#HE WAS JUST SO EAGER TO EAT THE CURRY BUT HE NOTICED THAT SOMEONE'S BEEN STARING AT HIM WAY TOO LONG | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-need-air · 3 years

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Good news; Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.

Summary: F!Reader. Your soon to be husband arrives home just as you settled down, not knowing the recently made curry is not the only surprise of the evening.

Word Count: 3.3k [It all started with a drabble💀]

Warnings: Disgusting fluff. So much fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Reader is female and can get pregnant aaaand I just spoiled everything. More fluff and Katsuki ruining the fluff bc he's a gremlin even when older. Pro Hero Bakugou so expect him to be kinda more mature. Fluffy petnames and fluff. Did I mention fl—🤡

You sighed, sprawled over the couch in a comfortable position, action movie playing in the backround as you were fidgeting with the engagement ring on your finger, a small smile plastered on your face. Red ruby, just as his eyes; your mind drifted to all the compliments you threw at him about those eyes that flustered him beyond reason. Through a chuckle, the jewel reached your lips as you landed a kiss on it.

The key jiggle made your lips curve more and you covered more under the fluffy blanket, eager and giddy to see his face. He was so obnoxiously loud even while doing the smallest tasks, like just coming through the door of your shared apartment. With a groan and a very audible neck crack, he threw the keys in the bowl by the entrance and spotted you on the couch.

"Lookin' comfortable." His voice was amused, hidden between his normal gruff tone. You could only wiggle your exposed toes at him as a greeting, earning a scoff in return.

With that, he started his usual routine of bitching about his side-kicks, villains, the world; you name it and Bakugou Katsuki has a reason to trash talk about it. Yet this time he interrupted himself in his monologue as he smelled the air just as he was approaching the sofa, stopping himself in his tracks.

"Is that curry?" He said, suddently all annoyance regarding everything and everyone forgotten, the smell of delicious spicy food making him look like a child excited to be alive. With a giggle, you nodded at his expression, absolutely adoring his bright face.

"Yeah, I did. Just finished it, actually."

"Damn. What's the occasion, princess?" He asked with a smirk before throwing the blanket off, then launched himself on you like a dead weight, making you groan. Katsuki always seemed to forget how incredibly built he was. Massive, muscular and acted like a total baby whenever he was exhausted, specially enjoying sprawling himself on you whenever he got the chance.

"Not hungry?" You mutter, deciding to not answer his question and trying your best to find a position to breathe while still encircling him with your arms, although it seemed a hard task. You opted to lead his head into your chest, then massage his back muscles with soft fingertips, just as he loved and denied to love simultaneously.

He hid his expression into your cleavage, grumbling something indistinguishable as he cuddled closer into you. How come he always had this effect on you? Such a giant baby yet these tender actions had your heart going crazy, making you melt into him. Or, more likely, get squished under him.

"Didn't catch that, baby." He groaned, urging you to massage him more as he lifted his face a little just so you can hear better.

"I fuckin' said—" of course he had to be a pain in the ass too; he bit your breast lightly which earned a slap on his shoulder and with a smirk, he continued. "Just wanna stay like this for a while." You noticed his pout before he rubbed his forehead into your neck. Katsuki has been overworking himself since he opened his own hero agency and, even if it got amazing results, sometimes he forgot to just take care of himself. It's the reason why you decided to take it upon yourself to remind him. Although he complained and grumbled like an old man that's done with life, you could always see the beginning of a smirk plastered on his beautiful face, hint that he loved the attention and care. What a baby, your fiancé that is.

"C'mon, baby, you need to eat." Any attempt to remove him from your person was brushed off completely since he weighted like a tank. He even dared to whine and encircle his arms around you. Definitely a baby.

"Did ya eat?" His voice was soft and you almost missed it.

"Not yet. I was waiting for you." You answer just as low, running your fingers through his incredibly soft hair. How dare he use the same hair products you use and have such different results? Like you'd ever ask out loud, knowing he'd just smirk triumphantly as if he won an imaginary competition.

Even if he didn't express it vocally, Katsuki was thankful for these domesticity, that being having dinner together whenever you had the chance. Yet he always answers with the same "You shouldn't have, you stubborn woman." Just like now.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, the usual bickering starting, same bickering that always making you feel warmth in your stomach, but now it wasn't the time to play since you had other plans. With that, you lifted the hairs brushing his forehead and gave him a kiss before looking up at the ceiling, still continuing your gentle ministrations.

"So... I was thinking."

"Ah, fuck—" Before he could throw a sarcastic joke around, you pressed his face into your chest to quiet the attempt, the deep rumble coming from his chest making you shake. "You tryin' to fucking kill me?" His amused accusations made you gasp dramatically.

"Right back at you!" His lips parted but you interrupted. "So I was thinking—" He shut up, not before giving you a a glare. "Remember when you took me hiking for the first a couple of years ago?"

"What about it?" His interest peaked, he raised himself on his elbow while giving you a raised brow.

"We reached the top of the mountain and we could see all Musutafu from there..." With muscle memory alone, your hand landed in his cheek to caress it, feeling his sharp cheekbone and adoring the way he leaned into it by reflex too. "I didn't watch it at all." His scandalized face made you laugh but you proceeded, not giving him a chance to scold the living hell out of you. "I was looking at you."

The statement just made his mouth shut closed, surprise washing over him.

"Why the f—"

"All I could think was Holy shit, I love him so much." It took him time to process it. A slow blink was thrown at you as he genuinely did not know how to respond. The image of his increasingly reddened cheeks was imprinting itself in your mind as you never, ever, wanted to forget this moment. And it just started. Butterflies ran through your guts and you felt your hands starting to shake. "You looked at the scenery and had this... serene... smile on your face. I couldn't look away." Your lips found his for just a second. "I thought I wanted to see that smile again and again and... that's when I realized I loved you."

He was malfunctioning at this point and oh, how you loved breaking him in the best way.

"I— But—" His palm reached his face, trying his hardest to hide that enthralling expression he had. There was a visible fight to hide an emerging grin and he was losing, the red in his cheeks and his normally prickly self still made him attempt a scowl. He then groaned loudly, taking the palm still placed on his cheeks to hide his eyes behind. "You fucking told me you loved me instantly after." He was grinning fully by now, intense orbs watching through your fingers.

"I just knew I always wanted to come to you first to tell you something. Like—" again, he's giving all his attention. "Good news, bad news... Whenever I need someone's opinion or just to rant... I always knew you're the first one I want to go to."

As years passed through your relationship, your words always managed to leave him mute and the affection coming with them was something Katsuki sometimes struggled to accept, at least at the beginning. By now you both matured together and it didn't seem to be an issue anymore yet with your speech, he did not know what to say. Only wonder showed.

"I just hope you feel the same about me." The shy, small whisper woke him up from whatever daze he was in and a determined and somewhat cocky expression took over him.

"Damn right I do! Like I'd go to any other extra when I got you."

Your fiancé, contrary to popular belief, wasn't just a brash, head straight into action type of man. He was observant and knew how to pick his fights. Katsuki also knew you very well as he studied you even before starting to go out together. He knew your moods and he definitely picked up that this conversation was serious. Exactly why he indulged you with the next sentence in all seriousness.

"What brings this up, babe?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you." As much as it was very true, it wasn't exactly the end of the conversation and he knew. His lips were soft as they pressed on yours, his cologne filling your lungs, his hand pulling you close, closer. Before he could get the chance to taste you more, the tease that he was, he pulled away.

"I love you too, princess." Those words always, without a fail, made you shiver or melt. And this time you did both, the dumbest grin taking over you only in response at his expression. The expression you always chased since that fateful day. The same serene and at peace look he gave was now focused on you and for a single second you got overwhelmed with love, making you blink away the happy tears threatening to approach. Because it wasn't over; you still had to deliver some news and the thought made your voice shaky.

"I have a surprise for you." Your noses were still touching, his breath was fanning over you. Self control had to be damned for another moment as you sweetly kissed his lips again. How can he be so addictive? Another kiss. So sweet. Another. So soft and so perfect.

"Yeah?" His smallest whisper still sounded rough.

"Mhm..." With a head movement, you pointed at the chocolate box placed strategically on the small table by your side, sharp rubies following the movement in confusion, giving you the chance to kiss the cheek now in front of you. "You know I've been feeling pretty bad recently."

"And you still ate the damned fucking chocolates." He muttered, feeling the moment was over. Oh, poor, innocent Katsuki.

"There was a reason for that."

"Open the box." As if you told him the world's greatest secret, he hesitated with suspicion. "C'mon, baby." His petname made him perk, the plea in your tone leading him to give in with a long, exagerated sigh and furrowed brows. He threw his arm to grab the red box then settled himself back on your body, practically opening his surprise on your stomach.

The small white stick hidden inside of it stuck out like a sore thumb and The Great Bakugou Katsuki just stared at it plainly. Taking in the object like it's a weird, ancient artifact he was trying really hard to descypher. Nervousness was running through your veins and you bit your lips in hesitancy. The moment the gears in his head started working and some wires connected to get to the point finally came and you observed it with great care. His brows raised as he adjusted his position better, and with a child-like confusion merged with an indescribable spark behind his eyes, he raised his gaze towards you.

"Is this—" His breath hitched and even if his lips were trembling, they gave away a ghost of a smile. Still, his eyebrows were so high it was hilarious.

"Aha."

"The two lines...?" He got up, looking between you and the now harshly gripped pregnancy test in his hand. It seemed his brain was processing it slowly.

"It means it's positive, Katsuki."

The longest silence followed and as he stood there in a sitting position, expression hidden by his blond hair, you did not know what to feel. All you knew is that your chest burned with nervousness, your stomach turned again and again, the butterflies still spiraling around crazed. The need to know what he was thinking was taking over you but deep down a voice told you to just take in the moment and wait patiently.

The voice, your instinct and intuition built around this man were all right, because it did not take Katsuki long to start shaking. He rubbed his face, rushed and clumsy, rare of him. His leg started bouncing and a choked attempt of a laugh escaped his mouth. But it was the sniffle that made you bolt up and put a hand on his tensed shoulder.

"You're—" he struggled to talk. "You're fucking— You're pregnant?"

When he landed his gaze on you, all the increasing nerves started dissipating. Unshed tears were in the corners of his eyes. His lips were trembling but hid a smirk. He was rattled, all sense of tiredness gone... Bakugou Katsuki looked nervous, excited, amazed as he took you in through a new light. Like he ultimately understood what was going on and understood that right then and there, inside your belly a small new life was being created.

It took you back to the top of Musutafu, his face, his serene face. This Katsuki was now your favorite Katsuki. This trembling mess of a man, holding down his excitement made you adore him yet again for the n-th time in your life and you found yourself falling deeper in love with him.

So with a struggled breath, he blinked a couple of times to wake up from his daydream and his smile turned into a grimace.

"Wait. You fucking peed on this?" Although it was a question, he almost stated it with a straight face and the moment was gone. Vanished. Perished into nothing. More likely into boiling fury.

"You infuriating, insufferable, annoying man. I cleaned the damned test afterwards!" you groaned, getting up, not knowing if you wanted to cry, slap him, hug him, kiss him or throw the whole man plus the pregnancy test out the window. The only direction in your mind was the kitchen, where the delicious curry was cooling down. "You find out I'm pregnant and that's what you fucking have to s—?" He was faster, incredibly so, grabbing your hand and throwing you into him until your back was glued into his front and he laughed, sniffled and laughed some more. It wasn't his usual arrogant one, nor his characteristic scoffs of amusement. It was Katsuki laughing wholeheartedly at your reaction and at whatever was going on.

He encircled you into his arms again and you noted how small you felt anytime he did that. The whole revolution in your stomach returned as his nose hid into the nape of your neck and started shaking with you in his embrace.

"Holy fucking shit." He squeezed you into him, hands traveling to your covered belly as he tried his hardest to control his trembling self and failed miserably. Not that either cared. The gentlest he's ever been, he raised your shirt and ran his fingers over the exposed flesh. "We made a fucking baby!" Only he could proclaim that with such victory, all while you stared down at his roughed and calloused hands now placed carefully on your stomach. You couldn't even savor it and attempt to place yours on top of his because he spun you around without grace in an instant and held you by your shoulders. "WE MADE A FUCKING BABY!"

The feeling left your body and you burst into a teary laughter as you nodded. The same rough palms grabbed you by the cheeks, squishing, and he kissed you. Hard and shaky, brash and messy as you relaxed and took all of it in, welcoming it and asking for more. His heart was beating hard, so hard it rivaled yours and he seemed to have a hard time deciding what to do first; kiss, talk or breathe.

"Fuck—" he growled into your lips. "Holy fuck—" his thumbs brushed the corner of your eyes, washing away the teardrops.

"You shouldn't swear in front of the baby." You teased. What you did not expect was for him to lean back, inhale sharply and look down at your stomach with wide orbs.

"Fuck, what?! Shit— I mean— Already?!" His panic just amused you further and the guilt he was oozing made you giggle.

"Of course not, you goof. Maybe in a few months though..."

You'd expect a snap back, an annoyed grunt, a sassy retort, a sarcastic jab at the silly joke you made, an argument to defend himself. Anything but him falling on his knees in a slow motion and raising your shirt again just to stare.

Your last statement maybe made him fall again into a spiral of realization because it surely did that for you too. In a few months...

"For how long have you known?"

"I started thinking about it a couple of weeks ago—" Like you'd slapped him, he snapped towards you in an incredulous, shocked manner. "But I wanted to wait to see if my period maybe decided to come very late and when it didn't—" he calmed. "I took the tests. Today."

"Tests?" He pulled you closer by the hips.

"I bought 5 different ones. I had to drink so much water." You grin and he scoffs.

"You didn't wait to tell me, hah?" How come he sounded so accusing even when you did something good and even when he smiled while saying it?

"Of course not. I told you, silly, I always go to you first with any news. Good or bad..."

He noticed. He always does. Never the verbal man, he was not the type to say something unless completely and utterly necessary, instead he was one to show what was needed to be said with actions. But being together for so long, he learned that sometimes he needed to voice out a few things, just to easen your poor confused and uncertain heart. After really taking your previous words to heart, accepting them and loving them, he did have to reassure you.

"This is good news, princess. This is—" On his knees, grinning like a mad man, the sparkle in his red eyes made you nod, not even knowing why, and pull him closer into your body. His cheek touched your stomach and he relaxed, snuggling closer into it. "This is amazing fucking news." His breath tickled and you nodded again into the air, weight lifting off your shoulders.

While normally he was the one to hilariously ruin a sweet scenery with one of his snarky remarks just to easen the overwhelming emotions from said situation, it did not happen this time. No. This time you did as your stomach rumbled loudly into his ear and you started wheezing, both out of embarrassment and amusement.

"For fuck's sake, [Y/N]! You should've eaten!" He raised and in the blink of the eye he dragged you towards the kitchen.

"Sorry! I forgot to eat today and I wanted to wait for you to surpr—"

"SAY FUCKING WHAT—?! You forgot to eat— THE WHOLE FUCKING DAY?!"

His screaming, his flustered and annoyed face, the way he threw the curry into a plate and placed it in front of you, the way he tapped his foot on the ground waiting for you to eat... The way a vein popped on his forehead as an idiotic smile washed over you...

"I love you, Katsu..."

"Yeah, yeah, eat the damned food already. Always have to be so fuckin' cheesy. Can't fucking believe you did not eat at all today, you annoying woman. You fucking tell me every single day to take care of myself and now you pull this shit—" his incessant rambling continued even after you started eating so you decided to be mischievous.

"We love you, Katsu."

He then short-circuited.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha #bnha x reader #noirewrites

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kotosnoozy · 3 years

Text

「fourteen」 chapter 1

"Yuri did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed. I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” Hanks says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.” “O-oh?” Estelle stammers. “Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

On the nature of Yuri's first crush.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first.

Hanks’s fond babbling about Yuri over their extremely well-earned dinner is incredibly revealing about the usually cool-headed leader of their motley crew. The old man proves himself a riveting story-teller, keeping their entire party entertained for hours on end despite the incredibly long and taxing 48 sleepless hours they’ve had.

(‘Though there was almost a permanent sleep in there for some of us,’ Raven finds himself thinking morbidly, before digging his bitten-down nails as deep into his ankles as he can to distract himself)

It feels like the only time any of them stop smiling and laughing is to take another mouthful from their bowls of curry, piled high from the seemingly endless and eternal pots of the stuff in the knight’s mess hall (or in Rita’s case, to test out another formula against the system Alexei’s locked the princess into - luckless so far, but she’s yet to lose determination).

Hanks has provided all sorts of anecdotes: the adventures of a baby Yuri who had just learned to walk, quicker to his feet than Flynn but still only babbling in response to the younger’s full fledged scolding - their dynamic had formed incredibly early on, it seemed; fond recollections of helping him to learn to bind properly, their first real bonding experience that had endeared them to each other as adoptive-grandfather-and-grandson; prideful recounts of Yuri’s development from childhood cynophobia into a renowned dog-lover, of all the other little things Yuri had been scared of as a child and grown out of in time (and those he hadn’t - Raven makes a few mental notes for later reference); all the fights Yuri and Flynn had gotten into over the years, and the brief interlude where they had dated in their teens (‘If anything,’ he laughs, ‘the bickering became even more frequent at that point - thank heavens they didn’t last!’); and of course, everyone’s old favourite - that one time 2 years ago when he’d thrown Adecor into the river on tax day.

Raven’s heard that one on a number of occasions from all four of the people who’d been present when it occurred - it somehow never gets any less funny.

While most of Brave Vesperia and it's honorary members are thrilled to learn more about their favourite rebel, Yuri himself is less than happy about Hanks laying out his life story for everyone to see. It's plain on his face - the grimace of a man who appreciates how much his parents love him but would really prefer they didn't tell his date about the time he streaked naked through the town and peed in a fountain at 5 years old. His embarrassment is palpable, a pink glow to his ears that slowly spreads to his cheeks the longer and more intimate Hanks’ stories become.

It’s as he brings up Yuri’s childhood dream of joining the knights so he could sweep a princess off her feet, pointedly winking in Estelle’s direction, that their so-called fearless leader bolts to his feet. He spins on his heel, making a beeline to the other side of the room, and plonks himself violently between a bewildered Adecor and Boccos, immediately thrown from their confusion into annoyance as Yuri’s food slops all over both of them.

His previous dining companions merely snicker in his wake, Hanks chuckling fondly.

“He’s always been so easily riled, that boy. If this is how flustered he gets over just you lot hearing all this then I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when he finally shacks up with someone.’

“Wait, but didn’t you say he dated Flynn when they were younger?” Karol asks, head cocking to one side.

“Well between you, me and our gatepost friends here,” the old man says, leaning in - they all follow suit, as Hanks’ eyes pointedly glance over to Flynn, “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings if he hasn’t realised, but I always got the impression that Yuri was far less invested in their relationship than Flynn. It was Flynn who asked him out, after all.”

“My, that does surprise me. Yuri’s always seemed like he’d be the more proactive of the two when it comes to romance.” Judy muses.

Hanks raises his eyebrows, thin lips twisting into an uneasy frown.

“Wait a minute,” Rita says, leaning even further forward. “You’re not saying Yuri never had feelings for him are you?”

He winces, gaze averting. Raven feels his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“They’ve always loved each other, of course. But the tone of that love seems to differ between them. Their relationship was what happened when they tried to figure that out, it seems, but ultimately…”

“They just weren’t compatible as partners of that type?”

“Right.” he nods to Estelle. “In all honesty, Yuri might give off the air of someone with considerable relationship experience, but it’s Flynn who attracts more attention. And seems more interested in others in turn.”

Raven finds his gaze wandering between the two in question - Flynn has managed to find himself eating amidst a small crowd, knights and lower quarter folks alike, all of them doting on him and telling him stories, and him listening attentively to each of them in turn. Yuri, meanwhile is… wrestling with all three of the ex-Schwann Brigade’s most prominent knights simultaneously. Astounding.

“Yeah that tracks.” he finds himself murmuring, nails scratching through the chest hair that rises above the collar of his shirt. Even if Flynn wasn’t the most eager to please others between the two, the young man radiates a natural charm that draws others to him like a moth to a flame - it’s hard to forget how he was upstaged the time he took him drinking in Dahngrest. Yuri, meanwhile, has a proclivity for trouble and a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his wit. While endearing, he can’t imagine it’s the most efficient for pursuing new connections - even if he’s managed to attract all of the motley crew Raven’s currently sat with.

“So Flynn’s a secret ladies’ man and Yuri, despite all the pomp and swagger, has absolutely no game?” Rita snickers, casting a wry look across the room at Yuri that he’s too distracted to notice.

“Well I don’t know about that. Flynn’s a man’s man if nothing else, never shown interest in women to my knowledge. But… I don’t think Yuri’s ever actually been interested in dating , full stop.”

“No way, really?!” Karol barks. The exclamation draws the attention of the groups sat closest to them, even Flynn, momentarily, before they go busily back to their meals. Flynn’s expression as he looks at them is pondering, almost puppy-like, and Karol’s panic is practically visible as they watch him seemingly wrestle with whether to come over and see what the fuss is about. Then the woman at his side taps a hand to his elbow gently, and his manners win out - she successfully steals his attention back around, all of his interest in their discussion completely forgotten.

“Well. It certainly seems that way anyway. I remember him asking me, back when they dated, how he would know if his feelings for someone were romantic. He didn’t seem to understand my answer very well."

“That’s unexpected. I suppose my advances have all been vain!” Patty whines. Raven finds himself snickering - whether Patty’s affections are genuine or not is one mystery he's yet to solve, but her playing it up is never any less entertaining or fun to tease.

“Though now that I think about it… he did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed.”

Patty surges forward onto her hands and knees, scrambling to get in Hanks’ face. Surprisingly, he’s not that caught off guard - perhaps used to it from Yuri’s exuberance as a child, or that other kid from the lower quarter who’s off chasing Repede on the far side of the room.

“I need all the details, matey! Don’t spare a single one!”

Hanks chuckles.

“I’m very sorry young lady, but he didn’t tell me all that much! I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.”

“O-oh?” Estelle stammers.

“Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

“My my! That’s quite the considerable age gap.” Judy coos, tone teasing in spite of Yuri’s absence. She turns over to look at him, sitting atop a pile of knights and triumphantly tucking into a second of four bowls (spoils of war, Raven would wager) - they all do, in fact.

“Kid’s got taste at least. Nothin’ quite like the mature allure of an older lady~'' Raven sing-songs, half-joking. Rita jabs him in the side harshly.

“Shut up old man-- you said you thought it was Estelle he had a crush on right? So are you saying this is recent? ”

It’s like a switch flips in all of their heads simultaneously. Faces filled with shock whip to look at Hanks, who sits sheepishly clutching his bowl.

“Whoops. Might’ve let a little too much information slip on that one. I was probably meant to keep that detail private…”

“Oh my go--”

Rita slaps a hand over Karol’s mouth before his shriek draws too many eyes over. They all meet each other's' gaze one by one - Yuri's crushing on someone for the first time ever at this exact moment - before turning to look back at Yuri again. He’s mid-mouthful, spoon clutched in his hand like a shovel and sauce dripping down his chin, as he turns to survey his surroundings and catches their eyes.

“What?” he chokes out around his mouthful, just audible over the bustle of the rest of the room. He must see the sheer shock on their faces, as concern starts to cross his face and his gaze wanders to Hanks. “Wait, what did you tell them, old man?”

Hanks chooses that exact moment to get up, incredibly swiftly for a man his age.

“Well, thank you all for keeping me company, kids, but I must be off to… check on other people in… other parts of the castle. Right. Goodbye.”

The speed at which he heads for the door is quite remarkable - Yuri barely manages to scramble off his knight-pile-cum-throne before he’s gone from sight, and presumably halfway down the corridor before Yuri makes it out of the room after him.

It’s a shock, that much is certain. Raven hadn’t thought Yuri would be interested in older women - or people he supposes, he’s never really shown any inclination to anyone before in a romantic sense, so certainly not any specific gender. He’d never much struck him as the type.

But then he hadn’t struck him as the type to be interested in any type of relationship until this curveball of a conversation had come along. So hey, why not. If Yuri was into older people, he certainly wasn’t intending to torment him about it. Other than maybe one opportunely timed quip.

Honestly, he really hadn’t thought much about it at first.

But then the kids throw their own curveball.

“I can’t believe Yuri likes someone so much older than him!! Like, I guess I get the appeal of someone a little older than you for like… security or something, I dunno. But man, 14 years!!” Karol exclaims, as quietly as he can for his excitement. “I wonder if we know who it is.”

Rita barks a laugh, catching a distracted Patty off-guard. She begins anew whatever calculations she’d been making on her fingers as Rita shrugs exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s some big-boobed motherly-figure in the lower quarter or something.”

“Well if all he wanted was big boobs and a nurturing personality then I’ve been here this whole time, all he had to do was ask!” Judith sighs, sly smirk giving away her lack of sincerity.

“Hey,” Patty pipes up suddenly, drawing their attention. “Isn’t Raven about 14 years older than Yuri?”

He feels the cogs in his brain whirr to a stop.

Suddenly, he is thinking very much about it.

“Oh yeah!” he hears Karol chirp. No doubt he checks the calculations on his own fingers, but Raven doesn’t register it if so, hard as he’s trying just to think at all. “Haha, that’s a weird coincidence!”

Estelle giggles.

“Imagine if it was Raven he had a thing for!”

He feels their eyes on him instantly, but it takes a moment for his brain to catch up. His own eyes must be wide as saucers, as they look at him, the mirth starting to fall from Estelle’s expression - he forces a ridiculous grin to his face.

“Haha, yeah imagine that! Someone like Yuri fallin’ for a washed up old fart like me!” he cackles, voice strained even to his own ears. “That’d be ridiculous!!”

The kids buy it though, Karol laughing along before pulling the others back into their debate about exactly who the mystery object of Yuri’s affections could be. It’s Estelle whose gaze lingers on him, just a moment or two longer, as the facade starts to crack, but she must see it - the silent plea in his eyes - as she turns back to the others not a moment later.

If anyone notices that Raven is mentally tapped out until they all go their separate ways for the night, then they’re at least polite enough not to mention it.

⇷-------------

Raven is a strange one.

This is Yuri’s third time meeting the man (or fourth, if the time Rita threatened to set him alight in Capua Torim counts as an actual encounter) and in all honesty, it’s hard to get a read on him past him being very obviously shady.

He seems as though he might be someone of consequence, if the quality of information he so casually throws like bones to random guards is actually as quality as he would have them believe. Either way he’s certainly silver-tongued, plying the others in Yuri’s makeshift travelling party into submission fairly easily despite their initial apprehension about him. Karol and Estelle are charmed by him, by his goofy antics if not the lolloping drawl of his accent, though they make no effort to hide the fact that they find him fishy. While Rita is far less taken, she seems to be placated by him taking her punishments, both fire and fists, like a champ.

The charm isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye though. He skulks at the back of the group, heavy footed and posture slouched. His clothes all seem far too big for him, obscuring the shape of his body in a way Yuri supposes is meant to make him seem unassuming, and he’s already displayed a number of habits that he knows would make any upper quarter noble’s toes curl - picking at his ears and the skin around his nails, before chewing at the nails themselves.

He has to admit though, he’s quite handsome in the face beneath the mess of dusty brown hair. Not in the same way as Flynn, with his big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, the very picture of a storybook knight. His crooked nose, chapped lips, stubbly chin and hollow cheeks certainly make for a more unconventional type of attractive, but they all come together to create a certain appeal. The brightness of his eyes certainly helps too.

Also the combat prowess. Fighting ability is always an attractive quality in Yuri’s opinion, but especially in a travelling companion.

For a self-professed old man, Raven’s far more nimble than Yuri had expected. Sure, he’d made quite the getaway back in Capua Nor after he’d sold them out, but he’d assumed that’d been a one-off desperate sprint, not the norm. Apparently he was wrong, based on the nimble footwork he employs to dart out of the way of a particularly feisty howler. It doesn’t escape his notice how Karol nearly falls flat on his ass when Raven rushes past him and twists himself at an insane angle to fire an arrow across the way, skewering a beetle between its mandibles before it can take a bite out of Estelle.

“Woah, Raven!! Yuri, you’ve got some serious competition for your acrobatics now!!”

The bark of laughter leaves his throat unwittingly.

“I didn’t realise there even was a competition!”

He sees Rita roll her eyes as she releases a torrent of water behind her, clearly disbelieving him and with good reason; he’s never been one to back down from a potential competition. He breaks away from the corner of the forest floor he’s been holding down, using the momentum to propel himself up and over Raven, carrying it into his sword as he flips to crash it down into the skull of another monster. Raven whistles appreciatively as it disappears into dust.

“Not bad, young ‘un!”

He throws a smirk over his shoulder, ego swelling at the genuine awe on Raven’s face.

“How’s about it, old man? First to twenty?”

The awe transforms into a grimace in an instant.

“Ahhh, I dunno about that. Ol’ Raven’s never really been one for competitions, let alone effort. ”

He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’ve got no choice but to fight to get deeper into the forest anyway, right? So why not make a game of it? Not like it’ll actually be any more effort than you were already putting in.”

Raven purses his lips, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares off, deep in thought, the blue-green seemingly increasing in intensity. For all he’s been putting on the act of a court jester, Yuri is certain in that moment that there’s a deep intelligence to the older man; something unspoken, a wisdom beyond his years.

(Not that he knows how old Raven is but. Well, he gets the feeling that while he’s certainly older than he and his travelling companions, he’s not actually pushing middle-aged yet like he makes out)

Fwip!

He comes back to himself to see Raven’s face closer than before, upside down, chin in line with his collarbone. His bow arm (and subsequently the bow itself) is extended past his shoulder, the other loose by his head having just fired. Behind him there’s a thunk. A screech. A pop. And then silence.

“Looks like that’s one ta me~” Raven coos, eyes hooded as he smirks. He rolls his back, lithe and catlike, to stand himself back upright, stretching his arms out until his shoulders crack. For all his complaining about aches and pains so far (extremely numerous for the time they’ve been travelling with him, maybe an hour at most), he certainly doesn’t move as though he has any joint issues.

Despite his shock, he finds himself laughing.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s just as charmed by Raven as the kids are. He’s never made a connection quite like this one; with someone who can go toe to toe with his dry wit, and make it out the other side without being angry with him. Rita had been the closest (since Niren at least, but Yuri prefers to avoid thinking about the only father he ever knew if he can). But while Rita’s great with a back and forth, she’s easily riled, easily flustered. It only takes one slightly wrong jab and she gets stroppy, or else loses all interest in the situation.

Raven, for all his strangeness, has so far matched Yuri every step of the way. They’ve fallen so easily into a steady banter, something of their own personal comedy routine for just the two of them, some form of it present even from their first encounter way back in that jail cell. To have someone who can appreciate his snark, and give it back just as good while they both know it’s all in good fun? He’d never realised just how much he’d appreciate a relationship like that.

So yeah, Raven’s a little suspicious. But as far as Yuri’s concerned, he’s willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt for the strange comfort he gets from their repartee, just so long as he doesn’t do anything too crazy.

He slaps Raven on the shoulder, moving past him to continue deeper into the oversized brush.

“You got me, old man. But don’t you worry, you won’t be holding that lead for long.”

Raven merely cackles in response, wordlessly filing in behind him.

-------------⇸

There’s only one real constant within their travelling party, and that’s that the sleeping arrangements are ever-changing.

It takes a little while for him to notice, though in his defence the first week or so he’s with them is certainly not a typical week. In the more recent days, they’d gotten lucky with inns having enough beds for all of them, but the first few nights had been entirely sleepless in the hustle and bustle of, y’know, stopping a war, taking down the Blood Alliance and colliding with an actual genuine-article ghost ship.

(He’s still not sure what that was all about if he’s being entirely honest, but he’s old and ““wise”” enough by now that he knows there are some things in this world that you simply shouldn’t question)

So it’s Nordopolica where he finds himself bedding down with his new companions for the first time. The constant hustle and bustle of Palestralle’s workers and the fresh colosseum season unfortunately means there isn’t much free in terms of rooms. On the plus side, the three double beds they’re provided are plenty enough space for them all to be able to sleep comfortably; Fomalhaut’s rooms are quite spacious, nothing at all like the army barracks of his youth (though he supposes that should be expected from a city that considers itself something of an entertainment hub).

Raven takes his time ambling in behind everyone else, absently watching how effortlessly Repede transfers his pipe from one side of his toothy maw to the other. Rushing would be pointless, in his opinion, because he can already envision how everyone will double-up. Rita is sure to claim a spot beside the princess, for whose sake she could not be more clearly continuing to travel for despite her protests, and Judy won’t want to get lumped with a snotty (though admittedly quite sweet) brat or some dirty old man she hardly knows - he’s gonna get stuck with the kid, and the two of them can have a very one-sided competition over whose shitty little brain can give them the most nightmares in one night, and Raven will be perfectly content with that, thank you very much.

(It’ll be him who wins that one - hormone-induced nightmares are nothing compared to the horrors your brain can produce when you have blood and a war on your hands)

And then Karol throws him for a loop by tossing his bag semi-gently to the floor before diving into bed after Rita , of all people.

She hardly even makes a fuss. There’s a yelp - what sounds like it could be the start of the protest Raven would expect from such a combination - before she settles almost immediately.

“Just make sure you don’t kick me awake again, got it?” she barks pointedly at him, before rolling to face away from him and promptly cocooning herself in the blanket. He laughs at her, kicking off his shoes and fluffing up his pillow, seemingly content.

Wide-eyed, Raven turns to the girls - surely he can’t be the only one caught off-guard by this, it seems unthinkable for Rita not to put up a fight to sharing with Karol , and there’s an exclamation of surprise right on the tip of his tongue - only to find them claiming the second bed for themselves, Judy helping Estelle to unfasten the complicated buckles of her dress. He bites his words back, head whipping away; much as the image of a pervert works as a brilliant cover to convince the kids of his idiocy, peeping on the possible-crown princess as she gets changed is certainly not a thing he’s ever aspired to.

And so he comes face to face with the final bed. His bed he supposes, strange as it may still be to him. Yuri’s already making himself comfy on the left side, shirt and jacket thrown over the bottom edge of the bed frame. He stretches his arms up and over his head, muscles rippling as he yawns. He catches Raven’s eye as they fall back down, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“Looks like it’s you and me, old man.” he says, patting the sheets next to him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He can feel his own lips quirk to mirror Yuri’s, even as he fights to push down the instinctive panic.

“And here I was hopin’ ta share with my darlin’ Judy!” he whines playfully, flopping down beside him face first in a show of dramatism.

“Sorry, Raven. I just couldn’t miss the chance to cuddle up with Estelle!” comes her voice, sing-songy, from the bed she’s claimed. He can see, as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better situated, that she’s doing exactly that. She’s practically spooning the princess, face buried in short pink locks, and Estelle herself looks the very picture of a tomato (not that he wouldn’t himself with Judith’s considerable… assets pressed against him).

“Well so long as yer not a cuddler yerself, Mr Lowell.” he jokes, rearranging himself onto his back before pulling the duvet up to his chin. For all that they’re in less than ideal circumstances with sharing beds, he’s glad to see Palestralle don’t skimp on the furnishings for their inns - the linen is incredibly soft, smooth against the pads of his fingers, and it’s a smart fabric choice for an inn in so changeable a climate.

Yuri huffs a laugh.

“I think I can hold myself back this once, just for you.” he says, tone laden with sarcasm. He watches Raven with keen eyes as he lounges on his side, head resting in his hand. Raven wonders how he can sleep like that - how his arm doesn’t cramp in the night, doesn’t wake him up in a fit of panic when he can’t move it, breathing shallow until the blood flow returns. He forgets, sometimes, that not everyone enters a blind panic over the little things.

“Why, I'm honoured! Yer benevolence knows no bounds!" he coos back, nose scrunching in amusement. Yuri smiles as he reaches back and pats Repede where he stands by the bed - a silent request to turn off the overhead light. The pooch complies, trotting off with a clack of his pipe between his teeth - Raven’s constantly caught off guard by the dog’s intelligence, the number of strange things Yuri’s managed to teach him (or perhaps that the dog has taught himself? He’s still not fully certain how much of a hand in training him that the young man’s had), and this is certainly another for the list.

“Damn right it doesn’t. Better make sure you show me the respect I deserve.” he says. He meets his eyes again as the blastia clicks off, dousing them in darkness. They crinkle with mirth, the abyss within softening even more as Karol giggles at their antics on the other side of the room.

They find themselves in a staring contest, of sorts. Or maybe closer to a game of chicken? He’s sure Yuri sees it that way at least, if his unblinking gaze is anything to go by. For him on the other hand it’s… something else. What exactly he can’t say. He’s just... transfixed .

Because Yuri’s plenty handsome on his own - perhaps even beautiful, if that’s more your thing. Raven’s already seen him turn a great many heads in the short time they’ve been together, including both the illustrious head of Fortune’s Market and the great forgotten war hero himself. Maybe he’d even let himself cast an admiring glance his way, if he hadn’t picked specifically womaniser for Raven’s bullshit cover-up trait.

But when the sea-breeze blows gently, kicking up the curtains, and the moonlight shines into the room, it catches him just so. The glow is ethereal, transformative, and it brings out the hidden flecks of golden brown in the depths of Yuri’s eyes, spins the silk of his dark hair almost chestnut. And just for a moment, he can trick himself into believing she’s here, the Canary herself, laid opposite him with a fond teasing smile, and oh god the hole where his heart used to be aches to reach out and touch her--

But for all her perfections, Casey’s eyes had never glowed quite like that had they? Never stared directly into his soul, made him almost want to bury into her arms and let her shoulder his every burden for him. Her kindness had inspired, but never been so bottomless that he wanted to abuse it, had never come off her in waves to the point it was visible in every little line of her face despite any grandstanding. Never so gentle to the broken that he could almost convince himself that he doesn’t need to run, that if he’s seen he’ll be accepted wholly, flaws and sins and all.

Not like Yuri. Not at all like Yuri.

The curtain drops, or else the clouds must roll in overhead. Either way, the moonlight vanishes, and with it goes the last vestiges of the illusion.

“Aye-aye, sir.” he all but murmurs, his voice tighter than just moments ago. He hopes, as Yuri’s face twists in concern, that his own face doesn’t give away the turmoil of his heart.

“You alright, old man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Hah, maybe I have!” he laughs, but it sounds notably hollow even to him. Still, he doesn’t break eye-contact as Yuri seems to peer directly into him, seemingly scanning his every thought and feeling, hope and dream.

The last thing he sees as he slips into sleep is the gentle embrace of the abyss. While his dreams are plagued by nightmares, a broken body bleeding out in the sand, he finds it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in years.

-------------⇸

The town is silent, other than the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the trees and the crunch of the dirt path beneath his feet.

They’ve been here all day, but Yuri’s not sure he’s used to how incredibly peaceful Yormgen is yet. He’s not sure he ever will be, either. He’s used to the bustle of the city, the shouting of vendors and newsies in Zaphias’s main market as carts laden with goods and people roll by. It feels like there’s always a dog barking, a clock chiming, a baby crying in the city, and the background noise helps him to switch his brain off in a way that the country never can.

Halure had been quiet to him - the calm atmosphere of the day, the slowness of shop transactions and conversation, had already been a lot, but for there to be a perfect stillness as night fell rather than an increase in bustle as drinkers started to take to the town had been the real whiplash. Despite a relatively large population, the town didn’t have a single dedicated bar to its name, and it’d thrown Yuri for far more of a loop than he’d ever expected.

Yormgen is even stranger. There must be all of fourteen people in this entire town, he thinks, and every single one of them vanished into their houses the moment the sun started to set. The only conversation he's heard that he hasn’t been directly involved in since Duke showed up and smashed their apatheia (he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still annoyed about that) is that of his own travelling companions bickering over what to make for dinner with their limited ingredients as he stepped away to find their mysterious disappearing old man.

Raven took the loss of the crystal hard. Or at least, Yuri thinks he did. He certainly vanished quickly when they decided to wait around while Rita took some time to investigate. He’d been right next to him one second and then gone the next, before they’d had a chance to agree to meet back up for dinner at sundown. With no one having seen him all day since to let him know, it’d fallen on his shoulders to hunt him down and drag him back. Raven might’ve been plenty energetic on their first trip through the desert, but they all know better than to let him make the return journey on an empty stomach. The man eats like a bird at the best of times - he really can’t afford to be doing that now.

He’d grumbled and whined about it being him who had to go find him, but in all honesty he’s kind of pleased. He’s found himself surprisingly worried about the old man - this is the first time since they’ve started officially travelling together that he’s pulled a disappearing act. Normally it’s hard to get him to shut up for more than 20 minutes at a time, so the better part of a day without seeing or hearing from him at all is completely unheard of. If his silence doesn’t mean he’s curled up and died somewhere, then Yuri knows that he’s the only one of their party who stands any chance of fetching him with both of them left unscathed.

He’s explored the residential side of the town (if it can truly be called that) extensively already throughout the day. Not that it was hard to do - other than the homes of locals that are a bit further out, the town proper is essentially three big buildings and a deck. He’d quickly concluded that there were very few places to hide a man with a proclivity for such a bright shade of purple amongst the muted timber and the gentle green of the grass. The only conclusion he can come to is that Raven must’ve headed to the other side of town, to the sea of flowers that makes his sinuses itch just looking in their direction.

For all he knows they’ll give him a headache, the flowers are incredibly pretty. It had been the bushes of pink and blue trumpets that had caught his attention in the midday, as Estelle had run over to them in delight and plucked a few. She’d fashioned a few little fascinators, of sorts (a skill she’d learned in the finishing school she had no doubt been forced to attend as the potential future Empress), and spent the better part of an hour lacing them into everyone’s hair. If he looks back over his shoulder, he knows he’ll see Judith wearing the pink blossoms - rhododendron, Estelle had called them - with pride, while Karol nervously fidgets with his own, worried they’ll fall out, ruining the princess’s hard work.

Now, however, in the amber light of the sunset, it’s the flower tunnel that draws his eye. Not that he hadn’t noticed it before - it’s impossible to miss, vibrant as it is. But he’s never been the biggest fan of yellow, always a little bright for his tastes. The way the light bounces off the thousands of little flowers is certainly eye-catching though, setting them in such a way that their radiance is somehow easier on the eye. They’re impossible to look away from as he draws closer, some emotion he’s unused to, couldn’t possibly name, stirring in his chest. The chains dance gently in the breeze, bouncing against each other like a bead curtain, and something about it makes him nostalgic for the familiarity of the Lower Quarter.

Then he spots him, further in, beneath the boughs. His hand rests comfortably on the handle of the knife he keeps at his waist, the other left to the mercy of the breeze as he stares up amidst the blossoms. They bathe him in their glow, mingling with the dying rays of the sun, casting him almost golden . He’s mesmerised by the sight himself, it seems, completely off-guard for the first time in the couple of months Yuri’s known him - for all he plays the fool, Yuri would be an even bigger one not to realise how keenly Raven follows the every movement of all those around him.

But right now, he seems… defenceless. Open. Fragile. Unaware that a world aside from him and the sea of flowers even exists. He could do whatever he wanted to Raven in this moment, he thinks, and he just knows the man would be equally surprised by anything. Something about that knowledge, this vision makes his chest feel light, almost airy.

The image sears itself into his mind, unbidden, and he knows instantly. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never erase it.

“Laburnum.”

He startles as Raven speaks. Perhaps he hadn’t been as unaware as he’d thought.

“Huh?” he grunts dumbly.

“These flowers. They call ‘em Laburnum. Or golden rain in some parts.” he says, flicking his eyes (almost the vibrant green of dense aer with the glow) over to acknowledge Yuri. He goes quickly back to gazing upwards, almost reverent. “Pretty apt.”

Yuri finds himself eyeing the flowers again as he moves closer. They’re strangely shaped, the blooms, unlike any he’s seen before. The petals curl back and in on themselves, clustered closely together in a way that hides the little shock of red in their centres. Stranger still are the buds, gently curved in a way that reminds him of the plantains he’d seen in Dahngrest’s market.

From the right angle, they could almost look like birds in flight, or indeed a sudden burst of rainfall.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Raven’s lips quirk into a smile. His eyebrows set into something pensive, wistful even.

“They’re pretty rare these days. Didn’t think I’d ever get to see a single tree with my own eyes, never mind a whole grove…”

The melancholy that’s settled over him like a veil is impossible to ignore, his voice distant as though transported to another time. There’s a pressure at the base of Yuri’s throat as he watches him, finds himself wanting to do… something. He’s not sure what. Just anything to pull him from his reverie. But of course, in the end all he really knows is sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as the type to know about flowers.”

It seems to work somewhat. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised - he and Raven have always been strangely in sync.

“Wouldn’t be much good with the ladies if I didn’t know about little things like flowers, now would I?” he says, finally turning to face Yuri more fully. His eyes soften with mischief, and yet still seem tight with… well if Yuri had to put a name to it, he’d wager it was grief .

A half-joke then; his flower knowledge almost certainly learned on behalf of one lady, though he’d wager not women generally at all. After all, for all he seemed to enjoy playing the womaniser, his actions often seemed chosen to purposefully push them away if anything.

Yuri rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. Raven smiles. It gets closer to meeting his eyes than he expected it to.

“I can’t imagine just throwing their names around is especially impressive. Seems more like the absolute bare minimum.” he says, hand coming to rest on a cocked hip. Raven’s smile widens, coaxed out of his shell somewhat by the familiar teasing routine.

“Ah, but whoever said I only knew their names?”

His eyebrows raise instinctively. To know flowers’ names is one thing, but any other details aren’t usually common knowledge; their language, how to arrange them, the best methodology for their care all usually things known solely by the upper echelons of society, or else those with enough money in their back pockets to take a chance on starting a related career.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off, fixing Raven with a sceptical look. The old man’s face splits into a wide grin, hand coming up to flash a peace sign. Dork, his thinks impulsively as he huffs a laugh, surprised at the fond tone the word takes in his mind. Then quick as the cheer arrives it drops again, leaving the previous melancholic half-smile splayed across Raven’s face.

“These wouldn’t be much good in a bouquet though, pretty as they are. If bein’ deadly poisonous wasn’t enough, they’re usually used as a symbol of the forsaken. ” he muses, the last word spat like something dirty from his mouth.

“Who the hell would look at these and decide that? ” Yuri barks out. His expression must look as bewildered as he feels - Raven laughs at him, gentle but genuine.

“Yeah, it seems like a lot, right?” he says. His gaze drifts away from Yuri’s, losing focus and staring past him, through his shoulder. “She always liked them though, in spite of that.”

“...She?” he asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to sound eager, too nosey. Doesn’t want to push when the old man is this fragile. But he can’t help his curiosity - this is the first he’s mentioned of his past, the first clue to piecing together the admittedly fascinating mystery that is Raven. The man himself seems to realise it too, that with just one sentence he’s revealed a huge part of himself he hasn’t previously. Graciously, he doesn’t scramble to hide it away as Yuri might’ve expected.

“Ah. Old friend.” he says softly, as though divulging a secret. “She’s… gone now. But she was always a big fan of flowers. These weren’t her favourite but. She liked ‘em plenty.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Not like you to spill your past out in the open like this, old man.”

It takes all of his mental strength not to kick himself as Raven’s expression shutters, the nostalgia, longing , vanishing from his face in favour of something more carefully guarded. His eyes though, expressive as they are, can’t hide the pain.

“Ah. I suppose they got me feelin’ a little nostalgic. Forgive me.”

The silence stretches out between them for miles and miles as he watches Raven, Raven in turn watching the dancing laburnum above his head. His eyes flicker from bloom to bloom, as though cataloguing each one carefully, trying to commit their shape, their profile to memory. Yuri finds his eyes drawn to his lips as they purse, a gentle pout taut in a manner that gives away the nervous chewing of the inside of his mouth. His thick eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he blinks, and Yuri hates the silence of the country, because it’s weird sappy shit like this that the bustle of the city helps him to avoid thinking about.

Raven’s a lot like these flowers , is the thought that springs to his mind, unprompted. And it’s ridiculous really. Completely nonsensical. The kind of thing Karol might come out with on a night where he’s overtired, that they’d all tease him for mercilessly until they pass out. But there’s nothing to distract him from it - he’s surrounded by the evidence, and the more he tries to ignore it the more sense it seems to make to him. The two parts of his brain war with each other, unrelenting, and he can feel the push and pull starting to show on his face.

Then a single blossom falls from the canopy above. It lands perfectly atop Raven’s bangs, perched there like a peepit in a tree, and he can’t fight the analogy anymore - Raven certainly looks forsaken, in that instant, the pain swimming in his eyes. And yet usually so bright and cheery, like the flower’s vibrant colouring, almost desperate for attention as he jokes around-- and then pushing people away, like a poison, when they try to get close. An exterior crafted to make you underestimate him, and yet a hidden strength, swift and deadly on the battlefield. A sunny disposition that washes over you like a summer rain, calming and refreshing.

He’s not sure anymore if the golden glow bouncing off Raven’s skin is from the flowers, or just simply the man himself.

A light breeze jostles the flower, and it slips from his hair. The strange shape hooks itself onto the crook of his nose and it wedges firmly, even as the wind picks up, cascading more petals down onto them both. Raven either ignores it, or doesn’t notice, his eyes falling closed as he lets nature wash over him.

He steps closer carefully, unthinkingly. He feels as a moth to a flame, though why he couldn’t say. He’s unfamiliar with the stirring in his chest that rises at the sight, doesn’t understand his compulsion to reach out, to touch Raven. To check he’s still solid and there, that he hasn’t been blown away on the currents of the wind like his namesake.

His hand reaches out, plucking the flower from Raven’s face gently. The old man startles instantly, eyes snapping open and meeting Yuri’s as he flicks the blossom to the floor. Raven’s eyes scan over him, looking for answers that he’s not sure he’ll find. Yuri certainly wouldn’t be able to explain if he were to ask. He simply looks between the sunken blue-green, carefully smoothing more fallen petals from Raven’s shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice practically a whisper beneath the howling of the breeze, far gentler than he’d expected it to be, “I think I understand why your friend liked them.”

Raven’s eyebrow cocks, ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he answers, lips quirking into a small smile, something genuine and raw and delicate that he doesn’t recall gracing his face before. “They’ve got a certain charm, I suppose.”

Raven’s breath hitches - he doesn’t hear it, only sees the narrowing of his nostrils, the bobbing of his Adam's apple. His eyes are so round, as the melancholy starts to subside slowly, leaving something inquisitive in his wake. It’s an expression he’s sure he’s seen on Repede before when he was younger, still training, still struggling with learning to sit on command, and it feels strange to compare Raven to a puppy, but it certainly isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to him in the last 24 hours.

It feels like hours before Raven breaks his eyes away, anything raw and gentle immediately traded for bluster and jokes as he ducks his head.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ out with me amidst the flowers anyway?” he asks, voice a little hoarse as his teasing lilt starts to creep back to him. “The others will start to talk if we keep havin’ these secret rendezvous, young man! How scandalous!”

He slaps his hand to his chest, feinting horror at their make-believe tryst. Yuri snorts, socking him lightly in the arm. Ridiculous as his jokes are, he can’t help but be pleased to see him return to some semblance of normalcy.

“I came to get you for dinner, dumbass. After that, you can feel free to go on ahead to Nordopolica.” he says, turning back around to lead the way to the others with a nod of his head.

Raven snickers at his own antics, hurrying to follow after him as he pulls a hurt expression.

“What, you wanna get rid of me so soon?”

“Wrong.” he snorts, head turned pointedly away in an effort to ignore his self-deprecating jokes. “I just wouldn't want you to miss the new moon and your chance to deliver the letter all on our account.”

The beat of silence that follows is just a touch too long for their usual banter. He turns back to Raven, worried momentarily that he’s run off again and he’ll be on a wild goose chase for the rest of the night, only to find him following attentively behind him. He’s looking at Yuri, expression… totally indecipherable to him for once, actually. It’s a rare occasion for him to have no idea what the old man is thinking.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow quirking. Raven simply smiles, wide and catlike.

“Oh, nothin’ important~” he sing-songs, taking over the lead in the moment Yuri pauses. “Honestly, I could do fine without your concern.”

Yuri scowls.

“Wrong again.” he says, moving to keep pace, their back-and-forth continuing until they arrive back at the inn, and the campfire their party has set up.

(He never does figure out what Raven’s expression had meant on that day, but when he finds the small laburnum branch tangled in his hair alongside the rhododendron the next morning, he quietly stows it away in the bottom of Karol’s bag, heart fluttering strangely in his chest)

-------------⇸

The speed at which Mantaic’s locals manage to throw the party together is honestly quite astounding.

The stalls of the inn concourse have cleared their tables of their wares, already starting to accumulate piles of local cuisine - barely an hour since the news of the Flynn Brigade’s arrival started to spread throughout the town, whispers abandoned in favour of joyous cries despite the extreme early hour, and already there’s a feast to rival one for a noble. People of all ages are wide awake and gleeful, even very young children who don’t fully understand what’s happening squealing with joy at seeing their parents’ and older siblings’ excitement.

The princess tries to help where she can (as always) - shakily carrying huge steaming pots to their directed positions, assisting in dragging tables out of homes to line the streets. Were Flynn not so busy tying up loose ends with the stragglers of the Cumore Brigade, Judith’s sure he’d be dancing around her like a mother hen. Instead, Karol and Rita have become his stand-ins, getting roped into helping themselves albeit minus Estelle’s unshakeable enthusiasm.

She’s glad everything turned out okay in the end. It had been with great unease that they’d all drifted off to sleep the night before, distressed at their powerlessness, their lack of time. Battling with the princess’s impulsivity had been hard, especially in the presence of her big round eyes and quivering lips, but a necessary evil. There really wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Judith remains firm in her belief - it would be impossible to rehabilitate a man like Cumore in jail. Even with the combined influence of Flynn and Estelle, the strength of their idealism and naïveté, a man as corrupt as he would never conform to concepts like morals and ethics. He would only change in death.

The man’s fall from grace, while certainly better than allowing him to run amok, does little to satisfy her in all honesty. The townspeople, however, just seem glad to be free of his clutches, regardless of the flaws in the Empire’s justice system. She can’t blame them really - she’s sure she’d feel the same in their shoes, the ever-lingering threat of death by dehydration or being eaten alive finally lifted from their shoulders.

She’s glad for the lifting of the tense air that had settled over their travelling party the night before. That there’s a smile on Estelle’s face again is good too. For the sake of the guild, nothing more , she scolds herself mentally, quashing the leap in her chest as the baby blues smile in her direction.

She finds herself counted as one of the old souls on this occasion; the small group who are extremely pleased for the turn of events and the freedom of the people, but are either too tired or consider themselves too uninvested to actually lend a hand. Raven is a regular to this group, fucked as his sleeping pattern is, and it doesn't surprise her as much as she thought it would that Patty too sits among them.

Yuri sitting back, however, is new.

Something is off with him. Something has been off with him since… well, certainly since their discovery of Cumore's little scheme. He’s never been the most talkative of their group, a man of relatively few words until it comes to snide jibes and teasing, or else rallying speeches to raise morale or call outs for something he perceives to be an injustice.

(She’d say he was self-righteous - but then, by that same line of thinking, isn’t she also?)

His usual quietude has never felt like this though - dense and oppressive like thunderclouds, holding a tension that, if referred to, threatens to strike like lightning, harsh and quick and painful. It’s possible he’d just slept badly, but she doubts it. She and Yuri are painfully alike at the best of times and in this, it seems, they continue to be.

Yes, for Yuri, the biggest champion of justice among them, to still be so tense, so incredibly on edge… It’s extremely telling.

The only one who seems to have noticed Yuri’s torment other than her (and his faithful pooch) is, of course, Raven. It’s no surprise - he’s always kept a close eye on Yuri, in the time she’s known them. She’d heard tell that the Don had taken an interest in Yuri when he’d met him, in a way usually foreign to him in regards to newcomers. Normally it would be years - years of hard work, of craft and contributions in the name of the guilds, for the man to so much as glance in your direction, let alone learn your name (understandably so for so busy and powerful a man). Yet Yuri had waltzed in and garnered his full attention in the space of a few hours, at best.

That Raven has clearly been instructed to stake him out, in addition to his apatheia hunt, feels natural. Less so is a good chunk of what he actually seems to be observing about Yuri - she’s sure the Don would much rather see a report on his fighting capabilities, his disposition, the flexibility of his morality in a pinch, than whatever he’s gleaning by staring at his back when he takes his shirt off, or watching the flow of his hair in the desert breeze.

(That is, however, a report she would quite like to read, if for nothing more than watching the burn of Raven’s ears at the request)

This morning, however, the eye he keeps on him is careful. Though the ever-present catlike smirk that plays over his lips remains, there’s something considering to his gaze - a scheme in the works but not those of his usual calibre. Nothing designed to rile Rita, fluster Estelle or make the kids laugh (though she’s sure if he can tie his usual goals into whatever he’s concocting then he certainly won’t shy away at the chance).

If she had to guess at his intentions, she’d have thought--

The blaring of a horn throws her suddenly from her train of thought - the celebrations are brought instantly into full swing by a makeshift band of passing guildsmen throwing their own contributions into the mix. Judith doesn’t consider herself a big listener of music, in all honesty, but she’d be hard pressed not to recognise the juxtaposed staccatos and legatos characteristic of Dahngrestian swing - while lesser known within Empire towns like this one, the style is famous the world over.

She hasn’t had many opportunities to join in with the festivities the guilds are known for throwing, where dancers step and twirl faster than the barkeeps can pour drinks (and really, isn’t that an impressive thought, considering the drinking culture in Dahngrest?) She’s bore witness to their local dancing customs only once or twice, and never within the heart of the city itself, and she knows with certainty that while her footwork on the battlefield might be immaculate, she has two left feet for dancing - would certainly never dare to attempt swing. She has great sympathy for the townsfolk who, while enraptured by the melody, feet tapping along jovially, seem as though they don’t know quite what to do with it.

Altosk’s second, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He barks a delighted laugh that startles Patty, almost jostling her from the table she’s perched upon, and finally momentarily draws Yuri from his reverie. She watches, amused, as he throws Yuri’s grumpy, inquisitive look a wink before springing to his feet.

“Hey, kid!” he calls, flagging Karol down as he heads to the middle of the concourse. Their illustrious guild master looks up from the mabo curry bun he’s attempting to swallow whole, wide-eyed. Raven grins, crooked and gummy in a way she’s come to associate with his mischief.

“Why don’t we show these lovely folks how it’s done, as thanks for their hospitality?”

Karol is practically vibrating at the concept. In a flash he’s pulling off his gloves and whipping his bag over his head, dumping the pile in Rita’s lap (eliciting, of course, an incredibly over the top yelp of annoyance). He scarfs down the remnants of the bun as he hops over the table he’s sat at, scampering over to Raven in a manner that does nothing to hide his enthusiasm.

“You better not stand all over my feet, Raven!” he calls as he draws closer, face pulling into a pout that doesn’t quite ring true. The noise Raven makes in response is rather like that of a strangled cat.

“The nerve o’ kids these days!” he bemoans, pinching his sinuses with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know yours truly is the pride of Altosk! Ya won’t find a better dancer in all o’ Dahngrest, not even the Don himself!”

“Uhu, suuuure. ” Karol drawls, disbelieving, as he comes to a stop by his side.

It’s as he does that Raven ducks his head close to the boy, hand a shield to cover whatever he says. His words are inaudible, but if Karol’s terrible attempts at hiding his furtive glances in Yuri’s direction are anything to go by, Judith would have to guess it’s something about whatever Raven’s scheming for Brave Vesperia’s second.

The band seems to catch wind of their plans, slowing the jaunty tune down to allow the two to begin. Karol dusts his hands off on his trousers bashfully, ridding himself of any remnants of curry, before taking Raven’s hand in his. Their movements start off slow and creeping, almost unnatural to watch, but it quickly becomes apparent to her that they’re motions meant to teach rather than for actual dancing - an enunciated display of footwork for the surrounding beginners as they take their time to get a feel for each other as dance partners.

And then, Raven taking Karol’s waist, they begin in earnest. Movements still slow, but now fluid as water, they begin to turn around one another in the style she vaguely recognises, and while she knows nothing about dancing, it’s clear that they’re extremely good. They match each other's timing perfectly, not a step out of place, and she could believe they were gliding if not for the dust their footsteps kick up.

Karol is good, of course, especially for a kid of his age (she wonders idly if he might’ve had a brief foray in a dancing guild, prior to joining the Hunting Blades), but Raven is really something else. She’s never seen a man able to move his hips in such a way, sashaying in a way that’s frankly a little hypnotising - if she thought he were truly interested in her, then this’d definitely be enough to make her begin to consider his earlier flirtations more seriously. It’s frankly criminal, she thinks, that his trousers and jacket do so much to obscure his ass.

As they become more comfortable, they begin to ramp it up a little - they take it in turns to twirl one another, alternating between wide sweeping arcs, Raven displaying his extreme flexibility to twist beneath Karol’s arm, to fast tight twirls that almost remind her of Rita’s casting motions. For these, Karol spins so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t completely lose balance and land face first in the dirt. Instead he simply laughs jovially, really getting into the spirit of it and losing himself to the music. Raven’s responding smile is fond, like a father watching their kid, and she could almost believe they’ve both forgotten about their ulterior motives, if not for how Raven keeps glancing in their direction every other time he’s facing their way.

It’s as Estelle drags Rita out to join them, accompanied by a group of the locals, that Judy feels something ugly snare her heart and promptly takes the opportunity to cast a considering glance instead to Patty and Yuri. The smaller is bouncing where she sits, gleefully watching the dancers - she seems antsy to join in, if only she could find a spare partner who wouldn’t accidentally crush her.

Yuri surprises her - while he might not be completely out of his funk, he’s watching more attentively than she previously expected. She gazes at him curiously for a while as he leans his head on his hand, watching the Dahngrestian pair’s increasing frenzy. Karol’s giggles are near constant, and Raven’s been infected by his happiness, laughing obnoxiously himself. The creases of Yuri’s eyes tighten, even as the rest of his face fails to emote, as his eyes seem to lock on Raven’s face and stay there. She smiles.

“Ahem.” she coughs, sharp and decidedly fake. Yuri and Patty both are startled away from the party, turning to her. She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the former, coy smirk rising to her lips. His eyes widen in response, as Patty turns confusedly to look at him, before he flusters, turning away from the party entirely. She laughs.

It’s at that moment that Karol comes spinning towards them, hand freed from Raven’s grasp at last. His smile is blinding, and he’s struggling to catch his breath, but he still seems to be full of energy as Raven follows behind him.

“Patty, you probably know a bit of swing, right?” he asks her, real question thinly veiled by his proffered hand.

She’s a clever lass, though. “Hah! Of course I do, matey!” she declares, grabbing it firmly and pulling him back out into the street.

Raven watches them go fondly, before turning to her. With a flourish, he bows to her, graceful as a knight but with none of the prim and proper charm.

“Judy, my darlin’, could I convince ya to honour ol’ Raven with a dance?”

His eyes never leave hers as he asks, gaze sharp and lacking all pretense of genuine flirting.

Ah, so that’s his game is it?

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!” she declares exaggeratedly, hand to her chest. “Not when Yuri so clearly wants to instead!”

The effect is instant. She barely has time to note the twitch of Yuri’s ears at the sound of his name before his head whips around to look at them.

“Hu- what?”

Raven springs back upright, throwing his hand up to clutch at his own chest.

“Yuri, darlin’, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was say so! No need to make Judy do all yer dirty work for ya!”

He closes the gap between them in a matter of steps, as Yuri’s face grows more panicked by the second.

“Wh-- no, what?! Judy, no, I can’t dance , JU--!!”

She smiles as Raven takes him by the hand and tugs him away. Yuri’s expression reminds her of a bunwigle, caught unaware in the middle of the night, backed into a corner with no escape. It’s incredibly endearing, and certainly a nice change from the faux-apathy he’s been stewing in.

As they move away she watches as Raven’s expression transforms from mischievous to something more careful, considerate. He doesn’t guide Yuri to the middle of the crowd as she’d expected, where their friends spin with reckless abandon, but instead to a quieter area of the dancing space. Yuri seems just as confused as she feels, more than likely expecting Raven to have humiliated him with his lack of skill. They’re far enough away that whatever the older man says to reassure him is lost to her, but he smiles and takes Yuri’s hands gently.

Her heart swells at the careful way Raven teaches him, easily pulls him out of his darker thoughts and concentrates his mind on something else. Yuri doesn’t strike her as the sort to let himself be taken care of, but she doubts he even realises that’s what’s happening - probably sees it instead as some sort of challenge. It’s nice. She might not have known him long, but she feels close to him in a way she hasn’t felt with another person for… a good ten years, she’d wager. She’d forgotten what it felt like, to see good things happen to someone you care about.

He trips over Raven’s feet often, but Raven doesn’t let him get self-conscious about it - instead exaggeratedly pretending to trip himself in a way that allows Yuri to chip in and tease him. When there’s one failed attempt too many and Yuri attempts to break away, he simply pulls him back in, closer, and looks him in the eyes.

(She feels a little bad for still watching, personal and intimate as the moment is becoming, but it’s hard to find anything else interesting at this point)

“What is it I always say when I’m fightin’, Yuri?” she can just about hear the old man say over the wail of the trombone.

Yuri’s tone is monotonous, even as his face starts to rise into an affectionate smirk.

“‘Ooo, eee, ow, my back hurts?’” he says, quirked eyebrow a dead giveaway for his bullying. He receives a light slap to his arm for his trouble that leaves him laughing openly in a way she… hasn’t actually seen from him in the time she’s known him.

Huh.

“That it’s just like dancin’, ya dolt!” he says. He laces their fingers carefully before starting to move once more through the basic steps. “You’ll see what I mean before long.”

After a few more failed attempts, Yuri finally starts to figure it out. He still steps on Raven’s toes more often than not, but it’s to be expected for a newbie in the face of a dance as rapid as swing - she’s quite impressed at how fast he’s picked it up in all honesty. He’s already doing a damned sight better than Rita, whose motions are still awkward and stiff as she’s twirled by Estelle (though she looks to be having the time of her life, in spite of it).

They look very sweet together, in all honesty. It’s the most she’s seen either of them relax in front of other people - Yuri’s snark is quickly abandoned as he starts to really get into the swing of it, and most of Raven’s jokes and teasing go along with it. They’re just a couple of normal guys in their own little world, dancing together beneath the rising sun, looking genuinely happy for once. Watching them laughing together, she finds her own spirits raised too, even as she continues to sit to one side like a wallflower.

And she’s glad she did. If she hadn’t, she’d have missed out on this potentially one-time-only sight of Yuri’s carefree smile. Would’ve never seen the sudden change in Yuri’s demeanor as he looks up at Raven mid-spin, eyes widening, before his expression becomes suddenly raw.

He’s not watching his feet at all any more - he’s just going with the flow, and reading Raven’s movements and they’re incredibly in sync to say Yuri has all of 10 minutes of experience. It’s strange to think it, but he seems to be having fun , doing something other than fighting, even despite his mess ups. Yuri’s uncharacteristically crooked smile, as his eyes never leave Raven’s, is blindingly beautiful, and piques her curiosity.

Before today, when she’d seen the admiring glances the Raven had sent his way, she’d have thought he was barking up the completely wrong tree. Now though (although she doubts Yuri’s realised the way he’s starting to look at the old man) she’s really not so sure.

Then the moment is gone.

Behind her, she hears him. Flynn, barking orders to his brigade, accompanied by the protests of the now-bound followers of Cumore. And in that exact instant, Yuri stops stock-still. Raven goes crashing into him, frantically apologising and trying to check he’s okay, but it’s as though he isn’t there. Yuri just stares past her to Flynn, eyes wide and unseeing but… terrified , if she had to take a guess.

She can hear Raven call to him as he slips his hands free from his grip, and he looks up glancingly. He mutters something, what she can only imagine is some excuse, or a few words of apology, before he’s stalking off towards the inn and shutting the door behind him briskly.

Raven, standing alone and off to one side, looks very small in that instant. Like he doesn’t know quite where he went wrong, what he could’ve possibly done differently.

Perhaps, just this once, she can take pity on him. After all, if there’s anyone who can fix her left feet…

Standing and smoothing down her skirts, she heads over to him, taking his hand, and he startles. His big blue eyes look up at her, puppy-like, and it’s like Estelle the night before all over again. She sighs, already regretting her question before she asks.

“Is the offer still open?”

He smiles. Solemn. But it’s a start.

me, age 12: haha yeah raven blatantly has a thing for yuri and i love them together, but i guess there isn't much to imply yuri likes him back huh me, age 24, seeing the 'Happy Birthday' skit for the first time and learning the Very Specific Age Gap between Yuri and his first ever crush: a

ftr no one in the vesperia party is cishet no i will not take questions

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bokutos-eyebrows · 4 years

Text

Reactions Pt. 1

Poly TsukkiYama x Reader fic is here ~ For all of us who want to be a throuple with this salty sweet duo. More notes at the end!

Poly Tsukkishima Kei x Fem! Reader x Yamaguchi Tadashi

Word Count: 1,817

Warnings: None yet, but there will be smut eventually

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀ “Kei, I know about your feelings for Tadashi.”

Tsukishima stiffened at your words. He was too taken aback to hide his shock.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tsukishima stated blankly, avoiding looking at you. You chuckled slightly, putting a hand on Tsukki’s back.

“Your reaction just told me everything I need to know.”

Tsukishima did love you. And you knew that. But you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the fact that he and Yamaguchi had a long history together.

The three of you had met while working at the history museum in your city. Tsukki and Yams had already been working at the museum since high school giving tours of the different exhibits. You worked the check in desk for the tour groups, organizing who took which groups out, and planning out tour schedules. Yamaguchi being the sweetheart he is, was always eager to help you out and show you the ropes of the job, dragging the reluctant Tsukishima with him.

Tsukki had an obvious soft spot for Yamaguchi. He would go along with whatever Tadashi said, or seek him out for a comforting hug after a long shift. The two boys just seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking. Yamaguchi always stayed by Tsukki’s side as well, going to him out throughout the day to chat, and bringing him snacks. They always seemed to be on their own, separate from everyone else. You had always noticed a tension between them, but you could never quite put your finger on the cause of it.

As time passed, the three of you became close friends, even hanging out on your days off. You became an addition to their little group, always separated from others. It was like you were all in your own little bubble. Before long you grew to have a deep love for both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. You thought for sure it was platonic, despite the occasional flirting.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch on to the lingering glances and touches Tsukishima and Yamaguchi shared. You weren’t blind. Sometimes you joked about how the two of them were dating. You were a little jealous of how close they were, not quite sure of which boy you were jealous of. But all thoughts of what could be going on between them were put on pause when Tsukishima asked you out on a date.

Yamaguchi was supportive, seeing as Kei had never really taken interest in someone before. Tsukki grew to like you quickly because like Yams, you could handle his banter and had jokes of your own. You and Tsukki clicked well, the transition from friends to lovers was almost seamless.

The three of you still went out often. You loved being around the two boys, and it never felt like anyone was a third wheel. More often than not, your dates with Kei included Tadashi. It just worked when all of you were together. You had fun alone with Tsukki too, nothing ever felt forced, but there was a pestering feeling that something was missing. You could tell that Tsukki felt it too. The two of you were in love, so why?

Then it hit you.

You were on a coffee run with Yamaguchi, wanting to surprise Kei who was already at work. The two of you had reached out to grab the third drink, your hands collided, fingers slightly intertwining. As you pulled away you noticed a blush creep onto Tadashi’s cheeks. Your heart was racing. You loved Kei, why were you feeling like this?

The two of you spent the walk to work in an awkward silence, neither wanting to address it. When you arrived, Tadashi called out to Kei. As the tall blonde turned around, you could practically see his heart swell when he looked at the two of you. He tried to hide it but you know him.

Was he smiling at me? Or Yams? Both of us? Why did Tadashi blush when our hands touched? Why did my heart beat so fast? You pondered.

If you were being completely honest, you had definitely fantasized about a threesome with them before. Who wouldn’t? The three of you had great chemistry. But this was a feeling beyond the simple pleasures of sex.

You glanced over at Kei and Tadashi, watching their facial expressions as they chatted. Thankfully, neither boy had noticed you had zoned out for the last couple minutes. You studied the two boys' interactions. Did they always stand this close together? Were their smiles always this warm when they looked at each other? Suddenly hyper aware of every small interaction between the boys, you snapped back to reality when they both turned to you and asked you something about the conversation you had not been listening to.

“U-Uh yeah!” You tried to act like you’d been paying attention. Tsukki shot you a look, immediately picking up on your hesitation. You pretended not to notice.

“Aah well it's time for me to go get ready to start the museum tours! I’ll see you guys later!” Yamaguchi pulled you and Tsukki in for a group hug and then ran off to get ready for the work day.

“It’s almost opening time I should go to the check in desk I nee-”

“Y/n.” Tsukki cut you off.

“Yes?”

Tsukishima grabbed your arm and gave you a knowing look. “You’re spacey today. Is something wrong?”

“No! I’m just a little tired!” You are touched that Tsukki knows you so well he can pick up on your moods, but also caught off guard that he was so direct about it.

“Okay.Sure.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “We’ll talk about it later when we get home.” He kissed your forehead and followed Yamaguchi.

Shit, he caught on. You wondered if you should bring up the weird tension you’ve been feeling. How would Kei react? How do I feel about Yams? How long has this been going on? You decide nothing good will come of spending the whole day pondering. You just have to face Tsukki when you get home and put an end to the questions that cloud your mind.

The work day flows normally. You check in the different elementary school classes that are coming in to take tours, get the kids excited to learn and then pass them off to Yamaguchi, Tsukki, or one of your other tour guides. Tsukishima takes a tour right before your lunch break starts and you’re partly sad you’ll be spending lunch alone, but also relieved you won’t be interrogated about your feelings yet.

“Y/n! I brought your favorite!” You look up and see Tadashi placing a pastry and drink on your desk. “Let's go eat outside!”

Your mind is racing as you find yourself sitting under a large jacaranda tree with Yams as your lunch companion. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, Tsukki couldn’t always take lunch breaks at the same time as you and you and Yamaguchi had been pals since you started working at the museum. But this time felt different. You couldn’t tell if Yamaguchi could feel the shift that started this morning in the coffee shop so you decided to prod him.

“Thank you again for bringing me lunch from the bakery Tadashi,” You smiled and placed a hand on his arm, “I really appreciate you! And I’m glad we could eat together! You leaned on him slightly, as a friendly gesture. As you looked up at him, you could see the faintest pink on his cheeks.

“I-It’s no problem! You seemed sad earlier and I thought you could use a nice surprise!” Yamaguchi stammered, fiddling with his hair.

Fuck, you mentally panicked, was he always this cute? You gazed over his freckles that were hiding under the rosy tint of his cheeks. Yamaguchi had always supported you and made sure you were having a good day at work. He had been there for you since you met, he had even introduced you to Tsukki, the man you adored. Your heart started pounding as you thought back on just how much Yamaguchi meant to you.

You loved Tsukishima wholeheartedly. Nothing about that had changed. He was someone you considered a soul mate. But, now you realized the missing link in your relationship was Yamaguchi. You loved him too. You had loved him from the start, never realizing it was more than platonic admiration. And now you had a hunch that he felt the same.

“Hey, the museum is closed tomorrow, did you have any plans for the day?” You asked with newfound boldness.

“Oh! No I’m free tomorrow.” Yamaguchi’s face lit up.

“Come over tomorrow then, okay?” Tadashi nodded and the two of you walked back to the museum to continue work for the day, making plans for tomorrow.

Tsukishima watched you and his best friend from a window on the second floor. He was annoyed. Not with you, and not with Yams either. Just annoyed. His chest tightened as he watched you both chat so happily. Was he jealous that you were with Yamaguchi? Or jealous that Yamaguchi was with you? Maybe both. He couldn’t tell. Not to mention you’d been acting weird this morning. He clenched his fists and prayed the rest of the shift would go by quickly.

The walk home with Tsukki was grueling. Neither of you were ready to talk about the lingering issue at hand. Tsukishima lightened the mood by telling you about the chaotic tour group he had, and how multiple children tried to climb up on the displays. You laughed as you imagined your usually composed boyfriend frantically trying to wrangle up rowdy kids.

“I’d say don’t laugh at me, y/n” Tsukki grabbed your hand, “But I love the sound of your laugh.” He muttered as if he didn’t want you to hear.

“And I love you!” You interlocked your fingers in his. This put him at ease and he hummed happily. Once you made it to your apartment, Tsukki went to take a shower as you cleaned up a bit, wondering when to bring up Yamaguchi. You planned and plotted how to talk to Tsukki, trying to hype yourself up.

“Hey, I’m thinking of making curry, is that good with you?” Tsukki called from the kitchen. You were sweating bullets, nervous, but ready to just get this over with. It had been on your mind all day, you had a lump in your throat as you headed to the kitchen.

“Hey..” you started. Tsukki looked up at you, sensing your nerves.

“Kei, I know about your feelings for Tadashi.”

Tsukishima stiffened at your words. He was too taken aback to hide his shock.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tsukishima stated blankly, avoiding looking at you. You chuckled slightly, putting a hand on Tsukki’s back.

“Your reaction just told me everything I need to know.”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Notes: I think this will have 3?? parts! With more feelings and smut to come uwu ask box is open if you want to be on the tag list or if you have any suggestions/ideas! Tumblr ate all my old asks so its currently empty :/

#tsukishima kei x reader #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x yamaguchi #tsukishima kei x yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #poly tsukkiyama #tsukiyama #tsukkiyama #polyamorous tsukishima yamaguchi

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 8: A kind gesture for Aizawa gone wrong, compensated for with a ton of fluff and shenanigans by the big three. Aizawa also being 100% done with Yamada.

Word Count: 4k

You were skipping down the hallways of UA, on your way to the teachers' lounge. In your hands, you held a bento box.

Sato had been teaching you how to cook. His cooking was just as good as his baking and he had taught you a bunch of skills already in the kitchen. How to peel a potato, cook rice, correctly cut vegetables and meat, the list went on. Most times, you liked to watch him, observing what he did and then tried it for yourself.

He was a very good instructor, even though he brushed off your compliments more than once. He was too humble for his own good.

You knocked on the door a couple of times, a bit louder than last time. Over time, your confidence had been building up thanks to Aizawa's guidance and the constant support you had from your friends surrounding you.

Everyone should be at Lunchrush by now, there was no reason for anyone else to be in the classroom. You had gone there initially but the room was empty and that's when you remembered that Aizawa liked to sleep during that period.

In the teachers' lounge, hidden away from the world in that same yellow sleeping bag.

Your mouth twisted down in a faint frown as you recalled how he never seemed to eat much. Even when the others invited him for dinners at the dorm, seeing as how they rotated who cooked each night, he never seemed to eat a lot or stay for very long.

That was going to change.

You heard someone say it was okay to come in, so hesitantly, you pushed open the door, poking your head inside.

"Excuse me, is Aizawa-sensei here?" You asked politely.

Midnight immediately sprung up from her seat, dashing over to you and squealing at how adorable your ears were.

Her hands, however, were halted a hairbreadth away from your fluffy ears, entwined in familiar cloth binds.

"Nemuri, we talked about this." Aizawa glowered, hair floating as he activated his quirk even though it wasn't necessary.

"Awwww, Shoutaaaaa~" Midnight sang and you offered her a sympathetic glance.

You shifted uneasily. He really didn't have to go to such lengths, you weren't that used to people doing that yet. It still felt a bit weird.

"Ah, it's okay, Aizawa-sensei!!" You stammered out after finding your voice.

"Uh huh," He grunted in your general direction, dragging his colleague over to Yamada and detangled his capture weapon, releasing his quirk.

Immediately after he made sure she wasn't going to move, he lumbered over to you. It appeared to be lethargic but you knew better. He had that same concerned gleam in his eye whenever Midoriya would get reckless or one of his other students hurt themselves.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, inspecting you from head to toe for a single scratch.

You waved frantically, then yelped as you momentarily forgot you were holding the bento box and launched it into the air by accident. Scrambling to catch it, you were successful but you crashed into the lounge with a loud thud.

Aizawa's eyes were wide, not expecting you to suddenly flop in front of him. It happened in the blink of an eye but he recovered quickly and helped you up immediately, but not without scolding you first.

"What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt." His tone was scarily even and your ears fell as it washed over you. "We talked about this, Y/N."

He didn't understand what could be so important that you were willing to risk hurting yourself.

"... 'm sorry..." You mumbled, holding up the box as a sort of peace offering. "I... This is for you."

Aizawa took it but didn't take his eyes off of you, worried that if he stepped away for a second that you would injure yourself.

Mistaking his attentiveness for disappointment in you, you found yourself high-tailing it out the door before he could stop you, holding back tears.

Present Mic approached his best friend with a frown on his face as Aizawa sat down in his chair with a sigh.

Now that he was up, he should mark these papers before the next period. The sooner he got that done, the sooner he could sleep.

Yamada's head shaking in disapproval caught his attention and Aizawa rolled his eyes, not noticing how Kayama was sneaking over to his desk from the opposite side.

"Not cool." Was all his best friend said.

Aizawa lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

Yamada scoffed and Aizawa was taken aback.

"What the hell did I do?" He demanded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "She knows not to bother me when I'm at work by now."

He didn't mean it exactly like that.

It was just that he had talked to you about it previously, the added risks of walking by yourself to the school when it wasn't an emergency. He thought he made it clear.

But he didn't mention that the real reason was because he knew how accident prone you were and was beyond worried every single time you left the dorms.

His best friend just shot him a look of disappointment and Aizawa could feel the irritation creeping up his spine.

"What do you rather me say?" He snapped.

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it." Kayama corrected, twisting around the box that you had brought to him.

In his haze of concern that you had hurt yourself with that nasty fall, he had discarded it rather carelessly, thinking you gave it to him to hold onto while you regained your balance. In his haste, the lid was jarred, revealing the hot, steaming food inside.

Aizawa's heart twisted painfully as Kayama pushed it over to him gently, and he lifted the top off, his heart sinking even more as he saw the carefully crafted katsu curry inside.

It was clearly homemade and clearly for him and he felt awful that he didn't even thank you before you left.

"Fuck." He sowre, grabbing his capture weapon and throwing it over his shoulders.

Ignoring his friends' knowing looks, he sprinted to the door, hoping and praying he could catch you before you went back to Heights Alliance. If you had already left, he would catch up to you. You couldn't have gotten too far away from the school.

He knew that the thought that you had disappointed him would weigh you down and cause you to drag your feet. He prayed that it would work in his favor.

But he was known to have the worst luck in the world.

Running the calculations of how much time was left in the period and combining it with the fastest route to intercept you all went out the window when he threw open the door, stopping himself just in time from crashing into you.

You jumped in surprise. "Aizawa-sensei?"

He thanked the universe.

He was breathing hard and you grew worried. Then, a thought hit you and you stepped to the side, thinking you were blocking his way. He looked like he was heading out somewhere.

He growled at you. "What the hell are you doing?"

Crap, that wasn't at all what he meant to say.

You just blinked, holding up a pair of bamboo chopsticks in your hand. "I... I realized you probably can't eat without these so I went to Lunchrush and got some. I'm really sorry I came today but I was worried that you didn't bring anything to eat today and since Sato-kun's and Todoroki-kun's been helping me, I thought I could—"

Cutting off the rest of your nervous rambling, he engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Aizawa-sensei?!" You burst out, now really worried something was wrong.

He never showed affection so openly like this. You didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry."

Now, you were really freaking out.

"W-What?!"

His arms curled around you tighter and you just stood there, unsure what this was all about. Was it the food? Oh All Might, did he hate it?

You knew it. It would've been better just to buy something and have them deliver it to the school. But you really thought that it would taste okay—

"Kid."

He stopped you from spiraling too far.

Aizawa sighed heavily, detaching himself from you and regarded you with poorly concealed gratitude. "Thank you for the food. It was very thoughtful."

He nearly cringed as the words left his mouth since he wasn't used to being so blunt in this way, but the smile that stretched across your face as he said it made it worth it.

"R-Really?! You don't hate it?!" You blurted out without thinking and in that instant, his expression changed.

Aizawa's chest tightened painfully at how innocently earnest that came out. "Kid, what the actual—"

You clapped a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry!!"

"When did I say that?" He demanded, quite sure he never said he hated anything you made.

But as you shifted uneasily in front of him, he couldn't quell his disbelief. You thought that it wasn't good enough for him, that you had disappointed him.

Ah.

All the puzzle pieces fit seamlessly and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner as well as for his foolishness earlier. He never was very aware when he woke up.

"I'm about to eat it now, how about you come in?" He asked awkwardly, just now noticing how he was having a conversation with you while you were still in the doorway.

You nodded and stepped inside rather shyly, making sure not to trip this time. Unbeknownst to you, Aizawa was looking for the same thing.

Midnight was nowhere to be seen now but she was most likely with Cementoss nearby. Present Mic waved enthusiastically to you from the back and you returned it rather timidly, hiding behind Aizawa before you could stop yourself.

Aizawa chuckled but made no move to pull you out into the open. He had social anxiety, too, so he understood perfectly. Everybody knew how intimidating his best friend could be with that quirk of his. It was the perfect match for his personality.

You walked over to his crowded desk, papers spread all over the place along with a handful of pens haphazardly strewn around. The bento box you had made him sat neatly in the center and you beamed up at Aizawa, tugging on his sweater not-so-discreetly.

He hid a smile at your eagerness, sitting down across from you only after he grabbed a chair for you to sit down in. Vlad King wouldn't mind.

You had to sit on your hands to keep them from shaking as he broke the chopsticks and grabbed a piece of meat from the bento box. You held your breath as he popped it in his mouth, chewing carefully.

He looked thoughtful as he swallowed it and you couldn't contain your silence any longer.

"Is... Does it taste okay?" You questioned, crossing your fingers.

You really wished you had tried it before giving it to him, but at the thought that he would end up with less made you skip over that part, leaving all your previous attempts on the counter and you finished the final product.

Maybe you should've tasted it.

But everything else melted away as a small smile tipped up the corners of his mouth and you squealed.

Aizawa wiped it off of his face. "Calm down, kid."

"You liked it!!" You cheered, dancing around him obnoxiously. "You liked it, I can't believe it!!"

"I didn't say that." He tried to reason but the damage control wasn't enough.

You were too far gone. "You really liked it!!"

"Kid, stop making so much noise." He ordered, hoping that would be enough to get you to stop shouting and dancing circles around him.

"No way, old man!!"

"Old man—?!"

His incredulous protest was cut off as you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight.

"I'm so happy." You cried, unable to stop the flow of tears after all your hard work was rewarded. "I'm so glad you liked it."

Aizawa froze for a second, taken aback by the sudden display of affection. He knew you were rather clingy, in part due to your wolf quirk, but he never expected this. Hesitantly, he returned your hug, finding that he rather liked holding you.

It made him feel like you were his daughter.

Oh All Might, you were his daughter.

You sprang back, wiping your tears with the back of your hand and he already missed you.

For a few seconds, the two of you stared at each other, a newfound understanding forming. It was disrupted as your stomach growled loudly.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Did you eat anything yet today?"

Your sheepish smile answered that question for him. In your haste to get his done on time, you had skipped your own lunch.

Ignoring Yamada's snicker in the back, Aizawa gestured to the meal you had prepared for him. "Have some."

You pouted. "But, I made it for you."

"And I want you to eat some." He found himself saying even though he could easily scarf the whole thing down.

As delicious as it was, something stopped him from nearly inhaling it all.

These wretched parental instincts. Still, he supposed he was willing to accept those instincts as long as it meant you didn't go hungry.

Seeing you still hesitant to accept his offer even though you were clearly starving, he motioned for you to come closer and once you did, he dropped a hand on your head.

"We'll share, okay?" He compromised softly and you gave him a meek nod, giving into his father-like authority that left no room for argument.

Aizawa stretched out the chopsticks without thinking but you took it without pause, delicately picking up a piece of food and munching on it. It didn't escape Yamada's notice and growing curious, he sidled over, eyes glinting with mischief.

"YOOOO, Y/N!!!!" He shouted, the glass of the windows rattling from his loud voice.

You jumped at his volume and Aizawa smacked his best friend over the head, scowling at him.

"Stop that." Aizawa said, checking to make sure you weren't too shaken up by his careless colleague.

But your eyes were transfixed on Yamada as he pointed to the chopsticks in your hand.

"He used those already, here, you can use these."

In a show of good faith, or perhaps as an indirect apology for messing with you, he extended another pair of chopsticks that hadn't been opened yet.

But to both of the men's surprise, you shrugged your shoulders, grabbing one more piece of meat and eating it. "It doesn't bother me."

Both of their jaws dropped but Aizawa recovered faster.

"It doesn't?" He asked curiously.

You shook your head. "Nope, thank you though, Present Mic."

"Oh please, little listener, Yamada-sensei is fine." He reassured you quickly and you shot him that bright smile that melted his heart.

You were just about to take another bite when he interrupted you.

"Do tell me though, Y/N, how come you aren't bothered by sharing germs with this guy?" Yamada asked, poking his best friend in the face.

Aizawa scowled at him, batting him away in annoyance and you giggled, knowing it was all for show.

You rarely got to see him so at ease, it felt like you were being privileged to see a side of him that his students didn't get to yet.

"I don't know, it doesn't matter if it's family right?" You responded before your attention was taken by a particularly enticing piece of meat.

Yamada looked extremely satisfied with that, but Aizawa, he was floored.

You considered him family already?

He swallowed hard, clearing his throat, cheeks pinking slightly and giving away his embarrassment. The other man spotted it immediately and grinned.

"Yeah, it doesn't matter if it's family." Aizawa affirmed softly, making you look up.

You beamed at him, handing back the chopsticks that you had wiped clean with a napkin. "Thank you for the food, sensei!!"

He snorted. "That's my line, kid."

You giggled and the walls he had put up around his heart after years of working as an underground hero crumbled one by one.

That's it. He was screwed.

One of your fluffy ears swiveled as you faintly heard the bell chime from outside, marking the end of the free period. Everyone would be making their way to Midnight's class and since it was your day off, you had planned to get back to the dorms even though you had nothing to do.

Surprisingly, you were rather good with coursework, finishing it rather fast and nailing the topics with relative ease that flabbergasted your classmates.

The teachers had staggered your schedule around the others so that you didn't take on too much at once and this allowed you more time off than the others to compensate for your rigorous schedule.

You didn't have any classes today so that's how you had the time to make him all of this and not be worried about making it to next period.

Thinking it would be rude to ask to stay longer, you reluctantly got up, making your way towards the door. You supposed it was time to go back to the dorm and clean up the mess you had left behind in your hurry.

"Y/N."

Aizawa's low tone halted you in place and you turned around, wondering if he was going to ask something of you.

To your surprise, he gestured to the empty seat next to him.

"Want to help me grade these?" He asked and your eyes lit up.

"Can I?!" You asked excitedly.

"Sure, kid." Aizawa replied, a hint of a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth at your enthusiasm to do something so boring as grading papers.

Pumping your fist in the air, you sped over to his side, nearly tripping yet again in the process but managed to right yourself before crashing to the ground.

Yamada leaned down and lowered his voice, mischievously whispering as you plopped down in the chair next to him. "I always wondered what it would be like if you had kids."

Aizawa sharply elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up." He hissed to his nosy best friend before getting to work alongside you, teaching you what to look for while you skimmed each paper.

After grading papers for a while, he turned to you. While he knew that you hadn't eaten a lot since you were busy making him such a thoughtful lunch, that didn't mean he was going to let you off the hook.

You were currently wolfing down a bowl of gyūdon that he had ordered in for you.

When you objected to the generous offering, he had flatly told you off, easing up and letting you know that he was worried you weren't taking care of yourself and warned not to do it again when your eyes watered dangerously.

You were sly and sneakier than he gave you credit for as you tapped his shoulder. "Can I make you food from now on?"

"No." Came the dry retort from the stoic man, not taking his eyes off of the essays in front of him once.

You turned your best puppy dog eyes on him. "Pleaseeeeee~"

He shot you down again, still not looking at you. "No."

Huffing, you casted a look over your shoulder, puffing out your cheeks. "Yamada-sensei, he's being mean."

Immediately, a wind picked up around you, spurred on by the outraged shout that filled the air so much so that you had to clap your hands over your ears to protect them before your eardrums exploded.

"SHOUTA, WHY ARE YOU BEING MEAN TO MY NIECE?!?!?!?!" Yamada screamed.

Thank goodness it was only the three of you left in the lounge. Midnight and Cementoss had left a while ago and Vlad King wasn't going to be back until much later.

"She's not your niece." Aizawa snapped, throwing a textbook at his face.

Yamada deflected it rather easily and pouted sadly. "But Shouta, if she's your daughter, then that makes me the uncle!!"

Aizawa stiffened, unsure how you would take being labeled as his daughter but his shoulders slumped in relief as you doubled over with laughter.

"He's not wrong." You told him teasingly and he rolled his eyes.

"You two are too much to deal with." Aizawa complained, though there was light in his eyes, giving away his amusement and dare he say it, happiness.

"Hah!! Y/N, we did it!!" Yamada high-fived you excitedly.

You giggled. Aizawa instructed you to finish your food before you helped him grade anymore and you obeyed with a cheeky smile, pushing the rolling chair away so that you slid across the floor, your bright laughter ringing out as you spun around.

Yamada bent down, resting his arm on Aizawa's shoulder as soon as you were out of earshot and occupied with your new toy.

"She's a sweet girl."

Aizawa smiled slightly. "Yeah, she is."

That was the only agreement they reached in that afternoon of craziness.

"Hey, Y/N!! Can you make me lunch, too!!" Yamada shouted over the empty office cubicles from where you were playing fetch.

Definitely not a good idea but you were so full of energy that it was either this or laps around Gym Gamma and this seemed a lot more appealing to you.

"Oi." Aizawa shot him a glare. "Don't make more work for her."

"But her katsu curry is sooooo good." He complained, a dreamy look in his eye.

You readily agreed to make him lunches too, and Aizawa's concern grew.

"You don't have to, you know." He jabbed a finger at his colleague who was reaching for the food in the background, only to be swatted away by him. "He'll survive without food. Unfortunately."

You stifled a laugh at the jab, but it burst out anyways as Yamada heard it and narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

Clutching your midsection, you doubled over when Present Mic jumped on an unsuspecting Eraserhead from behind.

"Gah, get off of me!! You're heavy." Aizawa groaned, shoving him off.

Yamada's gasp was way too over exaggerated for him to actually be insulted and you giggled when he allowed himself to be pushed off.

"Shouta, you love me~" He sang gleefully, dancing back over to him and sticking his face close to his.

"No, I don't." Aizawa expressed emotionlessly.

"WHAAAAAAAT?!" Yamada cried, bawling as he sank to the floor dramatically.

Your laughter had turned silent as you ran out of air to produce sound, tears leaking out of your eyes from laughing so hard that Aizawa actually had to rush over and make sure you were still breathing.

After that, he didn't let the loudmouth get that far again.

Once the chaos died down a decent amount, he became concerned as he realized that by making his annoying best friend food from now on, it'll be too much of a hassle.

Aizawa's thoughts ran rampant as he tried to think of valid reasons to talk you out of it.

You could fall behind on your studies. You could overwork yourself. You would make the rest of the students lazy if they caught wind of your delicious cooking.

But you brushed him off, flashing your canines as you confidently reassured him that you would be okay making both him and Yamada lunches every day.

"I can make them when I free time and plan ahead so that you have food for each week." You told him, subtly insisting that you could handle it.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck, thinking you shouldn't be putting so much pressure on yourself to do this for him, but in the end your determination won out and he surrendered.

But only after telling you repeatedly not to overdo it.

You hid a smile behind your hand as he resumed his work, your ears twitching as the next bell rang and you stood up to get back to Heights Alliance, collecting the empty bento box on your way out.

He might deny it if you asked him while Yamada was there, but you were quite sure that was his way of saying that he loved you.

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

#bnha fanfiction #ojiro x reader #ojiro x reader fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #kayama nemuri #midnight #present mic #eraserhead #dadzawa #platonic aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta fanfiction #ojiro fluff #aizawa angst #hurt and comfort #parental aizawa #aizawa shota

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

An Encounter Among Blossoms

Summary: Haru meets a young man who seems to have an affinity for her gardening neighbor. She's quite eager to scout him out before the two of them meet.

Rating: G

Warnings: Akechi sticks a rabbit in a bag, but the rabbit is fine.

Notes: It’s a Haru fic for Akechi’s birthday which is just a little strange but I really love the idea of her and Akechi as gardening neighbors. It’s super cute. Haru’s super cute. Shuake’s super cute. Cute!

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

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It hadn’t been a particularly bright or warm day. The diluted sunshine was still pleasant in its own way, comfortable like room temperature and unassuming. Another fine day, she would think as she headed down the usual path, humming a little tune as she did. The insignificance of the weather preceded the encounter which was anything but.

When Haru rounded around the corner to her garden, there was an unfamiliar young man standing by. It wasn’t unusual for people to pass by, nor was it unusual for them to stop with alarm once they heard the string of colorful curses and irate grumbles. This young man, however, was not frozen in place with alarm. He stared out into her gardening neighbor’s domain and even without seeing his face, Haru knew the young man was transfixed.

“Excuse me,” Haru called out politely, making the young man jump. She wondered what sort of face she expected under that head of messy black curls, but—perhaps she was surprised by how striking this stranger looked.

Yes, this young man had almost delicate features. A smooth jaw and soft lips parted in surprise before pulling into a more neutral line. His eyes were dark like iron—one that held other colors in its embrace rather than swallowed them whole.

“Staring is rude,” Haru said, then, aware that she was staring. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, I...” The young man steps back, ducking his head as if to hide that gaze behind his fringe. A shame, really, Haru almost wanted to comb them back to catch another glimpse.

...but if he had stopped to stare, then it was at...

“I just,” the young man continues, pinching a curl between his long fingers. Elegant if not for how the nails had been bitten short. “I was just...passing by.”

“That’s fine,” Haru said sunnily. “Would you mind helping me out, then?”

“Oh.” This person made a very familiar face. The kind where it’s clear the person finds it difficult to say no. “Is that...alright?”

“I could always use a helper bee,” Haru chirped and when she came close, she murmured to him, “And Goro does as well, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it.”

The young man is silent, but there’s the slightest twitch of a smile at his lips.

“I’m Haru,” she says, blushing now that she realized she hadn’t yet introduced herself.

“Amamiya...Ren.” He nodded politely in return. “It’s nice to meet you, Haru-san.”

“Just Haru is fine, Amamiya-kun.”

“Then just Ren is fine.”

Goodness...he doesn’t know the effect he has on people, does he?

She was almost glad to swoop in before Goro could see or notice.

She was especially glad when it turned out Ren was a dutiful helper. He would do anything asked without complaint. Admittedly, he’d be so docile it uncomfortably reminded her of her past self. At the very least, it was less that Ren was eager to please and more that it just—didn’t occur to him to perform half-heartedly.

As he meticulously pulled out weeds, she did notice his posture wasn’t dissimilar to Goro’s.

A hard worker, one who doesn’t complain. With natural charm.

“Ren, ren,” she says in a lilting voice, smiling when he looks up to her attentively. Her smile broadens and she hands him one freshly washed tomato. “They’re ripe today. What do you think?”

Ren does smile mildly before biting into the tomato. He’s quick to lick its juices off his fingers. He nods in approval but is too busy eating to give any verbal compliments.

“Good enough for Goro?” she asks, watching to see if he chokes. He does not, but he’s quieter. There’s a softer pink on his cheeks. Haru can’t help but grin. “Gather some up when you’re done. We’re going to visit him.”

Ren didn’t work half-heartedly, but it was only now that he worked eagerly and enthusiastically. He diligently picked, and painstakingly washed each one until it was spotless. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t envious.

Ren was a charming young man. Even if she already has a beautiful girlfriend, she wouldn’t mind dating him as well. Only if her girlfriend was into it as well, of course.

Alas, I don’t think he’s interested in me at all.

She’s not too bothered, not when Ren follows her like a puppy and carries the basket of tomatoes with great care. As if he’d do anything to avoid even the slightest bruise. As she crosses the border from her garden into her neighbor’s, it’s not long before she spots that neighbor. Specifically his sunhat and his ponytail. Kneeling down, staring at a squirming sack no doubt with a look of deep consternation.

“Goro, what are you doing?” she asks cheerfully. “Is there a rabbit in that bag?”

“This fucking pest,” he hisses, snapping to attention and spinning on his heel to face her. “Won’t leave my goddamn...ah.” His expression drops the second he sees that someone else is with her. His face scrunches up. “Amamiya? What the hell?”

“Oh!” Haru gasped, looking between them. “You two know each other?”

Ren simply stares at Goro intensely, and Goro’s mouth twitches into a forced smile.

“Goodness, what a surprise,” he says, slipping into a more pleasant front with the elegance of the stepsister shoving her foot into the glass slipper. “Amamiya-kun is the barista of the café I frequent. We’ve played chess a few times. We’re...acquaintances, you can say. I’m quite embarrassed you’ve seen me in such an...improper state.” He even tugs at his sunhat to hide his face. Specifically that cute splatter of freckles that Haru appreciated even if the general populace didn’t. “I apologize greatly.”

He gives a bow.

“Goro,” Haru reprimanded gently. “Enough of that. Ren-kun already saw you cursing out the grass earlier.”

“I sure did,” Ren agreed, and he hands Goro the basket. “Here you are, Akechi.”

“Happy birthday!” Haru exclaimed excitedly and shoved Ren forward for good measure. Ren did yelp, as did Goro, but no one managed to fall. Not yet anyway. “I know you said not to get you anything, but I had...a bootyful harvest! And to top it off, Ren-kun’s just your type!”

“Haru,” Goro hissed, red in the face.

“You look really nice in a ponytail,” Ren offered awkwardly. “But, uh, you’re not going to eat that rabbit, right? Like...the big bad wolf?”

“Goodness, no!” Haru exclaimed. “Goro just catches them and gives them to me to release elsewhere. Although I’m not sure...” She trails off when she sees just how covered in dirt Goro is. “Well. You can at least try not to frighten them so much.”

“For whatever reason this one avoided the usual traps,” Goro huffed, gesturing at the sack as if it were obscene. “I had to personally deal with it.”

“Is it really your birthday?” Ren asks. “I, uh...didn’t know. But if you want, I can treat you to curry and coffee on the house later this afternoon...”

“Doesn’t that sound lovely?” Haru asks, and she goes to gingerly pick up the sack. She does glance inside and yes, it’s quite the energetic black bunny. She wonders if she’d get away with taking it home instead. Probably not. “I’ll take care of this darling.”

“Haru,” Goro warned again. “I-It’s not...”

“Please enjoy your tomatoes and your birthday, Goro! Don’t feel the need to wait on me if you want to go somewhere!”

She’d leave with a skip in her step but she doesn’t want to jostle the rabbit too much. Either way, she ignores Goro calling after her in exasperation and unease. He quiets, and a quick glance back—she sees that Ren is patting Goro’s shoulder as he sullenly bites into a tomato.

“Here you are, darling!”

Strangely, the rabbit doesn’t dart away the second Haru releases it. It just sniffs around, grooming its ear, blinking up at her with beady eyes.

“Curious dear, aren’t you,” she cooed. “And mischievous. Should I give you a name? How about Loki?”

The rabbit turns away, seeming disinterested.

“Or Noir!” Haru exclaimed, and laughed. “Either way, caused quite a bit of trouble for Goro, didn’t you? But you must know that his bark is often worse than his bite. Despite that, the flowers he grows are quite beautiful, aren’t they? Do you think under those roses is where he buried our fathers?”

No answer of course, but when it glanced back, she couldn’t help but be reminded of Ren.

...they met already, huh...? Then...I think things will be very interesting from here on out.

She and Goro had been associates for quite some time now. She’d like to think she knew him quite well, and she thought she had scouted Ren out well enough to know that he was Goro’s type.

“He deserves to be happy,” she told the rabbit and left it at that.

When she returns, Ren and Goro are already deep in some strange debate. Goro even laughs, but he quickly scowls when Ren points out the juice on his cheek. Ren’s commenting, likely on Goro’s demeanor, and the conversation is serious now.

As curious as she is, it’s improper to eavesdrop. Haru crosses the border once more, returning to her garden. There’s still work to be done.

#haru okumura #okumura haru #shuake #akeshu #goro akechi #Magi fics

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tinyshinysylveon · 4 years

Text

i suddenly got this idea where izuku is an anonymous famous editor for youtubers who hire him to edit their videos because he’s a professional at doing it, and katsuki is an upcoming youtube vlogger who travels around the world and yet doesn’t know how to edit his own videos to save his life, so no matter what he does, he always seem to mess up even the basics of editing (part 1/??)

“i think you need professional help” kirishima says as he watches katsuki trying to drag an edited cut on to his video for the umpteenth time that day “shut up, shitty hair just give me a minute-” an error popup. “did you just.. deleted the video?” “....”

katsuki keeps trying, he even watched tutorials on youtube (while skipping important segments ofc because he can totally do that all on his own!) but his patience is wearing thin until kirishima recommended him to someone who’s known in the youtube community for their famous editing skills

“..deku?” katsuki stares at his screen showing a youtube profile with the name deku as their username and an icon of all might with edited-in sunglasses “okay look, he may seem suspicious to you, but i gotta tell you bakugou, he’s legit, i’ve seen his videos and they look awesome!” well katsuki will be the judge of that despite this deku having 5 mil+ subscribers than him!

the blonde spent the whole day watching deku’s videos which mostly consists of amvs (anime music videos) and games, especially the ones that required a lot of effort to make, plus he even made tutorials! so he gotta give him credit for that, but alas, katsuki is still somehow having trouble following directions and gave up on the latest tutorial video on how to add an easy transition

when kirishima came to check in with katsuki, all he heard were multiple clicks and grumbled noises, he let out an exasperated sigh “i can’t believe you’re still trying..” “what the fuck do you want me to do kirishima?” katsuki was trying not to flip his table at this point. “hire him obviously!” the red head yells out as if that’s the answer to their problems “..and how do you suppose i do that?”

it actually took a lot of convincing in kirishima’s part, but katsuki finally threw away his pride and decided to send a message to deku’s business email that was left under his about page on youtube

“..i want you to become my editor and help me in becoming the #1 youtube travel vlogger in the community” kirishima reads the message out loud that’s displayed on the screen, “you sure you want to send it like this?” “i don’t see anything wrong with it?” “but don’t you think it’s too.. blunt? no formalities or anything like, hello i’ve seen your videos and i would be honored to have you as my editor, you know?” katsuki just shrugged, “it’s too late, i already sent it to him”

about half a day later, deku replied back, “Good afternoon Mr.Explosionmurder, I appreciate that you requested me to become your editor and would like to discuss further details about our agreement via discord. You can contact me by adding my username, deku#2463. I look forward to hearing from you.” to this day, kirishima still can’t believe his eyes when he read the message

“oi shitty hair, what’s a discord?”

it wasn’t katsuki’s fault that the majority of time he spent in high school was doing his best to stay on top of assignments and projects, plus being in the A honor roll, he didn’t really get to decide on his career until after he graduated, thanks to the courtesy of his parents owning their own modeling industry, he put the money he saved up to good use in traveling around the world and vlogging it for people to see with kirishima as his traveling partner

he explained all of this and his reasonings to deku on discord once he reached out to him and figured out how to use the platform, but katsuki was still suspicious regarding his video editing skills and wanted to see it firsthand on how his videos would look like as a finished product

deku: fair enough, send me your videos and i’ll see what i can do, until then, if you deem it satisfactory, which i’m confident that you will, i request a 50/50 payment on your revenue. take it or leave it.

for some reason, katsuki agreed to it without a second thought due to the challenging tone from the message; “i can’t believe you! i told you to trust him! why do you have to doubt him?! haven’t you already seen his videos?!” kirishima was full on panicking at this point, how were they going to make money?! “shut up, i know what i’m doing! i know what’s best for my videos!” it was a good chance too since they’re currently in hong kong and planning to shoot the top 10 tourist spots to visit as claimed by an article he found online

a few days later, katsuki finally got all the videos piled up in one folder and sent them all in a google drive to share with deku just as he requested, he even mentioned to him thru discord message to follow the cues he was giving him on his videos such as when he and kirishima took a stroll and tried foods in the temple street night market; “hey deku, i want you to do a close up of kirishima eating the curry fish ball with erotic music playing in the background” he smirks while focusing the camera on the red head eating without a care in the world and not noticing katsuki making the comment, “mmm dude, mmm you gotta try this, it’s so freakin’ good- wait bro, how long have you been pointing the camera at me?”

in less than a week, deku sent a reply back with the link to the fully edited video; deku: hmm, not gonna lie, but your cues were actually helpful and dare I say, creative? katsuki took it as a compliment and opened the link to the video file, it was about a few GB so it shouldn’t take a long time to upload on youtube, but.. was it ready? he called in kirishima to watch it with him and was actually prepared for it to look horrible despite deku’s obvious talent except.. it was actually pretty good?? better even?! “what did i tell ya katsuki? i told you he was legit,” his partner boasted, just earlier he was embarrassed when the part about him eating the curry fish ball with the “let’s get it on” music in the background showed up while the blonde just rolled his eyes.

explosionmurder: thanks, and i just saw it, consider yourself hired deku: happy to be of service! i’m looking forward to working with you, mr.explosionmurder! it would be helpful again if you provided the cues during your journey! :) explosionmurder: don’t mention it and also don’t call me that, call me katsuki deku: okay, mr.katsuki! [all might emoji]

kastuki found it odd that he became really eager during the exchange but thought nothing of it

a couple of months flew by and katsuki with kirishima in tow have already travelled in 4 other different countries, he even received about 500k+ subscribers, he’s almost to 1 million! as per agreement, he gives half of his revenue to deku which was okay with him since he still has a lot of saved up money in the bank including kirishima’s since they’re sharing it anyway, most of the time, his communication with deku have been entirely professional with a few emojis in between (usually deku’s part), until today that is

deku: it must be nice to travel 0: explosionmurder: pfft, what are you talking about? you now have over 7 mil+ subscribers in your channel since i met you, you can go traveling whenever or wherever you want deku: i can’t explosionmurder: what do you mean you can’t?

no reply

since then, katsuki didn’t want to think too much on what deku said and focused mostly on traveling, those videos won’t work themselves! after he finished, he sent over the videos of his recent trip from india over to deku and as usual, deku delivered it back beautifully edited along with a message

deku: that’s so cool! you guys went to india? *o* [link to video edit] explosionmurder: yeah, you should’ve seen shitty hair when he tried that really spicy curry, which reminds me, you did what i asked right? deku: of course mr. katsuki! as always, i’ve paid attention to every cue you asked for! [saluting pepe emoji] explosionmurder: good good, i didn’t just hire you to sit on your ass all day deku: haha you’re not my only contractor you know ^^” explosionmurder: is that what you meant when you said you couldn’t travel because you’ve been busy? way to be blunt katsuki, he mentally berated himself, but at least deku answered this time, although reluctantly deku: ...let’s just say im stuck at home in that very moment, is when everything changed between them explosionmurder: alright nerd, you sound depressed as hell so i’m going to give you the decision to decide on where we’re going to travel to next, think of it as a reward for all you’ve done for us deku: asdkjflas that’s too much! T_T are you sure mr. katsuki??? explosionmurder: i’m waiting, you got 3 seconds starting now, 3 deku: america! i’ve been wanting to go to america...

katsuki told kirishima his plans, then the spiky red head gave him a pat on the back and a thumbs up, “so you do have a sentimental bone in your body!” kirishima was almost close to being dead that very same day

when they arrived to america, he asked deku the list of things he wanted to see and most of them were, “all might amusement park, all might cafe, all might- is there anything else the nerd likes besides all might and superheroes?” katsuki says while viewing the list in the hotel they’re staying at. “give him a break, you said so yourself that he couldn’t leave his house, so this is the least we can do for him and for all the hard work he put in our videos,” kirishima reasoned with him

on the last day of their trip, katsuki did his routine in piling the videos together and sending them to deku with the attached message, “i actually bought you a souvenir if you want it, looked like the type of shit you would like, you’ll see what it is in the videos i’ve sent you” they’ve known each other long enough so he thought why the hell not, it’s just a matter of getting his PO address, and the response to this was immediate, “AAA I SAW IT! THANK YOU THANK YOU!” <3<3 <(^w^<)

it was an all might limited edition figurine only available in the US

for the first time, deku took two days longer to finish than katsuki expected him to since they’ve started because he always goes through them pretty quickly, maybe he’s too busy making them look up-to-par? whatever the case was, when katsuki received the video, it already had a title for it, “MY AWESOME TRIP TO AMERICA PLUS ULTRA!” kirishima just laughed and told him to keep it in honor of deku so he left it like that, “this better give me some views,” he grumbled and uploaded it the night before they went to bed, he wasn’t really worried in checking it out either because he has faith in deku’s abilities

the morning after was hectic, katsuki has been receiving notifications upon notifications on the “travel bros” (courtesy of kirishima) twitter since last night, one in particular caught his eye, “i can’t believe deku and katsuki are dating! who would’ve thought!” what?

a short video appeared underneath that came from the video he uploaded, and regretfully never took a look at, showing katsuki saying to the camera as he held the AM figurine, “deku, you should’ve been here, look at what i got you, nerd,” at first glance, it was supposed to look normal (from the original video!) except hearts and sparkles began appearing around katsuki as he smirks up at the camera, what the fuck? besides, deku was suppose to edit that all out! for every cue in every part where he says deku’s name, he was expected to delete them like he usually does! even though it was no secret that deku was his video editor, he distinctly remembers mentioning about him in a video they took way back when they first started out their contract agreement

meanwhile, kirishima was having a field day, he finally saw their video while katsuki kept on seeing other short videos of him on twitter from different segments of the trip in which he either had sparkles or hearts around him, especially when he mentions deku’s name; “bro you won’t believe this, our subscribers grew up to over 1 million last night!” kirishima yells enthusiastically, but when he noticed katsuki not paying attention to him, he looked over his shoulder to check what he was looking at. “oh that, you know those aren’t fanmade videos, right?” katsuki unblinkingly turned to look at him, “you mean..?” kirishima gave him a toothy grin, “yep!”

a video call from discord, “dekuuuu, what is the meaning of this?” a squeaky voice, “i-I’m so sorry i got carried away and i couldn’t help it! all might was too beautiful including you and-!” “..what did you just say?”

TBC maybe?

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk #ktdk #katsuki x izuku #my trashy writing #I REALLY DIDNT MEANT FOR THIS TO BE LONG #the last time ive wrote something this long was my assassin!au #but this is probably longer aa #the ideas were flowing inside me so i couldnt help myself asdfghjkl #i have it all planned out but it was getting too long and i'll probably write the rest if this gets enough attention #;;;#I swear this sounded better in my head #ill edit this later..

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boinkbby · 4 years

Text

Kaminari x (plus size)Reader Oneshot

this is my first oneshot so.. you know.. just a warning PFFT

{{ TW: This story is between Denki Kaminari and a plus sized reader! In it, the reader expresses self deprecating thoughts, body image issues, and ED behaviors. They are comforted by Kaminari. Weight and skipping meals are mentioned. Read at your own risk! <3}}

You sat at the foot of your bed, feeling numb. Tear streaks seemed to be permanently etched onto your cheeks at this point; you hadn’t been able to get a good night's sleep in over a week. Prior to that point, you had been doing well. However, recently your depression has been beating you down and rendering you incapable of being your usual chirpy self. If the inescapable melancholy mindset wasn’t bad enough alone, you had extreme body image issues. The combination of the two had you beyond down in the dumps, you could barely function. You hadn’t been eating much, but it wasn’t exactly out of self neglect. Your brother had been trying to get you to eat, cooking you curry and other meals. He would leave it in your room for you, but you rarely ate it. Occasionally, he’d succeed in getting you to eat something; however, the guilt you felt after eating always overpowered your hunger for the next meal. You wanted to be thinner; despite the fact that skipping meals was unhealthy and unreasonable, you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t like your reflection. In fact, it seemed all you could do was obsess over it.

As you sat cris-cross on the edge of your bed, you faced the mirror that was set up parallel to you. Your eyes skimmed your reflection, picking apart your body and obsessing over each individual imperfection and flaw you could possibly identify. You sat in silence, feeling as if your chest caved in. You had moved beyond the point of self sympathy, you were just hurting. You felt disgusted with yourself and you hated your reflection more than anything. As you were entrapped in your self deprecating thoughts, you slid off the end of your bed and landed on the carpet below you in a heap. You pulled your knees to your chest as tightly as you could, planting your head firmly in the tops of your arms and allowing yourself to wallow in your emotions and drown in the horrible thoughts that wracked your mind. Before you knew it, your body was shaking with sobs. You couldn’t help yourself, you were hurting and you couldn’t continue fighting the stinging behind your eyes.

Beneath your room, you could faintly hear the cacophonous chorus of eager voices. Your brother had his friends over. You spent time with them often, they sort of adopted you into their group. They were enrolled in the hero course at UA, meanwhile you had taken to the general studies option. They often spent the night at your house, tonight being one of those nights. They were spread out around your living room, all tightly gripping a controller as they stared at the screen they were playing games on. They had always been a competitive bunch, your brother Katsuki in particular.

Downstairs

“WHICH ONE OF YOU SHIT HEADS PUT A DAMN BANANA PEEL AFTER THE FINISH LINE?” Katsuki’s voice boomed.

Sero smirked, “That would be me,” he stated proudly as he passed Bakugou on the second lap.

“BRO! Denki you’re going the wrong way! Look at the sign the floaty man is holding, it means you’re going on the map backwards!” Mina scolded, briefly glancing at the determined, yellow haired boy.

“I know! I’m trying to catch Kiri, he hit me with a shell!” He responded, laughing as he got behind Kirishima to pelt him with the three red shells he had collected. As Kirishima got hit three times in a row, he threw his arms up into the air in exasperation.

“Dude! There’s no way for me to catch up to Bakugou!” Kirishima whined, tossing down his controller as the FINISH! pop-up appeared on his screen.

“It was too late anyway, shitty hair.” The fiery blonde responded, smirking as he dropped his controller on the couch and put his hands behind his head. “Too easy.” The room was filled with various sounds of desperation, every player having lost to Bakugou countless times.

Denki smiled, not as concerned about his loss and more focused on the vengeance he got over Eijiro. “Good job Bakubro, I’ll be back though. I gotta use the bathroom, play a round without me!”

His exit was only briefly acknowledged as the determined bunch went right back to their cutthroat way of playing, insulting one another and starting the next round.

Upstairs

Kaminari had just finished in the bathroom, heading for the staircase. He faltered in his gait as he heard soft whimpers echoing through the hall. He glanced down the hallway in confusion, his eyes meeting your doorway. Katsuki told them when they first got to his house that you wouldn’t be playing because you weren’t feeling well. You were all off from school, Denki felt especially bummed that you were sick during one of the few breaks you got.

Not to mention throughout getting to know you, he had found himself feeling more and more attached and attracted to you. He admired your beauty and personality from the day Katsuki introduced you to their group of friends, ever since that day the two of you had grown closer. Concerned about you being in pain, he walked carefully to your door. He brought his knuckle up to the door and knocked gently, the pressure easing it open. Not anticipating the door to be open already, he glanced away out of respect for your privacy. However, he couldn’t help but do a double take when he noticed your crumpled figure in a heap.

“Y/N?” He softly inquired, his tone dripping with concern.

Your body jolted, startled by his presence. Quickly processing that it belonged to the caring boy you had grown to love, you quickly turned away from him and began frantically wiping at your face. You gulped, praying to whatever higher being there was that your voice would be strong.

“Kaminari! Everything is ok-“ your voice cut out in the middle of your statement, you had planned on assuring him that everything was fine and he should leave so he wouldn’t get sick. However, your body had different plans. Your voice was raspy and revering with every word, and a sob brought your sentence to a streaking halt.

The now wide-eyed boy in your doorway froze for a moment, having a brief internal conflict. It was obvious that something was wrong and he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries by entering your room without permission, but his desperate desire to comfort you quickly overpowered that sentiment. “Y/N, I’m coming in, I hope that’s okay-“ his voice trailed off at the end as the sound of your sobs flowed through the room. He felt like his world stopped turning for a moment, immediately deciding that he never wanted to hear that sound again. He immediately sat down beside you, setting a hand gently on your shoulder.

Your body tensed at the contact, but immediately relaxed afterwards. You attempted to organize your thoughts and what you wanted, but it was difficult to do in the moment.

“Y/N, what’s going on? I’m here for you to talk to. Do you need medicine?” He asked, his yellow eyes staring intently at you, desperate to get to the root of what was causing you to cry and resolve it in any way he could.

You slowly turned your body to him, bringing your eyes up to meet his gaze. “I’m not sick, Kaminari.” Your voice came out as a whisper, you wanted so badly to be perfect for the boy in front of you. Only now, you were exactly the opposite. You were in the same outfit you had been wearing for days, a massive hoodie and shorts. Your hair was tied into a messy bun, you hadn’t had the strength to comb through it.

Denki’s brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, before realization flooded his mind. Despite his ability to seem like a dunce sometimes, he was pretty intuitive when it came to situations like this. When your eyes met his, he could see the pain behind the usually sparkling irises. The heavy, dark bags under your eyes and salt-coated streams down your face did enough to show him that this wasn’t a stupid stomach virus, you were hurting. “Y/N-“ he trailed off briefly, brushing the pieces of hair that had fallen from your flimsy bun out of your face. He gathered his words carefully before he spoke, “I’m here, talk to me about it.”

His voice sounded so soft and comforting in that moment, you felt comfortable just hearing it. Before you could speak again, your eyes were already streaming tears again and you were choking on your sobs. It felt like you were crying harder now than you ever had been in the last week. As he witnessed you shattering before him, he felt like he was going to short circuit. He’d never seen someone so vulnerable in front of him, let alone the girl he’d grown to care so much about. Before he could think, his hands were holding your hips gently and he pulled you into his lap. Being so close to him felt so natural to you that you wrapped your legs around him, your arms around his waist as you curled your head into his chest and sobbed.

Denki looked down at you, wrapping his arms around your back, resting his chin in your hair and running his hands gently through your hair. “It’s okay, Y/N, let it out. Breathe. I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the only sounds to be heard were your gentle cries and deep breaths as you tried to collect yourself. You tilted your head, flattening your cheek against his chest as you looked to the side. “I just-“ you paused, surprised at the sound of your voice. It sounded so shallow, your throat raw from crying for so long. “I don’t want to be me anymore. I hate me. I hate my body. I’m so tired of my reflection, I’m tired of being Y/N. I’m so fat, it’s disgusting. I feel like all I can do is look in the mirror, and every time I do it hurts more. I hate what’s looking back at me. I want to be thin, but I’m not. I’ll never be able to be good enough.” As you spoke, you subconsciously unwrapped your arms from his hips and grabbed your stomach with your hands. You squeezed around your abdomen tightly, as if it would make it smaller.

Denki stayed quiet, listening to what had been plaguing your mind for so long. Every negative word you uttered about yourself hit Kaminari in the pits of his heart, immediately striking a flame of determination in his mind. He also took notice of you squeezing at your stomach, immediately leaning away from you and moving to stand up. He carried you gently to your bed, setting you down in front of him as he sat down with you. He nudged your chin up to make eye contact with you and took your hands in his, interlocking your fingers firmly. “Y/N. I can’t explain how those words just made me feel. I had no idea you were feeling that way, I never even imagined there was a possibility of you thinking of yourself like that. The thought of someone being able to dislike you-“ He swallowed harshly, nervous but determined. “It’s so alien to me. When I look at you, all I see is beauty. I say that with full sincerity. Take it from someone who can’t help but steal glances at you every moment I get the chance. You are gorgeous...in every way I can imagine. The way your eyes shine when you speak on what you’re passionate about, the way you dance to those kpop songs I never understand…I even started listening to them because of watching you dance! T-that’s besides the point. The way your face lights up when you get excited, the way your laugh echoes when you find something genuinely funny, the quiet giggles when you laugh at something small, the way your arms feel around me, the way you look every single time I look at you...there’s always something new for me to admire. For me to smile at. For me to love.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, taking in every word he said. Before you could try to speak, he continued. “As if your personality wasn’t enough to capture my attention the moment I met you, your appearance brings that much more to the table. Your body is perfect in my eyes. You’re not too big, you could never be. You are beautiful. You don’t have to be super thin, you don’t have to be a twig. I love your body the way it is. It’s okay to be a bit bigger, there’s nothing wrong with it. You look beautiful. You’re not fat either, you’re curvy. You carry your weight beautifully. There’s nothing wrong with having extra meat on your bones, you are beautiful. You look ethereal. Every single time I’m blessed enough to look at your body, all I see is a gorgeous girl. With an even more beautiful personality, if it’s even possible to top your looks. I’ve always wanted to be able to hold you like this, to tell you these things. Not under these circumstances, though. I never want you to feel that way about yourself.”

You sat there for a moment, taking in everything he was spouting out. For such a clumsy dude, he certainly was saying all the right things at the moment. Before you knew it, your previous concerns were gone and forgotten. You had liked Kaminari for so long, you wanted to be with him. You weren’t usually the type to let others opinions determine your worth, but hearing those words come from Denki with such sincerity, it meant so much to you. They broke through the walls you put up around your heart, they got through to those self deprecating parts of your mind. In that moment, you made up your mind.Kaminari, he was the boy you wanted to be with. Anytime you had a moment of self doubt, you knew he would be there to pick you up. You are enough for him, and that’s enough for you

You had tears in your eyes again, but this time they were out of joy. “Kaminari, do you really mean it?”

“I’m surprised it came as a shock to you-“ he paused, winking, “no pun intended. I haven’t exactly been discreet, Katsuki has hit me in the back of the head every time he caught me fawning at you. And that’s happened more times than I can count.” By the time he was done speaking, he had a pink dusting to his cheeks.

You smiled at his cute joke. “I feel the same way, dork. You mean a lot to me, and...that meant a lot to me.”

Denki turned serious again. “Y/N...how long have you been like this? Hurting and cooped up?” He asked softly, taking in your appearance.

“Um...a little over a week.” You said sheepishly, hanging your head.

He nodded, standing up and making his way over to the vanity beside your bed. He picked up your hair brush, going back to your bed and sitting down with his back to your headboard and patting his legs, gesturing for you to sit between them. You hesitated before doing so, a bit confused. Before long, you felt his fingers working through your hair and untying the knotted ball of hair you called a bun. You sat like this for a while, him gently brushing through the knots until your hair was smooth again. By the time he was done, you were dozing off. The pure exhaustion had taken a toll on your body and was finally catching up to you. Denki noticed, setting down your brush as you eased the back of your head into his chest. He blushed, the extent of the situation suddenly weighing in on him. He was with the girl he liked, in her room, in her bed, her laying on his chest. And she just so happened to be his explosive friend’s sister. “Y/N, I should go. You need to rest.” You shook your head, turning around so that your face could rest in his chest.

“Please Denki, don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone anymore, I want to stay with you,” you said, as you rested your head against his chest. Your tired eyes were once again leaking tears, you didn’t realize how tired of being alone you were. Isolating yourself from the people you cared about had been damaging you even more.

Saying that Denki felt fulfilled and content in that moment would be an understatement. Hearing you say you wanted to be with him, it made his heart skip a beat. If he wasn’t already blushing, he definitely was now. He pulled your blankets around the two of you and turned off your lamp, wrapping his arms around you. One hand laced into your hair, the other began tracing shapes on your back. “Please, princess, if you ever feel that way again- talk to me. I will always be here, I want to be the one you can go to.”

He felt you tense slightly at the use of the pet name, before you melted into his hands like putty. He thought he overstepped for a moment, but the blush that flooded your cheeks and the content hum that left your lips led him to think otherwise. “I love you, dork.” You quietly trailed off, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep overcame you.

He planted a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, princess.” He laid there soaking up the feeling of having you in his arms for a while, falling asleep not long after you.

Downstairs-ish

“I swear if he blew up my bathroom I’ll blow up his face.” Katsuki snarled as the group that was once playing Mario Kart climbed the stairs. Kaminari has been upstairs for nearly 30 minutes and they were all pretty sure he was either doing something dumb or having some difficulties.

“Bro is he constipated or what?” Kirishima asked as they made their way down the hallway, the bathroom being at the very end. They all were knocking on the door and taunting the boy they thought was inside, all of them except Katsuki. As they passed your doorway, he noticed the open door and the two of you laying together beyond it.

His fists clenched at his sides, “What the fuck-“ he was about to barge in and go ballistic, but then the realizations starting filing into his mind. You were asleep, fully clothed, on top of a fully clothed, also asleep, Kaminari. Katsuki was hard headed but he wasn’t stupid. He had noticed you weren’t eating or sleeping, he knew you weren’t sick either. That was just your lame excuse. He had tried to help in his own way, bringing you bowls of extra spicy curry and meat buns. But, he didn’t know how to help you in the way you needed it. The two of you had always been relatively close, you just had a weird way of showing it. Though he would never admit it, he missed your incessant ramblings and obsessive rants about your dumb interests. He knew you were depressed, you hadn’t tried talking to him about it. That behavior was unusual in and of itself because usually you don’t shut up and he screams at you for being annoying. It was like a ritual for you two, but in the last week, he had no pesky brat to be annoyed with. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it, but you needed help - help that he couldn’t provide, but apparently his battery brained friend could. However, he was already planning out his overprotective brother monologue that he’d be yelling at Denki before the day was over. Like any other brother threatening any boy who could potentially break his sister’s heart, just with a more explosive, aggressive, and threatening twist. Others may beat up their sister’s ex-boyfriends, but he would detonate Denki into oblivion.

Before Katsuki was done thinking over the situation, he had gathered an audience. The three stooges were behind him, peering over his shoulders and into the room. Once they saw, they all let out a collective gasp and formed their own thoughts on the situation. He gently pulled your door shut, turning around to the gaggle of idiots he accidentally associates himself with and began pushing them all away from the door and toward the stairs.

“Did you see the way he was holding her? So manly!” Kirishima said, pumping his fist in the air.

“I totally shipped them from the beginning! He always short circuits around her, so cute!!” Mina squealed, cupping her face in her hands.

“They grow up so fast!” Sero croaked, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Katsuki groaned, “Shut up dumbasses! His ass is grass once she wakes up. Stupid battery, I’ll blow his ass to bits if he lays one finger on her!”

Sero covered his mouth, holding in a laugh. “He already has his fingers on-“ before he could finish his sentence, Katsuki was already chasing him through the house screaming at him.

Mina and Kirishima looked at one another, Mina crossing her arms sassily and looking at Eijiro with a smirk. She popped one hand on her hip and held out the other, “You lost, pay up!”

Kirishima groaned, slapping a wad of money into her hand. “I didn’t think he’d have it in him!”

“I told you they’d be together by the end of the break! The way they’re totally in love? It was just a matter of time!” She smiled cheekily, tugging an arm up onto his shoulder and pulling him into the living room where Katsuki and Eijiro were already back to fighting in the video game.

THANK YOU FOR READING IT!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!! It’s my first work, so it may not be the best. If you want me to make more, pls leave suggestions! Thank youuu <3

#plus size reader #my hero academia #mha #denki kaminari #tw: ed behaviors #first oneshot #oneshot #kaminari oneshot #denki oneshot #my hero academia oneshot #plus size oneshot #denki #kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #bnha #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot

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velnoni · 3 years

Text

Let Me Adore You

Commissioned for @narutos-fat-meat

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Sero Hanta

Word Count: 2.6k

Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141784

Summary: “Instead of regretting what we cannot do, it is better to do what one can.” A meeting that runs against the time of death. A story about the short blossoming love between a kitsune and a dying human. Truly it’s beautiful in it’s own right.

Tags: angst, fluff, food, implied sexual interaction/intercourse, sad ending, death.

Conscious comes rather slow, sluggish like honey being squeezed out of a container. When Sero had finally woken up it wasn’t in his bed. And he wasn’t lying down but rather sitting on his knees in the nightwear he went to bed in. Beside him was a small basket he’d brought to bed with a bright yellow balloon, barely filled with air tied to the handle. He yawns loudly and blinks the sleep away before slowly rising to his feet.

Where he was a land bordering between two worlds. His world and something...entirely else. He remembers the first time he woke up here, frightened and lost as he wandered around the endless field. Green grass going miles and miles as far as the human eye could see, trees so tall and proud and lined up with impeccable symmetry that if Sero were a child he would’ve loved to sit on its sturdy branch and call out to friends below. The first time he’d had come here he was barefooted and prayed that it was all just a strange dream. It was what motivated him to keep running until bare legs touched the water of this world. What had brought him to the ocean? He didn’t know. He hadn’t even realized he was walking into the ocean until the salty seawater reached up the thighs of his scrawny limbs. The water was cold, incredibly cold. And all Sero could do was stand still and look out to the ocean that stretched far beyond the horizon.

It was heavenly and outrageously enthralling. The sky had a slash of purple rippling through the orange and pinks that decorated the air. Clouds swirled about and Sero could see the sphere of the sun in the far distance. It was as if someone had been given a paintbrush and had let their imagination run wild. The mesmerizing colors of the sky, shimmering so brightly in his onyx eyes that all Sero could do was sigh in awe. The air was crisp and clean, a far cry from the city. The building anxiety had just melted away.

“What are you doing here?” And then he’d met him. The voice, stoic and voided of life, reverberates through the air. It was slightly deep and authoritative enough to startle the meek human and caused Sero to fall in the water. Salt had filled his lungs for a few seconds before he came up for air, limbs thrashing and him gasping and snorting the water out of his system. His pajamas were stuck tight to his skin and his now wet hair obscured his vision.

He calls out “Who are you?” At the moment he didn’t get a look at the person. He was still busy gaining some proper footing. But when Sero had pushed his hair out his face with both hands he was surprised at what he saw. A kitsune, with neatly parted hair that reminded him of a candy cane. Heterochromatic eyes consisting of grey and blue, cold and stoic like his face. He was tall, taller than Sero and something about him screamed authority. There was a scar on his face that was somehow attractive in its own right and he wore a kimono dark enough to be mistaken for black with white petals adorning it spatially.

He was beautiful. Perhaps Sero would’ve enjoyed the view more if he weren’t informed that a human being so close to the shore meant that they were soon to die.

The basket bounced with each step Sero took until finally, a small traditional Japanese house came into view. If someone had told him that he started walking faster he wouldn’t deny it. It’s just that he was eager to see Todoroki that’s all. He never met a kitsune before, let alone one mysterious as him. The house was a decent size and the only thing besides land that Sero could spot, something about domains Todoroki had explained at one point. Upon reaching the house he opened the wooden gate and immediately went to the back as he did upon earlier occasions.

Peeping from behind he saw the kitsune sitting on a blanket with his eyes closed. His hands lay gently in his lap. Today he was wearing a white yukata, crisp and clean like freshly hung laundry. He looked to be at peace. A gentle breeze flows and it stirs the tranquility of his dual-colored hair. The words beautiful echo in Sero’s head as he steps forward. The soft crunching of the grass makes Todoroki’s ear visibly twitch and he slowly opens his eyes to see the scrawny human holding a basket out.

“Brought ya something.”

...

The two sat beside each other, Sero watching with dutiful eyes as the kitsune sunk his fangs into the meal he made. It was a steamed meat bun, no longer warm but just as tasty telling from the minuscule rising of Todoroki’s eyes. After spending time with him it’s gotten easier for Sero to pick out his little quirks. It made it easier to converse.

“It’s good. Thick and rich.” His Adam apple bobs when he swallows the rest of the treat down and Sero's eyes follow. His fluffy tails, four of which Sero found peculiar (Todoroki had explained he’s still young) poofed up and swayed as Todoroki stares down at him in expectation. The raven hair laughs, joyful and uncaring, and sets out another plate. The yellow balloon attached to the handle steadily grows as the two spend the night together. They talk about trivial things, mostly Sero taking and Todoroki humming but very much immersed in the conversation about his mundane life. Sero doesn’t miss how Todoroki leers at him when he talks about one of his friends. It puts him on edge but in all honesty, he already has one foot in the door.

When the yellow balloon is round and succulent, ready to pop he bids Todoroki a goodbye with a promise to bring the recipe on his next visit.

Todoroki is hesitant when Sero wags the strange pastry in front of him. The spices were strong and the wet, white, and gooey sugary substance dribbled down the sides of the bread and onto Sero’s fingers. Sero had called a cinnamon bun. And it would be rude of him to not eat what his...what was Sero to Todoroki? He never truly pondered the status of their relationship. Hanta Sero was an interesting human. Even knowing that his days are counted he comes with assortments from his world just to share with someone like him. The person who would lead him to the afterlife. It left a grime taste in his mouth when he thought that way but that was reality.

The way his onyx eyes twinkled, reflecting the colors of the sea. How silly he looked completely drenched like a dog. He was interesting from the very start. His stomach rumbles.

The human looks up at him, slanted eyes and an ordinary thin smile. The cinnamon bun is still in his hands. Todoroki bows down a bit and sinks his mouth on the sugary treat, his tongue grazing the tips of Sero’s fingers, eyes staring in human as he slowly consumes the food. He pulls off slowly, his gaze heated as he swallows. Sero had long since retracted his hand, face tinged red as the fur on Todoroki’s skin.

He licks his sharp nails of the sweetness, eye crinkling a bit as he hums in content. “It’s sweet.” If it were anyone else they would think Todoroki is stating the obvious, that the way his tail puffed out was simply a coincidence and that Sero was simply just a friend.

“I-I’m glad you liked it!” So what was Sero to Todoroki?

...

The next time they ate together Sero had used the kitchen in his home, this time bringing four balloons to extend his stay. Todoroki noticed how Sero despite being a decent height for a human had to tiptoe to reach the cabinets. His shirt would ride up a bit and he could see the outline of his scapula poking. The ears upon his head twitch at the thought of wrapping his arms around Sero. Would he jump in surprise at the embrace? Would Todoroki feel the poke of his bones against his chest? Or perhaps Sero would press into his touch and allow someone like him to give him warmth. His mind is in the cloud, thinking up small scenarios as the aroma of curry fills the air. He almost goes to ask but forgets when his name is called out.

Another time he visits the sky is dark with stars in the sky. Beautiful and speckled across the heavens. He would’ve adored the sight a bit more if Todoroki wasn’t sucking his lips dry. The kiss is wet and feverish, needy and consuming Sero’s oxygen. Sharp fangs nick Sero’s tongue and a soft moan is dragged out with little effort before Todoroki is gently shoved off. There's frustration in his eyes at being disturbed.

“Didn’t think you would be so forward Todoroki ~” the teasing of his voice earns him an uncharacteristic huff and the beautiful trails behind the kitsune flare a bit. “Is it wrong to claim what’s mine?” And although the words were flattering Sero wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t blind to the predator like stare Todoroki sent him when he thought he was looking. How Todoroki almost swallowed his finger whole. The purrs he lets out when Sero combs his tail. He was sure that there would have to be strong trust between a kitsune and the other for their tail to be touched. Like an honor or something. But at the same time, it felt like Todoroki was holding himself from enjoying. Well, at least tonight was a change of pace.

“No. Not at all” he finally answered. Just how much time did he have left? His brows furrow in disdain but he snaps out of his when he feels his shorts being tugged down.

“Pay attention.” Shouto shifts himself upward to loosen his yukata, the fabric slipping out in a lewd manner. There was low rumbling in Shouto’s chest as pins Sero down. He was sure at some point he had lost consciousness after what happened.

Sero wondered idly the next day that if they were in his house would the neighbors hear him scream.

...

“So why did you live all alone here?” This time a green balloon was attached to a tree branch as they sat together, staring outward into the pretty landscape. Their pinkies were connected, an option much preferred than full on hand-holding. Todoroki doesn’t answer, at least not at first. It takes a while to break down his walls, Sero notes for each time he visits. So instead of answering Todoroki stares into the vast scenery of yellow and orange. For a second a flash of pain filters through his eyes but it is gone before Sero notices.

His answer makes Sero laugh. A very soft and ebullient laugh that makes Todoroki’s cheeks tinge ever so delicately. It’s weaker than before.

“I guess I like to be alone.”

...

It’s two weeks till Sero’s next visit and Todoroki idly wonders if he miscalculated when Sero would pass away. And even if he did he would’ve known, he would’ve felt it. Tending to the garden by himself wasn't out of the ordinary but he missed scolding Sero for slacking off or hissing when he sometimes jumps on his back to scare the poor yokai. When he finally saw Sero trekking up the hill no he did not pounce him and no he didn’t nuzzle into his chest. Todoroki was not on the verge of crying...although he did like it immensely when Sero coos at how cute he was. It was a rare sight, a large fox-like creature straggling in the lap of a sick human. He didn’t even notice the plastic wristband on Sero’s arm.

Fate was fickle and mocking at its victim was it not?

...

“You smell strange.”

“Yeah, the hospital got a strange smell. Bunch of old people and chemicals and stuff.”

“You look tired.” Someone yawns. “I guess I am.”

“Would you care to rest beside me?”

“...I don’t think I'll be coming back here.”

“I know. It’s my job to guide you across the ocean and I’ll fulfill it to the end.”

“Hanta.” He gets a strange look. “Call me Hanta.” “Then call me Shouto.”

...

A bunch of balloons, so many with messages and with flowers that Shouto immediately recognizes when Hanta wakes up by the shore. The calling was already having the human walk in the shivering waters. He swallows the lump in his throat. People die all the time, it's normal.

He’s led so many people across the shore but never once had a human fed him as Hanta did. Laughed when there was nothing to laugh about. Asked questions that he’d no doubt not get an answer to. He never gave up. He was an ordinary person...no; an extraordinary person to Shouto. He loved him. He loved him so fucking much that it hurts, that the greedy side of him wanted to lock Hanta up in his house for good. But it wasn’t possible. It never was.

“Shouto!” He was waving at the kitsune. Hanta wore a smug smile on his face, the hospital gown fluttering just above the water. His hair was neatly combed down and Todoroki fought the urge to kiss his forehead. Instead, he stood a few steps away on the sand, arms full of flowers. He stares and stares at Sero with a gloomy emanation. He finally understood his resolve. How could he not realize it? “Hanta I love you.”

“I love your cooking, how you laugh, your eyes—everything!” His cheeks felt warm. Warm like when Hanta had first kissed his cheek. Warm like how the food filled his growling stomach. Burning like their night of passion. He blabbers on, more vocal and more vulnerable than he’s ever been in centuries. “I love you. So so much...I didn’t want to say it because I knew this would happen! I was lonely but you changed that.” There’s a crack in his voice when he confesses. The swarm of regret and insecurities, the love he held for this human. He has so many secrets he wishes to share with Hanta. If only they had more time.

He steps into the water, careful not to get his clothes wet but it backfires when Sero drags him in, laughing and snorting when he falls headfirst. “About time you said it! I was waiting for like forever!” Shouto rises from the water, tails, and ears flatten down as he looks up at Sero. Under the bags of his eyes, he could see them crinkle with blissful happiness and content. How melancholic was this moment indeed? Just like those few months back when they first met. Only this time it was Hanta pushing Shouto’s hair out of his face to leave a very long and loving kiss on hips pretty lips. It was sweeter than any cinnamon bun, lovelier than the times they spent in bed, and painful too.

It was breathtaking. Shouto’s tails were sagging in the water and his knees were going numb from the cold but he minds it not. When they pull away for air Hanta is rubbing his fingers across the ugly scar on his face.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

So what was Sero to Todoroki?

His first love.

Instead of regretting what we cannot do, it is better to do what one can.

Author Note: A few things I’d like to mention. I had to rewrite this so many times because it just wasn’t clicking. The first idea was for Todoroki to eat Sero’s heart and fall in love with him but I didn’t like it. The balloons and the ability to meet someone in a dream is a reference to xxxHolic. By bringing or taking stuff in the dream world it’ll appear or disappear in the real world and vice versa. In the series, it was said that the balloon held dreams so I went okay this time the balloons symbolize how long you can stay in the dreamland. When the person awakens the balloon pops. Lastly, the shore was a reference to Toilet Bound Hanako Kun.

Finally, that last quote was by Yuuko Ichihara, a character from xxxHolic. I’m really glad that this commission gave me free will and I hope y’all enjoyed the somber ending as I did.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto #shoto torodoki #sero hanta #hanta sero #bnha sero #mha sero #mha todoroki #bnha rarepairs #todoroki x sero #sero x todoroki

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krystaldragonart · 4 years

Text

@ryukotoweek day 2: athletics (Bonus: Father’s Day!!)

Short Fanfic included: “Fourth Place Prize”

This time around has been intense. The running, the crowd. He can see the finish line up ahead. He has hit a wall long ago, and he can tell he’s been slipping up at the very end. But, it doesn't matter now, as his family cheers him on from the distance, waving their hands telling him to keep going. He shoots a wide grin, picking up the very pace he needed to finish…

Fourth place.

He stops, bending over to catch as much breath as he needs. Sweat drips off of him like rain, his breathing was raspy as he was lent a towel to wipe himself off. He was definitely sweating from his neck and pits, and the remaining racers approached him with a good sort of sportsmanship.

“Sakamoto-San, it’s nice racing with you! You did very well compared to the practice run before.”

The faux blonde nodded, giving off a rough laugh and wise smile, patting his shoulder. “Man you were awesome though. I bet you made your family proud.”

The other racer made a soft laugh. “I sure hope so. This is the first time I made it this far. Honestly, Sakamoto, I have to thank you. You’ve been pushing me way farther than I could do myself. You have my gratitude.”

Even though Ryuji haven’t made it to the top himself, he felt just as proud helping someone to reach that point, as it makes it all worthwhile. “Hey, you’re still young, ok? It’s the least I could do. Now go and celebrate to your heart’s content. Just don’t go overboard though!”

The two shared a laugh, as the racer champ sets up to gather with the others. “Thank you, and you go have fun yourself!”

“Sure will….” He watches from the distance, smiling proudly as he continues drying himself with the towel, discarding it with the rest. He then hears a familiar shrieking sound, turning towards the direction as he sees a boy running up to him.

“Daddy!!”

“Hey, there’s my little kiddo! Did you enjoy watching the race?”

Ryuji kneels down to catch Tatsuo in his arms, seeing his mother, daughter and wife walking their way towards them. He couldn’t smile any wider as he then slowly stands up and waves a hello.

“It was awesome! You really showed the slowpokes who’s the real racer!” The daughter, Nyoko, caught up with the rest making a running stance to show what she meant. The son nodded in agreement, looking behind him hoping the others would catch up.

“I have to say, I guess seeing us cheering really brought the best in you in that last lap. You really did great out there, and we’re all proud.” Makoto gently comes up and kisses him on the cheek, giving off a genuine smile.

“Thank you guys. Just seeing you coming was the best part of the race. Sorry squirt, I guess I didn’t make the top three like I promised.” He looks over at his son, rustling his hair showing his appreciation. He mentioned to him multiple times like he would, saying he’ll sure to win a medal and take it home. The son just shook his head in response.

“It’s okay dad, I have even something better anyways!” Tatsuo takes off his backpack that he had on him from school, setting it down before him. “Now, kneel as I give you your most ultimate prize to date!” The boy declared, almost too adorable to be taken seriously.

The blonde father just scratched his head amusingly before kneeling. “Alright, you have my humble presence.” He played along, even bowing his head slowly so he could give his son some time to take out whatever he would have, not spoiling himself on the sort he may be showing right away.

“Don’t peek-!” He slowly takes out the prize, looking over at his dad to make sure he wasn’t looking.

“Heh, no worries, I’m not peeking.” He then kept his eyes closed, showing his trust. He has him take as much time as he needs, he can hear him shaking the item as if he’s trying to straighten it out. Shortly after, he felt his arms over his shoulders, a strap then lays around his neck with a sort of clanging noise. As the son was finally done, he took a few steps back.

“Ok, open your eyes!”

Ryuji did just so, looking down and seeing a rather matted shine on his chest. He holds it up with one palm for a closer look, a gray plastic like badge tied with a strap he felt earlier. He smiled warmly, looking up to Tatsuo as he seemed eager to know what he thinks.

“Wow, this is for me?” He asked with a surprised tone. “I love it! I’ll cherish it and have it be the start of my future medal collection!”

The boy just smiled proudly, crossing his arms and looking over at the sister. “See! I told you he’ll love it!”

“And, what’s this?” He noticed some glitter was on his hands, then looked at the strap that’s covered in it. “You added some special sparkles to make it extra special!?”

“Uhh…” Tatsuo looks at his sister once more, like he’s irritated about it. “That was Nyoko’s doing. I hold her not to since it wouldn’t look good. But she went and did it anyway, without me looking.” He shoots a glare at her, as she only laughed in response.

“Well I think it’s great!” Ryuji responded cheerfully. “Sometimes it’s better to add that little extra shine to make it stand out more. You can never go wrong with that.” He then stretches his arms out, offering a hug to his kids as they gladly come over to return one. “This is the best you guys, thank you!”

Makoto couldn’t help but place her hand over her smile on the ‘aww’ moment with the kids giggling, Ryuji’s mom seeing her reaction and chuckled lightly.

“You kids are so innocent these days. Wait till they get older sweety, it’ll be from tender moments to raging attitudes. But I’m sure you'll be just fine.” The mom mentions, knowing that teenagers are more unpleasant but also requires more heartening to take care of.

Makoto rolls her eyes on that thought. “That’s why I’ll want to spend as much time with them while their youth lasts. Unlike me, I won’t make them grow up too fast and have to deal with things they don’t need to yet, until the time is right of course.”

“Oh, knowing you I’d thought you would already be teaching them how to do their taxes!” The mother laughed, knowing Makoto being a serious type when it comes to educating her kids.

She just shook her head, returning a laugh. “No, Ryuji would totally be against the idea of intense work like that at such a young age. Not that I blame him of course. He says that fun is another kind of ‘work’, and therefore more important with their age. Honestly, he amuses me with those quirky answers.”

The mother just nods, smiling on the subject. “He wants them to live happily while possible. You two know how cruel the world can be. It’s only fair for him to make certain they enjoy their best times before realizing so.”

Makoto understands the matter, and smiles over to her. “Well, Nyoko seems to take interest in sports, we have been showing her the ways with that. Ryuji, mainly.”

“I’m glad she got herself a hobby. For all we know you may just be raising a future delinquent.”

“Oh- mother…” Makoto facepalmed on that thought, never wanted to think of it that way. The mother just laughed as Ryuji stood back up, ready to go.

“But boy am I starvin’? I gotta get my energy back! Where should we eat?” Ryuji decided to ask, getting the kids all excited about the idea.

“Big Bang burger!” Tatsuo mentions, already eager for the idea of a burger.

“Awww but we should go to LeBlanc! We haven’t been there in forever!” Nyoko retorts, as she favors Boss and his delicious curry that she always orders.

“Well what’s wrong with Auntie Sae’s place?” Makoto asked, almost as if she was offended. “She does enjoy having you two around.”

The kids just paused, showing no mere interest in coming over. “Sorry, but I think grandma is better when it comes to cooking.” The daughter said bluntly, making the rest of the family laugh out loud. Someone should get her a Coolifier Pad when they have a chance.

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fandom-collective-writers · 5 years

Text

Ieyasu x Reader

Title: "Better than Curry"

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Genre: Modern AU

Warnings: Smut

Written by: @rikumorimachisgirl

A/N: His PoV

Other notes: Hope you like this, Anon!

Word count: 2,047

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I came home to an empty apartment a little past nine in the evening. Except for the pin lights by the door and at the corner of the living room where Wasabi's bed is set up, the whole place was dark.

'That's odd, ' I thought as I walked inside the quiet apartment I shared with my girlfriend. Usually, she would be sprawled on the couch munching on chips while reading one of her mangas or watching another one of those popular samurai dramas she's so crazy about. Whenever I'd come home, no matter how late it was, she'd be here - she'd just be here waiting - and then she'd take off like a madwoman and hold me like I was some prodigal child who had just returned after decades or something. I ran my fingers along with the backrest of the vacant couch and thought about how she would force me to sit beside her and listen to her go on and on about how her day went, despite knowing that I had also come home from a long day at the lab. I found myself smiling wryly at the memory of how pouty I usually was five minutes into her story. 'What the heck is wrong with me, ' I asked myself. Maybe I'm just hungry.

I moved to the kitchen, and gazed at the matching dinnerware she insisted on buying for us when we had first moved in together. I then wondered when we had last shared a meal together. Lately, I've been neck-deep in research on the new anti-Cancer drug that my boss has invested in, and my work hours have been longer than usual. 'She, on the other hand…'. Before I was able to complete that thought, my stomach growled loudly, Wasabi, who had just approached to greet me, scampered off. Sighing, I looked at the cupboard and fridge for the ingredients I needed to make nice, home-cooked curry rice. Surely, it couldn't be that hard - I had all the ingredients, so I'm just gonna mix them all up like she usually does. 'Easy peasy, ' I thought as I rolled up my sleeves and proceeded to cook.

Twenty minutes later, the fire alarm went off, and I heard someone hurry inside the apartment.

"Oh my God, Ieyasu!" My girlfriend called out to me with panic written all over her pretty face. "What happened here?"

"Nothing. " I shrugged, as I turned off the stove. "The fire alarm is so dramatic. I hardly burned the -"

"Are you crazy? There's smoke everywhere! Did you even turn the exhaust on?"

Ugh. Too many questions! I shot my girlfriend a sidelong glance to let her know she's yapping too much. She hasn't stopped talking and moving about, which is strange. She usually picks up my non-verbal cues pretty easily.

"Ieyasu!"

Her voice startled me, and I staggered back a little bit when I saw her staring at me up close. Immediately, I straightened up and looked at her smugly. "You're too loud."

"I'm sorry, but you weren't responding when I called out to you. I was offering to cook. You want to eat curry, right?"Judging by her clipped tone, I knew she was trying her best not to lose her cool. I also knew that in these instances, I should just keep quiet and let her be, but for some reason, I couldn't help but mutter, "It's about time" under my breath.

I sat by the counter and pretended to check my emails on my mobile while she busied herself in the kitchen. Despite having been together for over a year, I still couldn't bring myself to tell her that every little thing she does makes me happy - from caring for Wasabi to preparing packed lunches and making sure my clothes were freshly laundered and pressed every day.

As I watched her chop the potatoes she was going to use for my meal, I couldn't help but notice that something was amiss, and I quietly observed her find out what it was. Just as I was trying to figure out what was wrong, Wasabi calmly walked over to her and bumped her nose behind my busy girlfriend's leg.

"Oh, hello Wasabi, " she said, as she placed the knife on the chopping board and turned her attention to the sweet little deer behind her. "Have you eaten? I'm sorry I can't hang out with you yet…"

When she spoke, I realized it was the sound of her sweet voice that was missing the whole time. My girlfriend is a chatterbox - she always has a story to tell or something ridiculous to ask - but right now, her silence was unsettling. There were so many questions I wanted to ask - are you okay? Is there a problem? What's bothering you? Why don't you talk to me about it?

"Why'd you come home so late?" I decided to ask.

She stopped petting Wasabi, and I saw her waver for a bit before she met my gaze. She gave me a small smile, but I could see past that.

"Well?"

I saw her shoulders drop and knew something was wrong. She sighed. "Remember the promotion I applied for last month? Well, my boss told me I wasn't ready for it and gave it to someone else."

I never hated myself so much for not noticing sooner. My girlfriend - the love of my life - was feeling down, and there I was waiting for her to cook dinner for me. I'm such a jerk!

I rose from my seat and walked over to her and took her hand in mine. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright." She squeezed my hand and tried to put on a brave face. "Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm not ready for it…"

"Don't be too hard on yourself -"

"I wanted to move up so badly because I want you to be proud of me, " she said, as a stray tear fell down her cheek.

But she may have as well hit me in the gut. I stared at her, speechless for a couple of seconds before I held her in my arms. "What are you talking about? I'm proud of you, " I whispered to her hair as I held her close. "I'm always proud of you."

Dammit, how could she not know how proud I am? I wanted to shake her back to her senses so badly, but when I looked at her, I saw her staring back at me with so much longing in her eyes, I knew I had to do something. Fast.

I held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, Princess, " I racked my brains to find the right words to say, and she held her breath. "I love you. You have no idea how good you make me feel…"

And that was the last thing I said before I cupped her face with my hands and claimed her mouth. I heard her gasp in surprise but didn't protest. When I felt her kiss me back, I decided to take it a step further and plunged my tongue into her mouth, probing and playing with hers. She responded in kind, and I walked us out of the kitchen, occasionally breaking our kiss to come up for air. I took her coat off and tossed it aside, and my fingers fumbled on the buttons of her blouse, as I tried to make quick work of it. I heard her giggle, and felt her hand over mine, as she helped me take the offending item off her without having to tear it apart.

I palmed her breasts and removed my mouth from hers so I could suck on her perfectly pink buds. I started with her right nipple, licking and sucking greedily until she moaned and bucked against me. I felt her hands rake through my hair, coaxing me to give her other nipple equal attention.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes, " she moaned, pulling my head closer to her breasts. "Baby don't stop…"

The back of her legs hit the couch and I carefully set her on it. "Just sit back, " I whispered before I knelt in front of her and guided her legs over my shoulders and nestled between them. The scent of her arousal called to me, and I didn't have to guess to figure out how wet she was. From this position, I could see her staring at me wide-eyed, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly messy.

"Ieyas-"

Before she had a chance to finish what she was going to say, I pulled her panties aside and ran my tongue along her wet slit. After hearing her moan, I gently parted her folds and continued to lick her wetness. I felt her hands on my hair as she rocked her hips against my tongue, eager to get off.

"There, baby… right there, " I heard her say as I slowly trailed my tongue over her clit, looking at her as she threw her head back with her eyes closed, shamelessly rubbing her pussy on my face as she palmed her breasts, and pinched her nipples. "Ieyasu, please… I want… harder - more…"

"Are you close, Princess?" I asked in between French kissing her lower lips.

"Almost, baby… I'm -"

Without warning, I slipped my tongue inside her and ran my thumb over her clit. Her eyes flew wide open, and her toes curled as she let out a loud moan and I lapped on her juices as she continued to ride her orgasm.

As soon as she came down from her high, I sat back and admired her. My sweet girl looked flushed. Half-naked with her skirt pushed up, her undies still on, and the sheen of sweat on her lithe body, she looked a hundred times sexier than ever. I was aware of my arousal building up and my cock becoming hard under my trousers at the sight of my love looking so uninhibited.

"That was fantastic, " she said, still catching her breath.

I moved up and cupped the back of her neck with my hand. "You taste fantastic, " I said and kissed her hard once again, slipping my tongue in her mouth so she could taste her essence. When she sucked on my tongue and unzipped my trousers, I knew I was done for.

"Ieyasu, please…"

She didn't have to beg me a second time. My cock sprang to life as soon as I tugged my pants down. Tearing off her panties, I lifted her and positioned her on top of my throbbing member. She eagerly lowered herself on me, taking all of me in one swift motion.

"You're so wet, " I moaned.

"You're so big, " she responded before capturing my lips in a deep kiss. I placed my hands on her pelvis and guided her as she bounced up and down the length of my cock, slowly at first and then gradually increasing our pace. For a while, the only sounds we heard were the slapping of our skin against each other and our breathless moans.

She was close, I could tell. And I was close to spilling, too. We've never done it bare before, so I knew I had to pull out, but she made no move to stop.

"Princess, " I said, trying to catch my breath. "I'm close. I need to pull out -"

"No, " she said, grinding her hips against me, "I want you to cum inside me. Please…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, " she said, before throwing her head back as she hit her orgasm. "Yes, yes, yes…"

I felt her clamp around my cock, and I followed shortly after, grunting as I shot my seed deep inside her.

As she came down from her high, she slumped against my chest and smiled. "Baby, " she said, as she peered at my face sleepily. "Sorry about dinner."

I laughed and kissed her lips lightly. "Doesn't matter, " I said, holding her tightly. "I had something much better than curry."

End.

#ikemen sengoku fanfic #ikesen fanfic #ikesen ieyasu #ieyasu x reader

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mybukz · 5 years

Text

Pride Month Fiction: The Checkered Shirt of Benny Khoo and the Salmon Sampin of Adam Tan by Kok Fuk Hoe

Finally, I got to know Mr Benny. The one Ms Sophia praised over and over during my interview.

It was the first day of school. Teachers and students were coming in and out from the staffroom but I couldn’t be bothered. Things were piling up on my plate. However, I was eager to find out about Mr Benny. Ms Sophia, the human resource manager, had told me about him while explaining my contract—apparently Mr Benny was the only teacher offered a permanent position before the six-month probation. He seemed to possess some supreme teaching methods that wowed his students—he managed to nail a place in this distinguished school in just two months!

This morning I was thrilled—his name plate sat on the table behind mine. I was sure when he came in, he would notice someone new. Even more so when I was sitting right behind him, back to back.

I felt the chair behind me lean against mine. I smiled and got ready to expect some welcome, maybe a grin and motivation. But nothing happened. I stood up and turned around.

“Hi, I am Adam. Nice to know you. I am the new teacher.” I proffered my hand to the back of his head.

He was eating yoghurt and looking at his laptop screen. I reached out for his shoulder. He stiffened, frowned and darted a glance at my hand. He didn’t seem to like talking to me. But darn it, I had expected him to talk to me.

I withdrew my hand; I had been too forward. Then he got up. He went to the fridge and came back with another yoghurt. I stood looking like an idiot.

Then he turned around, looked at me, and shook my hand, limply. “Nice to know you too, and…Welcome to the school.”

I smiled a thanks despite the rudeness. “I teach English as a Second Language for the Year 8 classes. How about you?”

“Year 9. English as a First Language.” Benny remained straight-faced as he stuck one earphone into an ear.

His etiquette fazed me. “Ms Sophia kept mentioning your name during my interview. You must be a very famous teacher.”

“Nah, they’re just exaggerating. You just do what you have to do.”

His replies were short and he didn’t care to talk more. His eyes kept going back to his screen; he wanted to continue watching ice hockey. I quickly ended our conversation and turned back to my desk. I felt cheated by Ms Sophia’s description. This Mr Benny was worse than his yoghurt. At least yoghurt tasted sour— he was just plain cold.

It wasn’t hard to glean more about Mr Benny since we worked in the same department and shared the same staffroom. Except for his gravelly Canadian accent (I loved it!), I found out he was just weird.

Benny usually clocked in fifteen minutes later than me. He would have a cup of black coffee—those paper cup instant coffee from 7-Eleven—and some sandwich made of wheat bread. His breakfast routine had to be accompanied by watching his favourite ice hockey show. Finishing his food, he would pump two drops of sanitiser to clean his hand. He never joined anyone for lunch; he brought some delicate-looking meals in a jar, or some steamed corn, or some purplish salad, and of course, there was this cleaning his hand with sanitiser after his meals.

I had never seen him go to a toilet. All he did was teach in the classroom or sit in his cubicle watching ice hockey or sometimes marking exercise books. Mr Benny didn’t talk much to anyone. He would skip reliefs or after-school meetings. And the strangest thing? No one dared talk about this to him. Not even the Head of Secondary.

I couldn’t hide my curiosity about this Chinese Canadian guy. As soon as I adapted to the school, I started asking around about him.

“Why is Benny never joining us for lunch? It is free though.”

“I guess he can’t adapt to Malaysian food. He is an ang mo lah! The foreigners’ stomach can’t hold our curry and spices,” Mr Loke answered. He had straggly hair, taught mathematics.

“But he has been here for seven years and his wife is Malaysian. He should be able to adapt to the food here. It’s not like the school is cooking spicy food all the time. He can eat Chinese food. He is a Chinese after all. Come on,” Mr Goh chimed in, while serving a spoonful of chap chye into his mouth. He was artistic, taught arts and craft.

“He is a C-A-N-A-D-I-A-N, Mr Goh. It is more atas or high-class to be identified that way,” Mr Loke scoffed, failing to hide his sarcasm.

“I guess his wife prepares his food then?”

“Oh yes. His wife worked in this school last time but she resigned after they married. She is a nyonya,” Mr Loke continued to tell me more.

I frowned, I couldn’t understand how Benny’s life worked. “But Peranakan food is made up of tonnes of local spices and is mostly spicy and pungent in smell. So how did he survive the marriage?”

“Adui, Adam, you single people won’t understand this. You will do everything if you are in love. And obviously in his case, his wife loves him more than he does. And come to think of it, it actually saves a lot of time to prep him an overnight oat rather than cooking a decent meal. No one loves cooking these days. Not even my wife,” Mr Goh continued chewing the school food.

Mr Loke ranted, “His wife is the one who chased after him last time. I can’t deny that when I first knew Benny, his Canadian accent really attracted me but well, I am a man. But Jesus, I had no fucking idea that he is so lazy. He skips meetings and events, and he doesn’t even care about his homeroom. Handsome guy is pretty useless, huh?”

“But why the school likes him so much?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he is an ang mo?”

Or maybe it was because of his Canadian accent.

Or maybe Benny looked extremely hot for an Asian: only five feet tall, slim, inimitable foreign accent. God, he looked hot in Doc Martens leather boots. Could Asians carry it off with leather?

Or maybe Benny was hot because he didn’t give a fuck about anything in the school. I guessed you’d look cool when everyone was busy pleasing the students, parents and management and you decided not to follow the trend. Instead you just acted like a real man. And real man takes risks. And Benny was a real man.

Or maybe he fucked Ms Sophia? Was Ms Sophia his wife? Because it would make sense since Ms Sophia was always raving about him being an awesome teacher and whatnot. Or maybe Ms Kelly, our Head of Department. Or Ms Vijay, the Head of Secondary.

I didn’t know the answers.

A week before the midterm-cum-Raya holidays, I decided to put on a black baju Melayu. I matched it with a salmon sampin, and completed my look with a songkok. I looked like a real Malay whenever I put on the costumes because of my skin colour.

I am a Chinese as you can tell from my name, Adam Tan. However, my dark skin is not a result of sunburn or sun tan. I inherited this beautiful skin colour from my Chinese and Indonesian Chinese ancestors. We are the Chinese Peranakan, or the baba nyonya, an ethnic group fast disappearing because people no longer cross cultures.

It is confusing and sometimes, shocking, to not know how to respond to an entity that doesn’t truly belong to anyone and anywhere. Just like Benny—he was Chinese Canadian but he didn’t know how to speak Chinese like Mr Loke and Mr Goh. He married a Malaysian but had problems eating Malaysian food. And the most confusing thing was, he spoke good English. Asians don’t speak good English, they say.

Thus, everyone liked to stay the same because it was easier that way. Even in the workplace. Except Benny, of course.

Everyone was at the lounge, laughing, taking pictures and chit-chatting away. There was no food; it was still five days away before our Muslim colleagues stopped observing fasting and celebrated the Raya celebration.

As usual, Benny was never keen to join in the fun. He didn’t care about celebrations. I was surprised he put an appearance now. He had put on his usual checkered shirt—this time, in black and white—and leather boots. I ignored him and turned my back to him.

Someone patted my shoulder. I turned around and was taken aback to find Benny talking to me. To little old Adam.

“Hey Adam, you look exceptionally sharp today.” I was still in shock, I couldn’t process his words suddenly.

“Oh yeah. Thank you. Have you tried wearing such a costume? It is comfortable.” I smiled, awkwardly, like a little child.

“No. I never wore them before.”

“You should try one day. It is—”

“Hey Adam, I need a favour from you.”

I knew it. He was up to no good. He talked to me simply because he needed something.

“How can I help you?” My face had changed from awkward to looking flustered.

He looked hesitant for a moment. “My car broke down this morning and I couldn’t go back today.”

“You want me to send you back?” I was one step close to exploding if the answer was yes.

“No. Can I stay at your place before my wife picks me up this evening? I heard that you are living somewhere around Puchong. I stay in Puchong. You don’t have to send me back.”

My anger diminished. At least he knew it would be a bad idea for me to send him back. He was never part of us, and he never wanted it, I guess.

I had just entered my room when Benny knocked on my door.

“Do you need anything? If not, let me change myself before I—”

Benny pressed his lips onto mine. They were soft and moist. I kissed him back, like a hungry beast, devouring his saliva, tongue, and lips. My cock in my pants was filling up with blood.

But I pulled back. “What the fuck is this, Benny?” I was huffing and puffing from the kiss.

“I knew you like me.” The sentence sounded racy in his ang mo accent.

“How did you know?”

“I just know.” He looked down. “Are those stains from your cum? Imagining me fucking you every night?” He sneered. “You do, don’t you?”

Benny hoisted me with strong hands and threw me onto the bed. Why was this happening? But, fuck, was I going to savour this moment. I licked my lips as Benny’s body—and his dick—hunkered over me.

Benny tore at the buttons from his shirt, and hurled his clothes to the floor. This was the first time I saw his body—lean and fit. His nipples were big and dark, and there was hair all the way down from his belly button to the place I wanted to visit the most. Sexy.

He straddled my lithe body, and unravelled my tight sampin. He leaned down and I savoured his kiss, and breathed in his body odour. I wasted no time fumbling at his belt—I wanted to taste his dick.

Soon, my sampin was flung to the floor. And in no time, my baju Melayu, sampin, and undies, along with his shirts and pants, decorated the floor. I felt masculinity suffuse me—the tight stomach squashing me, the hard pecs, the nipples, the big balls. I reached down to grip him—his dick was huge. What a contradiction from his slender body—was that why he attracted us? I was dying to suck his dick, like a hungry baby craving for tits.

I moaned, breathed heavily, my body arched up, twitching—his fingers were caressing my nipples, pulling them, twisting them. I stroked my dick while his thick shaft stayed in my mouth. He thrust his dick against my mouth. When he drew it out, I licked the purplish head. Was I tasting my saliva or his pre-cum? At this rate I didn’t care—my pre-cum had doused my dick, I couldn’t wait to have Benny in me.

Benny flipped me over. He was ready with a condom. He must have come prepared with it in his pants pocket. He rolled it over his cock with skill. (And practice?) He held my legs up in the air. I begged him to shove it in. I needed pounding. Hard.

I moaned louder. I couldn’t stop crying out his name. I had never felt anything this intense. Not since becoming a teacher, a job that drained my energy having to man up all the time in front of the classroom. Now, I wanted to be punished. I wanted to be conquered. My body longed to be controlled and Benny was doing a great job. (I nearly giggled—as good a job as his teaching.)

I moaned every time Benny pounded into me and slapped my butt and uttered nasty words. Slut. Horny dog. Slave, Benny my master. I begged for more. This was my primal self. I needed an alpha male (with a sexy Canadian accent) to take charge, especially in bed. As if agreeing to submit, my dick rose higher, grew harder. Its hole overflowed every time Benny’s gigantic dick locked fiercely and tightly into my asshole. I didn’t mind dying under such circumstances. I was blessed to be pounded by such a huge dick—more so as its owner was skilled.

It seemed surreal when we both reached orgasm together. We huffed and gasped for air, surfacing for consciousness after shooting loads of cum. Benny didn’t pull his dick out; he remained inside, lying on top of me. I hugged and kissed him, feeling his heartbeat synchronising with mine. Between the layer of his sweat and my cum, I knew I wanted him.

“Why this?” I asked. “Why now?”

“You looked sexy in your sampin today. And I just wanted to fuck you. I love exotic creatures.” Benny grinned.

“Wow, I am offended, Benny. My sampin is short because I am single. Those who are married will wear their sampin below the knees. I don’t mean to look sexy.” And with mock offense, “I am not some exotic creature.”

“Well, that’s why I am attracted to you, little Adam. You look cute whenever you are annoyed.”

Benny kissed my lips. I knew we were alike—misfit, eccentric, offbeat. We didn’t really belong anywhere, or maybe the universe had yet to categorise people like us since we could be anything and everything we wanted to be. Benny didn’t give a shit about anything and I too didn’t give a shit about everything.

And this meant one thing: Benny wouldn’t give a shit about our status after this evening.

It was the first day of school after the holidays. I arrived at 5.30a.m. as usual, and it was dark.

I walked down the corridor. I saw the staffroom was already lit up. Someone had come in earlier.

I walked towards the staffroom. Two silhouettes were framed behind the glass door. I held my breath and slowed my footsteps. I didn’t want to alert these figures.

I leaned nearer to the door, squinted into the half-lit room. To my horror, I made out Benny humping someone at the lounge.

Damn it, I knew it. He didn’t give a fuck about anything. He would fuck anything. I clenched my fist. Who was that under him?

I couldn’t see; the lounge was not in the light. All I could make out was Benny’s top half.

I stood on tiptoes, and stretched my neck to see if a girl or boy. It was all shadows but I could spy Benny’s dick moving in and out between the legs.

But wait, where were Benny’s legs? He was standing, wasn’t he?

Benny turned around and locked eyes with me. They were dark and hollow. He smirked and the lights went off.

* This is Kok Fuk Hoe’s first attempt at writing erotica. He welcomes any comments from readers. He will answer any questions.

#pride month #LGBTQ #short story #malaysian fiction #malaysian literature #Kok Fuk Hoe #Pride Month Fiction: The Checkered Shirt of Benny Khoo and the Salmon Sampin of Adam Tan

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dazaran · 6 years

Text

Days worth celebrating

relationship: Edogawa Ranpo & Izumi Kyouka rating: G genre: fluff / family fluff AO3 link: here!

summary: Kyouka hears Lucy talking about Mother's day and is reminded of her own, while Ranpo finds her drifting amidst her thoughts.

“Today’s the day, the sweet curry day, the sweet curry day for meee,” Ranpo’s obnoxious, made up song echoes down the empty staircase as he makes his way down by himself. Everyone else in the agency is busy or off doing a case, and while Ranpo isn’t the type to enjoy doing anything alone, he at least can humor himself with the company of those on the first floor cafe. They’re always more than eager to talk to him about his day, his work, or whatever is happening in the city at the moment. The gossip of older people is something he finds very entertaining, really - old people have a knack for hearing anything and everything from one another.

His singing continues as he hops out onto the sidewalk, but he soon freezes outside the window when he notices a familiar small head of black hair sitting alone at a booth. That was... Kyouka-chan, wasn’t it?

Ranpo glances around the inside of the cafe through the window. Atsushi isn’t around for once, which is surprising in itself. His eyes narrow with a hum, and he moves to enter the cafe with a cheerful wave of his hand. “Miss waitress, two slices of strawberry cake for me and Kyouka-chan, and one coffee for me!”

Sweet curry doesn’t fit the mood for addressing Kyouka alone, he thinks.

The waitress - a middle aged woman, curvy, but not overweight - laughs gently at his exuberant greeting. “Energetic as always, hm, Ranpo-san? Your coffee is 6 sugars and three creams as usual, right?”

“You got it! Thank you!”

Though, really, it’s just an excuse to get her across the room so she doesn’t hear anything Ranpo says as he takes a seat in the booth directly across from Kyouka. There’s a cold cup of tea in front of her given the lack of steam, and her eyes are looking down into the reflection the drink creates.

“No Atsushi-kun today, Kyouka-chan?” Ranpo asks, folding his hands on the table with a smile.

Kyouka shakes her head. “He said he had to go find Dazai-san.”

The detective rolls his eyes. Well, that’s clearly a lost cause. Dazai could be anywhere because of his eccentric way of thinking, and Atsushi wasn’t the best at narrowing down ideal spots for him to be hiding. No wonder she’s by herself.

That doesn’t explain why she has such a distant look on her face, though.

“Something bothering you?” His words are both a question and a statement. No one can hide anything from him, especially not Kyouka. A former assassin she may be, she was still a child - a blunt and honest one at that. (She reminds Ranpo of himself quite a bit.)

Kyouka starts to shake her head, but seems to realize lying is a lost cause before she even starts. She looks up through her bangs to meet Ranpo’s gaze - his green eyes look back at her calmly, reassuring even. She lifts a hand to grip at the cellphone hanging around her neck, then glances towards the counter where Lucy is walking out of the storeroom with a box of supplies.

“... Earlier, she was on the phone with someone.” Kyouka starts softly, and Ranpo turns to glance at Lucy himself. “It was about Mother's Day.”

It only takes a second for Ranpo to put the pieces together, and he gives a small ‘ah’. “So you’re thinking about your mother.”

Kyouka nods slightly in affirmation.

The head waitress walks over with a tray in hand and a smile on her face. Ranpo looks up with a sudden, beaming smile, giving a happy ‘thank you~’ as she sets down the slices of cake and his coffee. There’s some sort of relief to be felt when Kyouka’s eyes light up a bit at the cake presented before her, and Ranpo smiles over the rim of his coffee.

“Thank you, Ranpo-san...” Kyouka mumbles quietly, lifting her fork to dig into the soft cake. She seems more intent on stabbing at it than eating it at the moment.

Ranpo studies her face for a moment, then sets down his coffee. “Are you feeling down because you can’t see her for Mother’s Day?”

“... A little.”

“Hmmm, I see. That’s understandable.” Ranpo jabs his fork into the strawberry sitting atop his slice, taking it into his mouth and chewing it energetically. When he swallows, he sets his fork down. “Well, luckily for you, today isn't Mother's Day. It's not till this Sunday."

Kyouka tilts her head. “... Luckily?”

Ranpo hums, remaining cryptic. He’s not always the easiest to understand, and everyone in the agency admits to this. The only ones who can say that they truly understand him completely... Kyouka would assume those people were Fukuzawa, Yosano, and Dazai. Fukuzawa was like a father to Ranpo, Yosano was his best friend, and Dazai - he and Ranpo were always spending their free time together, being the two geniuses of the agency they were. Atsushi had made a curious comment that maybe they were dating, but the two men were too affectionate with everyone to say for sure.

“Mind if I share a little secret with you?”

“With me?” Kyouka’s brows raise. She’s surprised, and with good reason. Though Ranpo is all smiles and full of energy, she felt that it was something similar to Dazai - a mask hiding something more serious, something he had shown only briefly in the past. She figured there was a reason, but knew it wasn’t her place to ask.

“Kyouka-chan is like a sister to me. Honestly, you remind me of myself,” Ranpo answers, smiling wryly. “Like you, my parents died when I was 14.”

This was Kyouka’s first time hearing anything about it, anything about Ranpo’s past. Curious as it was, no one seemed to know a thing - not even Dazai. As she recalls from Tanizaki, the brunet even asked to look into the founding of the agency at one point.

The former assassin takes a small bite of her cake, staring at Ranpo with curiosity and concern. “I didn’t know...”

“I know. Not many do. I’m more secretive than I look.” Ranpo admits, lifting his coffee to take another slow sip. “Anyway... My mother and father, they died in an accident when I was 14. I had no other relatives or family, they were all I had - so when they died... I was all alone in this world.” There’s a solemness in his gaze, and his tone is lower than his more high-pitched cheer. “I went to the police academy here in Yokohama because that’s where I was told to go if anything happened but, well, they kicked me out after half a year. I lived on the streets after being fired from one job after the next.”

“And... The director found you after that?”

“Right. Well, not that I took to him right away.” Cue a laugh as the detective rubs at his head. “Hard to believe, right~?”

“It is.” Kyouka agrees, then nods earnestly. To think that once upon a time Ranpo, who fawned over and would do anything for the director’s attention, would have disliked him once upon a time... It’s hard to imagine. The love, attachment, and sheer respect he held for the man was too great to ignore.

“Well, in any case... My mother was a great person. Stubborn and headstrong, capable of putting father in his place no matter what he tried. She could flip you on your ass if you tried to pick a fight with her too.” The man leans back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling. “If she were still alive... I’m sure she and Yosano would have been good friends. The last Mother’s Day present I ever got her - it was a bouquet of flowers I bought with my own saved up allowance, all in a pretty vase and card attached. She looked so happy, y’know...”

Kyouka doesn’t know how to respond. She’s never been the best at comforting, nor has she really received it during her time spent in the Mafia. She reaches out to hold his hand, but he seems to pull himself out of his thoughts and sits up right. He notices her hand, closing the distance to take it in his with a smile.

“That’s why I’m happy things are different in the agency now when you were brought in! Me, I only had Fukuzawa-san growing up... Mother’s Day is kind of an odd one out for me now. But, it doesn’t have to be the same for you. The agency is big, we’re our own family now... Is there someone you view as the motherly type towards you? She might not be your mother but - I’m sure yours would want you not to have such a sad expression when you think about her.”

Blue eyes blink incredulously, staring into those green eyes that study her so earnestly. Kyouka lowers her head to study how his hand holds hers, and she moves to squeeze it tightly.

Someone she views as the motherly type...?

Kunikida immediately comes to mind, but she doesn’t feel it’s the same thing as the mothering a mother would give. She loves and respects him, but decides to count him out of this one.

Naomi... She’s more like a big sister. Lucy, too, even if they butt heads.

That leaves two, and as she sifts through her memories and instances she’s had between them, the answer is clear. If she could... She’d like to thank that person. Lifting her head, Kyouka nods to Ranpo. “I think so... Can you help me get something for her?”

Ranpo smiles eagerly. “It’d be my pleasure!”

The next Sunday rolls around, and while it’s a day off, Haruno always volunteers to come in anyway to get ahead on paperwork for herself and her peers. Haruno is sorting papers by what needs to be read and signed by the director, what are requests for the agency, what are thank you letters, and so and so forth. She’s humming a tune as she goes, and is halfway finished with the stack of letters in her grasp when she feels a small tug on her sleeve that makes her stop.

“Hm?” Haruno pauses, twisting her body to locate the perpetrator. Kyouka is standing behind her and looking up at her with wide blue eyes, as if waiting to be acknowledged. The older woman does so with a smile, setting down her letters and turning to the girl. “Kyouka-chan, good morning! Is there something you need from me?”

Kyouka shakes her head, revealing the hand she’s hiding behind her back that’s holding a small, pastel pink gift bag. “There’s something I wanted to give you.”

Brown eyes blink in surprise, mouth opening slightly in surprise as she graciously accepts the gift bag by the handle and stares at it. “Give me? Where is this coming from?”

“Today is Mother’s Day...” Kyouka explains timidly, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment. “Ranpo-san... said that, if I couldn’t celebrate with my mother... then I should honor her by thanking the person who’s been most mother-like to me. So I thought I’d give you something.”

Haruno pulls out a small lacquer jewelry box from the bag. The design on top is elegant, with cherry blossom flowers hanging from a branch and petals flying into the wind. Kyouka’s words, along with the emotions behind the gift bring the woman to the brink of happy tears, and she hugs Kyouka close to her chest. “That you would want to honor your mother with little me of all people... I can’t describe how happy that makes me feel. Your mother is surely just as proud of you as I am.” she says, kissing the top of the young girl’s head with a teary laugh. “I never thought of myself as the motherly type, but for you, I wouldn’t mind that.”

Kyouka returns the hug timidly, but squeezes with a firmness that expresses her true feelings. “Thank you, Haruno-san...”

“I’m a bit surprised, though - I’d imagine you’d view Yosano-san that way first.”

The former assassin shakes her head. “Yosano-sensei is like a big sister... or aunt. Ranpo-san says she’s like a sister, and he’s a big brother to me.”

Haruno giggles, tucking some hair behind Kyouka’s ear. “I see. That makes sense. Thank you, Kyouka-chan... I’ll cherish this forever.”

Kyouka nods, stepping back to keep her gaze with Haruno’s for a few moments longer before she runs off across the room where Ranpo is watching from the doorway with a smile. He’s almost knocked off balance when Kyouka runs up and headbutts into his chest, hugging him tightly. It brings out a small cough, but it sounds more like a laugh as he pets her head gently.

“See? I told you she’d be happy about it. Are you happy, Kyouka-chan?”

The girl nods. “I’m happy... Thank you, Ranpo-san.”

“Well, anything for my cute sister, you know~”

She hums quietly in response, nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt. There is a few moment of silence, and soon she lets her chin rest against his chest to study his face. “Is there such thing as a sibling day?”

Ranpo blinks. “Huh? Uh... Yeah, but it was in April I think, so it’s already passed... Some other countries celebrate it on the last day of May, too.”

Kyouka steps back, clenching her fists together with a determined expression. “Then I have to plan for next year.” she says, then dashes past him and down the stairs.

“Eh?” Ranpo whirls to watch her run off. “Eh?! Kyouka-chan...!!”

His confusion quickly melts into a smile as he rests his hand on a hip. How can he possibly complain when she looks so excited? He can’t and won’t stop her from wanting to indulge in holidays to celebrate the new family she’s gained, the new life she’s decided to lead.

Ranpo understands that all too well, and wants to protect her as well as this family they both cherish.

#edogawa ranpo #izumi kyouka #haruno kirako #bungou stray dogs

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wordsintheatmosphere · 6 years

Text

The Language of Flowers

Series: Persona 5 Pairing: Akira/Mishima Rating: G Summary:

[For MishiMonth2018 - Day 3: Flowers]

Akira wakes up coughing flowers the day after he asked Mishima out. It’s hard to recognize the petals when they are already in pieces out of his throat, but he has heard of this disease before.

—

He wakes up with a burning itch at the back of his throat. He is choking on something lodged inside, and when he digs his fingers into his mouth and pulls out the warm, wet lumps, the sight of yellow petals greets his eyes. He is far too concerned with removing as much of it as possible to think about the why. Through his hacking coughs and his wet, pained heaving, Morgana paces worriedly by his side.

“Flowers,” he says, his voice tight with worry and concern, his tail flicking around with pent up agitation. “But why?”

Why indeed, Akira thinks, because it is the morning after he’d asked Mishima out and the boy had said yes.

—

The wet, crumpled petals lie in his palms like abandoned golden scales, pathetic and wilting. They’re too scattered and broken for Akira to know what kind of flower, but from the size and shape of the petals (and a brief scan through the flower encyclopedia he bought for his part-time job), he would guess a yellow tulip. “But why is a flower growing in you?” Morgana asks, and Akira runs the back of his shaking hand across his forehead, slick with sweat.

He’s heard of this illness before, yes. “Hanahaki Disease,” he explains, his voice a bit hoarse from all that coughing and vomiting he’d just done. “The scientific cause is unknown, but some say it’s a disease of the heart.”

“What kind of heart disease sprouts flowers in your throat?” Morgana hasn’t stopped pacing on the bed, and Akira is thankful for his concern because it keeps him thinking, keeps him sensible and grounded even though he’s still reeling from the whole of it.

He looks at the petals in his hand. A yellow tulip. “Unrequited love,” he says.

—

There’s no cure for it, but he asks Takemi anyway. She removes the stethoscope from her ears and looks straight into his eyes. “Can you stop loving that person?” she asks.

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just decide not to,” he says, and Takemi shrugs at his reply.

“Then the cure is not that simple. You can’t just decide to cure yourself when you’re ill.” She pats him on the back, almost comfortingly. “Relax. You won’t die from it, as long as you cough it out when you can. It’s a pain in the ass, that’s what it is, but it’ll fade.”

The implications are there. She has already decided that it’ll fade because he’ll get over his unrequited love. He shrugs her hand off him, feeling a bit irritable, and leaves.

— Mishima hasn’t quite looked him in the eyes, but he doesn’t object to eating lunch alone with him. His shoulders are tense and he flinches when Akira pulls nearer, so Akira decides on sitting across from him instead. “Tell him the truth,” Morgana hisses from inside his bag, but Akira tucks the bag at an angle so that Morgana’s eyes are no longer on them.

“Mishima,” he says, “would you rather we remain as friends instead?”

Mishima chokes on his drink, and his face turns a bright red. “What? What brought that up all of a sudden?”

“I’m just worried I’m rushing things. Maybe you’re not comfortable being with me.” Akira knows he’s probing more than usual, but if Mishima doesn’t feel the same about him then he wants to hear the truth.

“Oh. Oh, uhm, that’s not true. I think.” Mishima lowers his voice, his eyes still not meeting Akira’s. “I just—you know—never dated anyone before. So I—I don’t know.”

Maybe it’s best we remain as friends, Akira thinks, but before he can say it Mishima interrupts.

“But I don’t hate it. The thought of dating you…is that weird?”

The smile is hard to fight off his face, so Akira doesn’t bother. “No,” he answers, and downs his canned coffee in an attempt to wash out the taste of the wilted yellow petals. “Not weird. Let’s take it slow. Okay?”

—

He never does tell Mishima about the flowers. Sometimes when he coughs the sound is so deep and heavy that Mishima looks at him with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mishima asks every time, but Akira brushes it off.

“Why won’t you tell him?” Morgana asks in exasperation as he spits out more petals into the school sink. It would’ve been a pretty sight if the petals weren’t coated in his saliva, crumpled from his throat and already destroyed from his fingers pulling them out. “Shouldn’t he know about this?”

Akira doesn’t answer. As hard as it is to stop loving someone, it’s just as hard to force someone to fall in love. There’s no sense in scaring Mishima over it, no sense in letting Mishima know only to blame himself for something he can’t control.

The next day Mishima shows up with a convenience store bag and hands it to him. “Cough medicine,” he says, and though he is smiling sheepishly there’s worry in his eyes. “I hope it works.”

It won’t work, but Akira takes it anyway. When he looks inside the bag, there’s about five different bottles and a dozen cough lozenges.

“I didn’t know which would work, so I bought them all.”

The thought of Mishima worrying over the medicine aisle, of him grabbing all of them and paying with his own money all for him, makes a different kind of ache in Akira’s chest. “Thank you,” he says. “It means a lot.”

Mishima doesn’t have enough money for lunch that day, so they share Akira’s meal. Today he sits next to Akira, and their shoulders press together as they each eat half a bun. The tension in Mishima’s shoulders is still there, but it’s so much smaller than before.

“Come over. I’ll cook something for you.” The words slip casually out of Akira’s mouth, but his heart is racing from the warmth of Mishima’s shoulder against his. When Mishima glances at him, he hurriedly takes a bite out of his bun to mask his nervous energy.

“You cook?”

“Sometimes.” He swallows the last piece of bread down and wipes his sweating palms against his pants. “Just curry, though.”

“Just curry sounds great,” Mishima says.

— When they get to Akira’s place, he excuses himself to the washroom. The petals have changed. He looks at the small, purple flowers and tosses them out. He doesn’t have his flower encyclopedia at hand to look it up, but he recognizes them as lilacs. He’s so busy thinking of the change in flowers that he doesn’t notice Mishima staring as he ties on his apron and prepares the ingredients. Their eyes meet when he happens to glance up, and Mishima hurriedly looks away.

“Enjoying the sights?” Akira says, more as a joke than anything, but Mishima’s cheeks redden. The sight of it makes Akira falter, and he returns his attention back to the chopping board because, hell, if he doesn’t he’ll end up cutting his finger off from how much Mishima has thrown him off his stride.

“You look different when you cook,” Mishima whispers, barely audible. “it’s a good look.”

A sharp pain digs into Akira’s finger. “Shit,” he mutters, and presses his finger into his mouth to soothe the pain. The metallic taste of blood mixed in with lilac tastes strange. Mishima leaps up to help, his eyes wide, and Akira directs him to the cabinet where the bandages are kept. He watches as Mishima helps to stick a bandage on, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and concern over something as small as a nick from a careless hand.

“I swear I’m a better cook than this,” Akira says, and Mishima finally meets his eyes and smiles.

“Oh? And here I was thinking that maybe you were better at the whole ‘looking good in an apron’ rather than the cooking.”

It’s Akira’s turn to blush now, and he swallows hard. “I mean, I can do that too. If that’s what you prefer.”

Mishima pauses, blinking slow at his reply and then rapidly reddening, like as if he’d only just realized what he’d just said. “Uh—actually, how about I just—you know—help out?”

A small groan sounds from the inside of Akira’s bag, forgotten in the corner of the café. “Give me a break,” Morgana mutters, and Akira pointedly ignores the comment as he hands Mishima another knife.

Later when the curry is all cooked and they are quietly eating, Akira clears his throat and glances over the table. “So. Aprons, huh.”

Mishima coughs over his food, choking and pained, and for a moment Akira is reminded of his own coughs over the sink, of the flowers that return no matter how many times he throws them up. But it’s only the food and Mishima recovers soon, wiping his mouth and darting his eyes anywhere but Akira.

“Uh. Weird?”

Akira smiles, spooning another mouthful of curry into his mouth. “Not weird.”

He expects Mishima to relax from that, but Mishima returns his gaze on him, curious and intense. “And you?”

It takes a while for Akira to catch on. Talking kinks over food is not part of the plan, but Mishima doesn’t seem ready to let it go. “You really want to know?” he asks.

“I just want to know more about you, Kurusu,” Mishima confesses, and now there’s nothing Akira can object to that. He feels the same way, after all. He spoons a few more bites of curry into his mouth, chewing carefully as he thinks.

“There’s one I can think of right now,” he finally says, and it’s worth the baiting because Mishima is leaning forward now, eager and curious to know. “Do you want to hear it?”

“It’s only fair,” Mishima says, and Akira smiles. He leans forward too, careful and slow.

“I really would like to hear you call me by my first name.”

Mishima’s eyes widen at that, and he pulls back. “Uh. Really? That’s it?”

“Is that a no?”

“Not a no.” Mishima swallows, looking down at his fidgeting hands. “But I—that might be a bit hard right now.”

Akira has already expected this, so he goes with Plan B. “Then how about I call you Yuuki instead?”

Mishima snaps his head up at that, and though Akira had thought his face couldn’t get any redder, he is proven wrong. “Oh.”

“Is that a no too?”

Mishima drinks his water with a trembling hand before answering. “Not a no.”

— The itching in Akira’s throat has subsided, though there are still a few petals he manages to cough up. It turns out the small, purple lilac petals are much easier to spit out than the large, yellow tulip ones, and he smiles wryly at the thought. At first he thinks the itching subsided due to the change in flowers, but when he checks his flower encyclopedia for purple lilacs he can’t stop the smile on his face.

“You look better,” Morgana says, cautiously examining the discarded lilacs in the trash. Akira lies down on his bed and grins.

“I’ll be fine in time,” he promises.

— And it’s not an empty promise either; the itching dissipates to barely a scratch, until one morning Akira wakes up without a throat full of lilacs. It’s a strange feeling, relying on the presence of the disease in order to understand what Mishima thinks of him, but Akira no longer needs it to tell. There’s no need of flowers to touch Mishima’s hand and feel his fingers squeeze back, shy and nervous. There’s no need of flowers to watch the way Mishima’s face lights up when they see each other in the classroom every day, even if they’ve seen each other the day before and the one before that. And there’s no flower to express the feeling of Mishima leaning on him to sleep, safe and comfortable and with his guard down and leaving himself vulnerable for once, for once.

They stop by the flower store one day, the store that Akira works at. Really, he’d expected to dislike flowers after his whole unwanted ordeal with them, but he finds them difficult to dislike when they are still so beautiful, even in scattered, broken pieces. Mishima isn’t all that into flowers, but he appreciates their beauty all the same and finds Akira’s knowledge on their meanings fascinating.

When Mishima points at the purple lilacs, Akira hesitates. He still remembers the feel of them in his throat, the taste of them in his mouth, and it’s still strange to see them here when the first image of them in his mind is always their crumpled petals in his palms. “Akira,” Mishima whispers suddenly, and Akira’s throat and chest tightens so much that at first he is afraid that the lilacs have returned. “Sorry. Is that uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” Akira answers, smiling a little and bumping their shoulders together lightly, the only kind of public affection Mishima is comfortable with. For now. “They just remind me of you. The first emotion of love.”

#persona 5 #shuyuu #yuuki mishima #yuki mishima #mishimonth2018 #akira/mishima #the language of flowers #my fic #fluff #hanahaki disease #but it's not too angsty #because i don't write angst that well honestly #so it starts out one-sided #but becomes mutual love later

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missingverse · 6 years

Text

Missing Chapter Twenty-One

…..

A note on last week's update: The deed has been done, my novel should be on Amazon within the next day or two. If you have enjoyed Missing, you may enjoy my original work and I hope that if you do find yourself buying it that you like it just as much if not more.

The name is The Hothouse Princesses, under the name S.A. Hemstock. Thanking you in advance, and thanking you for your support and attention so far!

And now, on with the show.

…..

Arnold juggled his boarding house duties and spending time at the hospital like he had never juggled before. His grades were slipping again, but his Grandpa was mollified for the moment. The boarders got their meals, the fixtures were repaired or at least repaired enough to keep them ticking until they inevitably broke down again.

Gertie was home now, and it was clear she wasn't able for her regular tasks anymore. She had picked up an infection during her stay at the hospital and she was noticeably frail, and although she could still clean and cook to an extent she tired so easily that someone else had to take over whatever she had started. She seemed slower mentally too, and she slept a lot.

They were lucky that most of the boarders had been there long enough that they had a good relationship with Phil and Gertie, but even they were getting to the end of their patience with how slow everything had become. They sometimes murmured about paying lower rent, and Phil refused to discuss the matter with them because lowering the rent would mean the entire boarding house going under.

Still, the boarding house was hardly a concern for Arnold; he was reading up about catatonia, brain injury and memory loss. Medical journals were incomprehensible but he had found some decent sources in layman's terms that described the recovery period for people who had experienced these things.

What he learned, mostly, is that brain-injured patients were unpredictable. Helga's doctor had mentioned that she had developed traumatic encephalopathy as a result of being shot in the head and that it would take a long time to figure out exactly how much damage had been done, but he told Arnold to watch out for signs of aggression, loss of focus and sudden clumsiness.

So far, she had been doing well. She was attending physiotherapy to get her walking again, she was always happy to see visitors and she was doing everything she was supposed to. Her memory was coming back in little trickles. She seemed perfectly okay, really. The only symptom of note was that she had some extreme food aversions; she wouldn't eat any kind of meat, or food that was mixed up. Every ingredient had to be separate and eaten slowly, one by one. When you asked her, she couldn't say why, but putting a pork chop or a bowl of curry in front of her induced wincing at the very least and vomiting at most.

It was only a matter of time. Both Arnold and Phoebe were dreading the day she'd remember what her father had done to her, and what had followed.

…..

Arnold, I just got in and she's not here.

The doctor said she remembered

something but wouldn't talk about it.

I don't know what to do.

Hang tight, I'll be

there soon. I'm on the bus.

Jesus Christ, just when I thought

it was all going well! What are we

going to do?

Don't panic, she can't

have gone far. She

can't walk.

I'm serious, Arnold! Goddammit, I

thought the nurses were keeping

an eye on her.

When he arrived, he exchanged two words with Phoebe before she was rushing to the nurse's station. She was white as a sheet, trembling. Whatever had happened, it was pretty bad. He figured it was best to go to Helga's room, maybe it would give an indication of where she had gone.

And when he got there, he spotted what Phoebe had clearly missed in her panic; Helga's IV pole was still there, just dragged over to one side.

“Helga? Are you in here?” he asked.

There was a quiet answering cough from under the bed.

He crouched down low on the floor. He couldn't see her at first, the hospital bed's crank and gears blocked his vision, but when he looked a little closer he could just about spot her foot at the far side, near the wall.

“What are you doing down there? How did you get down there?”

“With a lot of effort, duh,” she said wearily.

He smiled, despite himself. That snippy wit of hers was making its way back, slowly and steadily.

“Phoebe texted me in a panic,” he told her.

“Well, I tried to tell her I was down here but she ran off before I could. She knows I can't walk, right?”

“That's what I said.”

The IV pole clattered off the side of the bed as Helga turned towards him, just enough so he could see her face.

“Do you want to tell me what happened, or would you rather not?”

She sighed, fidgeted, curled in on herself tighter.

“I remembered some stuff. It was pretty bad,” she said, and he got the sense that was all she wanted to say about it.

“Are you hiding from it?”

“I don't know, going under the bed just seemed like a good idea.”

It was risky to bring it up, it could just have easily been her experience at the hands of Waring that she remembered, but....

“Didn't the officer tell you that your Dad is in jail? He can't hurt you. Even if he gets out, he won't be able to get to you.”

She stiffened, and in the dark her eyes were wide, horrified.

“You know?”

Arnold's stomach dropped. In his eagerness to reassure her, he'd just let her know that someone she knew had seen those pictures.

“Yeah, I....I gave the evidence to the police...” he stammered, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid. “I didn't really look, I just saw enough to know what he was doing....”

“Who else has seen them?” Helga said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

“Just me and Officer Plaskett. Phoebe knows but she hasn't seen anything.”

He gulped; there was no point in keeping all the details from her now.

“Rhonda saw one, it was apparently one of the more normal ones. She just thought it was a regular picture.”

“Rhonda Wellington-something? Holy shit,” she laughed, half-crying. “Of all people....”

“She can't say anything though,” Arnold tried to reassure her. “She sent some pictures out herself apparently.... and she doesn't really talk to anyone these days anyway.....”

She said nothing, but he could hear her sniffling. Her back was turned to him, she was pressed up against the wall as close as she could get.

This was exactly what the doctor had wanted to avoid. If she was ever in danger of slipping back into catatonia, it was now.

“I'm sorry,” he said, helplessly, on the verge of panicking. “I'm....he's a monster. But he'll never be able to hurt you again.”

That's not true. He's up for parole next year.

“Listen...” he kept going, knowing he was probably just making things worse, but what else could he do? “Most people would have just given up if they'd been through what you've been through. You never gave up, you kept going even when it nearly killed you.”

She was still silent, but her sniffles had died down a little.

“They convicted him after you went missing, with whatever evidence they had, but they never got to hear your story. You can change that now. You can put him away for longer.”

“I can't even get out of this bed without help,” she said. She sounded worn out, already on the verge of sleep.

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “But you have help. You have me, and Phoebe...and that Ambrose guy, I think he'd do anything for you. You have Officer Plaskett....hell, that's just now, wait until people in Hillwood find out you're alive!”

The D-notice at the hospital was being upheld until the doctors thought Helga was strong enough to face media attention. What little had been told to the press was that a patient had woken up from a long sleep, and it was going relatively unnoticed.

“Your father ruined your life,” he said. “We're going to give it back to you, one way or the other. People will be falling over themselves to give you back your life.”

The silence stretched between them. Had she gone back to sleep? Arnold didn't think he could bear it if she had.

“Arnold?”

He was so relieved to hear her speak he nearly burst into tears himself.

“I'm kind of stuck here,” she said. “Could you help me out?”

He half-laughed, half-sobbed. He hurriedly wiped his eyes and got up.

“Sure.”

He pulled her out as gently as he could by her ankles, picked her up and put her back in bed. She was far too easy to carry, her spirit had had more weight in her. Even so, she didn't look as gaunt as she had when he first saw her in the hospital.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, grabbing the bag he had brought with him. “I have something for you.”

Her face had lost that stricken look, he was endlessly thankful for that. She even managed to smile when she opened the bag.

“Clothes? How do you know if they'll fit?”

They were the clothes he'd bought for her ghost, and they had fit her reasonably well, but they'd probably be too big on Helga right now.

“The saleslady said they're mostly stretch to fit,” he told her with a shrug. “I figured you'd be sick of wearing hospital clothes by now.”

“You're a good guy,” she sighed, looking on the verge of tears again. “I'm not sure I deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” he replied. “You deserve as much as I can give you.”

She really did cry then, but she hid it by clapping her hands over her eyes, even though they were still holding one of the sweaters he'd brought for her.

“What did you do?”

Phoebe was standing in the doorway, shooting an accusatory glare at Arnold. He could only shrug in response.

…..

“Do you think she'll remember what happened when she was living in my house?”

Phoebe glanced up at him and dropped her sandwich.

“Why would she?” she replied.

“If she remembers everything else....her doctor says there's not many significant gaps except some dates, place names and people,” Arnold said. “She didn't react to the clothes much, but maybe it needs a different trigger.”

She could remember what happened at the pier.

He was hoping against hope that she would remember that. She had kissed him back, he knew that for certain. She had pushed him away so he wouldn't love a ghost, but she wasn't a ghost anymore. Nothing was standing in their way now....

“I've been thinking about that, actually,” Phoebe began, pushing her smoothie around on her lunch tray. “Do you know what a folie á deux is?”

“Sounds familiar but no, not really,” Arnold answered.

“It means the madness of two,” she continued. “It's what they call it when two people share a delusion or a psychosis. I think maybe that's what we had.”

“What? Phoebe, we're not insane....”

“It happens to sane people, Arnold,” she said, shaking her head. “Sometimes it's due to stress....I mean, we were both finding it hard to let go of her, and when I first 'saw' her I was in the middle of a freakin' breakdown...”

“Phoebe, she wrote you notes,” Arnold insisted. “She used the shower. She lead us right to the guy that took her for fuck's sake!”

“Says who?” Phoebe shrugged, her eyes lowered down at the table. “Maybe all that was just our perception. Weirder things have happened. But both you and I know that there's no such thing as ghosts, and even if there was why would we see the ghost of someone who was alive the whole time?”

He sat back, gobsmacked. It did make sense, but....

“Either way, we shouldn't bring it up with her,” Phoebe said, picking up her tray with her half-eaten lunch on it. “She's got enough crap to deal with as it is.”

Lunch period wasn't over yet, but evidently Phoebe was done talking. Arnold lingered at the empty table, watched her leave. People were trickling back in the direction of their next classes. Arnold picked up his milk and took a big gulp, and nearly spat it out again when someone took up Phoebe's seat across from him.

“Hey Arnold!” Gerald said.

Arnold swallowed with difficulty. He and Gerald hadn't exchanged so much as a greeting in years.

“What do you want?” he said, and it came out a little harsher than he meant it to.

“Nothing, I just wanted to see what's going on with you,” Gerald shrugged and smiled his achingly familiar carefree smile.

“Gerald, you haven't spoken to me since middle school. What do you really want?”

The smile dropped, Gerald leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Fine,” he snarled. “I want to know what's going on with you and Phoebe.”

“What?” Arnold snorted. “Why do you care?”

“I have my reasons,” Gerald replied. “She's looking better these days, you got anything to do with that?”

“God, you are such an asshole,” Arnold laughed in his face. “You gave her the cold shoulder when her best friend went missing and now that she's finally doing better you're suddenly interested?”

“Look, I know I'm an asshole, okay? I don't need you to tell me that,” Gerald snarled. “I was a dumb fucking kid and I didn't know what to do, sue me. If you were in my shoes you wouldn't have done much better....”

“Yes, I would have.”

“Fine, you would have done better. Because you're so fucking perfect, you can solve everyone's problems. I didn't come over here to convince you I'm a good guy, okay?”

“Why did you come over here then?”

All of Gerald's anger seemed to drain out of him then, and he was slouching, awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck and met Arnold's eyes with difficulty.

“I want to know that she's happy,” he said. “Is she happy?”

“Uh...yeah, I guess,” Arnold said, puzzled.

“You guess?”

“She's happy as anyone could be, in these circumstances.”

“Right. Well, that's all I wanted to know,” said Gerald, rising to his feet. “This is going to sound weird coming from me, but....you make sure you treat her right, okay? Don't do what I did.”

He didn't even wait for a reply, just strode off back to his group of friends. Arnold, baffled, went back to drinking his milk.

He only realized Gerald though he and Phoebe were dating hours later.

#hey arnold fanfiction #TW:Crime

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