#now every time i think about him i just envision him bullying me in those dreams

[fairytoge]

dating headcanons ; i.toge, o.yuuta

notes!!

the third part of my "dating headcanons" series! ages ago, i got an ask for me to do more, but i kind of lost it :( i hope you like it though!!

other parts ; n.kento, g.satoru, g.suguruㅤi.yuuji, f.megumiㅤk.choso, z.naoya

m.list

i.toge

so, it's no secret that i highly favour toge out of every character in jjk, but i promiseeeee it's (kind of) for good reason

like, he just seems so sweet, can you really blame me?? and him as your boYFRIEND??? sign me up 🤭

in terms of how you would treat each other, i feel like all of your classmates would be sick of just how much you love each other lol

like, they'll be sitting outside or training and look over to you and toge when neither of you have said anything for a while, only to see the two of you cuddling and sharing your food

however!!!! you both know the time and place to do such things, and often only engage in that sort of pda when you want to purposefully annoy the others (mainly maki) or when either of you is tired

the others won't admit it but they do sometimes find you two cute

you probably sneak away from your group of friends when you're all watching a film to just go to one of your rooms and relax (maybe do skin care or just chat about your days)

you both are a sort of therapy to each other, but in a healthy way where you can joke about it whilst being supportive of each other's struggles

sometimes, when toge is insecure about his cursed speech or how communication in general is sometimes a trouble for him, he'll come to you for cuddles (which you obvs give cos who wouldn't??) and just confirmation that he is enough

those times are when you both adore each other more than you thought was possible <33

apart from that,, i feel like you would organise, at least once a week, to go out together

whether that's just walking, or visiting a cafe, or getting lunch at a store, it's the day that you both have together and one where you get to actually act like your ages!!!

even though you both think it's a secret, the other students are more than aware that you go out but also don't care enough to tell anyone or stalk you two

they secretly think it's sweet

but yeah, the two of you are a really wholesome couple?? but you're both way more chaotic when you're around the others lol

o.yuuta

so, regarding your relationship with yuuta, it starts off a bit rocky??

like, with the whole thing with rika and her as his first love and her curse, yuuta is more than cautious when he recognises that he likes you

you'd probably have to make the first move: reassuring him that no, he wasn't going to curse you with his love and that you were more than okay with entering a relationship with him

he's still scared, but is also aware that if not now, when?

there's quite a few hurdles in your relationship to begin with

like,,, yuuta was basically isolated and bullied for a good part of his childhood and now?? it was a sudden leap (but obvs not unwelcome)

but once you two have overcome those problems and you're both more comfortable and secure when speaking to each other, your relationship really begins to blossom!! <33

you probably both spar and train together regularly

at first it was so that you could help yuuta quickly improve his combat skills, but it soon turned into you both helping each other out in certain aspects

another reason why you trained together so often was obviously so that you could hang out without the others questioning or being nosy about your relationship

with toge and panda, along with their curiosity, i could envision them trying to find out where you both were going and lowkey interrogating and cornering yuuta when he's getting ready (but in a joking way!!)

they often end up being chased away by maki who just wants both you and yuuta to be more confident in dating each other already

no matter her cause, both you and yuuta are thankful towards her lolol

when you do go out, i feel like you'd just go for walks in the local park and feel ducks, or something quite peaceful

with your lifestyles, i mean... you wouldn't complain if you both do something quite relaxing and calm for once

also watching sunsets and sunrises together has become a hobby for you!!!

idk,, you and yuuta have a very normal relationship?? but in a way that just makes you love each other more and appreciate the smaller things in your lives <333

© fairytogeㅤ ꔫㅤ please do not copy, repost, translate, etc without my permission

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk toge #jjk yuta #jjk yuuta #toge #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge x you #toge x reader #inumaki toge x y/n #inumaki toge x you #jjk inumaki #inumaki x you #inumaki x reader #yuta okkotsu #jjk okkotsu

[roseofdarknessblog]

Enemies to Enemies (Colt Grice x Reader + the Warriors)

I was battling a pretty bad writer's block once again... why do they happen so often lately? But anyways, I managed to come up with something. So here, enjoy some silly moments with our lovely Warriors.

♡ @chaotic-on-main ♡

„Are you sure this is a good idea?“ Colt asked, handing you a bottle of vine, while you were adjusting the roses in the wase for like the millionth time. Every detail had to be perfect. Otherwise, all of this would simply go to waste. „I think you’ll just make the whole thing worse.“

„Oh, please. What could be worse than their constant bickering? I’m getting tired of them both, but mostly Galliard.“

„Want me to remind you something?“ he teased you.

You furrowed your brows. „No, don’t! Otherwise, I’ll tell Zeke about how you lost his favorite baseball bat,“ you threatened the blond boy, adjusting the nicely polished cutlery before taking a step back to look at the table as a whole.

Everything looked even more perfect than you previously envisioned. Yes, it was a dumb idea and a complete waste of money and time, but... hey, miracles sometimes do happen, right?

„I didn’t lose it,“ Colt mumbled under his breath, averting his gaze.

„Then where is it?“ Zeke’s missing baseball bat was all the smoke between the Warriors for the last couple of days. Everyone knew about it. Well, except for Zeke.

„In the sewer.“

For a second you thought you hear him wrong. „Excuse me... what?“

„I have nothing to do with it!“ he exclaimed immediately, while his cheeks started to get a little red. „Ask Gabi and Falco. I’m sure they’ll be more than excited to tell you. At least Gabi, Falco is scared to even look at Zeke since then.“

„That’s why he’s avoiding him, now it makes sense. Or... no, it doesn’t but who cares?“ You waved your hand at him, hugged his right arm, and dragged him to stand next to you. „So, what do you think? Do we need anything else?“

The little round table in your family’s garden looked perfect. A white tablecloth, two lit candles, vine glasses and vine, plates, cutlery, and even some pink and purple confetti you had left from the time you were in charge of organizing a birthday party for Zofia earlier that year. If somebody looked at this arrangement, a romantic dinner would be the first thing to come to their mind.

But surely not a dinner for two people who couldn’t stand each other. Or at least one of them had to constantly bully the other one.

„I still think it’s a stupid idea and I really don’t know why I’m even helping you.“

„Because you love me,“ you said and kissed his cheek.

The very special „romantic“ dinner the two of you planned, was meant for Porco and Reiner. It was you, who came up with the idea, because getting shot at the nearest battlefield started to sound more appealing than listening to their constant stupid fights and taunts. While Reiner was the one, who held back most of the time and never started a fight first, Porco looked for an opportunity every chance he got. Yes, he had his reasons, you understood that, but if nobody did anything, those two would end up arguing right during your next military operation.

Good thing neither of their Titans could talk.

„Now... did you tell them to be here at seven?“ you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder.

„Yep.“

„Okay, so I guess we’ll just wait for them.“

Colt nodded, looking at you skeptically. He had every right to worry about how this evening would play out. But he surely didn’t think about Zofia and Udo rushing over and hurry both of you over to his house, because Falco and Gabi got stuck down in the sewer while they were trying to retrieve Zeke’s baseball bat.

At first, you wanted to stay at your place and wait for Reiner and Porco, but when you saw the panic on Colt’s face, you joined them.

When you arrived at the place, the guards from the Internment zone gate, who the kids befriended fairly easily, were already there, laughing their asses off, while Gabi was screaming at them angrily from down below. The two of them got stuck there after half of the old rusty ladder, they used to climb down, simply fell off and the remaining part was too high for them to reach.

„Are you sure you got it?“ you asked Colt, while he was throwing them a rope and was about to climb down to grab that stupid bat from Gabi, before helping them both up.

He mumbled something about not needing you to watch his every step, while he simultaneously cursed his little brother and Reiner’s cousin. Maybe that’s why he almost fell down as well when another step from the ladder broke off. All in all, it took you almost half an hour, until the incident was over.

Only then you realized, that your little rescue mission became an interesting comedy for some of the Eldian people passing by or looking out the windows of their homes. The only one, who was happy about it, was Gabi. She grabbed the baseball bat again, hoisted it into the air, and then bowed for everyone as if she just finished a theatre performance.

She and Falco smelled more than horribly but were still in a better condition than Zeke’s bat. Returning it to him in this condition would equal a war crime.

„I still want to hear how that bat got down to the sewer, alright?“ you asked Gabi, while all of you made your way back to your house. They both needed a shower and a set of fresh clothes Zofia and Udo agreed to borrow them. It was better than letting them go home in such a horrible state. This way the parents didn’t need to know anything. „I’m sure it’s a very interesting story.“

„Definitely!“ she shouted in excitement and started walking backward, just to look right at you, while she started talking again. However, she was cut short, when you arrived at your house. Going around, you peeked over the fence into the garden, almost forgetting how to breathe for a second.

„Look!“ you said to Colt excitedly and smiled so wide, your cheeks started hurting.

Right there, at the table, you so nicely set up sat Reiner and Porco. They were talking about something, while their vine glasses were half empty. If you didn’t know better, you would say this was truly a typical romantic dinner.

„I knew it! I knew it would work and you didn’t believe me!“ you teased Colt, jumping a little with joy. Only that your joy was short-lived, when you looked over at the boys again, as you heard a quiet sob and a roar of laughter right afterward.

„Ehm... are you sure they’re having the time of their life?“ Colt asked, trying to suppress a smile. Right next to him, the Warrior candidates were complaining that the fence was too high and they didn’t see anything. „Because I think Reiner...“

Only when you looked really closely, you saw the truth. While Porco was grinning and drinking the vine with a very satisfied look, Reiner was shaking his head and wiping away tears, while probably contemplating every single decision of his life, which lead him there.

And no, it really didn't help when he noticed you and Colt peering from behind the fence with apologetic looks on your faces. Embarrassed and probably red even behind your ears, you waved at him.

„Do you think serving the food we prepared for them would help?“ you asked Colt in a hushed voice, still waving at Reiner and now Porco as well.

„About that... I guess I forgot to turn the oven on when you told me. Otherwise, your house would be already a pile of ash, since we rushed off without thinking about anything else.“

„Oh...“

There really didn’t seem to be a way to save the whole night. Definitely not, when you suddenly heard Zeke’s voice from behind you. While he was walking up the street to your house with Pieck by his side, and already shouting something to both you and Colt, Zofia quickly pushed Gabi and Falco into the nearby bushes, hiding the baseball bat there as well.

It was better not to try your luck anymore.

#cringelord69 #23cringefest #colt grice x reader #colt grice #reiner braun #porco galliard #gabi braun #falco grice #zeke jaeger #pieck finger #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

[rnisa]

Random Mikami x Reader Thoughts from the Past (Pt.1)

This goes out to the one popular girl who was always super nice and genuinely sweet to me when I was a kid. I wonder if she ever knew I had a crush on her?

😳👉👈

I like to envision a lot of sweet and tender "what ifs" with Mikami. So this is a, "what if Teru had at least one friend in middle school". Just some wholesome thoughts... I'm a sucker for "childhood friends who have a crush on the other but life gets in the way and they get reunited as adults and become a couple."

What if he endured all of the bullying and torment all throughout middle school, when a new transfer student comes along?

What if you, the transfer student, were shocked at how the school didn't bother to handle the bullying that went on and properly reprimanded the bad apples?

I can see Teru probably getting his ass kicked when you see it, for the first time, and interject. You were popular already, because you were "different". You being from somewhere else already made you "interesting" and people at school wanted to be around you. It was a game of who would get you in their clique first.

You defended the boy who got beat up, handing him his shattered glasses and asking if he's okay, once your stunt shooed the bullied away.

Teru was a bit suspicious of you. Though he liked to see the good in people, you unknowingly hung out with the very people he thought "evil". But still, he was kind to you. Wary, but kind.

Over the course of a few weeks, whenever you had seen him as a victim, you would step in and take care of him. You would baby him, almost, despite him not reacting well to that sort of thing.

Pretty soon, Teru went from sitting alone and having nobody, to just...having you. You sat yourself down next to him once, and he was both overjoyed yet anxious. You were not yet fluent in Japanese, yet you did your best to speak with him and try to be his friend.

He already liked you platonically, the moment you stood up for him. It just needed to be one person - anyone - for him to feel like he wasn't truly alone.

You'd had his back, and patched him up when it was necessary. Though part of him thought you were pranking him, just putting on an act and waiting for the right moment to say "Gotcha!" , it was hard for him to fully open up to you.

A few times before, someone would get close. Teru would reveal some kind of secret and the next day, everybody knew and mocked him as he walked by. There was another instance of bullying where a girl did the same, cozied up to Teru and pretended to have a crush on him - only to make a fool out of him in front of his classmates.

He'd been through so much, so it was no wonder that when you told him you liked him, he became somewhat avoidant. Every time he ran into you, it was like he was expecting you to deliver the punchline. However, that moment never came.

That is, until. Some of his bullies got a bit jealous. Why was he happy? Despite all of those beatings and torment, when Mikami was with you, he was able to laugh, and smile. So they "fixed" that.

...By writing a fake love note on behalf of you, of course. Ever seen Heathers? Just like that.

His bullies had written a note confessing "your" love for Mikami. Although he was smart, he was tricked into thinking it was true. Hope, wishful thinking, and the thought of something going good in his life, for once - you, having a crush on him. Sure, he thought of you like that before but he tried not to entertain it too much. Can't be disappointed if your expectations are already low, right?

Still, he plays it safe.

He merely tells you during lunch, "I got your letter" and waits for your response. When you're obviously confused as if you've no idea what he's talking about, he understands. Despite having that suspicion, it didn't hurt any less.

He excuses himself in the middle of the meal, as it's just difficult to be around you now.

I have more but this is so long, I'll do a part 2 eventually.

#sorry if this makes you cringe #teru mikami #mikami death note #death note x reader #mikami x reader #mikami #teru

[keysmashingfantasies]

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N:  i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad). 

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie! 

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

-

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and  it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

-

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”.  After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

-

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

 ‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

-

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

[bkdkology]

A Katsuki Meta

Howdy, I am back on my shit again after Atsushi’s twitter post of Horikoshi’s drafts made me cry for two hours and sleep for three.

Let’s get to it!

While there is obvious symbolism in this draft of Katsuki letting go of his past self, you have to appreciate just how much planning has been dedicated to this series, and how Horikoshi has managed to take a character that could’ve strictly followed a checklist of stereotypes for a hot headed, short tempered deuteragonist and build him to become just as complex and important as the protagonist.

He kept true to the promise he made when the chapter releases were still in the single digits:

Katsuki’s character is one of the easiest to mishandle. He was introduced as a bully, and maintained an explosively vile personality throughout a good chunk of the series. His most obvious traits are the marks of a FOIL to Deku, and he could have well stayed that way and still ended up becoming a good pro, with the usual AHA moment that a deuteragonist like him experiences: a moment where he learns that power isn’t everything.

Except he didn’t have a moment, he had several. He was kidnapped, tossed around, ripped to shreds, challenged, loved, trusted, admired, understood and practically reborn. The fact that he’s managed to stay true to himself after everything means he always had the makings of a great hero in him.

I wouldn’t say I’m a person who’s particularly capable of insane and correct deep level thinking, and on top of that I’m INCREDIBLY EASY to impress. For me it’s like:

You know how Earth needed to be at the exact distance it is from the sun and have the perfect atmosphere to create life? Katsuki’s story is much like that.

If anyone else but Deku had been telling the story, if Deku hadn’t been as persistent, strong willed, and caring as he is, and if everything that happened to Katsuki didn’t happen in the exact order and manner it did, he wouldn’t have been as great as he is now. And while that’s simple enough to say, it’s truly such a beautiful thing to bear witness to.

We’re 300 chapters and nearly 6 years into MHA and we’ve seen.

Katsuki go from refusing to work with others to becoming a great team leader.

His focus has always been on one thing: victory. In almost every situation, he’s had his eye on the win. It wasn’t always the case when Deku was involved, because Deku was so different from him in a way that made him feel threatened. And it’s something that has most likely been on his mind for a long time.

He’s become more comfortable with his vision since his fight with Deku, and it was probably liberating in an emotional sense too. His fight with Deku didn’t just realign and solidify his own views on life, but made him more accepting of himself and absolved him of some of his heaviest insecurities.

Katsuki letting go of his superiority complex to better himself.

In the days leading up to his fight with Deku, he was also fighting an internal battle for “being the reason behind All Might’s end.”

I wouldn’t argue that he was feeling guilty. While it was surely part of it, it shouldn’t be minimized to only guilt. The expressions on his face throughout the fight were incredible, he was angry, frustrated, confused, scared, quite clearly as he claimed, he just didn’t know what the hell he should do, so he fought.

By the time he interned at Endeavor’s agency, he was already well aware that he had faults, which is a huge step for him, and he was beginning the process of pinpointing those faults.

His unwillingness to work with Deku dissolves

After reaching a certain point in the manga, it’s become hard for me to imagine a time when Katsuki full on rejected Deku. In the first few volumes Katsuki got worse before he got better. He was in a comfortable position bullying Deku in middle school, but when he started to experience failure, when he witnessed Deku becoming stronger at a faster rate than him, he couldn’t even enjoy the fact that he was going to school where his favorite role model was teaching.

Now, after everything, Katsuki was opening up to Deku. They started training together to help Deku gain control of OFA. And not just that, Katsuki was invested in the long term. While he shared the secret of OFA with Deku long before anyone else found out about it, he later started to shoulder some of the weight too, and he was good at it.

He called small might out for keeping secrets from Deku, claiming Deku trusted him with his life, but he wasn’t as easily convinced, pointing out a detail in the descriptions of the past users that might’ve gone over Deku’s head. He’s always been brilliant, but now he’s using that brilliance to actively try to become involved with Deku’s burden.

He’s changed in obvious ways, but in subtle ones too.

After so much time, this panel is still really hard to look at. If you’ve ever suffered at the hands of bullies, you probably feel like there’s little satisfaction in their story even though so much has changed between them, there’s still a long way to go, there’s still a huge piece missing. Deku is way too forgiving, I don’t think he ever held anything against Katsuki for the way he treated him in the past. Katsuki is still hard with words, since the last time he bullied Deku, he has never said anything he doesn’t mean.

Katsuki has never been the type to lie. He doesn’t beat around the bush, he doesn’t pretend to be somebody he’s not, and while that part of him hasn’t changed, the way in which he delivers has. His heart has changed, and while I don’t recall a moment where he hasn’t been able to live up to his big claims, his confidence has changed from being used to mask his insecurity, to a healthier confidence that can lead, support, protect, and save.

To think that this moment is the moment that solidified Katsuki’s path to greatness, the fact that his capabilities and brilliance have always made his future bright, he’s gone above and beyond his own expectations of the world and how it works. In the world of scientific journals, there is always a gap in the knowledge of the scientific community, a gap in the understanding of how the world works. When you find that gap, something incredible happens.

He let go of the past. Katsuki, who envisioned a life where he made it big because he knew he could. Katsuki, who was always self driven. Katsuki, who loves the taste of victory. Katsuki, who categorized the world and people around him in terms of power. Katsuki, who believed only the powerful could become strong.

Deku was the one thing in his life that didn’t fit in his picture of the world. To him, his understanding of how the world worked was defined by the strong, the weak, the good and the bad. He couldn’t understand how empathy and vulnerability could make someone strong.

I’m really excited to see where Katsuki goes from here. There’s still so much for him to discover, and he’s so, so close to the end stage of his metamorphosis.

#bakugou katsuki #bkdk #bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #ktdk #katsudeku #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #Katsuki meta #kacchan

[babyybitchhh]

Shigaraki x Reader 18+

Title: Crybaby

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 12,290

Warnings: I'll be honest and say I'm not entirely sure how to tag some of this so proceed with caution. Infantilization, forced age regression, mental age regression, non consensual regression, ageplay, mentions of baby bottles and pacifiers, coercion, general noncon and dubcon, diddling, vaginal fingering, involuntary urination, wetting, mention of forced third party bathing, diapers, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, creampie, excessive use of 'Tomu-nii', mention of sex slaves, a brief but explicitly violent death mention towards the start, overall very questionable decisions from both me and Shigaraki

A/N: I will not be taking any questions at this time, thank you.

( @tomurasprincess)

♥♥♥♥

There was a fine line between a gift and a burden.

A new video game, for example, is something people were generally happy to receive and there was no obligation to slave over it at all hours of the day, unless you wanted to. A puppy, on the other hand, came with a certain amount of responsibility that couldn’t be side lined until Tomura decided to deal with it. There was no save button, no coming back to it later. He had to be vigilant to some degree, mindful of the life that was now in his hands, and that wasn’t something he was accustomed to by any stretch of the imagination. He couldn’t stand it. Didn’t even really possess the vernacular needed to describe exactly how much it pissed him off that he was suddenly expected to take care of someone - something else.

It was bullshit.

Standing over your prone form sprawled out on the cluttered floor he thinks, not for the first time, about ending it right here and now. It would be easy, surely. One touch of his hand and you’d be gone. Disintegrated to mere dust and nothing more than a vague, unpleasant memory in the back of his mind. You deserved it by simple virtue of being such a damn inconvenience but, just as every other time, he hesitates.

Not because you don’t even realize the danger you’re in as you innocently kick your legs back and forth in the air, all your wide eyed, dopey attention locked on the tv screen. Tomura is not so soft as to consider a sneak attack you don’t even see coming an insult to his pride. He would’ve been showing you mercy, actually, because if he didn’t fear upsetting All for One so much he’d have preferred to wrap his hands around your scrawny little neck instead. Give you a good throttle or two. Squeeze until his knuckles were a stark white against your purpling blue skin. He could almost envision what you would look like, all bloated and full of blood from burst capillaries and reddened eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

His cock stirs in his pants and his hatred for you grows with it. He couldn’t stand you or what you represented, a sudden addition to his life that he never asked for but couldn’t get rid of, and the fact he was getting stiff from his morbid fantasies was certainly your fault too. Everything was your fault. Right down to the most minor of inconveniences, you were to blame - even if it happened before you were dropped into his lap with all the to-do of a posh, overly indulgent birthday present. It was you. You, you, you, you you you youyouyouyouyou -

“Tomu-nii?”

With a jolt, he snaps out of it. The haze lifts and his blown out eyes focus in on your tubby little face, now turned over your shoulder to glance back at him. Tomura isn’t sure when you realized he was looming over you like some horrible, sickly wraith and he knows even less how it is that you show no fear towards him. Were you really so stupid that you couldn’t sense his desire to not only kill you but make you suffer? So blind that you didn’t see the way his bony hands fisted at his sides with a purpose and not in idle reflex?

No. It wasn’t that you were as unintelligent as a brain dead sheep happily trotting off to slaughter. Rather, it’s because that was what All for One had designed you to be.

Tomura wouldn’t claim to understand how, exactly, his mentor had gotten these results but he knows enough to recognize the signs. You’d been stripped of everything in a way that far exceeded mere surface level nudity. All for One had gone even deeper than that, past flesh and bone and right into the heart of what made you you. The brain.

He had no doubt that a quirk had been used, the specifics of which he couldn’t even begin to fathom, but the tinkering and rewiring had done its job exceedingly well, in fact. While your body was that of a young adult woman, early to mid 20’s if he had to wager a guess, your mind was something like that of a toddlers. You could speak just fine but the enunciation was sloppy, your words childish and limited to small, easily communicable sentences. You picked up on things surprisingly fast, perhaps even a little too well if the way he’d heard you let out a soft, half hearted ‘fuck’ earlier was anything to go by. But you slipped up just as easily and he was getting real tired of making sure you went and sat on the toilet instead of pissing all over his (no doubt already smelly) carpet. Living in his own mess was one thing. Living in someone else’s was another matter entirely.

Nothing about this was in error, though. You were exactly what All for One intended for you to be - little more than an animal for him to look after but with arguably higher stakes involved - and he’d had enough. It’d only been a single day, a full 24 hours since you were dropped into his room, and he was already at the end of his patience.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like that stupid cartoon I put on for you?”

You actually had the audacity to pout at him, jutting your lower lip out and puffing your cheeks as if that was supposed to make him feel anything other than an even stronger urge to take you out of this world. “S’not that. Mm’ just bored. You’re no fun.”

Tomura very nearly lunges at you with outstretched hands, All for One be damned, but your next words stop him in his tracks.

“I thought maybe you were coming to play with me.”

Play with you? He would’ve laughed if only he could find even a sliver of real humor in this situation. This was a joke, if not because of the absurdity of it all then at least because he wanted to play with you alright. He wanted to play a game that started with you screaming in shrill terror and ended with a chilly body laid out on his bedroom floor. That sounded like more fun than a barrel of kittens.

He stills himself, though, and snobbishly peers at you down the length of his nose. “I don’t play games with brats. Sorry.”

That only makes you pout even more. “Meanie.”

“Watch your fucking cartoon,” Tomura grits out through gnashing, angry teeth, unreasonably irritated by your persistent refusal to cooperate. “Before I make you.”

He isn’t even really sure if that threat makes any sense at this point, so thrown off by your mere presence in what should’ve been his space that he can barely make heads or tails of his own thoughts anymore. But the dramatic way you squawk in displeasure and throw yourself out flat on the floor placates him somewhat. You were easy to rile up, and he would have been a boldfaced liar if he’d said he didn’t get a kick out of that. Tomura had never felt quite so cruel, so much like an adolescent bully looking to make his problems someone else’s as when he was working you up into a proper fit.

It was easily the most enjoyable aspect of this arrangement so far, and he watches with nothing short of smug satisfaction as you pound your hands on the floor in pent up frustration. It was laughably easy to picture what they’d look like, well groomed after a manicure and with a fresh coat of polish on the nails. You looked like you’d probably been the sort of woman who would go with reds. Fierce and bold, as much a statement as your pretty face, which was currently scrunched up and pressed tight against the carpet in front of his tv. Those same hands were plain and unadorned now, squeezed into tight little fists that were about as harmless as they could get. Tomura probably would’ve considered a turtle more of a pressing threat than you right now.

“Crybaby.” He spits the word out like it’s poison. “Does that make you feel better? Huh? Throwing a tantrum just because you’re not getting your way?”

“Mm’ not a crybaby!” You scream into the carpet. The contrast between your plushy figure and your behavior is disturbing on some very real, intrinsic level and that only seems to add fuel to his fire.

“Hah! That’s funny. You certainly look like one, you know that? What would you even think of yourself if you were in your right mind, I wonder.”

“Mm’ not!” Your incessant screeching rises in pitch and Tomura is almost positive you aren’t even really hearing him anymore, but he decides he doesn’t care.

“Embarrassing. Maybe I should have Kurogiri bring me a bottle since you want to act like a baby so much. Or would you like a pacifier instead? Hmm? Would that make you feel better, princess?”

“Nooooo!”

Your feet start kicking the air again, violently rather than in placid distraction, and the motion draws Tomura’s gaze to the seat of your onesie. Pink and humiliatingly infantile for a grown woman to be wearing, he’d looked at it with nothing short of contempt up until now. But the (no doubt exhausting) flex of your legs bunches the loose cotton, making it gather around your upturned ass and in turn emphasizes the convenient button flap across the back. Now that he’s actually looking at it, he’s almost positive it was wide enough to expose your entire rear to the world with little more than a quick snap of his fingers. Maybe even wide enough to expose other things too …

Tomura jolts with all the force of a sudden electric shock when you cry out his name or, rather, the ridiculous moniker you’d given him. He’d like to know who’d planted that particular seed in your head - if it was All for One’s idea of a twisted joke or if Kurogiri had really thought being called niichan by a woman who may or may not actually be older than him would make Tomura feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It doesn’t exactly matter now, though, because the wet quality of your voice makes his cock spring up in his pants. He’s mildly horrified with himself, far more comfortable with his earlier fantasies of killing you, but there’s no helping it anymore. Not when you say his name like that. Not when the tears he’d initially thought were crocodilian at best were so thick and heavy in your throat that the syllables come out garbled and almost incomprehensible.

He’s not sure what he intends to do, but he shuffles closer.

You’ve started to tire out now and the kicking slows before stopping all together. He watches your ankles cross over one another in the air, as if you were trying to self soothe on some level by physically keeping yourself together, but it doesn’t seem to do much in the way of good. Your shoulders were still trembling with the lingering traces of your fit, and he can hear you mewling into the abrasive carpet like a wounded animal. It was clear that you were hurting because of him - and not just as a result of his teasing. After the complete and utter deconstruction of your mind, you were probably scared without even really knowing why. Confused, but too lost in the quirk induced stupor that had left you in this sorry state to seek out answers.

He hadn’t bothered to test this theory yet, but Tomura would have been willing to bet good money that All for One left you with very little inside that thick skull of yours. It just made sense, after all. For what good was a doll with memories of her past life? What would he have possibly gotten out of playing house with someone who fought him every step of the way, either out of embarrassment or repulsion towards him as a person?

No. You were a blank slate in the strictest sense. His to mold however he deemed fit and with no recollection of who you were, who you’d been or even who you’d wanted to be, he was free to do whatever he damn well pleased.

There was still raging contempt for you burning within his chest, certainly. You were an annoying, unnecessary burden on him and there was no getting around the fact that he still wanted you gone. But the spark igniting his gut is even stronger and, for better or worse, it momentarily overrides his better judgement.

So he sinks down onto his knees, directly behind you, and reaches out to tentatively palm the swell of your ass. Pinky held away, so as not to disintegrate you, which surprises him somewhat given how vivid his fantasies of killing you had been. He doesn’t get to linger on that for very long though, because you grow still at his touch and your pathetic sniveling quiets to a soft, almost hopeful sniffle. Tomura bites back a crude snort, just barely managing to catch himself before he backpedals and hisses another insult at you. He could probably take what he wanted with any given method, he didn’t have to be nice about it, but somehow the alternative just felt wrong. Physically you were an adult, but with the mental state of a child it felt a bit like taking advantage of an innocent and he wasn’t a complete monster.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, the word foreign on his tongue. “I shouldn’t have been so mean. Will you forgive me?”

You squirm and push your face further into the carpet. “Mhm.”

He doesn’t smile. But he does take that as an incentive to push forward, and he starts caressing your backside with slow, cautious circles. “Do you really want me to play with you that bad?”

“Mhm.”

Hesitating, Tomura considers his next words very carefully. “Fine. I’ll play with you. But I get to choose the game.”

You don’t immediately respond and he starts to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Overestimated his ability to be diplomatic and conscientious - which wouldn’t exactly have come as a surprise. But then you shift on the floor, tension draining from your body as you turn your head so you aren’t suffocating in the carpet anymore. “Okay.”

His brows lift in surprise only to then knit together. It was that easy? He’s not so sure he trusts it but, dropping his gaze back down to your ass, he gives the doughy soft flesh an experimental squeeze. Your only response is a soft, faltering sigh that seems to help you relax more. This, too, seems a little too good to be true but he keeps going anyway.

When a few minutes of kneading your defenseless backside does nothing to upset you, Tomura starts to get bolder. He slowly brings his opposite hand forward and latches onto the other cheek with four fingers, massaging both sides in tandem. He’d had the unfortunate luck of seeing your bare ass late the previous evening, after you’d emptied your bladder all over the blanket he’d tossed you to sleep on which had resulted in an aggressively administered bath for you and a frustrated headache for him. He hadn’t paid too much attention at the time, far too angry to be horny, but he knew enough to realize that you were unexpectedly voluptuous under that onesie.

The garment itself was so oversized it hid even the smallest hint of the womanly figure underneath. He probably would’ve forgotten all about it, pushed to the back of his mind in favor of more pressing matters (like getting rid of you) but now that he’s got his hands on your butt it’s all he can think about. The way your full tits jiggled when he’d non too gently manhandled you into the tub. The frustratingly cute lower belly pouch that bulged when you sat down, crying, on the porcelain surface. The way your thighs molded to whatever position he’d yanked them in so he could hose you off like a filthy stray. He’d actively avoided looking at what was between your legs, in fear of what he’d see as much as stubborn refusal, but looking back on it now he isn’t sure how he hadn’t given in to temptation.

Now, however, he was suddenly more interested than ever in finding out what your pussy looked like and, hooking his long index fingers into the flap, he starts to unlatch it one button at a time.

You make no move to stop him. Don’t even protest or question what he’s doing. It’s almost as if just having his attention on you is enough, and Tomura’s mouth pulls back in a sneer at the mere thought. You were so damn stupid for trusting him like this, completely oblivious or uncaring about what his intentions were. He could be as violent with you as he wanted. He could erase you from this existence with the briefest touch. But you just lay there, your shoulders slowly rising and falling with each even breath you draw, and he can’t decide if that feeling clawing at the back of his throat is hatred or guilt.

But there’s no real reason to stop now, so he carefully peels back the flap of fabric once he’s got it completely unfastened. Bare skin greets him, a perfectly exposed strip of swelling flesh that seems all the more enticing with pink cotton framing it so nicely. He pauses long enough to lick his dry, cracked lips. The weight of his stiff cock strains against the inside of his zipper, twitching eagerly when he reaches out to hesitantly touch your back side again.

The sensation of a real, living person under his fingertips makes his breath come a little faster. Still, you don’t move though and he picks up right where he left off, roughly groping your ass cheeks with barely contained excitement until he gets so vigorous that you whimper.

“Shh. I’ll try not to be so rough.” Tomura shushes you, throaty and barely more than a murmur.

You settle back into place, thankfully, and he takes that chance to spread your cheeks open. He gets a brief glimpse of the puckered hole hidden inside, white hot static racing straight to his groin, and he lets out a rumbling groan. His fingers squeeze into flesh again and he pulls, baring you entirely to his voracious eyes. The tight muscle twitches, winking at him, and his attention drops to the smallest satiny peak of your slit. He can just barely see it, mostly hidden behind the pooling fabric bunched under the swell of your ass, but it’s more than enough to make him feel dizzy.

“Shit,” he sounds winded even to his own ears. “You’ve got such a nice body.”

To his surprise, you actually perk up at that. “Really?”

Tomura almost snaps at you on impulse, so irritated by the sound of your voice that he nearly forgets what he’s trying to do. Quelling himself, though, he tugs at the bottom half of your onesie until he can see the plushy soft lips of your pussy. You look so inviting, so warm and real he can hardly even stand it.

“Really.” He croaks. “How old are you again?”

You seem to think about that. “Mm, I dunno’!”

He frowns. Contemplates that for a long beat. But the coarse hair curling around your slit seems answer enough, for him at least. You weren’t actually a child. You just sounded like one, acted like one, dressed like one. That wasn’t what was getting him so painfully hard though. It was the fact you were a woman, physically, and he’d never gotten to see one up close and personal like this before. Why hadn’t All for One just given him a proper sex slave instead of one that threw tantrums and cried at the drop of a dime? Was this really what his mentor had intended for him to do with you?

“Tomu-nii?”

Drawing a sharp breath, he brings his attention up to bark at you to be quiet but the words catch when he finds you looking at him over your shoulder. He can feel his cheeks starting to warm, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He flounders for a moment. Then, awkwardly clearing his throat, he decides to fall back on his original excuse. “This is the game I mentioned earlier. You wanted to play, right?”

You nod your head, but you don’t look entirely certain about that. “I do but … aren’t games s’posed to be fun? This is boring!”

His mouth presses into a thin line. It hadn’t occurred to him that you might not be content to just idly sit by while he molested your slutty little body, but if it was fun you wanted then he could certainly give you that. “This was just the warm up. Roll over and I’ll show you how to play.”

The way your eyes light up almost makes him regret this decision. It’s too late though, you’re already twisting over on to your back with your elbows braced on the carpet so you can stare up at him. Stupid and expectant.

He clicks his tongue.

Reaching out to grab your wide set hips with only eight of his fingers, he inelegantly drags you closer so that you were nicely slotted between his knees. Your legs curl up as you regard him with nothing short of intense curiosity, lips parting in a silent ‘o’ that very nearly sends him over the edge. You were too pretty for your own good. Much too beautiful to be wearing a pink onesie and acting like a baby. This was such a waste, and he almost feels bad for what All for One did to you.

But he shrugs it off, forcefully, and his delicately poised hands descend on your zipper. Zrrrrrt, straight down the length of your body. It stops directly above your crotch and he reaches up to reverently push the cotton out to the sides and expose the rest of you.

Your tits were even better than he’d initially thought. They were full and heavy, dotted with the most perfect little buds for nipples. Soft and smooth. Tomura’s mouth waters in anticipation and he doesn’t realize how roughly he’s jerking your arms out of the sleeves until you wail dramatically that it hurts.

He’d like to tell you what really hurts is his cock, unbearably hard and trapped inside his pants, but he refrains. Instead, he huffs out an insincere apology and keeps on yanking. He can’t get you undressed fast enough, mesmerized by the way your breasts jiggle and bounce every time he pulls on you. There’s something inherently wrong about this, he knows. It’s so damn obvious you’re not right in the head, that you aren’t of sound enough mind to even understand what he’s doing to you, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you were so willing and pliant under his shaking hands.

Finally managing to wrest the blasted onesie off your kicking feet, Tomura tosses it off to the side and he eagerly sets his sights on your naked body. You should have looked seductive and coy, spread out in front of him with a devious smile curling artfully painted lips as you invite him to have his way with you. Instead, you fitfully squirm, neither seductive nor shy. It’s clear that you have no sense of shame, your artificially infantile brain completely void of the concept and even less aware of how inappropriate any of this was. You just keep looking at him, waiting for the explanation he’d promised to give you.

Oh. That’s right. The game he kept talking about. Perhaps he could still salvage this after all.

“The rules are simple,” he says slowly, scrambling to put together a decent excuse to keep going. “I’ll touch you for a little bit and if I can make you feel good then I win. After that, it’ll be your turn. If you make me feel good, you’ll win. Understand?”

Your expression pinches in confusion. “So we both win?”

“Only if we make each other feel good. What’s wrong? You don’t want to play with me anymore?”

Much to his relief, you quickly bob your head. “I do! Please play with me, Tomu-nii!”

The way his cock jolts at that makes his entire body ache. It’s much too late to turn back now, he was well past the point of salvation, and he haltingly drags his attention down to your chest. Your petite nipples had stiffened in the cool air but it’s as if you don’t even notice. Wasn’t that something a grown woman would be conscious of? He thinks so, or at least he’s pretty sure it is. Apparently it isn’t the sort of thing a dumb baby brain even registers, though, and he reaches out to curiously flick at one.

You gasp, eyes widening slightly. Misplaced hope sears his veins and he watches you intently, holding his breath, but you don’t seem to understand what it is you’re feeling. Your brows furrow as you glance down at yourself and bring a hand up to cover your nipple.

“Oww …”

That certainly wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Or at least it wasn’t the sort of reaction Pornhub had taught him to expect, but it was still something.

“Baby.” He grumbles, reaching for the opposite tit.

“Mm’not!”

“Are too. Didn’t that feel good?”

“No!”

“Then you’re winning, aren’t you?”

Confusion marches across your face for a moment before understanding dawns. You look quite pleased now as you track the movement of his hand as he carefully pinches your puckered nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it between the pads. He doesn’t get an immediate reaction out of you but the longer he does it the more your lips start to purse. It’s as if you were holding back, determined not to show him that you might be enjoying it and risk losing the game, but it’s enough to embolden him.

His ministrations pick up and he gives your delicate little teat a mild twist. There’s no malice or cruelty behind the action. He just wants to see what you’ll do. And you don’t disappoint, the way you jump and your mouth flies open as if to squawk making his stomach clench with something perverse. You catch yourself at the last second though, teeth clacking together as your gaze flits up at him to see if he’s looking.

He is, of course, and you forcibly swallow the sound you’d almost let out. Tomura is a bit disappointed, sure. He’d wanted to hear how pretty you’d moan for him but there were still plenty of other chances for him to coerce at least one out of you.

Hunching over your prone body, he brings his other hand up to latch onto the opposite nipple, the one he’d previously flicked. You wince at the contact but make no move to stop him, biting down on your lower lip to keep quiet as you watch him play with your fat tits in petulant silence. It was ass backwards in so many ways. He’d thought, despite everything, his first time with a girl would be somewhat normal. Maybe not picture perfect or all that good when everything was said and done, but at least relatively mundane. This was the farthest thing from that though. He couldn’t conceive of a more wildly abnormal scenario even if he’d tried, nor did he recall ever seeing any porn with this hyper specific set up. But there was still some sick, twisted part of him that was deriving pleasure from this decidedly unorthodox encounter with the opposite sex, and that feeling only grows exponentially the more he keeps going.

Kneading, pinching, squeezing, tugging. He doesn’t let up until your nipples are flushed dark and straining hard, the glistening hint of tears at the corners of your eyes telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was getting somewhere. The urge to call you a crybaby swells in his chest again but he doesn’t want to risk another tantrum. He wasn’t so sure his cock could handle it, particularly not when he’d positioned himself over you in such a way that one solid kick would put him out of commission for the foreseeable future. No, this was a delicate situation that required the utmost care on his part and, gathering his nerves, he swoops down to cover one of the stiff buds with his mouth.

The heated gasp that bursts out of you in a great woosh has him groaning into the meaty swell of your tit. You shudder underneath him, involuntarily twitching as he traces your areola with the tip of his tongue and laves it in warm, wet attention. He can tell that you’re not sure what to do so he waits with bated breath, reveling in the fleshy nub pinched between his lips. There was no reason for him not to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment he could get out of this while he could, after all - but then your hands find his hair, threading into wavy locks, and he throbs for you.

“Tomu-nii …”

He practically sinks into you, damn near suffocating himself in the plushy swell of your breast. His mouth opens wide and sucks more of you past his lips, suckling enthusiastically just like the infant you were programmed to be. This particular role reversal doesn’t even seem to register in your mind though and he seethes when you tug at his hair, trying to pull him off.

“St-aaahp …. I don’t like it!”

Tomura comes up off you with a wet gasp. “Bullshit.” He practically growls, narrowing his eyes at your dopey, flustered expression.

“It’s true! I don’t!”

“Oh? Should we check then?”

Your face scrunches and you draw a breath to question him, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Going back up on his knees, he plants one hand against the meat of your inner thigh and shoves it wide. His other darts between your legs before you can react, spindly digits finding your bare cunt and prodding at your folds with rough fingertips. You jolt at the contact but it’s too late. He barely has to touch you to feel the slick oozing out of you and he lets loose a harsh bark of laughter.

“My ass. You’re fucking soaked. You shouldn’t lie, you know.”

“I didn’t!” You gasp, clearly offended by the insinuation. “You’re just a fucking meanie!”

That gives him pause.

Glancing up at your face, Tomura regards you carefully as he tries to figure out his next move. On one hand it was his own fault for saying that word around you so much and it’s not like it was any of his business what you did or didn’t say, but on the other … there was something uncomfortable about hearing that come out of your mouth with such a childish inflection. It lacked any and all bite, not even a hint of impotent aggression to be found. You were just parroting him, that’s all, but for whatever reason he didn’t really appreciate it.

“Don’t say that.” He huffs, turning his attention back to your pussy.

Tomura had wanted to leave it at that, but of course you have to fight him every step of the way.

“Why not?” You ask rather flippantly.

“Because i said so. If you want to get smart, be my guest. I know how to handle bratty little girls like you.”

He’s a bit surprised when that actually shuts you up. Apparently, he was starting to get the hang of this but he still has to sneak a quick peek at you just to make sure. The fact you actually look contemplative, as if you were turning that over in your empty head, almost makes him laugh.

“Do you still want to play?” God, he sorely hoped you did.

You hesitate though, unwilling to give your acquiescence just like that. “When is it my turn?” You ask warily.

“Soon. I’ve got one more chance to make you feel good and then you can try.”

“Mmm … okay. But I’m not gonna’ lose!”

He’s almost certain you would have already lost if you weren’t such a petulant little thing, but he keeps that to himself. Instead, he once again turns his attention to the spot between your legs. Your puffy slit was noticeably wet, the faint sheen of fluid glistening slightly in the overhead light, and he takes a moment to gently part the curls there. Just as he’d thought. Damp to the touch and only getting wetter. He really was going to have to talk to you about lying especially since, in this particular context, you were cheating. This was a far cry from his video games but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Swallowing his reprimand for the time being, though, Tomura carefully presses two fingers into the doughy softness of your labia and spreads them apart. He can see now that you were practically drenched in slick arousal, thin threads of discharge stretching across your petal soft folds before snapping. He gulps down his nerves. You really did have the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen and the fact it was all his for the taking very nearly had him creaming in his pants right then and there. It was almost obscene how bad he wanted to fuck your tampered brains out but he didn’t want to scare you into noncompliance. He wasn’t going to fight for this if he didn’t have to.

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings his other hand close and prods at where he thinks your clit should be. He’d certainly seen them in enough triple X videos to have some idea of where to look, but when all you do is let out a soft sigh he knows he’s mistaken.

His teeth gnash in high strung irritation as he walks his finger lower and then higher, feeling a bit like a blind fool searching for buried treasure. There were so many fleshy ridges and folds that he couldn’t pinpoint the right spot from memory alone, so he has to take his time feeling around instead. He thinks he’s found it for a split second when you shift underneath him, but then he realizes you were simply getting fussy - no doubt bored with all his incessant pawing - and that only angers him further. It shouldn’t have been this damn hard to find!

Impatient now, Tomura roughly swipes his finger up the length of your slit and surprise washes over him when you jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. Your head comes up off the rug and you stare at him, wide eyed, but it was much too late. He’d finally gotten the reaction out of you that he’d been hoping for, and he leans into it with nothing short of devilish delight.

Knowing precisely where to look helps a great deal and it immediately occurs to him that the reason he’d struggled so much is because your clit was still hidden behind its protective hood. But he’s got the advantage now, and he ever so carefully pinches at satiny soft skin until he can ease it back and expose the sensitive little bud nestled inside. You whimper slightly as he does it, squirming awkwardly on your back as if you could instinctively sense that you might be in a bit of trouble now. It was kind of cute, if he was being totally honest.

“I don’t think I like this game …”

“You will. Trust me.”

Clearly not believing him, you start to open your mouth to complain but he stops you cold with a quick flick of his finger. Your engorged clit jostles against the indelicate contact and you blurt out such a startled sound that he actually glances up to make sure you’re okay. Unsurprisingly, you look a little more flustered now and the panic edging your expression is almost enough to make him reconsider this.

Almost, but not quite.

“What’s the matter?” He goads, dropping his gaze back down to your pussy again. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I … I don’t …”

“Really? I’m not sure I believe that.”

He does it again, gentler this time. Just a brief tap against the meaty little nub, but it’s enough to make you twitch and try to close your legs from him. Tomura won’t let you back out so easily though and he shifts even closer so he can wedge himself between your thighs to keep them spread. You issue a frustrated, huffy sound that he could only describe as babyish as you try to push up on your elbows, no doubt intending to scuttle away from him. He had to give you credit for being so hard headed even in this infantile state but he was far too invested to quit now.

Letting up his hold on your labia, Tomura directs his fingers lower and wedges three of them into your slit. You freeze, momentarily stunned, and he takes that split second opportunity to feel around for your entrance. It’s not hard to find. Much easier than your clit, at any rate, and he wastes no time wriggling a long digit up inside your body. The penetration is smooth, your guts such a slippery mess that it almost startles him.

You really were a liar.

He suddenly realizes he’s panting. At the same time, he realizes that you don’t appear to be breathing at all. Your expression is about as dumbfounded as it could be, and he dully watches the way you sway in your half upright position. Shellshocked would probably be an appropriate descriptor, and he wets his lips in anticipation.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Your legs flex around his arms and you shake your head. “Nuh … no …”

“If you don’t stop lying to me,” he grumbles. “I’m going to get mad.”

You stiffen, clearly drawing yourself up to challenge that statement just like he’d known you would. It was embarrassing how predictable you could be.

He’s had just about enough of this back and forth though, and he roughly curls his finger upward in search of the spot that would finally shut you up for good. But his efforts only make you more fussy and his patience quickly unravels when you try to twist away from him, wailing in displeasure. He hated that sound and, if you weren’t careful, he’d go right back to hating you too

Grunting, Tomura abandons your clit in favor of latching his hand onto the swell of your thigh and he digs his blunt nails in to keep you still. You actually have the audacity to kick out at him but he puts a stop to that quickly enough by shoving a second finger into your sticky cunt. Just like the first time, it makes you hesitate and he watches your warbling mouth drop open in what he thinks might be pleasure. It’s frustratingly hard to tell with you but, having no other choice, he decides to take it at face value.

Your pussy clicks loudly when he starts pumping into you straight down to the knuckle, the wet squelch almost deafening in his ears. It’s unreasonably hot though, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to commit every little detail to memory. The way your face screws up with a stuttering gasp, the way you squeeze your eyes shut and try to brace against the pressure of his digits driving into you again and again. The way you moan, even when you try not to, is particularly enticing, especially since it’s just as pretty as he’d hoped it would be. The way your legs shake and you threaten to double over, the way he can see you clutching the carpet in a death grip, the way you just seem to get even wetter for him. There was too much to take in all at once but it was also far too erotic to look away from. He really was going to cream his pants at this rate.

Somehow, your honest reaction appears to make up for all the trouble you’d given him up until now and Tomura can feel the wet spot bleeding through his boxer briefs start to grow. He was positive he’d never been harder in all his life. Animalistic and practically slobbering like a rabid dog, he hunches further over your quaking body and pistons into your cunt so vigorously his arm starts to ache. You were wailing for him to stop, crying out for Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, but he doesn’t even slow down. He can’t.

Your cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper on every plunge, gummy walls pulsating around his no doubt pruning fingers so enthusiastically that he’s sure you’re going to cum. He can practically taste it. Tomura wasn't going to stop until you did and, realizing he doesn’t have to hold onto you any longer, he reaches out to roughly shove you down on your back again.

“Are you going to cream for me, princess? Huh?” He grits out through savagely bared teeth. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No! Please, Tomu-nii … it hurts!”

Even in the heat of the moment he can’t stop himself from clicking his tongue in irritation. “No it doesn’t, you big baby. You love this. I know you do. I can see it written all over your stupid, pretty face. Go on. Tell me exactly how good you feel. Do it!”

Wailing, you peer up at him through heavy lashes with a look so imploring it very nearly gives him pause. “I - I can’t! I’m … Tomu-nii, I’m gonna’ … I’m gonna’ pee!”

“No you aren’t. That just means your clo - -“

Tomura cuts himself off when you do exactly that. He’s almost too stunned to react and all he can do is watch as the steady stream of urine bursts out of you before dribbling down his wrist to soak into the carpet underneath. It’s only now, when you’re pissing all over yourself as well as him, that he finally has the decency to slow his pumping to a staggered halt. For a fleeting moment he actually considers the notion of keeping at it. There wasn’t much else you could do to ruin this for him, after all, but one look at your expression immediately quashes that idea.

He’d be lucky if all he could manage was to stop you from dissolving into ugly, heaving sobs, let alone worry about getting himself off. Dammit. You really were nothing but a pain in his ass.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He deadpans, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt now that he was thoroughly coated in warm, smelly piss. “To be honest I was kind of tired of that rug anyway. And these clothes, too.”

You hiccup so sadly that what little bit of anger had sparked inside him immediately dies out. He couldn’t even be mad at you for this no matter how much he may have wanted to blame you for everything. You’d tried to warn him.

“T- Tomu-nii … mm’sorry …”

Tomura sighs through his nose, hard enough to make the split end tips of his hair shift. “Don't be. That was my fault. Just - let me find something to clean us up with.”

“Do I have to take another bath?” You ask so meekly he almost misses it.

Pausing halfway through the motion of rising to his feet, he glances down at you again. It occurs to him quickly enough that it wasn’t the accident you were so upset about but, rather, the looming possibility of another aggressively meted out trip to the bathroom. Interesting. He’d almost think he was mistaken, it had only happened once, after all, but the way your lower lip wobbles tells him everything he needs to know. Apparently you were more scared of him than you’d let on.

“No, not right now. I think I can get you clean enough with a wet rag or something. You’ll have to take one later but,” Tomura scoffs, hating that he was actually trying to be nice after you’d peed all over him. “I’ll try not to be so rough next time. You just made me mad last night, that’s all.”

You nod slowly, looking like you don’t quite believe that, but still too naively trusting to press the matter. “Okay.”

Nodding once, Tomura climbs to his feet. The inner seam of his pants from the knee down is absolutely soaked and he makes it only three steps before deciding he didn’t like them all that much to begin with. Dropping his hand to the rough denim, he brushes all five fingers across the thigh and they dissolve into nothing without a second thought to the matter. He can faintly hear you ooohing behind him but there were much more important things to worry about than how easily impressed you were.

His half flagged cock throbs hopefully inside his boxer briefs and he reaches down to delicately adjust himself. God, he’d be aching for the next week thanks to your uncontrollable bladder.

An idea pops into his head with that thought. You weren’t the only thing he’d been saddled with yesterday, and he turns to regard the thick gym bag he’d previously thrown against the far wall in anger. It’s where he’d gotten your pink onesie after you’d similarly soiled the first pair of clothes you’d been wearing. He hadn’t bothered to look through all of its contents just yet, but he felt relatively confident he’d find what he wanted in there.

Circling back around, Tomura squats in front of the bag and yanks it open. He can feel your eyes watching him from your spot on the floor but he pays it no mind. Digging inside, he pulls out a few more articles of clothing, far too cutesy for his tastes, and then a book on child care that he knows for certain was put there in jest. Over his shoulder it gets chucked, and he digs deeper. Down at the very bottom he finds exactly what he’d been looking for.

But in addition to the baby wipes there are two other items that catch his attention. He outright balks at the very notion - however, realistically speaking, it could very well be the answer to his problems. At least the most pressing one, anyway.

The idea that All for One knew he’d likely run into this issue but still decided to dump you on him anyway bothers Tomura a great deal and he frowns even as he looks over the packaging. Diapers and pull ups. What was the difference? He’s not so sure there is one, and he feels almost certain that they serve the same purpose. But further inspection proves him wrong. One was for a total lack of control and the other was for the potty training stage, so not as thick or absorbent. That’s what the packing said but, at any rate, they definitely weren't the plain adult brands he was looking at here.

These were bright and colorful, and he can’t help but cringe at the thought of putting you in either of them. But he was still left with a very real concern that he simply couldn’t overlook. The fact he even had to make this decision at all was ridiculous but he couldn’t very well have you pissing on every available surface in his room. And given your track record of absolutely drenching whatever you happened to be sitting on at the time …

Hesitantly, Tomura takes out the diapers and shuffles towards his unkempt bed. The print on the back wasn't particularly clear about what to do with them. He’d probably have to look up a tutorial later, when he wasn’t feeling quite so downtrodden and his balls weren’t aching, though that would certainly put him on a few watch lists. Not that it really mattered.

He sighs and tosses the package on top of his sheets before tearing into the baby wipes. Taking his time, he methodically scrubs his wrist and his legs clean while he contemplates his next move. It wasn’t going to be pretty. It certainly wasn’t going to be sexy. It was still probably the lesser of two evils, though. Far be it that he wanted to go this route but did he really even have any other choice at this point?

“Tomu-nii …”

Your soft whining draws him back to reality and, abruptly realizing you’ve been sitting in your own piss this entire time, he turns to look back at you. For a split second, he seriously considers just killing you right then and there. It would save him a lot of trouble and you wouldn’t even realize what was coming. You were so stupid you’d probably think he was going in for a hug or something asinine like that. He’d be doing you a favor, really, because as far as he was concerned, death was certainly preferable to wearing diapers but … the urge fizzles out almost as quickly as it had appeared. He wasn’t going to let you slip out of his hold until after he’d gotten to bury himself in that tight, pretty little pussy of yours.

Decision made, Tomura makes his way over to the carpet again. You look cold, which doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, and he bends down to grab the meat of your upper arms so he can drag you up to your feet. “Come on. I think I’ve got a solution.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Salution?”

“Close enough.”

Steering you over to the bed, he makes you bend over the mattress so he can take a baby wipe to the backs of your thighs and ass. Luckily, depending on how you looked at it, the urine had run down rather than going every which direction so it was pretty easy to clean up. The way you tremble and shift your weight back and forth makes it a bit more difficult than it needed to be but he manages, somehow.

Tomura straightens after a long moment, finally deeming the back of you good to go. He’s not so sure he can get through this next part when you were fidgeting so much, though, and he briefly considers the clothes in the gym bag. The thought of putting you in another girly, saccharine sweet garment repulses him almost as much as the thought of putting you in a diaper. But he was going to have to pick and choose his battles here and, reaching back, he delicately tugs off his t-shirt.

“Turn around.”

You slowly comply, teeth chattering the whole time.

“Arms up.”

At this, you hesitate. But at his expectantly bland look, you do as you're told and raise your arms up in the air. The lift of your heavy tits almost successfully distracts him and it is with a great deal of self control on his part that he pulls his shirt down over your head, yanking it a little too forcefully into place.

“There.” He practically hisses, watching you clumsily work your arms through the sleeves. “Is that better?”

You think about that for a moment, eyes scanning across the front of his shirt, and he briefly wonders if you’re going to say something derisive about the worn video game logo stretched across your chest. But then you smile, nodding your head a little too enthusiastically.

“Mm! It smells like Tomu-nii!”

He really couldn’t stand you.

“Good. In return, I’ll need you to cooperate with me here. I’ve never done this before, you know?”

You blink at him quizzically. “Done what?”

Tomura rolls his eyes, feeling grumpier by the second. He couldn’t wait to get this over with and have you situated so he could run off to the bathroom for what probably wouldn’t even amount to five minutes of desperate jerking. “Never mind. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

You nod your head again, but he has some very real doubts about that. Even when you were pretending to go along with whatever it was he wanted you still found some way to fuck everything up for him. If this scheme somehow backfired because your brain was so scrambled you couldn’t even follow simple directions, he was not going to be happy.

Mentally bracing himself for the worst possible outcome, he reaches for the diapers. He rips the bag open almost violently and pulls one out, but it feels even more wrong in his hands than he’d thought it would. A strange sense of scandalized affront warms his chest, making him reconsider this choice for the upteenth time. If Tomura was being completely honest, he felt embarrassed for you but a quick glance in your direction proves that you don’t share quite the same sentiment. You really couldn’t have cared less, huh?

Right. Baby brain.

He grumbles under his breath as he non too gently snaps the diaper open with a loud crinkle of plastic and lays it out close to the edge of his bed. Motioning you closer, Tomura awkwardly helps you get seated on the damn thing and then instructs you to lay down. You genuinely don’t seem to have a problem with this as you recline back, just placidly peering up at him with your little fists balled in the hem of his shirt, but now that he’s gotten this far he’s not sure how to proceed.

At a loss, he takes another baby wipe out of the package and inserts himself between your bent legs. “I’m going to clean you some more, okay?” He's not sure why he’s telling you that, especially when all you do is nod your dopey head in understanding. Just buying time. That’s all he was doing.

But it gives him a chance to think and for that he’s grateful. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to figure out what All for One’s intention with all this had been. ‘A splendid birthday present for my favorite pupil’, he’d said, as if there were any others. But what was the reason? Surely you weren’t actually supposed to be a sex slave for him. Not in this sorry state. His battered onahole did a much better job on that front and it wasn’t prone to tantrums or crying, and it certainly didn’t pee on his stuff. It also didn’t require more than a perfunctory cleaning every few months. He couldn’t very well shove you into his nightstand and forget about it until the next time he was in the mood to rut into something.

All that was true, yes, but … his onahole also wasn’t warm to the touch, and it didn’t have soft, curly hair framing its abused slit (he really should buy a new one) nor did it self lubricate. It didn’t squeeze him quite the same way your pussy had squeezed his fingers, and it didn’t even really feel like an actual vagina now that he had something to compare it to. You were soft and squishy, pliable in the way only flesh and blood could be, and although he had no way of knowing if this had been All for One’s plan or not, he was certainly self aware enough to recognize that he’d screwed up somewhere along the line.

Tomura absolutely should have turned you to dust while he still had the chance.

Licking his lips, he drags the wipe through the seam of your cunt much more slowly than he needed to. You don’t even stir on the bed, and he thinks you must be starting to doze after … all of that. He’s not quite ready to leave well enough alone yet though, and he gently presses down on the spot where he now knows your clit is hiding. Still using the moist towelette as a pretense to keep touching you like this, he circles the sensitive little bud with it and genuine surprise washes over him when you let out a soft, pleasant sigh.

He glances up at your face but you aren’t even looking at him, lashes fanned out against the apples of your cheeks. It’s hard to tell if you were actually asleep or just pretending so you could lull him into a false sense of security, yet he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. You were his so he could do whatever he wanted to you, right? Besides. You kind of owed him after pissing all over his hand like that.

Discarding the baby wipe, Tomura bends closer and carefully spreads your labia again. He could see your little hole weakly palpitating, beckoning him to pick back up where he’d left off, but he drags his gaze a bit higher instead. You were so velvety soft and smooth it bordered on insane, so much more inviting than he ever would have thought possible.

He briefly hesitates before throwing caution aside and sealing his lips around your clit, gently mouthing at it. Your plushy thighs twitch around his head as you shift on top of the mattress, letting out another breathy sound that rushes straight to his cock. It almost hurts, the way it so eagerly springs back to life after being denied something as simple as release, but he can’t find it in himself to complain. You were giving him another chance, knowingly or not, and he wasn’t the type to squander such an opportunity.

Tomura takes his time lapping at you over the next few minutes until you’re almost as wet as when he’d started. You taste heavenly even with the artificial flavor of the wipes clinging to your folds and he entertains the notion of eating you out until you cum all over his face. There’s something he wants even more than that, though, and he sighs in relief when he finally straightens up so he can fish his cock out. It was almost painfully sensitive to the touch, and he could feel it throbbing potently in his hand. He knew this probably wasn’t going to last long but he didn’t care.

Guiding himself to your waiting entrance, he slowly pushes in one fraction at a time, damn near blowing his load the second his glans disappears into your body. He holds back though, struggling to maintain his composure as he seethes through gritted teeth. You finally seemed to realize that something was going on and your pretty eyes flutter open, immediately searching out his face.

“Tomu-nii …?”

“Be quiet. I’ve got you.”

You accept that in lieu of an explanation surprisingly fast, at least by his standards, and without another word you sleepily glance down at the juncture where your bodies were connected. A slow inhale makes your chest rise, mouth falling open as if to groan. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” the sound rattles out of Tomura’s chest as he slides in right down to the base, toes flexing against the floor. “I’m not even gonna’ get to enjoy this.”

Brows knitting together, you let out the softest mewling sound he’s ever heard and it makes him dig his carefully poised fingers deeper into the meat of your hips. He can’t even bring himself to move, so overwhelmed by how soft and wet your guts are. It felt like you were massaging his length, involuntarily or not, as your pussy suckles at the tip like he’s almost positive your mouth would.

Softly wheezing, Tomura drops his chin to look at where the two of you were stuck together. His pelvis was so flush against yours that your pudgy cunt was molded to the front of him, squishing under the pressure, and his silvery pubes were tangled with your darker ones. He hadn’t expected such a sight to be so damn erotic and it has him twitching, fighting back the orgasm he’d gone through hell and back for.

He’s almost scared to do it but, slowly, he eases back. The way his cock gradually reappears, glistening obscenely now, very nearly sends him over the edge. He isn’t sure how he hasn’t ruptured yet, his ballsac drawn so tight and throbbing that it leaves him feeling lightheaded, but through sheer force of will alone he manages to sink back into the inviting heat of your body without spraying your insides white. His self control was tentative as best, hanging on by a mere thread, but you felt far too good to waste on a quick nut.

“Goddamn … you’re so tight, baby. So fucking tight.”

You fidget underneath him, fussily tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Mm’ not a baby …”

Your pouty little response is enough to make him bark out a clipped laugh, more breathless than amused. You could insist you weren’t a baby all you wanted but, even putting aside the cruel, infantile reprogramming of your brain, it was hard to think otherwise when you were spread out on top of a diaper. It’s stark white, cottony lining was an almost unsettling backdrop to the perfect view he had of his cock stuttering in and out of your slick cunt. Even when he was barely moving, it crinkled softly underneath you with each rocking motion of his hips and he couldn’t quite forget it was there no matter how hard he tried.

Tomura wasn’t sure what he would ultimately do with you and he knew even less why he was even entertaining this wildly absurd situation to begin with, but there was no denying that you did have some use. The clinging grip of your pussy, for starters, and if he could get that bratty mouth of yours under control he might even some day find your company bearable. He still didn’t particularly like you but it wasn’t so farfetched to think that he might be able to tolerate you, with enough effort.

Hissing through his teeth, he drags one of his hands down to spread your puffy lips apart and get a good look at the way your petal soft folds clutch to his cock. It was a mesmerizing visual in the worst possible way, especially when accompanied by the soft, wet clicking he pulls from your body. He could have watched this for hours on end but, realistically, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he gives his wrist a brief twist to bring the middle finger down on your clit.

You twitch at the contact but Tomura takes a much more gentle approach this time, sedately drawing circles around the swollen bud. He doesn’t get much in the way of a reaction for his trouble so he just keeps at it, rubbing you in tandem with his staggered thrusts. The thought of making you cum around his cock is almost disturbingly enticing, but he isn’t so sure he can accomplish that. Not when so much of his focus was devoted to simply biting back his orgasm - but then, to his throbbing surprise, you draw a faltering breath.

“Tomu-nii … feels good …”

It’s as if the air had been punched right out of him. He isn't so sure he even believes his own ears, the blood suddenly pounding inside of them making it hard to hear much of anything. He groans though, thick and heavy as he slides his other hand up across your stomach to push at the bottom of his shirt. Your grip on the soft cotton momentarily tightens, still fighting him at every turn, but you give in almost immediately and allow him to shove it over the swell of your tits.

They’re moving, jiggling ever so slightly with the push and pull of his narrow hips as they quietly slap against the backs of your thighs. Tomura heaves, practically doubling over you with another throaty moan that rises in pitch at the tail end. His palm descends on one of your breasts, squeezing hard enough that the pliable flesh bulges and spills out between four of his fingers. You just stare up at him the entire time, face pinched and flushed while your glistening eyes dreamily watch him with a far off sort of quality that he’s sure must be - has to be pleasure.

He’d never seen anything sexier in his whole life, and that thought alone is far more terrifying than he could have ever guessed it would be. There was something wrong with you, yes, by All for One’s design. But there was something even more inherently wrong with him for getting off on this so much and without the added bonus of quirk tampering to excuse his behavior. You were so sweet and unfairly innocent despite your seductive figure, the sight of you naked save his bunched up t-shirt driving him absolutely wild. It was like you belonged here, with him, in his bed. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted to kill you but that he couldn’t.

What little bit of self control he’d still been clinging to up until now shatters, and Tomura snaps his hips into your upturned ass: once, twice, three times. The sticky squelching between your bodies increases in volume, echoing inside his skull like a ricocheting bullet as he watches your face screw up at the sudden force. It doesn’t even matter though. He’s long since reached his limit and, with a wounded grunt, he slams into you one final time, lurching over your prone body.

The sound that comes out of his mouth as he shudders and violently paints your pink guts is, frankly, embarrassing. But he’s riding a high too great to care, clinging to you hard enough to make his joints ache and you whimper in discomfort. He can’t stop though. He’s cumming so hard, pulse after pulse, that it feels like his soul actually slips out of his body for a worryingly long beat before returning in fragmented pieces. The same, but also somehow different. Like he’d experienced rebirth in the warm, comforting clutch of your drenched cunt.

He wheezes as if he’d been stabbed in the chest when he finally eases his softening cock out of you some time later.

Tomura was completely spent, both physically and mentally. His wobbly legs could hardly support his weight anymore but, with a strength of mind he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he directs a shaky finger to your clit again. You squirm in response, huffing after that rough treatment, but he soothes you with hushed words and a gentle touch to the delicate little pearl he barely even needs to brush against to have you shaking for him.

“Relax. You feel good, don’t you? Let me hear those pretty sounds again, baby.”

Obstinately, you purse your lips together to deny him even that one simple request. Tomura heaves a tired sigh, wishing you weren’t such a brat, but he doesn’t let up. The gentle circles he rubs into your clit with the pad of his finger slowly brings you around though, grudgingly, and he can’t quite deny the satisfaction that sparks in his throat when your mouth warbles open to let loose the sweetest, tiny moan he’s ever heard.

“Nngh … Tomu-nii …!”

“Don't fight it. I want you to feel good too, yknow.” He pauses, tongue glancing over his dry lips. “Will you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, eyes screwing shut, but the way your body continues to tense up seems to suggest otherwise. He could tell you were practically thrumming with it, burning from the inside out even as his milky white discharge slowly oozes down your slit to pool in the seat of the diaper. It was unexpectedly exciting to watch, disproportionately naughty given how utterly unappealing the crinkly plastic was at first glance, and he picks up the pace of his rubbing.

“I think you’re lying again. You liked how it felt when I was inside you, right? This will be even better, I promise. You’ll love it. I know you will.”

Weakly writhing on top of his bed, you crack your eyes open to peer up at him again. “T - Tomu-nii … I can’t … ahh. Ahh. Ahh! I … I’m … ahh! Tomu-niiiii!”

You suddenly jerk, tossing your head back against the sheets, and he watches in rapt fascination as you quake so hard it nearly catches him off guard. It wasn’t the seductive, rolling tremors he was used to seeing in porn videos but, rather, a full bodied spasm that had you twisting as if to get away. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his hand but he elbows them apart, refusing to let up until he’d milked your orgasm as thoroughly as you’d milked his.

And you looked so pretty, too. Caught up in mind numbing pleasure so intense he couldn’t even begin to fathom what you were feeling. Even his own earth shattering release seemed to pale in comparison to this, and it takes you much longer to start coming down from it than it did him.

Your hair is a mess by the time you’re done, matted in some places and sticking to your damp forehead in others. For a fleeting moment, Tomura can almost see the adult woman you should have been when your face goes slack in ecstasy and your flushed lips were parted to suck in as much oxygen as you could get. He imagines you were probably no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, not with that body and those looks, so the thought that he could make you feel this good was a bit like a pat on the back for him. It was probably just beginners luck, but that didn’t stop him from feeling any less proud of himself.

Slowly, he takes his hands off you and steps back. The spot between your legs was absolutely covered in fluid, your sticky, copious slick mixing with his spunk to make a truly viscous concoction that clung to your damp curls. He thinks that he should probably clean you up again and reaches for the baby wipes, but stops himself short.

The idea that crosses his mind is very likely foul, perhaps even more offensive than anything else he’d done til now, but … a quick glance at your sloppy pussy proves too great a temptation. There was something inherently erotic about making you walk around with his semen dripping out of you, even if it was only going to be absorbed by the diaper, and he shuffles close again with his heart in his throat.

Tomura hasn’t the slightest clue what he’s doing and it takes him a long moment to figure out the tape tabs on the sides. He gets frustrated halfway through the process, struggling to make sure the crinkly plastic was secure enough around your waist, but by some miracle you stay relatively still through all of his fumbling. He isn’t quite sure how he got so lucky but he doesn’t stop to question it, hawkishly focusing all of his attention on the task at hand.

At length, he straightens to admire his work. It’s not perfect by any means but he’s pretty sure the damned thing wasn’t going to fall off as soon as you stood up so there was that. The diaper itself was just as obnoxiously girly as everything else in the gym bag; a soft, lilac purple with a flowery, cartoon bunny design on them. He didn’t mind the rabbits so much, and it was certainly preferable to the onesie, but he still thought you’d look nice in something a bit cooler.

The realization that he was thinking about this in such quaint, fuzzy terms chills Tomura to the bone, and his gaze flicks to your face so he can ask what you think of them. Even if only to distract himself from his own uncomfortably perverse change of heart.

But you were already asleep. He probably should have expected as much, and he could tell you were actually snoozing this time by the shallow, even rise and fall of your chest. A strange sense of embarrassment washes over him and he reaches out to delicately take the hem of his shirt between thumb and finger so he can tug it back down into place. You only snuggle further into the mattress though, getting comfortable, and further cementing the notion that he had, indeed, fucked up.

He’d never be able to get rid of you now.

Grumbling under his breath, Tomura leans over you with one hand braced on the mattress. The other slips between your legs, unable to squeeze shut now with the bulk of the diaper between them, and ever so carefully cups his palm over your crotch. It was cool to the touch, but if he pushed down hard enough he could feel the warmth of your body bleeding through. You let out a quiet huff in response, petulant towards him even in your sleep, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing. It was absurd. It was strange. It was strikingly, unequivocally weird, but he was almost glad he hadn’t disintegrated you or strangled you to death.

This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d wished for a woman he could do with as he pleased and not have to worry about her running away, but … it was close enough, he supposed.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #self insert bullshit #my writing #I'll tag the series later #I don't know if I want this to show at the top of the main tags seems a bit like inviting trouble #I've wanted to write something like this for a very very long time and I just took advantage of Shigaraki's birthday to finally do it #blah #I make him cry bout' the pussy #prolly why my shit so wet #ahh 👅

[fanfickittycat]

One of Us

Title: One of Us

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen (anime)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Fic Summary: You return to Tokyo where you are reunited with the man who broke your heart a decade ago

Rating: T

A/N: my first Nanami fic!!! I love him so much. Just a simple one-shot about rekindling your love after being apart with a fluffy ending. Yes, the title is an ABBA reference, no I will not be taking any questions on it at this time. If you'd like to read this on AO3 then you can here otherwise the fic is below the cut. Let me know what you thought!!!

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

“Kento” you said, tasting the way his name sounded for the first time “I love you too.” He took it as permission to lean down, capturing your lips against his in a kiss that you had been dreaming of since you’d met. He was still cautious as always, not wanting to push you too much, but you couldn’t help but enthusiastically pull him closer, standing on the tips of your toes to be closer to him. You shivered when he opened his mouth to take your bottom lip between his own, sucking on the plump skin as you felt a whisper of wind snake around the two of you, depositing fallen petals on your shoulders like confetti.

#updates #my writing #fanfickittycat #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk one shot #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfic

[kuroopaisen]

per auda ad astra. (tendou satori)

➵ latin. “through hardships to the stars.” you and tendou have been through everything together. so of course you’ll lend him a hand when he needs a date.

wc: 2.5k

warnings: references to bullying

“I have a favour to ask,” Tendou smiled, tilting his head at you.

You raised an eyebrow at him. Tendou had popped over for a ‘quick visit.’ But, while you were preparing yourself a tea for what would inevitably be a long conversation, he’d decided to spring the real reason for his visit on you. “Mhm?”

“Would you please come to dinner with my parents?” Tendou pursed his lips together. “Pretty please?”

“Why do you say that like you’re asking me to run a marathon in nothing but my underwear?” You bit back a smirk. “It’s just dinner with your parents.”

“Well,” Tendou took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed. “I need you to pretend to be my partner. Just this once.”

Your entire body froze. “Excuse me?”

“I know!” Tendou waved his hands at you, his face a strange mix of alarm and confidence. “It’s just for this one dinner!”

“Why though?”

“My parents are a trifle miffed that I haven’t found someone to settle down with.” A whisper of a blush graced his cheeks. “They’ll start taking matters into their own hands if I’m not careful.”

“Yikes,” you murmured, turning back to tend to your tea.

“And I was thinking,” Tendou hummed, propping his chin on his hand, “you already know them, right? We just need to get our little lie straight, and it’ll be easy sailing.”

“Worried someone else’ll think this is unethical?” You raised an eyebrow at him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Maybe,” he drawled, tilting his head at you. “But c’mon, it’ll just be dinner with my parents. All you’d have to do is hold my hand and tell them you���ve had a thing for me this entire time.”

You laughed, ignoring the strange tightening in your chest. “You’re really scared of them setting you up with someone, huh?”

“They will!” He groaned, laying his arms across your kitchen counter. “They’ve already sent me a list. Do you know how awkward that is?”

“Anyone I know on it?”

“There’s no way in hell you’ll ever find out,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and propping his chin on them.

“Really?” You grinned. “Will you tell me if I pretend to be your partner?”

Tendou glared at you through narrowed eyes. “I thought I could trust you to have my back.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s really this much of a big deal?”

“Look, every time I’ve gone home alone, at least half of dinner is spent talking about my marriage,” Tendou groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’d like to avoid that for once, you know? And hopefully stave off and awkward dates arranged by my parents.”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed, waving a hand at him. “But you owe me one, okay?”

--------  

You’d known Tendou for pretty much your whole life. He’d been your next-door neighbour growing up, and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time before he’d made a lasting impression of you.

You were young; you didn’t know what the world expected from you. You didn’t know how people could be cruel. All you knew was that you liked the little red-headed boy from next door, and you enjoyed spending time with him.

You didn’t have many specific memories of your past together, but you remembered what it felt like; free, comfortable, full of possibility. The feeling that you could do absolutely anything, so long as you believed hard enough.

Afternoons drowned in the fading sunlight, chasing one another down the street as you embroiled yourself in some fantastical game. June days spent in the mud, making cakes or starting fights.

You remembered the stars best of all.

On an evening when your parents were feeling particularly lenient, you’d be allowed to pop over to Tendou’s for a sleepover. And an absolutely vital part of that was clambering up to his roof and looking out at the stars.

And, with the sense of surety only afforded to children, you’d named them yourselves. There was a dragon, of course, and a witch. According to Tendou, the dragon had the potential to swallow the entire earth – and if it weren’t for the efforts of the witch, we would all be doomed. He also insisted that the witch was quite a looker. You’d been too young to really care.

The witch also had a kitsune as a sidekick, whose nine tails seemed to spread out into infinity. Tendou insisted that a new tail grew every one hundred years, and that soon enough the sky would be drowned by those stars.

You’d snorted at that. But the thought stuck with you, resurfacing a couple of years later when you learnt of how stars were born.

Primary school had been as awful as you’d dreaded it would be. You managed to escape it more or less unscathed; you’d managed to slip into relative anonymity. But Tendou?

It was the first time you’d noticed that he was different. Unique. And everyone else noticed, too.

But they didn’t see things the same way you did.

You remembered some days with uncomfortable clarity; sitting behind the school, his scuffed knees brought up to his chest, face buried in his legs to hide it from you. You, knowing nothing other than holding his hand.

You’d wanted to do something. But you’d felt nothing but fear. And for many years after that, you’d carried the shame with you.

Tendou knew. And, bless his soul, he insisted you had nothing to feel bad about. But words weren’t enough.

Middle school had been easier. Tendou’s modus operandi changed; no more tears. No more submission. He didn’t fight back so much as guard himself. It seemed as if he’d gained some confidence.

You knew it was a lie; a cloak he’d put on to guard himself from the cold. But it worked, to some degree.

And better yet, he’d gotten quite good at volleyball. That, more than anything, was his armour.

You’d always be grateful for the volleyball team. For how they’d accepted him. They, more than anyone else up til that point, seemed to see him as you did. As someone full of virtue. Warmth may not have been the defining quality of those relationships, but they’d given him support in a way others never had. And they’d valued what he could give them, too.

He still spoke to some of them, even after all this time.

It was all you could’ve asked for. And even though they didn’t make it to nationals in your third year, you knew that he had no regrets. That even if he wouldn’t continue on with the sport, he’d done himself proud.

And even in the midst of all that, you two still found time to climb onto that roof and look at your stars. And every year, the witch’s chest seemed to grow more and more ample.

You’d ended up at the same university by some stroke of luck. It certainly wasn’t planned, and you’d both been preparing yourselves for what would inevitably be a painful goodbye.

But, it had continued like always. You and him, arms linked and heads thrown back in laughter. And he’d flourished at university in ways he hadn’t before. He’d really found his feet, and grown into someone he could be proud of. And you’re proud of him, too.

And through all your own hardships and successes, he’d been there. Cheering you on, lending you a hand… whatever you needed, you knew you could rely on Tendou for it.

You simply couldn’t imagine your life without him.

And all that’s running through your mind as you sit there at the dinner table, doing your absolute best to appear the adoring partner.

“Well, I thought you and Satori would’ve been married years ago,” his mother laughed.

You blushed at that. “I…”

She, in particular, had been the most delighted when you’d shown up at the door. Tendou hadn’t told his family who is ‘partner’ was; surely a tactic meant to simplify the web of lies.

“Love is blind, mother,” Tendou sighed, giving your hand a little squeeze. “And deaf. And mute. And it has a tendency not to realise itself til it’s too late.”

Confound and distract. Good tactic?

“I don’t think you used that idiom quite right,” you mumbled to it.

He shrugged.

“So, when are you getting engaged?” There was a twinkle to his grandfather’s eye that you didn’t like.

You cringed.

“All in good time,” Tendou said. You almost envied his total lack of anxiety. “You can’t rush this sort of thing, you know.” He tilted his head at him, lips curling into a smile. “Besides, you’re just trying to embarrass me.”

His grandfather chuckled, but said no more.

“Now, tell me darling, what have you been up to recently?” His mother had turned her kindly smile to you once more. And even though you felt awful for lying to her, it was comforting.

So, you told her. And as you were talking, you began to realise just how comfortable Tendou’s hand felt in yours.

You’d started your trip holding hands, in an attempt to ‘get in character.’ You weren’t going to pull this off if you couldn’t show casual affection to one another. But something about holding his hand felt… right. His fingers may be long and lanky, and still calloused from his stint with volleyball, but they fit so nicely with yours. You were doing your best not to think about it.

There was plenty of talk about the old times. Not that you were surprised by that in particular. What did surprise you was how many damn stories his family had about times they’d suspected the two of you were dating.

If Tendou had brought someone else home, would his family tell them stories of you?

But all that aside, it all flowed very naturally. His parents believed you; no need for them to get involved in his private life. You didn’t have to think up some lie to keep track of; you just told the truth, with a little embellishment. It felt so easy.

You finished dinner without a slip-up. His family had been completely fooled; and some part of you felt bad about the fallout to come. You could envision the look on his mother’s face quite clearly.

While this had been easy for the two of you, you had a feeling that made it much harder for everyone else.

You tried not to think about it as you lay on the roof, looking up at the stars you knew so well.

It’s fairly easy to see the stars in Miyagi. Easier than it is in the bigger cities. It’s probably the thing you miss most about your hometown – people aside.

You still can’t identify any of the major clusters. The only constellations were the ones you’d made together. Truth be told, the outlines you two had drawn were tenuous at best. But they were yours, and you cherished them for that.

And on that roof, you felt you might talk the night away. Something about being under the stars made you feel vulnerable. It made you feel ready to bare your soul. Some of your deepest conversations had taken place up here; the trading of fears and hopes, of those feelings you dare not show anyone else.

And to think, you were back here because Tendou needed to get his parent’s off his back.

“Thank you,” Tendou mumbled. “For doing this.”

You smiled at him. “Not a problem.”

You were laid out on his roof, maybe a hand’s width apart. It was a bit more difficult to fit, as adults. But that hadn’t stopped you when you were teenagers.

“Tell me, Satori,” you smiled, your eyes wandering the skies, “what does the witch look like again?”

“I’m not letting you bait me like that,” he grinned.

“Oh? Is that… shame that I hear?” You turned to look at him. He was already looking at you through the dark. The moonlight looked quite flattering on him.

Even after all this time, things with Tendou are so… easy. So relaxed. You never have to worry about being anyone other than yourself. And nobody celebrated you the way he had.

You wanted him to stick around. It was a gentle realisation; one the came as a relief.

“You know, this almost went too well,” he chuckled, looking up at the sky again. “We’d’ve almost fooled me, if I wasn’t so careful.”

You felt his hand brush yours. Was that intentional?

Maybe it would be better if you’d been fooled. Maybe that’s how things should be.

“Hey… Satori?”

“Mhm?”

You fought the urge to take his hand. “When we get back, would you…” You took a deep breath. You had to say it. You wanted to. “Would you like to go on a date?”

His eyes were wide and bright as he stared at you.

“I mean…” God, this was a bit awkward, wasn’t it? You hadn’t even given him time to reply and you were already trying to fill the silence. “If you’re not interested, please pretend that I didn’t say anything.”

Tendou laughed. “Oh, don’t think I’ll be forgetting this any time soon. I’ve gotta take the few boosts to my ego I get.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, torn halfway between smiling and decking him in the face. “I was being serious!”

“I know, I know,” Tendou grinned, taking your hand in his as he looked back at the sky. It’d been so smooth and natural that you hadn’t really noticed it. “How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Keep the momentum going.” He flashes you a look, grinning. “Gotta make you fall for me before you decide this is a terrible idea.”

“See, when you say it like that—”

“Please don’t take it back,” he blurted.

“I wasn’t going to,” you laughed. “You’re…” You wanted to say that he was the most important person in your life. But you didn’t quite have the words for that, yet. “You mean a lot to me, okay?”

Even in the dark, you could see his face turning as red as his hair. “Geez… you can’t just say that to a guy, you know?”

“What? I can’t be honest?”

“Well you can be honest, you’ve just… gotta prepare me for such a hit.”

“Pft,” you shook your head, looking for the dragon in the stars. Maybe it was all a bit sudden. And maybe you were being a little too honest. But it felt right. And you felt that if you didn’t say something now, you’d just come to regret it later.

“You mean a lot to me, too.” His voice is quiet, and there’s a slight tremble to it. But it’s honest.

You squeezed his hand in response. For now, there didn’t need to be any more words. Just the two of you, hand in hand, looking up at the stars. The way it had always been.

“Hey.” He tapped your hand with his thumb.

“Hm?”

“What are we gonna do about the bed?”

#haikyuu x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou satori #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #friends-to-lovers week #haikyuuwritersnet #i love him this one's eh but he's a good kid #THIS IS THE LAST ONE I CAN'T BELIEVE

[kaistarus]

The Key to Love is Timing

Pairings: Hinata X Reader

Words: 3.5K

Summary: If the first confession fails... Just bottle it up for a few years and hope for the best? Hinata messed up the first time, but he's not one for quitting.

Notes: This has lots of manga spoilies. I just love time-skip Hinata and he deserves more content 🥰 

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Karasuno high school loomed in front of you. The place that served as a sanctuary for so many years, helping you build lasting friendships and memories in classrooms that would soon be filled with new freshmen to take your place. It was bittersweet knowing your locker would soon belong to someone else, but you could only hope it would serve them as well as it had you.

Almost everyone had left the school grounds since it was nearing sundown, but you needed a while longer to say goodbye. You trailed your hand down the granite pillar that held the small canopied entrance. You were never good with goodbyes, and it would be hard to leave your friends behind. You’d made your plans to keep in touch and although you were the realistic type you still held had hope it could work out.

There was only one person you had avoided talking to...

“(Y/N)!”

You inhaled slowly before glancing over your shoulder at the boastful voice coming from across the courtyard. Hinata. You were hoping you’d run into him, whether you’d let yourself admit it or not. You noticed his sleeves were rolled up his forearms and that the schoolbag hung casually over his shoulder contained his uniform jacket-the sleeve hanging out loosely-as he pushed his bike toward you.

“Hey, yourself,” you tightened the grip on your own bag and languidly came to meet him at the front of the entrance. He was slightly out of breath when he reached out, taking large gulps of air to gather himself before speaking.

“I was hoping you would be here. I lost track of time and was worried I missed you.” He gave a crooked grin that made your heart skip.

“Well, I figured it would take you forever to say good-bye to Kageyama.”

He tilted his head in confusion before his face lit up. “You were waiting for me?”

Your eyes widened at your mistake. “No. I mean, I didn’t not want to see you, like, if we bumped into each other that would’ve been cool, but I wasn’t purposely trying to waste time...”

Smooth.

You found yourself unable to meet Hinata’s eyes until you heard a lighthearted laugh. His genuine smile was framed with unruly autumn hair that contrasted the cherry blossoms of spring that were flying through the air. You broke your Hinata induced trance when you realized he had swiped your bag from your grip.

“Um, excuse me?”

Instead of responding he took to placing your bag on the opposite handlebar from his own bag and pushing his bike ahead of you. You blinked, confused, before catching up to the boy.

“Since when do you carry bags?” You raised an eyebrow while gesturing to the bike. “Usually you whine about how it’s abuse I’m making you push your own bike.”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it,” he shrugged and turned away from you which only raised your suspicion that he was up to something. If he tried to steal your bag or pull some last day of school prank on you… you were so not in the mood.

“Wait, where are we going?” You realized you’d just been following the familiar backroad without thought. “Are you walking me home?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t we going to the halfway point? My house is completely out of the way.” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at Hinata’s scrunched up face. “You’re acting really weird. Should I be concerned?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking about doing it professionally.” You stuck your tongue out at his deadpan glare and ignored the grumbling that followed. You focused on the warmth in your chest as you teased him and not the lurking dread that dweld with every step closer to your house.

“When do you leave for University?” Hinata’s question made your stomach twist.

“April,” you shrugged. “I leave for Tokyo a few weeks before classes start.” The silence that followed was unbearable. “When… do you leave?”

“Two days.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned to him. You had figured he would be leaving quickly, but you always envisioned a month or two at least. Your time had been wasted and you didn’t even realize.

“That’s…”

“Soon.” He finished. You nodded slowly. “I wanted to start training as soon as possible. I need to learn everything I can about beach volleyball so I can be the best player possible.”

“I’m so happy for you, Hinata.”

And you were. Even if the smile on your face felt a bit forced you knew that you truly meant those words. So you ignored the ache in your heart because it came from a selfish part of you that was scared to lose someone you cared too deeply for. Someone who had the courage to chase their passions to new continents. You shoved down the pain and focused on your admiration at his continuous drive for self-discovery and improvement.

There was no time to pity yourself.

“We’ve both got adventures ahead of us,” Hinata said with an ear to ear grin on his face. You could only nod in agreement because Tokyo was nothing like Brazil, but you had your own sense of self-discovery you supposed. Slowly, Hinata’s face dropped into something more weary and his eyes drifted to his feet. “But…”

“But?”

“It’ll be weird not seeing you all the time,” he started, lifting his head to the sky. You followed his gaze, but found nothing of interest beside the cloudless sky slowly fading to peach hues as the sun set. “I mean, you won’t be coming to my games or bullying me at school.”

“I don’t bully you.” You deadpanned.

He waved you off. “You won’t be able to come over and help me teach Natsu volleyball when she complains I’m not a good enough teacher either.”

“Well, not everyone understands your ‘wam’ and ‘zoom’ into a ‘fwump’!” You said while moving your arms into random receives and spikes to match the sounds.

“Nishinoya did,” he narrowed his eyes. “Whatever, the point is you’ll be gone and… I’m going to miss you.” He glanced over quickly. “More than the average person.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You nudged his shoulder. “Lighten up. You’re acting so weird today.”

“I’m not acting weird…”

“You are!” A gust of wind sent cherry blossoms floating toward you from the trees that perched along your path. You held out your hand and let a few settle into your palm before smirking at the boy beside you. “Cherry blossoms, carrying my bag, talking all mushy. If you were anyone else I’d think this was some poor attempt at a love confession.”

Hinata stumbled over his steps before pausing all together and you furrowed your brow at him before realization struck you. His face had blossomed red in a furious blush and his eyes were set on you determinedly in a way that had your heart racing.

Your mouth went dry. “Hinata-”

“I’m not good with words.” He took a shuddering breath and his fists clenched. “Going to Brazil is my dream, but when I think about you not being there I kinda feel like I’m gonna throw up or something. And when I’m not thinking about volleyball I’m usually thinking about when I get to see you next so…” He glanced up at you more confidently and you started to panic. You’d wanted this for so long but… “I don’t know a lot of things, but I know that I love volleyball. So, it would only make sense that I also lo-”

“Stop.” You put your hand up between you both. “You can’t…”

“What are you talking about?” He tilted his head confused. “I’m pretty sure I can. I mean I’ve been debating it for at least a year now so-”

“A year?” Your eyes widen before you shake it off. “Nevermind, I meant not now. Not when you’re about to leave and I’m about to start university and…” You clench the material of your pleated skirt. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

He furrowed his brow at you and his eyes scanned your face. “How wouldn’t it be fair?”

You took a few shaky breaths to calm yourself and to hold back the unshed tears that burn in the back of your eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden to your training in-”

“You would never be a-”

“But it’d feel that way.”

His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth while he was deep in thought. You always found that a cute quirk, but now you were just desperate to know what possibly was going on in his head. He scratched the back of his head and glanced toward the sky once again, but like before you saw nothing of interest there.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your eyes once more. “Next time then.”

You blinked. “Next… time?”

He gave you a crooked grin. “Yep, it’s not like I’ll be gone forever.”

It seemed like such a silly thing to cry over such a naive promise, like he would actually still have feelings for you when or if he ever decided to come back to Japan. The realistic part of you knew it was a childish fantasy, but let him believe his bold words like you knew only Hinata could. However, the hopeful part of you, the one that leaked tears the moment Hinata’s smiling face was out of view, clung to the idea of his dramatic return and your tragic love story.

But days turned to months, and months turned to years, and you were no longer a child. You had come to terms that the world wasn't made for fairy tale endings.

 ~*~*~*~

 Nearly four years had passed since that day and for the most part you had moved on from it. You take a deep breath before flashing your laminated badge to the security guard that would allow you to enter the massive gymnasium. No matter how many times you come to these venues it still gives you a thrill being around the chaotic environment. The crowd’s chants, scuffling of athletes shoes, coaches encouraging shouts and rushed commands all created a cacophony unmatched by anything you’d ever heard. It was a no brainer that you were addicted to the atmosphere, eventually building yourself a career that allowed you to become a part of it all.

You had plenty of time before the match started to conduct the interview you’d been assigned for that day. You glanced at the scoreboard and a nervous ball hit the pit of your stomach at seeing MSBY Black Jackals vs Schweiden Adlers. You attributed it to the number of people in the audience, rather than the person you’d been lucky enough to be assigned to interview.

Nope. This definitely had nothing to do with Hinata Shoyo.

As you unnecessarily prepared your notes, pen, and recorder for the fifteenth time since you’d arrived at the arena you glanced into the audience. Your eyes landed on Yamaguchi and Yachi waving wildly to you from the stands and you waved back, taking note of the empty seat Yachi was pointing to beside her. Looks like you’d be staying for the match after all.

You stretched your arms above your head and let out a sigh, adjusting your blazer before glancing over your shoulder to where MSBY had now filtered onto the sidelines. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tufts of orange hair bouncing between the team and you hadn’t even noticed your soft smile until Bokuto was pointing in your direction. Hinata’s head whipped toward you and you felt yourself freeze. If you were back in high school you’d probably describe this moment of staring into his amber eyes as magical in some way, but you just felt embarrassed you couldn’t remain composed while on the job.

He sends you a crooked grin and with a light shove from Atsumu he’s jogging over in your direction. You take a deep breath to center yourself before he’s way too close in your personal bubble.

“Hey.” He smirked at you. It was a familiar look, but he carried it differently. He radiated a newfound confidence that he didn’t have last time you’d seen him. Had he also gotten taller?

“Hi.” You breathed out. Internally cursing yourself for allowing him to have such an effect on you after so many years.

“You, uh, look really nice” He said, amber eyes bright and genuine. They were still so open, like shameless windows to his every emotion. At least that hadn’t changed.

“You look pretty good too.” You said quickly switching your focus to your notes. “How’s being back?”

“Trying to give me a pre-interview?” He smirked, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Don’t think I agreed to that one.”

“Just trying to get a better feel for the client,” you shrugged. “Not required, I suppose.”

“Client?” He pouted.

“This is a paid interaction.”

“Well, let’s keep it PG cause I’m really only good at volleyball for now,” he smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Your face dusted light pink at the suggestion. Yeah, he’d definitely matured over the last four years.

“Here’s the questions I’ll be asking,” you decided to ignore him, along with the cute pout he gave at being ignored, and get straight to business. “I’m going to be recording our conversation for my writing, so don’t worry about stumbling or speed or anything. Just relax and take your time.” Hinata’s eyes were soft when you looked back up to make sure he was paying attention. “What?”

“You’re just so cool.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek to calm your nerves. “It’s not that special. I’m just doing my job.”

“But you’re so good at it. You look badass.”

You shrugged. “I’m going to start the recording now,” you said and the moment he nodded in acknowledgement you pressed record. “Hinata Shoyo. MSBY player 21.” You said, marking the interview for yourself to which he just raised an eyebrow. “So, this is your first interview, right?”

“I had small ones in Brazil, but this is my first one as a professional player in Japan.” He smiled widely. “I made sure you were the first interview I had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I got a few offers, but they didn’t matter to me if it wasn’t you doing them.”

You blinked at the confession, and found yourself lagging as you looked for the next question. “Um-okay, well, this is your first professional game this season on the starting line-up. What made you choose MSBY?”

“They were the best team at the time having try-outs!” Hinata crossed his arms and nodded. “I have to beat Kageyama after all.”

“It had nothing to do with Bokuto?” You tilted your head. You honestly thought he picked based on friendship.

“Nope, but that was an awesome coincidence!” He leaned closer to you and you looked around awkwardly. “So, what made you choose to be a sports journalist for volleyball? Anyone important in your life?”

Your heart began beating rapidly in your chest and you pushed Hinata’s face back with your notepad. “I’m sorry. I thought I was conducting the interview.”

“Well, as the client I feel I would be most comfortable answering my questions in a back-and-forth style.” He smiled innocently and you deadpanned. “Also, this is my first time, remember? I’m still learning.”

You rolled your eyes before deciding to just humor him. “I knew a kid in high school. Pretty obsessed with volleyball, so I spent a lot of time around it.”

“He sounds pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, it really depends on the day.” You said, making Hinata pout and grumble under his breath. “So, you went to Brazil for your career. How was it different there?”

“Beach volleyball is so different. It's an entirely new game compared to here. Less hands, more feet. There’s the wind and then the sand. It was really hard getting used to.”

“Will you be using some of that technique tonight?” You asked.

“On the court or...?” He smirked slyly with mirth dancing in his eyes. You glared at him and he sighed. “I mean, yeah. You’re staying for the game, right?”

“Um--I...yeah.” You answered awkwardly, looking between Hinata and the notes. He raised an eyebrow at your weird response.

“Are you dating someone?” He asked bluntly.

“What?” Your ears shot to your shoulders at his question, but he just looked at you calmly. “I-What does that-Why?”

“Cause you’re acting weird.”

You furrowed your brow and glared at the courts flooring beneath you. ““How do you think Brazil has impacted your playstyle?”

“You’re avoiding my question,” he said as you continued to avoid the question. He let out a groan before continuing. “You’ll definitely see it through my receives and blocking. I think it’ll really surprise people in my first match back.” Hinata answered smoothly. “So, are you single or…?”

You raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

“Duh,” he scoffed, dragging a hand down his face.

You sighed dramatically. “No, I’m not dating someone currently.”

“Currently!?”

“Oh my god, we’re like 22. Yes, I dated someone for a while just...” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I heard you were called Ninja Shoyo in Brazil. Do you know where that came from?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m Japanese.” He waved it off and you furrowed your brow grumpily at his lazy response.

“Hinata you have to at least try to-”

“Do you still love me?”

You choke on your breath and nearly let the recorder slide out of your hands, but Hinata manages to grab it with quick reflexes. He holds it between you, tilting his head with an inquisitive stare.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Because I still love you.” He declared, refusing to break eye-contact as he finally confessed what he’d held on to for so long. “Have for over four years. I kept waiting for the right time, and I’m finally back now for good so… I feel like this is it.”

You stood there in disbelief and tightened your grip around your notebook in an attempt to ground yourself. This was not part of your plan. You had given up on this long ago. “There’s no way you still-”

“It never faded. There were a few times I wished it would,” he looked away almost shamefully. “Only when it hurt a lot, like, when I felt really alone. But even when I tried I just couldn’t. I’d read your articles and everything would come back, ya know?”

You nodded slowly. You remember how it felt when Yachi sent you the article about ‘Ninja Shoyo’. The way your heart had leapt just from seeing his picture. You had stayed up the entire night rereading the poorly translated article and telling yourself you just missed an old friend, nothing more.

You dumping your boyfriend a week later had absolutely nothing to do with it…

“It’s complicated.” You settled on. There were too many factors now.

“Then we can figure it out,” his wide smile nearly sent a thrum through your heart you’d been unknowingly yearning for. “No need to overthink. We have plenty of time.”

Your heart swelled at the words and their implications. “I guess… there is.”

“You said you’re staying for the game?” He asked, which you confirmed with a nod. “Awesome. We can eat and catch up or something.” His eyes widened as he waved his hands between you. “Doesn’t need to be a date. We can just hang out like old times.”

“But what if... I want to call it a date?” You asked nearly above a whisper, twisting the ball of your foot into the ground.

Hinata paused before breaking out into a crooked smile. “Then I’d be fucking thrilled, but no pressure. Okay?”

A whistle sounded and you both turned to see the MSBY’s coach waving to Hinata as the rest of his team took the court for warm-ups. You frowned at the sheet in your hands. “We barely made through the questions…”

“There’s tons of material on here,” Hinata winked as he pressed your recorder into your palm. “You can interrogate me with whatever after the game too.”

You smiled affectionately at him as another warning whistle came from his coach. He apologized to you quickly before running off toward the court. Your cheeks warmed when Bokuto ruffled Hinata’s hair and Atsumu gave a few suggestive looks in your direction while whispering in Hinata’s ear. But when he gave Atsumu a shove, his face a flaming red, you knew you hadn’t been kidding anyone.

The lights dimmed in the arena and you made your way to where Yachi had been seated in the stands. You kept glancing toward the sunshine boy who managed to light up your life the second he returned. Someone with that strong of a magnitude couldn’t help but attract everyone around him.

As he bounced around the court, laughing boastfully with Bokuto, the only thought in your head was that it should have been obvious. Of course you had never stopped loving him.

How could anyone stop loving someone like him.

#haikyū!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hinata #shoyo hinata #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo #hinata x reader #love hiimmmmm #this got so long #i don't even know #more self indulgence #manga spoilers #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyo x reader

[unmaskedagain]

Truth is Subjective

            This post is based off a prompt by #galahadwilder. I give all credit to them for the idea.

This did not turn out the way I wanted it to. AT ALL. I completely missing the mark; or in this case prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to make it work like I had envisioned when I first read the prompt. And now I’m just like ugh. L

  When Ladybug saw Alya frantically waving her down from where she was on top of her apartment roof. It was, nearly after midnight. She just finished off an Akuma. However, emotions had been running high among the students in her class so Ladybug didn’t hesitate to see what was wrong. Alya made not have been her best friend, or any type of friend, anymore but Ladybug was still a hero.

           A hero who was not happy to see Lila Rossi standing next to her.

           The Italian girl looked pleasant at first glance but anger was clear in her eyes. Alya had her phone out. It took all of two seconds for Marinette to figure out what was going on. Alya wanted an interview with Ladybug and her supposed best friend. Lila was sure Ladybug would reveal the truth like she did last time.

           Marinette fought to keep the grin off her face. She had idea. A rather wicked idea. She had taken to spending a lot of time with Jagged and Penny and Audrey Bourgeois, watching how they manipulated the news to better suit their individual brands. She now know that even if she told Alya what a liar Lila was, Lila could and would easily spin it to say that “Ladybug said that to protect me”. And Alya would just believe it.

           Not this time, Marinette vowed.

“Ladybug!” Alya beamed and immediately jumped into the interview, “I’ve been trying to catch you for months.”

“I know,” Ladybug said coolly.

           Marinette had decided that if Alya couldn’t check her facts, then Ladybug couldn’t work with her. She had been reporting too much false information and more or less become a site dedicated to shipping Ladybug with Chat Noir and promoting Lila’s B.S.

           Alya didn’t seem to notice the frost in the air. “We’re live streaming for the Ladyblog,” She said. “Ladybug and Lila Rossi; best friends forever.” She said waving her phone between the two. “Ladybug, Lila what’s it look being friends. Lila said she helped you rescue a bunch of people when you still lived in Italy. Before you became Ladybug!”

           Lila looked sick, “Now, it was so long ago. She probably doesn’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, Alya, but this interview is over,” Ladybug responded and before reporter could protest, she added. “I refuse to give an interview with my stalker.”

           It was like the wind was punched out of Alya, “Sta- Stalker?”

           Lila just stared with her mouth opened.

           Ladybug nodded gravely, while inwardly Marinette cheered, “Stalker. What else would you call someone who constantly follows you around? Interfere with my rescues. Fantasize scenarios where we’re close personal friends and tells people about it. Try to convince everyone that those tales are real. Maybe it’s a coincidence that she transferred into only class in the entire school, out of all the public schools in France that has had the most akumas thus students I see regularly.  Despite her mother being an important diplomat? Who knows?” Ladybug pitched her nose. “For god’s sake, Alya, she even got close to you, the only journalist I deal with on a continuity. You keeping spinning out her stories; feeding her delusions. Why do think I started avoiding you? I saw you were friends with her. I can’t be around her. I won’t.”

           It went silent. Alya’s mouth had dropped opened. She looked shocked and slightly ill. Lila looked like she was considering murder. Marinette was five seconds away from doing her happy dance.

“Alya,” Ladybug said seriously. “Be honest, Lila’s said so many stories about so many celebrities but there’s no real evidence backing it up. Her grand adventures with Jagged Stone, Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale; it’s all in her head. At least point, I’m started to think they may have been her past obsessions. She claimed I healed her so many of different diseases, I thought someone was going to try to give me saint hood. Do you really think Jagged Stone would write a song about an underage girl without her parents knowing? Or that Clara Nightingale stole her dance moves. Do you know how bad that looks? Not to mention that model kid Adrien Agreste. From what I heard, what she’s doing to him is borderline sexual harassment. I think they’re victims,” She stressed the word. “Like me. If I wasn’t concerned about my secret identity, I’d have gone to the police by now.”

“Police!” Lila squeaked.

           Ladybug shook her head, “I know people. Maybe I can just do a cease and desist order on the Ladyblog. But this has to stop,” She told Alya. “It’s the middle of the night, which is dangerous enough as it is. But there was an akuma as well. You called me, again in the middle of the night, to meet with my stalker. Do you know how scary that is? How that makes me feel?” She asked.

“I’m sorry!” Alya said with tears in hers, her phone still streaming. “I didn’t know.”

           Ladybug threw up her hands, “You didn’t even bother to ask! At any time in the last year, you could’ve checked with me that you were reporting the truth.”

           Alya sobbed. Lila just glared. She was too busy thinking of ways she could spend this.

           Ladybug looked around, with suspicious, “Do your parents even know where you are?”

“Well, I, I mean,” The glasses wearing girl stuttered.

           Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “No. I’m done. You’ve gone too far. You put yourself in danger. And you put me in danger. All for an interview. No more. You obviously don’t take this seriously; being a journalist, your blog, your life, anything. I’m done. I won’t work with you again. I can’t risk it.”

           And with that Ladybug, yo’yo’d away. When she transformed back to normal and safely got to her house, Marinette fell to the floor laughing. Tikki joined her. Revenge was sweet.

           The bluenette plopped down her bed. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For months and months she had been accused of bullying Lila, of being jealous, by tomorrow all of France would know what happened on the rooftop.

           Lila wasn’t outed as liar like she thought she would be. No, Marinette, Rossi got a much worse fate.

           When Marinette woke up the next morning, it was like the world had caught on fire. Nadja was having field day. Celebrities Lila had said she knew vocally denounced every knowing the girl. The world cried, “Poor Ladybug.”

           Marinette blinked at the sheer quiet of her class. She had expected chaos. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe Lila was able to spin it around for the class.

           No that wasn’t right. Nino was comforting Alya, who had red eyes and messy hair.

“What’s going on,” She asked Adrien, one of the few people who were still friendly with her in class. She may not have had a crush on him anymore but she still thought he was a decent friend.

“You don’t know?” Alix asked, with shock on her face. “How could you not know? All of Paris is talking about Ladybug’s stalker.”

           Marinette scratched the back on her head, a look of faux-confusion on her face, “I got up late again, I didn’t have time to look anything up,” Looks of understanding came from the students. “Wait! Stalker?!” She took a dramatic pause. “…You know?”

           Alya stood up angrily, “You knew!”

           Marinette took a hasty step back, “Of course I knew. Don’t you remember I got you your first interview with Ladybug? I know her.” Alya looked somewhat placated but still angry. She told me all about it. She was really freaked out. But I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” She defended. “I don’t break my promise. Yet I tried to warn you as best I could. I tried to warn everyone.” Marinette shrugged. “And look what happened. Most of us aren’t even friends anymore.”

           Her words were a slap to the face. Most of her former friends had the grace to look ashamed.

           Marinette just shrugged again and went her seat.

“I’m ruined,” Alya cried into Nino’s shoulder. “My fans hate me. Half of them think I was lying to them. The other half hate me because I hurt Ladybug. How was I supposed to know Lila was a nutjob?”

“You could’ve fact checked,” Marinette told her. “Listen to me even one of the hundred times I told you she was lying. Asked Ladybug. Asked Chat Noir. Read the twenty percent of the Ladyblog’s comments that she said was lying. You could’ve done a lot to find out the truth.” She stared hard at her former friend. “You chose not to.”

           Alya cried harder.

“Harsh, dudette,” Nino glared at her.

           Coldness went down Marinette’s back. She stood up, “Harsh!” Marinette yelled, everyone flinched back. “Yeah maybe it’s a bit harsh. But you know what was worse? Losing all my friends. Being called a liar. A jealous psycho. Being bullied by people who I’ve known forever. Getting mean, nasty texts that could have the sender charged with harassment.”

           The bluenette glared around the room; at the paling, stunned faces of the other students.

“Harsh,” She hissed at Nino. “Well I’m sorry if the truth is a little harsh. But I think after falling for so many lies, maybe Alya deserves the truth for once. You all do.”

           Alya pulled away from Nino, and nodded. “She’s right,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so sorry.”

           Marinette looked at Alya, her former bestie. Nino the boy she thought always had her back until he stabbed her in it. Kim, her friend since they were in diapers, who had no problem accusing Marinette of awful things. Alix and Mylene, who led the charge against her. Nathanial who had sat and done nothing when they spilled and destroy her designs.

“Sorry’s not always enough,” Marinette admitted, hurt filling her. “There’s another truth for you.”

“My dad’s furious,” Adrien said, gaining everyone attention. “Everyone knows he insisted Lila do the photoshoots with me. An insider even revealed that I made it clear I was bother by Lila. They think he doesn’t take sexual harassment at work seriously. Brand’s taking a hit.”

“Ladybug must be so scared,” Sabrina put in. “My dad told me about some crazy stalker cases he’s seen. They got really obsessive. One guy even kidnapped a kid because he though it looked like his and this woman’s future child. Said the child was theirs. Dad wants me to stay away from Lila. He doesn’t want me getting her attention. Who knows what she’d do?”

           Sabrina words sent shivers through the students. A few who watched true crime stories looked particularly green.

“We should’ve caught on,” Alix frowned. “None of her stories even made sense. Saved a cat from being hit by a plane? Really? Are we morons?”

“Something must be seriously wrong with her,” Rose offered. “Maybe she just needs help.”

“She needs a nice white jacket,” Kim growled. “And a padded cell.”

“Where is Lila?” Marinette asked.

           Surprising it was Juleka who answered, “Hiding in her house. Reporters everywhere want a one on one with Ladybug’s Stalker. Her face is all over the news. She’s trending on Twitter. So’s the Ladyblog.”

           Alya groaned. Her blog, her life’s work was finally getting the attention she always wanted but in the worst possible way.

           Nino hugged his girlfriend, “At least no one will ever be fool again,” He offered.

“Undoubtable,” Max agreed. “I foresee that Lila is well on way to be the most famous stalker in recent history. They’ll use her as a textbook example one day, if this carries on. People will base their doctorates on her mental health.”

           Marinette smirked.

           Lila was going to get the all attention she’d ever want.

#ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #class salt #lila salt #galahadwilder

[speechlessxx]

Requite - part 2 (Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: In which the reader sticks by Andy’s side throughout Jacob’s trial and the aftermath of a life changing accident.

Warnings: I followed the book’s ending instead of the show’s ending, SPOILERS for Episode 7 and Episode 8 (and the book!), I omitted the trip to Mexico, slight CHEATING (kiss & feelings), implied age gap, 

Word Count: 2.5k

long awaited... i know! i’m sorry!

READ PART 1 HERE

“I won’t get through this without you.”

You weren’t sure why Andy told you this a day before the trial. He was asking – begging – you to stay and see the trial through.

You were rightfully reluctant. You weren’t anything to him. You were just a friend, something you had to keep reminding yourself. Perhaps you were less than that – you and Laurie weren’t even close. You didn’t know if Laurie would appreciate your presence, unsure if she knew what transpired between you and her husband. Your relationship with the Barbers started and ended with Andy, maybe with the exception of their son – even then, you weren’t close Jacob except for the occasional ride. You were simply the next-door neighbor. Nothing more… at least that’s what you told yourself.

Andy’s blue eyes were clouded. The stress and nervousness written all over his face though he tried his best to conceal that from everyone. He was the head of the household. He was their source of stability. If he collapsed (and he was almost there), then the family would topple over, too. Although his and Laurie’s marriage had been fragile for years now, they put up a united front for the sake of the cameras that constantly followed them. It hurt you, but again, it wasn’t your place to be hurt.

You had no plans to stay. You wanted to sever all ties with your old life and start over. Like you told Andy days before that incident, nothing was keeping you in Newton.

But then you stared into Andy’s pleading eyes. This man was your kryptonite. “Please…” he said. His voice was barely above a whisper as if he were afraid to be overheard though both of you were completely isolated in your backyard. “Please stay.”

So, you did.

You stayed for every gritty detail and revelation that was revealed throughout the trial. As much as you hated to admit, Jacob looked guiltier and guiltier, but you still had faith. You believed he was a good kid. How could he not be? He had an amazing father to look up to.

Then, Derek Yoo took the stand. He read out the “Job Story” that detailed a boy named Jason who murdered his bully, Brent, in the forest. You felt your jaw drop slightly as the color drained from your face when Derek finished the story. Andy had turned in his seat next to his son.

At first, you thought he was staring at Laurie, but he was staring at you – something his wife also noticed.

You didn’t know this, but your mere presence alone was a comfort to him. It was something about your smile or the way you’d chuckle lightly when Joana was able to poke holes into the prosecution’s theories. If you believed Jacob was innocent, then others would, too.

He had a panicked look on his face, desperate to find any source of reassurance from you, but you were almost certain that your expression mirrored his. Like Andy, that “Job story” made you start doubting. It was nearly a confession. It might’ve been the final nail to this coffin that Loguidice built for his son.

-=+=-

Laurie tearfully confessed to Andy that she believed that their son was guilty. Like many, the story swayed her though she had already been on the fence about her son’s innocence. She envisioned when Jacob was a young boy. She remembered when he lifted the bowling ball, ready to bash it into another child’s head. The thought that her son – the baby boy she cradled in her arms and kissed goodnight, the young man whom she loved unconditionally – was capable of such an atrocity terrified her. What had she raised? What had she loved?

Andy stared at her in disbelief. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter while Laurie let out everything she’d been holding in.

“He didn’t do this. I know he didn’t do this.” Andy snapped, punctuating every word. But it was a lie. Andy began doubting, too, but what kind of father would he be if he let one thing – a work of fiction – convince him that his son was a murderer? Andy raised him, held him in his arms, taught him how to walk – how to fish, told him he loved him. He couldn’t let himself believe that Jacob was guilty. That was his son.

“No, you don’t!”

“No one can sustain that level of deception!” Andy argued.

“Of course, he could!” Laurie shot back. “You of all people should know that.” She bit her lip while her eyes watered again.

Laurie wasn’t stupid. She knew. She knew the marriage was falling apart – they’ve both known for years now. She knew how her husband wandered off to her next-door neighbor’s. She knew that Andy liked comforting you – that he liked providing you help, always offering to do a favor. She had hoped it was innocent visitations – he was just checking up on the poor young woman whose husband abused her. But she always knew deep down, there was something more. Your presence at court – Andy staring through her to look at you – made it all connect.

Andy scoffed, looking down. She stared at him in silence and he refused to look at her. He wasn’t discreet about his affection for you – his concern for you. Though he’d convince himself that you were just a distraction from his failing marriage, he knew there was something more and he now knew his wife figured it out, too. “Yeah… yeah of course,” Andy said. “He learned it from me.”

“Maybe he learned it from both of us.” Laurie found herself guilty, too. She and Andy stayed together to keep face. They were the picture-perfect Barber family. And although the trial proved that they were far from that, the Barbers knew way before then.

For the first time, they finally agreed on something.

This marriage was a lie.

-=+=-

Three sharp knocks that was followed by the doorbell snapped you back to reality. You hadn’t realized you were staring at your framed wedding photo for the past hour. You hastily opened the door to reveal Andy Barber. He wore sweats and a grey top to match with a scowl on his face.

“Can I crash here tonight?” He asked. You frowned in confusion but nodded, widening the door to let him in. Andy noticed that you unpacked a few boxes. Those marked as “kitchen”, “bedroom”, “bath” had all been reopened. He didn’t fool himself to believe that you were planning to stay in Newton. You had unpacked because he had asked you to stay until the trial was over. He was grateful.

“What happened?” You asked him, handing him one of the beers your ex-husband left behind.

“Laurie and I got into a fight.” He muttered. He took a long sip from the bottle. His brows were furrowed and eyes low. Andy was clearly upset. You scolded yourself for bringing him a beer. The mixture of alcohol and anger never ended well for you.

You decided not to pry. It wasn’t your place after all.

“You know,” Andy said, taking a seat at your dining table. You joined him. “I wish we ended things a long time ago.”

“Don’t say that,” you said. “You and Laurie are a great couple.”

He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. “We aren’t.” You weren’t sure how to respond, so you opted to keep your silence. Did that incident bring him an epiphany? Your gulped, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. The emotion seemed to be making its rounds today. “I… I don’t know what to think of that story, honestly.” You hugged your arms around yourself as he took another swig from the bottle. You didn’t want to talk about the story. You still wanted to believe that Jacob was innocent although your faith was slowly waning. Andy narrowed his eyes at your reaction. “Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Curl into yourself… you do that when you talk about your ex-husband.”

“I thought we were talking about you and Laurie.” You muttered, tucking a piece of hair out of your face. You’d rather not talk about your marriage or the aftermath of it.

“You’re a good distraction.” Andy shrugged.

“I won’t take offense to that.” You laughed a little and unraveled your arms from your body to pick at your thumbs.

“Don’t.” Andy smirked a little. Another sip. “I like you.”

“You’re drunk.” You waved your hand dismissively. You felt butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach and decided to ignore it. He didn’t mean that.

“Sober thoughts are drunk words, right?”

“You’re stressed.” You reasoned although you felt as if you were convincing yourself he was.

“It’s the truth…” Andy said, taking another drink. He stared straight at you. You felt like he was staring into your soul. “I like being around you.”

“I’m a good distraction?” You joked.

“No, it’s more than that.” Andy scoffed, shaking his head. He reached over and grabbed your hand. You stared at him, wide eyed, with surprise.

“Andy –“

“Laurie and I decided we’re getting a divorce.”

“What?” You thought you’d be delighted upon hearing that, but you felt dread course through you. You thought of the numerous mistresses that your husband entertained. You were in their shoes now and you hated it.

Andy licked his lips, taking another sip from the bottle. “We decided no more lying. No more pretending. After the trial – whichever way the jury leans towards – we’re over.”

“I’m sorry…” You didn’t know what else to say. You pulled your hands from his. He let you go.

“You shouldn’t feel sorry.” Andy muttered with a frown. “It’s been years in the making. We just can’t… we can’t pretend anymore.” He stared at you, but you refused to look at him, opting to stare at your hands instead.  “Wait… are you blaming yourself?” Your silence gave you away. “It wasn’t your fault, (Y/N)… We were over a long time ago. It’s finally time we admitted that to ourselves.”

“Okay…”

“I wasn’t lying about before either and forgive me if I’m wrong, but there is something here.” He was blunt. He was more straightforward than he would’ve been if he were sober. Perhaps it was a good thing.

You wrapped your arms around yourself again and shook your head, protesting. “Andy – “

“You’re gonna tell me there’s nothing. You’re gonna tell me I’m wrong, but you’re pulling away from me and curling into yourself like how you did when I asked you about your bruises.” He knew how you were. He knew you. He understood you.

“I’m just your distraction. Tomorrow, you’re gonna wake up and go back to your house.” You frowned. “I’m just convenient.”

“No, you’re not!” Andy argued. “I asked you to stay for the trial because I know Laurie and I wouldn’t be able to be there for each other. I asked you to stay because you listen to me, you understand, you comfort me when my own wife can’t. You’re not just convenient or just my distraction. Honestly, I think if I had met you first, I wouldn’t be married to my wife. I’m falling for you, (Y/N).”

“Andy…” you shook your head. It was wrong for him to say that whether he was buzzed or sober. You didn’t want to argue and his voice steadily increased in volume frightened you. The alcohol in his system and his boiling rage – whether it was from your dismissiveness or from the trial – wasn’t a good mix.

You decided to take yourself out the equation before it got out of hand and stood up from the table. You were going to go fix him a place to stay. Your guest room still had the bed and bedframe set up.

But Andy stood with you, grabbing your hand, preventing you from walking away. You said his name again, but he didn’t want to listen to you lie to yourself – lie to him. Without another word, Andy pulled you into him, pressing his lips against your own.

It was a replay of that incident except you didn’t pull away almost immediately. The soft and gentle kiss slowly heated into a passionate one. Your lips moved in sync and molded together. His beard tickled your skin but you paid it no mind, getting lost in Andy. One of his hands rested on your waist and the other on the back of your head, getting lost in your hair.

Everything about it was addicting. Frightening, even. So much so that you finally pulled away after long moments of getting lost in one another’s lips. But you didn’t untangle yourself from his arms. You simply stared up at him and he down at you. You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve told him no.

But you caved. He was your kryptonite after all.

You pulled him back down to meet your lips, igniting the fire between you both once more. In that moment, the trial, his failed marriage – everything ­– dissolved into the background. It was just you and Andy.

“I love you.” His words muffled by the kiss, but you heard it all the same.

-=+=-

“It’s not my place, Andy.” You told him as he begged you again to stay.

“I won’t get through this without you.” He said the same words that kept you in town for his son’s trial.

Your heart broke for him. It really did.

After the trial, Andy made good on his word. He and Laurie understood that their marriage was unsalvageable. Co-parenting would’ve worked for them. They were still a good team. Laurie even suggested that Andy should have full custody of Jacob and they could alternate major holidays. It was a good plan. The divorce hadn’t been finalized yet, but the decision was already made – perhaps it was made years ago and was only acknowledged now.

You and Andy decided to start over together.

No lies. No deception. Just the pure, unadulterated truth.

Andy started this new life by confiding in you that his father orchestrated Leonard Patz’s confession and suicide. Although neither of you spoke about it, the question still hung in your heads – was Jacob guilty after all?

Andy was eager to leave Newton as you were. You were thinking about moving to New York City – Jacob was excited about it – though Los Angeles and Houston were still in the conversation. You both wanted a change. Perhaps a big city would’ve been a perfect fit for your new life together.  

But then disaster struck. It was Laurie’s weekend with Jacob. There an accident… or what appeared to be one. Jacob was killed on impact. Laurie left in a coma.

And just like that, your new life was put on hold.

Andy was being summoned to court.

Loguidice was building a case that suggested that Laurie purposely murdered their son. Unsure if you could take another trial, you wanted to leave. You were prepared to leave with or without Andy.

But you were the last thing Andy had in his life. His soon-to-be ex wife was comatose, and his son was gone. Your heart broke for him.

He needed you now like how you needed him.

Andy begged you to stay.

So, you did. 

#andy barber imagine #andy barber #andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #requite #chris evans imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america imagine

[the-melting-world]

The Empress | Side A: “These Waters”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a humble gardener returns to an old playground…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel 

Track Origins: “These Waters” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 1.4k words

After several training sessions in which Kipling fails to unlock her third eye, Ozy decides to try a different approach. He brings Kipling to a Room modeled after a familiar spot in the Melting World...

Kipling couldn’t believe it. Ozy had talked about it before, but that knowledge could not compare to the feeling that came over her when she stood in the shallows and soaked in the island sun.

The rocks, the coral reef, the underwater caves curling out around the shelf – it was like Kipling had never left.

“This beach looks the same as it did in my memories,” Kip said softly, her syrupy brown eyes taking in the glistening layers of turquoise and white. Then, blinking rapidly, she looked over at Ozy.

“Why did you bring us here?”

The tropical breeze pushed back Ozy’s thin dreadlocks, causing them to fan out behind him. His irises looked like freshwater whirlpools in the sunlight.

“I thought it would help. Sometimes we just need a little positive association in order to motivate us.”

Kipling looked around again. “Not all the memories that took place here were positive, coz.”

She looked out at the ocean of teal and imagined dark clouds growing and twisting over waters rougher than what lay before her.

“Let’s not think about that right now.” Ozy took her by the hand. “Come. I know a nice rock where we can start our meditation.”

The rocky outcropping that Ozy led Kipling to was a good one. And she did find it easier to slip into a trance with the sun of her youth beaming its rays down on her, but there was still no luck with making progress on unlocking her necessary chakra.

They were taking a break down by one of the lagoons when Kip called Ozy’s attention.

“You do realize that ever since you fitted me with these gauntlets, I’ve been able to open and lock Doors without any problems. I just can’t see the glyphs. But I know how to lock the Door, Ozy. I can feel it telling me when to move.”

Ozy, who was in the water, taking his time with his backstroke, replied, “You’re right, Kip. You’ve made significant improvements over these past couple of weeks. Your progress is quite impressive.”

Kip looked down at her gauntlets and swung her legs over the water. “So then is it really all that necessary for me to see the glyphs?”

Ozy paused in his swimming and pulled himself upright so he could tread water. “Kip, don’t get me wrong. Your instincts when it comes to locking Doors has always been so much more acute than mine. In my case, I must take every opportunity to read the glyphs, even on Doors that I’ve opened a thousand times.”

Kip splashed her heels in the water and mumbled, “Then what’s the problem?”

Ozy drifted over to where she was and propped his arms on the rock. “This isn’t about checking off all the boxes to ensure we’re on the same page. It’s about eliminating room for error.” He sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, as if he were trying to choose his next words carefully.

“What?” Kip prompted, though not without a hint of warning. 

Ozy kept his gaze firm, but his voice gentle as he said, “Don’t you remember the Door that took Khleo? I’m sure you thought you locked that one correctly as well.”

The rims of Kip’s syrupy brown eyes smarted as she hardened her stare. Ozy held it, lifting his chin in a strange sort of challenge. He wasn’t just pushing buttons this time. For the briefest of moments, Kip saw herself in his steely expression. 

“Get it off your chest, coz,” Kip said softly.

Ozy’s jaw quivered for a moment before he sucked hard on his teeth and unleashed his thoughts in a chaotic whisper. 

“Khleo was my friend too. I didn’t want it to happen either. I didn’t want it to go that way. It didn’t have to go that way.” 

He was breathing hard afterwards. Then he groaned a little as he looked off at the other side of the reef, dragging his fingers through his locs over and over again. 

Kip thought he was done, but then…

“I wish I could cry like you.” Ozy didn’t blink as he stared out at the sea that so starkly reflected the sunlight. “When I think about how Khleo stepped in to put an end to our older cousins giving me black eyes and bruised ribs, I feel like I want to cry… but I can’t.” 

He took a shuddering breath.

“I can’t cry for the first person to look at me like I wasn’t a freak or some sort of cancer. I have eight biological siblings. None of them ever held my hand willingly, Kip. And the kids at the temple… I can’t even blame them sometimes. I came from the family who told theirs it was okay to give up their children. If they were marked with the ghost lock, they weren’t children anyway. Just shadows of the worlds they couldn’t see. Just umbras.”

Ozy’s eyes turned overhead now. Towards the sun.

“Khleo scared off my bullies and took my hand. They were kind to me long before you were. They were patient with me long before anyone was. And I can’t even cry for them? It hurts.” He finally looked at Kip, that familiar offhanded levity settling back into the murky green of his eyes. 

“I’ve tried to ask Abaco what’s wrong with me. But he’s been unhelpful because… he’s a bird.”

Kip’s legs trembled as she got to her feet. “Think I’m going to go find a cave to scream in. I’ll be back.” She hated to admit that she didn’t know how to talk to Ozy in that moment. And even if Kip did, she didn’t think that she was the one capable of correcting whatever had broken inside him.

“Kipling.” Ozy suddenly rushed to pull himself onto the rock.

Kip shook her head and held up her hand to ward him off. “Everything’s fine. I just need a minute.”

Ozy lowered himself back down, looking up at the cowrie choker around Kip’s neck. The same one Khleo had given her all those years ago. The one she never took off...

“You really are going to go scream in a cave, aren’t you?”

Kip offered a tired smile before turning away. “I won’t be long.”

She didn’t even have to think as she made her way to the place that had been on her mind since they arrived in this artificial pocket of the Melting World. Kipling let her feet guide her to a familiar outcropping that hedged over the deeper parts of the reef. She slowly removed her gauntlets as she knelt and placed them far away from the edge of the rock.

Then Kipling blinked, focusing her attention on remembering and processing her next few breaths. When she felt warmed up enough, she shed everything but her underwear, inhaled as deeply as she could, and dived into the reef.

The umbra swam without hurry, taking in the stretches of coral, some of them pale and dormant while others pulsed with color and movement. The deeper she dived, the more the water around her chilled. It didn’t go back to being warm until she reemerged in an underwater cave. Its ceiling formed the bedrock of the shelf where she and Ozy had been training.

Kipling gasped as she came to the surface in the echo chamber. Not because she was out of breath, but because of where she was.

There was no magic laced in these cavern walls. Yet they shimmered. They glowed.

Kipling’s breath was taken away again upon realizing that the only magic that filled this chamber was that of memory. 

Something old and sharp tore at her from the inside as she was transported to a time when she shared these warm waters with her best friend. Oh, how they would scream when the quiet of the temple became too heavy for their small shoulders. 

Kip closed her eyes, imagining Khleo was there with her before opening her mouth and emptying her lungs. At first she only swore, but then she stopped trying to envision her friend and began to call for them instead.

“Khleo.”

And then came the echo.

Kip caught her breath, but barely. She dredged up both of their voices – hers and Khleo’s from the last day they were together.

“Khleo!!!”

She thought she was so clever back then. So grown for leading Khleo here and teasing them. She thought so proudly of herself to be the one to hold off from saying it first. 

“I…”

Gods. She was so young back then.

“I love you!”

She understood so little.

#there's a lot of crying in this one too #sorry #arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #the arcana #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #my writing #kipling bronne #oz'mandias #the arcana fanfiction

[tigerdrop]

okay kind of obsessed with the body swap art tho. idk why i just like benrey getting to bully gordon with his own body, his own voice, and i like gordon trying to navigate whatever weird shit benrey’s got going on. gordon not being able to figure out or control whatever organs in benrey’s throat produce sweet voice so it’s just spewing whatever emotions he’s feeling at random (including Horny? uh oh. can’t hide that as easily as a surprise boner can you gordon?)

this ask kicked me into actually thinking about it and your brain is so huge. massive. i lost control

last night i was struggling to articulate thoughts for the body swap thing but this is kickstarting me. i. really love bodyswap stuff........(sighing) i am yet again having to confront the fact that i latched onto an embarrassing number of Things after having first read about them in [REDACTED]. truly hate being alive

so like......potions. you can get into a whole lot of weird stuff with potions. truly loving that darnolds 5-minute existence gives me an excuse to think of the stupidest horny potions scenarios

and why in the fuck wouldnt he have a bodyswap potion just chillin in his lab. why wouldnt benrey crack that bad boy open and take a sip while darnolds bitching at him "dont you touch any of those goddamn potions. im not gonna tell you which ones which so if you die, you die"

gordon claps benrey on the back afterwards like "well, thats a risk im perfectly happy for him to take" but uh oh you fucking buffoon. the touch is what activates it. and shit just starts spinning and schlorping in his mind and he nearly falls over clutching the lab bench next to him and when he cracks his eyes back open, hes........shorter. and everybodys asking if somebodys okay but that somebody isnt him and hes kind of miffed about that

and then gordons head turns and he sees Himself being steadied on his feet by tommy and darnold and hes like.......guys? guys. hello! and the sound of benreys voice coming out of him with that irritated and loud timbre makes everybody turn to face him........b/c that is so insanely weird coming from him

im like way into the idea of benreys, like, Eye Darkness Thing transferring to gordons face when their bodies are swapped, too. its just his malevolent energies manifesting physically no matter what body hes in

Wait god wait. Like. Benrey in Gordon's body and he gets horny for some reason and has to live Gordon's fucking pained life of the suit edging the hell outta him- Bc now Gordon can actually fucking jerk off for the the first time in days. No edging bullshit from the hev suit

benreys newfound appreciation for why gordons such a bitch all the time

RRRRRRRRRRR gordon able to go wild beating his meat that night finally but right before he does he stops because hes looking down at. 8)!

YES EXACTLY....... gordon freeman humbled by the sight of benreys huge meat. except its his meat now 

at first he only feels mildly weird about jacking it when hes not even in his own body right now but hes been edged for days now and hes just thinking "if i can just get this out of the way now, ill be clear-headed for however fucking long im stuck in black mesa. maybe this is why ive been so goddamn stupid lately. yeah"

but then he gets some time and space to himself at long last and unzips and the shock of seeing benreys huge uncut dick instead of his own brings him back to reality like "?oh my god what the fuck am i doing"

embarrassment! guilt! but also hes still fuckin horny and eventually curiosity wins out. whats the harm, right. its not like he has to say anything about it. and gordon freeman is (mostly) heterosexual and hes never been this up close and personal with a foreskin before and hes just......curious. scientifically

maybe hes even.......locked himself inside one of the company restrooms while hes at it. just to make sure hes got privacy. and there is a mirror right there........  he was gonna just bust one out and leave as fast as he can but now hes curious

starts. thumbing the hem of his shirt under benreys vest. starts lifting it up experimentally just to see where all that hair leads. out of curiosity. and seeing the curve of benreys stomach peek out in the mirror makes him hiccup on sweet voice inadvertently 

weirdly enough theres a part of him thats both relieved and disappointed that hes never seen that color before

he never envisioned that seeing benrey like this would be a turn-on but like......with that vest and that helmet on he just looks like some kind of fuckin roundish rectangle shape. but now gordons intimately familiar with how his body feels to move around in......what hes gotta look like underneath all that armor and ill-fitting work clothes......and the hornier he gets the stupider he gets

takes off the helmet.......just to test the waters. if somebody manages to bust in, thats not so weird to explain. and hes surprised by the shock of black hair he finds under there. he doesnt know what he was expecting....but honestly, benrey looks, like, kind of nice like that. more like a person

im slightly obsessed with the idea of benrey just not even registering as a Real Guy, physically, to gordon, one that he could possibly be attracted to, until hes out of his work uniform.......like hes more of an icon of a person than anything up until that point. pure signifier. no substance

like......you know......the equivalent of how benreys HL model registers to 99% of people watching the series. sure, thats not necessarily anything youd register as "hot", most likely, but then u peel that away and its like........Oh

the model is the icon and the representation of the icon is the real

and gordon runs a hand thru benreys hair and tries out one of those shitty little smirks benrey likes to use on him and the effect is.......dizzying. is that him? is that what benrey really looks like to him?? he feels fuckin salacious doing this

he can even.........get his face up close to the mirror and really look at those teeth

run his tongue over them experimentally.......feel their sharp edges.......and, no, theyre not sharp like a knife, but they are definitely pointy. and surprisingly well-kept......hes never seen benrey brush his teeth before but clearly he must. theyre so smooth and slick under his fingertips

and then he flushes and drops his hand b/c hes getting some weird fucking thoughts right now........but looking back up at himself in the mirror and seeing benreys face all wide-eyed and red makes the issue worse

oh, you really like seeing him look like that, dont you. and gordons pissed b/c this isnt even his fucking brain but its still whispering the exact same neurotic, self-defeating shit at him that hes trying very hard to tamp down

and then he starts getting a little crazier. taking off the vest. he can explain that, no problem. its just kind of hot. heavy. he needed a breather! its normal. just in here to splash some water on his face and cool down, nothing wrong with that. but that just makes benreys shirt all the easier to access.......and he tugs the hem of it just a little higher and looks at himself in the mirror and runs a thumb over the curve of his stomach, where the hair is thickest, and he shivers

gordon freeman is deeply normal and would never get off to the sight of a guy with arms the size of his head tentatively dragging the hem of his shirt up, just for gordon to look at him closer

hands shaking from nerves as he decides to loosen his tie and start unbuttoning and he sees more and more hair-dusted skin and muscle and fat and a thin sheen of sweat reveal itself

> i could see gordon trying to tense and flex the muscles a bit just because hes normal

HE IS, AND HE WOULD

he doesnt know when "being horny b/c hes been pent up and edged for days and he just needs to get his rocks off real quick so he can be normal again" turned into "being horny b/c the way benrey looks under his uniform is scary good to him" but if he thinks about that too hard hes gonna have a panic attack

tells himself that its all just because he hasnt been able to get off. thats why hes thinking this shit. hell stop thinking it once he nuts

> hey this is a quick aside but yknwo how he talks to himself in third person sometimes? what if he does and then kinda does a mental double take at how his name sounds coming out of benreys mouth, with his voice. ok thats it goodbye

oh ym god thats making me go insane. doing it by accident and then.........saying it again. on purpose. just to hear benreys voice doing it

getting one knee hitched up onto the sink and leaning forward with his arm braced against the mirror and his forehead leaning on his arm and tugging benreys dick (no, idiot, thats your dick right now, stop thinking about it) and tentatively groaning out his own name and it comes out so hoarse and desperate that it punches him straight in the gut (too bad, hes thinking about it, he cant not think about it, not with the way he looks and sounds right now)

> remember in the series when benrey called him gordon one (1) time and he noticed immediately and was like..i think thats the first time youve called me by my name.

he looks so fucked out and slutty in that mirror that it almost makes him pass out

eyes darting like hes trying to commit every single detail of how he looks right now to memory (b/c he is. he fucking is. he wants to make benrey look like this so fucking bad. just for him. wreck him and get him flushed and sweaty and panting and moaning gordons name and jesus christ, okay, thats where his brains taking him. okay. cool)

hes dizzying himself thinking about it. he knows benreys hot for him by this point, theoretically. assuming his weird come-ons werent just jokes. benrey would probably let him do this to him. benrey would probably want him to touch his dick. gordon thinks about how good it might feel for his own hand to be on benreys dick and he cant get himself solidly into one headspace or another - hes gordon, hes benrey, he wants to touch, he wants to be touched, he wants to feel his own hand on this dick (and god, maybe he could. maybe he could ask. wouldnt that be crazy.)

benrey in gordons suit and gordons body and gordons face leaning over him, b/c fuck, he really is tall compared to benrey, hes figured that one out awful quick. and gordons (his) hand on his (benreys) dick and stroking him and leering down at him with those dark, dark eyes that dont even really look like his eyes, anymore, not with the way theyre shaded over, and hearing his (benreys) (his) voice moaning out his (gordons) (definitely gordons) name and all the little "pleases" and "thank yous" that he cant stop letting out b/c benreys voice was made for it, made to beg and whine and ask so nicely, and his heads spinning as he comes all over the fucking mirror and sink

> i wonder if this could be combine with the ideas that parts of the self or like mind is still a bit left behind if that makes sense, like with benrey also wanting this that part of the reason gordon wants to say those things

"do you want to fuck him or do you want to be him?" well my good bitch, perhaps you can have a little of both. welcome to my personal hell

hes never come so hard in his fucking life and the noise that rips out of him when he does, finally, after days of being jerked around (ha ha) makes his ears burn with shame

now if you really wanna go crazy. imagine that benreys up and walking around this whole time b/c being edged by his stupid broken suit is making it impossible for him to sleep, and he hears........all of this. stops and presses himself flat agains tthe wall to listen

he cant actually get into the bathroom to scare the shit out of gordon/offer to join in/etc, b/c this stupid flesh body of gordons cant even noclip, but he can press his ear to the door and. listen. and he can flush all the way down to his chest when he hears gordon in there, moaning out his own name with benreys voice

so thats what gordon wants him to do, huh. thats what hes thinking about.

poor benrey, tho. he gets to experience just a lick of the endless fucking suffering that gordon goes thru every single day just by being alive, and "the HEV suit trying and failing to suck him off to completion while his dick twitches against the hard metal of the interior every time gordon groans in there" is just one small part of it

anyway . see ya. my final message

#asky #writin stuff

[hockeyboysiguess]

untitled | m. rantanen (fic preview)

a/n: i’ve been talking about this fic a lot, so here’s a little 1.6K. it’s very much not done. it doesn’t even have a title yet, but i hope you all like mikko and jo as much as i do! i ended up writing with an oc so i could write this how i envisioned. let me know what you think!!

Jo tugged at her sweater, pulling at the sleeves, at the slightly too tight bottom band, at the neckline, really any part that was touching her skin. It was itchy beyond belief, but she was pretty sure that she was about to take home the non-existent prize of ugliest Christmas sweater at the party tonight. Jo had been out with Helena for dinner, so she threw the sweater on in the car on the way over to Gabe’s and was regretting never having tried it on before this moment. But, the look on Mikko’s face when he saw just how ugly the sweater was would be worth her temporary discomfort.

She punched in the gate code at Gabe’s and made her way up the driveway, smiling the whole way, something Jo had been doing a lot more of lately than she usually did. She told herself it was the hometown air, mile high and clearer than any other city. She told herself it was the fresh snow falling regularly now, deep into December. She told herself it was Christmas and a lot of people were happier around Christmas. Jo’s happiness wasn’t temporary though. It was a shift, slow and steady, a constant pressure forcing her out of the mindset she settled in years ago, the one where she always needed to be pleasing other people to be happy, the one where she needed everyone’s approval to find her own joy. She knew the clearer air, the snow, and the holidays weren’t the pressure. The pressure was a tall, somehow clumsy Finn who wanted nothing more than to see Jo smile every single day.

He didn’t try to make her happy with jokes and gimmicks and other things that were essentially bandaids to Jo’s heaviness. He didn’t try to pull a funny face while jumping just high enough for Jo to see from the other side of the walls she has built to protect herself, the ones she thought were too high for anyone to climb. Mikko wasn’t climbing them, knowing full and well that him getting over them wouldn’t truly help Jo. It would make her just okay for a little while longer, make the way she lived a little more bearable, until it destroyed them both. Mikko was taking the walls apart, brick by brick, his patience and his steadiness guiding the way. He never got frustrated when some of the bricks went back up in the middle of the night while he slept. He got up the next morning all the same and went back to work, taking the walls apart piece by piece, at whatever pace Jo would accept. Mikko hadn’t given up in four months, and he wasn’t planning on it, not until all the walls were gone and the bricks were destroyed, crumbled back into dust, and Jo could see herself the way he saw her the few times he managed to make a hole in the wall and actually see her behind all her defenses.

Jo opened the door into Andre Burakovsky. It was an accident and he shouldn’t have been standing directly in front of the front door and he wasn’t hurt in the slightest, but Jo felt bad about it all the same.

“I’m dumb, it’s my fault,” he assured her. His mouth dropped open when he saw her sweater as Jo hung up her jacket in the front closet. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen and I wish we had a contest because you’d so win.”

“I would so win,” Jo agreed, fussing with her curls to get them reasonably back into place

“There should be a contest. Maybe you can bully Gabe into getting some sort of prize anyway because you deserve it, ” Andre told her, his signature wide smile on his face. “He’s in the family room last I saw him by the way, since I know you’re looking for him.”

Jo blushed at Andre’s words. He had caught her eyes tracking over the party that was in full swing, looking for the guy who had technically invited her, but she probably could’ve shown up anyway without his invite. She ducked out on Andre, blush still deepening with him laughing in the background, and made her way through the living room and kitchen into Gabe’s family room. She was old news by now, a days old newspaper no one wanted to read anymore, and it was Jo’s favorite thing about the Colorado Avalanche. She was Mikko’s friend Jo. Full stop. No additions necessary.

“Jojo!”

Jo heard Mikko before she saw him. She technically felt him before she saw him either as two heavy, muscled, ugly sweater covered arms wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground, making her squeal.. He was laughing as soon as her feet left the ground. Jo’s hands gripped one of Mikko’s forearms around her waist to steady herself as Mikko rocked slowly side to side, weight shifting from foot to foot, with Jo in the air in his arms.

“Mikko!” Jo shouted through her laughter. “Put me down!”

“You’re so easy to pick up though, and now you can actually see the party,” Mikko pointed out unhelpfully.

He set her down anyway, knowing that when Josephine Evans made up her mind, such as wanting to be put down, she was a woman who would figure out how to get her way, Mikko’s shins be damned if that’s what it took. Mikko had a game to play the day after today and wasn’t excited about doing it with shins bruised by Jo’s boots.

“This sweater,” Mikko breathed out as Jo turned to face him. He was in disbelief as he looked at it, “Jo, this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Are you proud?”

Jo spun slowly on her heels, letting Mikko take in the absolute monstrosity she had bought to wear just for this. Mikko was in disbelief, written plainly all over his face, as he observed the sweater in all its terrible glory. Jo had more than delivered when he texted her and said it was an ugly Christmas party. Mikko loved the sweater, a true ugly beauty, but he thought the best part was that Jo put her hair in those little half space buns, the rest of her hair in curls falling down her back. He thought she was the cutest person he’d ever seen and he only knew one way to deal with it in a healthy way Jo would actually appreciate.

Appreciate might have been the wrong word.

Mikko reached out with two large hands and gave her little half buns a squeeze while saying, “Your antlers are cute.”

“Mikko, I swear to god, one day you’re going to die and it’s because I kill you,” Jo informed him with a tone so casual you would think she had just ordered a breakfast sandwich.

“And what a way to go,” Mikko just laughed in response. “Mel made spiked eggnog. You interested?”

Mikko knew Jo was interested before he had even asked, which is why it didn’t surprise him in the slightest that she took off for the kitchen, dragging him by his hand to get to the eggnog. Mikko had released when he stepped into Jo’s apartment on November 3rd, almost two months ago now, just how much Jo loved Christmas, because it had already been decorated that day he walked in. She had offered no explanation for the decorations being up so early other than that it was her apartment, she could do what she damn well pleased, and if Mikko didn’t like it, he could damn well leave. He stayed. Mikko always stayed when Jo was involved.

“Those are some pours there, Jo,” Mikko told her as he eyed the cups Jo was already filling for them from the pot. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re a growing boy,” Jo countered, shoving a full cup into Mikko’s waiting hand. “Drink your milk and maybe you’ll grow big and strong.”

Mikko couldn’t help but laugh. He might make Jo laugh a lot and Mikko laughed a lot in general, but no one made him laugh more than Jo. Even on his worst days, even on Jo’s worst days for that matter, she could always pry a full bellied laugh out of him. It wasn’t even prying. Mikko would willingly give it over to her even when all she offered him was a shitty joke in exchange. It wasn’t lost on Mikko why that was. It wasn’t lost on anyone in the room, or really anyone who had ever spent four minutes in the same room as Mikko and Jo. Mikko looked at Jo differently from other people. Debate what you want about loving someone or being in love with someone, Mikko knew Jo didn’t want him to be in love with her and he respected her wishes more than how he wished she felt, but Mikko Rantanen loved Josephine Evans and it had taken only a few months for it to happen. Mikko realized it the other day on the plane coming back from a road trip. All he wanted was for the plane to get to altitude so he could turn on his phone and text Jo about something funny that had happened since his phone had been in airplane mode. All he wanted to do was get home and see her. All he wanted was her. And that’s not how you feel about people you don’t love.

#fic preview

[pyrrhicwildfire]

※DO NOT REPOST / HOST MY WORK ON OTHER APPS OR SITES

Ochako had often been curious how Todoroki and Bakugou would develop as partners ever since the truth came out that they were together in a romantic sense.

Could anyone blame her? They were both people with strong personalities, besides having strong quirks, and she’s never quite envisioned that they’d end up falling in love, least of all with each other. She never doubted that they could fall in love, but it wasn’t something she’d personally imagined as something that had been going on under all their noses without anyone knowing.

She understood Bakugou being quiet about such a thing because it was not in his nature to expose too much of his personal life...but Todoroki was never shy to talk about himself should anyone ask him anything frankly.

How could she have even known that they were together when neither of them acted any differently when they were still students?

And now, here she is, in their shared abode as pro heroes.

It’s so clean. It’s a direct contrast to her own room at home— not that she’s a messy person in particular! It’s just that she doesn’t always reserve time for cleaning in the same way Bakugou does...she’s sure she’s not the oddity. Even Mina and Kaminari weren’t this clean when she came over to their apartments as a surprise along with other UA alumni.

“Todoroki-kun, I’m coming in!” she calls out, setting away the keys Bakugou had given to her to use on one of the nearby desks. “Are you awake?”

“Uraraka, you’re here,” Todoroki greets, looking awfully composed despite the arm he has in a brace. He’s in a simple white tee and sweatpants; Ochako would guess that he just woke up, if not for how cleaned up he looks despite the casual dress. “Sorry for troubling you,” he adds with a bow of his head.

“Psh, we’re friends, you’re not bothering me at all,” she says with a grin. “Besides, I’m sure Bakugou-kun will give me dinner too since I got the groceries for you both!”

“He would do that,” Todoroki agrees, smiling softly. “Come in, I can serve tea.”

“No, injured people shouldn’t do any serving,” Ochako declines easily, clicking her tongue at him. Really, Todoroki was too nice sometimes. “I’ll get the tea for us both! Just lead the way to the kitchen.”

“It’s not any trouble for me at all, though.”

“I insist, Todoroki-kun!” she says.

He smiles at her. It’s a charming look on him, for sure; to think, happiness could make someone look so different in a good way!

She says as much once she’s done (bullying Todoroki into letting her go ahead with) pouring tea for them both.

“You know, happiness makes you look even more handsome, Todoroki-kun.”

“Does it?” he asks, lowering his cup of tea with his one uninjured hand to the table. “Thank you.”

“It’s the first time I’ve visited your home with Bakugou-kun,” she points out, smiling at him. “It’s all so neat! It must be fun to live with him.”

Todoroki makes a small noise under his breath. Ochako wonders if that was a laugh, or something else, before forgetting it entirely when Todoroki says, “It is fun, actually. Living with him like this is different from when we were at the dorms, because we actually share a room this time instead of a building.”

Oh? Ochako grins in interest, resting her chin on her twined fingers as she looks at Todoroki. “Is it that different?”

“Mm,” Todoroki hums, nodding his head. “Katsuki feels freer to be affectionate like this.”

Ochako coughs to hide the gleeful laugh threatening to spill from her mouth. She hopes Bakugou doesn’t get home soon so she can hear more! “You were dating back in our third year at UA, right? It really was different then...none of us had a clue you’d be together!”

“I think Katsuki wanted it like that,” Todoroki says, before pausing to take a drink from his tea. “He doesn’t like people being too nosy with him. It wasn’t that he wanted us to be a secret either...he wouldn’t have minded if people found out the truth, he just disliked the idea of people invading our privacy needlessly.”

“Oh, I understand,” Ochako agrees with a solemn nod. “You don’t have to tell me anything if it’s troubling for you, then!”

Todoroki’s intent gaze on her lets her know that her questions aren’t a disturbance at all. He even says, “No, I don’t mind.”

Could it be...Todoroki-kun is the type to want to talk a lot about someone he loves?

“Do you want us to talk about it?” she asks.

Todoroki hums as a vague answer. Then, he says, “He’s not at all ashamed to say that he loves me, but...”

“But?“

“He’s shy when I talk too much about it,” Todoroki says frankly, before drinking from his cup again.

Oh my god. They’re so cute, Ochako thinks desperately to herself, even while maintaining a soft look of understanding on her face. I’m so glad they can be this happy with each other!

“I never took Bakugou-kun to be the shy type,” she says, before drinking from her own cup of tea. “In fact, he doesn’t seem shy at all to talk about you when people ask about it.”

“That’s because those are things he can answer frankly,” he explains. “That’s different, compared to when I tell him that I love both his sleeping face and waking face in the morning. He was oddly flustered about that.”

Cute!!!

Ochako clears her throat to calm her inner voice. “That’s...wow. I didn’t think you had it in you to say those kinds of things, Todoroki-kun!”

“Those kinds of things?” Todoroki parrots. “I was just saying the truth, though. I don’t often get to wake before him, so I wanted to say that before I never got the chance again.”

“I’d understand why Bakugou-kun would be shy, then, if it’s not something he’s used to,” Ochako says. “I feel embarrassed just hearing about it, and it’s not even about me! But not in a bad way, just—” she waves her hand in a vague gesture. “Something like that!”

“So, if I say it more often, it’s possible for him to feel less shy about it?”

Ochako considers it, before shrugging. Bakugou was a lot more complicated than people expected him to be, and he didn’t always react in a way that you think he would. “Maybe, maybe not? It really depends.”

“I like him being shy, though,” Todoroki confesses.

Ochako thanks the gods above that she wasn’t drinking her tea when Todoroki said as much, because she’s sure she would have choked.Wow! How was it that she’s never seen this side of Todoroki before, when he’s clearly unashamed to talk about his fondness for Bakugou?

“That’s,” Ochako says, struggling not to laugh, “that’s kind of embarrassing to say, Todoroki-kun!”

“Is it? I didn’t think that...”

If Bakugou had to deal with this kind of thing every day...I’m surprised he hasn’t exploded yet! Ochako thinks while stifling her laughter. “Well, it isn’t bad, I think! A flustered Bakugou-kun can be cute too!”

“I’m glad you agree,” Todoroki says, far too seriously for such a plain (and clearly fond!) statement. “He always gets angry when I say that he’s cute, though. Maybe because people don’t really say that about him often...I’m fine with being the only one to, though.”

“Bakugou-kun is really loved,” Ochako says, nodding in satisfaction before she finishes off her cup of tea. “I’m glad! How about you, though, Todoroki-kun? Do you feel loved?”

Todoroki’s expression goes very soft very quickly, Ochako almost makes an embarrassing noise out of surprise. His eyebrows gentle in their firm lines, and his eyes, even with their opposing colors, turn warm. Even his polite smile manages to change into something soft and sweet, which she’s only ever seen hints of whenever Bakugou is around. He says, “I—”

Knock knock knock.

“Oi, open the door.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun’s here! So quick,“ she says as she stands up. “I’ll get the door so just stay here, Todoroki-kun!”

Todoroki nods easily enough, which catches Ochako off guard for a moment. She’d have thought, given his obvious fondness, that he’d be eager to greet Bakugou as he comes in instead of letting her do it.

...well, she’s probably just overthinking it.

“I’m coming!” she calls out, rushing over to the genkan before unlocking the door. Bakugou, dressed down to civilian clothes, greets her with a bored expression the moment he enters.

“I’m home,” he says, seeming more out of habit than anything else as he removes his shoes and slips into grey house slippers. 

“Welcome home,” Ochako says, grinning cheekily at the huff it gets her in response. “We were both just drinking tea in the kitchen, Bakugou-kun. Do you want me to get you a cup?"

“Sure,” he says easily enough, following after her as she returns to their kitchen.

Todoroki visibly perks up when he sees Bakugou coming in right after her. The sight of it is so surprisingly cute that Ochako has to cover her mouth from letting out an accidental giggle. “Welcome home,“ Todoroki tells him. “I’m hungry.”

“I just got home, and that’s the first thing you tell me? You’re too spoiled,” Bakugou huffs, before coming over to pinch Todoroki on the nose. “I’m only allowing this because you’re injured.”

“Mm, I know,” Todoroki says, smiling as he cranes his neck back, almost like asking for something. Ochako watches it all happen from the corner of her eye as she pours a cup of tea for Bakugou; she’s a little surprised that they could act so affectionate so openly, even while knowing that there’s someone else present in their home.

Then, Bakugou kisses Todoroki on the forehead.

Ochako coughs loudly, before grinning at the glare Bakugou throws her way when he pulls back. It’s amazing how much less effective his intimidation tactics are when she’s just witnessed him being cute with Todoroki. She was never scared of him even in the beginning, knowing that he was really mostly bark than bite, but this definitely took the cake when it came to proving her point that he’s not a person to fear when you’re a friend.

“You’re staying for dinner,” Bakugou says imperiously, not saying anything about that little domestic act she just witnessed. He even accepts the cup of tea she’d poured for him, but not before having it pass from Todoroki’s uninjured, heat quirk-using hand.

She agrees easily to the invitation. “Sure!”

“Do I get cold soba?” Todoroki asks. 

“No. You’re injured and you need to recover; eating food other than cold soba will help.”

Todoroki throws a sulky look at him. His lips are pursed somewhat, his eyes gleaming with dissatisfaction— Ochako wouldn’t think this was the same person as earlier who’d insisted that he would pour tea for her even when he was injured.

It’s like...he’s acting more spoiled, now that Bakugou is there to spoil him.

Oh.

“You two are really cute,” she says, grinning at the contrasting expressions she gets on both their faces. Todoroki blinks at her in quiet surprise, while Bakugou squints like he’s trying to figure out her hidden intentions. “I think I’ve figured it out,” she adds, belatedly remembering a small (but very important) detail she’d almost forgotten to mention.

“Hah? Figured what out?” Bakugou asks her, setting down his now-empty cup.

“Did you know? Recovery Girl’s niece is a practicing doctor now too,” she says while resting her cheek on one hand. “She’s a fan of pro hero Shouto, there’s no doubt she’d heal him quick if ever he needed it. Her quirk has more to do with healing bones too, which is lucky! I just remembered that.”

Todoroki says nothing to that. Bakugou looks annoyed still, though it’s subdued...almost like he’s starting to get a grasp of what she means.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, just watching happily as Todoroki stays still in his seat while throwing furtive glances Bakugou’s way.

Eventually, Bakugou shakes his head with a huff. “This idiot can handle a small injury. He can’t abuse that kinda quirk when it was his mistake that gave him a broken arm in the first place,” Bakugou says, roughly messing up Todoroki’s hair with one hand before getting the ingredients Ochako had set aside on the kitchen countertop. As he’s laying them all out in preparation, he adds, “And he likes being spoiled. Don’t be fooled by that face of his; he can be pretty selfish when he wants to be.”

Todoroki is smiling when Ochako turns her gaze to him.

“Katsuki is kind, for loving the selfish me,” Todoroki says, gaze lowered to his lap, the downward angle of his face giving her a slight peek at smiling eyes.

Wow.

“Nothing kind about common sense,” Bakugou says, not once looking their way as he brings out pots and pans for the soup he’s going to make. “Because I love you, I’m not gonna pick out which parts to love. You’re stuck with me now, idiot.”

Ochako shoots a grin Todoroki’s way, who doesn’t bother to hide the wide smile on his own face when he raises his head to her.

“And I’m glad for that,” Todoroki says. Then, nodding to the teapot, he says, “Did you want more tea, Uraraka? I could heat it up.”

“Nope, I’m good! I want to be hungry so I can eat a lot of Bakugou-kun’s food,” she says, laughing at the middle finger Bakugou consequently flips at her.

Ah, how nice.

They really are that deeply in love with each other.

#todobaku #tdbk #uraraka ochako pov #fanfic #my writing

[tothemeadow]

Tw// map

Hi Empress! I'm feeling really lonely rn and I wanted to get something off my chest. I tried telling my mom and she just called me dirty so I'm pretty sad rn. Umm I'm a bit young so I don't know what to do about this but block but someone in a gc I'm in came out as a map and I got bullied for saying it was wrong. Some people in there even backed him up, and made jokes saying "no wonder your fics are so good". I feel really sick rn, especially because it provides a lot of context to the conversations they've been having with me. I was just happy to have a new kny friend but he always made things sexual, I've told them no before but they just got angry. Told me that I let my other friends (that are also minors) talk to me about it so it makes them feel bad that I reject them. I tried explaining that it was because hes an adult, and he told me that I shouldn't think sexually about characters then. I felt shitty and believed them, so I told him I could handle it and he would keep talking to me about increasingly nastier things and making characters even younger than Canon age to roleplay. I brought it up again and said that I started to feel weird around them for the content and would prefer if they didn't talk to me about it, and then he accused me of saying he was a pedophile and transphobic. He got really aggressive and called me sensitive, shitty, fancop, prude. Again, I made the mistake of apologizing, I didn't want him to hate me especially because he would be nice to me outside of that. I've just been silent about everything I've been seeing. It made me really hate myself, like I lost the ability to really feel crushes or anything and I feel sick thinking about anything even vaguely spicy. So to see him openly admit that he is a map and everyone just keep supporting him killed my spirit immensely. It was only like 3 other people that stood against it and we all got pretty much told to just block. He has a decent following on kny Twitter and I know if I posted anything more people would just shit on me so. I feel like I'm a dumb whore for even letting this bother me, everyday I feel more and more like this is just my fault for being upset about it.

No, no, no, you have every right to be upset about this. All of this dwindles down to society’s viewings of such things: 1) people hate talking about things that make them feel uncomfortable, and 2) sexualization of younger people continues to increase.

And no, I’m not just saying in a pedophilia type of way, I’m just saying in general. You ever see those memes about how 13 year olds dress differently now than they did 10 years ago? It’s true. Some of the shit I see today is downright bewildering, and I honestly can’t pinpoint a time in our society where younger people had to act like this.

I guess another good point could be tiktok, and I’ve seen videos of minors doing suggestive dances, sticking out their tongues, overall having “sultry” vibes... And I’m sitting here like Jesus Christ. You all know I have a point here; some of the “famous tiktokkers” (or whatever the fuck they’re called) fall into this category.

What I’m trying to say is that society essentially promotes this type of behavior, yet still frowns upon pedophilia. Granted, pedophilia is still gross, but I feel like it’s moving into a morally gray area and that kind of frightens me. You have every right to stand up and tell this person that what he does isn’t right - even morally disgusting - and he should stop this bullshit. Of course, he’s trying to pin his toxic behaviors on you. Why? Because he’s a fucking pig who can’t stand being told “no.” I’m genuinely sorry you’re being bullied about this.

That being said, having sexual desires is perfectly normal. I don’t know if people can understand that it is literally in our genetic coding to mate and reproduce, but it’s always been regarded as vulgar. Being attracted to fictional characters is fine. Hell, I’m attracted to minor characters, but does that mean I want to have sex with them? No. Does that mean I want to have sex with regular fifteen year olds I pass by on the street? No.

When I was 12, I watched Black Butler for the very first time. I loved Ciel and developed a character crush on him; however, as I grew older, it disappeared because I realized it would be weird of me to be attracted to a 13 year old kid. Now, if I envision him in an older context and have him acting his age (let’s say in his twenties), there’s nothing wrong with that.

I understand a lot of people have issues with aging characters up. However it is still fiction. If rewrite Tanjiro to be a blond, how is that any different than having him be 20 whenever I write about him? On the other hand, if I write sexual things about him when he’s in a twelve year old’s body, I fully expect somebody to clap my ass.

It is not your fault for being upset about this. It is not your fault this guy is acting like a fucking jackhole. It is not your fault for wanting to protect others. This guy is gaslighting you (and I may be using the wrong terminology here) for making it seem like you’re the problem here.

Humans are curious by nature. Humans are sexual by nature. Humans are not pedophiles by nature. This guy has made a decision to be attracted to minors, and he’s simply trying to “convert” you or whatever. You should be proud for not following the crowd of your group chat and letting him slide with this. And yes, I personally believe people should live how they want, but if they’re in any shape or form endangering others, that’s where I draw the line.

Frankly, him treating you this way is disgusting. I want to castrate him. Thank you for listening to my rambling.

#empress talks #tw map