#but just know I see u and your integrity has dropped more than a couple notches on my personal perception of u

[milktei]

I would love to see your take on a cafe au! preferably with a genshin man heheh

People Watching

Diluc Ragnvindr x gn!Reader

Genre: Based off of People Watching by Conan Gray, Modern AU, Cafe AU, FLUFF (can u believe it?

Warnings: none

Requests: Open!

Also posted on ao3

a/n: my first request so exciting! Ahhhh let me tell you anon i was kicking my feet all giddily while writing this. Hopefully this meets you expectations! Sorry if it’s a little jumpy(?). I was listening to music while thinking of this au so I took the idea and ran with it.

Song fics aren’t usually my thing ironically (don’t get me started in one’s with lyrics between the paragraphs) but I was ✨inspired✨ and integrated the song into the framework of what I already had :). Also I’m a sucker for soft and awkward Diluc he might be ooc to some but fight me I think he has a soft side.

Owning and working at a cafe meant that you got to know your regulars quite well as time went on.

Diluc knew that better than anyone.

Albedo is a chemistry major who takes alarming amount of espresso shots in his drinks. Lisa works at the library and likes milk in her tea. If he sees Thoma, he knows to prepare for a big order. His internal list could go on and on.

Working at a cafe also meant a plethora of couples would come and go, as cafes have always been popular places to go on dates. Asking someone if they wanted to grab a cup of coffee always seemed to be the easiest way to tell someone you wanted to spend time with them.

To Diluc, couples were more interesting to learn about. They would stay at his cafe for hours, and talk about their lives as if nobody else was around. Diluc knew them better than he let on.

The girl who laughs at her boyfriend’s joke to the point of tears, even if it wasn’t funny.

The couple with stars in their eyes, who still count their relationship by the month rather than the year.

49 months; over 4 years.

A teenage boy recites another’s complicated order off the top of his head with ease.

Another gushes to his friend about the reasons he loves his partner.

Of course they’re not all sweet

A woman in her late 20s smiles down sadly at the ring on her ring finger.

“No we’re not engaged, this is just a promise ring… hopefully soon though!”

A man grips his cup tighter in his hands.

“They said they wanted to take a break.”

Diluc was known to others as a dark, brooding, and emotionless man. Yet despite what the few people that knew him thought, deep down he yearned to feel that same love and onslaught of emotions he heard people gush about as he worked.

It could be frustrating sometimes, the way people teased him for being cold, or soulless.

Sometimes he just wanted to yell out into the world that he was in fact capable of feeling emotions. That he wanted to bring love back into his life after being depraved if it for so long.

That when he was young he dreamed of owning a typical home in the suburbs, even a family to call his own.

Diluc wanted the good and the bad parts of love, the kisses and the fights.

It was easier said than done.

There are parts to Diluc that are broken. He had been hurt by those close to him multiple times. He had dated in the past but it was never serious enough to evolve into something more.

Cutting someone out of his life was not nearly as hard as letting someone in.

Diluc decided to resort to simply people watching. An easy hobby to have when you work at a cafe. Making drinks by pure muscle memory whilst ease dropping and watching his regulars through his peripheral vision.

In a way, he was living through his customers vicariously. On slow days he would even find himself making up stories of them. There was only so much stuff to clean after all.

“I’ll get an iced matcha latte please.”

Diluc was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. You were new, a student he guessed from the bag on your back.

“What size?” Diluc managed to ask before the pause in the exchange got awkward.

You hummed thoughtfully, “just a medium please,” you turned your head to the pastries in the display case and Diluc could see excitement in your face when you saw the freshly made shortbread cookies.

“and three of those please.” you pointed.

The corner of Diluc’s mouth twitched ever so slightly as he punched in your order “can I get a name for your order?”

“y/n”

Diluc gave you your total and tried not to pay any attention to your hand brushing his as you handed him your cash. He nodded in gratitude when you immediately dropped your change into the tip jar without a second thought.

“Oh, will that be for here or to go?” diluc asked suddenly. It was unlike him to forget a part of his usual script, he wouldn’t have needed to ask for your name if he already knew you were staying. Still a part of him was glad he had learnt it.

You looked out at the cafe and smiled “I’ll stay.”

“Great, I’ll get everything out to you in just a moment. Please, feel free to sit anywhere you’d like.”

You gave him another sweet smile and walked over to a table by the window. A popular spot usually taken by couples and avoided by groups due to it only having two chairs.

as Diluc made your drink, he watched as you pulled a laptop and notebook from your bag. Your pencil case, and earbuds came next, and slowly you began to adjust everything to become your perfect study space.

After placing the cookies onto a plate then onto a tray that already held your finished drink, Diluc walked to your table and gently placed it down.

“For you y/n”

You looked up at Him and quickly moved your belongings so he had room to place down the tray. “thank you.”

Diluc made his way back to behind the counter and grinned when he saw, through his peripheral vision, your eyes widen in amazement as you tasted your drink. Taking it as a small success, Diluc happily began cleaning the supplies he had used.

-

You came to the cafe often after your initial visit

You always came to the cafe alone, so instead of overhearing what was going on in your life like he usually would, Diluc found himself getting to know you through your habits, and what little small talk was made as you paid.

You often came to the cafe after class to study, and took public transit to get around.

You shuffled your music but hit skip until the right song came on.

You chewed your straw as you read, and flipped your pencil as you thought.

I never knew Diluc could be such a creep. He heard a certain voice tease, but Diluc couldn’t help that he simply found himself enamoured with you without caution.

“See you tomorrow Diluc!” Charles waved as he left the cafe at the end of his shift. Diluc wordlessly waved back as he brushed down the espresso machine.

He glanced up at the large windows of the cafe and frowned at the darkening sky. Despite what the weather forecast had said in the morning, it seemed like it was about to start pouring any moment.

His suspicion was confirmed the moment he heard the beginnings of rainfall tapping on the glass.

He looked over at you. In your usual spot, seemingly in your own world as you typed away at your laptop.

“I don’t suppose you brought an umbrella with you?”

He had spoken without thinking, mentally scolding himself as you jumped and broke away from your studying mindset.

You wordlessly looked outside and he saw your shoulders droop ever so slightly. You turned to him and sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

“I didn’t. Are you closing now?”

You thought he was kicking you out. He mentally hit himself.

“No no I was just wondering since it seems to be coming down quite hard. You’re welcome to stay and wait it out for as long as you’d like.” Diluc had rushed the last sentence, nearly desperate to get the words out. Heat creeped to his face from embarrassment and he prayed to the archons that you couldn’t see.

You smiled at him “Thank you Diluc, hopefully it won’t take too long for the rain to let up.”

Diluc had to force himself not to melt on the spot as you said his name, he nodded and cleared his throat, turning around to busy himself with work and not embarrass himself any further.

As he wiped the counter yet again, his hand brushed up against a container of cocoa powder, Diluc paused. He looked over his shoulder and saw you slowly begin typing again.

He didn’t want to bother you again… But a sudden wave of confidence was slowly rising in him, and if he didn’t do anything now, he was certain he never would.

-

A steaming mug was placed down gently beside your laptop.

Your typing came to a stop again and your stared at the mug before slowly turning to your gaze to the redhead standing at your table, giving him a look urging him to explain.

“I always thought that hot chocolate was perfect to enjoy during this type of weather.” Diluc said as he smiled nervously.

“Oh! Thank you.” you said in shock, there was a pause before you reached into you bag in search of your wallet.

Diluc waved his hands, “there’s no need, really, it’s on the house.”

You blinked in surprise “Thank you again Diluc you didn’t have to.”

There was an another longer lapse in the conversation, you stared at the empty chair across from you.

“Would you like to join me? You can make yourself a cup, I’ll wait for you.” You felt your heart race as the weight of your impulsive worlds registered in your mind, “O-of course you don’t have to! I’m sure your busy so only if you want-“

“That sounds lovely.”

You nearly sighed in relief as Diluc stopped you from rambling even further and you smiled sheepishly at him as he quickly made his way back to the counter and quickly made his drink. In the mean time you busied yourself with putting away all your school supplies.

You were finishing zipping up your bag, Diluc had made his way back the table. As he sat down, that is when you noticed that he had taken off his apron.

Diluc himself was thinking about how strange it was to be sitting in a spot he usually watched from afar.

You sat back in your seat and grabbed your mug, Diluc did the same, and it was silent save for the rain as you two sipped at your drinks.

“So,” you started before clearing your throat “besides giving customers free drinks is there any else you do on slow days like this?”

You took another sip of your drink and Diluc smiled at the sight of you looking down at it as if there were sparkles in you eyes, the way you did when you tasted something you deemed particularly delicious.

“This happens to be a special case.” your eyes widened slightly and Diluc had to restrain himself from outwardly celebrating at the sight of your visibly flustered face. Perhaps this was a good idea after all.

“There’s not a whole lot to do besides cleaning and making sure my machines aren’t broken, but I’ve picked up some hobbies.” Diluc continued, finally answering your question.

You placed down your cup, “Such as?”

“People watching.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x gnreader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #diluc imagines #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x you

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #spencer reid request #reid request #reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #professor spencer reid #prof reid #prof spencer reid #prof!reid #professor reid #post prison spencer #post prison reid #post-prison reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid self insert #my gif

[homieswithhades]

why steve rogers returning to the past was wrong

disclaimer: im clearly a stucky enthusiast, but please, do not be thrown off by that. i admit, there may be undertones of bias because of that in the following, but i did my best with trying to lay out the facts and draw logical conclusions, so do please give me a chance. also, i may have accidentaly omitted some moments and some quotes may not be 100% word for word, as my memory lowkey sucks. ALSO this is NOT a peggy hate post!! i think shes a dope and underrated character and quite frankly she was done dirty. but i also definitely h8 the trope of badass woman falls for the hero.

first and foremost, every sane person knows endgame was complete and utter bullshit when dealing with steves character, so this post will be more for you to maybe show (and hopefully convince) some stubborn friend or family member. nice, concise (not) and including proof from the movies (+a few tweets and stucky undertones, if u dont fw that i respect it but bucky is an integral part to steves character regardless of how u interpret their relationship) here is why steves character development was thrown away at the end of endgame.

let us begin at looking at the cap trilogy.

in ca:tfa it should be noted that steve had no one to return to in the 40s, except bucky. i believe steves relationship with peggy was no where near as developed as it should have been to elicit him returning exclusively for her. as we are aware, steves driving force has absolutely always been bucky. bucky was there for steve after his parents died, when he was sick, and always protected him from whatever trouble he got himself into. "until the end of the line" right? steves relationship with peggy was forced and short lived, literally, we're talking a matter of months here. i need to keep emphasising the important disparity between bucky and peggy, as it is absolutely key in this whole argument. steve dropped everything and went against every order just to even attempt to save bucky. even the slightest chance of him surviving being captured was enough for steve to break into a hydra camp and free the 107th division. steve even had the chance to capture zola, one of the main villains and masterminds of the war, but again, steve prioritised bucky. when theyre trying to escape the exploding hydra camp, the exchange between steve and bucky is critical. steve says "go! get out of here!" as all he wanted was bucky escaping safely. he put bucky's life over his own (this wasnt the first time he did this, nor the last) but bucky rooted himself to the spot, and yelled back "no, not without you!". they both escaped safely as we know, and then steve gathers the howling commandos to take down the red skull. bucky then falls off the train, nd steve blames himself for his death, even visibly crying over it twice. steves morals went from "i dont wanna kill anyone. i dont like bullies, i dont care where theyre from" before buckys death, to "i wont stop until all of hydra are dead or captured" after. stuff happens and steve defeats the red skull and is now in control of the flying ship with the bombs. he connects the comms with peggy and she tries to convince him theres another way to disarm the ship. steve was so dedicated at that point he didnt even want to hear it. he didnt even attempt to do anything to ensure his survival. this alone proves, peggy was not important enough to him to return to.

next is ca:tws. The stevebucky movie. in the museum, peggy confirms that steve saved the man from the 107th division who eventually became her husband (steve was never in the 107th, just to clarify) i believe her husbands name was daniel sousa (as revealed in the marvels agents of shield show) steve then finds out peggy is alive and talks to her. she, in short, tells him she's lived her life, and it was his turn to live his in the time hes in. the "my best girl" line was unnecessary and out of place; again, steve barely knew her. again, shit goes down, and steve finds out the winter soldier is bucky and immediately drops everything, and becomes dead set on saving him. not killing, not imprisoning, but saving him. no matter the cost. "he saw me, and he didnt even know me" "hes not the kind you save, hes the kind you stop. he won't recognise you" "he will." god, steve KNEW bucky would recognise him. regardless of the brainwashing, steve managed to break through the barrier hydra fought so hard to drill into buckys mind. nothing ever broke him out of that state exept for steve. "im not gonna fight you, youre my friend." "youre my mission" "then finish it. cos im with you till the end of the line." [[good fucking lord let me break out of my essay-esque semi professional format here and just say how fucking heartbreaking those lines are. oh my god. read them, over and over until it hits you.]] steve shows us again, that he is willing to not only die for bucky, but literally die by his hand. he would let bucky kill him. he'd dropped his shield. he didnt fight back. steve always, always, ALWAYS got up and fought back. always. exept that time. the time bucky could have killed him. that scene is the essence of "im with you till the end of the line" because then, it was true. it was true because steve was okay with dying at buckys mercy. theres a difference between sacrificing yourself for the greater good (steve going into the ice), willing to die for someone (steve risking his life multiple times in attempts to save bucky) and finally, being willing to let someone kill you, because you love and trust them so much (hellicarier scene). the difference between peggy and bucky's relationship to steve is that steve may be willing to die for either, but only willing to be killed by one. not to mention, bucky pulled steve from the river. he recognised him. steve broke through 70 years of brainwashing with such impact it literally drove bucky away from hydra out of his own free will.

in between ca:tws and ca:cw its confirmed (im p sure sam says it) that him and steve looked for bucky for two. years. even off screen, bucky was steves priority.

im going to squeeze in 2 points from from age of ultron here, for chronology's sake:

steves worst nightmare, as portayed in the movie, is LITERALLY going back to the 40s and being stuck there (with peggy too??lmfao) and also the quote "family, stability, the man who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. i think another one came out." objectively confirms that steve isn't the man he used to be, and doesnt want to return to the past. aou may have sucked, but that doesn't mean the character development should be thrown away.

ca:cw. hoo boy. steve went against 117 countries and half of his closest friends and colleagues because he believed bucky was innocent of the bombing of the un conference. god, steve quite literally, did everything to defend and protect bucky. though i shall acknowledge that steve did attend peggy's funeral, however, there was no real connotations there other than the fact he was mourning her death (understabdibly so). steve then proceeds to protect bucky for 2 hours 27 mins and 41 seconds to the point where they escape together to siberia after the airport fight. "i dont know if im worth all this steve" "what you did all those years... it wasnt you. you didnt have a choice." "i know. but i did it" again, absolutely heartbreaking quotes if you read it a couple of times and truly understand the meaning of them. steve somewhat indirectly tells bucky yes, yes he is worth all of this. otherwise, he wouldn't be doing it. a quote to support that would be "for the longest time, i always did what i thought was right." (disclaimer this is not a direct quote i deadass couldnt find it to save my life, i belive steve said it at some point during civil war or tws, but the point is, bucky is the only thing that could have shaken steves morals so intensely.) and finally, the most important part of cw, the fight at the end with tony. bucky and steve constantly protected each other. steve kept fighting because he was fighting for bucky. to keep him safe from tony and the world. he got up, time and time again. "i can do this all day." the fact that he said that to tony, some people consider them the closest of friends, proves again, a million times over, bucky is more important to steve than literally anything else, INCLUDING his shield. his mantle. he dropped it and left it like it was nothing, because his priority was bucky. as always.

theres not much to discuss for infinity war other than their hug whicg was honestly just adorable.

mmmmm endgame. i will not go into how much i hate that movie because it would be a rant quintuple the length of this one. in the support group, steve dead ass fucking says "you gotta move on. you gotta move on" and that sentiment was literally forgotten at the end. my main point for endgame is this. people tend to tell me, the reason steve abandoned bucky and went back to be with peggy is because he knew that he was finally safe. :/. if you had half a braincell youd know that's not true. the steve we know, never would have left bucky for good, ESPECIALLY after the "dont do anything stupid until i get back" exchange [[god i want to beat the shit out of the r*ssos]] mostly because, bucky had fucking no one in the time he was living in!!! no family, no friends and most heartbreakingly, no one he could trust. (yes sam was there but were just seeing their friendship develop now in tfatws, all that wasnt there in endgame) and secondly, what made steve think bucky was entirely safe??? half of the worlds population just suddenly reappeared, which as we see now, there were massive consequences for that. i simply believe steve is not that stupid. steve going back was disrespectful not only to his character, but to bucky AND peggy. most importantly, the steve we've been watching since 2011 would NEVER abandon bucky, no matter how safe he thought he was (he visited him frequently in wakanda, the safest place on the planet arguably ffs) especially for such a dumbass and quite frankly, nonsensical reason as going back to be with peggy, who clearly stated to him she moved on, and so should he (which he did. idk endgame writers prolly didnt watch the previous movies :/) its not even debatable. bucky is more important to steve than peggy. even in terms of screentime.

now allow some tweets to speak for me, this one being the absolute most important one:

ladies and gentlefolk, all of the stuff ive said can be summarised in that last line. "it would be contrary to who he is."

heres some more:

and now finally, id like to briefly mention steve and tfatws, so beware of spoilers (writing this as of ep 4 coming out; praying it doesn't age badly)

bucky mentions steve, unprompted, fucking constantly. he clearly isnt over steve leaving, and im hoping that gets acknowledged and talked out in the show.

in conclusion, tl:dr, steve shouldn't have returned to the past and stayed there, it is contrary to who he is, as shown to us through his trilogy and other appearances in the mcu. not to mention the timeline bullshit in endgame makes zero sense in the first place.

#long post #stucky #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #marvel #tfatws #bucky barnes #peggy carter #hwh's marvel thoughts #please dont bullshit me in the comments also i dont have the strength #imma hide this in the tags praying no 1 will b bothered to look but steve and bucky gay #everytime some1 calls their relationship brotherly it takes 10 years off my life nd makes me wanna impale myself ❤ #also no beta we die like men #my meta

[honeyapplepi]

bro, imagine it’s like minecraft manhunt except you can’t die and dream is your bodyguard. not really taht good of an idea but if it gets u started than that’s good. i’ll come up with more later

Y/N Never Dies!

warnings: swearing

a/n: I switched who the bodyguard was, but it’s still the manhunt. I hope you like it! I’m not too big of a fan of the ending, but i couldn’t think of any other way to end it.

Italics = Flashbacks

(ALL PLATONIC) Dream x gn!reader, Sapnap x gn!reader, Georgenotfound x gn!reader

masterlist

Creeping over the ravine’s edge you watched as Sapnap and George chased Dream. Readying your bow you grabbed a slowness arrow out of your bag and positioned it towards Sapnap. Letting the arrow go you watched as it hit sapnap in the back. Sapnap fell to the ground causing george to stop.

“Sapnap? What happened,” George asked. Dream stopped for a second looking to where the arrow came from and saw you. You winked at him before quickly drawing back another arrow and shooting it towards George.

“What! Where did that arrow come from?,” George said looking around. You hid behind a nearby tree and waited.

“There must be a skeleton somewhere in here,” Sapnap said. Dream took this as a chance and quickly ran over to the two and hit them both with his stone sword.

“Dream!,” Sapnap yelled being hit by Dream. Dream quickly managed to kil Sapnap and soon killed george too.

You looked over the edge and then swam down the waterfall meeting dream at the bottom. Grabbing your arrows you placed the back in your bag and looked towards the blonde standing in front of you.

“A hood and mask really?,” Dream said. You rolled your eyes and pulled down the hood and cloth mask that covered your mouth and nose.

“I’m trying to be stealthy. Look at you, you’re wearing a bright green sweatshirt, and you wonder why they find you so easily,” You told him. “Anyways I should go before they come back you wouldn’t want them to find out you’re a cheater,” You said jokingly.

Dream just rolled his eyes at your comment decided not to come up with a remark. You pulled your hood over and your mask up and then started to walk away. “Bye, Dreaaam,” you said playfully dragging out his name.

As you strolled away, you thought about how a month ago Dream appeared at your door.

You sat on the balcony of your tree house reading a book. You weren’t really paying attention to your surrounding so you didn’t notice Dream walking towards your home, but luckily your dogs did. After hearing your dogs bark, you looked up from your book and noticed a man in a green sweatshirt approaching who you quickly recognized as Dream.

“Well well well. What do we have here?,” You said almost playfully standing up and looking over your balcony at the blonde. Dream was almost regretting this as he noticed the sly look in your face.

“I need your help, Y/N,” Dream said which caused a small smile to appear on your face. You were fine with being annoying about his need for your help as you could tell it wasn’t anything too serious.

“You mean THE Dream need my help. I almost feel honored,” You said smirking playfully. Dream looked at you his eye practically twitching in annoyance.

“Can we just talk about this inside,” Dream said. You just laughed and let him up the staircase that led to your home. You entered your house before he did and went to your kitchen to make tea.

“So, what do you need?,” you asked your tone more serious than before. Dream sat at your table while you stood by your counter watching the kettle that was over the fire.

“There’s a manhunt coming up and I want you to help me win,” Dream said looking at you. You turned around to grab teacups from your cabinets.

“I’m not interested in betting my life to beat a dragon that’ll respawan in a couple years,” You said pouring the boiling water in the two cup and placing a tea bag in both of them.

“No no, all I want you to do is help me win by secretly finding ways to stop Sapnap and George so I get ahead,” Dream said taking the teacup from you as you handed it to him.

“Plus you can’t die, so you aren’t really betting your life,” Dream said trying his hardest to convince you of his plan.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I can die you just can’t beat me,” you said looking at him. It was true though you liked that people believe you just couldn’t die it wasn’t true. You just never died because you were smarter and sometimes stronger than your opponents.

You sat down across from Dream taking a minute the think. “What do I get out of it?,” You asked suddenly.

“Whatever you want,” Dream told you.

“Fine, but i want a stack of books. I need to enchant some things and i’m out of books,” You told him. Dream looked at you confused almost as if books wasn’t a reasonable thing to want.

“Books, really,” Dream said almost insultingly whether or not he meant it to be.

“I mean I could always asked for something harder to find. Like a stack of diamonds,” You said looking at him. Dream quickly drew back his statement before you changed your mind on what you wanted.

“Okay it’s settled i’ll see you in a month. I should go,” Dream said standing up to leave. He looked down at the teacup for a minute before speaking again.

“That tea taste familiar. Did you steal Wilbur’s teabags?,” Dream said recognizing the taste of Wilburs homemade teabags.

“Are you questioning my integrity?,” You said pretending to be offended.

“I’m not entirely sure you have any,” Dream joked.

“Says the cheater,” You joked back.

It didn’t take long for Dream to find his way to the stronghold with you keeping your distance behind Sapnap and George. You were starting to get closer to them. The end was definitely where Dream was most likely to die and if you wanted those books you had to help him win.

Wandering through the stronghold you looked around for Sapnap and George making sure they weren’t close to where Dream was. You started to walk towards an archway when you heard the sound of Sapnap speaking to George. You quickly stopped placing your back flat against the cold stone.

“Sapnap, did you hear that? I think Dream is around the corner,” George whispered to Sapnap though it was loud enough for you to hear.

“Fuck,” you muttered as quietly as possible. You needed to think quick they were right there you couldn’t just run. You heard them crouching towards the archway. You thought fast and grabbed chicken eggs from your bag and through them towards the archway hoping they would hatch.

“Chickens!,” “Where did Dream get eggs?,” you heard from the two boys.

You quickly ran up the stairs trying to find a place to hide. You needed to think when it came to the end it was gonna be hard to not get them to see you. You had a couple invisibility potions but they would still see your bow and bag of arrows so it wouldn’t really help.

You didn’t know what to do. You were going to risk it. Worse case scenario they see you and find out Dream is a cheater and you don’t get your books. If that happens you can always steal some from Technoblade he always has a bunch.

Once you agreed with yourself on your plan you went to find the portal. By the time you go there it was already made and ready to enter. You were hopeful everyone had gotten through and wouldn’t see you when you enter.

After you went through the portal you looked around as you stood on the end stone platform. You spotted Dream running and attacking Sapnap and George. Taking this as your chance to find a place to hide you threw a ender pearl towards one of the obsidian towers.

Once you were teleported you looked over and made sure Sapnap and George were still distracted. You then quickly grabbed your diamond pickaxe and started digging through the tower. Once you were inside you built yourself up and then stopped once you reached a reasonable height. You dig through the obsidian in front of you so you could see them and hoped they wouldn’t notice you.

You knew if you did too much it would become obvious you were there so you mostly watched and sent a couple arrows near them every once in a while hoping they wouldn’t notice. Eventually Dream managed to win and killed the dragon without being killed.

You quickly made your way out of the tower contemplating whether or not to bug Dream about getting you the books. You decided against it and and started to get a pearl out of your bag when you heard something.

“Wait, who is that?,” you heard a british accent say. At that you froze tempted to just teleport and never appear again, but just turned around and pulled off your hood and mask.

“Sorry, Dream. I still get my books right?,” you asked looking towards Dream who had a look on his face that could only be described with the sentence “Oh my god, and they said i wasn’t stealthy”. Dream decided to accept his failure and swallow his pride, and explain to the two boys what was going on.

“Wait, so you cheated?,” Sapnap said still in disbelief that Dream would do all that just to win.

“Yep, he came to my home all desperate practically begging me to help. I felt so bad I had to do it,” you joked over exaggerating what had really happen just to annoy Dream.

“I’ll kill you” Dream threatened though you knew he wouldn’t do it.

“Remember, Dream. Y/N never dies!,” You said referring to yourself in third person.

“Isn’t it “Technoblade never dies”?,” George asked looking towards you.

“He stole that from me. I taught him everything he knows,” you said smugly only Dream knowing your joking. “....but don’t tell him i said that!,” you said your face dropping slightly.

#sapnap #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dream #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #technoblade #wilbur soot

[obeiii-mee]

Heyo, this is my first time asking (im kinda new to tumblr, so please dont judge) if you would'nt mind, could you do some headcannons (or oneshots, it dosen't matter) with all the demon bros and a MC who is crippled/paralized in their legs, and has to use a wheelchair to get around? Thank you!!

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This is the first time I’ve written about a crippled MC, so I hope I didn’t fuck this up or anything. I found out that being paralysed in both legs is a disability called Paraplegia so that’s how I titled this post. And y’all are too sweet, you are more than welcome anon! I hope I can portray this properly because I am not crippled myself so I’ve opted to do some research before writing this! I hope you like it! Also, I feel inclined to add that none of the brothers would treat you too differently if you happen to have a disability because you’re their human nonetheless :)

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The Brothers with an MC that has Paraplegia and needs a wheelchair to get around:

Lucifer:

-Lucifer was in charge of choosing the final human, exchange student for the program so it’s guaranteed he already knew about your predicament before you even arrived

-Him and Diavolo probably had many meetings concerning your disability before the program could commence, considering that being unable to walk would double the chances of you getting killed since you are obviously more vulnerable

-Not to mention all the treatment you would require

-Lucifer is not well versed in human illnesses and disorders, but he makes sure that he is educated enough on the matter before you get brought down there

-It would not be easy, but he is determined to help you survive your year in DevilDom for the prince’s sake

-First problem of the day was, of course, your wheelchair

-Due to lack of time, Lucifer was unable to instal ramps around the House of Lamentation which meant that for the first couple of weeks, someone would’ve had to help you move around certain parts of the house

-He gave that highly prestigious job to himself because he didn’t trust his brothers and thought they would accidentally drop you and your wheelchair down the stairs

-He talks a lot to you, even at the beginning, because he needs to establish your needs and what he should do to make sure you don’t die for the following year

-You would have to tell him about physical therapy and how most commonly it uses heat, massage and exercise to stimulate your nerves and muscles, making it a great treatment for people with leg paralysis

-Once you two enter a more intimate and personal relationship, it’s more than likely he’ll help you perform those things himself (instead of kidnapping a human doctor from somewhere)

-Lucifer knows you have no problem getting around with your wheelchair by yourself but there are times where he’ll insist to push you along in order to give you a quick break

-I can totally imagine you two strolling around DevilDom and having cosy chats about RAD and your adjustments to DevilDom

-He has a softer side to him that he’s afraid to show most of the time, but he feels so at ease when you’re around, it’s hard for him to hold that part of him hidden from you

-Of course, your safety still remains his primary concern and he acts more like your guardian than Mammon does, even if he was originally supposed to look out for you

-He will accompany you almost anywhere. And if he can’t, he’ll have one or more of his brothers do it. And even then he’s probably lurking nearby, just in case

-He would always be willing to listen about your condition, if you wished to tell him whether you were born with the defect or why you ended up crippled later in life. Either way, he’s all ears

-If you would rather not speak about it, he wouldn’t pry and respect your decision because he knows it’s not his place to pressure you

-Because of your paralysis, it’s quite obvious to demons that you are even weaker (physically speaking) than most humans and that usually puts a target on your back

-Howver, never fear, because Lucifer is pretty quick to put lower rank demons in their place with just a mere stare

-Oop one of them passed out from the fear, haha

-In conclusion, he’s the most responsible when it comes your comfort and safety during your stay

-He makes sure you are always left in good hands and and provides most of the requirements you need

-Y’all should see how his wings puff up when he senses a threat approaching you, he looks like a peacock ready to go on attack lol

Mammon:

-The second born is unsurprisingly a bit of a jerk at first

-He stays really grumpy the whole day of your arrival because he’s stuck babysitting you stupid human

-“Lucifer c’mon, what’s all this workload for? The human can’t even walk by themselves, why do I have to help them out?”

-Wtf Mammon you can’t say shit like that

-Anyways, the following very few days, the only thing he’s thinking about is how much money he could sell your wheelchair for

-He’s the literal incarnation of greed, what else did you expect from him?

-After a while, he starts feeling a bit guilty every time he thinks about it though

-Mammon is gonna take this secret to the grave (laughs in immortal) but he actually really likes pushing you around

-Maybe it’s because it’s a clear indication to everyone around him that you are HIS human, under HIS protection and therefore you trust HIM the most since he was your FIRST MAN

-He will insist on helping you get out of that thing when you need to go to bed and stuff every night and he will get pouty real fast if you let any of his other brothers do it

-You wake up to him trying to roll around in your wheelchair one night at like 3am

-At some point, he stole a wheelchair from the human realm to match with his human. You can guess the consequences of his actions

-I can imagine you having to face a staircase or something at school and Mammon being like:

-“Fuck it, imma carry this fragile human instead; wheelchair and all!”

-Like you were a sack of potatoes or something smh

-Cue his brothers watching him from a distance as he heaves you and basically weight-lifts you up the stairs

-Ok but every now and again, he gets so sad thinking about you not being able to walk, like he starts crying kinda sad

-While you stand there like 😐 “Why are you crying?”

-He’s so quick to help if he senses you’re in danger too

-It’s canon that Mammon is crazy fast if he wants to be so if he has even the slightest impression that your life is threatened, his feet are already moving

-He will charge at your immediate threat at around 120 miles per hour-do not try him when he’s mad

-“The Great Mammon saved the day! C’mon MC, let’s go buy some ice cream. My treat! Ya better be grateful!”

-He says while the demon that tried to eat you lies on the floor with about a dozen broken bones

-Mammon is the second most powerful demon out of all of his brothers, even if he doesn’t resort to violence often

Levi:

-He didn’t really know how to react when you first teleported to DevilDom

-I mean, from the very beginning he considered you to be a human normie but at the same time, he felt bad you were stuck with his brothers for the rest of the year

-I think he would understand you would have an even harder time integrating yourself in their house because of your disability and he knows his siblings are really fucking annoying, always pushing you around and whatnot

-So, he kinda lets you hide in his room quite often

-You guys chill out in there all the time, much to the dismay of the other brothers who also want to spend time with you

-At some point, Levi definitely begged asked Lucifer to let you start online classes with him

-“But wouldn’t it be easier for MC to do online school from home rather than go to R.A.D since there aren’t any ramps or anything around there???”

-“The answer is no Leviathan.”

-“Ugh fine! What a fucking boomer-“

-For some reason, he gets so flustered whenever you ask him to push you around

-He blushes right to the tips of his ears and then he starts sputtering some nonsense that you can’t make out at all

-But he’s more than happy to do it, especially if you guys are going to a convention or if he’s dragging you out to buy new merch

-You two would get along in the sense that Levi realises the struggles you faced all your life were tough to overcome and he believes you are just like him

-Usually left out by other people, ignored even

-He knows you always listen to him ramble on about whatever he is currently obsessed with and how much you check up on him to make sure he never isolated himself

-He wants to do that for you too! Talk to him about your hobbies, please I’m begging you-he feels so bad whenever he’s doing all the talking

-If you ask him to help you with anything (getting something, helping you into bed—that sort of thing), he legally and physically can’t say ‘no’

-And he would get envious enough to stop talking to you for a day or two if you let his brothers do it instead (the second and third born are indeed similar lmao)

-S T A Y I N H I S R O O M, W H E R E Y O U C A N B E P R O T E C T E D !

-He will feel so much more at ease if you’re in his room because to him, that’s his haven

-If you’re in there with him, that means you’re not getting involved in his siblings’ endless and dangerous shenanigans

-Whenever you’re at school, he can’t help but worry about your well-being

-Because you’re human! You’re gonna get killed!! Do you know how much your organs sell on the black market in DevilDom??? 100x more than in the human realm, that’s for sure

-Would they have a black market or would it be a regular market lol

-For some reason, he also likes staying in your wheelchair when you’re not using it

-I think he just takes comfort in knowing it’s something that belongs to you and smells like you and-

-OK Levi, sit back down

-He wouldn’t treat you any differently if you had a disability tbh, but he’d be more concerned because you can’t even run away or anything

-So he’s so fuckin’ relieved when you guys are just vibing in his room

-He could die happy knowing he kept his best friend/ partner safe

Satan:

-Satan would be even more prepared for your arrival than Lucifer would, in a sense

-Out of all of his brothers, he’s most likely to understand and recognise paraplegia (either from studying human illnesses/birth defects/disabilities or from encountering humans with said disability)

-He’s a smart boy, alright?

-Always seems to be the first to notice if you need help or if someone’s bothering you

-Though in the very beginning, he was pretty tempted to just let you get killed to see how angry Lucifer could get

-Seeing dear Luci’s misery brings him great joy 🥰🥰🥰

-Once you two manage to build a very honest and strong relationship, he feels more and more inclined to keep you out of harm’s way

-Pls, he would feel so honoured if you let him push you around (it’s like you asked him to h*ld h*nds or something)

-If you require treatment of any kind, he would be so happy to help

-But in a subtle way...?

-Satan makes it seem so smooth too like he doesn’t mind lending a helping hand when in reality he’s all giddy inside

-*Kinda wants to rub it in his brothers’ faces but at the same no, because he’s definitely the bigger person here

-He wants to know how your wheelchair works

-It’s got all of these neat mechanisms and he wants to learn how they’re constructed because he never had the chance to inspect one before

-He’s such a sweetheart about asking you as well and never pries about your disability unless you start elaborating yourself

-Most of the time, he acts all charming and very gentleman-like

-So people have a hard time spotting and acknowledging the building rage inside of him every time he sees you are threatened by some moronic low rank demon

-Satan’s usually chill when it comes to injuries, unless he can see you’re in horrible pain

-There’s nothing a few spells can’t accomplish

-But when others purposefully try harming you?

-It’s like he loses all the self control he’s been trying to perfect over the centuries and he can’t help himself from at least breaking someone’s rib cage

-Satan’s a weird one because he’s protective of you even though he’s more on the relaxed side when compared to his siblings

-He very much acknowledges that you made it this far in life with your predicament so he doesn’t feel the need to baby you or anything

-You’re strong and he knows this

-It’s one of the many things he clearly loves about you

-That one time you rolled over Mammon’s foot with your wheelchair on purpose, he was wheezing

Asmo:

-Even now, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be stuck inside a wheelchair for the rest of his eternal life

-I mean, he’d obviously still be absolutely fabulous, have you seen him? He’s gonna be gorgeous either way

-But after the two of you meet, he definitely starts thinking about how he takes his feet for granted all the time

-It would be so difficult to complete his daily tasks without the ability to walk or run around

-That’s why he gets sad every time he remembers that’s your reality and on days like that, you’ve noticed he gives you a helluva lot more attention than usual

-He knows you don’t need pity or anything so he’s just making sure his human has all the support they can get

-Paraplegia or not, shopping trips are still a go-go

-He loves buying you clothes! And he loves helping you try them on! Asmo takes it very seriously

-Might have a go at the employees if they’re being rude to you

-You don’t even ask him to, but he subconsciously starts pushing you around himself whenever the two of you are out together

-“MC! Look at that new shop that’s just opened! Isn’t it adorable? We have to check it out!”

-He can’t help it! There’s so many places he wants to visit, he sort of just drags you with him wherever he goes

-Even at home, he always pops out of nowhere to coax you into coming to his room

-Y’all have so many skin routines to do each day

-Like he’s in your room most nights to greet you goodnight and tuck you in, with the rest of his brothers it gets so awkward at times

-Asmo just wants to see you smile, ok? He thinks you have a beautiful smile and laugh and he wants to remind you that you’re marvellous, disability or not

-And if anyone does anything to put an end to your self confidence, he will swiftly put an end to their life

-Please, he’s a pro at ruining lives, he’s been doing it for centuries

-Asmo has such a huge influence over the people in DevilDom, he just needs to make this one post on Devilgram to end said demon’s whole career

-I mean, who is he compared to him, Hmm? So don’t worry MC, scum like that don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you :)

-That one time Mammon tried lifting you up the stairs and Asmo started shrieking, like put them down! Don’t manhandle them like that, poor human :(

Beel:

-I know I sound repetitive, but he would be an overall sweetheart to you no matter the circumstances

-If Mammon is not by your side, then Beel definitely is

-His big, scary aura and figure usually scares off any threat in a 10 mile radius

-Most demons don’t fancy being eaten by the Avatar of Gluttony, ya know?

-Idk why but I feel like he’d be the type to ask for oral consent every time he wanted to push you around

-He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable :(

-Surprisingly also the type to lift you and your wheelchair whenever an obstacle gets in your way

-You basically weigh the same amount as a paper plate compared to him, so he has no problem doing so

-He doesn’t really understand your condition as well as Satan may do, but he’s trying his best

-You mean so much to him and he feels it’s only fair he learns more about your disability as a thank you for what you’ve done for him

-He has a rough time keeping up with you when it comes to stuff like physical therapy because he’s very unfamiliar with it but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna help

-Of course, Beel believes that this is the second best way to show you how much he cares for you besides the obvious ‘I love you’

-Giving you a hand whenever you need his support the most

-That’s his way of saying “I’m not going to let you down. I want you to trust me, the same way I trust you.”

-And knowing him, he will try to do everything in his power to keep you safe and sound

-After a while, you’re bound to notice he’s the first one to pull you out of his brothers’ pranks before you have a chance to get hurt

-Beel is always the one handing you stuff from high places you can’t reach, without teasing you for it like Mammon might do

-Always the first one to remind you to get plenty of rest and to eat enough

-He wants to protect you and his brothers because he knows he failed to do so with Lilith so yeah, he’s a bit overprotective at times

-He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he gets so anxious knowing you’re by yourself

-After a few months of getting accommodated with him, your disability is no longer brought up in the conversation

-Because he doesn’t care that you are crippled and forced to use a wheelchair

-You are part of his family and he loves you no matter what

Belphie:

-He didn’t really care, even when you first met and his hatred for humans was at its very peak

-It didn’t matter that you had a disability

-All that mattered to him at the time was killing you to satisfy that deeply rooted need of vengeance inside of him

-Though he was sort of surprised his brothers didn’t get to you first

-In general, he’s pretty chill about you being crippled in both legs

-It takes too much effort to worry about your well-being 24/7 after all

-Surprisingly, he does keep an eye out for you if his siblings aren’t nearby

-It’s his redemption arc people, he’s trying to be nicer

-But he has such an irritating way of showing his affection for you

-Do not let him push you around

-He’s either going to a) fall asleep after 30 seconds and slump over you in the middle of RAD’s halls

-Or b) be annoying and fling your wheelchair in every direction possible just to piss you off

-He likes messing with you because you give him the best reactions and he thrives on that

-You’ve almost fallen off your wheelchair multiple times because of this asshole

-Not that he’d actually let you fall, he just wants to see how easily he can get you to yell at him

-Speaking of said wheelchair, like Mammon and Levi, he also loves using it when you’re not

-You’ve woken up to him curled up and asleep in that thing quiet often and he’s gotten in trouble over it every time with Lucifer

-But he doesn’t care

-And at this point, I don’t think even he knows whether he’s doing it to get a reaction out of you or because he somehow found a way to make himself comfortable there

-He would low key use you as a mode of transportation every time you go to RAD

-Just clings the damn wheelchair and almost topples both of you over

-“Belphie, there’s nothing stopping you from walking 😐”

-“Shh, just bring me to class and let me nap until then.”

-He doesn’t mention your legs but he still lays his head on your lap often

-Might make you hold him like a bride every time you stroll around the house

-It’s done out of love, I promise 😌😌

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Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #om #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #paraplegia #⭐️ requests #🕯 general #☂️ demon brothers

[burnedbyshoto]

disconnected

— Kirishima answers a phone call that wasn’t intended for him, and of course he can’t help but be interested in the beautiful voice and soul that angrily began to rant about their day. —

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pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, lil angst (lol sorry), cursing

word count: 7,786

a/n: this was a stupid thought that slammed into my mind, and here it is!!!! now I have a calc midterm tomorrow that I did not look at because why think about double derivatives and integrals when I can think about kirishima????

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It was eleven at night when Kirishima strolled out of his bathroom, ready to go to bed. After a rather long day, he was looking forward to sleeping and not having to wake up at the crack of dawn. Tomorrow for the very first day in a very long time, he wouldn’t have to work at the local coffee shop he was hired at. It was a job he had acquired with his good friends on the promise of it being a manageable job on top of his college work, and of course, the pretty girls who would go in.

From what Kirishima had gathered from the four months working there was that there were a lot of pretty girls who entered the coffee shop — most of which were focused on the angry ash-blond friend of his — and that it was so unnecessarily stressful. 

Some days he was up at four in the morning to open at six for the morning regulars, then he’d go to his afternoon classes, only to return for a two-hour shift in the middle of rush hour, and would leave while trying to keep the peace between a certain ash-blond and two new hires. To say the least, it was hell on Earth at times. 

Regardless, he didn’t have to open tomorrow morning, so he was content! On top of not having classes tomorrow, Kirishima was excited to sleep in.

Falling on his bed with a massive sigh, Kirishima snuggled his face into his pillow, rejoicing in the way that the laundry detergent still clung to the fabric and relaxed.

Sleep sounded so—

RIIING.

RIIING.

Kirishima’s eyes slammed open, his head snapping to see his illuminating phone on his nightstand. He had no idea who the hell was calling this late. There was no way it was Bakugou; he was asleep already at this point. Sero had broken his phone two days ago during a failed stunt and wouldn’t be able to get a new phone until the weekend. Kaminari only called him when there was a bug in his apartment, but he was currently closing… maybe it was Mina? Kirishima shook his head, no, he hadn’t spoken to Mina in ages.

Grabbing the phone, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered.

“Hello—?”

“Oh my god, I am fucking raging! You can’t believe what kind of fuckery I just went through tonight!” a voice shouted into the receiver, and Kirishima flinched a bit at the loud and angry voice. “So you know how I wasn’t supposed to work today, right? Because my coworker had sex with her ex-boyfriend like an idiot, and I owed her for covering my shift three months ago, but anyways irrelevant. I’m taking the order of this one group of adults. That’s right, A-D-U-L-T-S, adults! They are completely staring at my tits the entire time, and not my face. At first, I thought maybe you know, I had spilled something on my tits earlier, no. No! NOTHING! So I call them out on it, and they say something along the lines of ‘you could be a camgirl with that body, but like not in a sex sort of way’ I’m sorry, WHAT?! Like yes, continue sexually harassing your server who is a college student and therefore has no will to live, so will gladly beat your Gucci belt wearing ass into a bloody pulp! What they gonna do? Sue me? I have one dollar to my name, fucking take it, I don’t care, I’ll find another dollar in the sewer after I beat their asses up!

“But you know, I’m saying all this in my head because I’m broke and can’t afford to be fired from this place because the tips are hella good here. But they continue saying dumb shit, and then the obvious ringleader — I know he was the ring leader because his beard looks like it was the first picture printed on a new ink cartridge and his manspread was ten times wider than all of theirs — have the fucking audacity to slip his number while only tipping TEN DOLLARS ON A TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR TAB!!!!” Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, his jaw on his mattress, breathing having stopped while your voice wheezes from your lack of air. He makes a croaking noise, wanting to speak up and apologize for what had happened and for not being the person you thought it was, but it seemed that you weren’t over. “AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING KAREN!!! ‘I didn’t like the way you looked at me so I won’t be tipping you tonight!’ yeah, well maybe if you didn’t order enough FOOD TO FEED AN ARMY AND KEPT SENDING IT BACK I WOULDN’T BE LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!!!”

There was a pause, and Kirishima, while feeling entirely sorry for you, finally spoke, “Fuck, that sounds... horrible.”

“Damn right, it was horri— wait, who the fuck is this?” your voice squeaked, and Kirishima almost started to laugh at the difference in the tone your voice took. Once so loud, angry, and entirely ‘fuck the world,’ had changed into a meek and embarrassed voice.

“Um, this is Kirishima. Kirishima Eijiriou?”

“This isn’t Hagakure?” you moaned into the phone. “03-9082-2395? That isn’t this number?”

“2-2-9-5,” Kirishima repeated his own number back, a small smile overcame his features knowing that you had accidentally misdialed a number.

“Fuck my fat fingers,” you cursed, and Kirishima chuckled lightly at the mutterings that were poorly picked up. “Well, um, I am so sorry for calling you and dumping that unnecessary bullshit on you—”

“No, no,” Kirishima interrupted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. “It’s totally okay! You seem less stressed out now too, and it really isn’t a big deal!”

“You are very kind, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, and Kirishima can’t help but imagine a figure curled up on a couch.

“Thank you!” he beamed, a hand threading through his hair, “um, but what happened with the Karen? And why were you typing in your friend’s phone number?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask after a fit of bubbling laughter; it seemed that you were not at all convinced.

“I work at a coffee shop for one, so I totally understand the Karen situations! Secondly, all my contacts are on my phone, I don’t have a single one of them memorized!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I do not have this number memorized! Hagakure is my roommate, and she has a new number that she left posted on our fridge and because Mr. Sprinkles left in the middle of my rant, I called her to finish it!” you explain in what Kirishima could only consider being childlike glee. “And a coffee shop? Oof, Kirishima, you might have it just as bad as I do then.”

“Ever had a boiling cup of coffee thrown back at your face?”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wish I was joking!”

“The nastiest thing I’ve ever been put through is a highschool couple breaking up in the middle of the restaurant, and a bowl of cold soup and milkshake were thrown at me! And I had to work for another five hours!”

“That… that beat mine by a long shot…”

“Okay, but like, it was cold. If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead!”

As time passed Kirishima soon found himself sitting up on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a lamp on so that he wasn’t in the dark while he talked to you. Somehow conversation flowed so perfectly between the two of you, so smoothly, so naturally. You had extremely compelling energy and a pretty bright one at that as well. Your stories were exceedingly extravagant, most derailing into hundreds of side stories before making its way back to the main point, but he didn’t mind. Though there was no proof, he imagined that your arms were swinging around while you talked, a bright smile on your face, and lights shining in your eyes.

“So anyway, I had to beg my professor to let me remake this exam because, for some reason, my brain would not switch back to Japanese. I almost cried because I was only speaking in English, and I think because I am an amazing person, my professor let me do that!” you laughed after explaining an issue with being fluent in a third language. 

“My English skills deteriorated after leaving high school, I’m rather jealous you can speak three languages,” Kirishima admitted, his head falling back onto the cold wall. “My Japanese professors probably think my Japanese sucks too.”

“Just because I am amazing and can speak three languages doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it,” you laugh, obviously trying to make him feel better about himself.

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re painting yourself as a pretty perfect person,” Kirishima sighed. “Or you have an enormous ego…”

A loud scoff came from your end of the phone, and Kirishima waited for your verbal retaliation but was met with a moment of silence.

“Oh! Welcome home!” you called out, and Kirishima quickly put together that your roommate Hagakure was home. “Yeah, no, I’m talking to someone right now! ...who? Oh, um, a friend! ...no, I tried to call you when I got home but misdialed your number and got him instead! NO! You’re not going to get a pic of him! Wait, it’s what time?!”

Kirishima’s eyes fell over to his alarm clock and saw in the dim red light that it was 04:57. 

His jaw dropped.

“Well, um, Kirishima, it seems that our call is going to end,” you whisper into the phone, and Kirishima lets out a breathless chuckle, sudden sleepiness creeping into him. “It was pretty fun chatting with you stranger, thanks for putting up with that ranting in the beginning! Most normal people wouldn’t have picked up or let me rant like that!”

“It’s no problem,” Kirishima smiled softly, his fingers stretching out to turn off the light. He licked his lips, five hours on a phone call with an absolute stranger, and he didn’t have your name, and better yet, a part of him wanted to ask if it was okay to be friends. You were magnetic to him, and he wanted to know more about you, even if this was this weird modern and accidental penpal thing. “I didn’t have anything to do today, and you were fun talking to!”

“Aww, thank you!”

Silence.

Ask, he thought, his teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. Ask!

“Um, I know this is weird and all, but do you think I can keep your number?” you ask, your voice almost timid and meek.

Kirishima’s heart rate spikes at those words, he very much wanted that, but his mouth had a mind of its own it seemed. “Why?”

“Wha— well, I just had a lot of fun talking with you! It was fun, and I don’t know, you seem like a pretty chill guy!”

His fingers gripped his phone, a warmth spreading through him when he relaxed under his sheets. “On one condition.”

“Oof, if you’re going to ask to decide between Crimson Riot or All Might you’re going to be—”

“No, no,” Kirishima lets out a snort, his shoulders rolling while he imagines the curious look coming over your face. “I would like to know your name?”

“My name? Why would you want— HOLY SHIT! I never gave you—” there was a loud noise on your end of the call, and Kirishima heard you apologize profusely before returning in a hushed whisper. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t give you my name?!”

“No,” he laughed loudly, one that was pushed from his belly, spreading warmth through his body. “You never did, but I did learn every name of every person you’ve ever talked with!”

“God,” you groan, a small whine emitted from you. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry! Y/l/n y/n at your service!”

Y/l/n y/n, that’s a pretty name, he thought while imagining just what you could look like. 

“Well, goodnight y/l/n, I’ll save your number, and we’ll see if you still would like to be friends when you wake up?”

There was a small noise of agreement, “I’m like a drug, Kirishima, you’ll be back for more.”

“Okay, okay, goodnight…”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kirishima listened to the line ending, and he pulled his phone away from his ear and no sooner did he do that, a text came in at what he believed to be your number:

don’t let the bed bugs bite! 🕷😱‼️

He snorted and replied back before eventually letting sleep consume him.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You’ll never believe what just happened!” you squealed into the phone, and Kirishima laughed while wiping his sweaty face with a white towel. You had called thirty minutes earlier than usual and had caught him leaving the gym.

It had been a bit over two months since your misdial, and things with you had been going pretty well for strangers. The two of you didn’t talk every day, most weeks going by with just a single call, but they were always delightful talks. You worked most nights, and he most mornings, the two of you discovered. So most calls took place the night he didn’t have to work the following morning. 

“You got a customer who complained that there was too much salt in their meal that had no salt in it?” he asked, pulling a random story of something that had happened at his own coffee shop today. You let out an amused snort, a clear indicator that he was wrong, but found his guess to be amusing at the very least.

“No, but oddly enough, someone did ask for an insane amount of salt on their food and hated it!” you sang, clearly happy with how you found their distress to be funny.

“Close enough!” Kirishima laughed, but he was straight out of guesses, so he stopped. “So, what happened?”

“I tried coffee for the first time ever today!” you squealed loudly, and Kirishima cheered happily.

Through these two months, there were some hard facts that Kirishima had learned about you. One, you were living in the same city as him. Two, you worked at a semi-classy restaurant. Three, you had two roommates named Hagakure and Jirou. Four, you were twenty, just like him. And five, you were a child who only drank hot chocolate and tea because you were afraid of coffee.

~

“Caffeine is a drug you know,” you had snarkily teased him one night when he said he was going to make a cup of coffee. “Nice to know I’m friends with an addict!”

“If drugs were as amazing as coffee, I’d be an addict!”

“You know…” your voice whispered, your voice suddenly taking a guilty approach. “I’ve never actually tried coffee…”

“WHAT?!”

~

“Wow, look at you, becoming an old woman in front of my own eyes!” Kirishima chuckled, starting his walk back home. 

His fingers pushed the headphones to be more secure over his ears, hopeful that there it wouldn’t pick up too heavily on the wind of the outside world. 

“To be honest, it wasn’t that good, your taste buds are just tarnished from drinking that bitter crap all day!” you huff and he half imagined you turning your nose up.

“Okay, okay,” Kirishima laughed, a warmth flooding in his chest at the sounds of your muffled laughter. A visible indicator that you were also amused at this. “I hated coffee until I started working at a coffee shop, and that was because I needed to know my shit.”

“Wow, you only got that job while not being a coffee addict?” you tease. “Seems like a fake barista to me.”

“It’s pretty hard to believe, I know,” Kirishima stated his tone one of fake melancholy. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, and honestly, I am a shit barista.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” you exclaim, and it seems like you’re ready to fight him. “I bet you put all those fancy TikTok baristas to shame!”

“TikTok?” he laughed, his pace speeding up just a bit so he would get home faster. “Wow, I am honored you think that!”

The light conversation continued, nothing too deep or too intense, just chatter about today's shifts and classes. Eventually, Kirishima made it back into his apartment complex, and stumbled into his room, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Can I ask something?” you ask suddenly, and Kirishima lets out a small hum.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“What do you look like?” you asked softly as if you were curled up in bed, seconds from letting sleep consume you. “I haven’t come up with a mental image that I like, and well, I want some hints.”

“I can just send you a picture of me,” Kirishima smiles, his eyes closing. “It would be much easier than me trying to explain to you what I look like.”

“No!” you disagree, and there's a long sigh from your end of the phone. “I’m not ready for that kind of information yet, Kiri. I just… I can’t accept a pic of you without sending one back, and I’m not mentally ready for that yet…”

“Don’t tell me the big fat Gucci bougie you is shy?!” Kirishima exclaimed, humor drowning his words as he referenced you to something you had called yourself one drunken night weeks ago.

“Not shy!” you bemoan, your voice muffling out at the end of it. “I’m more scared you’ll find me ugly and ghost me…”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirishima interjected, his voice stable and confident.

“Which part?”

“Both parts.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know what I look like…”

“...call it… Kirishima’s intuition,” Kirishima slowly stated, his eyebrows furrowing. “I find your voice and your personality to be attractive on their own, so I would never ghost you. And of course, appearance isn’t anything; plus, there’s no way you’re not gorgeous.”

He says these words with honest truth, and a part of him fears he overstepped and made you wildly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that is heard from your end of the line. But finally, as Kirishima is ready to apologize to you, a soft exhale is heard.

“You’re a dork,” you whisper, and a soft grin spreads on his own face. “Anyways, I’ll ask questions, you answer them first, and then I’ll do the same.”

“Sounds good!”

“Hair color?”

“Black, but I dye it red.”

“Mm, edgy teenager, I like it, and also knew that because you complained about your stained sheets! Eye color?”

“Red.”

“Oh, am I sensing a theme? How tall are you?”

“I’m… a bit over six feet?”

The list went on, most questions becoming more of a joke than anything else, but he was glad that you were asking these things because now he had an insight on how you looked too. You had told him your eye color, your hair color, how tall you were, and a whole bunch of trivial things he would have never thought to ask about to begin with.

“Okay, last question!” you cheered, happy to have finally included Kirishima into your inside joke that revolved around your eyebrows. “Do you have any distinguishing features?”

“Well, I don’t actually...” Kirishima admitted, his fingers brushing against the scar on his eye, and then it hit him. That was one! “Oh, wait—” CRASH. A loud crashing noise emitted from your side of the call.

“Shit, hold on!” you curse and Kirishima can only remain silent while he hears you yelling in the background, it was too far away for him to quite understand, but it was enough to know that it didn’t sound okay. 

Kirishima sat on his side of the call, the phone pressed to his ear while he tried to strip his gross and sweaty shirt from his body. His teeth bit into his lip, his canine pressing into the permanent indent of his lip, an indicator of how anxious he used to be. 

“Fuck, Kiri?” your voice suddenly snapped back onto the call, your tone frantic and quick.

“Everything okay?”

“No, Hagakure showed up drunker than… a drunken drunk, I don’t know expressions, ANYWAYS I know tonight is our unofficial official call night, but anyway I can get a rain check?”

There was guilt that swallowed your voice, a pang of guilt that made Kirishima warm a bit because it showed that you valued these calls, just like him. 

“Of course, I don’t have class or work Friday morning this time around, so Thursday night?”

“That works perfectly,” you sigh, gratitude. “I owe you, text you later if you don’t fall asleep! Goodnight, sweet dreams, love ya!”

Kirishima couldn’t repeat the whole statement before you hastily hung up, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he showered. The shower didn’t take too long, and by the time he emerged from the shower, towel around his neck and his waist, he had a text message. 

sero - hey bro!!! i can’t pick up my morning shift tomorrow i know you have tonight to speak w y/n but todoroki and bakugou can’t cover it!

Kirishima sighed, he definitely didn’t have anything tomorrow anyways, he could manage with going in for an extra shift to help a friend.

kirishima - yeah sure what time?

sero - youre a life saver T-T im covering 8 am - 3 pm!!!

Kirishima sent a simple affirmative emoji before finishing up his nightly routine. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Kirishima looked at his apron while he was assembling himself in the backroom. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries was almost pungent in the back, and he was eager to get out of there. As per employee regulations, he was to wear a black apron, a name tag, and something to hold his hair because it was a bit too long, for that, he wore a white bandana around his forehead.

“Wait, where’s my name tag?” Kirishima called out, his eyebrows furrowing when he turned out to Kaminari, who was currently in the back with him.

The blond froze and scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “About that…”

So Kirishima was in the front of the store with a shiny silver name tag that read Hanta Sero. Because Kaminari was the best barista they had on hand currently, he was busy teaching Midoriya — their newest hire — around the bar. For now, Todoroki was nowhere to be found, and Kirishima was handling the cash register. 

Today was a slow morning, most people had their day off today, so morning coffee rush wasn’t in existence. Sure, there were a few outliers, but it was never chaotic. 

The gentle bell of the front door rang, and Kirishima automatically called out.

“Welcome!”

You had walked into the store, your eyebrows furrowed while you prayed that this was the coffee shop your roommates had been raving about. You’d never been here before, but it was the closest coffee shop available that wasn’t something generic and basic like Starbucks. You looked up from your phone at the voice, a thank you automatically being repeated while you neared the register.

You froze when you saw the red hair and the red eyes of the handsome man at the register. A careless thought entered your mind, Kirishima said he had red hair and red eyes… but he said he didn’t work today… 

A kind smile sat on his face, his eyes taking you in, waiting for you to approach him. 

This couldn’t be him, right?

The last time you had assumed a redhead working in a coffee shop was Kirishima, it had ended embarrassingly. 

“Um, hi,” you drawled out, your eyes reading the board to figure out your own order. 

Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were exactly what you had described to him, but he wouldn’t ask until he was sure. He would ask you for your name after collecting your order for either tea or hot chocolate, and if it was you, he’d reveal that he was Kirishima. But he didn’t want to be wrong; he didn’t want to pin any other person as you, after all.

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, your hand rubbing the back of your head. You were transfixed on the caramel macchiato that was spelled in the prettiest font, though, plus Hagakure promised all their coffee was good. 

“Oh, well, welcome! If you need any recommendations or have anything else to order, I can put those through while you look?”

His smile was kind, and you felt blood rush to your face, something you desperately tried to fight off by thinking of anything you didn’t like. 

“Oh! I do have two orders, though! There’s going to be one chai tea latte with three pumps of vanilla, and a lavender tea with a splash of oat milk.”

Kirishima nodded his head, “Will this be for here, or to go?”

His voice sounds so similar to Kirishima, you hoped, studying his face. While you answered that it was to go, you saw a distinctive scar on his right eye. Kirishima had said he didn’t have any distinguishing features… 

“What are your favorites here?” you ask, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, your thoughts very evident in your face.

Kirishima couldn’t help but find hope bubbling up in his chest, there was always the possibility that you two lived in the same city-based off the same area code, and with what seemed like an incomplete knowledge in coffee, maybe…

Kirishima rambled off about the different seasonal drinks right now, his recommendations leaning towards the teas and non-coffee things primarily after his general and basic list. You seemed to take every word out of his lip like gospel, agreeing and nodding when appropriate, and his lips stretched into a grin when you bluntly exclaimed your ill knowledge of this all.

“To be honest, I only step into coffee shops to take a cute pic and then leave,” you laugh, pressing your hands against your lips and screaming a bit in your throat. 

Kirishima laughed, more confidence blooming through his body over the hope that this was you. It had to be you.

Your eyes then found the nametag on his apron, and like a sinking ship, you read Sero.

Not Kirishima.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the caramel macchiato,” you decide, a grateful smile on your face while he looks down and writes the orders.

“A name?”

“Penny,” came your automatic response.

You never used your real name in coffee shops.

Kirishima suppressed the way that his mouth wanted to drop into a sad smile, and like two rejected teenagers, the money was exchanged. Before Kirishima could attempt to calm his disappointed soul, you walked out of the shop with the coffees and tea in hand.

“What was that about?” Kaminari asked, his eyes wide. “There was so much flirting and then poof, gone from both sides. Come on, dude, it’s my job to fail at flirting, not yours!”

Kirishima laughed, ignoring the way that his three friends looked at him with concern and curiosity. “Nothing, I just… the customer looked like how y/n described herself to be…”

“Oh… sorry, bro.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Kirishima waved it off, and without so much as another slap on the back, he went back to work.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kirishima looked up from his phone, his fingers mid-type pausing only for a millisecond before continuing to text blindly. 

“Oh, hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” he cheerfully spoke, ignorant to the controller in the ash blond’s hand. 

“It’s your turn, shitty hair, pay fucking attention!” Bakugou barked, tossing the plastic controller into his chest. Kirishima grunted, the feeling of the plastic slamming against his chest was less than ideal, but the smile on his face didn’t waiver while he offered his best friend the controller back.

“It’s all good, you can have another turn, I can handle being out this round!”

“Kiri, that’s six rounds in a row,” Kaminari spoke up, his face in a teasing smirk.

It was then that Kirishima’s face turned approximately the same color as his hair. “I didn’t—”

“Awww, Eijirou has a little crush on y/n!!!” Kaminari sang, resulting in agreeing with noises from Sero and Midoriya. Only Bakugou and Todoroki remained silent. 

Kirishima only laughed, he knew he couldn’t deny that fact, but he wouldn’t say it aloud — especially because Bakugou seemed to hate you. It had been now four months since the two of you had ‘meet,’ and while he still had no face to imagine you with, things had taken a slightly flirty route between the two of you.

Calls were much more frequent, nearly all nights the two of you would speak, even if it was just a measly summary of the day and a ‘sweet dreams’ and a ‘goodnight’ and an ‘I love you.’ It always happened nowadays.

Tonight was an exception, of course, because he was out with his friends, and apparently, you were doing the same. 

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Bakugou spat, a laugh spluttering from his lips, but it was cold and held no humor. “You caught feelings for a person who’s too much of a fucking coward to reveal a picture of themselves?”

“That’s not fair; besides, it's not about physical appearance!” Kirishima waved him off, pressing send to his text message.

have fun tonight! text me when u get back home if ur able to!

“Just how naive can you be?” Bakugou sneered, his hand taking the phone from Kirishima's side. “Six months of talking every week, texting every day, and this y/n still hasn’t trusted you with a single picture of them? I know you said that she told you how she looked, and all that shit, but let's be real, it’s so easy to lie about how you look like when you don’t have to provide a picture. What y/n say? Big tits? Big ass? Small waist? What about her did she say that made you so fucking insane over her?”

“N-Nothing! We didn’t talk about our body types!” Kirishima’s eyes widened significantly, the once comfortable atmosphere of the room wholly gone while Bakugou’s vermillion eyes seethed silently. “None of that matters! I told you the truth! I like y/n because of her personality, she’s manly, and I like that a lot! It’s not about her appearance, how pessimistic can you get, bro! I promise you, she’s trustworthy!”

“Is she really?”

“What?”

“How can you be in love with someone who you trust entirely, but doesn’t trust you at all? You said that y/n won’t show you a picture of herself because she’s scared you won’t like her? How is that trusting you? How is that fucking fair? To me, that sounds like some fucked up catfishing thing.”

“We talk on the phone, dude,” Kirishima said softly, but those thoughts were invading his mind. Did you not trust him? He knew he wasn’t the best option in the world, and he had accepted that in time and by improving on what he thought he was best at. But did you, after all this time, really not believe him when he claimed nothing would change when he saw you? “Catfishes don’t even do that… besides, the first call was by accident, why would someone—”

“Dunce face, what’s that one fucking idiotic thing you do for fun?” Bakugou snapped at the blond, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I do that you—” Kaminari laughed awkwardly, his smile tight and awkward.

“Kaminari.”

“I call… random numbers… pretending to have a big issue to see how they react…” he admitted, and Kirishima’s stomach clenched.

“And?” Bakugou snarled.

“I pretend to be a girl…”

“Don’t be stupid, Bakugou, this is more than one time!” Kirishima groaned.

“It's a voice that you can’t attach a face to, who knows if this is a person you can trust! People with voice acting exist in this world, how the hell do you possibly know that they’re not one of them?! Be fucking real, if ‘y/n’ trusted you, if that’s even their name, they wouldn’t be hiding their face from you.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything else, the acid piling in his throat was too much for him to even look at his friend. The night didn’t really recover from that conversation, and Kirishima eventually found himself back home.

He sat at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, waiting for a message from you. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he had work tomorrow morning, he found himself wide awake, unable to let sleep consume.

It was three in the morning when you sent a text, his eyes still wide awake, and with shaky fingers, he read the message.

i just got home can you believe that i drank three cups of wine and didnt get tipsy??????? thats on being a raging alcoholic ;D

Kirishima wanted to laugh; on god, he would’ve found this beyond delightful to read because he knew you couldn’t handle your liquor, but that bitter stream of acid destroyed the humor in his thoughts.

Were you really telling the truth? Was this all a lie?

He didn’t text back; instead, his finger pressed the call button, and he held his breath.

“Helloooo?” a voice picked up on the second ring, but it wasn’t your voice. It was a voice he didn’t recognize at all.

‘Voice actors,’ Bakugou’s voice reentered his thoughts, and the phone in his hand nearly dropped.

“Sorry, hello?” the voice he knew as you finally came through, and Kirishima let out a shallow breath, one so small, so mediocrely weak it burned his lungs.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, maybe too softly because you asked with a strained laugh for him to repeat his words. “Do you trust me, y/n?”

There was a pause on your end, too long a beat for Kirishima to be comfortable with.

“Of course I trust you, Ei, are you okay?”

“Do you actually trust me, or are you lying?”

“Woah there,” you said a small laugh on your tongue, but there was only confusion in it, not your contagious sound. “Did you drink? It’s a work night, you never do that!”

“Answer the question,” Kirishima spoke with finality, his shoulders tense, tears pushing past his eyes while he struggled to maintain composure.

Prove Bakugou wrong, please, prove Bakugou wrong.

“Of course I do,” you spoke with genuine clarity, but still, Kirishima was rattled, his confidence blown. “What’s going on?”

Did he want to confess to his insecurities? Was it worth it? His breathing became frantic, almost as if he was going insane just thinking about where his thoughts were. But Kirishima was never good at hiding things, no he was as open as a book.

“Why won’t you let me see you… we’ve been friends for six months, and the only thing I know about you is your eye color and your hair color. It’s so insanely generic that I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, your voice small, almost a whisper of all the energy one could have at this time of night.

“I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t trust me, who’s using me,” he spoke with perfect clarity that hid away his insecurities about this all. “For all, I know nothing about you is real, that this is all just some ploy to hurt me in the end. Six months and you can’t trust me with a single meet up or even a picture? I just… has this been a game for you, y/n? Or is that even your name.”

The call ended and a single message held on his screen, this call has been dropped, but you didn’t seem to want to call him back.

Kirishima didn’t sleep a wink that night, his words coming back to bite him in the throat each and every time he thought he was close enough to sleep. Insecurities riled up in him, consuming him entirely.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

He tried to call back.

For fourteen straight days, Kirishima attempted to call you back.

Every time he called you, he would always hang up before he could take back his words. But each call, after he had prematurely hung up, he would recant his mean words to the unresponsive phone. He did trust you, he was weak, he was unmanly to assume those things. You could take, however long it took to finally trust him again because he would wait for you no matter what. He apologized again and again until the very last one he broke down into silent tears, a single message of ‘I hope one day you’ll forgive me’ hung weakly on his voice and put his phone away. 

It was sixteen days since he had spoken those cruel words to you, and in that time, he didn’t regret finally talking about his ill feelings towards wanting to reveal yourself to him. But he did regret the way it came out; instead of it being a deep and personal conversation, it came out as bitter and one-sided. The two of you were disconnected, and he felt empty.

But he couldn’t focus on it, not today, after all, it was Bakugou’s birthday, and everyone was gathering at the local fancy restaurant to celebrate. 

Kirishima dressed up presentable, wearing a navy blue button-up, and dark slacks. He walked towards the entrance of the restaurant where Kaminari, Sero, and Midoriya were eagerly leading the group of them into the building. Typically Kirishima would’ve been with them in terms of spirit, but he felt energyless at the moment.

With the moon high in the sky, Kirishima stilled when Bakugou called out his name.

He stared at his best friend, the ash blond’s lip curled into a sneer while he huffed, “Listen, Kirishima, I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What? Oh, no, it’s okay, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, his hand slapping to the back of his neck. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I never said I was wrong,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes locked on Kirishima’s while he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kirishima stilled, unsure as to where this would be leading. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I know that Mina hurt you badly, and you’re too big of an idiot to not see when things arise. Maybe y/n is genuine, but if you aren’t fucking honest with her about your own feelings about how she’s so secretive, it’s not going to work.”

Kirishima smiled softly, a weak shrug moving through him, “I know, thanks, man.”

Bakugou nodded, and without a word, he continued on ahead where Midoriya was yelling at them to hurry up and come so they could be seated. 

Kirishima sighed, rolling out his shoulders before following afterward.

Kirishima followed after the hostess, smiling at her gratefully when she sat the group into their own private room and left. 

“Bakugou’s paying, right?” Kaminari stage whispered to Midoriya while staring at the prices on the menu.

“Eat shit, dunce face, learn how to save up your fucking money the next time you offer to come to this fucking place!” Bakugou roared, hearing the whisper.

“I’ll be covering the bill,” Todoroki informed with a smirk on his face. Kirishima laughed, looking at the prices and indeed agreeing with Kaminari’s statement. Having a wealthy friend was very convenient at times like this.

“Hi, welcome to Eiko, I’ll be your waitress today!” a voice chirped from the entrance of the room, and Kirishima froze, he recognized that voice and face.

It was the person he had mistaken for you all those months ago.

By the smile on your face, it seemed that you recognized them all too.

“And what is your name,” Sero winked, his eyes captivated by you.

“Oh, haha, sorry, my name is y/n,” you smiled, moving the menus you held in your hand to show the silver nametag on your uniform.

“Oh, like Kirishima’s y/n,” Kaminari laughed, pointing a finger at Kirishima, not at all being as quiet as he probably thought himself to be. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who thought that because while Kirishima was staring at your face, embarrassingly taking you in, you followed Kaminari’s finger.

Your sight sat on the redhead in the middle whose name was Kirishima, and you straightened up in what felt like panic. 

“You’re Kirishima?” you asked quietly, your finger grasping the menus so tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

“The one and only,” Kaminari voiced for him, his arm thrown over Kirishima’s shoulder while he nodded like a scholar. “And why do you ask?”

“Shut the fuck up, dunce face.” Bakugou hissed.

Kirishima continued to stare at you, a million words running through his head, yet not a single one being translated on his tongue. You were beautiful.

What should he say?

What could he say?

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face, “Unbelievable.”

“Y/n—”

“Be quiet,” you snap, your tone angry, but your eyes beyond hurt. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Dinner wasn’t exactly a pleasant time, you came in and left faster than anyone could blink, and yet none of their drinks went empty, nor did they really have a problem. Much quicker than Kirishima would’ve liked, they were done and were soon piling out of the restaurant after Kirishima decided to leave a very, very generous tip.

“I’m going to stay until I can speak to y/n,” Kirishima said, waving off his friends who were expecting him to follow. But he couldn’t, not when he felt like the world's biggest ass for what he did to you.

“Good luck,” they all wished him well before eventually leaving, knowing better than to stick around.

So there at the outside bench, Kirishima waited.

Two hours he sat there until you emerged from the front door, your hair was no longer put back, you held your apron in your hand, and your purse on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” he called out, his feet no longer cemented into place; he strode after you.

You didn’t seem to pick up the pace, nor did you slow down. You were focused on your car that sat at the edge of the parking lot, and you ignored his calls.

It wasn’t until his hand touched your shoulder, and he appeared before you did Kirishima freeze again. Angry hot tears slid down your face, your face screwed up, your shoulders stiff.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you spat, but there was only exhaustion in your voice, nothing bitter, nothing at all what Kirishima deserved from you.

“I want to apologize,” Kirishima whispered, his hands struggling to reach out and wipe your tears away. You were crying because of him, he did this to you. “I was a dick, I was… beyond unmanly to you, and I’m so sorry! I just let Bakugou get into my head, and I’ve never been a secure person because, well, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know, but all I know is that you didn’t deserve this. And I like you so much, but I didn’t — I don’t know what to do?!”

Your eyes stared up at him, they were bright with tears, wounded beyond anything Kirishima could hope to fix.

“That night, you said if I didn’t trust you, but I did trust you! I’ve always trusted you—” your finger jabbed his chest— “but it was you who didn’t trust me! I get that it’s hard to not have a picture of someone you care about after a long length of time, but we were always fine for a while! It was going to happen, but while I trusted you, I didn’t trust myself, okay?! I couldn’t trust myself to see that if you were so much more handsome than me that I couldn’t be confident enough to let myself be friends with you! I constantly fuck up relationships when I have crushes on people because… I don’t know, I just do! But you were someone with no risk and the highest risk, and I wanted to be sure in my own feelings before giving you a picture of me! But… fuck, Kirishima, you didn’t trust me!”

Kirishima’s throat tightened, the tears on your face a guilty reminder that this was because of him. But how could he fix this?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands grabbing onto your arms just above the elbow, and his head hung by your forehead, not quite touching you, but just enough that his spiked hair teased the atoms between you. You were taller than he expected, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with, no, not at all. “You’re right, I didn’t trust you, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t think there’s anything that I can say, or do for that matter, to change your mind, and I’m sorry. I just panicked because who gets into this type of situation, how do I tell my phone friend that I have feelings for her? I was weak, and I am so fucking pathetic, and I just want to make things better. If you’ll let me be your friend again…”

He slowly looked back up at you, and you were frozen in your place, tears falling down your face still.

“I don’t think we can be friends,” you confessed, and Kirishima’s heart broke in two, his hands dropping from your arms in his embarrassment and humiliation.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry still, um… maybe I’ll see you again?” Kirishima smiled despite it all, he kept smiling despite the crack in his chest and his soul.

“You will,” you murmured, and before Kirishima could blink, your fists wrapped in his collar, and you brought him down for an ardent kiss that he was not quick to respond to. It took three seconds for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, kissing you again and again and again.

It didn’t seem to matter to either one of you that you were both now kissing without a care in the world in the middle of a parking lot, because you both had your emotions exposed to the other, and you didn’t want to be friends. At least not when the man who held your heart confessed that you held his in yours. 

The two of you weren’t truly disconnected, it was just a little lost moment in your call.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[colorseeingchick]

Crushing On You (Kirishima, Tamaki, Toyomitsu (Fat Gum))

Ion know bout y’all, but I consistently act weird around my crushes. That being said, I also can NEVER tell when someone has a crush on me (although I’m told its obvious). So let’s commemorate that, shall we? 

A/N: This one is dedicated to the lovely @kirislut​. She passively told me to write this and I was like yeah! And then proceeded to take 2 months to do it *sigh*. But yeah stan her or face my wrath >.<

Warnings: None! It’s fluffy. Y/N is written to match the age of the character (so a first year for Kiri, third year for Amajiki, late 20s for Fat). 

Kirishima Eijirou (xBruh!Y/N)

Kiri would be crushing on you for a long time before he even realizes he’s crushing on you. 

You would be a part of the Bakusquad,  and you also made an effort to stand up for yourself against Bakugou, and something about that really got to Kiri. 

You were somehow so *manly* while also so hot AND cute? Damn, how do you do it? 

Not that he understood that he saw you in such a light.  

Because Kiri doesn’t realize he has a crush on you, he wouldn’t necessarily be super blushy or flustered at first. 

When around you, he’s showering you in compliments.

When you aren’t around, he’s constantly bringing you up in conversation. Every conversation. With every single person. 

He would also team up with you to tease Bakugou.

And you already know that if anyone had anything negative to say about you, then he would stand up for you in a heartbeat. 

He really admired you, to say the least. He loved being around you. That was all (he thought).

That is, until the bros™ decided to give him a talk. 

“So..Y/N?” Is all Sero would say. 

And obviously Kiri smiled at your name, but didn’t know why they were bringing you up. 

“Are you gonna ask them out anytime soon? If you wait any longer I might just do it myself,” Kaminari tries to playfully nudge Kirishima into understanding. 

“Ask them out???” Kiri is now in shock! Because where did this come from!

That being said, his face also got as red as his hair, and the thought of you hugging him or staring back at him felt like a really pleasant idea all of a sudden. 

“Oi, shitty hair, don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own feelings. Are you really that much of an idiot?” Bakugou asks, his tone irritated and disinterested.

Although, he’s kinda invested in seeing you two get together at this point. The whole squad was. 

And then it hit the man like a truck. 

Shit! I have a crush on the coolest, strongest, most amazing person I know. 

After this point, he doesn’t know if he’s ready to ask you out yet. But he definitely starts acting differently. 

Usual shoulder leans and elbow nudges now make him feel like Kaminari was electrocuting him.. 

Any compliments you sent his way would cause Kiri.exe to stop working.

And your smile would make him feel starstruck. 

It was a breaking point when a school sponsored dance came around and you showed up looking like a WHOLE SNACK in the most elegant dress/tux/(whatever badass clothes you wanna be rockin). .

Kiri straight up would not look at you. He fully refused to turn his head in your direction, which was hard because the Bakusquad decided to spend the whole time there together, which meant he wasn’t leaving your side. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou was so confused (I mean same. Kiri THEY LOOK LIKE A SNACK why aren’t you basking in their glory jeez).

“SHHH Bakugou. It’s not manly to stare…” 

Kiri was worried that he would ogle you into discomfort, jaw dropped and eyes wide because his heart would burst upon looking at you for too long. 

In turning his head, he didn’t notice Kaminari and Sero approach you, whispering into your ear.

It was only when you came up and tapped him on his shoulder that he turned around and looked at you, you smiling at him. 

“Hey Kiri, do you wanna dance with me?”

Hey would pause, because he was really flustered, but then he would flash his huge toothy grin and gladly take your hand, pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with him into the night. 

BONUS: While dancing with you, Kiri would only look at your face and refused to look at your feet, causing him to stumble a couple of times. 

And naturally, you would ask him about it. 

He would blush but explain, “I didn’t want you to think that I was staring down at your body and making you uncomfortable…”  

WANDERING EYES ARE NOT MANLY! change Kiri’s mind. 

You would laugh and respond, “Hey, if you need to look at our feet to make sure we don’t trip, I don’t mind.”

But you would then pull close to him, wrapping one hand around his neck and speak quietly into his ear-

“And if you wanna look at the rest of me while you're at it, I wouldn’t mind that either.” 

Kiri.exe has stopped working once again. Good job Y/N! 

Amajiki Tamaki (xGentle!Y/N)

Tamaki would have a crush on you after being your friend for a little while. 

Like at first he was super nervous around you because people are nerve inducing and scary (I feel ya buddy its ok).

Over time though, you guys became closer friends. He realized how gentle and sweet you were.

You would spend a lot of time together, studying, going to get food, and training together.

You also would spend late nights together, especially when one of you was stressed or having a panic attack. You kept each other safe. 

It wasn’t a surprise to Tamaki when he found himself wanting to spend more time with you. 

It didn’t shock him that he loved looking into your eyes. 

He felt himself, and watched himself, fall in love with you. 

But despite that, he wasn’t really as awkward about it as you would expect him to be. 

Your entire relationship had been very wholesome and close from the start, and because he was aware of his feelings from the get go, there wasn’t any real shock. 

Ultimately, you were his safe space, and he would rather not compromise that by bringing his emotions into it. He was content to love you from a bit of a distance. 

In a non creepy way, he loved to watch you. He knows looking at people you love or feel safe with is a really good way to calm anxiety and ground yourself, and that’s what Tamaki does all the time with you. 

Just watch you work or eat and laugh. It was enough to keep him together. 

And the times you told him “I love you” made his heart soar, even if he knew it was platonic.

He also had a journal with writing in it, where he would write small notes or lines about his thoughts. Many were about you and how pretty you looked when you came to his room in PJs when you couldn’t sleep, or how happy you were when you down a bowl of ramen, or how-

You get the idea. 

 Though he was content with accepting his crush on you, nothing could have prepared him for how you found out. 

You both had been working together in his room. He was working on some homework while you were studying for your *least* favorite subject, math.

So you ask if you can see his notes to help you understand better.

“Yeah. It’s the first one on my shelf. Its the most recent pages.”

What he forgot was that he had moved it into his backpack and the nondescript notebook that sat first on his shelf was his journal. 

While he kept working, you opened to try and figure out how integrals worked, but instead were met with a cute doodle of your face with a heart next to it.

The line above it said, “On a cold day, y/n’s smile keeps me warm.”

It was oddly poetic, a lil sappy, insanely heart tingling but cOMPLETELY out of left field because- what? This was definitely NOT integrals.

“Tamaki, I don’t think this is the right book…”

He looks up and his face drops in horror as he sees you with his journal, your eyes dazed and unsure.

“O-oh! I’m s-s-so s-sorry I-”

He trips off his bed and runs right up to you, tugging the notebook out of your hand and pulling it to his chest. “This isn’t how I meant for you to f-f-find out I have a c-crush on you-u.” His eyes are glued to the floor. 

“...Tamaki, you have a crush on me?” You ask, in a calm (but very shocked) tone. 

His eyes shot up, wide, and he scrambled through the notebook to see what you read. It was just the doodle and one line, but if you had flipped a page back, you would have seen a long rambling explaining how much he liked you.

But, you didn’t flip a page back, and instead, Tamaki had 100% exposed himself. 

“Y/N I’m s-so so sorry you probably think that I’m a creep now I swear that I really value our friendship and I don’t mean to ruin it so you can just forget about this and-”

He went on for a while, lost in his words and slowly falling apart while you were trying to process what you heard. 

He had a crush on you too? What a relief. You wish you realized sooner! But better late than never right?

Now for how you were gonna calm him down.

On instinct, you wanted to jump on him and kiss him till he couldn’t breathe, but that would probably freak him out more than anything else. 

So you just do what feels right. 

“I really hope you don’t hate me or think I’m weird you just really make me feel complete and peaceful and I never meant to-”

You reach out and gently take hold of one of his hands, pulling it to your face, and softly kiss his knuckles. 

He stops rambling and looks like a deer in headlights as his face ignites into a bright red. 

“WHY DID YOU-” 

“Shhh.. Tamaki… I like you too, okay? I like you a lot. So please calm down.”

What a roller coaster for this poor boy. “Y-you don’t think I’m obsessed with you?”

“I don’t! Well, if you’re obsessed with me, I’m just as obsessed with you, so its okay!” 

You smile at him and he blushes, hiding his face into his shoulder, his hand still sweetly entangled with yours. 

“I, I’m glad,” he manages to get the words out after a few seconds.

For the first time in the history of your relationship, Tamaki was a flustered blushy mess with you. 

“Cmon Tamaki, we have more studying to do!!” You want him to mentally gather himself, so you take him back to his bed, hands still intertwined. 

BONUS: After failing at studying, Tamaki laid down on his bed and stared at the wall, failing to nap, while you were sitting at the foot of the bed.  

His mind was racing. 

“We like each other, but we haven’t talked about it since that moment… What if things are going to be awkward? I don’t want it to be what should I-”

The bed dipped down behind him and an arm snaked up around his torso. His back was pulled against your chest. 

“Is it okay if I take a nap with you, sweetheart?” You ask in a lazy and sleepy voice. 

His heart fluttered at the nickname. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m glad. I love you, Tamaki.” And with that, you nuzzle into his back and fall asleep. 

And with the feeling of your arms and your stable breathing, he realized you were still his safe space. And with that he was lulled to sleep. 

Toyomitsu Taishiro (x Foodie!Y/N)

You’re assigned to represent your agency for the team-up with Fat Gum’s agency.

When you rolled in, Fat Gum didn’t take much note of you at first. 

But when you intensely fawn over takoyaki during lunch break on the first day, he felt like his eyes were being reopened and he was seeing you for the first time. 

Love at first meal!

Though he initially found you attractive because he shares his love of food with you, he slowly found himself loving everything about you. 

You’re a lighthearted person, with a big heart and an even bigger appetite.

You brought a lot of joy, and that was energy Taishiro could never get enough of.

He knew he was a goner when one day were pranked by one of his Agency members, got caught off guard, and ended up jumping at him. 

He caught you and held you (cuz hero instincts obviously), and in that moment you couldn’t help but hug him out of fear (and because he’s SO CUDDLY REEEEEE).

But that’s enough for him to realize he wants to hold you more. And often. 

Yeah he’s whipped okay.

He definitely tries to keep it professional! And not *overtly* flirt with you.

But he brings you food literally 2 or 3 times a day. 

That may sound like a lot, but given its Fat Gum, it came off pretty innocuous at first.

He’s also really observant, so he picks up on what type of foods you really like. 

So he very often pulls up with your favorites, which always makes your day better. 

He also tries to give you some of his favorite foods, and days you like his favorites were the best. 

He was living his best life watching you be happy, even in a professional setting. 

Fat Gum finally came forward about his feelings for you after a mission went awry. 

It was supposed to be an information retrieval mission- simple get in get out. 

You, Fat, and Sun Eater were going to be working together. 

Fat would guard, Sun Eater would infiltrate and restrain, while you would obtain necessary documents.

That plan is sabotaged the moment you realized the League is also present- when they definitely were not supposed to be. 

Before you can process this shocking information, a knife is being plunged into your stomach. 

Toga smiles down at you- “pretty blood from a pretty person, I’m sorry I can’t help myself.”

She jumps back when Sun Eater sends an octopus arm at her. 

He grabs you in the process and pulls you back, where Fat is now standing by his side, eyes wide in horror. 

He takes you into his arms, and the last thing you feel is being held against his fluffiness before blacking out. 

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, Recovery Girl on one side of you, and Taishiro on the other, in his skinny form. 

Evidently, he had beaten most of the villains to a pulp, but the League had dipped before he could do much more damage. 

But after that, he had carried you to the ambulance and hasn’t left your side since. It’s been half a day. 

“Fat Gum…” 

“Hey do me a favor and call me Taishiro, okay?” He asks you very gently.

“Tai-shiro…” Oof his heart skipped a beat at hearing you say his name. 

“Taishiro, the mission…”

“Shhh it’s okay. There’s an interrogation of the villains that we captured going on right now, and Fourth Kind’s agency is following up on our leads. We did our job for now.”

“Are you okay? Amajiki-kun, is he okay?”

“We’re both fine. Some scratches on him, a lil fat lost for me, but we’re okay.”

“Taishiro...The agency, why are you here? You should be there running the ag-”

“I want to be here with you. That’s why I am here. I trust my assistants to cover for me right now.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I still don’t understand why…”

“Because I like you. I like you lots, Mx. L/N.  I know our relationship has been professional, but seeing you injured was something I didn’t…. I care a lot and I couldn’t find it in myself to leave you here alone. I hope our relationship can stay professional and friendly though, I really enjoy spending time with you.”

Recovery Girl looks back and forth between you two, eyeing your shocked face and his determined, serious one. 

“I’ll be back to check on you in an hour, Y/N. But I’ll leave you two alone for now ~~~” 

You paused, silent. The longer you stayed silent the faster his heart began to race. 

Suddenly, you sit up, placing weight on the heels of your palms. 

“Y/N you’re still injured what are you-”

It's your turn to cut him off, grabbing his jacket and yanking him towards you with your left hand.

Your right hand going to wrap around the back of his neck,

and your body falls back, 

Caught off guard, half standing, and balance lost, Fat’s upper body is now looming above yours, his hands planted on either side of you.

His eyes are wide, and your hands on the back of his neck are warm.

“I’m sorry, Taishiro… but I don’t want this relationship to stay just professional. So can I kiss you?”

His heart flutters, and his classic grin spreads across his face as he closes his eyes and let’s his face close the distance between you two. 

BONUS: You and Fat Gum decided that you didn’t want to tell people that you had started dating- the news would take it and make it a public affair. 

But you decided to leave it up in the air for your agency to figure out. They were your friends after all. 

The first to catch on was Amajiki, but he stayed quiet. 

But the new recruit Kirishima wasn’t as quiet about his suspicions. 

When he walked in to see you hug Fat Gum, he didn’t know how to react. 

You both seemed fine and acted as if hugging was a perfectly normal thing he shouldn’t be surprised by. 

You say goodbye and pat Kiri’s head on the way out. 

The last thing you heard was a loud scream, followed by a “Fat, you and Y/N are dating?” 

Yeah! Cat’s out of the bag.

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima fluff #kirishima headcanon #kirishima imagines #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #red riot #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki fluff #tamaki headcanons #tamaki imagines #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #sun eater #toyomitsu taishiro #taishiro toyomitsu

[deltas-writing-corner]

Warmth: Prologue (2/3)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimers: Besides the prologues, I will be posting the first 1000 or so words of every new/next chapter.  There will be a link to my AO3 at the end of the post, where the full chapters are at!

Warnings: mentions of blood

Masterlist: (coming soon)

"Here, let me help with-"

"It's alright!" Fuku shouts as she lifted several rolls of fabric with ease.

To say Fuku was doing a little better is an understatement. She was fantastically better. When Yuki and you came into work the morning after her accident, she didn't greet you both in her usual polite and quiet manner. Fuku had loudly welcomed you both in as if the shop were suddenly a bustling restaurant.

You were mending a ripped seam in the back room when Yuki suddenly enters and whispers, "Please tell me I haven't gone crazy, or is Fuku much more lively than yesterday?"

You resist the urge to smile. She got her spunk back indeed.

"I quite like this sudden shift in her character," you say.

"I do too, really! I haven't seen her like this since I was a kid. But the sudden switch from sweet to sassy is…" her mind trails off with uncertainty. She looks over her shoulder to make sure you two were alone still. "Do you think her accident yesterday had anything to do with her personality change?"

"They say your life flashes before your eyes in an instant when you come close to death. Maybe she decided to drop the quiet act and be true to herself."

"Yeah, that's it isn't it?" Yuki asks more to herself than to you. "But should she really be carrying all those fabric rolls? Those things are heavier than they look."

"Perhaps her back is doing better?"

"In a day?!"

She was getting more confused, more frustrated as she tried to wrap her head around everything. You put your needle and thread down and turn towards her. "Do you remember what I said yesterday?" you ask. Her tense shoulders relax a bit and she nods. "Then trust me on this. She's going to be fine. Would I ever lie to you if I didn't think she would?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know why, but you saying she's going to be okay somehow reassures me that it will be."

You give her a pat on the head, but she pulls you into a tight hug. You would hug her back if she wasn't squeezing your arms against your body. It was strange. Her hugging you like this almost makes you feel as if you two had truly become…

You don't finish that statement, for fear that your rival would hear it and use it against you. You nearly forgot that you could never truly make friends, not when you're still in the midst of a never-ending battle with a damn snake that targets the people around you. One of these days, you're going to get rid of it for good by any means necessary. Even if that means you would have to die with it, so be it. Anything to make sure it doesn't come out victorious.

You won't take away the people I love again.

 _______________________________________________________________

The last time you took a vacation was...never. You've never been on vacation. Your 50-year lone journey could technically count, considering you don't work and essentially goof around most of those years. It wasn't to relax from the stresses of work though. It was merely to pass the time before you could integrate back into society without causing a fuss. It would also help you forget about the people you had gotten to know.

You look over to your co-worker and boss. "Can't I just relax at home? Do I really need to go all the way out to…"

"Kyoto," Yuki finishes your thought.

"Right. Do I really need to go out to Kyoto to relax?"

Fuku shakes her head in disbelief. "Honestly, all you ever do is work! You'll go stir crazy if you don't switch up your surroundings every now and then."

"Besides," Yuki chimes in. "If anyone deserves a vacation, it's you. I don't think you understand how much you work. It's admirable, but also very concerning."

Seeing their worried expression, you feel a bit bashful. They were only looking out for you, thinking you to be tied down to the same limitations they have. You badly want to just bite the bullet and tell them the true nature of who you are. Surely they would understand, right? They would accept you for who you truly are, right? The coiling of the snake around your arm keeps your confession at bay.

Apparently, a vacation for you meant a vacation for it as well. Tormenting you must be such a demanding job after all.

You made sure to sharpen your axe real well the other night.

The chugging of the train grew louder and louder. You and a few other people, mostly fellow travelers from outside your town, walk up to the yellow line on the ground and stand to wait. The train begins to slow down into a complete stop. Once halted, a hiss of steam is let out and the doors creak open.

You turn to give your farewells to your friends and surprisingly find yourself in the middle of a group hug. You give Fuku and Yuki their own pat on the back and they squeeze you a bit harder.

"Have fun! Don't forget to call me and take a bunch of pictures!" Yuki demands.

"And bring a man home," Fuku adds.

You laugh at her comment. She really was a feisty one.

Adjusting the bag hanging from your shoulder, you step onto the train cart and take a seat. After a few minutes, the doors close and you begin to depart from the station. As you look back out the window behind you, you see Fuku and Yuki still standing there, waving you off even as you gradually disappear over the horizon. You swear, they both looked ready to burst into tears.

A tightness against your arm grabs your attention. After wriggling about from under your sleeve, the snake finally pokes its head out and turns its head towards you.

"So," you whisper, as to not attract any attention from your fellow passengers. "It took you awhile to come back. Did I cut you up that badly?"

It hisses at you for mocking it. Uncaring of it feelings, you uncoil it from your arm and drop it in the seat next to you. Should any of the passengers have watched you, they would see you moving nothing. You were actually grateful they couldn't see it. If they did, they would all certainly panic. You did not want to be known as the traveler who carries a deadly snake with them.

You cross one leg over the other and sink in your seat. "Y'know, I should give you a name. It's starting to become annoying just referring to you as 'the snake'."

It seemed surprised that you were speaking to it on neutral terms. Usually, your interactions were hostile and more or less ended with you chopping it into fine bits. It slithers back onto you, this time coiling around your neck. You nearly flinch at the familiar sensation you felt as it tightened its grip to gain stability.

I felt this in my first memory. Go figure.

You pull out your phone and quickly search up an image of a color wheel. You take care to lift the screen up to the snake's eye level while not appearing odd from any lingering gazes. You tell it to tap on a color, and from the one it selects, you would refer to it as that henceforth. It was unimpressed by your naming process but you tell it that it was either this or you give it the most insulting name you can think of.

It looks at the screen for a minute. It then presses the tip of its mouth against the glass and selects the color black.

"How original," you sarcastically say. It responds by tightening around your neck. "Alright. I'll call you Kuro from now on. It'll make cutting you up all the more personal."

Your one-sided chat ends with Kuro, who turns his head away and settles around your neck. You pull up your phone's built-in navigation app and look at the expected arrival time, 3 hours. You lean forward and prop both elbows on your knees. For the next few hours, you just sat there and waited, not bothering to look out the window and marvel in the passing scenery. Your focus was entirely on Kuro, making sure that he wouldn't try to sneak off of you and attack any of the other passengers. He usually only goes for people you had grown attached to or spend most of your time with, but you weren't going to take any chances.

You give yourself a bit of comfort by sticking your hand in your duffel bag and squeezing the familiar handle of your axe.

________________________________________________________________

The city still amazes you. It was hard to believe that in just a couple hundred years, humanity would evolve so rapidly. As amazing as the advancement of humanity was, the air quality has gone to complete shit. Along with sleeping and eating, you didn't need to breathe either. You're thankful you didn't have to subject yourself to the polluted air and spare yourself from burning your lungs. Kuro seems to hate the air as well, as he makes a sort of gagging noise once you step out of the station.

Finally, we agree on something

You robotically push past the crowds, flag down a taxi, and check into your hotel room. You send a quick text to Yuki to let her know you arrived safely and thank her again for booking the room for you. Once you set your belongings down and relax against the plush bed, you get a text back.

'What r u going to do?'

That's right. This was supposed to be a vacation. You were supposed to be going out and doing literally anything other than work.

What the hell are you even supposed to do?

You text back, 'idk.'

'Seriously??? There's a ton of stuff you could do in Kyoto!'

'Like what?'

'I heard shrines are lovely this time of the year'

________________________________________________________________

The fact that you, a god, are visiting a shrine to be very, very hilarious. Kuro hates it apparently, which made it even funnier.

"Aww, don't be like that," you jokingly cooed at him.

You used the ladle from the shrine pavilion to scoop up the so-called purified water and bring it close to him. He hisses so violently that the shrine maiden that acted as a guide for you and your fellow visitors flinched and looks around to find the source of her scare. Deciding to spare him any more stress and reason to go on a frenzy, you put the ladle back in the basin and catch up to the departing group.

The tour was simple, a mere walk around the temple and it's public areas while the guide explained the history behind each building, important figures, and various rituals the worshipers practice. It wasn't the most exciting way to spend your first day on vacation, but you found still found it interesting and very educational.

Near the end of the tour, the guide leads you all up to a statue of a woman. Her skin is as white as milk, half of her black hair twisted up in a bun while the rest flowed down her back. It was a hairstyle your mother would style on you and even taught you how to do it yourself. Her kimono was a faded gold color from years of natural degradation. The pattern on her stone clothing reminded you of flames.

Your tour guide stops and turns back towards you all. "This here is a statue of the sun goddess, Amaterasu. She is a central deity within the Shinto religion. The Japanese nobility claim their divine right to rule by claiming to be her descendants."

Your tour guide went on about the shrine's methods of worship for Amaterasu, but you completely drowned out her words. You found yourself completely enamored by the statue.

Something about it was...

Hearing that name was…

Your body was...

"Miss?" One of the tour-goers waves her hands in front of your vision in an attempt to gain your attention. "Is everything alright?"

As you slowly regain your focus, you notice a wetness on your face. You had shed a tear. You quickly wiped it away and gave the concerned woman a reassuring smile. "Allergies."

She seemed relieved and without a second thought reached into her bag to pull out a bottle. She pops off the cap, shakes out two antihistamine pills and hands them to you. You take them and hide them under your tongue before taking a gulp of water from your plastic bottle. You thank her, waiting for her to walk off with the group before spitting them out.

Kuro gives a condescending flick of his tongue against the cheek your tear descended on. You slap his head away and growl, "Not a word."

You take a moment to gather yourself before heading back with the group. Before you turn the corner and lose sight of the statue, you spare it one last glance. When you looked at it again, you were certain what you were feeling wasn't just a fluke.

You felt warm.

________________________________________________________________

The tour ended not long after you all saw the statue of the sun goddess. You didn't leave until night, when the Shrine closed to the public. You spent the entire day just staring at the statue, basking in the familiar warmth that filled within your body.

"I know you don't care, but that wasn't some coincidence," you say to Kuro. "That warm feeling. It's similar, no, the exact same warmth I summon when I heal people!"

You yank him off your neck and plop him on the nearest surface, a stone tablet of sorts with writing carved into it. It was monument for some historical figure, but you didn't care about it. He looks at you as if he was actually considering your words for once. At this point, you could care less about this ingrained rivalry between you two. If there was anyone else in the world that could ever relate to you, it would be him.

"Who the hell am I? What the hell are we? Who the hell made us so hellbent on screwing each other over? Actually, let me rephrase. Why are we so hellbent on screwing each other over?"

You kept rattling on question after question. Contemplating the meaning of your existence to a snake that no one but yourself could see. In your confused frenzy, you fail to notice the grey clouds engulfing the sky. The loud roar of lightning and sudden rainfall put a halt to your pacing.

So much for clear skies.

The sound of footsteps approaching your figure brought your attention back down to earth. "Are you alright ma'am? Do you have an umbrella?" a man in a lab coat and glasses looks at you with a blank stare, but his voice indicates that he was worried for you.

You shake your head. "I didn't think it would rain today."

The man opens his mouth to say something when suddenly, your eardrums are assaulted by another clap of lightning. This time, it struck the space right next to the both of you. You frantically search your surroundings to locate exactly where it struck. The monument that your rival was on had been completely shattered into pieces.

Shit, I put Kuro on that!

The bespectacled man kneels down towards you and offers you his hand. You didn't realize that you had fallen over until you finally registered the stinging on each of your knees. You reach out towards his offered hand. Before you could place your hand in his own, darkness suddenly enveloped your vision followed by a wave of dizziness. You instinctively shut your eyes and nurse your head in your hands.

The wet and cold air of the rainstorm was suddenly replaced with a suffocating heat. You manage to open your eyes and find yourself in a completely new setting. You were on the balcony of a building, currently blanketed in flames and billowing smoke. You accidentally inhaled due to your shock and began to cough as your lungs fill with black air.

Your fit alerts a figure in the room of your presence. Seeing you, a defenseless woman all so suddenly, they found themselves frozen in shock. Your vision began to slowly clear up enough for you to notice the familiar sheen of metal. Whoever it was that you were looking at had a sword in hand, tip aimed to the floor where a man lied unconscious at his feet.

Instinctively, you reached into your handbag and grabbed your axe. You put all the force you could muster into your grip and threw it at the man with the sword. He gave out a cry of pain, indicating that you had landed a hit on him. He suddenly backs away from the body and you think you hear him mutter some sort of apology before running out the room. With the threat now gone, you make your way towards the man on the floor. He was still unconscious, so you took a firm hold of his shoulders and began to shake him awake. He wakes up with a sputter before taking notice of you.

"Who are you?" his booming voice asks

"No time for introductions! The building is burning and we need to leave! Now!"

You didn't give him a chance to get in another word. Grabbing his forearm and hoisting him on his feet, you pulled him out of the fiery room. You make sure to grab your axe, wedged deep into the wood of the door frame, on your way out.

Miraculously, you manage to find a way out the building. As soon as you're lungs fill with fresh air, you double over into another coughing fit. As you try to calm your breaths, you turn back to building. It was a temple, but not like the one you visited earlier in the day. This one seemed more rustic. It was hard to fully picture what it might have looked like due to it being quite on fire still.

If you hadn't escaped in time, the man you dragged along with you would have perished. If not by the stab of the sword looming over him, then by the flames. Speaking of him, he looks out towards the burning temple with you. Instead of worry or panic, he seemed to be rather annoyed.

"Someone tried to do away with me as I slept? Audacious, but foolish. Killing my guards and managing to get so close to me is another matter."

Who cares if you were asleep or not?! You almost died!

He then turns towards you, taking notice of your grip still on his arm. "You there," he addresses you. "Let go of me."

You let go of his arm and he rubs it as if your grip was uncomfortable. He took in the person standing before him, his apparent savior.

"You may be mere entertainment the monks brought in, but you saved my life nonetheless. You have my thanks."

Did he just insinuate that you were a prostitute?

"I must have missed all the monks among the fire. I don't have a clue how I ended up in there," you tell him.

It's now that you begin to take in your surroundings. You were no longer within the city, not a single skyscraper obscuring the night sky in sight. The air, despite standing next to a burning building, wasn't as disgusting to breathe in. The man you rescued had striking features. His hair black and eyes a carnelian hue. He wore armor sporting colors of black, white, and red. You remember seeing such attire way back when your parents were alive. He was some sort of soldier.

"What are you staring at? Surely you know who I am?" He asks. You shake your head, being at a total loss for words. This genuinely confuses him. "You saved me not knowing who I am? Not expecting reward or favor?" He gives a deep chuckle that echoes throughout the night. "So be it, I shall tell you my name. I am the man who will rule all under the sun-"

Your silence is broken by your faint laugh. Was this man seriously going to monologue and create some sort of suspenseful build-up over his own name? After he just escaped the clutches of death?

He lifts an eyebrow. "Have I said something amusing?"

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggles and shake your head once more. Surely, he must have thought you rude.

Instead, he lets out another round of laughter, this time louder. "You're a curious one. No one has acted so impudently to me before." He takes a step closer to you and you take half a step back. "You intrigue me, which is almost as worthy of praise for saving my life. I am the Lord of Azuchi Castle and Daimyo of Owari, Nobunaga Oda."

Your head involuntarily tilts to the side. You look up at him and say, "...Who?"

His brows furrow. Now he was getting frustrated. "Do you truly not know who I am?"

You fiddle with your thumbs. "Noooooo?"

"You are indeed a strange one. But I have given you my name. Now, give me yours."

You hesitated, but decided it was safe to give him your name.

"I see. A good name befitting my savior"

Was that a compliment? Hang on, where the hell are you?!

You shake your head as if to clear your mind of its confused state. "Now that we got the introductions out the way. Tell me, where are we?"

"We are at Honno-ji. The building before you is-"

"A temple. I can see that. What year is it?"

He seems taken back by your question and of the fact that you interrupted him. "It is 1582. Why?"

Ah, 1582………WHAT?!

Before you could understandably freak out, the galloping of hooves grabs both your attention. The man at the front of the small group heading in your direction shouts, "Lord Nobunaga, you're safe!"

Once he reaches a safe distance, he hurriedly dismounts and approaches you both on foot. The others that rode alongside him turn their attention towards the building and begin shouting out orders to put out the flames.

"Mitsunari," Nobunaga turns to him. "Why have you come? Where is Hideyoshi?"

"Lord Hideyoshi sent me ahead. He should arrive here shortly," Mitsunari explains. He then takes in the sight of the smoldering temple and frowns. "It would seem the information we received about your assassination attempt was correct."

You feel another coughing fit coming and try to muffle it. It is then that Mitsunari takes notice of you.

"Oh, who might you be?"

Nobunaga calls out to you. He gives a nod to Mitsunari as an indication that you were no threat and then commanded, "Present yourself to my subordinate."

"I'm- Ow!"

Something pierces your ankle and you nearly fall over yet again. Mitsunari pulls you towards him and swiftly draws his sword out. As your eyes search the ground for what could have bitten you, you notice the familiar black scales of your rival hidden between the blades grass.

"Kuro! You bastard, I thought the lightning fried you to a crisp!"

As much as you hate to admit, you were glad to see the serpent is alive and well. However, as Mitsunari took notice of the snake, he pulled you further in until you were between him and Nobunaga.

"A snake?! Please stand back!"

He firmly planted his right foot on the ground and raised his sword. You immediately went on the defense and shoved him into the Nobunaga's chest. They were dumbfounded as they saw you place yourself protectively in front of the snake as if they were the threat, not it.

"Stop! He's with me!"

"My lady, the snake could potentially be venomous. Please walk carefully towards me,' Mitsunari beckons you to him.

Oh, he's much more than venomous… hold on.

You look down towards Kuro, then to Mitsunari, then to Kuro and back to the grey-haired man again. "You...You can see him?"

"Of course I can! Now please, get back!"

You glare down at him. "You bastard! You can make people see you at will can't you?!"

Unsurprisingly, he plays dumb and slithers back on you. Like before, he situates himself around your neck before turning his gaze towards the two armor-clad men. He sends an almost condescending gaze at the grown men panicking before him, a tiny viper.

"Ok, before you panic let me explain. This is Kuro. Say hi." You roll your eyes as he hisses at them. What else did you expect? "Lovely. He's my…we've known each other for a long time."

"You say that as if the snake were a person." Nobunaga notices.

Man don't even get me started!

"He's more aware than most, but he isn't harmful. So long as you don't annoy him he won't try to lunge at you." You shift your weight to the foot he had bitten, reminding you of the fact that he sunk his fangs into you just moments ago. "Except me. He'll only bite me."

"He's not venomous, is he?" Mitsunari asks.

"He has venom," you stupidly say, but quickly backtrack on your statement. "But he never shoots it in me, I swear! like I said, you just have to be cautious around him and not give him a reason to bite you."

"A woman with a venomous snake as her companion. There is no end to your amusement, is there?" Nobunaga speaks up, impressed, and not at all ashamed of feeling so, "Mitsunari, this is my savior. Remember her well."

"I thank you for rescuing our Lord," the man, clad in purple armor and a singular beauty mark under his right eye, bows deeply towards you. "My name is Mitsunari Ishida. I serve Nobunaga's right-hand man."

You wave your hands frantically to stop him. "Ah, no need to be so formal! Despite the circumstances, It's nice to meet you as well."

you properly introduce yourself to Mitsunari, who instantly perks up at your more welcoming demeanor. "Is your foot alright? That bite must have hurt. Though now that I've gotten a better look at you, you don't appear to be a nun. Are you perhaps from abroad?"

You look down towards yourself and realized you were wearing nothing but a t-shirt, capris, and some old worn out sneakers. You must look like a clown to them. Also, what were you even supposed to say in this sort of situation? Hey, I'm from 500 years in the future. Did I forget to mention I'm actually a 300 year old deity? Life sure is crazy!

Not knowing what is safe and not safe to say, you remained quiet. Mitsunari takes notice of your hesitation and looks back at Nobunaga for some guidance. The man, now over your rude behavior, steps past his subordinate and towers over you.

"Were you not taught to speak when spoken to? You may have saved my life, but there is only so much disobedience I will tolerate. Tell us where you hail from, and quickly."

You and Kuro glance at each other. Like most of your standoffs, there seems to be a mutual understanding between you two without the need for words. Remain silent. Do not tell them of your origin or of the nature of your being. Even if he decides you aren't trustworthy and strikes you down where you stand, you will survive the blow.

You kept your mouth shut. He seems more disappointed than angry towards your answer and turns towards Mitsunari. "Restrain her. She is now officially a suspect in the assassination plot on my life"

"My Lord. She's clearly disoriented from the chaos-"

"Restrain her," he ordered with finality.

Mitsunari, hesitant but not one to disobey orders, grabs a length of rope from his horse's saddle and walks back towards you. "Please give me your hands,' he politely demands of you. You do as you're told.

"It's alright," you whisper to him. "If it makes you feel better, my reason for being silent is just for my safety. I mean you all no harm. You have my word."

"I…" he appears caught between his orders and trusting in you. "I will trust you. No person with ill intent would risk their life to save Lord Nobunaga."

You thank him by giving his hand a comforting squeeze. He makes sure to tie your hands in a manner that would make escaping impossible, but not tight enough to hurt your wrists. You're escorted away from the temple, to a camp not too far away. You're led to a nearby bonfire and told to sit and not make any sudden moves. Mitsunari steps away from you and is replaced by two of the soldiers he brought with him.

"Hey," you try to whisper as quietly as you can to Kuro, "I have a suggestion. Care to hear it?"

He slithers around your neck until he's facing you head-on. It seems he's willing to listen. "Let's call a truce," you simply state. "The only conditions are that we look out and help one another until we find a way back to our time. After we return, we can go back to despising each other for the next hundreds of years."

Were you seriously offering an alliance with your sworn enemy? Yes, yes you were. As much as you both detest the idea of having to tolerate each other, the current situation made it clear that the only way you two are going to manage to get home is to put your heads together. Maybe even get along for a change?

Ugh, the thought of befriending this slithering asshole is deplorable.

"If you agree to those terms, bite my neck."

He doesn't hesitate to sink his fangs into your throat. You're sure he's wanted to bite you until your body was littered in duo puncture marks. The guards are alarmed at your cry of pain and go to kneel beside you to see what was wrong. They both took notice of the black snake around your neck and bleeding wounds. They look at each other and then nod. "Don't move ma'am. We'll take care of the snake-"

"He's a pet! No need to draw your sword," you immediately explain to them. "Could I maybe get a rag to press against my wound?"

The guard on your right seems hesitant, but his fellow soldier nods in assurance. He leaves in search of a rag, while the guard on your left seems to get closer to you. He's probably keeping a closer eye on you until his partner returns.

Two new people enter the camp. One is clad in blue and white armor, hair a pure white color. The other in green armor with red accents, hair a natural brown. You try your hardest to listen to their conversation. So far, both new figures seem to be concerned for the well being of Nobunaga. They question him on how he managed to escape unscathed and soon the attention is turned towards you.

"This is my savior. Due to her lack of answering my inquiries about her person, I've placed her under custody until we return to Azuchi."

"That one, sitting by the fire?" the white-haired one gestured towards you. You gave him a wave with your tied hands. "What a slender thing, but appearances aren't everything. Shall I pry answers from her mouth?"

The threat of torture puts you both on edge. You more than Kuro as you would be the one subjected to it.

Nobunaga seems to notice your fear and revels in it. "Once we return home, if she refuses to explain herself again, I will leave her in your hands. For now, we prepare for our departure."

The white-haired one nods in understanding before sending a spine chilling grin towards you.

Note to self, watch out for that one.

The brown-haired one comes towards you. While he isn't as scary as the other one, his height makes up for it. He's nearly twice your height and taller than anyone in the camp. He glares down at you and says, "Whoever you are, if you have any plans to harm Lord Nobunaga, I will make you regret ever having such thoughts."

Threat after threat after threat. You were getting pretty fed up with it. You were about to give the man a piece of your mind when suddenly, Kuro lunges at him. His fangs were bared and spurted liquid out of his mouth. That wasn't a warning bite. It was an honest attempt to bite and kill.

"Kuro!" You scold him. "That's not going to help the situation!"

"A snake?! Why haven't you noticed and gotten rid of it?!" The green armored one questions your guards.

They stutter over themselves before you finally speak up in place of them. "He's my pet."

"Pet or not. Allowing such a dangerous animal around Lord Nobunaga is a risk I won't take."

He reaches down to his waist to unsheathe his sword. In your panic, you shot up on your feet and you kick him right in the diaphragm. His arms wrap around his stomach and he nearly falls to his knees over from the blow.

"The next person that points a sword at us, I'm going to hold you down myself and let him pump you full of venom!" you scream. Gods, were you so on edge that you were now threatening people?

Your suddenly thrown face first down onto the ground and pinned from behind. You turn your head to see who it was that had restrained you. It was the white-haired one. The empty barrel pointed at you keeps you still.

I smell gunpowder. That's a rifle no doubt. Father used to have one in the house in case wolves came by at night.

"Those things have a tendency to accidentally go off," you tell him.

He smiles down at you. "Indeed. You'll forgive me if it does, yes?"

Second note, I hate this guy.

Angered by his cockiness, you try to wiggle out of his hold, but it utterly fails. In fact, you actually help him get a better grip on you and make it harder for you to escape. Great job, you dumbass.

"What shall we do with the snake, my lord?" The one pinning you down asks Nobunaga.

He stood over your defenseless self and stared at you with indifference. "It is clearly a hazard, but it has yet to leave it's master side and only struck when it perceived her to be under an immediate threat. Leave it, but keep your distance."

"My Lord, that is too much of a risk. Removing the threat now would be the better option," the brown-haired one protested. Slightly bent over in pain from your hit.

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Hideyoshi," the white haired one says. "Even a moment of vulnerability on our part will result in her releasing it on us."

The one you hit is Hideyoshi. Noted.

Nobunaga smirks at him. "If you're so concerned, Mitsuhide, then I suggest you put your sharpshooter skills to good use and keep an eye on the damn thing. Now, if you're both done bickering, let us head out."

Mitsuhide didn't seem to like his new orders but answers with a practiced "yes sir", before helping you up to your feet. Without any more to say, you're escorted to an large crowd of horses and lifted onto a saddle. Mitsunari is your apparent rider and you quietly thank the heavens for your one saving grace.

"Sorry," you whisper, "I sort of made things worse for myself."

You feel him tense, immediately feeling bad for making him worry even more.

"Once we return to Azuchi, you'll be in a secure place and can speak your truth without fear of lingering ears," he tells you. The horse beneath you suddenly kinks into a speedy gallop and you hold onto him for dear life.

You travel for a few minutes before the steeds around you slow down into a complete stop. A man with an eye patch and blue and gold armor appears with another unit of soldiers. Perhaps he was back up? He sure is late though.

"Lord Nobunaga. I see you're unscathed," he says, a more casual hint in his voice.

"Physically, yes. But my pride has taken quite the hit. We're returning to Azuchi. Have your men follow."

"Damn, I guess I was too late to see some action," he answers disappointedly. He turns back towards his reinforcements and shouts, "You heard the man! It's back home for us!"

His soldiers all let out groans of equal disappointment. He laughs at their expense before maneuvering his horse to join with the rest of the retreat. It's when he and his men fully merge that he takes notice of you and your bound hands. "Who's the lass?" He shouts over to Hideyoshi.

"They're under suspicion for the assassination attempt tonight. She has a snake around her neck and it will strike if you get near."

"A woman with a snake, huh? I like you already. The name's Date Masamune. I hope we can get to know each other well."

First I get called a prostitute, then this asshole flirts with me while I'm tied up! So much for a relaxing vacation!

________________________________________________________________

Kennyo watches the retreat of the Oda alliance with rage. His chance to exact revenge was in the palm of his hand but had been slapped away in a mere instance. The rustling of bushes gains his attention and he turns to see Ranmaru knelt before him, sweaty and disheveled. He's now porting a gash across his normally pristine face. "Are you alright? We need to tend to that wound to prevent it from becoming infected. It'll likely scar."

Ranmaru is on the verge of tears. "Master Kennyo, I failed you. All our efforts to eliminate the head of the Oda have gone to waste because of-"

The monk shushes him. "You've done well, Ranmaru. You've demonstrated how well the devil king trusts you. That alone is enough to be the cause of their undoing."

Ranmaru flinches at the mention of the word "trust." Kennyo turns back to look at the retreating forces once more. He turned back just in time to see that the they had a prisoner in their midst. He becomes even more enraged once he realizes that it was a woman.

"They would go so far as to blame a woman for the fire and hold her captive. The Oda couldn't stoop any lower than they have now."

Kennyo begins to walk away into the darkness of the forest. He gestures for the boy to follow, and he does so without hesitation.

________________________________________________________________

Another set of eyes watch the retreat of the Oda alliance from the sidelines.

"How disappointing. Though perhaps this is a blessing in disguise," Kenshin, initially unhappy seeing Nobunaga escape unharmed, immediately perks up at his own thoughts. "I still have an opportunity to drag the devil king out to battle and strike him down myself."

Shingen shakes his head in disbelief. Although he was frustrated as the rest, seeing the Oda pull out victorious and without a single loss, hearing Kenshin retain his bloodlust was reassuring. "He truly earned the title of devil king. Only a demon could have such twisted luck on his side."

"Lord Shingen," Yukimura suddenly notices an unfamiliar figure among the retreating forces, "look at who is riding with Mitsunari Ishida."

Shingen searches out for the familiar tuff of grey hair. He was in a bad mood, but now he's pissed. That was a woman, bound by the wrist the same way a criminal would be. "Unforgivable," is all the Tiger of Kai could growl out.

"Yes," Yoshimoto nods in agreement with his cousin, "Such a small thing. She must be scared to death."

Kenshin doesn't make any comment at the revelation, but he notices the panic that overtakes Sasuke's face upon hearing that a woman had been taken prisoner.

"I've grown bored. Let us return to Echigo and reconvene another day."

Kenshin doesn't wait for an answer. He turns away and the rest of his allies follow without a word. "Sasuke," Kenshin calls out to his ninja who had yet to move from his spot, "Do not keep me waiting."

He snaps out of this train of thought before following along. "Yes, my Lord."

________________________________________________________________

You had remained quiet the entire trip. A few people called your name, but you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even acknowledge whoever was speaking to you. You failed to realize that night had turned into morning. Your surroundings had changed from foliage into a massive fortress-like castle.

Kuro paid attention to your surroundings in your stead. Anyone that had gotten even a little close was hissed at and had transparent venom spat at them. Even Mitsunari, your one and only ally as of now, was not spared of the serpents radar.

You finally speak your first words after hours of silence. "If you keep threatening every man that so much as looks in my direction, I might start to believe you actually liked me all this time."

You're once again bitten, this time on the back of your hand. Blood quickly pools in the twin punctures before rolling down and staining your skin.

Mitsuhide had witnessed the snake sink its fangs into you. "Oh my, such a temperamental pet. Are you sure you have it under control?"

You roll your eyes. "Of course I do. Hey, Kuro," you look down to him. "If things turn ugly, pump me full of whatever you got left."

The snake nods, pleased at the privilege you've given it. Mitsuhide narrows his eyes at you, concerned over your order. You make sure to pat Kuro's scaly head while maintaining eye contact with him.

The entourage heads towards the stable. Stable hands awaited their return and began to board and tend to each steed. Mitsunari eventually dismounts and offers his hand for you to take. You gratefully accept his gesture and he helps steady you on the ground.

"How are your hands? If they feel sore I'll redo my bindings," he offers.

You shake your head. "I'm alright. What's going to happen to me now?"

"Lord Nobunaga requested an immediate council upon his return. It will likely be about the events that took place at Honno-ji and will take some time to inform and gather everyone needed. Until then, you...you will be…"

You didn't rush him. He was clearly having a hard time trying to muster up the courage to tell you what will happen to you until the meeting. You already have an idea what it would entail.

"You will be held in a prison cell until your fate is determined."

There it is.

"Will Kuro be allowed to stay with me?"

He nods. "Hideyoshi requested that the snake remain on your person at all times and visible. I hope his request isn't too unreasonable."

"If it puts the people here at ease then I can live with it. I'd feel safe having him close by anyways, so I'm quite thankful he didn't call in some expert snake hunter or something."

Mitsunari smiles at your words. "Even when the odds are against you, you find the positive within. You are truly admirable, my lady."

You return the smile. "Thank you, but I'm sure I told you before not to be so formal!"

"Very well. I agree with the condition that you address me with familiarity too. Is that alright?"

You nod and, for a brief moment, you forget that you were technically still a prisoner.

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#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen series #otome #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikemen sengoku writing #ao3 fanfic #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #writing #fanfic: warmth #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

[stephissalty]

the chances are getting lower

Pairing: Iwaoi

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Words: 1700

Summary: "And although there’s the 80% - wait, maybe 70% - chance that Oikawa probably doesn’t like him back, Iwaizumi can’t stop himself from thinking how pretty he looks like this. He briefly wonders if you could consider this a date. He also thinks that the chance Oikawa doesn’t like him back might be closer to 60%."

AO3

the chances are getting lower

It’s summer when Iwaizumi has a life-shattering realization. Honestly, it really shouldn’t shock him that much. Maybe he’s just dense - that’s probably it.

He likes Oikawa.

He really likes Oikawa.

This realization doesn’t scare Iwaizumi as much as it had ought to, but he files it away as something to deal with later. Iwaizumi is about 80% sure his best friend doesn’t feel the same way, but when he’s being dragged through crowded festival grounds by said best friend isn’t the time to be debating the state of his world.

Oikawa has a tight grip on the sleeve of Iwaizumi’s hoodie and is in the process of tugging him along. He hasn’t said anything about their destination, but Iwaizumi knows better than to ask. So, without questioning, he follows his friend through crowds of people. They pass a row of games they’d played an hour or so ago (Iwaizumi had won a small alien plush for Oikawa and Oikawa won a cat plush for him), and then go through the line of food trucks, where the population density is highest.

Finally, they break out of the crowd. Oikawa turns around, his eyes shining as they reflect neon lights from all around them. “The fireworks are going to start in a few minutes, Iwa-chan!” And then he pulls Iwaizumi past further from the festival, to an open field. Several couples and friend groups had already settled in the grass. 

They find a spot away from other people and sit in the grass. Iwaizumi stretches out his legs and leans his weight back on his palms. He briefly considers that, if his theory is correct, it’s like an invitation. It’s an invitation that Oikawa gladly takes. He rests his head on Iwaizumi’s thighs, laying perpendicular to him. Their eyes meet, and Oikawa’s eyes are bright as the expression on his face seems to ask is this okay?

It’s very okay.

And although there’s the 80% - wait, maybe 70% - chance that Oikawa probably doesn’t like him back, Iwaizumi can’t stop himself from thinking how pretty he looks like this. Pink and green lights from the festival behind them cast over his face, showing his light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks. His hair, although beautiful, is subject to gravity, and thus has fallen away from his face and is spread across one of Iwaizumi’s thighs. God, he’s beautiful.

Not wanting to think about any consequences, Iwaizumi smiles and gently cards one of his hands through Oikawa’s hair. The other relaxes against him and closes his eyes, content. 

They both startle when the first firework explodes in the sky.

Oikawa watches the show in amazement, but Iwaizumi watches Oikawa the whole time, just to see the joy on his face.

He briefly wonders if you could consider this a date.

He also thinks that the chance Oikawa doesn’t like him back might be closer to 60%.

Iwaizumi isn’t one to deny himself pleasures, as a general statement.

If he wants to eat, he’s going to eat. If he wants to watch a movie, he’s going to watch a movie. If he wants to look at a pretty boy, he’s going to look at a pretty boy.

The pretty boy looks back at him.

During practice, they’re playing a practice match, and somehow Iwaizumi ended up on a different team than Oikawa. Oikawa’s team is winning - but just by a little. They’ve been making eye contact the whole time, like you’d expect best friends to. But Iwaizumi rakes his eyes up and down his friend’s body, subtlety be damned,  and he looks the same way he always looks when he’s playing volleyball - fucking incredible. Iwaizumi vaguely registers that Oikawa’s up to serve, but his head is far from the game as he watches Oikawa’s hands twirl the ball. Those hands. Iwaizumi’s knees feel weak when he realizes how long he’s been staring, but he’s too far gone now, it’s too late for him, he’s already passed the point of no return -

And then there’s a hard impact to his jaw, and he’s staggering backward, and suddenly he’s on the ground. There’s some dull pain - in his face, on the back of his head, on his ass - but he’s definitely felt worse.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shouts as he ducks under the net and slides to a stop on his knees next to Iwaizumi. His eyes are filled with concern as he leans over Iwaizumi and cradles his jaw gently. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I -”

“Tooru, I’m fine,” he responds, voice hoarse. For a second he forgets their teammates are surrounding them, so he covers Oikawa’s hand with his own and smiles weakly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Damn, that serve hurt. 

“Oikawa, take him to the nurse to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion,” the coach yells.

Cliche? Trivago.

Oikawa’s arm around his waist and supporting a good portion of his weight, they make their way to the nurse’s office. “Iwa-chan, what happened? You’ve never just taken a serve to the face like that before.”

Iwaizumi stiffens. “I was distracted.” It’s not a lie.

“Be careful, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa orders, but his voice is soft with genuine concern.

“If I get knocked out, no one else will keep you in line. I’m not going anywhere.”

He misses the look that Oikawa gives him, full of adoration.

The percentage might be closer to 50%.

Oikawa is laying on Iwaizumi’s bed, calculus homework spread around him, and Iwaizumi’s eyes are glazing over from where he’s been staring at an essay at his desk for the last hour.

Iwaizumi picks up the stapled stack of papers - twelve pages long, double sided!!! - and pitches them across the room and groans in frustration. “I’m tired of this bullshit!”

“Aww, is Iwa-chan tired of literature analysis?” Oikawa teases, resting his head on his arms. 

“Yes,” he growls and goes to pick up the now-wrinkled papers. “I understand math, but this literature bullshit is driving me up the fucking wall.”

Oikawa pouts. “You want to do my calculus homework for me? If I see another integral, my brain may melt, and the team can’t stand to lose me.”

Iwaizumi regards one of Oikawa’s worksheets. “This really isn’t that bad. My class covered this last month. It’s just u-substitution to make your life easier. U-sub is your friend.”

“Look, you can say that all you want, but that doesn’t make the words make any more sense,” Oikawa complains. “This squiggle shit -”

“Integral.”

“- squiggle shit is bad enough, but now they’re throwing in inverse trig? My brain wasn’t built for math, Iwa-chan! It was built for volleyball!”

“I’ll do your calculus if you’ll do my literature.”

“Fucking deal.”

After trading homework, they finished their respective assignments in about twenty minutes, after which, they both laid down on Iwaizumi’s bed, Oikawa’s head on Iwaizumi’s stomach. 

“Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Thanks, Tooru.” He lightly runs his fingers through Oikawa’s soft hair as the other relaxes and purrs quietly under the touch. “Are you spending the night tonight?” It’s a Thursday night, but that’s never mattered to them.

“Sure, but I’m not moving,” Oikawa announces and grips onto Iwaizumi’s hand that’s laying by his side.

“...Alright.” Iwaizumi pauses his ministrations. “Do you want to watch a show before bed, though?”

“Ooh, can we watch that American cooking show?”

“Yeah, we can,” he laughs.

After a few minutes of shifting, they end up shoulder to shoulder with Iwaizumi’s laptop balancing on both of their legs. Oikawa drops his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder and grips his bicep. Then, he carefully entwines their fingers and squeezes gently.

Iwaizumi, heart pounding, looks down at his friend in surprise. He doesn’t know what to do from here, so he just goes along with it and sinks into Oikawa as he watches the terrible American show that Oikawa has taken a liking to. 

He’s thinking that the percentage might not be 50%, but maybe closer to 30% when Oikawa pulls their conjoined hands up to his own mouth and kisses them.

Iwaizumi’s fairly certain that, in that moment, his heart stopped. “Tooru?” he whispers, not wanting to break the magical moment, but too scared to let it go unrecognized.

“Iwa-chan?”

20%.

“What are you doing?” The contestant on screen is crying over ruining his potatoes.

“Do you not know?”

10%.

“Know what?”

Oikawa lifts his head and focuses all of his attention on Iwaizumi. “I like you a lot. I think you probably feel the same, don’t you, Hajime?” Inhale. Exhale. “I really hope you do, anyways, or else this is going to get weird,” he laughs nervously.”

Iwaizumi smiles softly. “Of course I like you too. How could I not?”

“That’s exactly what I was figuring,” Oikawa says cheekily. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of a proper response, Iwaizumi brushes their lips together, gently at first and then more firmly. Oikawa responds immediately, kissing back with fervor and dragging a hand into Iwaizumi’s hair. 

Iwaizumi pulls back suddenly. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.”

Oikawa reclaims his lips in a searing open-mouthed kiss that has his entire body writhing and wanting more, more, more. Iwaizumi moans quietly into his mouth and nips gently at Oikawa’s lower lip, drawing a beautiful, breathy moan out of the other. 

The laptop on Iwaizumi’s lap is long forgotten as Oikawa climbs into his lap and presses their bodies closer together. Everything is so hot as they pant into each others’ mouths. Oikawa works his way down Iwaizumi’s neck, kissing firmly but careful not to leave any marks. Iwaizumi inhales sharply and presses his hips upward, seeking some friction. 

“Fuck,” he swears as their hips collide. The indirect contact alone feels so, so good. He tugs on Oikawa’s hair mostly out of desperation, bringing him back up to his mouth. He connects them in another hot kiss as Oikawa grinds down.

And then, suddenly Oikawa disconnects their lips. “We should slow down just a bit, alright? I… I don’t want to be too hasty with you. You’re too important.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi responds and kisses him chastely. “Anything for you.”

Oikawa grins and snuggles into Iwaizumi’s chest. “I like you a lot, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m pretty damn fond of you, too, Tooru.” He kisses his hair.

“Good. Don’t let me go.”

“Not a chance.”

0%. 

#iwaoi #my writing #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #hq #hq fanfic #iwaoi fanfic #fluff #canon compliant #mutual pining #friends to lovers

[normal-thoughts-official]

Hey ever since u posted ur Maia x Raphael fic I've been hit with so much feelings for them so imagine my sadness when there's only your fic on ao3 that has them as a couple, also here on tumblr there's only 2 posts of them *insert sadangry emoji here*

you know what, I'm just gonna take this opportunity to

Why Maiaphael is a bomb af pairing that deserves all the love and content

A manifesto by me

Okay, so whenever i think of Maiaphael, i think of Taki's. Not (just) as the place, but as what it means for Maia, could mean for Raphael, and what that reveals about the both of them, and the absolute potential that a relationship between them has.

When Maia created Taki's, she had a very specific goal in mind: to create a place that could bring all kinds of downworlders together, where they could be safe and also build a real community together. This is explicitly said, and Maia's desire and even need to draw people together is mentioned many times, and arguably one of the core traits of her character.

She mentions how her relationship with Simon is important to her because it could bring werewolves and vampires together. She cares about and loves her pack, and wants to keep them together and safe.

Maia's been kicked out of her home, and survived abuse, not to mention she's black; she knows, better than anyone, the importance of having a strong, supportive community, and she works hard towards building one always. Taki's is a project that serves that purpose, while also allowing her to do what she loves (cooking, bartending, meeting new people).

On the last episode, they show Raphael at Taki's, talking to her, and look - we all know Raphael loves cooking, how much it means to him, and he has experience cooking for big crowds because of his volunteering. And the way that it fits is just.

First of all, we know that cooking serves pretty much that exact same purpose for Raphael. Cooking, for him, is about caring for others and bringing people closer together. This is shown by the fact that he made it a point to volunteer to cook for his sisters' elderly home, because he wanted to be able to give this to her; this is shown by the fact that when he fell in love with Izzy, the first thing he did was teach her how to cook his traditional dishes, which was clearly something very intimate and meaningful to him. This is shown by the fact that, once he's kicked out to Detroit, losing his Clan that is canonically like a family to him, he immediately started cooking at a shelter; it's a way for him to share his culture, history and feelings, and to bring people closer together, like at Taki's.

Family and community matter to Raphael as much as they do to Maia, that is very clearly what drives his character. And just the fact that he understands what Taki's is all about, what food is all about, makes Maia trust him to help her run the place. He's not only a great cook, he's someone who cares about the same things as she does, and who would pour their heart and soul into this project just like her, because he wants the same things out of it.

(Besides, doesn't hurt to have a werewolf and a vampire working together. That is half of the point, after all)

But also!!! This is so important to Raphael too, because, for so long, he's used cooking as a way to do something for others, and to repent. Food is a way to bring people together, but he does it in a way that leaves him at the sidelines. He excludes himself from the process, like he doesn't deserve the happiness it brings.

If Raphael started working at Taki's - that'd be different. Because he'd get to see the fruits of his work, to have a community he's a part of attend it, to be a part of this project. To enjoy the fruits of his labor, to see the results, to bring people together. To have a home.

I'm emo over Raphael and food again but anyway the point is that they could build such a great, trusting relationship as they worked together okay. From trying out new recipes to discussing decorations and even doing inventory, they have the same vision, they feel the same love, and they respect each other, fiercely. They're that kind of in sync where they work together without even having to look at each other, already knowing what they are doing. They handle the stress of running a restaurant together, and they enjoy it together, too.

And I'm just saying that it'd be so good for the both of them to have this kind of easy, trusting relationship? God knows Maia needs and deserves someone to trust, someone who wants her to achieve her best and get exactly what she dreams of, and Raphael needs someone as fiercely hardworking as Maia, who's willing to create the world she wants. He admires her, too, for how proactive she is, how she never gives up and does what's right. Maia admires how he can sometimes be the calm to her storm, how steadily he always steps and makes way to reach their goals. They complement each other, okay.

And speaking of complement I just gotta throw it out there that Maiaphael has huge sun/moon energy okay. In two different ways. Maia is fierce and joyful and beautiful and she shines and creates; Raphael is calm, and reliable, and through him her shine gains new, beautiful colors. Raphael is drawn to, and has been kept from, the sun. He loves it and basks in it and thrives under it. While the moon is usually associated with the sorrow of werewolves, but through Raphael, she reclaims it as part of herself.

But I can also see them the other way around - there's a melancholy about Maia, so much she hides and so much trauma she's been through, while there's a fierceness in Raphael, a neverending fight, and a room for that burning happiness that we got a glimpse of in the last episode that's been kept away. In that sense, he can also be the sun that shines through her, gives her his strength, and takes his place at the back, letting her do her own, breathtaking spectacle.

And how cool is that? They're complementary, but they're also complex, ever-changing, they rotate and create their own particular dynamic that allows them to find the best in so many sides of themselves. They can switch from one to the other when they're together, Maia can allow herself her slower, quieter days, and Raphael can find the strength to let himself shine bright, like he deserves. They get to be completely real with each other, to Contain Multitudes, and know that the other is just as vast and well equipped to support them in every role.

They're also both fiercely loyal and protective, and you know they'd do anything for each other, but they'd do it together. They'd do it side by side, not on each other's backs like we've seen so many times in the show with other couples. They'd build solutions with each other, not try to sacrifice themselves for each other. They have that kind of camraderie, and trust.

I mean, Raphael does have his self sacrificing tendencies when he gets in that mood (lmao) but that wouldn't fly with Maia. He'd try to solve a problem behind her back and she'd be furious, shove him, and tell him never to do that again, because she won't lose anyone else, and she won't have anyone trying to take the wheels of her life from her hands again. Anyone. No matter how well-intentioned. He doesn't get to decide this without her. He can't.

And Raphael apologizes, and wonder for a second how it never occured to him that he should just trust Maia to let him help her, when that's what they've been doing from the start.

And they're just so respectful of each other's boundaries in that way. Raphael knows not to try and take the lead from Maia, and he gives her space when she needs without her even needing to ask, and she does the same. She'd never pressure him to give her anything sexual, not even a single peck, and still be so undeniably affectionate. They would support each other without being overbearing, be able to allow each other their silence, their musings, their trauma and pain.

Raphael would also want fiercely for Maia to follow her dream of studying marine biology, I just know it, and support her through it in so many ways. Taking some of her responsibilities at Taki's when it's time for midterms. Helping her study. Going to hers with groceries, making sure she's eating, and drinking water, that her place is well ventilated and that she's okay. I have very soft images in my head of Maia sitting with her back to Raphael's chest, focused on her book, as he just strokes her hair, rubs her shoulders, and lets her study. It's good and nice and he is just there for her, silently helping make sure that she doesn't lack anything, that she can relax.

Also, as both of them are leaders of their people, there is so much they can share and understand about that, and even more beautiful things they can build together in that sense.

It's the kind of love that blossoms as steadily as their relationship, sure and deep and slow, with strong foundations, and infinite care. By the time they notice it's happened, they've already become an integral part not only of each other's life, but of each other's happiness. They come to care for each other, and trust each other, and be a part of each other, before they even realize what's happening. When the penny drops, it's almost funny, the both of them a little breathless by the fact that oh, they've fallen in love. And Maia asks, "what are we?" and Raphael says "something important," and Maia laughs and asks if that means he could be her boyfriend.

"Yeah," Raphael says, smiling, private but real and all for her, "yeah," and he takes her hand and kisses it. She kisses his hand back, and he's charmed, and happy, and their hands stay together over the table as they share nothing but joy and silence. The moment is steady and happy, just like them, and it feels perfect.

#MAIAPHAEL RIGHTS #sorry i absolutely lost any fucking semblance of chill #ask #cosmicnovia #luxxmagnus #sh #shadowhunters #maia roberts #raphael santiago #maiaphael #maphael #sh meta #raphael santiago meta #maia roberts meta #meta #idk idndkdm #sh ficlet #i guess #i made myself fucking emo bro #long post #like truly long i just mcfucking lost it #aaaa

[leisureleech767]

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[imagines-so-what-if]

How about them meeting their SO's family? In specific, their parents. Maybe it's a big messy family or they have very judgemental parents for whatever reason. Just make it interesting somehow! John included this time perhaps? Thank you

For asks, I’ll only do a three of max just so I won’t get overwhelmed. This will be for: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, James Moriarty.

I also went with a different family for each scenario, so hope you like! 

The prompt: Above

Genre: Gen

Rating: K+

John Watson

John has been through the dating process before. He knows what to expect when meeting parents, and how to act. 

That does not make it any less nerve wracking, though.

The two of you had been together for over a year, and normally he would have met your parents sooner, but between juggling Sherlock and work... 

But tonight was the night!

He was invited over for dinner to meet your family.

Your large, rambunctious, loud, unpredictable family.

But John Watson was a man with nerves of steel, and he prepared himself for one heck of a night trying to butter up to your parents and apologize for being so late to meet them.

He dressed well - business casual - and met you at your parents’ home.

He was immediately greeted by two children slamming into him in an attempt to run away from a third child. 

This was followed by the family dog jumping onto him, and completely knocking him to the ground.

Some men might have been flustered, but John only laughed, happily petting your sweet malamute. Your father and mother came out next, both laughing upon seeing John, but helping him up.

Once John had stood back up, he extended a hand out and said with an easy, charming smile, “Hello there. I’m Doctor John Watson, and I have had the absolute pleasure of falling in love with your daughter/son.”

Your family loved him.

Sherlock Headcanons

Uhh...

You loved Sherlock, you really did. You loved him more than anyone else in the world. You even loved his brother, like family, and you had an adoring friendship with Sherlock’s parents.

You were well and truly integrated into the Holmes family, enough so that Mrs. Holmes even began to nag her son about proposing to you soon. 

But in doing so, this brought up a question you had been dreading since dating Sherlock. 

“Your parents. When are we meeting them?” Sherlock asked you.

You choked on your tea, your stomach dropping. “U-Um. Y-You want to?”

“We’ve been together three years, and I have not met them. Why?”

You did not get along with your parents.

You did not get along with your parents at all.

Your parents were strict, overbearing, and controlling. High school was the single most stressful point in your life, because you worked tirelessly to win enough scholarships to afford to go to the school of your choice on your own.

Because you knew the moment you told your parents you were not becoming a doctor, or lawyer, or some other high-paying job... you were effectively useless to them.

And lo and behold, when you told them the truth your mother threw into such a fit you had to pack your things that night and leave. 

You hadn’t seen, or talked to them since.

The past couple of years you knew they had been trying to reach out to you. You’ve ignored every attempt, certain they would only try to control you once more. You fought so hard for your independence and freedom, and you would never give them the chance to have any say over you ever again.

But this wasn’t something you really liked to talk about. 

So you didn’t.

“I’m, um, I’m not speaking terms with them,” you admitted to your boyfriend. “They... do not approve of my choices in life.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment, studying your expressions. You fidgeted anxiously, wanting to move on from the topic.

“I know,” he said, “I met them two years ago.”

Your mouth dropped open. You were stunned. “What?”

“John and I happened across them during a case. We... talked. They’re very eager to hear from you again, and I understand they regret what has happened. John determined them to be honest, but I was more skeptical. I have spent the past two years studying them, and I can confidentially reassure you that they are indeed sincere. Now if I am to propose to you, I would prefer if I could at least properly have dinner with your parents with you there before doing so. I will ask again with better clarification: When would you like to have dinner with your parents?”

You stared at him in disbelief, and then a brilliant smile lit up on your face. “Sunday.”

He gave you that little crooked smile that was almost a smirk. “Sunday it is.” 

James Moriarty Headcanons

You were a private individual. Even when you had begun your relationship with James Moriarty, you were reluctant to share things about your past, or yourself. As the two of you grew closer over the years, you became more open to him.

But not completely.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, or any such thing. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, either, so much as...

You didn’t know how to bring up your past.

It was something kept so deeply buried. Your name had been changed as soon as you had turned eighteen, and nearly all records of your family - and of yourself - had been destroyed in a terrible fire before they could be digitalized. 

Growing up in a small country town meant people still remembered who you were, but since coming to London no one had come to learn about you.

No one except Moriarty.

And again, you weren’t intentionally hiding your past, so much as you just genuinely didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t even like thinking about it too much, because it was such a terrible, awful, scar. It stretched over your heart and made it ache every year on the anniversary of when your whole life changed.

You didn’t even realize how much you kept hidden from him until he asked you, “When do I meet your parents?”

“When do you want to?” you returned, feeling your chest tighten up.

“How about tomorrow?”

And so the next day the two of you left to return to your little home town. Moriarty seemed surprised to learn where you grew up, and how the town had deteriorated into almost nothing in the past decade since you had been there.

He was even more surprised when you had the car pull over to a run down, weed-filled plot of land.

You took his hand, your heart aching, and you guided him through the neglected land that was once your home. He walked beside you, silent, watchful, as he took everything in.

You brought him to where your house once stood, now only two grave stones.

He understood.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” you whispered to the stones. “This is my fiance, James Moriarty.”

Moriarty squeezed your hand once, and said to the stones, “Hello. It’s good to finally meet you both. Your daughter/son has been nothing but a sunrise in my life.”

The stones didn’t talk back, they never would, but Moriarty continued on. 

He chatted for another ten minutes to your parents. He talked about meeting you, how he fell in love with you, and what the two of you planned on for the wedding. 

And for the first time in too many years, you felt the ache in your chest ease.

The pain was beginning to dull.