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hyewka · 6 months

Note

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #beomgyu hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months

Text

lucky red bull driver (mv1)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic)

summary: george may have made a mistake when he introduced you to mercedes’ number one rival

notes: george is so dramatic in this, it’s great. i’ll probably write a part 2 to this

next part

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re sure there’s a clause somewhere in your contract that says you aren’t allowed to be doing what you’re doing, but you can’t help it.

Being hired as an assistant to Toto Wolff led you into the constant whirlwind of a life in Formula One. You’d gotten to learn a lot about the sport, and a lot about the Mercedes team.

Constantly being by the side of Toto Wolff had it’s perks. You got to travel the world, go to all of the Formula One races, meet and become close friends with Lewis Hamilton and George Russell. You were living the dream of many others.

Then he had to come in and ruin it. He ruined it with his pretty eyes, and his wide grin. He ruined it with his snarky comments, and soft praises. He was a hurricane storming in and you were trapped in the eye.

You could blame the whole thing on George, claim that it was his friendship to Max that had started your romantic endeavors with the Red Bull driver. Whenever Toto didn’t need your help, you were allowed to do whatever you liked, whether that be sightseeing or just relaxing. Recently though, you’d joined George on his paddle outings, which was where you had officially met Max.

George often played with some of the other drivers. Alex, Lando, and Max frequented the group. You had quickly become friends with the others, what with them being close in age to you, and their chaotic and amusing behavior when around one another.

This version of Max wasn’t the version you were used to seeing on the track. That version was serious, a scowl practically glued to his face. He’d gotten into verbal fights with some of the other drivers, George included. But this Max was different. He smiled a lot. He laughed when George and Alex would start bickering like an old married couple. He gave them all a pat on the back whether he won or lost the game.

It was during a game when you first spoke with the Dutch driver. He had tapped out, claiming he needed a break, and sent in someone else that had joined the group for the day. He sat on the bench next to you beside the court, watching the game unfold between the others.

He made quiet conversation with you, just about little things like how you were enjoying your job, your friendship with George. It had gotten to the point where you had stopped paying attention to the paddle game and gave Max your undivided attention.

That is, until a ball came hurtling towards you. You saw it out of the corner of your eye, lifting your arm up and turning your head away so that you wouldn’t get hit. But the ball never came in contact with your head, instead it hit Max’s paddle, which was being held up near your head.

“Watch where you hit the ball!” He shouted to the players on the court.

George looked sheepishly surprised as he jogged over to you. “Are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to hit it to you-”

“At her. You hit it at her.” Max corrected him.

“I’m sorry Y/n.” George apologized again.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

You take a walk with Max afterwards, looking to avoid anymore rouge paddle balls. The two of you refuse to talk about anything that has to do with Mercedes or Red Bull while you walk, knowing that if you did you’d be in serious trouble with your bosses. Instead you talk about your childhoods, about how the two of you actually started your careers in Formula One, and about things that interested you outside of the sport.

You were surprised to hear Max say that he didn’t really excel in any other activities. You were shocked that the three time world champion, the man who was at the top of his sport, admitted that driving was really all he was good at.

You laugh and shake your head as you return to the court. “I don’t believe that for a minute Max.”

“It’s true! Put me in a pool and I’ll drown. On a football field and I’ll fall on my ass more times than you can count.” He grins as you laugh.

“Y/n, ready to head back to the hotel?” George asks making his way over to the two of you. His eyes travel back and forth between you, watching as you’re standing so close to one another that your arms brush against each other.

You clear your throat and take a step away from Max, your eyes refusing to meet George’s. “Yeah, sure.” You turn back to Max. “It was nice talking with you.”

“You too. I hope we can do it again sometime.” He gives you a smile, then leaves you to join Lando.

When you look back at George he’s got his eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to say something. You don’t give him the satisfaction, instead walking back to his car.

You get in the passenger seat of his car silently as he throws his equipment in the backseat. When he gets into the drivers seat he sits quietly for a moment then breaks the silence with a slew of questions.

“Alright, what happened? What is going on with you and Max? Did you tell him anything about Mercedes? Did he tell you anything about Red Bull? Why does he want to see you again?”

You stop the waterfall of questions with a hand on his shoulder.

“We just took a walk. No, neither of us said anything about our teams. And I don’t know George, maybe he wants to see me again because he enjoyed my company.” You last sentence is laced with sarcasm.

George rolls his eyes. “Yes Y/n, you’re an absolute delight. You know Toto will have a conniption if he finds out you’re buddies with Max Verstappen.”

“Well we’re not, so there’s no reason to worry.” You shrug.

You like to believe you kept that up for a while, attempting to avoid the Red Bull areas of the paddock, and running the opposite direction when you saw the navy blue team kit headed your way, but it didn’t take long for you to give into the tugging feeling in your chest whenever you saw him.

Avoiding him turned into brief greetings when passing each other, which turned into longer conversations with each other, which turned into seeking the other out while at work.

There’s no denying what’s going on at this point. Race weekends consist of you sneaking into his hotel room to see him, sharing meals together, and falling asleep wrapped around each other in his bed.

You hide in empty corners and walkways to see each other, sharing rushed kisses and hushed words of affection.

If anyone saw you, with his blue polo, and your white one, chaos would ensue. That’s exactly what happened when you were caught. You were pressed between a wall and his body, your arms wrapped around his neck as his held onto your hips. One of your hands reaches up to tangle itself in his hair, knocking his cap off his head onto the ground.

Even though you’re quite literally wrapped up in him, you still manage to stay aware of your surroundings, listening for anyone who might pass by the dark walkway you currently occupy.

“No one is going to find us liefje.” Max murmurs against your lips. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head.” He teases you as his kisses start to trail down your neck.

His teeth scrape against your pulse point, causing a light gasp to escape you. You can feel Max smirking into your neck.

“And what if someone does find us? And they see me making out with a Red Bull driver? What will they say?” You lean your head back against the wall behind you.

“Lucky Red Bull driver?” He grins as he pulls away from your neck.

You scoff and hit his chest with your hand. He lets out a loud laugh, slightly stumbling back. You grab onto his shoulder pulling him back towards you and place a finger over his lips.

“Max! You need to be quiet!” You whisper to him.

He leans his forehead against yours as your hand drops from his lips. He looks down at your lips then back up into your eyes.

“I know how you can keep me quiet.” He dives back down to your lips and pressing you into the wall again.

In that moment you’re so consumed by him, by his kisses that become more and more heated, by his tongue that slips into your mouth, by his hands that keep a firm grip on your hips, that you fail to notice the sound of someone approaching.

“Oh god!” A voice rings out.

You’re quick to push the Dutch driver off of you, looking towards where the voice had come from.

George stands about three meters away from you, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open. His eyes go back and forth between you and Max, who stands next to you, running a hand through his hair.

It’s almost as if the three of you are having a stare down. You’re all searching for the right words to say, but no one can find them.

You take a slow step towards George with a hand lifted in front of you, almost like you’re trying not to scare off an animal.

“George-” you start softly, but that’s all it takes for an endless stream of words to come flowing for the Brit’s mouth.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You and him?” He points accusingly at Max. “Fucking Max Verstappen? Do you know how bad this is? Toto’s going to kill you!” He points at you now. “He’s going to kill you, then he’s going to kill you!” He points at Max again. “Then he’s going to kill me!” He arm drops back down. “Oh god, we’re all dead!”

You take a few quick steps to stand in front of George, placing your hands on his arms. “No, no one’s going to die, because Toto isn’t going to find out.”

“Because if you tell him I will push you off track.” Max says.

You turn to give him a stern look, then look back at George.

“George, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Y/n…” he groans.

“Please George, please don’t tell anyone.” You beg him.

He glances back at Max who’s picked up his hat from the ground and now adjusts it back on his head.

“You really like him? Like you two are together?” George asks looking back at you.

“I mean…” You turn to face Max. You were far too busy sneaking around to actually put a label on what you were.

Max shrugs. “She’s my girlfriend.”

George sighs shaking his head. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t you have just dated Lando? Or Charles?”

“Because I like Max, not Lando, and not Charles. Besides, you’re the one who introduced us.”

George groans covering his face with his hands. “I’m dead. I’m gonna be out of a job and dead.”

Not much changes after George finds out. It’s difficult to get him to keep his cool at first, but quickly adjusts to keeping this secret hidden away.

To others he seems closer to Max, the pair occasionally walking together, talking to each other in hushed tones. What was once just an acquaintanceship has seemingly turned into a close friendship.

George, only after being what some may call threatened by Max, now helps you sneak around with the Red Bull driver. He makes up excuses as to why Toto can’t find you while you’re in Max’s driver’s room. He offers to roadtrip with you from track to track so that you can travel with Max.

Everything goes smoothly for a while, until a few photos circulate Twitter.

You and Max were very careful about where you met up. It was usually somewhere secluded, somewhere that others wouldn’t find you or wouldn’t be able to see you.

You really enjoyed being with Max, but the hiding was starting to take a toll on the both of you. You wanted to be able to walk into the paddock hand in hand, and he wanted to be able to sweep you into his arms after winning a race.

It was nearing the day that would mark 4 months with each other, so Max had begged you to do something special. He just wanted to take you out. He promised he would make sure that everything was quiet and no one would catch you.

After reluctantly agreeing Max had called up your favorite restaurant. He paid to make sure the two of you would be the only ones dining there, and that you would have access to any back doors to get in and out.

Surprisingly dinner went off without a hitch. The restaurant was empty when you arrived, allowing you and Max to have a quiet romantic evening with each other somewhere other than between the walls of either of your apartments. You spent the nights smiling and laughing with each other, occasionally stealing food off the other’s plate.

You left the restaurant and headed back to his apartment with your takeout boxes. You spent the night there with Max, cuddled up into his chest as you let sleep overtake you.

The next morning you woke up still pressed against Max. Usually he would stay in bed, stroking your back or your hair softly until you woke up, but now he was sitting up looking at his phone.

His eyebrows were furrowed and a scowl rested on his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask, slowly sitting up.

“I’m sorry liefje…” He hands his phone to you.

He’s got Twitter open, and on it are a few photos. There’s one of you smiling up at Max. You can’t really tell that it’s Max, just a guy in a white shirt. Then one of you kissing the same guy. Then the last is one where you can clearly see Max, his face now turned towards the camera.

Someone took these photos as you were leaving the restaurant. Clearly someone had informed paparazzi that you would be there, sneaking in and out together.

You can feel your heartbeat speed up in your chest. You give Max his phone back and reach over for yours.

You’ve also got a slew of Twitter notifications, as well as a few texts from George.

Are you alright?

I don’t know how the hell that happened.

I’m here if you need me. Either of you.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. You can feel tears start to well up in your eyes, already picturing what’s going to happen next. You could lose your job, you could be forced to end your relationship with Max, you could be sued for potentially giving Red Bull classified information.

Max sees your eyes become glassy and immediately pulls you into his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/n.” He lets you cry into his chest. “It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Once you’ve finally got your breathing back to normal you slowly pull away from Max. He gives you a soft smile, then softly kisses you. He kisses you once, then twice, then a third time, until you finally return a smile to him.

You lay with him quietly for a few minutes until you hear you phone buzz.

Your screen lights up with a text notification from Toto.

We need to talk. Thursday, 4 o’clock, my office. Bring Verstappen.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one x reader #formula one #mv33 x reader #mv33

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deunmiu-dessie · 1 month

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ⅵ▬ ⁽ 𝓋𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₄˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, cringey, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, vampire/human, unprotected sex, creampie, whiny vampire, overstimulation, spit kink, sloppy kisses, aphrodisiac, blood, dubcon, reader is lowkey at fault but not at the same time. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : ya'll this is so rushed, m'sorry-- i rlly just wanted to get this out, probably won't be as good as the others but enjoy.

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: home for winter break, you find yourself with the house to yourself, right?

꒰subby male!vampire ₊⊹ dom afab!reader꒱

“ Thanks, Jaime, I’ll see you later. ”

𝒜fter bidding farewell to your best friend, you stand there, gazing at the car as it swiftly disappears into the night. With your trusty suitcase in tow, you make your way up the dimly lit driveway, carefully sifting through your bag in search of the elusive house key. A sense of relief washed over you as your fingers finally closed around the icy touch of the silver key. Clutching it firmly, you navigate the treacherous icy surface, mindful of each step to avoid any slips or falls.

Finally making it to the porch stairs, you exerted all your strength to hoist your suitcase up the steps, narrowly avoiding a couple of near-slips along the way. With a sigh of relief, you conquered the last stair, feeling a surge of triumph as you stepped onto the snow-free porch. With ease, you maneuvered your luggage towards the door, unfurling your hand to use the key. It takes a few attempts, but you eventually manage to insert it into the lock and turn the doorknob.

As you enter the house, darkness envelopes you, with not a single light illuminating the space. However, the comforting warmth enveloping the space indicated that your mother had considerately left the heating on for your arrival. Leaving your suitcase by the entrance, you closed the door and secured it with a lock.

As you flick the switch, the overhead ceiling light floods the living room with its warm glow, casting away the shadows that had shrouded the space. Eagerly, you venture further into the house, calling out for your siblings who were supposed to be there to welcome you home. However, the silence that greets you is deafening, and the absence of any movement from the game room basement or upstairs is disconcerting.

With a sigh, you kick off your shoes and settle down, making yourself comfortable in the unfamiliar solitude. Unlike your siblings, who seem to constantly rely on your mother's support without contributing much themselves, you have always been driven and focused on your education. Your hard work paid off, as you graduated high school with an impressive GPA and secured a spot in your dream college. Now, during winter break, you find yourself back in the comfort of your childhood home, enjoying a well-deserved respite from your academic endeavors.

The urge to change overwhelms you, especially with the discomfort of your clothes clinging too tightly and irritating your skin. With each step towards the staircase, you flick on every light switch within reach, flooding the house with light. You silently prayed that none of your siblings had invaded your personal space while you were away, either napping or snacking.

The creaky ascent up the stairs quickened your heartbeat, the loud squeaks echoing through the otherwise quiet house. A sense of unease washed over you, unsure of who might be lurking around. Finally reaching the top, you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing your room to the left.

Astonishingly, the room appears exactly as you had left it, save for a few garments strewn about, most likely belonging to your sister. Other than that, everything seems to be in order. Closing the door behind you, you proceed to delve into your drawers, hastily extracting an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

In a swift motion, you discard your jeans and let out a grunt as you struggle to remove the turtleneck that has somehow become entangled around your head. Finally freeing yourself from its clutches, you toss it aside with a frustrated huff, swiftly replacing it with the shorts and shirt you had chosen.

A sudden pang of pain and the rumbling noise emanating from your stomach causes you to grimace, prompting you to clutch your abdomen tightly; evidently, you were famished. Your plans of drifting off to sleep were quickly dashed as you reached for your phone and descended the stairs.

Unsure of the fridge's contents, you toyed with the idea of ordering food through DoorDash. Fortunately, to your relief and your wallet's delight, a couple of chicken breasts and broccoli were found in the freezer. Taking the frozen items, you hesitated at the thought of waiting for them to thaw. Without delay, you knelt down and retrieved a silver mixing bowl from the nearest cabinet.

You get up with a groan, muttering to yourself that you’re getting old. As you twist the faucet handle, you wait for the water to run hot, capable of scalding your skin upon contact. Placing a bowl beneath the gushing stream, you watch as it gradually fills up, before finally turning off the flow and submerging the chicken and broccoli within its liquid confines. Although it would require some time, it was certainly preferable to enduring hours of waiting for the ingredients to thaw.

Finding yourself in the living room, you idly scroll through the vast expanse of social media, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom engulfing your very being. Your attention is not truly captivated by the screen of your phone; instead, your mind wanders aimlessly, causing your vision to blur as a whirlwind of thoughts race through the corridors of your consciousness. Your mind is practically blank, lost in a daze.

A sudden sound from the basement catches your attention, causing your ears to twitch and tingle. You snap back to reality, leaping off the couch in a heartbeat. The recent reports of vampires breaching human borders and the rising death toll flood your mind.

The Creatures of the Night, or maybe even Leeches, as they were sometimes referred to- didn't bother you all that much. They were just a tad different from the general population and usually didn't target humans— except for the rare cases highlighted in the news. You had never encountered one personally, but you weren't about to form an opinion based on how the media depicted them as monstrous beings.

Before you know it, your internal monologue has whisked you away from the sounds in the basement, the thought completely vanishing from your mind. You slowly make your way back to the kitchen, dragging your feet with each step. To your surprise, the chicken is already thawed when you inspect it, bringing a smile to your face as you remove it from the now lukewarm water.

While you may not be a master chef, you can still whip up a decent bowl of cereal or a tasty peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The concept of cooking has always been a bit intimidating for you, but the Air Fryer in front of you is a game-changer.

You carefully line the inside with foil, place your seasoned chicken inside, add a dollop of butter, and close the lid before hitting start. As the chicken cooks, you decide to skip heating up your broccoli for now. A sudden chill makes you shiver, causing you to furrow your brows as the cool breeze brushes against your exposed legs.

A sudden blast of icy wind makes you shudder and you instinctively turn around in search of its source. Your heart skips a beat as you catch sight of the slightly ajar back door, allowing delicate flakes of snow to sneak their way inside the cozy home. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm your racing thoughts, considering the possibility that your mischievous siblings might be behind this chilling surprise, as they often are.

You list off their names, telling them that you’re not in the mood for whatever game they’re playing, and then add that if they want something to eat, then come to the kitchen. However, to your dismay, there is no sign of movement or even a faint giggle, which sends a wave of unease coursing through your veins. The absence of their usual inability to keep quiet when plotting a prank fills you with a sense of foreboding.

As you stand there, your body tenses up, your muscles rigid and your palms sweaty. Reacting swiftly, you reach for a knife from the drawer, gripping it tightly until your knuckles ache. With cautious steps, you make your way towards the basement stairs, carefully descending the first four steps and finally reaching the landing where you promptly shut the door.

The frigid cold that once assaulted your skin is now left behind, but before you can proceed any further, an unsettling wetness seeps into your sock – warm and thick. Instantly, you freeze in place, pressing yourself against the wall for support, and slowly lift your foot to investigate. A wave of revulsion washes over you as you discover a bloodstain on your lilac-colored sock. Overcome with disgust, you swiftly remove the tainted sock and discard it.

As you descend the basement stairs, your eyes fixate on the blood trail that stretches all the way down, staining the carpeted flooring. A lump forms in your throat, causing you to swallow heavily, as you carefully navigate your way down, avoiding the blood.

The basement is not completely devoid of light, thanks to the LED lights left on by one of your siblings, but the crimson hue they emit adds an unsettling aura to the eerie atmosphere. The knife in your hand feels slippery, the perspiration on your palm evident against the black handle. Swiftly switching hands, you finally step onto the carpeted surface. In front of you lies a disheveled basement, with clothes strewn haphazardly and gaming consoles still powered on, emitting warm air.

No one is there, you can’t see anyone. Your mind drifts away, causing your eyes to lose focus and your senses to become more acute. Suddenly, a sound breaks the silence - the sound of labored breathing and faint, barely audible whimpers. Your attention is immediately drawn to a dark object on the floor, which you had mistaken for a bean bag chair.

Against your better judgment, you begin to cautiously approach the injured person. They’re obviously injured, and badly so. Without even realizing it, you release your tight hold on your weapon. Slowly, you lower yourself onto the carpeted floor and start crawling towards them.

The person appears disoriented, with their head swaying from side to side and their hand resting loosely on their injury. You carefully set your knife aside and move closer until you can hear their breathing clearly without any difficulty. Your hands automatically reach out towards their face, softly resting on their cheeks.

As you carefully tilt their head upwards, you find yourself staring at a pair of wispy lashes, set in a devilishly attractive face with pale skin. The sight of fangs delicately touching his full bottom lip doesn't escape your notice. Fear is not your immediate reaction, though there's a hint of it lingering in the background, it doesn't overpower your growing fascination with the scene unfolding before you.

With your left still hand resting on his cheek, your other hand moves down his body, and you suddenly gasp as you feel the presence of a large stake piercing through his stomach. How could you have missed such a significant detail earlier? Nevertheless, you choose not to dwell on it any further.

After careful consideration, it became evident that his current predicament could be attributed to a group known as the Hunters. These individuals, predominantly middle-aged men, harbored an irrational aversion towards coexisting with Vampires. Their actions were nothing short of despicable, as they embarked on a merciless killing spree, sparing no one, not even innocent children; they were sick bastards.

Despite your firm pat on his cheek, he stays incoherent, lost in a world of pain, you're sure. Although filled with trepidation, you understand that it's necessary to remove the stake, it isn’t doing him any good to keep it inside. With a surge of determination, you grasp the wooden object and swiftly extract it, allowing it to drop onto the floor, quickly placing your free hand against his wound. Tenderly, you caress his cheek with your thumb, providing solace as he emits a loud groan and breathes heavily. "It's alright, shh."

The sensation of his blood gushing past your fingers sends a chilling shiver down your spine, as it saturates the carpet beneath you without any signs of slowing either. A momentary wave of panic washes over you, prompting you to swiftly retract your hand and grasp the knife nearby. Trembling with fear, you bring the blade up to your neck, carefully making a shallow incision, the slippery blade adding to your unease.

Despite the struggle, you manage to pull his body closer to yours, your right hand, stained with blood, finding the back of his head and guiding it towards the column of your neck. It takes a moment, but eventually, he stirs, his lips parting and his tongue darting out to taste the crimson liquid trickling down your shoulder.

A shiver runs through your entire being, and you attempt to calm yourself. The warmth of his tongue against your skin is a soothing sensation as it leisurely glides over you, diligently lapping up the spilled blood. Your body tenses as his fangs graze your flesh before finally piercing it, yet surprisingly, there is no pain, only a mild discomfort that quickly dissipates.

You jolt when he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you closer to his body, his face nuzzled against your neck. You find yourself gripping his hair, fingers intertwined in his tresses. Time seems to stretch on endlessly as he continues to drink from you, leaving you feeling lightheaded. When you manage to break free from his hold, he surprisingly allows you to step back, though he keeps a firm grasp on your slumped body.

As you gaze at him you notice your blood adorns his lips like a peculiar shade of lipstick, and the sight of his tongue darting out to taste it causes the bite mark to throb, sending delightful tingles coursing through your entire body. Despite the gentleness with which he holds you, his verdant eyes are filled with unadulterated horror and fear.

You steal a quick glance at his wound, only to find that the bleeding has ceased completely, suggesting that the injury is already healing itself. Swiftly, he rises from the floor, effortlessly lifting you in his arms and laying you on the basement couch.

Your body quivers and becomes drenched in sweat, gradually sinking into the softness of the couch. What kind of bizarre scenario is unfolding here? You want to reassure this stranger that you're okay, even though he almost drank you dry. Perhaps it's the genuine concern and remorse in his eyes, but as soon as you hear his voice, you find yourself forgiving him effortlessly. His voice is gentle, and sweet. As the LED lights gradually fade from your vision, so does the presence of the vampire intruder.

You awaken to find yourself disoriented, unsure of how much time has passed. As you regain some form of consciousness, you notice the vampire boy beside you, his green eyes bright and attentive. His cheeks and eyes are red from crying and rubbing the tears away, you notice. His lashes are wet as well, his lips pouty and his knees tucked underneath himself. The red glow of the LEDs cast an eerie light on the scene, illuminating his features as you turn to face him, watching as he perks up.

“ You’re awake! ”

You remain silent, feeling the stiffness in your neck and the overwhelming urge to return to sleep. However, he prevents that from happening by placing his hand on your thigh, gently prodding you to wake up. Reluctantly, you open your eyes, questioning why you are so composed in such a strange scenario. As you reach up to touch your neck, you recoil at the two, very deep holes left in your skin.

Blushing furiously, the vampire boy fidgeted with his fingers, his eyes avoiding direct contact with yours. "M'sorry, didn't mean to-- really." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. After a brief pause, he mustered the courage to meet your steady, stoic, and sleepy stare, his ears now tinged with a rosy hue. "I-I can make it go away if you want? My saliva has healing properties, b-but it's also, um--." The boy's voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words, too flustered to realize that you had tuned out his words completely.

Upon returning his attention to you, he offers yet another apology, his voice cute and soft. Feeling too weary to reply and not particularly inclined to elaborate on the injury to your loved ones, you emit a grunt of agreement towards his proposition. Although this turn of events was somewhat underwhelming compared to your initial expectations, you chose not to voice any grievances.

"My name is Elias, by the way," he reveals abruptly, his bottom lip finding refuge in his mouth as a sign of his nervousness. With wide green eyes, he hastily scans your face, his heart skipping a beat as your gaze meets his, seemingly uninterested. This lack of enthusiasm from you triggers a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, creating a whirlwind of emotions within him. You emit a soft hum and tilt your head slightly. He looks worried for a moment, but then, he leans in, resting his head in the curve of your neck, his warm tongue gliding smoothly across your skin like silk.

The sensation of your skin repairing itself is undeniably peculiar, and it's not something you'd willingly want to go through again. He pulls away slowly, swallowing nervously. "H-how do you feel?" Your eyes meet his, and a faint smile graces your lips, though it appears drowsy and unsteady, it still manages to make his cheeks blush. "I feel fine." The sound of your voice causes his breath to catch, it's both gentle and resolute, igniting a warmth that spreads through his chest.

A searing heat rises from underneath your skin, causing a scorching sensation to travel from your calves to your thighs, you can't help but furrow your eyebrows in response. The calmness that enveloped your heart mere moments ago is now replaced by a thunderous pounding, almost reaching a level of pain, within your ribcage.

Elias gazes anxiously as your skin becomes shiny with sweat, your lips parting to release warm, shallow breaths. Your face is flushed with warmth and a twitch starts in your eyebrows. The blonde sniffles and dabs at your forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, frowning softly. "M'sorry, I-I told you that this would happen." His tone carries a hint of accusation, but your sharp, unfocused stare prompts him to apologize softly. "Didn't want this to happen, sorry." You brush his hand from your face and let out a shuddering breath, your breast tender and achy. "Shh, you're so loud. What the hell is happening?"

The vampire with blonde hair appears momentarily perplexed, but then his attractive green eyes gradually widen, displaying a look of regret. "My saliva can heal people, but it also acts as a... s-stimulant," Elias swallows thickly as you sit up slowly, your shirt becoming sheer from the copious amount of sweat you're drenched in. ".. an aphrodisiac."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You rasp, allowing your head to rest heavily on the couch cushions. Elias pouts, tears stinging his eyes. "I did! It's your fault for not listening!" Tilting your head, your face contorts with anger, causing Elias to tightly squeeze his thighs together. "Huh? My fault?" Your words taper off slowly before you let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

Leaning in, you grasp his cheeks firmly, pulling him closer until your breaths intermingle, feeling a shiver run through you as he places his hands on your thighs for support, his cheeks flushed with color. "Regardless, you'll help me, won't you?"

Before he can question what you mean, he lets out a yelp when you pounce on him, lips pressing against his in haste. He lets out a soft whimper, gripping onto your shirt tightly, surrendering to your dominance. Elias savors the flavor of your kiss, finding it both sweet and familiar. You are completely in charge of this encounter, dominating him with your mouth effortlessly. Your tongue sliding against his own in a violent dance, your saliva is as sweet as your blood and pools down his cheeks. You are absolutely captivating.

With a gentle pull, you withdraw, your eyes hooded and your lips swollen, causing a flush to spread across his face. He lies there, surrendering to your touch, as your hands caress his body. A breathy, hiccuping moan escapes his lips when you firmly grasp him through his pants, while your mouth explores his neck, kissing and sucking on his pale skin. It seems effortless for you to mark him as your own.

"W-wait, you're not thinki-" In a moment of hesitation, he halts his words, captivated by the sight of you retreating, gracefully slipping the oversized shirt over your head— breast spilling out from the cotton. The vampire lies there, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his face adorned with a cute expression. Unable to resist, you lean down and kiss him silly again. You love the way he eagerly searches for your lips, moaning into your mouth and clenching his eyes shut.

Lost in the fog of your drugged state, you clumsily distance yourself from him, regaining your balance and enticingly sliding your shorts down your legs, with your panties obediently following suit. The vampire stares at you with pure awe in his eyes, begging for you to do something to him.

By now, he’s slightly sat up, looking up at you with expecting eyes. You nonchalantly approach him, barely able to contain your laughter as he attempts to guide you onto his lap. You proceed until you reach his craned neck. You confidently straddle his face, sensually lowering your dripping cunt onto his parted lips.

You run your fingers through his tousled blonde locks, gazing deeply into his eyes. With a condescending tilt of your head, you tighten your hold. "You'll behave for me, won't you? You can manage that, especially after what you did to me." Elias whimpers against your pussy at your accusation and nods eagerly with wide, teary eyes and flushed ears. Your pleased smile makes his cock throb within his pants and he instinctively squeezes his thighs together once more.

The vampire eagerly laps at your pussy, moaning at how good you taste on his tongue, his free hand gliding up your legs to settle on your hips softly. He adores the way your fingers entwine in his hair, gripping tightly, as your hips sway and gyrate against his mouth. You’re using him like he’s a toy, seemingly unconcerned about the possibility of causing him pain ( which you aren’t. )

The intoxicating sound of your moans fills the air, a tantalizing melody that captivates him completely. They aren't high-pitched or forced, but a velvety resonance, deep and alluring. The occasional hitch in your breath and the graceful tilt of your head let him know that he’s doing good.

As he takes your puffy clit into his mouth, a fang gently scrapes over your, the potent aphrodisiac intensifying the already heightened sensitivity. Elias whines as you cum, his mouth and chin drenched in your release. With quivering thighs you press against his tongue, grinding against it with increasing urgency, while a soft mewl escapes your lips, your pussy fluttering against his eager mouth.

With shaky legs you wiggle off of him, straddling his waist and claiming his lips in a sloppy kiss, groaning at the sweet, musky taste of your arousal on his tongue. Elias' cock throbs. It's thick and hard in his pants, and he needily rubs his bulge against your pulsating cunt, with desperate whimpers.

He’s moaning at the sound of your voice, it's mocking and patronizing. He looks up at you through bleary, pussy drunk eyes, drooling over himself. You giggle at this and wipe it away with your thumb, smearing it across his lips. His tongue eagerly darts out to kitten lick your finger. “Such a good boy, d'you like eating my pussy?” The vampire is nodding fervently, cock twitching in his pants when you snicker, brushing your lips against his teasingly. “I want to hear you say it, say you liked eating my pussy.”

He doesn't hold back, eager to please you. “I loved eating your pussy s'much. You taste s'good.” His cheeks flush at his explicit words, but the dark pleasure that resides in your eyes makes up for it. “Good job, was that so hard puppy?” Elias' cock jumps at the sound of your praise and he shakes his head, biting his lip, "Mhm mhn." He jolts, startled as you undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly.

Your eyes stay glued to his as you drool onto your hand, hand slipping down his boxers. He's stiff, pulsating in your warm, slick grasp. He's long and thick but you think nothing of it. Your hand moves deliberately, rolling down his shaft in a slow, fisting motion, his green eyes blurry and locked on yours. Your thumb caresses his sensitive tip, gathering the glistening droplets of precum and using it as lube. Elias whines and bucks his hips, eyebrows furrowing and chest heaving.

You grin at his fucked out face and speed up, focusing your hand on his sensitive, leaky tip. "Does it feel good?" He’s nodding quickly, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly, sucking shyly on your tongue. He almost cums in your hand when you pull away, tongue lolling out.

With fervent kisses and fervid praises, you leave a trail of marks upon his body. His cock throbs with a delicious ache, his orgasm building slowly as you unknowingly edge him, tears prick his eyes as you swipe across his overly sensitive tip again. His moans are like symphonies, whining and begging for you to make him cum.

“ N-no more, I can’t, please, let me c-cum, please. I’ll do anything, just p-please.” His words stumble out, his hips jerking involuntarily. You pause for a second, then give in, planting a tender kiss on his lips. You press him down against the velvety carpet, positioning your sloppy pussy over his cock, and swaying your hips, sliding him through your swollen folds, his mushroom tip catching on your clenching hole.

Smiling at his tortured face, you slowly sink onto his cock, your thighs shaking as he stretches you out in the most delicious way. Elias buries his face into the carpet, a deep groan leaving his lips. Your gummy, slick walls squeeze him in a vice grip, reluctantly yielding to his thickness. "Mmph--!! You're too tight, wait, s'too much."

Ignoring his prattling you bring your hands up to rest against his stomach, lifting from his cock before dropping back down to take the rest of him inside of you. An overwhelming tingling causes your pussy to flutter around him, your cheeks flushing and a whine escaping your lips. "You're so big...you feel s'good." You halfheartedly snicker when he twitches inside of you at the praise.

Without waiting, you start a bruising pace, bouncing on his cock and grinding your engorged clit into his pelvis. His cock bullies your cervix, his hot and slick precum coating your womb. He whimpers, hands gripping the fat of your hips, you look absolutely stunning. Your breasts sway temptingly in front of his face and he can't help but draw a stiffened nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling, careful of his fangs against your skin.

Your hips are moving quicker now, your moans getting louder as you shower him with sweet words and adorable nicknames, pushing him closer to the edge. When you stop right on his sensitive tip and grind, he’s seeing stars. He’s cumming hard and long, thick, copious amounts of cum flooding your womb in hot spurts. He unlatches from your nipple, his head gently thumping against the carpet softly and back arching, his hips bucking and griding deftly into your spongey nerves, your pussy creaming around him. "M-mhmn! Cumming, m'cumming!" He whimpers, grip tightening on your waist.

Elias whines softly as you continue to bounce on his overly sensitive cock, his thick cum dripping onto his thighs. He tosses his head back and cries out, your cunt squeezing his member affectionately. “Such a good boy, you did so well.” The praise makes him flush and your lips slant over his in a kiss, your back bowing as your thighs shake, convulsing around him as you cum. You pull away, chest heaving.

"Are y-." He pauses as your eyes flutter closed and you collapse against him. Catching his breath, he let himself lay there, holding you close, the aphrodisiac must’ve worn off. His eyes start to slip shut after a few minutes but he tenses when he hears footsteps from upstairs.

"Honey! We're back!"

765 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)

Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.

Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.

“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”

“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”

“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”

You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?

Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.

—

You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.

“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.

Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.

The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it.

Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.

—

Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.

“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”

“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.

“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”

“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”

“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.

“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time.

As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.

“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.

“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.

“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up.

“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”

You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”

A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.

“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.

“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.

“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.

“No?”

“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him.

He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.

You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.

“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”

At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.

Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.

Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.

Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.

One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.

“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.

“So you came here to look at that?”

“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”

“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.

“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed.

“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.

Clink.

The two of you stiffened at the sound.

“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.

Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.

“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”

“I suppose I have miscalculated.”

“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”

“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.

“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”

“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”

“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.

“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”

“We’re children,” you deadpanned.

“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”

“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”

“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”

“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.

“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”

“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”

“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.

“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.

You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.

“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.

“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”

Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.

It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.

Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.

You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.

“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.

“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.

“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.

“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.

You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.

Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was.

“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.

“The A-Akademiya?”

“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”

He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.

“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.

“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.

Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.

—

The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.

But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.

But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.

“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.

“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”

“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.

“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.

“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”

“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.

“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”

You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.

“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.

And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger.

—

You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow.

Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.

You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.

Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.

The man who you fell in love with.

The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.

You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.

But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-

Knock-knock.

You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?

Knock-knock-knock.

Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.

Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.

Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.

“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”

Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”

“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”

“The Fatui has recruited me.”

“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.

“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”

“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.

“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”

You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love?

“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.

“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.

“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.

“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”

“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.

“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.

“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching.

Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?

You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue.

Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.

But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.

“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.

Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.

Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back…

And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin impact il dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #dottore angst #zandik x reader #genshin impact dottore #genshin impact zandik

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kimchikrust · 2 months

Text

She's Breaking News

Lately, you’ve been on the news, and while Katsuki wouldn’t typically care, your recent popularity affects him more than he’d like.

You’re rising in the ranks quickly for a newly licensed Pro. Up-and-coming rookie, and a woman on top of that, so the whole region knows about your masked persona. Unfortunately for Katsuki, you’re fast approaching the top ten and coming after his spot in the top five.

He can tell you're formidable from the footage of your endeavors released to the public, and if this were high school, he’d be demanding to spar and test your skills.

But you didn’t attend UA; you’re a transfer from North America. You held no torch for the citizens of Japan. Your position was merely a job that took you away from home. So why was Katsuki fuming over the latest front page in the paper?

FOREIGN HERO, HERE TO STAY

Katsuki had yet to work with you on any assignments. His job as a more seasoned residential hero was to remain on-call at all times and begin developing relationships with others – networking for a longstanding career as a Pro. He didn’t plan to ever cross paths with you.

“Why are you such a hater, Kat?” Eijirou sighs heavily one day. They were sharing an elevator, and Eijirou brought you up. Katsuki rolls his eyes in a display of exhaust.

“She’s a shiny new hero for the fanatics to fixate on,” the explosion hero grumbles, unable to mask his bitterness. “She ain’t that impressive.”

“We’ve watched the same footage,” Eijirou points out with a smile dancing over his lips. “She’s efficient and packs a punch. I think I read that she’s on the shorter side too; you can’t tell from the pictures-”

“I couldn’t care less, Eiji,” Katsuki murmurs, rubbing his palm over his face and breathing in relief at the elevator’s final chime.

They called you the Sentinel in the States, and your moniker followed you to Japan. The Sentinel, Katsuki harrumphed. Did he consider your hero name ironic – a shorter-than-average American woman considered a soldier to Japan?

“What a joke,” Katsuki said as he watched your recent battle play on the screen over the bar.

“Sorry, Kachan,” Izuku panted, colliding into the counter in a rush. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Yeah, but don’t sweat it,” he grumbled, sipping his fruity horoyoi can. “You come from work?”

“How’d you know?” Izuku bashfully scratched the back of his head as he slid onto his reserved stool.

“You’re still wearing your boots.” Katsuki glanced down at the massive accessories on his friend’s feet with an amused glint. Izuku’s face grew bright red at the realization.

“Oh, wow. That’s embarrassing.”

Katsuki pondered, waiting for Izuku to settle into his seat and order his drink. “How was she?”

“How was who? Ochako?” Ochako was Izuku’s partner since their days at UA. Izuku’s favorite pastime was fanboying over his Pro-Hero girlfriend, but sometimes his efforts were overzealous.

“No, you crazy bastard,” Katsuki chastised. “Sentinel. You fought with her today, didn’t you?”

Izuku looks at him curiously. “I didn’t really fight with her. They called us both in, but she handled the situation alone. Handled it well, if I’m being honest.”

Katsuki hummed in displeasure, and his childhood friend saw it for what it was.

“I heard from Kirishima that you’re holding a grudge against her,” Izuku mentioned innocently. “From what I can tell, she doesn’t care too much about the rankings.”

“Doesn’t matter. The woman is still rising in the ranks like she could give a fuck, and that’s a threat to my number one spot.”

“Not yours yet, Kachan,” Izuku muses, graciously accepting his drink from the bartender. “There are other contenders you should be more worried about.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki couldn’t bite back his smile as he cut a glance at his old friend’s chipper expression. “You threatening me, shrimp?”

“I certainly won’t make it easy for you.” Izuku shrugs, taking a sip from his drink.

They called you the Dimension Hero after you released information on your quirk to the public. It was in an interview that the Hero Commission set up, linking your appearance to their credit. A nameless interviewer innocently asked the details of her power, only to discover another trait Japan could love about you.

From the footage of your battles throughout your career, Katsuki made connections to your quirk and fighting style. You fought with constructs for the most part. When you activate your quirk in battle, your body glows a soft purple – an excess of power drawn from ‘another dimension’ (a tidbit that sparked a lively audience amidst the public).

“Like I’m stupid enough to believe that,” Katsuki mumbled after watching the interview.

You revealed that drawing power from this pocket dimension gave you an upper hand against opponents. With the ability to access a seemingly unlimited energy source, Katsuki couldn’t fathom the drawbacks of your quirk.

It sounded like bullshit.

The first time he meets you, it’s after witnessing your quirk in action. Katsuki, in his hero suit, spectates from the rooftops while you’re pursuing a villain.

While you’ve had your Pro-Hero license for a while, you were still new to the landscape in Japan. That much is evident to Katsuki when you lose the villain in the unfamiliar industrial terrain. He could’ve left the job to you, let you lose the suspect, and taken a hit to your popularity. But it didn’t feel right to leave you scrambling. Katsuki’s job as a Pro was to help people, and he took his career seriously.

It’s easy for a resident hero to navigate the streets, quickly taking a shortcut to cut off the villain. The suspect unfortunately doesn’t realize he’s trapped – too fearful of the woman on his tail – and Katsuki takes the opportunity to fire at his feet, sending the man flying into the side of the building.

Katsuki waits as the man takes one look at him, standing tall and menacing in his costume, and rightfully surrenders.

“Your first smart decision today,” he says with an amused huff, preparing himself for meeting you.

“You got him,” you pant in pleasant surprise when you arrive at the scene. You look at him in exhausted awe and breathe, “Awesome.”

Awesome? He rolls his eyes as your resemblance to his moronic friends is uncanny.

You eye the culprit sitting on the ground and look around. “Where’s the other one?” Katsuki frowns. Wasn’t there only one?

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and his instincts roared in the back of his conscience. There’s a figure taking advantage of his lax state and attacking from behind, and there’s no time for Katsuki to dodge, so he prepares himself to take a hit.

Before it landed, a hole ripped through the air before Katsuki and the accomplice fell in with a panicked cry. By the wall, a second hole reveals the suspect flying out against the concrete, successfully incapacitating him.

“Thanks for the assist,” you say sincerely to the Explosion Hero.

“No problem,” Katsuki murmurs, casting his eyes down.

When you don’t say anything in response, he decides to introduce himself – as a coworker.

“I’m Dynamight.” He watches your eyes shine your signature purple and conjure cuffs on the beaten-down criminals.

“I know,” you laugh gently, scratching the back of your arm as you stretch it over your chest. “Your friends admire you a lot.”

Exchanging words with you for the first time didn’t turn out as Katsuki imagined. His ears glowing bright red, his palms sweating, and he’s a flustered wreck.

“Those idiots,” he mumbles with a growl, halfheartedly cussing out Eijirou’s big mouth. “Don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“So, you’re not the hater?” You ask him dryly, and Katsuki can understand your sarcasm. “You can tell your friends I’m grateful the high and mighty helped me today.”

“Tell them yourself,” Katsuki retorts, crossing his gauntlets over his chest. “I suspect they like you more than me at this point.”

You only smile in jest. “Can you blame them?”

Your fluency in Japanese is laughable, but the enthusiasm is there, Katsuki notes. He watches as you pull out your phone and tap away at it while two suspects are in custody before you.

“Shouldn’t you be taking these guys in?” he remarks, nodding in their direction.

“I’m looking up the nearest station. I don’t have the best sense of direction in newer areas.”

“Radio dispatch,” he says, because it’s protocol, and you should know that by now.

You sigh in frustration as if you’ve explained yourself several times before.

“I haven’t received a radio yet. I think it involves some hazing from people in the Commission,” you say passively, pocketing your phone once you’ve pinned the location. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t need it.”

“What ar-”

You don’t wait for Katsuki to understand before clasping your hands together in a prayer. In the next second, a vast hole rips open again, and Katsuki can’t make out what’s on the other side – like a purple-tinted mirror that reflects what’s in front of it. You don’t waste time to grab the men and shove them through with aggression.

“I can handle filing the report, and I won’t forget to mention Lord Explosion God Dynamight made his appearance,” you tell him, stepping towards the portal. There’s a playful smile on your lips, and Katsuki can’t know if you’re joking. “I’ll see you around.”

You step through, and you and the portal disappear like you were never there with him.

He still doesn’t know much about you, and if anything, that interaction only confused him more. But he knows you must have looked him up to call him his official hero title.

He finishes the rest of his patrol without issue, wondering what he’d find the news saying next.

#Katsuki is a nerd #he's so adorable #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 [𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦]

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is too blinded by duty to realize what he has right in front of him.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 5.6k (this isn't even a drabble anymore).

the tags & warnings — language, more emotional constipation, mentions of blood & injury, childhood friends(?)2l, unrequited love, angst w a semi-happy / openish ending.

the notes — based off of this request & this one ! let’s pretend the trees of souls didn’t get burned down in the first movie :)

masterlist

You were an odd thing, curious, maybe a little strange, but like learning anything, everyone had grown accustomed to your weird little habits. Everyone except for Neteyam, the clan leader’s son. And the weird habit in question was poorly-expressed words of adoration that seemed to meld into unconventional confessions as you got older.

It started when you two were eight, perhaps nine. The two of you were in a village elder’s tent, learning the best ways to debone fish to prepare for meals when she’d ducked out for a moment and left the two of you in a cloud of uncomfortable silence.

Neteyam’s fingers were nimble, swift, while you lagged behind, eyes fluttering to the way he seemed to grasp the elder’s instruction with more ease than you.

“We should always be together,” you’d said absently, still fiddling with the same fish while Neteyam moved onto the next. “I will be useless to our family without you.”

Neteyam’s spine had gone rigid, gaze wide as he side-eyed you from his seat.

“Huh?” He’d clearly been caught off guard, ministrations on the catch frozen as his eyebrows furrowed.

“When we are married,” you’d said, holding the bone structure of your first fish triumphantly.

“Married?” he parroted shrilly, fully turning to face you.

You looked up from your task, nodding like it was the most common of knowledge.

“Yes, Neteyam,” you affirmed, chuffing a small laugh. “In the future, when we are married.”

Neteyam wouldn’t have been so off put had the comment been a one time thing, but they were frequent, spoken both in the quiet of much-dreaded time alone with you and hushed whispers in the midst of the other villagers your age.

It wasn’t any help that his parents seemed to always set the two of you up in many endeavors over the course of your adolescence. And he’d tried, tried so hard to shake you over the years, but you were glued to his hip.

You look handsome today, you’d say often, regardless. Training is paying off, whispered in his ear as your fingertips smoothe over the skin of his biceps. I hope the little ones grow to be as mighty as you are, spoken after sessions in the archery circle. The comments are all fleeting, mentioned in passing like a casual word, but they make Neteyam warm, make his cheeks heat when he searches your face for any betrayal of emotion.

But all he’s met with is an expression that borders smug, one that makes him wonder why, out of all of the boys growing into fine young men over the course of your adolescence, had you picked him to be the object of your affections.

Try as he might, to be short-tempered, callous, you were always there. He sought the attention of other women, tried to put as many bodies between the two of you, but you were relentless, smiled gently when you’d catch his wandering hands against the skin of another, would turn a blind eye when his lips brushed too intimately over eager ears.

At first he figured that maybe it was because he was the first boy you’d encountered and it’d just been the way the cards were dealt. At times he thought you were messing with him, a long-running joke between you and some unknown entities to fuck around with his feelings. His current theory, however, is one that he sits more confidently on when he begins observing you.

You spend an awful amount of time not only tailing him, but tailing his family, pestering Kiri and Lo’ak about god knows what, spending many afternoons schmoozing with his parents, seeking guidance from Mo’at.

He comes to the conclusion, after some time, that you’re trying to solidify your place within his family, trying to secure your role next to him as the future leader of the clan. This much is confirmed when his parents bring up the sore topic of you one night once everyone has turned in after the evening meal.

“The time for your selection feast is arriving,” Neytiri says hesitantly, like she’s treading on thin ice.

Neteyam has an inkling where this conversation will go when Jake shifts to sit next to his partner, the perfect picture of what a love that transcends all should look like. But he doesn’t know love, just knows preparing for his future and what ruling the clan will look like.

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees.

“Do you have someone in mind?” Jake prods, busying himself by toying with his songchord.

To his dismay, you briefly eclipse his mind, the annoyingly beautiful girl he’d grown up with but, even a decade later, still can’t seem to get a good read on.

“No,” he answers slowly.

His parents seem to chew on this for a moment, glancing at each other momentarily before Neytiri draws in a deep breath and focuses her attention on her oldest son all over again.

“Well…your father and I believe that perhaps ________ could be a good choice.”

It’s like a bomb detonates, but the aftershocks are only seen in the way Neteyam’s lips purse and his brows furrow.

He’s not one to go against his parents, but he’ll be damned if he has to spend forever with you.

“No,” he repeats, but with time with vindication.

Jake looks stunned, back straightening as he takes his son in with wary eyes.

“No?”

“No,” Neteyam reiterates. “I would rather spend my life alone than spend it with her.”

“Neteyam,” Neytiri sighs.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I won’t,” he says firmly, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he glances between both of his parents, hoping, wishing that maybe they’ll see that this isn’t a good idea.

“Maitan, you don’t understand,” Neytiri says softly. “When you and ________ were born, Ewya gave us a sign.”

Neteyam’s blood runs cold.

“So this has already been decided?” he asks, voice eerily steady.

“Not necessarily,” Jake interjects. “We didn’t want you two to feel like you were being forced to be together so we hoped that encouraging you both to spend time together would allow something to develop…”

“But they haven’t, so now it’s a not-so-silent push,” he says shortly.

His parents share another look and he feels annoyance beginning to form in his gut.

“We wouldn’t say that there aren’t any feelings there,” Neytiri says.

Neteyam breathes a humorless laugh as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I don’t feel anything for her,” he says with finality. “Nothing about a union with her piques my interest. We’ve been in close proximity since birth but my heart feels more for the trees in the forest than it ever will for ________.”

Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

“Have you thought about giving her a chance?” he pushes. “She’s a lovely girl, really likes you.”

That draws another huff of humorless laughter from Neteyam.

“The only thing she’s interested in is status and being tsahik,” Neteyam scoffs. “There is nothing there.”

Neytiri opens her mouth to say something, but Neteyam has mustered up as polite an excuse as he can as he stands to his feet and bows his head to his parents.

When he ducks from the tent, he doesn’t expect to see you lingering outside of the exit.

His face morphs as the quiet words leave your lips.

“You doubt my affections for you.” It’s a statement and a question wrapped in one, but you’re resigned, like always, and Neteyam can’t seem to grasp what you’re trying to get at clinging to him, to whatever this dynamic is.

“What’s this game you’re playing?” he accuses, eyes narrowed.

“What game?” you ask, gaze unfaltering as you stare up at him with those round golden eyes.

He lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Our entire lives, from being kids to now, you’ve toyed with me,” he says fiercely. “With this idea of us. Why? I’ve given you no reasons to be fond of me, yet you’re always here, there, everywhere.”

“I have much to be fond of,” is your simple answer and Neteyam could groan in frustration.

“Like what? Being the olo’eyktan’s son? Holding the future of this clan in my hands?” he asks sharply.

“I would love you, circumstances withstanding,” you respond. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Love.

What an odd concept, weird. One that Neteyam can’t seem to wrap his mind around when it comes to you. Doesn’t think he ever will.

“Afraid of what?” he bites.

“Of loving me back,” you say.

He grimaces like the very thought disgusts him, like you’re an aversion he desperately wants to rid of. And perhaps you are, you realize, seeing years of pent up frustration and anger culminating into one big wound ready to rupture.

“You think I love you?” he asks incredulously.

He doesn’t miss the way you shrink, blinking quickly.

“If you gave us a chance, maybe,” you whisper.

It sounds like the conversation with his parents all over again and realization seems to shutter across his features as he looks down at you.

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?” you ask quietly.

“How long have you known that they’re trying to force us to be together?” he asks.

You’re silent for a moment before muttering something under your breath.

“What?” he snaps.

“They aren’t forcing us,” you clear your throat. “Not me, at least.”

He scoffs.

“Of course,” he mocks. “Because it only matters what you want out of this. Not that for the last decade I’ve been trying to get you to back off, trying to get you to understand that I don’t want this. I don’t want us, and if it means forfeiting my responsibilities, then so be it.”

It’s a lofty statement, one that seals the last nail on your coffin.

You’d loved Neteyam for as long as you can remember, have probably liked him for longer. When your parents told you early on that Eywa had given both of your families a sign that you and Neteyam were meant for one another, you’d embraced the idea wholeheartedly. Loved the idea of loving him even through moments when he’d try to drive a wedge between the two of you.

Give him time, your parents had said to you. Jake and Neytiri want his feelings to develop naturally.

And you waited. God, you waited, for so long. Waited for him to come around, to realize the things he did to you. Perhaps you had been too presumptuous, thinking that he’d be able to read you behind such a stoic facade, afraid that if you revealed too much of your wanting, you’d turn him off from the idea of being with you.

But as you stand here before him, small under such a burning gaze, you realize that it’d been wishful thinking. Choosing him meant nothing if he didn’t choose you back.

“I see…” you trail off quietly.

“Do you?” he asks, tone facetious.

You nod once, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to see that his expression twitches the tiniest amount when he clocks the way your body seems to deflate.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

His following days are quiet, filled with personal duties and commitments to the clan. He’d expected you to sleep off the night’s confrontation, he certainly had, a twinge of guilt searing his gut.

But you’re good at hiding, good at masking your feelings, good at disappearing. It doesn’t bother him at the beginning, figuring that you need your space, but then it’s a dull ache that ebbs into a grating gnaw as his every other thought flits to you and what you could be doing now that you’ve settled such a wide distance between himself and his family.

“You are injured a lot more these days,” Mo’at observes, slathering the viscous mixture over a cut between his shoulder blades.

He remains silent, doesn’t know how to admit that he’d been far more reckless these past few days in the hopes that he’d run into you in his grandmother’s quarters. A silent yearn to feel your skilled fingers work over his wounds, tender as you try to pry your way into his heart.

Mo’at had been the one you spent the most time with, diligently training in the chance that Neteyam would finally see you, would make you his. But right now, you’re nowhere to be found and all he’s rewarded with is his grandmother’s rough hands and inquisitive gaze.

“She made this salve,” Mo’at says, filling the silence with idle talk. “Found a recipe that speeds healing and softens the skin.”

“Did she?” Neteyam responds absently, imagining you picking and pruning the herbs yourself, frame languid as you move through the brush.

“Said she didn’t want her lover to have such tough skin.”

There’s laughter in his grandmother’s voice, but he can’t find it in himself to see the humor in the situation. Not when he’s beginning to see that maybe he’s not just another rung in the ladder for you, that duty is the most miniscule drop in your bucket.

“Where’s ________?” he asks after a moment, hissing through his teeth when his grandmother’s fingers prod the wound.

“Taking a break from her studies to assist Ama with the children,” she answers, and he misses the knowing look in her eyes. She pats his shoulder when she’s done patching him up. “She’s a fine young woman, Neteyam. Many of the villagers do not turn a blind eye to that fact. If she is not the one that your heart desires, give her the opportunity to align with one that does.”

It makes something ugly, green, roil in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you being the subject of houndish eyes. You’re too reserved, too sweet, too devoted to be anyone else’s.

And the thought floors him, makes the knot growing obnoxiously in his throat choke the air from his lungs.

“Yeah,” he agrees in a whisper.

And he knows that his grandmother is right. Knows that he shouldn’t be asking about you, doesn’t have the right to hold you hostage if the union is something that truly unsettles him. But the thought of letting go of whatever the two of you have is surprisingly indigestible.

Neteyam is frustrated, thoroughly disoriented now that all he can think of is you. He’d tried everything under the sun to shake you, to get you to throw your cards in first, but now that you have, it’s like you tug on a string tethered to his hellish heart.

He stands to his feet and turns to face Mo’at, giving a respectful nod before exiting the tent.

It’s wrong, he knows it, seeking you out after burning every bridge between the two of you, but he can’t help it. Can’t help but enter the clearing in the forest carved through with a stream that the little ones play in.

You’re exactly where his grandmother had said you were, sitting near the edge of the bubbling waters with Ama, a girl a few years your senior. The children are giggling, laughing as they splash each other, splash you. The expression on your face falters a little, stern as you adjust the netting strapped to your chest.

The air is trapped in his lungs as he realizes. Sees the little head that peeks from the top of the fabric, ear pressed to your heart as you cover the baby’s head from the children’s gleeful laughter.

“That’s not very nice,” you say gently. “Your little sister is trying to sleep.”

Your voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck prick, a soft rasp that’s haunted him for the last few sleepless nights. It’s odd, seeing you in this light, relaxed from your lack of duties. You’re in your element like this, smiling and coddling the children of the clan as they climb over you and poke and prod.

“Teyam!” One of them clocks him before he can retreat and his spine is going stiff, stomach turning when he sees the way your expression melts.

“Hi,” he greets simply, unable to form anything more solid in the fears that he’ll spook you.

The kids start emerging from the stream one by one, surrounding him as he takes a few tentative steps into the clearing.

“Neteyam,” Ama greets cordially, eyes flitting between the two of you as you busy yourself with the little one strapped to your chest.

Neteyam, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you. He’s silently pleading with Eywa, with whatever other force lies out of reach that you’ll just look at him. But you’re locked up tighter than a vault, obviously still reeling from the confrontation all those days ago.

He hums your name, gentle like a prayer. Your eyes are hesitant, watching the snoozing baby in your arms before glancing at the remaining children in the stream before finally meeting his longing gaze.

“Can we talk?” he asks you, flashing one of the curious kids a brief smile when they tug on the hem of his loincloth.

Your response is far more blunt than he’d expected, taken aback when you murmur a firm, “No.”

He supposes that he deserves that, has earned the warmth that eclipses over his cheeks as the children watch the exchange with inquisitive eyes. And the way you stand to your feet to wrangle the village’s little ones is merited, telling them that playtime is over.

But as Ama helps you gather their things, sensing the obvious tension between you and the olo’eyktan’s son, he realizes that he can’t just let this go. He won’t. Not without making things right, without telling you that loving you isn’t the hard part, it could never be.

But agency is something his parents have withheld from him his entire life, molded him into being the perfect son that bends to the clan’s every beck and call. Loving you was just another thing to add to the list of things he did for everyone else’s sake but his own.

He sees now, though, sees that loving you, being in love with you isn’t a difficult feat. Not when he’s been given the smallest glance into what having a future could be like with you. Especially not when he’s learned so many things about you in the moments where you’re a fleeting plume of smoke that surrounds and chokes him all the same.

He calls your name again, firm this time around. There’s a stutter in your step, he sees the way your shoulders draw taut with a labored sigh.

You murmur something to Ama, undoing the ties to the netting that carries the dozing infant. Neteyam watches as you shush the kids, reminding them to be good to their tsmuke on their journey through the forest.

Your fingers are gentle as you tie the last knot, brushing Ama’s shoulders lightly as you tell her you’ll catch up with her shortly.

When they’re out of earshot, clambering back into the village circle, you turn on your heel, standing on the opposite side of the embankment. The glittering waters gurgle between the two of you as you wait patiently for Neteyam to muster his courage.

“About our union,” he starts. “I–”

“I’ve told my parents to forgo the preparations,” you say softly, seemingly unbothered as you pay more attention to the blades of grass that tickle your ankles.

Neteyam’s spine stiffens.

“Why would you…”

“You don’t want this,” you repeat his words from the fall out. “You don’t want us. We’ll both be unhappy.”

It makes his heart squeeze.

“You would be so unhappy in our union?” he scoffs, like he’s cracked the code.

He doesn’t expect the humorless laugh that spills past your lips, obviously laden with tears when he focuses hard enough.

“Of course I would, Neteyam,” you say fiercely, quietly. “I have spent so much of my life being so disgustingly in love with you when all you’ve wanted was me gone. Do you really think I’d let myself suffer at the expense of someone who would rather be alone than be forced to spend time with the likes of me.”

You make it sound horrible. And perhaps it was, being so taken by someone who’s life mission was to sever every carefully stitched tie.

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s coming to terms with the fact that maybe he’s been gravely mistaken this entire time.

“So have your freedom,” you say chillingly. “I surrender.”

He’s closing the distance between the two of you, splashing through the shallow river to root you to place, fingers wrapped tightly around your elbow.

You snatch away from his grasp, turning so sharply, he stumbles back. The pad of your finger pokes harshly into his chest, tear-filled eyes brimming as your gaze searches his face.

“Don’t be heartless,” you hiss. “If there is one thing I will ask of you it is to leave me alone.”

The distance between the two of you widens as you pluck your bow and quiver nearby and rush off into the brush, leaving Neteyam in the quieting clearing to allow the weight of your words sink to his bones.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching the same spot you’d disappeared past, but the forest is beginning to glow and he should be home soon.

The entire encounter puts him on edge as he climbs through the foliage, moving over fallen logs and blooming flora. His muscles are taut, shoulders tight as he maps the long route back home.

It’s only when a sudden crack in the distance sounds that he becomes aware of how still the forest seems around him, like there are eyes and ears watching his every move.

A look in the sky reveals a darkening swathe of midnight, leaves gleaming from outstretched branches. As he surveys his surroundings, his ears prick, picking up the most minute of sounds, rhythmic against the dense grass.

His hand is on his dagger in an instant, eyes wild as he holds his breath. The pulse is nearing, almost insignificant against the backdrop of nature’s call, but something isn’t right and it makes nausea stir in his stomach.

He blinks once, twice, before something closes over his mouth and a body seems to fuse against his back.

“It’s me.” Your voice is ragged, hushed against the shell of his ear, and he nearly melts, fingers loosening from around the hilt of his knife.

“I–”

“Don’t speak,” you warn. “They are near.”

He tenses again as you move your bodies behind a curtain of green, off the trodden path.

“There are five of them,” you whisper and he shivers something fierce. “Two down, three on foot.”

After years of training from his father, he knows who they are.

“How did you…why do you–”

“You didn’t return to the village,” you hiss.

His heart skips a beat, thrumming because even if you’d been angry at him, you’d noticed his absence. Had gone looking for him, even. He turns to face you, wants to tell you that he’d do anything to make things right, but he realizes that now’s not a good time.

You’re pale, gravely so, a feral look in your eyes as you grasp at your left side.

Blood. You’re bleeding.

“What the fuck?”

“Stop,” you breathe shakily. “Not now.”

“________, you’re wounded!” he protests.

You slap a hand over his mouth, golden eyes widening as you press closer to him.

He takes the opportunity to peer over your shoulder in pursuit of an exit wound and sighs when he finds the skin still intact.

“You’re hurt,” he tries again, grabbing the wrist clutching your side.

You shake your head vehemently.

“Stop it, Neteyam,” you plead hoarsely. “We need to get rid of them before they find the village.”

You’re right, he realizes, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he notes the tremble of your lip and the furrow between your brows.

“Okay,” he swallows, nodding hesitantly. “Okay.”

“Near the Tree of Souls,” you tell him, knees shaky as you draw an arrow and load your bow.

You creep forward slowly, willowy frame shielding Neteyam as you move through the forest.

He barely notices, only sees it when you pause a moment too long, body twitching as the bow quivers in your loosening grasp.

“________?” Neteyam’s voice is testing, closing the berth.

Your bow lowers, fingers brushing over the wound once again. When you assess the wetness of the pads of your fingers, Neteyam’s able to get a good look at the damage.

His eyes widen, grabbing your shoulders tightly when he sees that your eyes are drooping.

“Wait,” he says sharply. “Don’t—”

Your bloody hand brushes his chin.

“Make sure…make sure they are…”

“She must rest.”

“It will only be for a moment.”

The words slur together, distant and muddy as your eyes flicker open to assess your surroundings.

“Maite, you are awake.” Your mother kneels next to you, expression a picture of harrowing concern. “Oh, Eywa, I’m glad you are awake.”

It returns in waves, like the ebb and flow of water dousing you. The enemy, in bodies like your own, ruthless to creatures both gentle and roaring. Clothed like humans with gear so imposing, you nearly shrunk with such a small bow and only enough arrows to make each shot count.

You’d taken out two of them with shaky hands before their hailing bullets pierced the trunks of trees and left gaping holes in the leaves. One had landed, lodged its way right above the left side of your pelvis.

It aches as you sit up, seeing the aftermath of what must have been a grisly extraction.

“Stop, stop,” your mother says quickly, hands on your shoulders to guide you back. “You will disturb Mo’at’s work.”

“There are more of them,” you rush. “They are–”

“Shh, my child,” she coaxes. “They are gone.”

It had been a horrific sight, seeing Neteyam carrying you back to the village, limp and listless, covered in the blood of multiple parties with a nearly animalistic look in his eye.

“Where is Neteyam?” you whisper, lashes wet.

The look on your mother’s face softens with pity, knowing, as she sees it written all over your face.

She’d known it before and she’d known it after you approached her and your father with the request to call off the union.

I don’t love him, you’d said, unable to meet their eyes as you confessed. Eywa’s made a mistake with us. I want to be with someone that I love.

You’d been embarrassed, wanted to save face. You didn’t want them to know that the only man you’d ever known from adolescence to young adulthood hadn’t wanted a thing to do with you.

“I’m here.”

Neteyam’s entering the tent with your father hot on his heels, obviously defying his wishes to leave you be.

His forearm is wrapped in medicinal leaves, tied off with thin vine. A cut slices his brow bone, the wound still red and raw.

“I told you–”

Your mother shoots your father a contemptuous look before turning to you to smooth some of the hair away from your face.

“Eywa makes no mistakes, Maite,” she whispers, gaze pleading.

She’s on her feet, crossing the tent to meet Neteyam half way. With a comforting squeeze to his shoulder, she pushes your protesting father through the hide and suddenly the air is shrouded in silence save for your labored breathing and the weight of the eldest Sully’s gaze.

“I thought I lost you,” Neteyam says, the tiniest inflection of trembling pricking your ears.

You blink, watching as he stands at the end of the mat. He’s fidgeting but his eyes are searing, shaking with tears as he stares at you unblinking—like you’ll disappear between the shutter of his heavy eyelids.

You don’t know what to say, the lump lodged in your throat far too thick for you to form coherent words around.

Neteyam continues for the both of you.

“I thought that I wouldn’t…that I…”

You watch as he crumbles.

“Wouldn’t what?” you finally ask, voice dry.

“I thought that I wouldn’t be able to give us a chance.”

Your jaw tenses, breaking eye contact first as you shake your head in defeat.

“There isn’t an us,” you sigh shakily. “Said so yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” Neteyam scoffs, voice thick with tears. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you argue, clutching your injured side as it pulses with every beat of your thundering heart.

“Don’t—don’t give up on me yet,” he whispers. “Please.”

Your expression crumples and his face falls as you knuckle your tears away angrily.

“You’re cruel, Neteyam. So so cruel,” you murmur. “I am ashamed that you have my heart.”

The words are spoken with a quiet vindication that makes Neteyam feel like his nerve endings are fraying. A singular tear arcs over the swell of your cheek and an ache roots in his gut.

“Don’t say that,” he says, throat bobbing as he swallows the emotion threatening to bubble over. “I–”

“Neteyam.” Your father’s voice is stern, the flap of the tent flipping as he reenters.

Neteyam bites the inside of his lip as he spares you one last glance and your resolve dissipates when the broad expanse of his back faces you.

You’d expected Neteyam taking his leave to be some semblance of closure for the two of you, as clean of a break as you could come to terms with now that any precarious ties that bound the two of you were severed. But you hadn’t anticipated the singular ember inside of Neteyam fanning to be engulfing and all-consuming.

“I know you’re there,” you say simply, plucking the petals and leaves from the flora to tuck into the small pouch strung across your chest.

He’d been following you all afternoon, lingering a safe distance away, but his eyes haven’t left your healing frame and what had initially been confusion began to bleed into annoyance.

“Pay me no mind,” he says simply, emerging from the brush with a bow and quiver.

It’s been over a week since the sky people had infiltrated your corner of the forest and Neteyam hasn’t let you leave his sight once.

From the morning eclipse to the evening’s, Neteyam’s doted on you; shearing chunks of fruit, grinding down your herbs for your treatments, rewrapping your wound under Mo’at’s careful supervision.

You’d asked him to give you a moment of peace in the forest alone, but it wasn’t long before you scented him, heard his labored breathing as he tried to keep up with you.

You heed his word, stonewalling his presence like he’s nothing but another leaf stretching from the trees. And for a while, a long stretch of silence surrounds the two of you as you venture deeper and deeper into the forest.

But before you know it, each one of your steps is exchanged like for like, his looming and muscular frame eclipsing you like a shadow as you try to ignore the fact that he’s drawing nearer.

You turn on your heel to face him just as he settles a pace away, eyes clear and golden.

“What?” you snip, taking a step back.

He takes a step forward.

“You should not overexert yourself,” he replies simply.

“And what happened to paying you no mind?”

His fingers brush your sore wound and your gaze flits to the way his fingertips ghost over the dressing wrapped around the expanse of your lower abdomen.

The grin he gives you has many layers. You immediately decipher something sly, coy, as he searches your face.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says quietly. “I want you to pay me all the mind.”

Your expression is dry, eyes rolling as you step away from him. You’re swatting his palm away and shaking your head like a final warning.

“You don’t get to flirt with me after all this time,” you say, blanketing the semi-tense air with a cover of finality. “And you shouldn’t. There is no longer an obligation for us to be within vicinity of each other.”

You sound so cold, like you hadn’t spent the past decade pining after him in your own weird way. Like you hadn’t turned a blind eye when he found comfort in hopeful women despite wearing your heart on your oddly-stitched sleeve. Hadn’t been so willing to spend forever with him.

“You cannot dictate the turn of my heart,” Neteyam argues.

The look you give him could instill fear in even the most intimidating predators.

“You’d go to great lengths to quell a guilty conscience?” you ask. “Do not forget that forever is a long time. If nothing about our union piques your interest now, do not count on anything in the future.”

You’re feeling for buttons to push, tender spots that will make him let up, but Neteyam isn’t easily swayed. He doesn’t know if he loves you now, but the last few weeks make certain that he will. He isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s falling fast and hard.

“You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, yawne.”

The nickname makes you freeze, makes your eyes narrow as you glare up at the future olo’eyktan.

“Don’t be insufferable, Neteyam.”

“Duties be damned, I’ll spend every remaining moment doing right by you,” he says, fingers threading through yours so that he can bring your knuckles to his lips.

Your heart wavers and he sees the way the curtain falls, eyes a fraction softer.

He grins, tugging you closer. Moves your hair over your shoulder then skims his fingers along the sharpness of your jaw.

It draws a shiver from you as you shift nervously, gaze fluttering from his eyes to the plush of his mouth.

“Stop,” you whisper meekly. “We–”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” His voice is raw, edge melting away. “Union or no union. It’s always going to be you and me.”

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul , @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam drabble #neteyam fic #neteyam fluff #avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water

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redstarwriting · 11 months

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hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

───────────────────────────────────

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

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midnightarsenal · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞

Summary: Some old tweets come out and it puts you between a rock and a hard place.

Warning: Internalized Homophobia

Word Count: 2.6k

Arsenal Training Centre, St. Albans

///

You could sense the tension in the air before you'd even stepped through the doors.

...

The past few days had made you a bit of a nervous wreck. The result of some Sam Kerr fan account on Instagram posting a collection of old tweets you'd made nine years ago, back when you were 13.

Old, profoundly homophobic tweets.

And while some fans, mostly those already partial to you, had taken that substantial amount of time and your youth into account, many others had not. Instead, they hurled abuse alongside calls for the club to drop you at the earliest possible opportunity. You'd even tried disabling comments on your most recent social media posts before quickly realizing that the comments would simply move to older ones. Despite how bad some of them had become, you still found yourself not quite willing to disable the comments on every post you had ever made.

It was your own fault anyway. You had been signed by Arsenal a few months ago, having spent the years before that going from one mediocre team to the next until your international performance in Australia had seemingly caught the attention of several larger clubs, the Gunners included. You'd been positively over the moon when your management agency had called to give you the good news. It should have been your big break, and for a period of time, it was, but a position in such a prestigious club came with a level of increased publicity that you hadn't been fully prepared for.

You knew that you should have purged your Twitter before the contract had even been made public, but you'd long forgotten about those posts, those awful comments, and bigoted 'jokes' that your massively insecure thirteen-year-old self had felt the need to put out into the world to try and convince everyone that you were certifiably straight. To convince yourself in some deluded way that you did not frequently lose sleep over the increasingly intrusive and borderline distressing thoughts that plagued you every time you were around some of your friends at school and the teammates at your youth football academy.

Those thoughts just hadn't been you, of course. Because you were straight.

Or, at least that's what thirteen-year-old you had wanted to think at the time.

In the teenage years that followed those tweets, you had eventually been able to come to terms with your sexuality. It had been a slow, long, and painfully drawn-out process, but while the influence of your conservative family had worked to reinforce the close-minded worldview you had been raised with, being around so many openly gay women in your football career had ultimately proven to be a much stronger force in your life. To see that contrary to what you had been told, these supposedly evil and degenerate people were in fact perfectly ordinary and typically far kinder than the 'just' and 'moral' types you had been surrounded by in your childhood.

But, while you had gradually been deprogrammed from the more outwardly hostile and bigoted elements of how you'd been brought up, you had never quite gotten around to being proud of who you were, to being able to let yourself embrace what you felt and to let yourself be happy. Even today, all these years later, you still struggled to imagine yourself feeling the warmth of another woman, a woman you could love as more than just a friend, and a woman who you could feel comfortable telling the world about.

So, you had simply tried to ignore your feelings. Even as you went from teenager to adult and semi-professional to professional, you resigned yourself to a world in which love was an impossibility, where every teasing question from a friend about your romantic endeavors was expertly deflected with a non-committal answer and a change of topic.

You had learned to be happy for the women in your life who were openly gay and celebrated their relationships sincerely like a good friend would, but you could never deny yourself the reality that every time a close friend announced their new partner, you would feel a twinge of remorse, pain that was sourced from fleeting, quickly suppressed thoughts of a life not lived, an opportunity not taken, and a romance denied its potential. It was a sad way to live, but as sad as it was, the thought of telling the world that you were gay was even worse. It had always been worse.

...

And so now, as the sliding doors of the training centre's lobby parted, you found it a difficult task to keep your nerves from becoming overwhelming.

Management had already spoken to you about the tweets and the response on social media to them. Fortunately, no proper news outlet had put out an article on the 'situation' yet, but the club's PR people had seemed pretty nervous that eventually, one of them would. You'd told them that you hadchanged since you were thirteen and that you'd be more than willing to put out an apology. But, ultimately, their advice had been for you to simply stay quiet and hope it all went away on its own. Something that you had been less than thrilled to hear, as if you were ever confronted by a scenario in which it didn't just go away on its own, and eventually you were told to put out an apology, it would likely be too late by the time that you did.

"Morning, Y/N." you were taken away from your thoughts by the young woman at the front desk, Catherine. She was smiling, but you could tell it was a bit of a sympathetic smile, like the woman was trying to show that she was on your side. You appreciated the sentiment, of course, but being treated differently at all because of this was only making your nerves worse.

"Heya." you tried to greet back casually with a smile of your own, and despite your best efforts, it came across as an 'I know' type of smile, a visual confirmation that you acknowledged what had been happening on the Internet these past few days, and her small attempt to make you feel better.

You had almost passed her, ready to head deeper into the large facility when you abruptly stopped and asked, "Any of the other girls here before me?" To which the shorter woman behind the desk nodded, her demeanour steady in its sympathy towards you, knowing why you would be asking. After all, you were on a team with two gay relationships within it, let alone the number of players who just swung that way in general. And aside from the occasional joke or tease (the latter of which often hurt you to an extent that none of your new friends could possibly know), you were pretty certain that none of them actually thought you were a part of that category.

None of the girls had messaged you in the past twenty-four hours, which, while a little uncommon, wasn't an immediate tell that you had been made a pariah. The last message you'd gotten had been from Steph asking if you were available for a coffee date on Saturday, and that had been just over a day ago. Late enough to have been after that stupid account had posted those screenshots, but early enough to have been before many people knew about it.

Fuck, this was really getting to you.

You continued your way down the corridors of the training centre, each heartbeat feeling a little heavier than the last as you drew closer to the locker room. Knowing that at least a few of the girls would be there this early in the morning, getting changed or having a shower or just socializing as they waited for others to arrive. You wondered if they were talking about you, and if they were, what they were saying. You were wondering if they had already agreed to shun you, or even speak to Jonas about getting rid of you. Fuck, this was fucking getting to you.

You gripped the handle of the bag slung over your shoulder a little tighter as you approached the locker room and took a breath before opening the door, a hundred different scenarios having crossed your mind from the time you'd left the lobby to now.

Stepping into the locker room, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to what you had braced yourself for. It was business as usual—some of the girls were chatting casually, others were prepping their gear. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the hope that perhaps they hadn't seen those tweets or had chosen to ignore them.

But as you made your way to your locker, you could feel eyes on you. Some were quick glances, laced with uncertainty or curiosity, while others held longer, more contemplative stares. No one said anything directly, but the air was thick with unspoken questions and possible conclusions. It was hard to tell.

You kept your head down, focusing on getting ready. The sound of your locker door clanging shut seemed to echo louder than usual, and as you changed into your training gear, you pondered over your next steps. Ignoring the issue didn't feel right, but neither did addressing it without a plan.

"Hey," just then, your attention was taken by the sound of a voice that you quickly recognized as Katie's, her Dublin twang thick as always. The defender's expression was hard to read as she approached, and she sat down next to you, continuing after you replied, "Morning." Your voice was small, and your throat tightened a little, Katie was one of the closer friends you'd made in your somewhat limited time at the club, and her opinion mattered to you.

"Listen, I heard about the tweets," she started, and while you braced yourself for what might come next, you couldn't help but notice her tone being somewhat gentler than you'd expected, but still straightforward. "And, I wanted to say..." she continued, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. But, then she stopped, if only for a few seconds, and frowned slightly, though seemingly more to herself than to you. She looked like she was thinking about something, something about you, perhaps.

"Well, I don't know what I wanted to say exactly... but I'm here if you want to talk, or if you need anything, really."

Wait.

What?

You must have had a look on your face because the Irishwoman spoke up again. "Like, if you have anything you wanna get off your chest. I'm here for you, all of the girls are." She remained gentle, but you could tell that heart-to-hearts weren't exactly Katie's style (not that this surprised you) from the way she looked a little awkward, but her sincerity remained all the same.

Breathing just the slightest bit faster, it took you another second or two before you replied, "A lot of the girls?" One of your brows lifting curiously. Was... she implying what you were beginning to think she was implying?

Did Katie know think you were gay?

"Yeah. We care about ya, dummy. And unless you really are some horrible bigot, nothing you say is gonna change that." Katie smiled at that remark and you couldn't help but reflect her, shaking your head lightly in response. "I'm not," you confirmed, your eyes connecting with Katie's. "I was just... different then... I was—" You went to continue, but cut yourself off, your breath almost hitching as you caught yourself at the last moment from finishing that sentence.

I was afraid.

You could virtually see the defender's gaze softening on you in real time and you couldn't bear the sight of it anymore, glancing away and turning your attention to your shoes. The locker room around the pair of you was beginning to fade into the backdrop, although you got the feeling that it hadn't just been Katie's eyes on you. Even as you observed the details of your trainers, you could practically feel the woman next to you's gaze wandering off every few moments to the others in the room, maybe looking for assistance, or trying to convey her unspoken suspicion.

"You were what?" You heard, and this time it wasn't Katie who spoke. It was Beth, who was standing a short distance away by her own cubby. Immediately proving that your heart-to-heart with Arsenal's number 15 hadn't been quite so exclusive, and the locker room's sudden silence ironically brought it right back to the forefront of your attention. Everyone was listening, and many of them staring as well. Was this what they had been talking about before you'd shown up? Had they been in here putting together dots you hadn't known existed? A longing gaze you hadn't suppressed or one too many comments about the eyes or legs of another woman that you'd thought would simply slip under the radar as casual observation? Were those tweets the final confirmation they needed?

Was this the supposed 'gaydar' you had heard about?

"Nothing." you retorted swiftly, shaking your head again as you reached into your locker to resume getting dressed. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact you'd stopped when Katie had come over to talk to you, but the girls didn't seem intent on letting this moment slip away, and you could see Beth approach from your peripheral vision even as you tried to focus on getting changed. You were beginning to almost feel trapped, though you were certain that the culprit behind that particular feeling was more likely to be yourself than your teammates.

"Y/N, we're your friends." Beth said, kneeling down to eye level, while Katie still sat beside you, staring into the side of your head with an expression that was unusually gentle and almost unnervingly so. You still couldn't look at her without feeling your throat close up.

"Trust me... none of us are going to react like how that silly little brain of yours thinks we might." she continued softly and with a warm smile, and now you knew. You knew that they knew.

Your head tilted slightly up to look at Beth, who was now squatted a small distance from you, hands clasped together and blue eyes looking right into your own. You could still sense the looks of the other girls on you too, only now you didn't feel that they were judging, far from it actually. Your leg bounced up and down nervously, and you didn't even have it in you to try to stop it. You felt like you wanted to cry. Why was this so hard? Even now, when it was clear that everyone in the room knew. You just couldn't say it.

Your eyes started to glisten as the first tears threatened to push their way out, and you gave Beth a small, sad smile. Your throat began to hurt in the way that only a sob—or an imminent one—could provoke.

"I think you know already." you finally managed to get out, your voice as small as your presence in that room, and Beth only nodded. You could see some of the other girls nod too, but you were distracted by the feeling of Katie's hand taking your own and clutching it safely. A breath escaped you and it was shaky, uncertain, afraid.

"Yeah, I think we do, pet." the forward replied, closing the gap between you and pulling you in for a hug, her arms finding themselves at home wrapped around your torso. It was as if she'd given you permission to cry, the tears finally beginning to flow, as you buried your head into the other woman's shoulder, quietly sobbing into the fabric of her Arsenal jacket. Katie's hand tightened around your own, and you heard the sound of cleats and shoes closing in around you. You weren't sure how you were going to deal with this new reality moving forward, this world in which people other than yourself knew of your sexuality, but at least you wouldn't be alone.

///

End Notes: Hope you liked this one, guys! I promise not all of my fics will be angsty! I'm also in the process of writing an OC for a self-contained multi-part storyline. But, with how busy I've been with uni, who knows whether I'll actually finish it or not. Thanks for reading!

#woso #awfc #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #katie mccabe #beth mead #arsenal wfc x reader

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emotionalmessss · 1 year

Text

Revenge

A/N: first time writing a Dabi x reader one-shot. I just couldn't help myself with this one, lol. No spoilers. Non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: after an incident at Endeavour's Agency, you attract the attention of a certain Villain.

Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight violence, slight blood, forced, angst, dabi is mean, yandere (kinda?), heat play, spit, choking. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.1K

You flipped through the pages of your magazine whilst you sat slumped, and cuddled into the couch in your living room apartment. Scanning over the newest headlines and styles of hero costumes while your mind floated, absentmindedly gazing off out the windows every now and then. Fuck, they really publish just about anything, don’t they? You pondered, flipping over to the next page.

‘Mt Lady Takes Down Villain! Hottest and Best Angles!’

You huffed, slamming the magazine back down onto the coffee table. The people who wrote these articles were seriously fried in the head. Despite all of the good that Heroes did, there was always someone in the background; waiting patiently to exploit and publish the most taboo garbage. Your cheek rested against your palm as you rested against the arm of the couch, thinking back to the incident that led up to your very own interview. It wasn’t unheard of for rookie Heroes to have interviews, but it was a rare occurrence. And you remember it all too well.

You sat, awkwardly perched on the plastic chair as the woman in front of you placed a recorder down, pulled out a pen and notepad, and began hammering you with questions.

“What’s it like working as a Rookie alongside the Number One Hero?”

“Was this the costume you were wearing when the incident occurred?”

“Were you scared?”

“Why are you working with Endeavor when your Quirk has nothing to do with flames?”

All of the questions overwhelmed you, and you thought that you would be prepared since Endeavor briefed you prior to the interview. But as soon as the questions came pouring out of the red lipstick lined lips of the reporter - you froze. You tried to answer all of her questions as honestly as you could, but feared that she would turn and spin them on you. It was a habit of reporters to do so, and you refused to be on the next cover of some sleazy tabloid; ‘(Hero name)! Dirty secrets that saved her from the attack on Endeavor’s Agency!’

The thought made you gag.

It was true, your Quirk had nothing to do with fire or anything of the sort, but Enji Todoroki had been a family friend for years, and you were childhood best friends with his daughter, Fuyumi Todoroki. Your Quirk was basic - Telekinesis. It was handy, and you were getting stronger with it everyday. It was useful in the battlefield, proving to be one of the strongest when you attended UA.

“Did you see Shigaraki?”

“How hot were Dabi’s flames?”

When she asked you about Dabi and Shigaraki, you froze, immediately remembering what the heat of his flames felt like, and the gnawing fear of being turned to dust at any given moment. It was horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to jump off the chair and run out of the room. You knew that would solve nothing and only fidgeted slightly at her question and narrowing eyes.

You were seated at your desk, filing paperwork from a Villian that you had caught a few days prior. Everyone spoke about the joys of being a Hero, but often neglected the tedious amount of paperwork that followed suit. Hours had passed and you were still working silently at your desk space. You hadn’t even taken your lunch break in hopes of finishing the work before Endeavor returned.

Your fingers were starting to sting in exhaustion when you heard the first scream, it was loud and shrill; a woman. Your eyes widened and before you knew it, everyone was standing and running. Flames of blue erupted up the walls as you watched everyone flee from the heat. You pushed yourself up from your desk and flushed, blocking your face with your free hand. Endeavor was sent out on a mission a few hours prior, meaning that he would be gone for the rest of the day. Most of the other sidekicks were with him, and you would’ve gone too if you weren’t stuck with this mountain of paperwork.

You remember seeing your coworkers shove and scatter their way out of the building, rushing around like frightened mice. It was sad, you thought. You wanted to act, to fight, but fear kept you frozen in place as everyone disappeared. The smoke and heat of the room made it barely breathable, but you shielded your eyes from the smoke and covered your mouth with your sleeve.

The panicked footsteps soon dwindled down, everyone already fleeing down the stairs. And there you stood, frozen in place like a rock. Thinking back on it makes you feel completely useless, but fear makes you react in such strange ways.

A large chunk of ceiling fell directly in front of you, your feet launching you out of the way before your brain realized what happened. Dust and smoke filtered into your lungs as you narrowly dodged the debris.

You began to stagger your way towards the exit, until you saw two shadows appear in the doorway. Fuck. They grew closer with each passing moment, and you threw yourself beneath a random desk, curling yourself inwards in attempts to hide yourself. Your breathing was raspy due to all the smoke inhalation, but remained silent as the footsteps echoed.

“That fucker isn’t even here.” You heard a deep rasp, sounding like he was losing his voice. You flinched when you heard the desk creek above you, turning your head slowly to notice that someone was resting against it. Luckily, the cubicle shielded you from their presence, or else you’d be screwed.

“The message will still be received.” You heard a second voice, which sounded much higher pitched than the first. “It’s only a matter of time before the Hero regimen is brought to their knees.” They snickered, high pitched and eerie.

You covered your mouth, squeezing back a cough that rumbled in your chest.

“The sooner the better.” The first voice spoke, which you now recognized as Dabi, the Blue Flame. His boots now eye level with you, with even one small move you would’ve been able to touch him.

His unprovoked murderers made headlines a few weeks earlier, and you remember reading all about them. He burned his victims beyond recognition, turning them into a pile of bones and dust. It made you sick, and you could only keep quiet and remain still. You could only guess that the second voice belonged to Shigaraki, the leader of the League Of Villains. Fuck. You really were going to die here.

“We need to get out of here before more show up.” Dabi said, pushing upright from the desk, his jacket swayed in your view. You figured that the Heroes would be pouring through the door at any second now, but you weren’t counting on it, nor were you eager to jump out from the desk.

Shigaraki mumbled something in return that you didn’t quite catch, and you heard the heavy sounds of their booted feet fade off. You weren’t entirely jumping at the thought of getting caught, so you decided to wait a few moments before regrouping with everyone else.

You let out a shaky breath, removing your hand from your dry lips.

Your eyes opened once again, blinking a few times to remove any dust or smoke stuck in them. But fuck, you really wished you hadn’t. There was a soft sound of crunching gravel that rang out beside you, instantly making your blood run cold. Your eyes darted to follow the sound and as soon as you lifted your gaze from the floor, you noticed a pair of bright blue eyes staring back into your frightened ones. You noticed that he smirked when he noticed your frightened expression, burnt lips carving upwards at your quivering form. Immediately, you let out a cry of surprise and skidded out from underneath the desk.

“Well, well. Hello there, doll.” Dabi watched you from above. At this angle, he towered over you, watching you with gleaming eyes. Even though you were flat on your ass and resting against your palms, he was enormous. “Thought I wouldn’t notice ya’ down there?” He chuckled.

You watched him with studying eyes, noting that he hadn’t made a move to grab or burn you. For some reason you expected to be killed on sight, but Dabi seemed to take interest in you. No . He was more interested in making you feel nervous - powerless even. His eyes running down your slim body, watching in excitement as you squirmed uncomfortably. You weren’t wearing your Hero uniform, which made him wonder why you hadn’t escaped like everyone else.

He laughed to himself. Poor little girl, left to die by the Heroes.

Finally, you broke eye contact from the charred man, trailing your eyes around him in search of an escape route. You didn’t know if he’d get bored soon and decide to light you up, but you certainly didn’t want to make any impulsive moves. It seems like Shigaraki left already, and you were thankful that you only had to deal with one League member.

“Are you mute or somethin’?” His head tilted to the side as he scanned you over, his patchwork face pondering in thought.

Dabi felt bored at your unresponsiveness, his smirk dropping and eyes glazing over. His hands fidgeted inside his pockets, debating on what he was going to do with you. You inched back slightly, noticing the shift in his demeanor.

Your hands raised instinctively to cover your face, expecting to feel the flash of heat and the flesh peel off your bones. But you didn’t, instead feeling a rush of air around you. Out of fear, you must’ve activated your quirk without thinking too much, because Dabi was no longer standing in front of you.

Your ears barely registered the sound of his strangled grunt as he collided with a half burnt desk. Not wasting any time pushing yourself up to your shaky feet, throwing yourself out of the cubicle and towards the exit. You didn’t even bother to look back at the scarred Villain, who was staggering back to his feet, letting out a frustrated growl at your sudden attack. You lunged for the door, throwing yourself out of it and down the flights of stairs.

Dabi coughed as dust particles surrounded him, his breathing deepening with rage as he watched your frightened figure stumble out of the room. Your little surprise move pissed him off - almost as much as the realization he had that you were a Hero.

Your head shook and you brushed off the incident that still lingered in your mind. While you were terrified, you managed to act quickly and get out safely. Endeavor praised you for this, which felt good, but you were just thankful that you didn’t turn into a pile of burnt flesh.

“For fucks sake.” You mumbled as you picked up another magazine, seeing a picture of yourself covered in dust, outfit torn in questionable places, and your hair a mess -on the cover .

‘(Hero Name)! Narrowly Escapes The Blue Flame!’

That wasn’t so bad… Maybe Endeavor threatened the poor woman into being nice. You thought, before your eyes roamed over the smaller print beneath the title.

“Find out how (Hero Name) seduced her way out of death on page six!”

You threw the magazine blindly behind you, letting out a long sigh. You should have known, these tabloids twisted the truth and made Heroes and Sidekicks look terrible. You couldn’t believe that people actually believed this shit. Luckily enough, no one was killed in the incident, but you knew that if the League wanted there to be casualties, there definitely would have been. You only escaped due to your quick thinking and Dabi’s lack of attention, which worked out in your favor.

“Fucking bitch.” You grumbled, letting your head drop onto the armrest.

You were so lost in thought that you barely heard the front door close shut, along with the soft footsteps of someone making their way inside. You didn’t move when you finally clued in, instead you called out blindly, voice muffled by the cushion of the couch.

“Really not in the mood tonight, Fuyumi!” Your voice cracked as you called out towards her, expecting her cheerful response at your dismissive tone, but all you heard was silence. The footsteps stopped, and instead of the soft voice of your best friend, you heard a short chuckle.

“Not enjoying the Hero life, doll?”

Letting out a surprised squeak, you jolted upright at the raspy voice, eyes widening and darting towards the rough sound. To say that it surprised you would be an understatement - it terrified you and made you freeze immediately, similar to how you were at the Agency. It frightened you even more when you watched his lazy eyes trail over your form, which was wearing nothing but a pair of PJ shorts and an ill-fitting tank top.

Almost as if he could sense the urgency that flowed in your veins, telling you to run - he took a step closer to you, studying your reactions. So many questions ran through your brain, how did he get in? Why was he here? But you decided to refrain from hammering questions out, instead shifting your focus to distracting him like you had previously done.

“Why are you here?” You decided this was a decently safe question, turning yourself to fully face the scarred man as your eyes drifted to the front door for a brief moment. It was closed again, and if you were to try and run past him, you’d risk being fried to a crisp. If you were smart about this, then you’d be able to-

“Go ahead and try it.” He interrupted your thoughts, pulling your attention back to his lopsided grin, which looked menacing as it tugged on his staples. “I can promise that ya’ won’t make it very far.” His hand extended, lighting up a small blue flame at the tips of his fingers.

Dabi watched as you looked up at him: your big eyes widened, eyebrows furrowed, and full lips parted open. Fuck. He wanted to pounce on you right then and there, but decided to restrain himself. He needed to take his time with this, since his last interaction with you resulted in him being thrown off guard and flat on his ass. He didn’t even think that you had a Quirk - assuming that you were just some mousy little secretary. Until he was shot back from your cowering form, landing hard on a pile of burnt and broken desks. It surprised him, but it also pissed him off. You lingered in the back of his head for days after, which only pissed him off more. He knew that he could melt the pretty skin right off your bones, but for once, he didn’t want to. He wanted to savor this. He was prepared this time, and he wasn’t going to let you escape from him again. No. Not this time.

The look on Dabi’s face made you squirm, itching to get away from his gaze. He lazily glanced over at his flame before closing his fist. His hand reached down and into the pocket of his oversized coat, searching for something you couldn’t see.

You can sense the threatening turn that this was about to take, and on instinct, you pushed your hands out, trying to activate your Quirk. Anything to get him away from you. But he was quicker and stronger, even without his quirk.

He knew that you were going to try and pull the same stunt, but unlike last time, he was prepared for it. In less than a second, Dabi launched himself forward, catching you off guard with his speed.

“Heh. That’s not going to work this time, doll.” Dabi launched himself forward with a sound that could only be compared to a growl of a hungry animal. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them against your lap in a matter of seconds, leering over you. His one knee was sandwiched between your thighs, while his foot was still placed on the ground, using it to balance himself over you.

You let out a sharp cry as he pulled out what looked like a syringe from his jacket. Instantly, your eyes widened and you fought in his hold, twisting and squirming. Your lungs fought for air at the sight of the needle, igniting your flight or fight response.

“Don’t fight me. It’s a pain in the ass.” He rasped, seemingly unfazed by your weak attempts to push him off. You were no match for him, but he wanted to scare you a little, so he heated up his palms slightly, warning you to stop.

The heat rushed from your wrists and all the way up to your cheeks, flushing you into stilling.

“What are you doing!” You cried out.

“Can’t have you ruining my plans with that annoying quirk of yours.” He grumbled before plunging the needle into your bicep. The pain was jolting, but the feeling of your quirk leaving your body was much worse. You had grown familiar with the constant sense of your quirk lingering in your veins, and now that it was gone, you were terrified. Was it going to come back?

“I- What!” Your eyes met his, which had deep bag-like scars under them, held in place by makeshift staples. His eyes were bright and blue, but looked as if they never opened quite fully. Scars seemed to liter his entire body, only small portions of his actual skin poked through. He can’t handle his quirk, you thought.

Dabi felt a shiver of pleasure run down his spine when you looked over his patch-work face, knowing immediately that the sight of him made you uncomfortable. He was used to people shriveling up in disgust at his face, it was nothing new. But this was different. He felt a sense of heat rush all over his body at your confused face, instead of the usual annoyance.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, shattering the silence around you two.

You cringed back in displeasure, the smell of him overwhelming you now. Smoke and burnt flesh singing the hair in your nose.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You managed to calm your nerves slightly, but not by much. Dabi was still leaning over you, making you curl up against the back of the armrest. You didn’t like being caged in like this, and you most definitely didn’t like how he peered down at you.

“Your cooperation would be nice, but either way, I’m going to enjoy this.” Dabi answered your question without actually giving you a clear response. The sense of danger only amplified when you watched his lips curl upwards in a manic like smile. You were sure that his staples would have popped out if he opened his mouth any more. You could see them visibly strain, struggling to keep the healthy skin connected to the scarred tissue.

“Is this because of what happened at the Agency?” You asked, breathlessly moving your attention from his scars to his eyes again. You didn’t want to piss him off more by staring too long at them. Dabi wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were staring at his scars, but could care less. He was used to people staring at him with disgust, and he grew numb to it.

Dabi let out a scoff. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Why? I was just-”

Dabi leered closer to you, making you flinch and stop talking. “Just being an annoying brat? Thinking that you’re better than me because you’re a Hero?” He spat the word out like it disgusted him to even think, let alone speak it.

Granted, you knew subconsciously that you were better than a murdering psychopath, but decided it would get you nowhere good if you fought that. You weren’t too keen on the idea of dying prematurely, especially by his flames or whatever else he had in store for you.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, brows furrowing in annoyance. “Sit back and take it?” You regretted the words as soon as you said them, watching as Dabi smirked down at you with a borderline lustful gaze. “I didn’t want to die. My body reacted on impulse, that's it.” You quickly corrected yourself.

You thought you could buy yourself some time by asking him questions, maybe even distracting him so that you could escape. You knew he was unhinged and wondered if there was a way to use that to your advantage.

“Why does it matter? You burned down half of the Agency and the League still made the cover of every newspaper in Japan.” You found yourself getting angry at the reminder. “You’re lucky that Endeavor wasn’t there. You would’ve been-” Your voice morphed into a scream as soon as you mentioned the Flame Hero. The sudden searing heat of his hands make your back arch up and into the Villain, chest brushing against his stapled flesh. He was barely using his quirk, but even the small amount made your skin singe.

“You think that flaming pile of shit scares me?” Dabi sneered at you, bringing his face level to yours. You stilled when Dabi pressed himself tighter against you, his nose only inches from your own. You realized that you had either struck a nerve by mentioning Endeavor, or that he just really hated Heroes that much. You had assumed the latter, but could tell there was more to it by his reaction. Dabi’s eyes were filled with rage, but the rage wasn’t all directed at you.

“He’s just another empty Hero that the world praises for nothing. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ripped off that pedestal.” You flinched back at his words, knowing that there was definitely some sort of vendetta between the two flame users.

As scared as you were, you still felt somewhat angered by the Villains words. Endeavor had been nothing but kind to you, seemingly taking you under his wing when you joined his Agency. It was either your pride that made you say the next words, or your own naivety. You didn’t know which one it was.

“Endeavor is twice the man you’ll ever be.”

You watched as Dabi’s turquoise eyes narrowed, meeting them as yours widened at his furious expression. If his flames weren’t hot enough, his stare sure was. Dabi’s eyes were blazing with fury, seemingly darkening from their usual brightness. He watched you carefully, weighing his next options. He realized that you were just as surprised at your words as he was, your eyes widening for a moment before glossing over in attempts to hide it. Cute. He could feel you quivering beneath him, fearing what he would do next.

Despite the swell of pride you felt for a brief moment, you could quickly feel the overwhelming sense of anxiety push forward. Fuck. At this point, you didn’t really care what happened to you. All you wanted was to get away from his terrifying presence.

Dabi let his guard down for a mere second, maybe even less, and you immediately took advantage of it. Your wrists twisted apart and out of Dabi’s grip, freeing you for a moment from his suffocating grip. Your next move was on instinct; you ball up your fist before winding it back and sending it crashing into his nose.

Blood immediately gushed from Dabi’s nose, running down his mismatched lips and down his neck. He staggered backwards from the force of your punch, letting out a guttural growl as he wiped the sticky liquid away.

Again, you wasted no time in throwing yourself over the back of the couch, landing on all fours and scrambling towards the front door. You pumped your shaky legs as fast as they could handle, stumbling as you ran for freedom. You were nearing the kitchen when a blast of sudden heat licked up the back of your thighs, making you shriek in agony and crumple to the hardwood. Your body sprawled out on the cool ground, which was a stark contrast to your clammy and sizzling skin.

You glanced down at your awkwardly bent legs, seeing the skin begin to redden and sizzle. It wasn’t a fatal burn, but it was one you’d surely remember since the blisters would definitely scar. The pain was too much and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you still tried to drag yourself away.

Dabi followed behind you, taking his time as he watched your pathetic attempts at crawling away. He wanted you to have your little moment of hope, afterall, you were going to wish that you were dead after he was done with you.

He took his time stalking towards you, his rubber soles thudding against the flooring - purposely being slow to hammer more fear into you. He watched your body shake violently from his attack, your face contorting up in anguish as you tried to push yourself up. Dabi could feel himself getting hard as he approached your struggling form. He felt mildly proud, considering you had him in a similar position not too long ago.

Smiling wickedly, he planted his booted foot on your back and shoved you back down to the ground. “You can’t run from me.”

Your chin met the floor with a sickening crack, eliciting another wave of pleasure down Dabi’s spine at your pained groan. Your body wavered as you felt a droplet of something wet and sticky hit your cheek, directly beneath your eyes.

“You broke my fucking nose, doll. You’re lucky to still be breathin’ after that.” Dabi chucked, wiping the remnants of his blood from his nose. He relished in your look of disgust when his blood hit your face, seeing the humiliation build up across your pretty face.

Shakily, you wiped his blood from your face, cringing as he stared back at you. Your teeth gritted together so hard that you thought they’d shatter if any more pressure were applied. Everything was too much; the throbbing in your legs, your quirk being suppressed, Dabi’s taunting gaze, everything. Hatred mixed with hot rage seeped into your blood, making your body vibrate with adrenaline.

“Weak flames compared to Endeavor.” You hissed roughly, large eyes glaring up at him in spite.

Dabi ignored the rage that traveled up his body at your words, knowing that you were doing this just to piss him off. Stupid little Hero. You were powerless, weak, and humiliated, but still fought with a sense of pride. He was going to break down that pride of yours, no matter what. He thought as he bent down, fingers lacing through your tousled hair and jerking your face towards his. If you thought pissing him off was going to save you, you were very wrong. Your words only solidified what he was about to do next.

“Let go of me!” Dabi used your hair as leverage to get you onto your knees, pulling another shocked cry as your hands shot up to your scalp. The stinging of your thighs amplified in this position, and you awkwardly balanced to lessen the pain.

“I think I have a better use for that mouth of yours.” Dabi’s hand jolted you forwards before releasing your scalp. You hadn’t realized how much you were relying on his grip to keep you steady, because your knees suddenly wobbled and you fell face-first into the bulge of his jeans, letting out a strangled moan as you did.

Dabi let out a low groan at the feeling of your face pressing into the tent of his jeans. Your hands pressed into his thighs to push yourself upright as your face scrunched up in disgust at the sudden contact. Dabi shuddered while he watched you try and pull away, only to find yourself pressed into his groin again when his hands pulled you back.

You gasped in shock, not expecting the force of his hand to smush you back into his crotch. The tip of your nose dug into his length, feeling it twitch slightly at the contact. You mewled, senses overwhelmed at the feeling.

There was something about the way your eyes squinted and you recoiled back in disgust that drove him mad. A weak little Hero like you needed to learn your place, and what better way would you learn than at the knees of a Villain like him? He wanted to humiliate you in the worst way possible, just like you did with him.

“Oh come on, doll. Don’t tell me a Hero slut like you never sucked cock before?” He snickered down at you.

You scowled at him in return, peeling yourself away from his crotch to look up at him with reddening cheeks. Try as you might, you couldn’t hide the blush that stung at your pale skin.

“Awe. You’re getting shy on me now, dollface? Where’d that spunk go?” Dabi released your hair, fiddling with his belt before pulling out his cock. It sprung out and nearly smacked you in the cheek, narrowly missing as you turned your head away.

“Get the fuck away from me, patchwork!” You hissed, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes.

Dabi watched you with half-lidded eyes, jutting his hips outwards to smack you in the face with his cock. “I’m gonna make sure to force that attitude out of you.” The tip of his dick pressed against your lips, smearing a trail of salty precum all over.

It was long and thick, bigger than any other you’ve seen. You didn’t want Dabi to think that you were taken back by it, so you kept your face as blank as you could in this position. Your lips pressed tightly in a thin line, refusing entrance.

At your reluctance, Dabi tapped his foot against the ground and tilted your jaw up with a single finger. “Open up or I’ll burn you again.”

You frowned, swallowing hard before parting your lips for him. Dabi’s eyes wandered across your face, noting how good you looked with your beady eyes and mouth wide open for him.

You didn’t have much time to think, because Dabi jerked his hips, his cock grazing against your teeth as he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged instantly, fresh tears pooling at your lash line as you tried to relax your throat.

“Shit.” He rasped, head tilting back at the feeling of your throat constricting around him.

You could feel him twitch against the back of your throat, making you gag once again. The tip of your nose flat against his pubic bone, sucking in as much air as you could handle in this position. Your muffled mewls sent Dabi into a frenzy, who gave you no time to adjust before he started to buck his hips. Your hands flew up to his thighs, grounding yourself as you tried not to throw up.

“Damn. You’re shaking around my cock, you must really be scared, huh?” Dabi rasped above you, his voice dropping a few decibels at the sight of your teary eyes.

You choked in response, trailing your tongue along his length. He didn’t necessarily taste bad, but the lingering sweat and precum tasted salty on your buds. With your mouth stuffed completely, you couldn’t hold back the drool that spilled out and down your chin.

“That’s it. I knew there was something useful for that mouth of yours.” Dabi brushed the hair out of your eyes, side eyeing you as you groaned around him. The vibrations shot up through your throat, sending a wave of pleasure around him.

You quickly tore your gaze away from his, focusing on the scarred skin of his stomach instead. You hated this and you would’ve bit him if you weren’t so frightened of the repercussions that would’ve certainly followed.

Dabi watched you with lazy eyes, peering down at you with a look that could only be compared to a predator stalking its prey. With each thrust of his hips he felt your throat clench around him, wet noises mixing in sync with your terrified sobs. You were a beautiful sight, even with your mascara running down your cheeks and snot coming out of your nose. He hated to admit it, but he had to focus hard on not shooting his load down your tight little throat.

“There’s no need to be shy.” He rasped, breathlessly before pulling himself out with a plop. A thick trail of spit connected your lips and the tip of his cock. You gulped back air and sputtered, furiously wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Dabi smirked as you fell back onto your ass with a hiss. He knew you were probably thinking that he would let you go now, or at least praying for it. Silly girl. He wasn’t nearly finished with you.

He bent down to your level, stuffing himself back into his pants. You were angry and disgusted, the light in your eyes darkening when you met his gaze. The instinct to run was back again, and you were fighting against your natural nervous system's desire to flee.

It was endearing Dabi thought, but futile. Your eyes darting to the door for a moment gave your intentions away. He made quick work to grab you before you could even blink, letting out a deep chuckle at your surprised reaction.

His hands wrapped around your hips and hoisted you over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden movement, laying uncomfortably across his shoulder as he moved towards what you would guess was your bedroom.

“You got what you wanted! Leave now!” Your naivety was cute, almost entertaining in a sick sense. You knew deep down that he hadn’t gotten his fill. Villains were greedy after all and he wanted everything you had to offer.

You bucked against him, only earning a quick slap of your thighs in response. Dabi stalked into your bedroom, opening the door and throwing you down onto the mattress. You bounced slightly and curled up into the headboard, while he peeled back his jacket and shirt at the edge of your bed. You could barely see him in the darkness, his face staples barely reflecting the moonlight that peaked through the curtains.

“Please. Please don’t do this. I- I don’t want this.” Your lower lip quivered and you felt embarrassed to be begging him. You were supposed to be a Hero; brave and strong until the very end. But watching Dabi strip in front of you made your bravery shrivel up and shred into a million pieces.

“That’s too bad, doll. I want this, so I’m going to take this.” Dabi grabbed ahold of your ankle, tearing you away from the headboard and flat onto your back. You kicked your other leg, trying to hit the side of his head with your heel. Dabi expected this, catching your other ankle and pinning it down. Your legs were spread open, leaving room for him to rest between.

He crawled up to your level, watching carefully as you turned your head to the side to avoid looking at his hideous face. “You’re not going anywhere this time.” He hummed, breathing into your neck as you tried to buck him off.

His lips were rough against the soft skin of your neck, working down to nip where your neck met your shoulders. You tried to distance yourself from the moisture of his mouth, but his body kept you trapped. You bit on your lip at the feeling, which sent tingles all the way to your toes.

“Stop. Get off!”

Dabi’s hand traveled down to the hem of your shorts, toying with the thin material before ripping them off in a shift motion. Your panties followed suit, exposing your core to the cool air. Instead of throwing your panties on the ground with your pants, he brought the material up to his nose before sniffing. His eyes closed and he let out a deep sigh at your scent, like it was the best thing he had ever smelt. Your jaw dropped in a mix of shock and pure repulsion. You kicked and slammed your fists against his chest, but your efforts were fruitless.

“You can fight me all you want, but I’m the only one with the real power here.” He pulled away from your neck to look into your tearful eyes, lowering himself slowly between your legs again. “Remember that the next time you parade yourself around the press.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, draping one up and over his shoulder. The cool metal of his staples skimmed across your flesh, his hands keeping you planted in place.

“What are - no!” Your mind raced as you tried to scoot back from his head, which rested between your legs.

Your breathing stunted as you shook your head adamantly, your palms pressed flat at your sides as you tried to resist. His hands stopped you before you got anywhere, keeping you pinned to the mattress while he dropped his head lower, watching you with slitted eyes.

“It’s only fair that I return the favor, doll.” You were about to cry out, but quickly clamped your mouth shut when you felt his breath against your weeping cunt. The thought of accidentally moaning or gasping at his head buried against you was enough to scare you into biting your tongue.

Dabi’s bright eyes shifted from your chest, which rose and fell quickly, and down to your cunt. His fingers dipped down to spread you further apart, blowing softly on the glistening skin. He could feel his erection press tightly against his pants, but knew that he needed to take his time. You were going to regret ever standing up from that desk at the Agency. He was going to make sure of it.

He licked his lips, giving you no time to protest as he rubbed his nose from your little hole to your clit. Your thighs tensed around his shoulder, digging your heel into his back. He grinned, watching as your hands tangled into the sheets. Sensitive. He barely even started.

You suddenly felt his tongue, which was unnaturally hot just like the rest of him. He lapped at your hole, gathering the slick that quickly bloomed and dragging it up and towards your clit. The wet muscle circled around a few times, hitting every sensitive spot he could find. Your hands gripped the sheets in attempts of grounding yourself, but it did little in blocking out the wet sounds that reached your ears.

There was nothing you could do to stop him when his finger slid into you, meeting little resistance at your sopping hole. Your back arched, the sound of his tongue licking and sucking at your clit sending your brain into a frenzy. The noises were lewd and exaggerated, giving you no mind to picture yourself elsewhere. Anywhere but here. You thought.

“Nuh!” Your hand slapped over your mouth when the moan slipped out, realizing the mistake you made immediately.

Dabi paused to glance up at you, watching you with a crooked gaze. Your terrified pupils were blown wide, lips curling back in disgust. He continued to watch you when he curled his finger, pressing directly into that spongy spot of your walls. Another mewl rumbled in your throat and you tossed your head into the sheets.

“Not so tough now, eh? And here I thought you’d have a little more fight in ya’, but you’re too busy soaking my face.” He cooed, which only made his voice sound even more raspy.

He pulled his finger out slowly, savoring in the way you gushed and clamped down on it, almost like your cunt knew that it needed to be filled. He pushed it back in, curling upwards before repeating the same motions. Over and over, he twisted and pulled his fingers, pumping them in and out.

You moaned louder this time, clenching your thighs around his head and arching your chest. The back of your mind screamed in protest, begging for the assault to stop. Your limbs felt like mush, unable to do much except squirm.

“Right there? Is that it?”

He repeated the movement a few more times as his mouth latched back onto your throbbing clit. Dabi could feel your resolve dwindle away with each passing stroke of his tongue, seeing your fists loosen and lips part open in pleasure. Your reactions spurred him on, knowing that you were close to cumming.

His cock strained behind the confinements of his jeans, still rock hard from earlier. It was pure anguish, but he knew what needed to be done. He would only have to wait a little longer… Just a little.

“Oh my.” You whimpered.

Dabi’s tongue swirled as his finger pumped in and out of you, sending you over the edge with a final cry. Your cunt gushed over his face, taking both you and him by surprise when the clear liquid squirted out suddenly. You could feel yourself clenching down on his finger, squeezing the appendage tightly as you squealed.

Dabi licked up everything he could, giving your clit one last flick as he lifted himself from your dripping heat. “Fuck doll, I didn’t think you’d take that so literal.” He wiped his face with his hands, smiling down at you.

You blushed furiously as your slick ran down his cheeks and jaw. You didn’t know which was worse, the fact that you had squirted all over him or that you had never done that before. You felt rage that he forced you to orgasm, let alone from his disgusting mouth .

Your body relented, heavy breaths leaving your cracked lips. You had been so lost in your head that you never realized Dabi lining his cock up with your hole. “No! Get off of me!” Your hands slammed into his chest, pushing against his scars.

“Relax, waterworks.” He taunted, shooting you a singular glare before pinning your wrists above your head.

Despite the slick that stuck against your thighs and ass, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you to the max. Your eyebrows shooting up when you felt him run it along your folds, gathering your arousal before prodding at your hole.

“Dabi! Just give me a sec-” Your breathing hitched when he slammed into you, eyes wide and unseeing as your head flew back into the bed. Your throat let out another piercing shriek at the sudden intrusion. The sheer size of him made your insides burn up, sending a painful twist inside your gut.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “Should’ve bent you over the desk when I first saw ya’, didn’t realize you’d be this tight.” Dabi’s eyes rolled back as he closed them, savoring the feeling of your tight, wet heat that clamped on him like a vice.

You cringed back, shutting your eyes and grinding your teeth.

Dabi rolled his hips, focusing on stuffing you full. You hissed, feeling his cock brush against your cervix. Despite the searing pain, your body was growing accustomed to his size. You could hear the faintest sound of your slick pussy squishing around him.

“Oh fuck. You’re suffocating.” Dabi bent down towards you, focusing his attack on your lips. You realized this and at the last second, turned your head away. He didn’t mind, instead focusing on peppering kisses and licks on your cheek and neck.

Tears welled up in your eyes when you felt his tongue lick at your cheek. You twisted your body, trashing in his hold in attempts to throw him off. This barely fazed him, only making him heat up his palms to get you to still.

“What would your Hero friends say if they saw you now, doll? Pinned under a Villain; squirming and cumming all over me?” Dabi teased, dropping his pelvis onto yours to hit deeper.

Your jaw slacked open at the new angle. A sudden burst of pleasure traveling up your cunt and to your head. In response, your jaw dropped to let out a low-whiny moan. You wanted to scream at him, but couldn’t find the courage to speak. You felt powerless in the situation, hiccuping and moaning as he drilled into you.

“There it is. Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck. Dabi- ” He shuddered when you moaned his name, feeling his core tighten at the soft whimpering of your voice. Your brows furrowed, desperately trying to fight the feelings that he was delivering with each stroke of his cock.

“Shit. Look at you, doll. Such a pretty sight.” Dabi felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when his cock bottomed out inside you. Your tight gummy walls were sucking him in, squeezing him to a point that was almost painful. He never realized that you’d be this much of a slut; so easy and wet, begging to be taken.

Your eyes rolled back. You were so close, and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You just wanted to focus on the pleasure, not the person that was delivering it to you. He knew instantly what you were trying to do; dropping your wrists and grabbing ahold on your peaked nipple. He gave it a sharp twist, drawing out a sharp cry as he tugged on the hardened bud.

“Stay with me.” Your hands flew to his shoulders, steadying yourself with his forceful pace. The pads of your fingers traced along his staples before quickly retreating.

Dabi chuckled, “You can touch them, they don’t hurt.” He moved your arms back over his shoulders, planting them against the textured skin. You whined and shuddered at the feeling of his skin. Every one of your senses were at their max, so sensitive and alert.

“D-dabi!” You mewled like a kitten, dragging your nails down his back when his fingers began to assault your clit again.

“Ah- would you look at that?” Dabi hovered his hand in front of your face, scissoring his index and middle finger to show you the slick that connected the two digits.

If you weren’t so wound up in the sensation of his cock dragging up and down your walls you would’ve hit him. You only squinted at him, earning a dark chuckle that reverberated against your chest.

The familiarity of tightness coiled back in your gut, snapping immediately when you saw him lick his fingers clean. The crudeness of his action sent your body over the edge and made you scream out. Your walls fluttered, causing him to drop his hand next to your head for support as his body twitched.

“There you go.” He hissed.

You were glad that your orgasm made your eyes roll back, because the look on Dabi’s face would have humiliated you more. He grinned manically, his smile stretching wide enough for him to feel his staples strain to hold the skin together. Your tongue lolling out and drool dribbling down the sides of your jaw was enough to make him peak.

Your body continued to convulse as he painted your walls white, his cum burning your insides as he filled you.

“Oh god.” You wanted to protest, but couldn’t.

“Fuck!” He moaned loud, slowing his pace before pulling out.

You twitched at the loss of contact, head tilting to rest on the bed as your arms fell from his shoulders. The feeling of his cum slipping out of your abused hole made you tingle, bringing your knees up to curl into a ball.

“You got what you wanted, now leave.” You managed to whisper, not looking in his direction as he wiped his dick on the sheets of your bed before tucking himself back into his pants.

His belt clicked as he tightened it back up. “What I wanted eh? Weren’t you the one who came twice? I don’t think we're even just yet, doll.” Dabi closed in on you, dropping beside you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your back against his chest.

You let him guide your exhausted body into his heated one, realizing that there was no point in fighting in your current condition. “We’re just getting started.” He cooed into your ear, nose burying into your matted locks.

2K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

What fanfic tropes do you think Deku, Bakugo, Kirishima and Shoto would fit best?

You know I'm a big fan of fic tropes, writing this is gonna be a lot of fun.

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, rivals to lovers, fighting, proposal, arguments, pining, crushes, protectiveness, developing feelings

A/N: BNHA gets more and more wild every season and with every season I feel like I need to write more fluff cause these characters just keep going through it you know.

Deku is PINING over you from the moment your eyes meet on the first day of school. He might have his new Quirk but damn is he hopeless when it comes to romance. He sees you looking at him, he knows you want to spend time with him, but he's just too shy to admit what he's feeling. Not even on missions where its just the two of you. He ends up having problems with his Quirk too because his hormones are going all over the place because of you. Its really getting to be a problem that needs solving fast. Just as soon as he finds the right words. Soon, yeah, he'll confess to you soon.

Bakugo is your RIVAL and the class bad boy so you and he do not get along whatsoever. You're always trying to one up each other, training and missions alike, and with you both being hot heads it results in quite a few arguments that end up with you both screwing things up. Everyone can see the tension between you, everyone but the two of you because you're so wrapped up in your rivalry. It takes you being literally locked in a gym room to get your feelings out in the open. But boy does it not get much better, now every argument just escalates to a hot and heavy and angry make out session.

Shoto has a CHACE MEETING with you while working at his dad's agency. He didn't expect a student from another school here but its a welcome change, and distraction, from having to be here and be frustrated with himself and his old man. He likes that you don't try to pry too much in why he doesn't like Endeavor, and that you don't treat him like he's special just because he has a double Quirk. Furthermore you provide him with a nice challenge and good company, pretty smiles and the occasional wink that makes his stomach burst with butterflies and his face grow hotter then ever before. Perhaps it was a good thing he chose to come here after all.

Kirishima is your CHILDHOOD FRIEND and you've both had crushes on each other for the longest time, promised to marry when you were kids too. He took that promise to heart, wanting to become a man worthy of a girl like yourself. He is very protective of you, taking the hits for you if he can... despite secretly loving to see kicking ass. But he wants to show you how tough he is, how he can take it all and get back up no problem. You trade the smallest of kisses on New Years, and to your surprise he asks you to marry him again, looking a lot more serious this time around.

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meazalykov · 8 days

Text

Joao Felix is in love

joao felix x reader

headcannons and how you guys came to be <3

warnings: a few mentions of 18+ endeavors but nothing detailed.

❀⋆ The first time Joao met you, he didn’t care about you. That is harsh, considering most relationships have a good start, but he was under the spell of his ex-girlfriend. The Atletico player didn’t want to let her go after many scandalous events. You found the Portuguese boy attractive plus he had a shy and confident aura. After a few months, accepting that he might not like you as much as he loves Magui, you left him alone entirely.

❀⋆ A year later in summer 2023, Joäo was at his lowest. He left Chelsea after a six month loan to go back to Atletico. Meanwhile, you finished your Bachelors degree in Humanities at the University of Madrid. When the Portuguese arrived in the Spanish capital, Atletico’s coach made him train with youth teams. In a careless response, Joao received tons of hate in the media for expressing how Barcelona, a rival club, was his childhood dream club. Atletico fans didn’t appreciate this at all and harassed him until he was aware. Magui left him in the dark for Lando Norris at the same time. You had no idea this was happening, since you forgot about Joäo to focus on your last year of college. One day, a mutual friend of yours and Joaos told you how bad he was doing mentally. The care and kindness in your heart felt torn as you searched Joao's name on twitter and saw the flood of hate tweets about him. You couldn’t handle it, so you reached out to Joäo offering support. You still cared about him after a year of cutting contact from him.

❀⋆ Joäo didn’t realize how much he missed you until you started talking to him again. In return, he talked to you constantly afterwards. He always listened and smiled at what you had to say. At first, he was scared to admit that he had feelings for you. The Portuguese got cheated on by his ex and didn’t want to regret opening up his heart again. Don't worry, it didn’t take long to admit to himself that he grew feelings for you.

❀⋆ As I said before, he is a great listener when he isn’t distracted by his airpods. He will constantly pay attention to what you've talked about to him and what you repost on social media. He saw you had a folder dedicated to Blue Hydrangeas on Pinterest. A few days later, he bought you a ton of flowers (Blue Hydrangeas) along with other expensive things that you appreciated.

❀⋆ When you visited his house in Madrid for the first time, you met his dog that you’ve seen on social media, Floki. If you’re a dog person, you gladly took the boy into your arms as he ran to you at the front door. If you’re afraid of dogs, you’re hesitant to engage with the boy as he licked your ankle once for attention. Eventually, Joäo got you to hold Floki and your fear drifted away. Floki loves you so much and the Portuguese boy noticed this. Every time you went to Joäo’s house, the brown boy always laid on your lap and followed you like a personal guard dog around Joao’s house. Joao took note of this, realizing that Floki isn’t that clingy with him.

❀⋆ Barcelona accepted Joäo on a loan contract and you were excited for him. After he moved to Barcelona from Madrid, you were nervous. You were in love with him and didn’t want it to go to waste by his absence. He didn’t forget about you, once he settled into his new house he asked if you would come live with him. Some people might have hesitated in this position but you said yes. After graduating college in Madrid you wanted to move and experience living in a new city. Joäo asks you to officially be his girlfriend once you settle into his home. He mentioned that he couldn’t have a long distance relationship with you since he can’t imagine going days without seeing you. He makes you comfortable in your shared home.

❀⋆ The boy will always cater to anything you want since he moved you away from your old home. If you’re a cat person, you talked to Joäo about wanting to get a cat. Joäo supported your decision since he wanted Floki to have a friend when he had to travel for away games. At the adoption center, a young brown cat walked up to you and sat in your lap. The one year old cat was named “Brownie” by the shelter. Joäo and you loved Brownie and noted how her color matched Floki’s. Both of you adopted the cat and Floki loved her as soon as she stepped out of her cat carrier. This warmed your heart as you nearly cried in Joäo's arms.

❀⋆ Joäo has a set time for going to bed before training in the mornings or game days, which is midnight. You were nervous when you first moved in, considering that your sleep schedule isn't consistent. There are times where you're asleep before he gets to bed after playing FIFA and there are times where he's in a deep sleep by the time you get unready from the day and go to bed. Floki and Brownie are on the bed asleep every night beside you and the four of you sleep peacefully.

❀⋆ Love Language? It's physical touch for Joäo. He loves touching you. Sometimes his hand will be on your lower back when you're standing beside him. Every time he gives you a hug, he will ALWAYS kiss your forehead, neck, cheeks, or lips in the process. When you're sitting on your shared couch in the living room, he will lay his body on top of you and sometimes falls asleep on you. When you both have sex together, which is every night because you guys cannot keep your hands off of each other, he gives you so much praise and makes you melt.

❀⋆ One thing Joäo will accomplish doing is scaring you with small pranks. One day, you were recording a video in the living room for your job and Joäo was standing in the background with a creepy mask on. When you looked at the corner of your screen as you recorded yourself, you jumped as your heart was close to ripping out of your chest from seeing the figure in the background. Joäo started laughing loudly as he took off the mask to see your reaction. "Stop it Felix, that's not funny!" you say as he continues to laugh until he is begging for air.

❀⋆ When Joäo scores goals with Barcelona, he will make a symbol with his hands that point out the letter of your name. If you think that he can’t make a hand symbol with your first letter, he will do sign language that points out your letter. He is thinking about you always and always dedicates his goals to you, something he never really did with Magui. Fans noticed this after awhile and loved how much you made him happy.

❀⋆ One day, you had to leave Joäo for a few days since one of your siblings was expecting a child in Lisbon. After the successful delivery and getting to meet your niece/nephew, you decided to go to a Benfica game by yourself to occupy your time. After watching Benfica win, you meet Hugo Felix for the first time. He liked you for his older brother and noticed how easy it was to talk to you. Surprising Joäo, Hugo facetimed him and your face appeared on the screen as Joäo played FIFA in the living room in your Barcelona home. The boy blushed and was happy that Hugo met you. A few months before, Joao told Hugo how he feels about you and Hugo appreciates how much you’ve supported his big brother during his dark moments in summer 2023.

❀⋆ The Portuguese boy loves listening to music. He will blast music in the house, listen to music on his AirPods before big games, attends concerts with you, and more. He will listen to music genres that you love and usually enjoys it, even if it's music he hasn't listened to. Joäo wants to enjoy what you've enjoyed with music.

❀⋆ The public didn’t get a hold on your relationship with the Barcelona left-winger until Joao posted a story with you in it. This is seven months after you guys were official. Some fans didn’t know who you were so people dug through Joäo’s instagram following and saw your page with about 41k followers. Joäo’s fans were happy and started supporting you since they’re confident that you won’t cheat on him and he had a chance to move on from his ex.

❀⋆ Joäo is down bad for you and is happy that he can open up his heart for someone like you.

#fc barcelona #joao felix #joao cancelo #barcelona #barcelona spain #chelsea fc #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pablo gavi #fermin Lopez #Atletico #atletico madrid #joao felix x reader #joao felix imagine #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix smut #pau cubarsi #ronald araujo

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moth-mimic · 4 months

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Suffocating

‣ pairing: Legolas x Maid/Healer!reader

‣ words: 1639

‣ content: basically childhood friends, unbalanced power dynamic, Legolas is a littleee jealous and petty (as in like… a lot), Legolas being too clingy and a little questionable, suggestive near the end, pleading men <3

──────────────────

‣ summary: Legolas had chosen you to be by his side from first glance. Even before he could wield a bow, he saw through your status and deemed your soul the same as his. However, his affection for you can be a bit… suffocating.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Legolas had claimed you before he even knew your name. Call it fate if you will, but something indescribable had seized him the moment you were presented to his father. Like a ripe fruit you had been plucked from your cozy orphanage and displayed in front of the king. At the time you were not sure why you were in this place, a grand castle decorated with exquisite, flourishing fauna and marble cleaned so well it glinted in the sunlight, yet the prince very well knew. A nobody you were— simply an Elven child of mixed blood who had been found abandoned in Mirkwood’s forests— yet your excellence had soon shown itself in your healing. With a few whispered prayers and hands delicately placed, a wound could vanish within minutes. This is why you were here.

Mirkwood was exceptionally skilled in archery, but what was gained in one area was lost in another. The kingdom had healers, like many, yet none that could heal a wound with their own hands. So it was a surprise that you, an unassuming child, had been blessed with the gift of life. It did not take a council to decide that your gift must be fostered and taken care of like the most delicate sprout.

Although your skill was doted on, you, however, were not. You were an elf of mixed blood— the classic story of a rebellious Elven man who had seduced a human woman before vanishing for The Undying Lands was not unique. The story between an elf and human royalty was one that was respectable, yet this was not yours.

Although your royal guidance was intended to help you grow in your healing abilities, it became increasingly obvious your current job was not to heal the innocent. Instead, you were frequently assigned the task of assisting the prince after his rebellious endeavors. From healing his scraped knee after he hurled himself off a tree to even pouring his tea, you were practically his maid at this point.

However, Legolas did not see it as this— you did a lot for him, yes, but he found himself frequently getting into trouble and calling upon your help purposefully, simply longing for your care and attention. He did not have many other young elves to involve himself with, and you were perfectly fine as company. He even admired you, in fact, especially as he watched you use your healing gift on him. You both were taught basic skills such as how to wield a bow and how to analyze Elvish texts, yet you were oftentimes dragged away for additional training in your healing. Times like these he wondered if he was too dependent on you.

And now the prince, far past his coming-of-age ceremony, still wondered the same as he scanned the halls for your presence. His boots could be heard clicking against the pristine floor from even a man on the other side of the castle as he paced the area. Elves from Rivendell had arrived to discuss matters on the group of dwarves headed to reclaim their home from Smaug, and you were nowhere to be seen. Embarrassed to make his affection for you so obvious, he excused his worry as simply making sure you were not late to greet the guests.

“Y/N! Y/N, where in Middle-Earth have you wandered off to now?” He shouted, perhaps to himself. The maids rushing down the hallway did not give him a mere glance. His worry for you was not only typical, but also a frequent point of gossip. He let out a loud sigh and turned, frustrated, finally giving up in his search. He would definitely receive a scolding from his father at this point. Perhaps it would be worth it if only to share the burden of being late between the two of you. He hurriedly retraced his trail to the entrance of the castle, hoping the guests would still be there, yet he abruptly stopped as laughter floated through the halls.

He peered around the wall and outside into the garden, which held the source of the sound, and scowled at the sight he saw. You and one of the Rivendell elves— pale-skinned with hair various shades of hickory, undoubtedly one of Elrond’s sons— sitting on a bench and chatting— No, flirting. It was obvious with the way he was leaning into you, your face lit with joy at the jokes he charismatically threw. The sight was enough to make Legolas seethe with jealousy.

“Y/N.”

The unexpected sound of your name prompts you to jump a bit before looking towards the blond elf. You smile at the familiar face. “Legolas! Where have you been? The guests are already seated.”

“Well, that I would not know. I have been looking for you since I noticed your absence,” Legolas makes his way towards the two of you, eyeing the dark-haired elf as if he were goblin trash. “I see you have acquainted yourself with one of our dear guests.”

You rub the back of your neck apologetically, oblivious to the stare-down happening between the two. “Ah, I apologize. I was at the entrance long before they arrived, although I should have noticed you beforehand to ease your worries.”

Legolas is the first to break the glare, quickly changing his expression to one more gentle, more suitable to one as pure of heart as you. He crouches down to provide you comfort. “Of course. My worry for you is natural, yet it’s nothing to burden yourself with. May I?” The Elven prince takes your hand and holds it firm before you can even respond, almost as if the other may rip you away.

“Yes, but—“ You begin to protest as you look back towards the Rivendell elf, but he is the one to speak next.

“No worries, it is time we all join each other in the dining hall.” He huffs, clearly defeated. It is the prince of the kingdom he is visiting, after all.

And with that, Legolas guides you with him to the dining hall. The other merely trails behind in surrender.

With the rest of the night, Legolas is strangely distant. As you make your rounds offering tea to each elf, Legolas holds his hand over his teacup without so much as a simple “No, thank you.” Instead of contributing to the council like a respectable prince, he stays oddly silent and tightens his jaw in what seems to be annoyance. After a considerable time of him being obviously troubled about something, you follow his incomprehensible glare across the lengthy table to the elf you were speaking to earlier. You observe from the sidelines, expecting his glare to waver, yet it lingers. The other elf just seems to uncomfortably avoid eye contact. Even Thranduil notices enough to make an occasional irritated side glance at his son.

You simply excuse it as a harmless quarrel between princes.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the moon exudes her care across the darkened kingdom, Legolas can not seem to quiet his mind as he lays down to rest. His eyebrows tense and his chest tightens at the image of the Rivendell elf practically courting you, and you enjoying it. The thought of you being carried away back to Rivendell by this elf seemed none other than a nightmare. And perhaps it was still possible— the Rivendell group had settled for staying in the guest chambers tonight— perhaps he was making his way to your chamber at this moment. He would knock on your door, gently, as to not startle you, the way Legolas had done so many times before— you would answer, dressed in silk, hair ruffled by your pillowy sheets. In a heartbeat he would confess his attraction from the moment he saw you. You would fall into his arms and he would hold you, softly, as if the dream could break. You both would join lips in a passion, and soon enough you would be his.

And soon enough Legolas is making his way to your door— not too far of a journey, considering your chambers are right next to each other. He pauses for a moment, and two, before he gathers the courage to lightly knock on the wooden door. He awaits your presence, a burning inside his core threatening to swallow him whole. As he waits, his mind trails to his previous nightmare. Perhaps he is too late, he thinks, perhaps this is a mistake—

And soon enough you are there, in front of him, dressed in silk and your hair ruffled from your pillowy sheets. He stands there for a moment, silent and flustered.

“Well?” You sigh sleepily, rubbing your eyes at your interrupted slumber, “Are you alright?”

He sighs. With eagerness or longing you cannot tell. “Tell me you do not want him.” He bluntly states, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He grips both sides of your doorway, leaning towards you, keeping himself from joining you into an embrace. You can see his knuckles nearly turn white.

Your eyes are wide now, confused. “Who— sorry?”

“The Rivendell elf. You do not want him. He is an adventurer, he knows no home. He is not right for you, I assure you, he knows nothing about you. You are just a pretty face to him, but I— I…” He pauses, gasps for air as if he has almost drowned, and completely stops at a loss for words.

You stare at him a moment, his eyes wild and pleading. From the soft gazes he’s given you when teaching you how to correctly hold a bow to the seething glare you saw from him last night, this is unlike anything you’ve seen.

“Legolas…” you begin, but words cannot fathom what you want to say. Instead you lift your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his pointed ear, gazing at him with newfound vulnerability. The back of your hand trails down his neck before resting on his chest. “He is not the one I want.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

ok dang it’s like 1 am now. anyway sorry for cutting it off so abruptly I was starting to cringe a little and I just couldn’t do it. also thinking about adding 2 more parts to this but idk if I’ll have the motivation 🤕

#Spotify #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit

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kingtomura · 2 months

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Deja Vu | 1 | January Embers

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, bullying, eventual smut, eventual meaning next chapter, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, mdni wc: 4.5k | Chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

You meet Touya Todoroki when you are four years old.

He was a redhot firecracker that demanded the attention of you and all those around him.

Touya Todoroki was also the first in your class to have his quirk maifest. It was the talk for about a week, everyone expecting nothing less from the son of the flame hero, Endeavor, himself.

You would watch him some days, flaunting his newfound power on the playground in front of others, knowing he would be some great hero one day. Even better than All Might, he would yell to anyone that would listen. It was a decent dream, you believed. Maybe someone could actually be better than All Might.

It didn’t seem like that would be in the cards for you, as it became more apparent as the days went by that you may not have a quirk. The excitement of watching every other child’s quirk manifest began to fill you with a pit of dread.

Quirkless.

It’s something you never thought you would have to think about. The realization hadn’t caught up with the rest of your class yet and you could only thank the stars.

But it was only a matter of time before a group of three noticed.

They cornered you while you tried drawing shapes in the sanded area of the playground.

“Hey,” one kid dragged, horns proudly peeking out of his head. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

You spared him a glance before going back to your sand, gliding the stick you found through the yellow grains. “What do you mean?”

One girl behind him pipes up, curly pigtails bouncing with the tilt of her head, “Where’s your quirk? Aren’t you turning five soon?”

The emphasis on five makes you jolt a little and you try to play it off — offering a little shrug to the trio. “I dunno. Mom says I'm a late bloomer.” you pray they will be satisfied with your answer and leave you alone.

The third kid finally speaks, sporting a new pair of bat-like wings. “No way, I bet you’re gonna be quirkless!”

The other children erupt in a loud laugh that calls the attention of your other classmates — much to your dismay.

“That’s so sad for you!” the girl yelled, grin on her face showing not an ounce of pity.

“Yeah, really!” The first boy laughs, taking a step forward and kicking the sand you were drawing in towards you, effectively ruining your picture and your day.

You go to stand, brushing the sand off of your dress before the girl rushes forward to push you, sending you down to land flat on your bottom. Your bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold back the tears and humiliation threatening to spill over and out.

The bat-winged boy pointed to you, “Look, guys, she’s gonna cry!” Yelling out to anyone who could hear, only causing you to dip your head in shame, now unable to stop the warm tears from trailing down your cheeks.

And you thought today couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey! Knock it off!” You hear a voice yell, familiar. “Flashfire fist!”

You feel the heat before you see it, hot and swift.

The screams make you look up. Its Touya, red hair and fist aflame, standing in front of you and effectively blocking you from the trio of bullies before.

“Ouch, Touya! You could have really hurt us!” the girl with pigtails cried, holding her own wrist as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

The boy who kicked sand at you spoke up next, voice wavering on the verge of tears as well, “Yeah, you jerk!”

Touya shrugged, flames dissipating and points a finger at them, “I don't care. Bullies’ feelings dont matter!”

You could only stare with wet lashes as the trio ran off — no doubt to tell the teacher. Touya didn’t seem to mind, as a matter of fact he seemed proud as he turned to you and reached out a hand to help you up. He was all smiles and warm eyes, “Are you alright?”

You take his hand, noting how warm it still was from his previous quirk use and nod, “Mhm, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he helped you to your feet before continuing, his smile almost blinding, “I’m Touya Todoroki, the next number one hero.”

You nod and introduce yourself, cheeks warm and smile dancing across your face. His mood is infectious. “Nice to meet you, Touya, next number one hero.”

Later that day you realize Touya does get in trouble for improper quirk use and can’t help but apologize.

“It’s fine!” He returns, not bothered in the slightest. “I’d do it again and again, if I had to.”

After the incident Touya insisted on being by your side the rest of the day. During lunch, arts and crafts and even nap time. He would go where you would go and you couldn’t say you minded. Once school had finished for the day and it was time to break apart Touya insisted you both hang out more.

Even going as far as to introduce himself to your parents as they came to pick you up.

His foot tapped in excitement as he told them about your days and how you should hang out more.

That’s how you both find yourselves in some forest on the weekend, walking together through the fresh snow, because Touya just had to show you this cool training spot.

“But, don't you think we’re going too far, Touya?” You ask, nerves trembling as you look around the forest. You wouldn’t know your way back without him and you’ve never been this far out alone.

“No,” he singsongs, “C’mon– don't be such a baby,”

You puff your cheeks, running to catch up with him, “Don’t call me that, but okay!”

He grabs your hand once you are by his side and it's warm. Touya is always warm.

“We’re almost there, anyway!”

This special place looked the same as any other place in these woods, but you wouldn’t let Touya know. He’s so excited to show you what he came to do.

“My dad and I train here sometimes.” He starts, smiling as he backs away from you to show you a flame in his hand. “He thinks my flames will be hotter than his one day.”

You can’t hide the way your eyes fill with sadness as you look to the ground.

“I don’t think I’m gonna get a quirk, Touya.”

The boy’s smile drops instantly, as he rushes over to you, taking your face in his tiny hands. Still so warm, like always.

“Hey, don’t say that! Maybe you aren't trying the right things.” He dips behind you before you could turn to stop him, “Maybe you can see in the dark!” His hypothesis being tested by covering your eyes.

You bite back a laugh, “No, Touya, I don't think it works like that.”

The boy lets you go and runs to a rather large, fallen log – climbing atop it and looking down to you. “Well, maybe you can fly. Have you tried that?”

You shake your head, unable to hide the worry in your face. Touya was up pretty high. “Hey… you shouldn’t be up that far.”

“What do you mean? It’s fine!” he reassures, continuing his musing while walking along the fallen log. “Besides, it’s not like I'm clumsy or anything—!”

The boy’s words were cut short by his shoe stepping down and slipping on the ice below it, sending him crashing down to the patch of snow and debris below.

In that moment, your hand shoots out before you can think and there’s ringing in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut as you wait for the impending crash. But it doesn’t come.

You slowly open your eyes and see… Touya. He’s okay. Better than okay because he’s floating above the snowy patch of grass below, debris and everything brushed away. Your hand is still out as you meet Touya's wide eyes.

“Whoa!” You finally pull your hand back and watch his feet gently touch the grass below. “Dude, you have mind powers! So cool!”

You will your breathing to go back to normal as you take in the new information. You do have a quirk. All hope was not lost.

The feeling of warm liquid creeping down your nostril catches your attention. Bringing a finger to your nose, you pull back and see the crimson drop. Blood. The sound of Touya’s steps through the snow breaks your focus.

“Hey, what happened? You're bleeding.” He takes your finger in his hand, red brows furrowed and cerulean eyes filled with worry.

You shrug, taking your hand back and wiping your nose with your sleeve, unaware of the tiny smear of blood you left across your face. “I dunno. I’m not hurt, though.”

At this, Touya smiles, bringing his own hand to your face to wipe the remainder of what you smeared. “You better not be! We’re gonna be heroes together — you and me!”

It’s so infectious, the way he lights up with a smile, you can’t help but return it. “Yeah, we sure will.”

—----------------

The first time you think you see Touya it’s while you are on your way home from the bustling area of downtown.

The shops are crowded with people trying to get their last minute gifts for the holidays and you promised your parents you would be home hours ago. It’s a flash – so quick you almost miss it.

Almost.

Through the crowd there's a glint of white hair and blue eyes. You stop, sending the people behind you nearly barrolling into your backside and profusely apologize, half heartedly hearing their grumbles as you make your way through the flurry of people.

The snow white hair is a little further ahead, but you can see bits and pieces where the sea of heads will naturally move.

Was that…

It couldn’t be. Your heart picks up as you nearly chase your way through, mumbling faint excuse me’s and pardon me’s to those around you as you lock onto the moving person. It's becoming harder to keep up and you break out in a light sprint.

The person takes a sharp left into an alley and you follow behind, only to be met with the emptiness of a damp back alley.

There was no way it could be him. Your mind was playing tricks on you.

You shake your head, hoping you could physically shake those thoughts from your brain and turn to head home. It had been a long day.

There is a battle raging in your mind — one that you are not sure is formed from grief or from anxiety. it is an all consuming inferno of blackened dust in your heart and you cannot stop yourself when you bring it up to Fuyumi.

You both have been sitting in silence for a while, wrapping gifts for the upcoming holidays. She has been in her own little world, humming christmas tunes, while you have been in a fit of inner turmoil.

“Hey, Fuyumi,” you start, instantly catching her attention in the otherwise quiet home.

“Hm?”

Your nerves are eating your confidence and you start to second guess yourself. Only the warmth in her gray eyes gives you the resolve to continue. “Something weird happened at the market the other day.”

She tilts her head, flowing ponytail following the direction, “What’s that?”

“I was walking and,” you stall — unsure if bringing up your friend's dead brother before the holidays would be a good move. “I swear, I thought I saw Touya. It was a flash, but the guy had his white hair and,” unwanted tears are blurring your vision, “and his eyes were so much like Touya’s i don't—” you're choking up, tears fighting their way through your throat, “I thought i was going crazy.”

Surprisingly, Fuyumi takes it well, reaching a hand out to touch your shoulder, a comforting motion you’ve grown to know over the years.

“Hey, it’s okay. That could have been anyone, you know?” She smiles, and it’s bittersweet like the flowers at a funeral, “it’s the holiday season so everyone is out right now.”

You nod, reluctant, but logical. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was pretty crowded in that area.” the tears would force their way through your resistance whether you fought them or not, so you give up – letting them flow down your cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Fuyumi.”

“No, it's okay! Don't worry about it." She looks to the side. “It’s only been three years since it happened, and the anniversary of his death is coming up too. It's harder around this time of year. For all of us.”

You can only nod as Fuyumi brings you into a tight hug. Your resolve melted away in her arms as you cried, it felt like things would never get easier.

A life without Touya wasn’t a life you could see yourself living happily in.

You wished and prayed for him everyday — unwilling to believe your best friend was really truly gone. It felt so surreal. Like something that happens in movies and not to you.

Fuyumi said nothing as she held you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. She has been a pillar for you in these times and you couldn’t be more grateful. Only wishing you could show your gratuity in a more effective form than just sobbing into her shoulder.

There is an anguish in your heart that will not go away. A part of you died when Touya did, there was no denying that.

Fuyumi pulls away, holding you by the shoulders as her eyes meet yours — she's started crying too and it's enough to make you shake with sobs again.

“Hey, hey,” Fuyumi starts, her voice unwavering despite the tears. You wish you were strong like her. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just have to be strong.”

You give her a pathetic nod, one more for her sake than yours, and try to sit up straighter.

You knew that Touya wouldn’t want to see you like this.

—-------------------

When you are five years old, you notice there is a change in Touya.

You gasp when you see him again, “Touya! Your hair!”

His eyebrows scrunch at your pointing and then widen in realization. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that.” Touya huffs, “were you even listening?”

The question startles you and you quickly nod your head, knowing you didn't hear a word he said. “Mhm!”

Touya keeps talking, now bringing a hand to his hair, rubbing a lock between his forefinger and thumb, “Okay, so what’s the deal?”

You can't stop the confused look in your eye as you watch him, cheeks rosy from the cold. It snowed again yesterday, and Touya never seemed bothered by the cold. You were freezing though.

Somehow you let him bring you back to this forest — it’s become your go to hangout. A place where the both of you could practice your quirks in peace.

“Do you like All Might or something?”

You shrug, indifferent to the well known hero. Your parents weren’t heroes and neither was anyone in your family. He seemed more like a comic book character than an actual person.

“Well, it doesn't matter. My dad told me I’m gonna be even better than All Might! So he better watch out.”

You smile, seeing his eyes light up, “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna be better than him, Touya?”

You don’t know why but it makes your heart dance when he gets this way. Stars in his eyes and world in his hand. He’s your hero, you absently wonder if he knows that.

Touya shrugs, scrunching his nose in thought, “I dunno. I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He snaps his fingers and turns to you, “I know! I’ll look it up. It can’t be too hard, right?”

You laugh now. Of course he doesn’t have a plan.

“Don't you think if it were that easy he wouldn't be the number one right now?” You test, and Touya gives you a look, pout strong on his face.

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours! So, I don't want you to waste your time on silly stuff.” You offer, looking at the leaves you're making dance in your hand.

He groans, the frustration evident in his voice, “Whatever! I’ll figure something else out.”

In that moment, there’s a great gust of wind — whistling and blowing the leaves in your hand away. It’s chill makes you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

“Touya, don’t you get cold?” You ask, arms doing little to warm yourself as you continue to shiver.

The boy looks at you, brows furrowed and eyes confused. “No, do you?”

“Yes!” You shout, “all the time! It’s so c-cold out here. I don’t know how you do it.”

He walks over to you, pondering and examining your face. “Yeah, your nose is all red. Rudolf.”

He takes your face into his hands and closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours back and forth. It’s warm and it makes you flush. Your cheeks burn when he pulls away, stunned at the smile on his face and stars in his eyes.

“Better?” He asks, innocent question ringing in your ears and you realize yes, you do feel better, but you also feel warm and fuzzy like there are butterflies dancing around in your belly and you can’t get them out — so, you just nod instead, slow smile creeping on your face and Touya grabs your hand again.

“Good! Now let’s keep going! There’s this cool new move I wanna try.”

And you follow behind him. He was your best friend after all. You feel as though you would even follow him through the icy storms of Antarctica if you needed to.

—-------------------

Christmas with the Todoroki’s has always been interesting. For one, half of them were not present during the dinner. Rei being sent to the facility, endeavor choosing to work on his hero duties and little Shouto desperately trying to eat with all of you without Enji coming home to find him out of his room.

The silence is eerie – other than the sounds of metal clinking against porcelain plates.

You couldn’t help but break the tense air, words sounding loud in the quiet of the room, “Thank you all for inviting me over. The food is really good, Natsuo.”

At this, Natsuo perks up, a smile so wide on his face it makes his eyes squeeze shut. “We love having you around! You’re like the big sis we never had!”

“Hey!” Fuyumi squawks, ready to scold her little brother, “I’m the one who knows where you sleep Natsu, so watch it!”

You can’t help but laugh at the threat, knowing Natsuo has been a victim to many of Fuyumi’s pranks. Shouto only watches on, eating as much as he could before he would inevitably go back to his side of the home. There wasn’t much expression to his face, but he seemed content to watch his older siblings bicker back and forth.

Times like these were nice, you decide. It pulls your mind away from the reality and into the more lively parts of growing up.

After the dinner was done, and the gifts were passed out, there was a somber air growing about you all once more.

Shouto went back to his room and Natsuo found his place in the living room, playing video games and insisting that since he cooked most of the meal, he shouldn’t wash dishes as well.

Much to Fuyumi’s dismay, you agreed with Natuso, but offered to help her with the dishes. It was something to prolong the inevitable walk home.

“What did you get for him this year?” Fuyumi asked, passing you another plate to dry.

You glanced at her, noting how she avoided your gaze, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. A necklace — with charms and things I think he would like.”

She nods, bringing an arm up to wipe her eyes with her wrist, “Yeah, I’m sure he would love that. He always liked your gifts.”

It’s impossible not to find yourself tearing up.

Once you were done washing dishes with Fuyumi, she went to join Natsuo in the living room, offering unwanted tips on the current game he was playing and receiving groans of irritation in return.

You take that as your cue to leave and make your way to the place you’ve dreaded all night.

Touya’s shrine.

His memoriam stared back at you as you dropped to your knees, lowering your head in prayer and then placing the small decorated box onto the shelf of his shrine.

“Oh, Touya… it’s been three years.” You say to his photo hanging above the shrine. It’s his school photo. You were both in the same class, already talking about what high schools you would be choosing in the upcoming years.

It doesn’t feel like three years. It feels like everyday is the same — you wake up and he’s not there. Like a day you’re doomed to repeat until the reality of it all finally sets in.

What would he look like now, you wonder. Would he have gotten taller? He had always been smaller than the other kids. Would he still have dreams of being a hero? You didn’t know. You wished you knew.

Your fists clinch in your lap and the tears flow freely from your eyes. Even with your head bowed you can’t stop seeing his picture etched into your brain. Those blue eyes staring into your eyes.

A sob escapes your lips and it all comes crashing down after that.

“God, Touya..!” Your words break down, sending your resolve with it. It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you’ve been openly bleeding out for three years.

You are only sixteen years old and expected to spend the rest of your life without the boy who would put the moon in the sky for you.

Unthinkable.

You’re not sure how much time has passed once you’ve calmed down, but you know it’s late now.

It was time to head home, and you wished Fuyumi and Natsuo well as you hugged them. They wave you off, faces somber and words tight. If they heard you crying, they didn't mention it and you’re thankful.

The trek home would not be not a long one, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a detour.

The forest where you and Touya always hung out was nearby and you can't stop your feet when you make a sharp right turn and head that way.

It was getting dark and snow was beginning to fall, but you felt at home.

There's a river you like to walk along. It's such a small little stream that never seems to freeze over, no matter how cold it is outside. It is where you find yourself trailing beside. The water being the only noise breaking through the quiet of the forest.

It kept you company until you reached the familiar open patch of grass, which was currently covered in snow.

Some trees were still charred from the incident, but others were still standing proud. It’s strange how that works — some things can remain the same through adversity while others are damaged beyond repair. You wonder if things could ever grow back from such tragedies.

Maybe the growth of something new could come from the ashes of the old. Like a phoenix.

The snapping of a twig snatches you from your thoughts.

It's a forest, yes, but this area doesn’t have much food for the animals. You stand to your feet, absently wondering when you had taken a seat in the first place, and look around. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, or something falling.

The snow crunches under your feet as you begin to take your leave — you’ve been out long enough.

You make your way through the thick of the trees until something brings you to pause.

Your steps were not the only steps you were hearing.

“Hello?” You call out into what you hoped had been an empty forest, only to be met with silence. It is not a comforting quiet, it was a quiet that crept underneath your skin and gave you goosebumps.

It felt like you were being watched.

“This isn’t funny!” You yell, taking cautious steps backwards, preparing yourself for a sprint in the opposite direction.

You turn, ready to take off when a glimmer of silver catches your eye, the flicker making you halt your movements.

Your heart hammered against your chest.

There was no way.

It was so faint, but you knew the necklace you crafted like the back of your hand.

“Hey! Stop fucking around, whoever you are!” You don’t know where this brave face is coming from, but you aren’t backing down. You could fight if need be.

Against your better judgment, you take a few steps forward, and like you thought, whoever was around took those steps with you. Your breath hitches when you see it.

A flash of white hair.

You break off into a sprint, and the person is already off, having a headstart and leaving you behind.

You couldn’t see as well through the snowfall, but you didn’t need to. White hair and the shimmer of a necklace around the person’s neck has you chasing them deeper into the woods.

“Stop..!” You cry out, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to activate your quirk.

The force of it causes branches to fall from a tree further ahead of the person and he only changes direction.

You follow behind, lungs burning as you struggle to keep up. There was another attempt, bringing an already leaning tree down in front of the running man. It still did not work, he simply jumped over it and continued on.

You were approaching your limit with your quirk and desperate. If you let this slip through your fingers it would drive you mad.

“Wait!” You try again, reaching both hands forward and focusing all you had on the man before you. It was hard to ignore the blood trickling from both nostrils with your quirk use, but you had to, this was your only chance. “Touya..!”

And in that moment, the man stopped — whether it be from your quirk holding him in place or his own will, you weren't sure. All you knew was that the man stopped, and turned.

Your vision began to blur as your head pounded from the overexertion — your quirk was difficult to use on a living being, but it didn’t matter. You would know those eyes even in your darkest hour.

The cerulean blue was the last thing you saw before your world went dark.

And in your final moments, only one thought rang in your mind.

Touya is alive.

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