you, not hinder you from getting to where you want to be. Speak up for yourself if you can.
Lastly, therapy, especially the first few, don't always end in happy feelings. Think of it like a muscle in your leg that you haven't been using for years...and it's atrophied. You have to build that muscle back up, and it can really hurt occasionally during that time. You might leave therapy feeling worse once or twice because you're finally letting out some of that vitriol you've been holding onto for so long. It should feel better later.. maybe the next day, but it may not feel great the same day. That's a perfectly reasonable experience to have, and if you feel awesome, that is too!
Anyway lovelies, not sure if that helps, but I wanted to share it just in case it helped someone.
Whether you're going to therapy tomorrow, or soon, or ever, or never, I am really proud of you. You're doing what you need for you, and that's the most important thing. You deserve good things, and healthy thoughts and positive feelings. You really do. You got this <3
== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==
Tonight's theme is hats <3 Taika Gif Courtesy of the phenomenal @ofmd-ann, Darby gif Courtesy of the lovely @funforahermit
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triassictriserratops · 18 hours
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I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)
ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD. She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?" Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine! "YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU." BUT NOW Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT. The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed. A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink. "What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill. "This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that. "Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet. "Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?" "No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch. "Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead. "I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact. "Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you." That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11. For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients. But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others. After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself. Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles. "Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."
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aireia · 2 days
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Oh universe! — What happens when you fall in love with the vice president of the student council?
tw/cw: gn! reader, fluff + crack(?). gojo's an idiot. not proofread + rushed. author is stupidly sick, fic makes zero sense.
note: don't expect too much from this fic D: —masterlist
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The universe has a love-hate relationship with Satoru. No, screw that, it’s against Satoru Gojo. It’s against his relationship between him and the person standing beside him in the student council room, because he can no longer count how many times he’s tried to confess to you, and gotten interrupted by another student pulling you or him away. 
Now, he knows both of you are busy as leaders in the student council, and he’s fairly popular too, but that doesn’t have any business to meddle with his love life! Especially because he’s also lost track of how much money he’s spent on these failed confessions – excluding the tubs of ice cream he buys after each one to comfort himself. (Suguru and Shoko have to take some away from him to prevent him from eating that much sugar.)
“How many is that?” Suguru asked his brunette friend as they both stared out the window at the scene of you being dragged away by students while Satoru sighed in defeat. “I dunno, sixth? Maybe seventh? We just need to make sure he doesn’t eat enough desserts to get himself sick. Y/n told me something about a meeting they would be having tomorrow about our graduation trip.” “Just bribe him with the fact that they’re going to be there. He’ll be sure to return back to whatever he’s on before all the confessions.”
-
“Really?!” Satoru’s eyes lit up right before he managed to grab the 2nd tub of strawberry ice cream. “...Are you really the president of the student council? How do you not know about this?” “I was only focusing on y/n when they said the news.” 
That caused both his friends’ faces to contort into disgust. Maybe they shouldn’t have told him and let him miss the meeting instead, but you’d probably be kind enough to find him before the meeting and drag him there.
-
“A trip to the mountains…” you mumbled to yourself as you scanned through the papers that were handed out during the meeting. You had been assigned to take care of accommodations. Satoru, on the other hand, was devastated . He had been assigned to take care of the food. No doubt all of you would be getting kikufuku for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days straight.
That would’ve been the case, if he didn’t drag you to multiple cafes to plan the trip. Granted, he did treat you to a lot of your favourite snacks and drinks, so going out with him wasn’t that bad. 
The both of you sat in silence most of the time, surprisingly. Sometimes the snowy haired male would sneak in some small talk, but the only time you spoke half the time would be for each other’s opinions. Satoru tried to get you to agree to the worst diets you’ve seen in your entire life. You rejected. 
You tried to propose a few spots to stay in. and Satoru agreed to most of them, though you scrapped your own ideas just moments after he agreed. 
-
You breathed out through your mouth, watching as puffs of smoke escaped your lips. You were standing on the balcony of your room. Staring at the city you call home from the mountains. 
“There you are.” Someone draped a blanket over your trembling body. It’s Satoru, you noted. You could recognise his voice even in a room full of people. “You made a good choice choosing this place. The view is pretty.” Satoru sang words of praise to you, joining you on the balcony. 
“Thank you,” you responded, not bothering to look at him. A long period of silence ensued between the both of you, and Satoru found it to be torture. You’re alone, right? That means he can confess. But how? He looks at your lips. They’re trembling from the cold. 
“Your lips look cold. Do you think I could warm them up for you?” his words spilled out before he processed it. You looked at him weirdly before laughing.
“Is that… How you confess to people?” you continued to laugh, and it reminded him of the first breeze of spring. Playful, calm, refreshing from the cold from winter. Once he realised what he had said, he choked on air and stuttered out, “It’s not! I swear it’s just–” Satoru tried to find the words to explain himself, his head now working overtime to search for the vocabulary that left his mind when these types of situations happened. 
You grinned and cupped his cheeks before pulling him down to gently kiss him, only pulling away once the both of you had relaxed. You couldn’t help but smile at the dust of pink on his face. You were sure there were some on your cheeks too.
“Yea, it is warmer now.”
Maybe the universe isn’t all that against him after all.
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by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.
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heich0e · 10 hours
Text
there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.
you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.
"you up yet?"
it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.
you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.
he's got his coat on.
"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.
touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.
you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."
touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.
"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."
he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.
"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.
"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.
"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"
"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."
he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.
"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.
"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."
he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.
"d'ya want anything?"
you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.
"can you get pickled ginger?"
"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."
"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.
"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."
"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"
touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.
"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."
"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.
outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.
"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"
touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.
"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.
you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.
he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.
there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.
he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.
touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.
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justfangirlstuffs · 2 days
Text
So Much More
Adjustment periods can be difficult, job hunting even more so. But an unexpected visitor comes to provide a pleasant distraction. (Takes place after A Saltwater Room.) You x Sea Slug Moon
Wordcount: 2900
cw: slightly suggestive
Sea Slug AU belongs to @scarredlove
“Hello, sea star,” a voice spoke from your open bedroom window, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
You whipped around to see Moon climbing in through your window, his red eyes gleaming bright with delight and mischief. "Moon, you shouldn't be here," you muttered, hurriedly going to your bedroom door and closing it, locking it for good measure so no one came in unannounced. Your aunt said she'd be working late, and your cousin was staying the night elsewhere but... couldn't be too careful.
It had been several days since you'd been reunited with Moon and his siblings, Sun and Eclipse. Once you had believe them to be simple if not strange sea slugs that you had loved and lost years ago. Only to discover that in truth, they were some manner of mythical sea creature. Sea slugs, yet so much more than that. More than you could have ever guessed.
Honestly, you were still getting used to having them back in your life. It had been so long since you've seen them. They were so different, and you were different too. Time had chafed you, made you rough and tender around the edges. It didn't help that you were already going through an immense transition in your life. So suddenly having them back in your life... it was a lot.
"And yet, here I am," Moon giggled mischievously, leaning on the wall near the window.
The moonlight cast his shadow on the wall and reflected on his dazzling robes, the patterns of bio luminescence drawing your gaze with their mesmerizing beauty. His eyes were shining with amusement but he didn't look like he had any bad or malicious intentions.
His voice softened a margin. "Don't be mad... I just wanted to see you.”
The words cause an undeniable, split-second lift to your mood. When was the last time someone said those words to you? It felt like forever... "I'm not mad," you said quickly, wanting to reassure him in some form or fashion. You sat back down at your desk, with the newspaper classified ads spread out before you. "You guys just have a habit of showing up without warning. It can be..." What was a tactful way to put it? "...stressful."
The antennae on his hood twitched and drooped a bit. You didn't know it, but your words did make him feel a bit guilty. After all, he was known for sometimes being very intrusive and showing up unexpectedly, even when he's uninvited or at undesirable times. He took a step forward, leaning forward over your desk but not yet invading your personal space. Though by the look in his eyes it was on his mind.
"Well...we're family, right?" he said, as if that was enough of a justification for his actions. His head tilted to the side, his expression softening as his shoulders drooped a little. "Besides... aren't you happy to see me?"
You thought about that question. Which, yeah, wild that you even had to think about it. Most people would probably find it weird; shouldn't you be able to just.... know how you feel? Yet you had to pause, and reflect, and try and identify your mental state. And then you had to find the words to express it. It was like wading through static.
"I'm not unhappy," you said finally, looking at him sincerely. "And I'm not asking you to leave."
Moon was slightly taken back by your answer, but his eyes glimmered with amusement. "Well, that's a good start." He leaned a bit further on your desk, slowly closing the gap that was between you and him. "But you're not totally pleased by my presence either, are you? You're just tolerating it, is that right?" The corners of his lips curved upwards, as if he was daring you to try to lie.
"It's not that, it's just..." You bit your lip and glanced away from him, looking down at the multitude of jobs you'd either circled or crossed out. Such a simple task, yet for you it had been a monolith chore. "I just don't feel like I'm the greatest company right now."
He let his lips thin out, the smirk was replaced by concern. This wasn't the response he was hoping for. It might not be the worst that he could have heard, but it was not the best answer he could've gotten. His expression softened, his body became less imposing and he sat down on the bed beside your desk, gazing at you whilst taking care not to cross your personal space.
"Are you not feeling alright?" He asked earnestly, you could tell he was genuinely concerned for you and not just asking out of politeness.
Wasn't that a loaded question? But thankfully at least you had an immediate source of stress you could identify and voice.
"I need to find a job." You sighed, pinching bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. "I've been applying to various places but... I keep getting rejected."
It was tiring, and it was stressful, and it was such a soul sucking ordeal. Putting in the effort, waiting to hear back, only to be overlooked or declined. Not exactly a boon towards your self-esteem.
"Why do you need a job?" he asked curiously, head tilted to the side. He was still sitting near you, his legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. It was such an ordinary position but something about it made him seem even more approachable and calm. It was a stark contrast to his usual self that often seemed impish and playful.
"Because... I need to make money. I need to help out. I can't.... I can't be a waste of space." You voice broke over those last three words, like glass shattering against rocks. Tears burned your eyes as your anxiety swelled.
Moon's eyes widened in shock at your sudden breakdown, you looked... fragile and vulnerable, yet your words had an underlying tone of determination to them. You spoke as if you were ashamed and have to pay for simply existing in this world. His expression softened, he immediately reached out and grasped your hand. His skin was soft and cool, the texture far too smooth and alien to be human, yet it felt comforting.
"You're not a waste of space," he said in a quiet voice, his long fingers carefully lacing with yours. "Not to me. To me, you're... so much more than that."
Tears dripped down your face, and even though his words didn't completely calm your fears, they were until to keep you from getting pulled under by the riptide of anxiety. Moon's touch and genuine affection was like a life preserver keeping you afloat on rough waters. You were still getting tossed, but you weren't drowning.
"Thank you," you murmured, giving his hand a firm squeeze.
"Anytime," he answered, continuing to speak in that soft and gentle way. "And also..." He hesitated for a moment, but he looked at you. His gaze was sincere and genuine, like he wanted to say something but afraid of ruining the mood. "You can always come to me when you're feeling like this. I just... don't want you to be alone during these difficult times. Not again."
That managed to bring a small smile to your face, and you sniffled, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. "I'll keep that in mind, if I ever want to pal around with a troublemaker like you."
"Aww, troublemaker, huh?" He chuckled, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across his face as he squeezed your hand a bit. "A compliment from you? What a surprise. I feel honored."
A snort of mirth erupted from you and you had to grab some tissues to clear out your sinuses before you felt a little better. Moon shifted slightly in his seat, trying to get comfortable, though it's evident that all he wants to do is to get closer to you. He gave your hand a small tug, silently urging you to sit on the bed with him. You gave a heavy sigh but decided to let him pull you away from work to plop onto your mattress beside him.
"Wanna know a secret?" he asked, his antennae twitching restlessly.
"Oh, a secret?" you murmured, giving your voice an edge of conspiratorial playfulness. "Now I feel honored."
"It's about you." The glint in his eyes was impish and his smirk indicated that he was up to something. "But don't tell anyone, alright? Keep it between yourself and your old pal Moon."
"My lips are sealed." You drew your hand across your mouth like you were closing a zipper. "So, what's the secret?"
"The secret is..." He shifted his body closer to you - close but not too close- and you caught the scent of sea breeze and something sweet... like watermelons. His gaze sharpened on you, as if he was studying every small detail about your face.
His smile was still etched right across his features and you could practically feel his excitement building up. He took a deep breath as if he was about to tell you something that was forbidden. He whispered the words into your ear.
"You're beautiful." He had finally found a word that fit perfectly for what he wanted to say, and he just had to say it. His grin brightened up into a big smile, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Your heart stuttered in your chest and suddenly heat was overwhelming your face like you'd just stepped out into the mid-afternoon sun. "O-Oh..."
Moon observed the effect his words had on you. Your blush, your fluttering heart beat, the way your breath seemed to come out all too lightly and quickly. He took note of all of them. His smile didn't falter, neither did his gaze. He took a risk, he was now closer to you, you could feel his robes brushing against your skin, gently caging you like the most lovely and velvety cage imaginable. His hand was still gripping yours as he stayed silent, letting the moment linger. He wanted you to experience it, to savor it and to feel it's warmth.
Your heart thumped loudly at the sudden proximity and you eased back just a little bit. Even after all these years, it seemed Moon was still a cuddly little guy... except he wasn't little anymore. And your perceptions of him were vastly different from how they were when you were younger.
"H-How have you been?" you asked. It was an attempt at regaining some control of the situation, yet it was also a question that had been on your mind every since you re-discovered them.
Despite the sudden change of subject Moon didn't seem to mind. He chuckled, his fingers still holding yours, his thumb tenderly brushing over your heated skin.
"I've been alright. Though..." His voice became quieter, and you had to concentrate a bit to hear it. "I've really missed you."
"I missed you too..."
A thousand apologies got stuck in your throat, choking off your next words. You'd had no idea that Moon and his brothers had been lingering so close to home. If you had, you would have come back sooner. Instead, you had stayed away, the bittersweet memories too painful to revisit. Yet another thing to pile onto your list of regrets.
He nodded and a brief flash of concern crossed his expression, as if he could sense the guilt in you. "You don't have to say it, I know." He smiled, a slight pity in it. This moment was no longer filled with light or laughter, it was heavy and full of regret.
"The past years... have definitely been hard on all of us," He finally said, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you. "Especially to you."
You shook your head, already guilty that you'd managed to bring down a pleasant mood. "I'm fine. I've been... managing." That felt like such a lie. You didn't feel like you've been managing at all. "Really, I'm... I'm dealing with it. I'd much rather hear about you."
The fact that you tried to dismiss the conversation with a quick 'I'm fine...' made him feel even more pity for you. He noticed your reluctance to talk about it. You were still dealing with something and you weren't ready yet. You needed more time, and that was something he was aware of.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked, his voice softer, gentler than before. He looked at you, and you could see that he took your feelings more seriously.
"Of course," you said quickly, eager for a change of topic. Eager for something to distract you from the heavy weight that seemed to constantly be anchoring you.
He shifted his body again, his long legs now crossed over each other, his robes fanning out across the bed like a gleaming river or waterfall. His eyes scanned every part of your face as if searching for something. Finally, he took a deep breath, then spoke again.
"You know, I thought I'd find you so different. You had been gone for so long, I thought you were going to be..." He broke the silence again. "Different."
A burble of laughter erupted up. Though it was more of an expression of surprise than actual mirth. "You mean I'm not?"
"No... not really." He shifted once again, now leaning slightly closer, his eyebrows curling upwards with curiosity. "I think you're still you. I was expecting to see a complete stranger here. But you're still you. Everything that I remembered is still there. You're still adorable, you're still kind, and you're still so very warm." He smirked, his gaze was now intense as he stared at you closely. "Are you still ticklish, though?"
Your eyes widened and before you could react Moon pounced. You feel back on the bed, squirming as Moon began tickling you. "Moon! Moon! Stop! I can't... Noooooooo!" You screeched between fits of laughter as you kicked and squirmed.
Moon laughed, amused by the sight. He began to tickle you ruthlessly, his fingers quickly exploring every inch of your stomach, sides, and even underneath your arms. His laughter became so intense that he almost couldn't breathe. "I've missed doing this to you so much, little crab," he confessed between giggles. "And I missed the noises you make."
He eased up a bit and you had a moment to catch your breath, wheezing and giggling as you stare up at him. You were entirely sure what he meant. Was he referring to the times when you would take him out of his tank and let him crawl along your arms and neck? That had to be it.
"You are such a gremlin," you muttered, but the comment was said with affection. A lot had changed but... it seemed Moon wasn't all that different either.
"The cutest gremlin you'll ever meet," he replied, his voice dripping with mischief.
Moon leaned down towards your face, his hands still on your stomach as he gave you a big smile. He giggled with you, both of you were red in the face from laughing and from being tickled, and yet the two of you seemed so happy at that moment. He shifted slightly, trying to get a bit closer to you, his hands gently moving to your legs.
He leaned down, his face close to yours. "You know what I miss the most?"
The mood seemed to suddenly shift, and like the lurch of a car turning too quickly, you found yourself a little unsteady as you stared up at him. "Wh-what?" you spluttered out.
"Your scent," he said, his voice was very quiet and calm. He had moved even closer, he was breathing out in hot puffs on your face, and you could see his chest rising and falling. His gaze went down as he looked at you, his hands were still firmly on your legs, but he had made no sudden movements.
“Your taste.” Once again, one of his hands found yours, effortlessly threading them together as though that were their natural state. There was a calmness in the still, the air was heavier, a bit more intense, but not in a bad way. His voice was very soft and sincere, almost as if he was trying to tell you something.
"And your kisses," he finally said. This moment was finally ripe, it gave him the chance to see if you were still open to the idea. He was now even closer to you. His gaze pierced through yours, as if looking for an answer in them.
Staring up at him, you found yourself at a loss for words. He couldn't possibly mean what you were thinking, right? Sure, you used to kiss him. But he'd been just a little slug you could hold in the palm of your hand. But now he was... he was... what?
Before you could say or do anything, a stream of water shot across the room and hit Moon in the face, splashing against his cheek. You jumped as Moon hissed in surprise. The both of you looked around to see his brother, Sun, standing in your room with a squirt bottle in his hand and a far too wide smile on his face. To be continued...
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godsandvillains-if · 15 hours
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Slight nsfw!
Hello!!! If you are still open to scenarios, could I ask how would RO's react if they were getting all hot and bothered with MC ready to do some horizontal tango, but before they start, they want to make sure that MC wants this too, so they ask something along the lines "Are you really sure you want to have sex?" and clueless MC is just like "sex?" tilts their head to the side, confused puppy style "What's sex?" xdd (i also had another version of this scene in my head, something like RO finally kissing MC, and MC not understanding how relationships work or what kissing means is like "What did you do?  Why? Are you hungry?? It was nice, but I wont let you eat me?!?!")
Would they throw their hands in frustration at how dumb MC is? Or start explaining about birds and bees? Or take a cold shower? xD
OMG, I just cracked up with this scenario 🤣🤣
I think Ace and Zodiac will both back away from the MC as if burned at first. As they are considerably older than the MC, they will be more concerned that the MC understands EVERYTHING so they can actually comprehend what they are consenting to. I think that both of them will be the best options to teach the MC the birds and the bees in a way that doesn't seem condescending. 
Stardom will first think that the MC is pulling their leg, but as realization sets in and the MC continues to look at them like a confused puppy, they will withdraw from the situation almost completely. The idea of them taking the MC's virginity is a HUGE deal for them.
Paladin would just freeze on the spot, not knowing what to do; the situation was already hard enough on its own, given Paladin's past experiences. Introducing a MC that doesn't have a clue about what being intimate with someone means... My guy/girl will need a few days to process it.
I think Archon would be the most level-headed of the team. They would be surprised, of course, but like most things, they would take it in stride, adapting to the unexpected situation rather quickly. It's safe to say that they wouldn't want to go any further if the MC wasn't comfortable with it or if they didn't know what sex meant 100%.
Wildcat would try their damn hardest to hold back and keep their hands from traveling where they shouldn't. They have zero experience with this kind of talk, and they never in a billion years thought they would have to explain to an adult what sex is, so please have patience while they freak out.
Mars, surprisingly, knows more than anyone about what the MC went through at the hands of the terrorists, so they already expected the MC to not know about some common things. There's a side to Mars that would surprise most people, but the MC gets to see it often, and that side is of a patient and caring person.
Thanks for the question!! 🥰
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