#this is a bit ooc but hopefully you can see my vision | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aotaku12 · 2 years

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𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝚩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐤𝐲

✧ Summary | Two girls meet up to go to the festival only for their fate to take a turn for the worse.

✧ Warning | Major Character Death (via Firework Accident, Drowning, Fire Accident, Shooting)

✧ Additional Tags/Notes | Modern!AU (No Vision), KagePro!AU, Possible OOC, Time loop

✧ Inspiration | Kagerou Daze by Jin

✧ Word Count | 2k+

✧ Author’s Notes | I made a Kagerou×Genshin AU where Genshin Characters are taking place of the Mekakushi Dan. This is not the first chapter but more of a one-shot related to it. This is my first time writing Sayu and Yoimiya so hopefully they're not too OOC....

A little girl yawns as she walks her way home from her part-time job. Despite being the same age as her peers, Sayu has the appearance of a child thus making it difficult for her to live on her own ever since her Sensei left.

She doesn't know why, but she keeps convincing herself that Sensei is training or learning new techniques as one of the last ninja remaining in modern times and that they'll come back to teach her more.

Of course, that was only wishful thinking...they haven't come back in so long, and didn't even leave with a message. The last thing Sayu has from them, are the teachings he gave and a customized hoodie based on a Mujina, designed in her favorite colors. Even though she was still a novice with her ninjutsu skills, she keeps those lessons to heart.

She always wore it all the time...unfortunately, it was very hot today despite the time being in the late afternoon, the sun setting for night to come.

"Ugh why is it so hot...???" Sayu groaned. She was quite known to seem down all the time, and the heat was just making her seem even more in a sour mood.

"Ah! Hey, little Tanuki!" A familiar, cheerful voice calls out to her. A girl with a messy ponytail, a crop-top, denim shorts and a orange cardigan, an outfit very fitting for the summer heat, runs over to her. The sounds of her sandals clacking with every step.

"I'm not a Tanuki, I'm Sayu." Sayu pouts. Yoimiya ignores her, "Do you wanna hang out at the festival today? The fireworks show is gonna start soon so I would really love it if you would join me!"

Sayu lets out a tired sigh, "Firstly, I don't wanna go to the festival. Its so hot today and the festival area's gonna be crowded. Secondly, I just came back from my part-time job. I wanna go home and sleep. Thirdly, you're gonna ask me to do a ninjutsu trick during the show...again. I'm still learning and I'm not that good at it yet."

"Oh come on, please! I promise I won't ask you to do ninjutsu, but could you at least come with me to watch the fireworks?" Yoimiya pleads. "I can just watch it from my apartment" Sayu mutters. "But seeing fireworks up-close is different from that! You've been declining my invites all the time...you'll never know when we can see the fireworks together." Yoimiya stated. Sayu thinks for a bit and ultimately decides to give up on arguing, "Okay, I guess I'll go."

Yoimiya claps her hands in excitement, letting out a squeal before grabbing Sayu's hand and running off to the festival.

The warm yellow-orange lights from the paper lanterns would've made Sayu fall asleep, if it wasn't from the chatter from other visitors and the kids running around playing. Currently, they were looking for a spot where they can watch the fireworks in a clear view.

"Huh, looks like that spot's pretty crowded." Yoimiya says, making Sayu turn her head over to the area out of curiosity. "Don't worry, I know all the best spots to see the fireworks. They don't call me the Queen of Summer Festivals for nothing!" Yoimiya says with a smile.

The two walk around a bit more, Sayu being dragged along by the strawberry-blonde girl. Yoimiya suddenly stops in her tracks, making the little girl bump into her. "Ow..." She mutters, rubbing her forehead before turning to look at what Yoimiya was staring at.

It was a lit sparkler next to the box of fireworks that was supposed to be used for the show. "Yoimiya I think we should leave—" "I'm just gonna pick this up and throw it into the river."

Sayu had a bad feeling about this.... "Yoimiya, wait—!" But it was too late...the sparklers lit the fireworks.

And as if time froze or slowed down itself, the deafening sounds of fireworks popping along with a muffled scream that came out of her mouth, the two of them were swallowed by a snake that would only let them relive this tragedy time and time again.

Letting out a tired yawn, Sayu realizes she must've slept while she was walking. 'I should've been more careful...' She thought as she looks up to the sky, using her hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun.

Goldfish swim across the sea of orange, now turning into a sea of stars. "What a pretty sight..." She says in awe. "Hey, little Tanuki!!!" A familiar voice calls out to her. "I'm not a tanuki, I'm Sayu!" She says as she puffs her cheeks.

Yoimiya lets out a giggle, "I know. Hey, wanna go to the Festival with me?" she asks. "Eh...? But I'm on my way home to sleep." Sayu said. "C'mon, please!!!" Yoimiya pleaded, clasping her hands together in desperation. "Mngh...okay, just this once." Sayu mutters. "Yay!! Let's go catch some goldfish and watch the fireworks okay?"

When they arrived, it seemed that almost no one was around. Sayu lets out a relieved sigh, "I'm glad there's less people here...it's so hot."

"Mmm yeah, but wouldn't that mean that only we would see the fireworks? Not that I would mind..." Yoimiya mutters the last part. Sayu looked around, before pointing to the goldfish scooping stand. "Ah perfect! Let's see how many we can catch!" Yoimiya exclaims.

The two spent their time enjoying the festival until night came, Sayu was unlucky and couldn't catch any goldfish while Yoimiya managed to catch two. One for herself and one for one of the kids she babysat. "Why don't we watch the fireworks by the riverbank? The view's pretty nice, plus we can look at the entire festival while watching!" Yoimiya exclaimed. "Mkay." Sayu gave a curt nod.

When they found a good spot, the both took off their shoes so that they can let their feet hang off the concrete ledge without worry. Sayu takes a sip of her juice, waiting for the fireworks to start. "You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want to. I don't mind." Yoimiya says with a smile. Sayu immediately plops her head onto her shoulder.

She was about to close her eyes and take a nap until suddenly, the boom of the fireworks startled her. "Look, Sayu! The fireworks are starting! Ah-!" As Yoimiya points to the sky the string of her goldfish bag broke off and fell into the water. "Oh no...I'm gonna try and catch one of them real quick. It would be a waste if I couldn't at least bring one to Iwao..."

"Ah wait...!" Before Sayu could process what just happened, Yoimiya was already in the water. Worry and Panic filled Sayu's face when she looked around and found a sign that says no swimming. "Yoimiya wait!!!" Sayu discards her drink off to the side and canonballs into the water.

It was deeper than she thought....way too deep for her short stature. She opens her eyes and tries her best to look around in the murky water, there she finds her friend's foot tied to a seaweed, not breathing. Sayu panics and tries to save her...only for her time to be up.

Sayu wakes up with a jolt, sweat on the brim on her forehead. "Hey, are you okay?" Yoimiya's voice sends a chill down her spine. 'Isn't she dead...?' She thought as her face pales. "Hello? Sayu? Are you okay?" The summer girl asks again. "I-I'm fine! Just had a bad dream..." Sayu says in reassurance, though it felt like she was trying to convince herself more than anything.

"You sure? 'Cause I was about to invite you to the festival but I found you shaking over here." Yoimiya stated. "Um...I'll be fine. Let's just go to the festival." "Hm...alright. I'm still worried about you so let's take this easy since this is our first time going together!" Yoimiya says with a carefree smile.

'Everything's exactly the same...' Sayu thought as they entered the festival. All they did was play some stall games and eat some food. "Hey, I think I should go home now..." She says. Yoimiya lets out a sigh, "Alright then. It's a shame we couldn't watch the fireworks together." "I could just watch them from the window..." "It's not the same!!"

Unbeknownst to them, one of the paper lanterns fell off it's string due to the wind and it was currently causing a fire. "Hey, do you smell that?" Yoimiya asks. Sayu sniffs the air before seeing a fire nearby, "Fire!"

"Oh no! We have to get out of here!!! Hey, can you do your Ninjutsu trick?" Yoimiya asks. "I only use it for stealth! I don't know how would it help us in a fire!!!" Sayu exclaims. "We can swim through the river-" "NO!!!"

Yoimiya became stunned speechless when she heard that yell from the usually soft-spoken girl. "It's too dangerous. We don't know how deep it is! O-or how strong the current is!" Sayu added. "Well, then I guess we have to go back the normal way." Yoimiya tightly grasps Sayu's hand as they both cover their nose and mouth with part of their clothes.

But no matter where they went, there was fire all around them with no point of escape. "Sayu look out!" Yoimiya pushes Sayu aside, only for the both to be crushed by a burning tree.

Sayu wakes up again. Yoimiya looks at her with worry but invites her to the festival. Sayu gets dragged around and watches the Queen of Summer Festivals over and over again...to the point she has lost track of time and is wondering what's the point of this.

She looks up to the sky filled with goldfish and glares at it, what she once called "a pretty sight" now feels like it's mocking her. As if saying Yoimiya is out of reach and will never be saved.

"Hey Sayu. What's got you in a bad mood?" Yoimiya asks, with concern. "You won't understand..." Sayu pouts, curling herself up into a ball and uses her ninjutsu to turn into a mujina daruma. Yoimiya lends her a hand, "Hey...don't be so down. Let's walk to the festival together."

Sayu desperately wants to yell at her that, "No, I don't want to go to the festival! We'll just die again!" but it was not like she knew any other way out of this. This world only has a road leading to the festival, and yet there was never a car passing by. All the buildings are just like cardboard cut-outs made for a stage play.

Letting out a sigh, she reluctantly changes back and takes Yoimiya's hand. They play mindless games and eat food again, not that it felt filling for Sayu. Though...maybe just this once she can pretend that nothing is wrong.

"It seems pretty crowded over there...Hey, I know a good spot to watch the fireworks! C'mon!" Yoimiya grabs Sayu's hand as they run off to the direction of the riverbank. However, they stop.

"Ah geez, someone left their sparkler! Don't they know that this can cause a fire hazard?" Yoimiya approaches the sparkler like the first time. "Yoimiya! The fireworks!!!" Sayu cried out. "Hm?"

Instead of the crackle and boom of fireworks like she expected, Sayu heard gunshots coming from the crowded area. "What the—!?" Before Yoimiya could react, Sayu slapped the sparkler out of her hand, tossing it into the river and making a break for it.

"We need to leave!" Sayu said, as this time she was dragging Yoimiya around to find an exit. Unfortunately it seemed that they were surrounded. "Sayu, I need you to do your ninjutsu and hide yourself. While I distract them." Yoimiya stated. "Wh–!? I'm not leaving you!" Sayu exclaimed. "I know...but I promise I'll be back. Just wait okay?" Yoimiya says with a smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes. Sayu reluctantly nods and hides by a nearby stall as her Mujina Daruma.

She tries to keep herself from crying or screaming when she heard more gunshots and screams of pain, resorting to covering her ears. But suddenly...it just stopped. All she heard were cicadas and the wind breeze.

She slowly opens her eyes, and looks around. She was surrounded by burnt debris coming from the first accident, caution tape surrounding the area. Sayu gets up and finds a rope bracelet that once belonged to Yoimiya. Shocked, she picks it up and walks outside hoping to ask anyone if they've seen her.

"Excuse me?" Sayu asks the group, but they didn't seem to notice.

"Apparently there were 2 girls missing. Like they just vanished." "Do you think it's a ghost?" "Nah that wouldn't make sense. People saw them in the festival."

"H-Hello...?" She asks again.

"It's a good thing we didn't go...lots of people were injured." "Hey, can we change the topic? It feels so gloomy, especially the fact we passed by the venue."

"E-Excuse me!" Sayu tugs on one of their shirts. The group turns to her, faces filled with shock. "Have you seen my friend? She dropped her bracelet." She asks, showing it in her palms.

"Y-You're...one of the missing girls...H-How...!?" "I'm telling you she's a ghost!" "C'mon let's just go."

"Ah, w-wait!" Sayu tries calling out to them but they ignore her. She looks down onto the sidewalk, upset. 'Yoimiya...' Tears slowly fill her eyes but then she notices her hand disappearing. "WAUGH!!! Wh-what's happening!?!" She says in a panic. Her deep magenta eyes, now a vibrant red, are welled up with tears.

"I don't wanna be a ghost! I just wanna find Yoimiya!!!" She cried out in desperation. "Hey." A hand taps on her shoulder. Sayu turns around seeing a blonde haired girl, dressed in white and pale blue. "Are you okay...?" The girl asks. Sayu sniffs and shakes her head. "What's your name?" "S..Sayu..." "Sayu, well...My name is Lumine. Could you tell me what happened?"

Sayu would normally dismiss the girl but after being stuck in a time loop of death happening on the same day, she just let out everything...even though it sounds absurd. But to her surprise, Lumine doesn't care and just listens.

"I understand, you're just like one of us..." Lumine says with a smile. "One...of us...?" Sayu asks in confusion. "Have you heard of The Legend of the Medusa?"

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin sayu #genshin yoimiya #genshin lumine #kagerou project x genshin impact #kagerou project #genshin x kagepro

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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scaramouche + body swap soulmate au

prompt: soulmate au where when the reader turns twenty, she swaps bodies with her soulmate. rather than returning to their original bodies at the end of the day, the two soulmates can only return to their original bodies upon sharing a kiss.

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

rating: sfw

warnings: foul language, scaramouche’s existence, no beta reader (oops)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: this was the most requested au for me to write for, but i’m posting this one separately because i a) got carried away writing it and b) altered the prompt a bit. hopefully it still remains good enough that the anon who requested it is happy with the results! i love writing for scaramouche, although my interpretation of him will likely end up being super ooc. this is a part of my 50 follower celebration! i apologize to anyone who expected me to write scaramouche in a respectful way

when scaramouche first awakes, he realizes he had finally swapped bodies with his soulmate.

how utterly inconvenient. he thinks. despite the change in body, scaramouche is filled yet again with the rage that fuels him normally.

god has let him live another day and he plans to make it everyone’s problem.

but, before he can wear his rbf again and plan his holy re-conquest of the inazuman throne while doing whatever it is harbingers do, he needs to figure out where he is and get out of this body.

this means he has to find you. great. another incompentent buffoon i have to rely on. he thinks, followed by a steady stream of internalized expletives as he curses the world for placing him within your body.

he stands up and notices a shift in his typical perception of the world. you’re taller than him. he serves the goddess of love and the world made his soulmate taller than him. for a brief moment, scaramouche considers atheism.

as if this godawful, horrid situation couldn’t get any worse for poor, innocent scaramouche, a glance to his side reveals a shield, a sword, and, worst of all, a knights-of-favonious-insignia emblazoned uniform.

scaramouche then decides to rifle through your belongings. he’s not actively trying to invade your privacy, he’s just trying to find where you hide your vision. the world is cruel for tying him to a “perfidious, repugnant excuse of a government puppet”, but certainly isn’t cruel enough to tie him to a visionless plebeian? right?! right!??!?!?!

after nearly an hour of searching and the near destruction of any storage container that may exist in your house, scaramouche is bent over on his knees on your floor, slamming his fist against the creaking floorboards. no, he’s not crying! harbingers don’t cry! don’t look at him! he just spilt some seawater on his eyes! it doesn’t matter that the ocean isn’t nearby!

a knock on your front door disrupts scaramouche’s pity party and he shoots up, furiously wiping at his face to remove the “definitely-not-tear”stains.

“hold on!” scaramouche calls, surprised at the feminine voice that exits his body. he hadn’t even analyzed what you looked like yet. he had had more important things to do.

no, scaramouche isn’t struggling to put your undergarments on! he doesn’t struggle to do anything! he’s a harbinger!

after an unknown, embarrassingly long amount of time elapses, scaramouche manages to swing open the door, now dressed in your typical uniform, sword in his hand and at the ready.

“woah there, sweetheart. didn’t think our relationship had soured that quickly,” the blue-haired man at the door hums, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

SWEETHEART?! scaramouche screeches internally. you might be a visionless, uncultured peasant that is a part of one of the worst governments in teyvat, but you’re his visionless, uncultured peasant. scaramouche will be damned before he lets this flamboyant pirate steal you away from what fate decided belonged to scaramouche and scaramouche alone.

“call me your sweetheart again and i’ll rip that filthy eyepatch off your face and shove it up your-” scaramouche hisses, causing kaeya to interrupt him with a laugh.

a laugh? the man who looks like he just got out of a tea party with a three-year-old girl is laughing at me? ME?! scaramouche briefly considers capital murder. mondstadt is known for freedom after all. they could possibly turn the other cheek at this blue-haired menace getting murdered.

“happy twentieth birthday,” the man speaks, his revealed eye sparkling with mirth. “your name is (y/n) and i’m kaeya.”

“i didn’t ask for your name,” scaramouche responds, causing kaeya to let out another laugh.

normally, scaramouche would plead to anyone that he is simply a commoner from inazuma and needs a horse to go rescue his lover, now trapped within his body, and return her to mondstadt. however, his immediate hatred for kaeya had taken abrupt control of his body and eliminated any conniving strategy he may have had in order to steal mondstadtian resources to return home.

“well, kaeya,” scaramouche begins, mustering the most vitriol he can accrue from your voice into his words. “i need a horse if i plan to rescue my damsel in distress.”

kaeya raises an eyebrow, intrigued by scaramouche’s words. “i wouldn’t call her much of a damsel.”

“compared to me, everyone is a damsel. unfortunately, i am contractually obligated by fate to give a shit about this one,” scaramouche responds blankly, causing kaeya to stifle another laugh. “what poor gentleman do i need to seduce in order to obtain a horse with the minimal funding i found inside of this woman’s house?”

kaeya smiles. “i’m the knights of favonius calvary captain so… me. but don’t worry, babe, you already have my heart.”

scaramouche might not be able to commit capital murder without consequence, but he does receive joy from being able to ram his knee into kaeya’s family jewels and watch him double over in pain.

------

scaramouche’s journey to sneznhaya is a long and arduous one, but he much prefers the company of the horse rather than the company of kaeya and friends, whom scaramouche was introduced to at the knights of favonius headquarters.

(however, if scaramouche is being honest, he enjoyed the company of jean. she was dutiful and strong-willed. scaramouche would die before admitting he was impartial towards the acting grand master.)

his journey to find you comes to a halt before he enters the sneznhayan border, however. from a distance, he spots 2 (two? scaramouche queries) horses galloping in the distance and a familiar silhouette on each horse.

scaramouche recognizes his body upon one of the horses first. he doesn’t spend all that time admiring himself in the mirror for nothing!

however, he only pays attention to the person on the horse next to you until he sees their arm raise up, eagerly waving in scaramouche’s direction. a pit of dread settles in scaramouche’s stomach. of everyone in sneznhaya, you accompanied yourself with- ?

“HEY!” the person accompanying you yells, his russet-colored hair ruffling in the breeze. “SCARAMOUCHE!”

before scaramouche can turn the horse around and go resign to his fate of being stuck in your body in mondstadt in order to avoid interaction with him, the two of your horses approach scaramouche’s, coming to a halt a few feet in front of him.

scaramouche looks you, in his own body, up and down and lets out a noise of discontent as he hops off the horse and approaches you.

“you’re not wearing the hat,” scaramouche complains in an even voice, staring you down. much to his surprise, you stare right back at him, taking on the subtle challenge scaramouche has proposed to you through posture.

“i don’t desire to,” you respond, folding your arms. “if we’re going off appearances, you’re wearing that shirt backwards.”

scaramouche’s provoking staredown with you is disrupted as he glances downwards, off put by your statement.

“i don’t really care about correctly wearing the uniform of an establishment that is ultimately useless to the wellbeing of society,” scaramouche retorts.

“you’re literally a harbinger, don’t give me that sh-” you begin, but the third wheel of the conversation interrupts the two of you.

“what?” both you and scaramouche say in indignation towards the man who had the audacity to interrupt the two of you.

“jeez,” the man says, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “that’s no way to thank me for helping you find him.”

“i literally told you i could find my own way back,” you say. “but fine, thank you, tartagle.”

the man, tartaglia, opens his mouth to correct you, but freezes upon hearing scaramouche laugh at your statement.

“you’re no longer needed, you can leave,” scaramouche states to childe, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in disbelief. tartaglia glances in your direction for assistance, but you silently shrug in response, gesturing with your head for him to leave as well.

as childe leaves, you turn your head back to scaramouche and smile. for once, scaramouche’s insistent anger is quelled, the roaring waters of the ocean within his heart settling into a calm stream. maybe, despite your overall uselessness to society, you wouldn’t be the worst soulmate ever. scaramouche tells himself, trying to ignore the increased pace of his heartbeat.

“ready to switch back?” you ask, moving closer to him, causing his gaze to flicker down to your lips. oh, right. scaramouche reminds himself. he parts his mouth to respond but, for once in his life, doesn’t know how to form the words. so, he closes his mouth, swallows down his anxiety, and nods before moving closer to you as well.

his hand bumps into yours as the two of you reach up to cup the other’s face as you lean into your first kiss. he barely has time to register the light giggle of amusement that escapes your lips as the two of your consciousnesses begin to return to their respective bodies upon your lips slotting against the other’s.

maybe, just maybe, you were made for me. scaramouche thinks.

once back in his body, he doesn’t dare utter his thoughts aloud. instead, he reserves that thought for when he gets down on one knee.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #scaramouche scenarios #*50 follower celebration #sorry if any poor soul had notifs on when i was trying to post this lmao i failed like 4 times #*scaramouche #*writing #*headcanons

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

Note

Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

#yandere twilight #not harry potter #yandere carlisle cullen #yandere esme cullen #male yandere #female yandere #obsession #stalker #twilight fanfiction

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

heavy cross to bear* matt Murdock x reader

+++++++++ Request @juniebugg: reader and Matt are in a very serious relationship (could be married) but then when reader actually sees Elektra, whom she already knew about but has never seen because she was "dead," she gets really insecure and tells matt that he deserves better or something and he reassures her. Angst and smut"

hopefully its not too ooc this is my first MM smut so i hope you like! and thanks again for the request!!

* - you asked for smut and that really is all this is lol, little bit of story.

Song: wasted time by skid row

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

i sat at the table sipping coffee and thinking. it was almost nine at night and i knew i should be getting ready for bed but my body wasn't quite ready to move yet. when matt disappeared into our bedroom i figured he'd be changing into daredevil for the millionth time but when he emerged in his pajamas i was a little surprised. and then it hit me. maybe he knew. hell, he always knew.

but maybe it was just that something was off, that i needed him to say it again, to stay with me and make sure i knew. but then there was her. she had showed up out of nowhere and took me off guard more than anything else up until now. one more doubt at the forefront of my mind. that i didnt believe him when he said he loved me despite being married for a year, despite having dated for three before hand, and despite everything he has done to keep me safe. because he loved her first and it felt like the biggest lie ive ever been told. even after a couple days of sitting on it and hoping it would go away. still it was there. in the back of my mind:

"matt i dont know if i can do this anymore."

his head tilted to the side and he looked confused.

"do what?"

he asked almost worried, moving slowly to the table and sitting.

"this, us. i just- you deserve so much more, so much better than- well, than me."

he was quick to scoot his chair closer to my own, his hand coming to rest on mine.

"hey, dont even say that. what would make you think i would want anyone but you?"

now he absolutely sounded worried.

"i saw her matt."

"saw who?"

i shook my head.

"that woman, your ex. you said she was gone."

"elektra?"

he sounded a little broken.

"shes something else ill give her that much. i see why you like her."

he swallowed hard.

"elektra is dead."

i shook my head.

"then why was she here? looking for you. saying your name with such... god i dont even know how to explain it. matthew."

i repeated it exactly as she had said it and it felt wrong. like i was acting. saying someone elses emotions and intentions. they were no longer mine. or at least it seemed like it. There was a long silence and I just stared at him.

"She was here?"

There was hope in his voice and I figured that was it. It made me angrier than it probably should've and my only response was to stand and walk away. I got half way across the living room before he caught my arm.

"Y/n, that doesn't matter. I-"

He swallowed hard and I tried to study his face.

"You mean more to me than anything. Yes I love, loved, her but I married you. I chose you. I want nothing more than to be with you. For better or for worse remember?"

He bargained and I sighed heavily.

"How can I be sure you mean that? What if she comes back? again."

He shook his head, taking both my hands in his and stepping closer to me.

"Let me prove it to you. If she really is back then it doesn't matter. I'm with you, I love you, and I'll always chose you."

I closed my eyes, feeling him get closer and closer until his forehead was against my own.

"We belong together."

He whispered before kissing me gently.

"I only want you."

He kept just as quiet, kissing next to my mouth once, then twice, making his way across my cheek and to my jaw.

"Matt."

I breathed out and he paused. I licked my lips lightly before opening my eyes and looking at him. He really did seem like he meant it. He was trying so hard to keep it together.

"I can't lose you."

He sounded so broken.

"Do it."

He drew his brows and I brought my hand up to touch his face gently. We were still so close I could feel his breath fanning my neck.

"Show me you mean it."

I said softly and his Expression changed.

"I love you so much."

He said before kissing me harshly, releasing my hands and pressing his fingertips into my hips. I hummed against him as he walked us backwards. We stumbled along as he pulled my shirt up, tossing it to the floor.

"Matt."

I moaned, pulling his shirt up next. It was gone in a second and he was back, kissing me and moving quickly to get my pants down. His hands roamed my body just as much as mine roamed his. I traced my fingers slowly up his torso, grazing over his scars before wrapping my arms around his neck. I gasped when he picked me up. There was a soft laugh that escaped him and I was relieved to see him smile even if it was just a second. He knew it would take some convincing and he was right. I needed to know he meant it. That Elektra wasn't gonna be a problem.

"I need you."

He whispered again, laying me gently on the bed and situating himself between my legs.

"I need you to know how much I mean it."

He kissed my jaw slowly, then down my neck and across my collar bone.

"Prove it."

I challenged, my breath hitching in my throat as he ripped my bra open from the front, his lips grazing my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He hummed against me, his finger tips down my torso and into my panties.

"Matt."

I moaned, dropping my head back as he ran his finger up me and against my clit. i closed my eyes, pushing my head back into the bed as he stroked me, kissing his way back up to my exposed neck.

"i love you."

he repeated against the heat of my skin. when he resituated i could feel how hard he was already.

"i need you."

i breathed out, pressing my hips up into him as he continued to finger me.

"matt."

i whined, him removing his hand long enough to pull my panties down. i looked up to him with lust blown eyes, watching him intently as he got rid of his boxers.

"youre still okay with this?"

he asked and i nodded quickly, pulling his face to mine and kissing him deeply.

"please."

i moaned, inhaling deeply before he kissed me again, pushing his hips into mine. my breath caught in my throat as he pushed all the way into me, catching my bottom lip between his teeth as my mouth hung open.

"i wanna hear you."

he said softly.

"feel you."

he moaned against my shoulder, dropping his head to the crook of my neck as he placed his large palm over my heart. it was already banging at my rib cage begging to be let out but i could have swore it did when he started moving. he pulled out of me slowly before slamming back into me and i moaned so loudly i was surprised at myself. and then he did it again and again, getting a good rhythm. it was long, and hard. nothing like our nights prior, even on his worst of days when he's frustrated and in need of release. no this was different. purposeful.

"matt."

i held onto him for dear life, pressing my fingertips into his shoulder blades as he continued to pound into me in long drawn out strokes.

"tell me. tell me what you want."

he grunted out, trying to sound as steady as possible.

"i want you. god i only want you!"

i cried out as he thrusted upward harshly. then he did it again and i saw stars, my mouth falling open as i moaned.

"thats my girl."

he praised, trailing his hand down my torso and pressing his finger in circles against my clit.

"youre almost there."

he coaxed, building me up. i could feel the tightness building, pressing my hips up to meet him as he kept his pace.

"im so close."

i panted, pressing my finger tips harder into his bicep as i gripped onto him.

"do it, do it for me, let go."

he said softly and i snapped. my orgasm racked through my body and my vision went blurry. i was breathing hard as he rode out my high, still chasing his own.

"im almost there."

he said, squeezing his eyes shut. he moved to pull out but i wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

"y/n?"

he asked surprised and i leaned up to kiss him.

"just do it."

i said, pressing a hard kiss to his neck. he kept going, knuckles going white against the bedsheets as he came in me with a loud groan.

"oh my god."

he panted, slowing his thrusts.

"i love you oh my god."

he said, dropping to his forearms, trying not to put his full weight on top of me. my legs were still wrapped tightly around his torso as we both calmed down.

"i love you too matty."

i said softly, feeling him nuzzle his nose against my neck. it made me giggle a little bit and i could feel him smiling against my skin before kissing it gently.

"you have no idea how relieved i am to hear that. youre the only one for me. always will be."

i sighed softly in content, kissing his forehead and dropping my legs.

"im sorry i doubted you. i just. i need a reminder every once in a while i guess."

he kissed my chest before pulling out of me and dropping to the bed beside me.

"i will give you as many reminders as you need, as long as we both shall live."

he said, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"thank you matt. thank you for everything. especially knocking some sense into me."

he raised a brow, a half smirk on his face and i immediately wondered what was going through that mind of his.

"after tonight sense might not be the only thing i knocked into you."

i couldnt help but laugh, him matching it as i rolled onto his chest.

"i know you want nothing more than to tell the father we're finally starting that catholic family with lots and lots of beautiful babies but i still have my iud."

he let out a short laugh sigh before i kissed him quickly.

"but that doesnt mean i couldnt be persuaded into getting it taken out."

he raised an intrigued brow.

"oh?"

i laughed lightly.

"ill think about it. right now i just wanna live in this moment with you."

i said the last bit through a yawn, resting my head against his chest and hearing his heartbeat.

"i love you."

he whispered, earning a hum from me as i dozed off.

#wattpad #x reader #337 #matt murdock #smut #daredevil #marvel #imagines #one shots #requests

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vibrant-leaf · 3 years

Text

Therapy is Manly

Part one.

🧡 ~KiriBaku Fic~ ❤️

Summary and Important Note⚠️: Bakugou is more self-aware and Kirishima is a bit more insecure. Part one is kinda painful, not gonna lie, but part two is happy and will make up for it! Link to part two will be at the bottom.

Word Count: 4090

Warnings: Cursing, angst

Additional note: I have been working on this for a stupid amount of time and have come to the point where I just need to trust myself and post it LMAO. They're going to be a little ooc but that's okay because this is my take on if Bakugou was more self-aware and if Kirishima was more insecure. Part two will have a song linked at the end of it. I hope you enjoy it!

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

“Fucking useless!” As soon as it comes out of Bakugou’s mouth, he instantly regrets it. He wants to take it back. He wants to travel back in time to just five seconds ago so he can punch himself in the face before he’s able to say that again. But he said it. And the way Kirishima’s face falls makes his stomach drop down to his knees.

When Kirishima hears those words come out of his boyfriend’s mouth, it feels as if someone stabbed him in the chest. It’s crazy… how two words coming from the love of your life can hurt so much.

“Eijirou, no. No. I’m- I-“ Bakugou doesn’t say sorry. He just doesn’t. But the look on Kirishima’s face, the look of absolute pain and betrayal, rips it out of him because he knows he horrendously fucked up “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it okay?” Bakugou knows about Kirishima’s previous struggles with his self-confidence, and he can’t help but feel like he just ripped the boy’s heart out of his chest and stomped on it with those two awful words.

Bakugou tries to grab his boyfriend’s hand, but Kirishima shakes his head and backs away before he can touch him. He’s gotten used to Bakugou’s anger, mostly. But sometimes, and more recently for some reason, his words have been hurting him. He’s tried his best to shake it off because he knows that Bakugou doesn’t really mean it and he loves him… right? But this. This gutted him. His self-deprecating thoughts are on the brink of exploding in his head. Useless. Kirishima is indeed useless, isn’t he?

“You’re not useless, Eijirou. Fuck. I don’t know why I said that. I’m fucking sorry, okay?” Bakugou is begging him. He’s not exactly begging for forgiveness because he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he’s begging for Kirishima to understand that those were empty words that he didn’t mean and that Kirishima is nowhere near useless. Alright, he might also be begging for a little forgiveness because he can’t help it, even though he truly understands he does not deserve an ounce of it.

Kirishima looks down at the floor, takes a shaky breath through his nose, turns around, and leaves Bakugou’s room.

Bakugou’s hands fly to his head. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” What the fuck is wrong with him?! Why does he keep doing this to him?! He keeps snapping at him and Kirishima just takes it. That’s how it’s always been with them, even if it didn’t use to be this bad. Bakugou yells, throws insults and names, and gets away with it every single time. Sure, Kirishima will call him an idiot from time to time or ask for an apology when absolutely necessary, but he’s never said anything else about his rage. Maybe… maybe Bakugou has been taking advantage of that. Bakugou knows there won’t be any serious repercussions, so this lets him take his frustrations out on him. He doesn’t deserve that.

Kirishima gently closes his bedroom door behind him and stands still in the middle of his room. His chest still hurts, and tears quickly start to form in his eyes until his vision is completely distorted, which is fitting because his brain is also being distorted beyond belief. “Fucking useless… You’re not useless, Eijirou.” The words start to play on a loop in his head.

The tears finally cascade down his face as he mumbles to himself, “I’m not. It’s okay. I’m not useless. He said I’m not, so it’s okay. Just forgive him, he didn’t mean it.” After all the other times Bakugou has snapped at him, he’s learned to simply shake his head and force himself to not sweat it. However, he suddenly realizes… he’s been forcing himself to become numb to it. But it’s okay! He loves Bakugou, that’s just how he is, he usually doesn’t mean the insulting words that come out of his mouth, and Kirishima doesn’t want to lose him, so he needs to force himself to be okay.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Bakugou is trying to come to terms with the decision he knows he must make, for the sake of Kirishima’s wellbeing.

Later in the evening, when the class has gathered for dinner, they notice something off between Bakugou and Kirishima. They aren’t attached by the hip, they aren’t even making eye contact, Bakugou looks like he’s about to puke, and Kirishima just looks sad. Sero, Ashido, and Kaminari look at each other, all of them worried about their two beloved friends.

Ashido speaks up first. “You guys know what’s going on?” The boys shake their heads and Ashido’s shoulders, along with her spirits, fall. “I hope they’re alright…”

Kaminari suddenly remembers something. “Uh... did they sign the lease on that apartment they found like a couple of weeks ago?” Sure, they were only dating for almost a year now, after a long year of painful mutual pining, but they always looked so sure, so confident in each other and their relationship, that moving in together after graduation seemed like a no-brainer.

“I don’t know. They haven’t said anything else about it. But this is probably just a little fight. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Sero tries reassuring his friends as well as himself.

It’s around one in the morning and neither of the boys can fall asleep. Kirishima just wants Bakugou to come into his room and hopefully apologize again, that way he can forgive him, and they can rest in each other’s arms and let everything be okay in the morning.

Bakugou is lying wide awake in his bed, and he’s scared. His heart is racing, and he still feels like he’s going to throw up the few bites of dinner that he managed to get down hours earlier. He’s so fucking scared, he doesn’t want to do this, but he knows he has to… Kirishima deserves better than how he’s been treating him- like a willing punching bag for his cruel, verbal outbursts. God, he is such an asshole. Has he really been like this the whole time they knew each other?

Kirishima finally hears the long-awaited knock on his door but doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t usually need to. “Hey… can we talk?” asks a deep, muffled voice behind his door. He’s a little confused by the fact his boyfriend doesn’t just walk in but whatever.

“Yeah?” Kirishima calls out.

Bakugou swiftly opens the door, walks in, and sees his best friend of almost three years now, sitting up in his bed looking at him wearingly. He can see it. He can see just how mentally drained Bakugou has made him, and it further proves his point that he’s doing this for that beautiful boy’s own good. That human incarnate of sunshine deserves to be happy. He deserves so much better than what Bakugou has given him. So, he swears to himself that he’ll get better. It’ll probably take some time but that doesn’t matter. Hopefully, they’ll be better off afterward… as long as Kirishima will graciously take him back in the future. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t though.

Bakugou walks over to the corner of Kirishima’s bed and sits. When he runs a sweaty hand through his hair, he notices that he’s shaking. God, he does not want to do this. Every fiber of his being wants to just curl up in Kirishima’s arms. But he can’t. “I…”

“I’m sorry,” are the words Kirishima expects to hear out of Bakugou’s mouth, but what is actually spoken renders him immobile.

“I think we need to break up.” Bakugou feels like he is definitely going to throw up. Not now, he’ll hold back for now, but later for sure.

The blood instantly drains from Kirishima’s body, and he is left feeling cold. “What?” His voice is only a broken whisper.

Bakugou bites the inside of his cheek to keep the tears that are forming in his eyes at bay. “We need to break up. I keep hurting you. And it needs to stop.” His voice is shaky, and he feels so fucking horrible. He knows he’s hurting the love of his fucking life yet again while saying this, but it has to be done.

“What? No! No. It’s okay, I forgive you, Katsuki. I know you didn’t mean it. I know I’m not useless, I promise. I forgive you, it’s okay. We’ll be okay.” Why does he feel so cold? He’s shaking now too. His eyes and throat are burning. Holy shit he feels so scared. No no no. He can’t lose him.

“But it’s not okay! This is not okay! The way I’m treating you is not okay! I keep hurting you and I need to stop! I need to figure out how to fucking calm down!” Bakugou feels like a sledgehammer is being struck against his damn ribs.

Kirishima speaks through a waterfall of tears, “Okay, you can do that! But we don’t have to break up! Please, Katsuki. I love you.” He grabs Bakugou’s hands and holds them. “We can get through this together, okay? I don’t want to lose you.” Bakugou only glances down at the alarmingly cold hands holding his hot and clammy ones. And at that, hearing Kirishima’s pleading words, feeling his hands hold his for probably the last time in what’s going to be a while, or possibly forever, he releases the barrier that’s been holding his tears back and lets them fall down his face. He shakes his head.

“No. I’m gonna keep fucking up. And you can’t keep taking it like it doesn’t affect you because I know it does. I can see it on your face, I know I’ve been exhausting you. You don’t deserve that. I need to be alone while I.. fix myself. I need to change something, I don’t know. I just-“ Bakugou takes a shaky deep breath. “I just need to be better. And… When I am better, then we can try again. I just can’t keep hurting you like how I have been.”

“You’re hurting me now.”

Bakugou knows this. God, he knows this, and he hates himself for it. “I’m sorry. We can try again in the future. Because I want to be with you, Eijirou. I love you so fucking much. But you deserve better, and I want to be better for you. It’s just… gonna take me some time.”

Something in Kirishima’s brain clicks and he doesn’t like some of what Bakugou has said. “It’s not fair of you to expect me to just wait around and be readily available for you whenever you decide you’re better.” But honestly, who is he kidding? Bakugou is the only one he wants, the only person he wants to love like this… but maybe this wasn’t exactly healthy after all- no. Fuck being logical right now. He’s in pain and he really doesn’t feel like thinking logically.

“I know that, idiot. I don’t expect you to wait around like some dumb loyal puppy. I mean, if you’re available and willing then we can try again. Or if you… if you do find someone else who treats you better, then whatever, that’s fucking fine. You deserve that. You deserve to always be happy.”

“You make me happy, asshole.”

“Eijirou…” Bakugou’s eyes are pleading now, begging for him to just understand and let him go for now.

Kirishima finally snatches his hands away from Bakugou’s. His throat is still burning, and his eyes won’t stop spilling more and more tears. “Get out,” he chokes out.

A moment of tense silence passes them. Bakugou wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know how to respond to Kirishima telling him to leave, it feels so foreign.

“I fucking hate you. Get out.”

Bakugou bites his tongue so hard it almost bleeds. Yeah… he deserved that. He deserves any anger that Kirishima has for him right now. But damn, that hurt… must’ve been how Kirishima felt when he called him useless. He really was such a fucking asshole to him.

When Bakugou gets up to leave, Kirishima lets himself be logical for a single moment. They’re heroes… and anything can happen. He would never forgive himself if those were the last words Bakugou heard from him before something bad happened. Bakugou grabs the door handle, but Kirishima’s voice stops him. “Wait!” Bakugou turns his head to look at pained, red eyes looking down at the bed. “I… I didn’t mean that. I don’t hate you… I just hate what’s happening…” Kirishima looks up at Bakugou one more time, and even though Kirishima feels like he’s drowning in heartache, he’s able to force out one last sentence. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou wants so badly to walk back over there and crash his lips onto Kirishima’s, and he almost does. He can feel this magnetic force pulling him to the love of his life. He doesn’t want to walk away… but he ruined what they had. Maybe, just maybe, in the future, he can rest in the arms that have comforted him so many times after he woke up from nightmares, arms that feel like home, and he’ll listen to the steady heartbeat that once coaxed him to sleep after suffering through a panic attack from one of the said nightmares. But for now, “I love you, Eijirou,” Bakugou pulls away and walks out of the bedroom.

Kirishima hugs his legs up against his chest and lets the sobs rip out of his body.

Bakugou’s head falls back against the other side of Kirishima’s door and he can hear him start to cry. He never wanted to make him cry...

Bakugou wants to slide down onto the floor to cry into his hands until the whole days’ worth of food threatens to make a reappearance, so he bolts for his bathroom.

Kirishima suddenly doesn’t want to be in his room anymore. Bakugou and him have hung out so many times in there that there’s a subtle hint of his scent, but that subtle hint is currently suffocating him. He looks up from where his face was buried in his knees and of course, the first thing his eyes set on is a picture of them from when they went mountain climbing during their first year. He can’t be here. He’ll literally suffocate and die if he stays in his room that has too many traces of his boyfrie-… ex-boyfriend. His ears are ringing as he starts to mumble frantically, “I need to leave, I need to leave, I need to leave.”

Kirishima pushes himself off his bed and quickly walks out of his room. His chest is in so much pain. He scans the hallway and tries to think if anybody else would be up right now. Ashido’s a night owl, so she should be awake. Hopefully. He just really needs a hug right now.

Ashido is laying in bed, scrolling through Twitter, with her eyelids starting to droop when she hears a soft knock on her door. She’s confused but she slowly sits up to listen and figure out if someone's actually outside her door or if she's simply hearing things. But when she hears the faintest sound of sniffling, she throws the bedsheets off her and jumps out of bed. Then she walks over to her door and when she opens it… “Oh no.” Ashido’s stomach drops at the sight of her dear friend’s red, puffy-eyed, tear-stained, broken face. “Oh, honey, what happened?” She’s afraid to ask because she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pull together and his bottom lip trembles, “w-we... broke up.”

Ashido grabs his wrist and pulls him into her room. They sit down on her bed and Kirishima’s head falls onto her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him, and he hugs her back lightly. That’s when she notices the trembling. “Just let it out, Kiri. It’s okay,” she says as softly as possible as she rubs his back.

Kirishima clutches onto Ashido as hard as he can without hurting her and his eyes are shut tight as he starts to cry again. His body shakes as he lets all the pain he’s feeling rise to the surface and boil over onto his friend’s shoulder. He tries to talk but he keeps gasping in between words. “My chest- it- it hurts so fucking bad. Why- does it feel like this- it feels like someone’s- stabbing me. God- why?” One of his hands clutches his shirt over his heart.

Ashido’s petting his head now. “Shhh… I know it hurts. I’m so sorry, Kirishima. I wish I could take the pain away… Is there anything at all I can do?” She would love to beat up that blonde bastard for making him feel like this but she doesn’t know what exactly happened, so she keeps the violent thoughts at a minimum.

After another moment filled with hiccups and sniffles, Kirishima takes a deep breath. His voice is still really wobbly but at least he isn’t choking on his words now, “My room. I can’t be in there right now. Too much of him.”

Ashido nods her head. “Okay, you can sleep in here then. We can figure out your room tomorrow. But we should probably try to get some sleep since it’s so late. Okay?”

It’s Kirishima’s turn to nod. “I’ll try.” He feels exhausted but he doubts that he’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No. Absolutely not. I will sleep on the floor.”

“No.”

“Okayyy… well if you’re comfortable with it then we’ll both sleep in the bed.”

Kirishima sighs and looks up at her. “Only if you’re one hundred percent comfortable with it.”

“I am. I promise.”

Kirishima searches her eyes for any hint of unease, but he finds nothing. His eyes fall to his lap. “Alright.”

“Good.” She stands up and walks over to her mini fridge to grab a bottle of water, then offers it to him. “Recycle, or else.” He grabs the bottle from her hand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He starts chugging the cold water and it feels nice on his raw throat. Once he’s done, he twists the lid back onto the bottle, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then scoots over to the other side of the bed. They both settle under the covers and a twinge of awkwardness hangs in the air. A silent moment passes before Kirishima speaks again. “My chest still feels like it’s being crushed.”

Ashido sighs through her nose. “Come here.” She opens her arms to signal an invitation.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I know you’re a touchy person so hopefully, this’ll help a bit.”

Kirishima scoots closer to her and lays his head on her shoulder and her arms gently wrap around his neck. He lays a hesitant arm across her stomach. It’s nice. It’s not… Bakugou… but it’s still nice. His eyes start to burn, and his chest starts to heave for the millionth time in the past eight hours. He feels Ashido’s small hand begin to pet his head and her fingers run through his hair. The tears are pouring from his eyes yet again. “Please don’t do that,” he whispers.

Ashido stops immediately and rests her hand on his back instead. “My bad.”

“Sorry.”

“No no. Don’t you be sorry.”

Kirishima pauses. “He used to do that all the time.”

Ashido barely nods. “I’m sorry, hun. I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s okay...” Kirishima’s voice is weary audible as exhaustion settles into his bones. He closes his eyes to try to sleep but all he can see is blonde hair and red eyes. He sighs. “He said he needs to get better.”

Ashido’s eyebrows furrow together. “What does he mean by that?”

“His behavior, I think. He said he keeps hurting me.”

“Is he?”

“Hurting me?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Kiri.”

“…Maybe… Yeah.” It comes out quiet and almost shameful.

“Then yeah, he needs to fix that.”

Kirishima’s quick to defend Bakugou, however. “But I understand that’s just how he is. And he doesn’t mean what he says most of the time, so really, it’s fine. Sure, it hurts for a moment, but I can get over it. I don’t understand why he thinks we need to break up for now.”

“For now, huh? So, there’s hope for the future?”

“I mean he said he wants to try again someday if I want to. But I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

“Hmm… maybe this is a good opportunity for you to work on yourself too.”

“Myself? Why?”

“Honey, listen to what you’re saying. It sounds to me like you don’t even care that he’s treating you like this.”

“I do care, it’s just-“

“You don’t care enough for it to matter. You know what I mean?”

“They’re just words… If I let them get to me then it means I’m… weak. He shouldn’t have to date someone who’s weak like that.”

“Kirishima.” There’s a forceful tone behind Ashido’s voice. “You being hurt from his behavior does not make you weak. You are allowed to feel that way. Bakugou’s behavior and attitude are shitty. He can’t even chill out around his own boyfriend who he supposedly loves and that’s even more shitty. You said it yourself, he’s hurting you. And if someone realizes they’re hurting a person they love then they should try to change the way they act. You, on the other hand, need to realize you do, in fact, deserve better than being treated like his verbal doormat. You need to stand up for yourself more.”

Kirishima is quiet for a while after that, letting the words sink in and process in his brain. He realizes that Ashido’s right in saying that he doesn’t truly care when Bakugou lashes out against him. But why? Why doesn’t he care? He realizes that he should care now but why was he so willing to let Bakugou get away with his horrible attitude?

But then he finally realizes…

He’s insecure.

But he thought his insecurities only pertained to being a hero and he mostly got over that a while ago. He didn’t think he would be insecure about being in a relationship. Well, he wasn’t insecure about being with Bakugou, no way. He admires Bakugou, loves him with every fiber of his being, and he is- or was, so proud and so happy to call him his boyfriend. Bakugou is strong and he deserves to be with someone who is also strong.

Ah.

He was afraid too.

Kirishima felt like he needed to be strong around him all the time, didn’t he? Bakugou doesn’t like weakness and if Kirishima was hurt by something Bakugou said then maybe he would’ve seen Kirishima as too weak for him and leave. Bakugou already left him though. But…

“I want to be with you, Eijirou. I love you so fucking much. But you deserve better, and I want to be better for you.”

Ugh. Why is this all so confusing and frustrating? Kirishima’s head starts to throb.

“Kiri?” Ashido’s softer voice snaps him out of his train of thought.

“You’re right… I should figure out some things for myself too. I think I was scared of what he would think about me if I was always upset with him.” Kirishima releases a disheartened sigh. “So… should I talk to someone?”

“Like a therapist?”

“Yeah…”

“I think that’s a good idea. I honestly believe everyone should talk to a therapist at some point because everyone struggles with something, and it would be good to get some professional advice. So, hopefully, that’s what Bakugou will do too. Everyone knows he needs it.” She mumbles the last part and Kirishima chuckles at it.

“Have you gone to therapy?” Kirishima looks up at Ashido curiously and she nods.

“Another story for another time though. It’s late and I need to get some beauty sleep before having to wake up before you to get you some post-breakup essentials.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, ice cream.”

Kirishima gives her a forlorn smile. “Thanks, Ashido, for letting me stay here and for talking to me.”

“I know, I know. I’m pretty cool aren't I?” She grins proudly. “But you’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am.” Kirishima feels better. Not great by any means, but better. His eyes finally start to feel heavy and before his consciousness slips away, he can’t help but imagine that it’s Bakugou holding him in that moment.

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

Link to part two!

#kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #mha fanfiction #boku no academia #my hero academia #angst #angst with a happy ending #breakup #mina is a good friend

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 3 years

Text

The Red Viper and the Honeybee - Oberyn Martell x Bridgerton AU

Bridgerton AU!Oberyn Martell x Fem!Bridgerton!reader

Author’s Note: I fell down the rabbit hole of Oberyn content and I watched Bridgerton on Netflix, it is terrible from a historical standpoint but from a story standpoint it is fantastic. So that is why I am labelling this as Bridgerton as its own au instead of a historical au and also I am putting you (reader insert) as the diamond of the season or Daphne Bridgerton, but trying to be as inclusive as I can be with your skin, hair, and body type (by not putting my bias involved). Also I will be basing a lot of etiquette and phrasing from the regency and romantic era. I hope that clears things up for you.

TL:DR: Bridgerton horrible for historical fiction but fantastic for story inspiration. Bridgerton is basically the Regency Era!Lite with a dash of modernism in it. Also you are 21-23 years old and Oberyn is mid 20s-30s years old in this fic.

Warnings: Men being pretentious, some misogyny happening, society having expectations for women, historical misogyny in general (please take care of yourselves before and after reading this if these sort of things can hurt you, I love you all), Game of Throne characters being OOC (I mean like all of them, sorry)

Taglist: @ ilikechocolatemilkh , @janelongxox Thank you for being interested in this mess enough to be tagged in this

Word Count: almost 10k (this got over me, yikes)

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For a man to capture my whole heart and attention, they must treat me as their equal and partner in life, for if they don’t then I would be a fool for yearning for them in the first place. My mother was the one to instill these ideals in me since I was young and wants me to find a partner that will be my best friend in all that I am and the same for him.

I debuted in the social market of Westeros rather late in the standards of high society but my father recently passed away so it was overlooked in that sense as my family was given a grieving period to be allowed to be secluded from the world to grieve properly. My father and mother are my favorite people in the world who I adore as well as my younger sisters and older brothers. I am the eldest daughter whom I’ve been giving responsibility to secure finances with suitors, but my family (may the gods bless them so) will forever love me even as a spinster if I never find one in my lifetime.

My homeland is Honeyholt and my mother is the Duchess of Honeyholt, my family is in a unique standing with the high society of Westeros so our family may seem odd and quirky but society is keen to overlook that factor because of our business. Honeyholt prides itself on being fair and equal to all members of their county and business, which lends itself to the citizens and workers of Honeyholt giving us high praise for our practices.

Our land and business is best known for our signature honey wine, brandy, and teas specifically floral teas are our best ones. The Bridgerton name is branded with pride on each bottle and jar of our products.

My older brother, Anthony, is being groomed to take the title of Marquis of Honeyholt. He is very protective over me whenever we go out to social dances, so even if I wanted to find a suitor he yanks me away from them to dance with him or my other brothers Colin and Benedict. It is exhausting between the three of them, Benedict is just as protective as Anthony, but less overbearing, and Colin is much like a guard dog, silent but ready to bite the hands off any man who comes near me. My two allies against them are my younger sisters Eloise and Hyacinth, when I want to dance with a young man they both cause mischief on my brothers before they intervene.

My family got invited to a ball out in the Westerlands near the House of Lannister, and that meant great news to my mother who was excited to show me off in the Westeros season of dancing. Which hopefully by the good graces of the gods that I will be allowed to find a potential suitor. This ball would be a formal social event to all that attend, and my good friend and mentor Lord Tyrion Lannister promised me to make an appearance there.

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We all got dressed in beautiful formal wear, with our signature bee insignia placed somewhere on our persons. My brothers have it embroidered on their collars, while my sisters and I have bee hair pins in our hair styles. The bees do a lot of hardwork in our county and business, so we wear it proudly on our coat of arms and whenever we go out to social events. It is a sign of a united front to us, and that family is of the utmost importance to all of us.

We are all in the carriage riding to the Lannister mansion’s assembly room that was used for such occasions.

“I hope you are not looking forward to the company of Jaime Lannister, this evening? You know how much I oppose his character,” Colin starts.

“I agree with Colin on this one, you know of the gossip that is surrounding him dear sister,” Benedict states.

“Yes dear brothers, if there is one thing in this family that you have taught me to be is to be wary of all of the Lannisters. Except for my dear friend Lord Tyrion I hope,” I say.

“Not to mention the salacious scandal that the Kingslayer has with his oh so dear sister, Lady Ceresei,” Eloise mocks. Me and Hyacinth snort behind our hands in response.

“That is exactly the reason why we don’t want you to hang out too much around ‘The Kingslayer’’ Anthony spits out the last part.

“Then why are we even going to visit the Lannisters then if all we are going to be doing is to bicker around them?” I inquire.

“Because there are some rather interesting bachelors that have promised their arrivals in Westeros that I am certain will be a great match for you,” my mother states reaching over to squeeze my hands in assurance.

“I hope you’re right mother,” I say, “But let’s hope my brothers won’t do too much meddling then.”

“Oh I’ll make sure they don’t darling,” mother soothes me leaving my brothers with gaping mouths trying to argue back but was cut short with our arrival at Lannisters’ ballroom.

We all made our ways out of the carriage with my mother and I being escorted by my brothers. As we entered the ballroom my ears were immediately greeted with beautiful orchestral music played by the band that the Lannisters hired were quite skillful. Benedict immediately led me into the first dance of the night so I was too occupied to catch a glance at all the handsome men in attendance.

“Thank you for the dance, dear brother” I remarked with a curtsy.

Benedict returns the curtsy with a bow as he says, “my pleasure”

Colin, Eloise, and Hyacinth comes over to us with Hyacinth saying, “Do you see who is in attendance (Y/N)?”

“No, who?” I ask as I immediately glance around the room. As soon as I said it my brothers soon said, “On guard,” and immediately tried to disperse themselves.

“Too late, I already caught your eye,” a woman said. I turn to fully look and it’s the Lady of the House, Duchess Joanna of Westerlands.

I curtsied at her attention as did the rest of my siblings as we say, “Lady Joanna”

“Ah Lady (Y/N) Bridgerton I was hoping that you would come to visit me again. You know my dear son Tyrion remarks about how intelligent you are,” Duchess Joanna states.

“Your Grace flatters me, I merely have a good teacher is all,” you say.

“I wish you were as flattering to me to my face, my lovely student,” I hear a familiar voice say to me. Tyrion soon appears in my vision right next to his mother.

“Is there a reason why I haven’t seen you on the dance floor, for I have heard and seen you are the brightest star this season,” Lady Joanna states.

Benedict stands a bit straighter as he hears her say that and states, “All in good time, Lady Joanna. One mustn't rush these matters.”

She raises her eyebrows at him then takes her leave away from them, as I take my leave to walk with my friend Lord Tyrion.

“Oh dear me, (Y/N) you always seem to have your hands full with your guard dogs don’t you?” Tyrion teases me.

I huffed as I reached for a glass of champagne, “Don’t I know it. I know my family says they’ll love me forever if I never get married but what of the rest of the world? I hardly wouldn’t want my family to be shunned simply because I am not desirable.”

“Now who would say that my dear, hmm? You are quite desirable simply on your looks alone, but coupled with that of your smart wits and sharp intelligence, you stand on equal footing with any man who even dares to look at you,” Tyrion expressed.

“Oh if only that were true, but no man in today’s society would hardly want or look for a woman who can stand to attest to what he or his business has to say. Merely look at the fact that my brothers won’t even let any bachelors come near ten feet of me let alone get a word in,” I argued.

“That I do agree with you on the count of your brothers, but to the argument of your abilities to be undesirable to men I do have to argue on that for if I was even close to an eligible match for you, you know I would propose to you but if a man comes to know that you are knowledgeable on all the great poets of our age and the classics, but are also quite fluent in the language of economics and business as well as just the languages of the Old Tongue, Dothraki and both levels of Valyrian my word all the men would be rushing to you as we speak. Also do not ever volley my teaching like that again, I am quite proud of what you have accomplished in my stead,” Tyrion lectured.

“I-Tyrion, thank you for those kind words, I will take into account my skills, because it does seem I need to seriously improve on my self-confidence so to speak,” I agreed.

We then fell into a comfortable silence of us standing on the edge of the dance floor with us sipping on the glasses of champagne that come to greet us, when a handsome man comes into view of me.

“Ah Duke of Dorne, what a surprise it is to see you after all this time,” Lannister greets the handsome stranger.

“It is good to see you again, old friend. I wanted to see how you have been holding up, seeing as your siblings have come back from the big city,” the Duke of Dorne says.

“Ah well you know how they are, I’ve been trying to avoid their company as much as possible so I have been keeping busy with my studies along with my teachings,” Tyrion responds.

“I’ve heard that you’ve become quite the scholar. I assume this is one of your students then?” the Duke of Dorne asks, glancing at me.

My face immediately feels like it’s on fire just from his gaze alone. What is wrong with me? Has it really been so long that I forgot what a handsome man’s gaze felt like?

“Ah! This my dear friend and student, Lady (Y/N) Bridgerton of Honeyholt, Lady (Y/N) this is an old friend and classmate Duke Oberyn Martell of Dorne,” Tyrion introduces us both.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Duke Oberyn says as he takes my hand and kisses it.

I curtsy in return as I say, “and I you, Duke”

“May I have a dance with you?” Duke Oberyn offers.

“It would be my pleasure.” I accepted as I let him guide me to the dance floor.

A new song started to play as we entered the dance scene, and I was immediately taken by the beauty of the music and the strength that hides beneath the Duke’s clothes as he falls into the role of taking the lead in the dance. With his lead, dancing felt as natural as breathing to me, and I got so taken by the charm of his onyx eyes and the scruffy facial hair as he gracefully takes the lead on the waltz we started together.

This particular waltz I knew so well by now because of my brothers and my own learning of it, but to dance it with him, it was enchanting and I became mesmerized with our own beating hearts becoming intertwined with each other and the music.

Then as soon as the dance started, it ended and we both dutifully took our bows and thanked each other for the dance as we began to walk back to our places. As soon as we do so, the Duke is still standing by me when my brothers almost tackle me with how fast they were coming towards me.

“What are you doing near my sister?” Benedict demands.

“You are not to be near our sister, Viper,” Colin reprimands.

I jump between the Duke and my brothers as I object, “What is the meaning of this, brothers? The Duke of Dorne had graciously asked for my hand in a dance and I accepted, had I known that you would be so up in arms on me wanting to dance I would’ve looked for him earlier.”

The Duke turned his head to try to hide his smirk at my comment but I saw it at the corner of my eye.

“You see dear sister, he has quite the reputation of being a rake around the molly houses of Westeros,” Benedict explains. (Molly houses is a word for brothels in regency era which has both male and female prostitutes, and rake is basically a womanizer used for male protagonists in romance novels of the time)

“What is so wrong with that? From what I’ve heard our dear Kingslayer has been rumored around molly as well, and what is the point of this information I doubt he has any intention on taking me there,” I rebutted.

“I thank you for your kind argument for my reputation but I must apologize to your brothers here because they think that I have an intention on taking your flower before courting you. I apologize to you both, however I will not apologize to the fact that I am very much looking forward to courting you in the near future. From what I’ve heard from Lord Tyrion and now your brothers, it seems you are quite the Incomparable,” the Duke states.

“You flatter me sir,” I bow my head to him.

“I am very much looking forward to seeing you in the near future Lady Bridgerton, please think of my proposal?” the Duke insists as he takes my hand and kisses the palm of my hand as a way of goodbye.

I blushed at the small gesture of his all the way back home. However as soon as we got to our home, things were soon broken into chaos with my brothers surrounding me asking how I managed to get the attention of the Red Viper of Dorne.

He was apparently quite well known in the boxing circles of both the Westerlands and Dorne, but equally well known was his pernicious nature with that of the ladies of the night surrounding Westeros and the Reach.

“I don’t know what you all are rambling about. Have you not opened your eyes when the two were dancing? The Duke and her were very much smitten with each other and were not looking at anyone else when in each other’s company. Also I can think of many ill-fitting matches that could be worse then for your dear sister to be paired with a duke,” my mother rebutted.

I grinned in victory at hearing my mother’s words knowing we won that round against my protective brothers.

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Three days laters we were in the drawing room with me practicing my piano skills, and everyone was casually doing their own activities. Hyacinth was reading her favorite book, Eloise was writing, Benedict and Colin was playing chess, and mother was listening to me playing. Anthony was in the study deeper in the estate most likely taking care of the finances of the business and estate.

A butler came in and announced, “Lady (Y/N) we have a bouquet here for you.”

I jumped out of my seat at the piano along with my mother, we both exchanged excited looks at who could’ve brought me flowers. What arrived was a beautiful large arrangement of red, pink and orange honeysuckles, tulips, and bachelor’s buttons. They were beautiful, I gasped when they were placed on an end table in the drawing room, they were even placed in a beautiful crystal vase. I went towards them and smelled them, when I realized what they all meant: declaration of love and hope.

As soon as I was taking in the splendor of the bouquet I saw the letter placed next to the vase. I opened it and the letter read:

To the lovely Lady (Y/N) Bridgerton of Honeyholt,

You have quite literally and wholeheartedly enraptured my heart and mind with thoughts of you. I know it may seem like I am making haste with putting my thoughts in letters and ink, but I hope you may like that sort of thing. I am hopeful to see you in the dance of the season to arrive and for you to reserve a dance for me if you so can. I hope your brothers may allow me to accompany you in this way. May the gods and you bless me with your company. I wish you and your family good health and wealth for the rest of your days.

Sincerely and Earnestly,

Duke Oberyn Martell of Dorne

“Oh mother, come look it’s from the Duke of Dorne, read this letter it's so thoughtful,” I gush as I hand her the letter.

My mother gasps and reaches the letter from my hand, and as she reads from my periphery I see my brothers whisper to one another from their couch and I see Colin leave while Benedict stays.

“This is wonderful news! It’s only been half a week in this season, and it seems like you’ve already found yourself a suitor, my dear,” mother said.

“It’s all thanks to you mama, my wonderful wit and looks must’ve charmed him and I got them all from you,” I replied. We then looked at each other and bursted out laughing, hugging each other as we giggled at the letter and bouquet.

“Do you really think he likes me though? Because I have heard what my brothers said about him and they went to the Academy together,” I said suddenly.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, you two are about to begin a beautiful courtship I can sense it,” my mother assured me.

“What is going on here?” I hear Anthony stomp over in the room.

“It seems like your sister charmed the Duke of Dorne,” mother explains.

Anthony grabs the letter from the end table and reads it, he hands it over to Colin and Benedict to read, who then turns just as angry as Anthony.

“This is ridiculous, don’t you think he’s going a bit too far and fast with this, mother?” Anthony questioned.

“Well sure it may seem a bit fast but it’s not like he asked for her hand in marriage yet, it’s the start of a courtship, have you seen the flowers he sent her?” my mother reasoned.

“Expensive ones,” I jumped in.

Anthony glared at me for a moment but then returned to his normal posture as he then gestured to all three of him, Colin, and Benedict as he says, “Just know that we are only looking out for you sister, and if he even dares to touch a hair on your head without your consent, just give the word and we will fight him for you.”

Benedict and Colin nod in agreement but I scoff and replied, “Three against one, seems hardly fair does it?”

“It does when it accounts towards the family honor,” Benedict says.

I just huffed at that and grabbed the letter from their hands and replied, “Well I think his charming, but if you can think of a better match than him I am all ears, however for now you will to be contempt with the fact your sister is in the dating season in Westeros and I hope you three can wrap your heads around that.”

With that I kiss my mother on the cheek as I bid my farewell to the rest of them as I take my leave to my bedroom where I laid on my bed clutching the letter to my chest. I laid there motionlessly for a minute before a smile spread across my face at the thought of Oberyn Martell writing the letter and handing the flowers himself.

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The time has arrived for my family and I to arrive at the next gathering, which is to be hosted by the Tyrells this time. The House of Tyrell is known for their lavish spending on the decorations and music, the only family that comes close to their lavish spending are the Lannisters. Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden is rarely seen during the parties rather he has a much permanent stay over at the King’s Palace, as he is the King’s most renowned advisor, however the Lady of the House, Lady Alerie Hightower has a graceful demeanor and peaceful aura that one hopes they can be graced with in their lifetime.

We all gathered into the carriage together when we were all dressed and ready to go, with Anthony being the last to arrive. Mother and I sat next to each other giggling to ourselves and clutching each other’s arms thinking about Oberyn. My brothers sat across from us sulking with their arms crossed, probably scheming about ways to get me away from Oberyn.

The carriage stopped and the rider signaled us that we have arrived at the Tyrell estate at Highgarden. The estate is beautiful with the castle stretching for miles on either side of the front entrance, with the renowned beautiful rose gardens stretching around the landscape of the castle. It was beautiful, as to be expected of the Tyrells.

We entered the ballroom in which the party is primarily at, and I soon saw Tyrion talking to the hosts of the party, Lady Alerie and her daughter Lady Margery. They both are the belles of the ball tonight, it was also seen as Lady Margery’s debut into the social season, we haven’t talked much so I can’t really say anything about her character.

Tyrion sees me and waves me over so I do with my mother in tow, we come to greet him and the hosts.

“Lady Alerie, Lady Margery, we are grateful for your invitation,” my mother greets her as we both curtsy in greeting.

I turn to Margery and say, “you look absolutely beautiful this day, might I add the color green really takes to you.”

“Why, I am quite flattered to hear that because from what I heard around the town, you are the Incomparable this season,” Lady Margery remarks.

“It is quite true, even if she doesn’t want to admit it, she is the best student I ever had,” Tyrion says for me.

“Who cares for me when I heard that a certain prince caught your eye?” I question.

Margery blushes under the question and Tyrion raised his eyebrows at me in response. Before anyone can further the conversation I heard the band begin to play the first song of the ball. Lady Margery excuses herself as she readies herself to be asked on the dance floor. Within the first verse she did get asked by a handsome bachelor.

The prince in question was Prince Joffrey Baratheon, he was being groomed to take the role of King of Westeros quite soon, however room speculates about how prepared he may be. In the eyes of high society he was supposed to debut as a bachelor if he was anyone else, but he is the Platinum Prince as people liked to call him. Tyrion likes to call him the Plastic Bastard behind closed doors.

My mother soon takes off as she told me that she was going to try to fend off my brothers from scaring off any suitors my way which I thank her for.

“So you are hearing things about that loathsome child?” Tyrion questions in a hushed tone.

“Quite, but don’t worry it’s all gossip, it seems like Lady Margery is getting favors from Prince Joffrey. He seems to be quite adamant that he has found her princess, however the Queen might feel about it,” I state as I watch the dancing.

“That is quite the speculation, but it does appear you are right, because Lady Alerie seems to think that this debut was only to announce that Lady Margery has come of age into the social season, because it seems like Lady Alerie already picked out and secured a quite permanent suitor for her daughter,” Tyrion speculated with a sip from his glass.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if the prince came here uninvited to try and win the people’s hearts with a grand spectacle. How the royal family do like their toys,” Tyrion continued.

“Bite your tongue Lannister, I don’t want to lose a friend simply due to gossip,” I paused then leaned down to whisper to him, “But you are quite right about the toys. It would be a shame if the prince realized he was also a pawn to the Queen’s game as well.”

“Aren’t we all,” Tyrion muttered. We both glanced at each other and shared a smile at that, we clink our glasses together as we drink with smiles on our faces.

“I see you two are together often,” I hear a voice approach us.

I turned and saw the Duke of Dorne smiling at us, in a very catching navy blue, and golden yellow suit with a dappled blue ascot tied and tucked around his neck. His olive skin seems to glow from the ensemble, and I start to blush at how intense his gaze was at me.

“You see, your grace, it’s merely a ruse so my brothers aren’t as intense at protecting me, they don’t see Lord Tyrion as a threat, so I am able to breathe freely from such scrutiny,” I say with a conspiratory smile on my face.

Tyrion pretends to gasp as he clutches imaginatory pearls around his neck.

“My word, Lady (Y/N) if only your guard dogs can hear you now,” Tyrion states.

We both laugh at that while the Duke has a huge grin on his face, watching us.

“Well now that I know the truth, may I have this dance, I do believe they are about to start the Cotillion Dance if you care to join me?” the Duke offered with his hand out.

“I would be honored, Lord Martell,” I say cautiously as I take his hand and he leads me to the dance floor.

The music begins and we all stand in formation at the start of the dance, then the dancing commenced. The man of course led this dance as well, and from our first dance together I took well under his lead in the dance. It felt like we were gliding on the dance floor with us twirling and spinning around each other, but I felt safe and confident as we danced together. I felt beautiful and radiant, I looked into the Duke’s eyes and it felt like he had his eyes on me the whole time. The Cotillion ended as we took our bows and he led me off the dance floor.

We found a corner of the ballroom as he took me there, and he began to speak.

“So, I was wondering and I know this might be too soon after our second dance but I would like to propose something to you,” the Duke began.

“Yes?” I urged.

“Well, I would like to begin a courtship with you,” the Duke says.

I let out a startled laugh at that as I immediately put my hand on my mouth at that, I grew hot with embarrassment almost immediately.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you, but you see my brothers are quite adamant at protecting me and if they heard you propose that to me, they would all beat you to a pulp. They also seemed to warn me against you as well I might add,” I warned him.

He quirked his eyebrow as he heard me which he then replied, “I wonder what those warnings might be? Is it that I am a rake? Or is it that I had frequented brothels?”

“There was that, but also that you are a bit of a brute,” I added.

He gave a quiet laugh at that as he shook his head and then let out an exhale. I gave him a soft smack to his torso as I reprimanded, “Don’t laugh! So tell me is it true then? Should I be cautious of you then?”

He gave a dramatic pause as he gave a thoughtful stroke to his facial hair and he looked up to the ceiling as if in quiet deliberation.

“Well all those rumors used to be true a couple months ago, I was quite rebellious towards my family affairs and myself I suppose. I didn’t want to take responsibility quite yet,” he said.

“Well what changed?” I inquired.

“Well to put it quite simply, my older brother, he has his own state of affairs with his own estate at Godsgrace and with our sister Elia passing away so suddenly from influenza we were both stricken with grief,” he pauses as if in reflection.

I nod in understanding, I put my hand on his as I squeezed it in reassurance waiting for him to continue talking.

After a moment of soft silence between us as the music and society dances around us, we were caught up in each other, in this moment.

“Well, I suppose that brought things in perspective for both of us, let’s say. I know she loved us until the very end of her life, but I suppose that grief has left me stricken to try and chase anything that made me feel something other than grief and molly houses, duels, boxing, and fencing were all things that did,” he seemed to emphasize the past tense in his sentence.

“Well I am sure if she saw you now, she would not blame you for what you have done. Grief does strange and terrible things to us all. I was similar to you as my papa had just recently passed away this past year, I had locked myself away in my room and not talked to anyone except my mama and even then it was short sentences. They loved each other dearly, my parents,” I explain.

“What got you through the grief?” he asked.

I paused in thought then answered, “Well to be honest, there will always be an ache in my heart for him but what got me through in acceptance was my family and the world outside my window. Nature allowed me to relapse in my head and to just breathe fresh air without thinking of my father, my family, businesses or anything else. It allowed me for a moment to collapse and I think I needed that.”

“You are quite wise for someone so young,” the Duke remarked.

“Well three older brothers and two younger siblings someone ought to be,” I answered.

He smiles at my comment and then replies, “Well I think that does it for our serious conversation. Would you like another dance, my lady?”

“Why I would be happy to, sir.”

The next dance was led by a bright happy tune and we instantly knew the dance was to be of a country dance. We beamed at each other as we both realized that, it was as if the band realized we needed a reprieve. The dance was filled with bouncing and skipping around the entire floor, and it led to us with bright smiles on each other’s faces as we continued to stare at each other throughout the whole dance. From the corner of my eye I saw my brothers with concerned expressions as they saw me dancing with the Duke, and I also saw my mother and Tyrion both smiling at us.

“It seems like we have fans,” the Duke whispered to me.

“And critics,” I added, which made both of us lean back a little and let out a small laugh.

“I assure you that the criticisms that your brothers may have me are of past consequence,” he tells me.

“Oh I’m quite confident in that,” I say.

The dance then ended with us as routine in society, we take our bows and he leads off the dance floor. Which we were then greeted with three angry faces and two smiling ones.

“What are you doing with him, (Y/N)?” Anthony questioned.

“Well I'm having a lovely time, if you must know, brother,” I answered.

“I was also going to ask you something before your family came over,” Oberyn says.

“Oh what is it?” I asked.

“Since we have twice tonight, and from our conversations I would like to make our courtship public and to get approval from your family,” Oberyn announces. (In regency era, if a lady dances only with one man, especially twice in one night, it is seen as either she is “easy” or she is engaged to that man)

“How da-” Anthony started.

“Wonderful,” my mother finished as she elbowed Anthony.

“It seems you have taken fascination with my student, eh Red Viper?” Tyrion asks.

“I sincerely have, and I want to make this an amazing courtship, I know that your family is known for honeyed alcohol but what of sweets? There is an amazing cafe that I would love to take you sometime this week,” Oberyn offered.

“I would love to, Duke” I answered.

“You could take her this weekend, that’s two days away, I’m sure you can take her then,” my mother responds.

“That sounds wonderful,” Oberyn answered.

“Then it’s settled, I can’t wait to see you that day. Well I think we’ll take our leave then,” I say and my mother reached for my arm and we were escorted home leaving Oberyn and my brothers to their own disposal.

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Two days have passed with relative ease even though all three brothers have badgered my ear off with the countless requests to put Duke Oberyn in his place by way of a duel, which I vehemently denied. My sisters have taken to making fun of me for being so enchanted by the Duke of Dorne, and it seems the only person who was my confidante in this new relationship was my mother.

The clock in the drawing room has struck 12 o’clock meaning that it was time for me to be heading out towards the main town in the Reach which was only 30 minutes away from our estate by foot, so it was easy for me. I took to wearing my riding boots and my favorite dress and wearing my hair in a simple updo fashion, well as simple as one can make it with the fashion trends these days.

I ended up making it to the main road of the town in enough time that I was allowed to stroll around the town window shopping, until I heard my name being called.

“Lady Bridgerton, there you are,” I heard a familiar voice call out.

I turned to see the Duke of Dorne walking my way to me with a lazy grin etched on his face, which got me to smile back at him.

“Why hello Lord Martell,” I say as I do a small curtsy to him.

When he fully approached me he presented his hand to me and as I took it he said, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” I grinned at him.

We made our way to a small cafe that he was adamant that was amazing about their sweets and pastries that they are known for. We found ourselves at a corner of the shop sitting on opposite sides of the table. He ordered for the both of you when it came to that, because he insisted that there were some things that he simply must do for me and to trust him.

I huffed and playfully glared at him as we got our treats in order for us., and he returned my glare with a stare of his own. A smirk plays across his features as he takes a dip into a lemon custard that he got, wrapping his tongue around the spoon.

I inhaled sharply as I watched and I got flustered when he caught my eye, I hurried myself with drinking my hot chocolate that I got. I saw his expression become bemused at what he saw me doing from my periphery, and I tried to shake my head of the thoughts that were swirling in my head.

“So, I was thinking…”

“Oh a dangerous activity indeed,” I teased.

“Hush, I was merely about to ask, what are some things that you would like to do while we are courting, because I would like this to be a worthwhile endeavor for the both of and make this the best courtship for you”

“Well, that’s rather kind of you, but I am sure you are aware that I have not courted anyone at all, and to be quite honest with you I don’t know a thing about courting. Sure I know mannerisms and what to say as well, but what goes beyond that? I simply don’t know. My brothers won’t tell me a thing, and my mother won’t tell me a thing about it.”

“Hmm, well we’ll take it slow then, okay? If I do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or strange tell me, hmm? I have every intention of making you my wife, so let’s get to know each other during this courting period and don’t worry about not knowing certain things about life because from what I heard you are quite the scholar,” Oberyn responds to my rant.

“Well I try to be, I would love to be a writer one day but that is off limits in today’s society, I’m afraid, so I make do with learning as much as I can with the limited options I am able to. Lord Tyrion makes an excellent teacher, whenever he is not professing his love for alcohol or gossiping about the royals,” I let out.

“Lord Tyrion is quite the conversationalist and wine tester, he knows about everyone and everyone’s cousins, unlike his siblings people have no problem extending an invitation his way. Now, what is your favorite thing that you like to learn? There has to be something that you enjoy out of all your lessons,” he asks.

“Well, I do enjoy painting, and I’m rather indifferent towards my sewing lessons which I suppose is mandatory, but I also deeply enjoy playing music. Painting and music are something I am deeply in love with, I love to go to the Opera theater in town. The touring groups that play there are almost always amazing. I also love going to the art galleries whenever they have a new exhibit to display,” I respond.

“I heard there was going to be a new exhibit opening up in a few days from now, I’m bringing my sister’s favorite painting to be displayed there,” Oberyn states.

“I will be there, I got an invitation from Lady Joanna to be there actually, I’m sure she just wants to keep an eye on me, “ I say.

“Who wouldn’t want to keep an eye on the diamond of the season?” Oberyn questions.

“I hate that people are calling me, as well as the Incomparable? What am I that the other women are not?”

“Well I am not sure how to put it, but you surely have captivated me, and it seems like your focus and intellect has in fact enraptured all that talk to you,” Oberyn assured me.

“I surely hope not, for there are some that I would happy to never come near me again,” I state.

“Oh? And who would that be? You surely couldn’t be talking about the Kingslayer or the Prince?”

“You listen to about as much gossip as my mother, I swear.”

“Well is the gossip wrong?”

“No, not exactly but even if I was interested in them, I doubt that my brothers would even think about letting them breathe in my general direction.”

Oberyn laughs at that.

“Well, then I shall count my blessings that I allowed to still be alive so I may take in your beauty,” Oberyn flatters.

“You already got an outing with me, I hardly think you need to do anymore flattering, Duke,” I respond.

“Hmmmm, I think if we were to continue this courtship I think it would only be fair if you would call me by my first name?” Oberyn insists.

I got flustered by his sudden request but then I went to say, “Of course, only if you do the same.”

He raises his eyebrows at me and had a light smile on his face as he says, “Well of course it’s only fair, (Y/N)”

“Oberyn”

“How sweet it is to hear my name from a lovely flower,” Oberyn compliments.

“Well I think that’s enough pandering today, I am sure you must have more important business then just hanging out with me all day,” I say as I brush my dress and start to stand up.

“Oh there is no more important business then spending time with you, honeybee,” he comments and he winks at me when he calls me that new nickname.

My face got hot with that new nickname as I tried to make my way out of the cafe with Oberyn hot on my trail. He suddenly pulled me aside into a walkway that was a clearing in a park that I hadn’t fully noticed before.

“What? Oberyn? Where are you taking me? I thought we were just heading back,” I questioned him.

“You didn’t think that I would want to part with you so soon, honeybee?” Oberyn asks in return as he spins back to face me.

“I assumed so, my brothers make a point to make sure there are no suitors within an arm’s length of me and I thought you would be the same yet you keep coming back. I thought you would be scared to come near because of my family,” I admitted.

“Ah well, I know how my family is, I am lucky that I was able to grow an estate of my own because my elder brother is the viscount of our family estate and he can be a pain on trying to get me a wife and my personal schedule in general, so believe me when I say I understand siblings. Maybe, not to the extent of your family but to an extent,” He explains.

“Well that explains some of it, I suppose,” I replied.

We were walking side by side at this point and I noticed the sun was just about to set and I realized that we were out together for at least 4 hours, and I was starting to worry what my brothers would think.

After a few moments in silence Oberyn breaks it as he asks, “I just want to ask, why are you so hesitant about this relationship? Is it truly just because of your brothers that you are not willing to enter this relationship or is it something else entirely?”

“It is mostly because I am afraid Oberyn,” I tell him.

We now stood in front of a beautiful ficus tree with its branches spread all in different directions but the leaves always reaching towards the sun. I turn my focus on studying this tree instead of looking at him, embarrassed for admitting my fear. For I want to love him with my whole being already but scared of the novelty of it.

Oberyn hummed in thought as he heard my fear and after a moment of silence he spoke up, “Well then we shall take it slow, as slow as we can in this season anyway. The gods know how the Queen loves a good wedding.”

I turned to him and I smiled softly at how gently he spoke. “Thank you Oberyn then I will see you at the gallery then,” I say to him.

“Yes you shall, now let’s get you back before your brothers come looking for us and to take my head.”

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The days seem to blur as I wait in anticipation for my next meeting with Oberyn, it has been less than a week since we have started courting but I am already infatuated with the man. Relationships have started off with less in these times, right? I mean Countess Daneryes had an arranged marriage with Count Drogo, they seem happy enough from the little times they do make a public appearance but I can only imagine if things were to have been worse.

During the few days between my dates with Oberyn, I had been pressured to practice my music skills more, as my mother thinks that a Duchess should know the masterpieces of the piano. I just hope one day I’d have the liberties to be able to compose my own piece on the piano.

Benedict had recently taken art classes, Colin also started taking fencing lessons, and Anthony has been Anthony. When I announced that I would be attending the new painting gallery, Benedict showed his interest in escorting me there as well as wanting to see the new art in general. With that settled, Colin and Anthony begrudgingly said that they’ll let me go on my own with Benedict. My mother seemed equally as excited as I am about the art gallery, because I have talked to her about Oberyn and she approves of the relationship.

Benedict and I went off to the gallery once we were already ready to go. We stepped foot in the carriage and off we went to the main city’s art gallery. The ride went quickly and rather quietly as well, but I didn’t pay any mind to the silence. I was just excited to see Oberyn again.

We arrived at the gallery, and once we stepped inside I was absolutely mesmerized by the decor and ambience of the entire place. The paintings were displayed in front of a beautiful burgundy backdrop all throughout the place. My brother and I bid our farewells to each other as we went to go look at the different paintings.

I explored and looked at the different types of paintings that were displayed around the gallery.

“Well if it isn’t Lady Bridgerton, how very nice to see you,” I heard a voice coming up to me.

I looked to my right to see Duchess Joanna, I bowed my head towards her and gave her a polite greeting as well.

“I’m glad to see you got my invitation well, how is your relationship going with Duke Oberyn?” Duchess Joanna asked.

“I think it’s going well, at least I hope so,” I respond.

“So when do-”

“Ah Duchess Joanna, how good to see you here. I want to thank you for extending an invitation and for me to display my family’s paintings here,” I hear a familiar voice interrupt.

I tilt my head to Oberyn as he made his appearance between the Duchess and I, it seems he must’ve heard the conversation and wanted to circumvent the question the Duchess was about to ask.

“Of course, and I see you have found each other so I will be taking my leave,” Lady Joanna says and with that she walks off.

Oberyn turns to you and as you meet each other’s eyes you both smiled.

“It seems that you were about to meet a very uncomfortable question with Lady Joanna,” Oberyn began.

“So you decided to intervene then? Ah, my hero,” you stated.

The smiles never faded from either of your faces as you two began to walk around the gallery. When you were passing by an entry to a hallway of another gallery, Oberyn nodded towards it and guided you to walk through it, and when you got there you were amazed by the two pieces adorned on either side of the wall.

The first one we saw was on all accounts a technical masterpiece, but as I was looking at it all I felt was cold calculating movements and techniques that are being taught today. The second one however was of a landscape, and it looked like it was of Dorne, there was a familiarity to it and a warmth surrounding the piece that I felt like I was home already.

“So what do you think?” Oberyn asks.

“Well, the first one felt frigid like it was only made to be appraised for its techniques and nothing else. However this one, this one, felt so warm, so comforting, it feels like hiraeth,” you say as you turn to him.

He hums in acknowledgement and looks at you with a small smile on his face.

“This was my sister’s favorite, and behind was our father’s commission piece, I think you spoke well on the differences here. I feel the same, I began to feel that this was my favorite as well, after she died. What is hiraeth? I’ve never heard that word before,” Oberyn responded.

“It means to be homesick for a home that never existed,” I answered.

Oberyn nodded in acknowledgement and we both turned to the painting again, looking at the beautiful image in front of us. The distant voices of the rest of the guests slowly faded away as we continued to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with each other. I felt a pull towards him, I wanted to hold his hand so badly, it was strange, but did he feel the same? I glanced quickly to see our hands reaching for each other and we felt our fingertips touch. As soon as we felt them we heard a loud crash. With that loud crash, our little microcosm came crashing down with that sound.

We turned to the source of the sound and we were greeted with the sight of my brother Benedict sliding on the floor and met my eyes.

“Ah there you two are, I was wondering where you ran off to,” Benedict states.

“Like I didn’t see you running off to see your mentor just in time to avoid Lady Joanna,” I bounced back at him.

“That doesn’t prove anything, dear sister, and anyway we should be getting back, I should escort you back to the house, even if you do have a suitor now,” Benedict eyed Oberyn as he spoke.

“I hope to see you soon, maybe we shall go for a picnic?” Oberyn asks you.

“Speaking of picnics, well not really, how would you want to come to dinner one day? Our mother seems keen on meeting you properly, you know my brothers, and my precious little sister, but pray my mother, so here is an invitation for you to come over tomorrow. Don’t worry, mother knows about it (Y/N),” Benedict interrupts.

I just gaped at him as I heard him talk, I knew my mother wanted to talk to Oberyn, but have him over for dinner? Isn’t that a bit much? I turn to Oberyn, I see he had a lazy grin stretched across his face.

“Well, how can I say no to such an invitation,” Oberyn lamented and he claps his hands together looking between the three of you with a smile on his face.

With that you all started to head back into the thrums of the gathering in the gallery, as Benedict walked ahead you walked a bit slower with Oberyn.

“I am eager, adamant and sincere about this relationship, honeybee, and I hope you and your family see it that way as well,” Oberyn tells you.

“Oberyn, you make my heart burn with such sweetness that you say to me, and if you keep that up I’m sure my mother will fall under your charm as well,” I murmured to him.

After that my brother and I said our farewells to the appropriate guests and we headed our way back home.

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News has reached all of my brothers and sisters about how Duke Oberyn has finally decided to make an appearance to the Bridgerton estate, which got my sisters and mother very excited about this new man coming to visit that wasn’t family.

My brother, Anthony, seemed to be brooding the most about this new development, which I could’ve seen coming from a mile away. Colin and Benedict were taking it better then expected except now they have decided would be an excellent time to warn me against Oberyn even more vehemently before. I still don’t understand why my brothers are so against this, I like him, isn’t that enough? Or is it because they were friends in the same academy?

The preparations have made for the table and the maids and butlers have made sure that everything is pristine in the household, and as the time ticks down for Oberyn to arrive, I’ve become increasingly more worried that something might go wrong.

Then once the hour arrived, we got word that Oberyn had arrived and we all got ready to greet him. Oberyn walked into the drawing room where we all were loitering, Hyacinth and Eloise were reading and embroidering, I was talking to my mother, and the three brothers were all talking amongst each other. Once we were aware of his presence we all said our polite greetings, with my mother going straight away to compliment him which Oberyn took and reflected back to her.

We all made our way to the dining table where the food was already present on the table, as we all took our seats Oberyn moved his way to me and sat down with me.

Then dinner began and with that our usual chaotic family conversation began. Hyacinth refusing to eat her vegetables, Eloise teasing her, Benedict and Colin teasing each other and shoving each other at the table and my mother chastising every one of them.

Oberyn leans to whisper to me, “I didn’t know family meals could be so entertaining.”

“Oh you should see them during the holidays, they’re entertainment all by themselves,” I whisper back.

I look up and see Anthony glaring at us, I turn back to Oberyn and asked him, “Why is Anthony so opposed to our relationship?”

“He’s your brother, ask him,” Oberyn answered.

“And he’s your friend, plus he won’t talk to me no matter how many times I ask,” I pressured him,

“I think it’s all about my past, I normally wouldn’t have seen myself with a longtime commitment but with you I do, and I think your brother is having difficulty realizing that I grew out of my adolescence,” he answered.

I nod and smile at him in understanding, I reach for his hand under the table and squeeze it in reassurance, which in turn made him smile at me.

“Well, Duke, I have seen and heard that you have become quite attached with my dear daughter,” my mother spoke up.

Oberyn straightens his back in his chair and he replies, “I am very much attached with her, Lady Violet. I’ve come to nickname her honeybee.”

“Did you allow him to call you this?” Anthony glared.

“Yes I did, brother, and he allowed me to just say his first name as well, I do hope you realize that we are sincere about each other,” I replied.

Anthony sighed while mother gave me a soft smile in return, and I looked to see Oberyn beaming at me.

“Well, Duke, I do hope to see you marry her before the season ends, it’d be a shame to see this season go to waste,” my mother pestered.

“Mother,” I warned her and all I got in return was a confused look from my mother.

“I have every plans on doing so actually, I hope for every one of you to see how sincere and earnest I am with your daughter,” he turns to me and takes my hand and he kisses it lightly, “she has me so under her spell, she has me bewitched body and soul, and I am not sure how any marriage proposal would befit how she has me feel.”

I felt my whole body flush with heat and tears pricked my eyes at the praises and endearments he was giving me. He was ethereal, otherworldly, with how he treated me and I swear to the old gods that if that wasn’t his marriage proposal then-

“Well I think that was as good of a marriage proposal as any,” Hyacinth quipped from the other side of the table.

Oberyn’s face turned as red as the roses set on the table. I see from the corner of my eye my mother nods to Oberyn and he takes a deep breath. He stands up and kneels before me with both of my hands in his and what I saw in his eyes made it click in my head what was happening.

“(Y/N), my honeybee, we may have known each other for two months and started courting for half of that time, but I already know in my heart of hearts that you own my everything already. Whenever we part I am always thinking of our next meeting, and I may have already talked to your mother about this, and I want you to make me the luckiest man in all of the world, and let me call you my wife as I am already yours fully, so you can call me husband. So will you marry me?”

Tears flowed down my face as I slid off my chair to cling onto him tightly as I said, “Yes, a thousand times yes, I will marry you Oberyn Martell, I love you so much.”

“As I do you, my love, I love you too,” he whispers to me as he caresses my head.

Applaud littered the dining hall with my family congratulating us as well as the staff on our new engagement. As we stood in this new feeling, I reveled in it and I felt elated, like I was floating and I couldn’t get down even if I wanted to.

I looked at Oberyn and he looked at me with such love and adoration that I knew I made the right choice. I found the love of my life and I found it in him.

#oberyn x reader #Oberyn Martell #oberyn martell x reader #the red viper #game of thrones #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #midnight post #sorry i had to get this out here #bridgerton inspired #bridgerton #bridgerton au #regency era au #au

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gallickingun · 4 years

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last chance || b.k.

SUMMARY: After All Might’s demise at the hands of an unlikely hero-turned-villain, the world unfurls into chaos. Villains run rampant, heroes are dying in the streets, and you are left with a rowdy group of renegades to seek out the legendary Ground Zero, a vigilante that you’ve only encountered through ghost stories. After narrowing down his sightings to one central location, you are sent out to beseech him for help, if he even truly exists in the first place.

PAIRING: Apocalyptic Pro Hero!Bakugou x Renegade!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, violence, smut, etc. WORD COUNT: 7.3k+

FOREWORD: For all intents and purposes, we’re going to pretend that All Might hasn’t lost his power, even after handing it off to Deku!

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

Author’s Note: This is my submission for the bnharem nsfw collab, apocalypse edition! I was shocked that I was able to snag Bakugou on my first round of collaboration, and I’m so stoked to read all of the other fics! The masterlist can be found HERE. This might feel a little OOC, but hopefully it makes sense by the end. It is an AU after all.

“The Symbol of Peace is dead.”

You pull the bandana further up around your mouth and nose, the ash in the air seeping into your lungs, clouding your vision as the debris strains your breathing. Your ankles ache, mile after mile threatening to grind your bones to dust.

“It would seem we never knew the true power of All Might’s quirk, now known as One for All.”

A thickness swells up in your throat, your eyes blurring with tears, and yet you keep walking. You push through the thickets of overgrown foliage, slashing away with the machete you usually keep tucked against your hip. Crying will do nothing to help you, not now. Tears are for the weak.

“He had passed on his power to a successor, a young student named Midoriya Izuku.”

The darkness of night helps to hide you from those who want you slain where you stand. Your black clothing keeps you but a shadow amongst the trees, concealing your identity to anyone who might gaze upon the horizon. Even though you are alone, your mission keeps you company.

“The young boy became an amazing Pro Hero, climbing the charts quite fast once graduating from Yuuei High. And then, something happened.”

You grit your teeth when you see your destination ahead �� a large cliff, covered in moss and dense, lush kudzu. There is a cave carved into the side of it, hardly able to be seen from the distance with which you are currently separated from it. And yet, you’ve been dreaming about this place for years, ever since the overture.

“It would seem that young Midoriya Izuku, also known as Deku, has killed the Symbol of Peace.

All Might is dead.”

The weight of the world settles on your shoulders at the memory of the news broadcast. It is like this new path you’ve gone down has formed you into some sort of Atlas, a woman in charge of holding the world together from the shadows, as if it may fall apart if you falter for even the slightest of moments. Your knees ache and your back is slick with sweat, but somehow you manage to shoulder the burden and keep walking, galaxies treading in your wake.

After all, finding Ground Zero is your responsibility.

“We need him.”

You brush your hair from your eyes, looking down at the map strewn out in tatters on the tabletop, “No one has seen him, not really. He’s practically a myth, a legend. Even if he’s real, what makes you think he’ll help us?”

The redhead beside you slams his fists together, the echoing sound of stone impacting stone reverberating in the room. You wince at the sharpness of it, but combined with the determined expression rooted within his features, you feel a renewed sense of purpose settled into your spine. You straighten up, curling your hands to fists, and match his manifestation of conviction with a grit of your teeth and tilt of your head.

“You’re right, Kirishima,” you point to the central location on the map, the one you’ve been investigating for what feels like years, “Ground Zero will be there. And I’m going to convince him to help us.”

The stone bites into your blunt nails, drawing blood that makes it even more difficult to scale the side of the structure. You knew this would come, so the makeshift climbing gear strapped to your waist keeps you secure as you continue to lower yourself down.

At the mouth of the cave, you see a small overhang, just far enough past the opening for you to land. Once you’ve gotten close enough that you know you won’t fall to your death into whatever disastrous demise may greet you thousands of feet below, you drop onto the ledge. Your knees wobble, ankles turned at just the right angle that they absorb most of your fall.

The opening of the cavern is dark; ominous smoke leaking from the front of it, furling around in midair. Your body shudders, a chill sending a fresh wave of goosebumps over your skin, and for a moment you wonder if you should retreat.

Kirishima’s crimson eyes, hard set and piercing, are all you can see when you close your eyes. His voice rings in your ears, reminding you that this is what you must do, you have to find Ground Zero. He is the only one capable of taking down Deku.

You swallow, bracing your spine and curling your fists, forcing yourself to take the first step forward. There is a curtain of vines separating the inside of the cave from you. You reach forward, curling your fingers around the thick, verdant tendrils, and push them to the sides so you may walk through.

Every single nerve within your body vibrates with the knowledge that you may die here in this cave, alone and forgotten. Your lower lip wobbles, but you stamp down the negative emotions and rather channel them into something akin to confidence. Once you’ve passed through to the other side, you release the vines and find yourself shrouded in darkness.

It takes a moment, but your eyes adjust eventually. You can make out the walls of the cave, glistening and jagged, and you use the reach of your arms to press against the rocky surface, guiding yourself further down the winding path. It is strange when you feel a substance much more powdery beneath your touch, and when you pull your hand away to smell it, the scent reminds you of soot.

Sweat rolls down your spine, tickling your skin, but you do not have the patience nor the ability to redirect your attention to it, for fear of what might happen when you refocus to something less important. You hold your breath, trying to listen as best you can for any and all sounds echoing within the walls of the cave, but all you hear is quiet.

Your imagination begins to wander as you take each step, furthering the horrific ends you’ve conjured up for yourself within the confines of your mind. The chill of the cave in tandem with your sweat creates steam from your body, rising high and bringing forth a bout of humidity that gives your lungs more difficulty.

Turning a corner, you feel the air begin to get warmer. You force yourself to take short breaths, bringing oxygen to flow back through your blood as it rushes through you, thundering in your ears. The sound does little to quell the panic rising in your throat, like a billow of smoke suffocating you as it rolls through your body.

Fear grips your heart when you hear the first sound.

You stop, turning your feet in case you need to bolt in the opposite direction. Your eyes are widened, pupils dilated in the dark to try and accommodate. It does not repeat itself, but rather alters, when you hear it again.

“Tch.”

The human-like nature of the sound brings about a whole new level of anxiety, lightning strikes underneath your skin as reality settles in. You lick at your lips, the dryness of your mouth ever present when you prepare yourself for a speech. You continue down the cave pathway, the faint glow of orange beginning to color the walls, giving you more light to see your feet in front of you.

Eventually you are able to stumble through the cavern on your own now, without the guide of your hands on the rock on either side of you. Shallow breaths fill your lungs, erratic breathing making your shoulders shake in anticipation. You lick at the seams of your gums, begging your mind to call forth a beautiful string of words that will convince this legendary vigilante to once again rise up, with the backing of your renegade fighters, to take down the villainous once-hero Deku.

You come up on the furthermost part of the cave, the base of it opening up and rounding out to provide the hideaway with a spacious enough cavity to serve as a living space.

Your eyes are drawn to every inch of the room, starting with the wall where weapons are strung up like trophies. Chiseled into the stone are hollows in the shape of guns and knives and grenades, acting like shelving for the tools of destruction. Beneath it is the fire pit, burning high with flames, licking up at the air and peeling away what little oxygen remains. You find it harder to breathe here, mostly in part to the depth of the cave and the ongoing fire, stealing the breath from your very lungs.

Then your eyes find him, his back to you, settled on a log that will most likely be used for firewood at a later date. Your tongue feels like a sandbag in your mouth and you can’t force yourself to produce enough saliva to make up for the smoke in your throat.

And then he rises.

He is every bit as beautiful as they said he would be in all of the stories. Tales of bulging muscle and tall stature, hands that save the world with each flex of his knuckles, scars littering his body like a map, or like veins of pain running through slabs of chiseled marble.

He turns, and his eyes seem familiar.

You take a hesitant step forward, captivate by his serious stare. The rivulets of crimson and amber swirling in his irises make you want to drown in a lake of fire, burned at the stake for the sake of his cause. Your body cannot resist him, so you draw closer, further into the heat, begging yourself to become a slave to it so long as it means you can continue to find him in the flames.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You are fumbling for words when he speaks again, “You’re wasting my time, baka. I’m not sure what about the sight of a secluded, secret cave gave you the idea to waltz in here like you own the damned place, but I’m kind of busy. So leave.”

The way your eyes roam around his abode, settling on each small space and dissecting it for everything that it is worth, unsettles him. He steps closer to you, blocking your vision with his wide shoulders.

“It doesn’t look like you’re very busy.”

The words are blurted from your mouth with little forethought, but they have you both reeling, your hands slapped over your lips as if you could take them back with simple action. The man stood in front of you shifts into some sort of attack position, hands curled into fists and the air begins to smell sickly sweet.

“Fucking bitch,” he bites the words as they exit his teeth, narrowing his eyes to you until they are but slits, “Get the hell out!”

“No, no!” You are flailing now, the impending doom of your failure to bring him back with you turning your stomach into knots. You shake your head, reaching out to press your hands to his chest, “Listen, please, you are Ground Zero, are you not?”

The sound of his own name echoing in the cave gives him pause. He tilts his head, ashen locks falling over his line of sight. You notice his head is buzzed at the base, nothing but blonde stubble left behind, however the top of his head is covered with pale locks of spike hair, as if he himself is a bomb ready to be blown at all times.

“I don’t know who the hell told you where to find me, but I’m not the guy you’re looking for.” He smacks your hands away with the back of his wrist, turning to stalk back to the fire. Once he settles on his stump again, he pulls another skewer of meat from a pack off to the side, rotating it over the fire to begin roasting it.

All you can think is how much of a let down this entire trip has been. You have walked for miles, for days, in order to hunt him down. You have hidden in jungles and abandoned buildings, and almost been caught by several villains with quirks you almost could not overpower on your own.

“Kirishima spoke so highly of you,” your voice is faraway, like you are on another plane of existence, looking down on him from above, “I thought you’d be more heroic than this.”

At the sound of your friend’s name, the man’s head tilts, eyes shifting as he looks over his shoulder at you, “Kirishima? Eijirou?”

“Y-You know Kiri?”

You take a cautious step forward, unsure of whether he believes Kirishima to be a friend or a foe. His eyes are lost, somewhere between here and there, unable to focus on any one thing as he rolls the name around on his tongue, tasting the distant memories there while they play out against the cavern walls for only his eyes to see.

“Kirishima was my-” he pauses, gritting his teeth together as his knuckles turn white around the skewer, “…he was my friend.”

The man stands to his feet, discarding the half-cooked slab of meat into the fire, “If Kirishima sent you, then things must be bad.”

You nod, striding forward until you are just close enough that his body heat is intoxicating, and the scent from earlier, the one that makes your head spin with saccharine promises, fills your nostrils until you cannot make out anything else.

“We need your help,” you say, voice wavering in the middle, “Deku has started to search for every hero, every renegade, and he’s murdering them. I came to bring you back to the rest of those who are still fighting. You are a legend, if we have your help, there’s no way we’ll lose.”

A wry smirk adorns his mouth, quirking his lips upward, “Kid, I don’t know who told you I was a legend, or that I’d be of any help, but I’m out here for a reason.”

“Just come back with me,” you plead, resisting the desire to wrap your fists around his tank and pull, “we need you.”

There is a hesitant look in his vermilion irises, something that tells you he is still hiding something. But, he straightens his spine anyway, a deep breath puffing out his chest, “I always did like to kick Deku’s ass.”

You cannot contain the beaming smile on your face, even when you turn on your heels to begin walking out of the cave and back to the light.

Which keeps you from seeing the dejected look in his eyes.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Weeks of planning the perfect attack have brought you and Ground Zero closer.

Although now you know him as Bakugou Katsuki.

When he first reunited with Kirishima, and his presence was made known to your rag-tag team, you were shaken at the realization that legends are people too. Even in his vigilante times, Bakugou still held that same spark that lit his flame throughout the duration of his time at Yuuei, much of which he spent with Kirishima by his side.

“Holy shit, man!” Kirishima reaches around his shoulders for a hug, which Bakugou hardly reciprocates, “I can’t believe Ground Zero is you!”

There are moments where you catch his gaze lingering on you – when you are cooking dinner, when you chop firewood – and of course your eyes find him too. He trains shirtless most of the time, body on display as the sweat rolls down his body. His knuckles are bruised and his body is battered, and yet he continues to get up every day and start all over again.

You do note that you have not seen him use his quirk, not since he arrived at your renegade hideaway. It seems to be in reverie of everything going on, but from what you remember, Bakugou Katsuki was not a shy man, never one to keep himself from the spotlight. It is why he is the only one who pushed himself hard enough to compete with Deku, and to stay as his rival.

When you ask Kirishima, he just shrugs it off, “He probably doesn’t want any attention. Would you, if you felt like you had run away when the world needed another hero?”

So you co-exist. He near you, and you near him. Always orbiting, but never colliding.

There are times where you allow your affections to slip. When you’re passing him by, a gentle palm on his hip to alert him of your presence. When he reaches above you to pull a weapon off the shelf, his hand finds purchase at the base of your spine, as if steadying himself even though he is one of the sturdiest men you have ever seen.

There is a moment, a drunken haze, that leads you to believe he might even kiss you, however it is gone before it has the ability to flower into anything more.

Time passes, months that feel like years, of tracking and sleuthing and killing. There is murder on both sides, and you have both suffered losses.

One night he finds you, sitting on the beach, your tears glittering like starlight on your cheeks.

“This is war,” he says, squatting in the sand, “none of us is innocent.”

You sniffle, rubbing your arm against your face to rid it of your transgressions, “And what about those who want to be?”

Bakugou reaches forward, a careful palm gliding over your cheek as a new bout of tears springs forth like a leak. You can’t see the sad smile on his face through your tears, your vision glassy and clouded, and he is thankful that you cannot spot his weakness. He brushes the tears away and turns your head with the gentle flick of his wrist, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

You want to crumble, to falter and fall into a million shards of glass, and he knows this. He must, because there’s no way that the pressure of the lives of the rest of the world does not eat away at one’s soul until there is nothing but barren earth left. You circle your hand around his wrist, leaning your cheek into his palm so you can feel the heat of him and find comfort in his touch.

“What if we never get there?”

You can’t look at him, not when your scars are on display. Your heart wrenches in your chest and the pain is like a thousand cuts littered across your body until you are nothing but bleeding wounds. In your mind, you’ve succumbed to the sea of red, drowning in it, choking on it.

Bakugou does a strange thing then. He presses his other palm to your waist, drawing you forward so he can kiss the smooth skin of your forehead, “Don’t be an idiot.”

And then he turns to leave.

Your forehead burns like a blister with the echo of his affections.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

The time finally comes.

After months of research and loss, there is a plan.

“We know where he’s hiding,” Kirishima points to a central location on the map, releasing a breath as he looks up to Bakugou, “the guards will change shift at midnight, and that’s when you’ll attack. We’ll be on the ground to distract any other, smaller threats, but we’re counting on you to take him down in the end.”

Bakugou shoves Kirishima, but he falters himself, eyes unable to focus on any one thing, “I know, idiot. You didn’t bring me all the way out here to take my victory from me.”

You smile at the scene, catching his gaze as he turns to look back at the rest of the room. There is a crack in his armor when he sees you, confidence melting into something else, another emotion you can’t quite pin down. And you’re not sure if you really want to.

The rest of the meeting is all logistics, something you have already heard a dozen times, so you find yourself wandering along the coastline, the night air washing like a balm over you, sea salt in your lungs when you breathe. Your feet are barely in the water, but enough for it to lap up around your ankles with foam when the waves crest to shore. You hold yourself around the middle, as if you might be able to keep your broken pieces from shattering if you squeeze tightly enough.

Tears of salt match that of the ocean as the droplets roll down your cheeks, hanging on your jaw until they are too weighty, and then they fall into the seawater, melded together as if they belong. Your fingers ache, digging into your biceps to give yourself some sort of anchor while you watch the moon and stars shift in the night sky.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The words are reminiscent of the first time you met, all those months ago. They make you smile, a gentle huff of a laugh escaping your lips, even if the gesture does not quite reach your eyes. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, arms still wrapped around your torso, the jagged edges of your soul sinking in deeper the more you try to hide your faltering pieces.

“Thinking,” you answer quietly, soft voice almost overwhelmed by the waves.

Bakugou is drawn in closer, as if you are the sea, a siren calling to him from the beyond, and he strides forward until he is parallel with you. His eyes watch the waves, but the pull is to you, and he can only resist for so long.

“It’s just Deku,” he is trying to reassure you, reaching out to rest his palm on your neck, sifting fingers through the hair at the nape of it. “I won’t lose to him, not again.”

This brings your attention to his eyes, your body turning so you can approach him head-on, fear wracking your body like a storm. You gaze up at him, jaw quivering under the stress of your teeth grinding against one another, “Why did he do it?”

His hand glides from your neck to your jaw, tilting your eyes upward so you cannot look away from him, in spite of how difficult this conversation might be to have. He has not spoken of his childhood rival for what feels like an eternity; airing out his burdened confessions is but a foreign concept. He would rather keep them bottled away within the cage of his ribs, until the poison slowly dredges through his veins and he can fall away into some deep sleep brought on by death.

“No one could have expected it,” Bakugou starts, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he speaks, like the ministrations may give him the groundwork to have the conversation, “but One for All had too many wielders, had grown too powerful. Deku’s body couldn’t contain it and still stay sane.”

Bakugou looks frustrated, his brow tugged so his forehead wrinkles. You reach up to brush your thumb over the creased skin, “I’ve heard the stories. That the call to power was too strong, and he never told anyone because he was afraid of being weak.”

“Izuku has never been weak.”

His voice is ragged, as if glass has been lodged into his throat to inhibit his speech. Bakugou turns his head so you cannot see the emotion welling up in his eyes, “All Might should have seen it, but by the time he caught it, Deku had already gone mad. He snapped All Might’s neck on live television, the fucking bastard.”

The heaviness of the situation sits on your shoulders and you wonder if Bakugou has ever felt the burden of Atlas; you recall the significant burden weighing you down when you were first sent to retrieve him. Your mortal body wanted to crumble beneath the importance of your mission, you can’t even begin to fathom the overwhelming guilt he must be riddled with every day from the moment he wakes until he falls asleep.

“Then he came after the rest of us, one-by-one. Todoroki was next, then Uraraka.” Bakugou swallows the thick, pent-up emotion settled in his throat like barbed wire. He steels his gaze, even though it is only focused on the moon. “Kirishima was able to take a group of heroes and hide out when Deku came for me.”

You recall the fight like a movie playing on the backs of your eyelids. Bakugou and Deku fighting head to head, lightning and explosions igniting the swirling storm the unfurled around them. Pouring rain and debris flying, small tornados brought on by the use of Deku’s quirk, destroying the nearby buildings until there was nothing left.

Bakugou’s voice is heady, hands fallen from your face as if he no longer deserves to touch you. He takes a step backward, the roaring of the ocean giving him a pause, as if he were listening to the water for some sort of encouragement to continue his tale, to keep fighting.

You can’t help but wonder if losing the proverbial fight against Deku has tarnished his soul much deeper than he would ever admit, if his body has been at war with itself for years, unable to choose a side, unable to relent.

“I fought him for what felt like hours. Whatever One for All had done to him, corrupted his mind, broken his spirit,” Bakugou shakes his head, a snarl on his lips, “that wasn’t Deku that I was fighting. That was someone else.”

His breath hitches, “I-I’m not sure what the fuck possessed him to do what he did next, but he took-”

Bakugou’s throat bobs and his eyes flit from you to the water, unable to look at you in the face as he gnaws on his lower lip. The words must be too harsh, a pain running much further than skin deep. You know that his soul must be bruised, the very core of him broken beyond recognition.

“Took what, Katsuki?” you ask gently, reaching to tug his chin back so he is looking down at you, “You can tell me.”

Bakugou’s breathing is labored, quick, a mixture of frustration and anguish pressing down on his throat like a pair of hands, encasing his esophagus in a tight grip. He shakes his head, “He, uh- he let me go.”

It sounds disingenuous coming from his mouth, as if he’s forcing a lie through his teeth, his voice grating against his gums like metal. You reach out to touch his arm, but he sloughs you off with a quick movement, taking a step and pushing you further. Tears glisten in his eyes, but he does not let them fall; he cannot lose the battle with his body too. He looks up to the moon and lets loose a feral growl, crumbling to his knees and digging his hands into the wet sand, like tearing into it might provide him some sort of release.

“And then I tucked my fucking tail and I ran. Like a goddamn coward.” Bakugou’s jaw is rippling when he snaps his attention to you, eyes ablaze with red fire, “And that’s the hero you all claim to have needed. I wasn’t a hero, I was a fucking pussy. I was weak.”

Bakugou rises from the water, a murderous glare in his eyes, “And now I’m done being weak. I’m going to finish what I couldn’t before, I’m going to kill the bastard.”

You have let him vent his personal failures into the air, but now it is your turn to speak. Circling your fingers around his wrists, you pull yourself closer to him, as if the two of you are bound by an invisible thread.

“You’re not going alone,” you tell him, voice sure. You stand rooted in the ground, feet dug deep in the sand, “I won’t let you.”

He rolls his eyes, blowing a breath out of his nose, “And you think I’ll let you? No fucking way.”

The words sit on your tongue, burning like embers, syllables you’ve been stoking for months as you’ve grown closer to him. Your body rises up on your toes on instinct alone, eyelashes fluttering shut as you take him in one last time. You grit your teeth and a breath shudders from your lungs, shattering your heart like glass.

Your fingers traipse up his torso, climbing over the mounds of muscle that he has worked so hard to perfect. You feel the heat of tears well up in the back of your eyes, your vision blurred as you try to memorize everything about him in the short time you have left. When your palms reach his cheeks, fingertips dancing against warm, tanned skin, you can’t help but to tug yourself closer.

He can barely protest before you have melded your mouth to his, arching your back so your chest is flush with the broad plane of muscle in front of you. Bakugou hesitates, but just as you are about to pull away and profusely apologize, his arms snake around your waist to yank you closer. Your hips roll into his reflexively, finding the hardened length of his cock almost instantly.

Bakugou’s kiss is bruising, a heated ferocity driving him forward to part your lips at the seams, delving his tongue between your teeth at the first chance he receives. You moan at his affections, your hands threading through his hair, pinkies finding the stubble of his undercut while the others sift between blonde locks.

Tears are pushed from your eyelids, and he feels them against his cheeks as he kisses you. Bakugou slips his hands under the thin fabric of your tattered shirt, warmth spreading from the base of your spine outward to every extremity.

“I won’t lose you,” you manage between breaths, forcing the words out despite the possibility of his rejection.

Bakugou does not stop loitering affection over you like it were his job just because you show a moment of vulnerability. Rather, he’s spurred on by the admission, his hands digging deeper into your muscles now, most likely leaving bruises in their wake, and his teeth and tongue are merciless on your mouth.

The palms of his hands slowly drift down until he has cupped your thighs, his body folded just enough to give him a better angle to pull you up into the air. You hold in a squeal, unwilling to alert the rest of the camp, quickly wrapping your legs around his waist.

He breaks the kiss as oxygen begs his airways to open up once more, heaving breaths making his chest expand with sharp inhales. Through gasping breaths, he shakes his head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You’re not sure how best to beg him to take you for all you’re worth here on the beach, but somehow you must silently communicate it, because he finds a secluded place and lays you down there, your back dug into the ground, but you are rather uncaring to it all. Your hands can’t find enough of him, insatiable in your efforts to map him out to memory, burning the impression of him into your mind so you may never lose him, even if something tragic were to part the two of you forever.

Bakugou’s fingers make quick work of the button of your shorts, delving his hand inside to brush at the bare folds of your core, already slick with arousal. He chuckles, nudging his nose over your neck, “Prepared for this, were you?”

A laugh is cut short by a whine, his teeth sinking into your jugular, sucking harshly on the skin there. Your hands find his shoulders, blunt nails bludgeoning the skin of his shoulders so he is seething into your body, curses flying from his lips as if they might brand your flesh if he whispers them hotly enough.

You whimper his name as he sheathes his fingers within you, two knuckles stretching your inner walls, scissored fingers making you throw your head back. Your body does not feel like your own, every wanton moan and twitch of your muscles in response to his salacious ministrations, reactions that you cannot fight, even if you wanted to.

Giving in, you reach down desperately, clawing your nails at the waistband of his cargo pants, uncaring as to how you get your palm underneath his underwear. Bakugou uses the hand not buried in your pussy to grab you by the wrist, pinning your hand over your head.

“You’re a needy little slut, hah?” Bakugou tightens his grip and speeds up his pace, earning him a wriggle from your body as you try to fight back. He smirks, teeth and gums on full display as he glowers down at you, “Don’t you worry, baby, I’m gonna give you my cock. Be patient.”

You whine in response, tilting your head to try and capture his lips again. Bakugou finds you halfway, his mouth parted so you can begin mapping out the curves of his teeth with your tongue. You kiss him as if your life may depend on it, like the time you are sharing may end at any moment.

You kiss him like he may die tomorrow.

There is fervor and passion and admiration conveyed with each smacking of your lips, your noses brushing when you try to angle yourselves to become closer. All the while, his middle and fourth fingers are working you forward into the throws of pleasure, lightning striking your core whenever his fingers brush up against your glutinous walls in just the right manner.

“Katsuki, please,” you beg of him, dragging your nails over the corded muscle of his shoulders. You can feel yourself slipping already, the impending doom of what is to come giving your body more urgency.

Bakugou growls when he feels your cunt clamp around his fingers, the thought of his cock within your tight hole making him dick twitch. You buck up when the head of his length brushes your thigh in his arousal, seeking him out despite the fullness you already feel from his digits pumping up into your heat.

Your whole body is shaking with the threat of your impending orgasm on the horizon, brought on by his disastrous fingers urging you forward. You cry out for him, wanton and begging as you pant his name repeatedly, rocking your hips with the rhythm of his fingers. Bakugou’s eyes roam your body as he leans back from you, gaze immediately drawn to the bounce of your plush chest. With each thrust of his fingers, your body quivers, and he knows he won’t be able to last apart from you for much longer, regardless.

As his fingers slowly peel from you, a whine tears your chest wide open. Tears drip down over your cheeks, a mixture of emotion and erotica giving the sound much more conviction. Bakugou feels the reverberations of your voice in his chest, stirring him to brush your silken slick along the length of his cock, pumping his shaft a few times before repositioning himself above you.

Bakugou rolls his wrist so the tip of his dick butterflies your pussy lips. You pant at the exhilaration of it all, your cunt fluttering as he pulls himself away from you only to bring it all back. His teasing strokes make your head spin, eyes barely able to peel open to look up at him. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, and Bakugou leans forward to tug the muscle between his teeth, earning him an animalistic howl from the back of your throat.

The plea from you gives him the last push he needs to rut forward and claim you in one fatal stroke.

Your hands sink into him like hooks, eyes screwed shut as he starts to suck on your tongue. Bakugou’s breath spills over you like a wash of heat, sending a shudder down your spine. He uses his hands to grip you by the thighs, yanking you closer so your hips are flush as he sinks all the way into you all over again.

“Ka-” you can barely make a sound with the way his mouth has destroyed yours, suffocating you until you are lightheaded with the thought of him. As you struggle beneath him, Bakugou releases you in favor of leaning back to watch as his cock separates your walls and fills your cunt until it stretches to fit his thick girth.

You are a blubbering mess the moment he allows you space to breathe. Your hands can’t find enough of him to paint with your touch, nails dragging thin, angry red lines into his thighs, and your throat only knows how to say his name.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, watching you come undone beneath him, “I can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

His dick is rutting into you at an impeccable pace, the tip of his cock brushing against your walls as he twitches from your tight pussy. Bakugou digs his fingers into the skin of your thighs, likely bruising them with the intensity of his grip, pushing your knees back until they are pressed against your chest so he can fuck into you from above.

You lick your lips, thin rivulets of drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth, “Please, Bakugou, I-I wanna come.”

The desire to rip your arousal from you until you cannot speak in full sentences gives him a fiery drive, his hips slamming into your ass as filthy words fall from his lips. You can feel his cock bottoming out within your cunt, thickening with each stroke of his hips as he grows closer to the end himself. You beg for his spend, for him to coat you until you are dripping with his seed, the mixture of your arousal and his pre seeping from your lips and furthering the wet sounds that echo whenever his balls slap against your ass.

“You wanna come on my cock, yeah?” he asks, voice dithering the longer he’s within you. You are begging him now, your back arched forward so you can seek him out with wide eyes and pleading palms. He soaks in the affections, your hands on his face and in his hair, your lips finding purchase on whatever part of his body you can reach.

A snarl makes his throat shake and, if possible, he rips into your even further, growling voice speaking into your ear as you fall back against the ground at the sheer force of his hips, “Then fucking come, slut.”

His words are all you need to push you into the next plane of existence, where a shattering orgasm racks your body. You convulse around his cock, the newfound tightness as you milk your own release pushing him over the crest as well. He drives his cock as deep into you as he can, your hips flush at the juxtaposition of your sex as he spurts up into your core. You feel the heat of his release, the twitch of his cock, and your limbs grow numb from effort.

Bakugou leans forward so he is balancing himself on his forearms, nosing over the swell of your chest and the column of your neck, small, chaste kisses littered over your skin like stars. He sighs, nudging your collarbone, “You’re not coming with me tomorrow. I won’t lose you too.”

Your heart sings at his admission, and your spirit wants to argue, but when he kisses you again, you can’t find it within yourself to tell him otherwise.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

“All right, man,” Kirishima claps him on the back, leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway.

You can tell that there is much more he wants to say, but Bakugou has never had much patience for any sort of sappy confession, so all that passes between them is a nod of understanding. You, on the other hand, are careless in your affection, launching yourself forward to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him full on the mouth, uncaring for the onlookers unbeknownst to your time together.

When you pull away, there are tears in your eyes, but you force the words between your teeth regardless, “Don’t die on me.”

Bakugou’s eyes are sad, holding such a dark color in his usually bright irises, “A real hero always comes out on top, no matter what.”

Usually it is said with much conviction, but this time, it sounds like he is trying to convince himself more so than anyone else. Your hands palm over his face, committing him to memory one last time before he turns his back to you, headed towards the end of the line, unknowing as to which side he may end up on this time.

As soon as he steps out onto the pavement, he’s greeted with the familiar laughter of an old friend.

“Oi, Kacchan. It’s been too long.”

Your heart leaps into your throat and Kirishima has to hold you back, hidden away in the shadows. You look at him over your shoulder, eyes blown wide as your pupils swallow your irises, “H-He was supposed to be alone.”

The look in Kirishima’s eyes is haunting, a desolate gaze turned on his best friend. He tightens his jaw and breathes heavily through his nostrils, an answer never given as he watches on in horror at the scene in front of him unfolding.

“I thought I told you to get lost,” Deku speaks, voice confusingly innocent despite the feral look in his eyes. A cackle parts his lips and you’ve never seen Bakugou this quiet during a fight, “But, then again, wouldn’t a fight between the All Mighty Deku and a Quirkless Kacchan be entertaining?”

Your whole world turns sideways.

Bakugou’s words from the very beginning replay on loop in your mind as your breathing corrupts your own lungs, shattered and shaking as your body coats itself in sweat.

His breath hitches, “I-I’m not sure what the fuck possessed him to do what he did next, but he took-”

“Took what, Katsuki?” you ask gently, reaching to tug his chin back so he is looking down at you, “You can tell me.”

Bakugou Katsuki is quirkless.

Now more than ever you want to dart out into the street, to throw yourself down like a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter. Whatever it takes to keep Katsuki safe. Tears blur your vision and anger scars your heart, marring up the organ until you cannot feel it beating within your own chest.

Bakugou turns his head, vermilion eyes seeking you out in the darkness of the alleyway. He smiles, for the first time in full, and offers you one final look at his body completely intact before he returns his gaze to his childhood rival, hands turning to fists at his sides as he gets into his fighting position.

“So pathetic, Kacchan.” Deku looks Bakugou in the eyes as he ignites his quirk, green lightning dancing around as a storm begins to brew.

He holds up his hands, palms open-faced as his skin crackles, the sweet smell of saccharine turning to ash in the air. Colors of orange and yellow cast frightening shadows along the length of the street, a familiar power exploding on the cusp of Deku’s fingers.

“And now you die.”

a/n: i don’t think that went how anyone thought it would! it’s a lot different from anything i’ve ever done, and i’m not fully happy with it. but thank you for reading, if you got this far!!

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #morgan writes bnha #my writing #bnharem #server collab #bnharem server collab

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henoda4 · 3 years

Text

--Just a little ficlet I had rolling around in my brain after the latest manga chapter. Can be read as platonic or romantic bkdk. Hopefully not too OOC, and probably some grammatical errors. Enjoy!--

* Manga spoilers- for those not caught up to chapter 317, ye' be warned!*

Finding that which is Lost:

It's been days, multiple infuriating days of searching, flying over rooftops and zigzagging through desolate alley ways and getting mostly useless information from the occasional civilian. Bakugou was pissed, hell he'd been pissed since he'd woken up in a hospital only to find out Deku was still unconscious, and then later to a goddamn letter and a nerd who'd gone off to fuck-knows-where. Uraraka had tried to tell him that he was probably just scared more so than angry, that they all were. Naturally he told her to shove it. But more than anything he'd been pissed from the moment that All Might walked right back into the UA dorms, fucking months later, looking absolutely miserable and terrified. The former Pro Hero had barely gotten the explanation out of what he and Deku had been up to before he'd straight up slugged the man. Deku left All Might behind? Deku's pushing everyone away? What the fuck does that even mean? Godammit, didn't he warn the damn nerd not to do this shit?! All Might at least had the decency to look apologetic, as if he knew he deserved the hit.

As he moves the buildings start to blur a bit and he recalls a memory from the recesses of his mind. He and Deku had been very little, he doesn't recall how old exactly, he just knew it was at some point before he had driven a wedge between their friendship, and it was the first time both of their families had gone on a camping trip. The two children had wandered away from the campsite for a bit to explore. He recalls several minutes passing and him and Deku getting separated, and even though /he/ wasn't scared of anything in the woods, he wanted to keep Deku close, you know, just in case, poor nerd would probably bawl his eyes out without him. Sure enough after a few minutes of searching he heard loud sobs and found the green haired boy crouched underneath a tree, his knees all scratched up from taking a tumble. Deku's green eyes lit up in relief upon seeing him and his little heart swelled at the reaction.

"Kacchan!"

"Stupid Izuku! I told you to stay with me!"

"I know, I'm sorry Kacchan, I guess I got lost."

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah-"

"Well, come on then!"

He grabbed Deku's hand and yanked him upright, then practically pulled him along behind him.

He put on his best All Might voice impression, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back Izuku!"

If he'd turned behind him, he'd have seen the beaming smile aimed his way.

But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan."

Back in the present moment, Bakugou was snapped out of his memory by a blur of green, and he abruptly came to a halt on a rooftop. Looking over the edge, he saw down to the street below where there was another flash of green and just as suddenly a figure stepped out, their silhouette half covered in shadows. His eyes widened, he was far away, so he couldn't be sure. But that lightning, the black-green tendrils that trailed the figure, it had to be...it couldn't be. He leapt ahead to the next building over making sure never to lose sight of the ground below, and then jumped down the side to stay out of the figure's line of vision. He silently thanked Hatsume for the upgrades to his gauntlets that rendered them way quieter than usual. As he peaked around the corner he saw the figure walk close to the sides of the building heading his direction. Suddenly their head came under a direct beam of light from a street lamp, and he felt his whole body freeze from the inside out.

The person in front of him, was unmistakably Deku. The teal jumpsuit, worn and disgustingly dirty and covered in various degrees of drying blood, his leg bracers ripped to shreds, those ridiculous bunny ears frayed, and those red shoes that he would recognize anywhere. It was Deku, but not Deku as he had named him, a useless person, incapable of doing anything, and not Deku as the boy himself had taken the meaning, a person capable of anything, full of unlimited promise. No this was Deku as in a doll, a mere foreboding vessel of power and purpose. There was nothing in those green eyes, glowing but soulless. It was Deku, but it was no longer the Deku he knew, and it definitely wasn't Midoriya Izuku.

"I know you're there. Although if you're not here to attack me, then what is your purpose?"

Bakugou flinched at the voice, momentarily having forgotten about "Danger sense", All Might had tried to explain before, but he'd been a little too preoccupied planning how to get around the security at UA to go after Deku to pay close attention to the details.

He figured to hell with it and stepped out into Deku's line of view.

"What the hell do you think I'm here for Deku?"

Now Deku froze, his head raising slightly. His voice came out quiet and hesitant, completely unfitting the ominous aura his appearance gave off.

"Kacchan? Is that really you?"

"Who the fuck else would it be?"

To his surprise Deku started approaching him again, the tendrils of black whip receding and the lightning dimming to nothing. When he was close enough he yanked his hood down, and Bakugou got an up close look at the grime and blood caked on his face, the sunken eyes and black bags of sleep deprivation.

"What the fuck happened to you Deku?"

The green haired boy seemed nearly ready to collapse, as if he was standing upright on sheer willpower and adrenaline alone. Bakugou fought the urge to grab him and throttle him, as fragile as he seemed at the moment, like a breathe would knock him over. Instead it was Deku who grabbed him by the arm as if he couldn't believe his eyes alone, and needed the physical confirmation of his presence.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was worried... after you, you know."

Bakugou felt his anger boil back to the surface.

"Worried about me?! What the fuck?! Worry about yourself for fucking once! Do you have any idea how upset everyone was when you took off after nearly dying, and then left only a fucking letter! How worried sick your mom is?! How scared your fucking shitty friends are?!"

He didn't realize he was shaking until he felt Deku's hand slide down his arm slightly.

"I'm sorry Kacchan, I know I should've talked to you in person. But I had to go, and if I had waited, you would have tried to stop me."

"DAMN RIGHT I WOULD HAVE!"

Silence.

"I told you not to do this shit on your own Deku, I told you not to play the hero on your own. Do you not think I'm strong enough to help you?! Are you actually fucking looking down on me this time?!"

"No, of course not! I told you I've never looked down on you. I just....I can't see you get hurt for me again. I can't risk anyone getting hurt again because of me, because I couldn't do anything to protect them....I can't let that happen! I have to do this on my own. OFA was given to me so I could-"

"You're such a fucking idiot. You think you can take down every fucking villain on your own? Take down AFO on your own?"

The little shit had the nerve to smile awkwardly at him, "I've managed fine so far."

Bakugou yanked his arm out of Deku's grasp, and gestured at his whole body.

"This! This is not fine! You're barely standing, you're covered in blood and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. When's the last time you fucking ate? You can't keep this up Deku, even in his prime All Might didn't handle shit like this. And I know I said some real shitty stuff in the past about you being quirkless, but you are more than just OFA's vessel. You were the one to fucking get that through my head.. that we are more than just our quirks. So what the hell?"

"I-"

"Just let me help you Deku."

"But Kacc-"

"Dammit! It took me years to understand that you genuinely wanted to help me not because you thought I was weak, but just because you're a natural born hero and you care about me or some shit. Just..just let me return the favor for once. You don't have to do this alone."

He turned his head away uncomfortably, suddenly acutely aware of how inept he was at expressing himself in these delicate situations. How was he supposed to get through to Deku? Would this be enough? The nerd always seemed to be able to read him like a book, he hoped that proved to be the case now.

"Ka-"

He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. He was running out of options, aside from pummeling the nerd into submission. But for once he wanted to chose a different option.

"Please Izuku." He lifted his gaze to meet his child hood friend's. A silent plea hanging in the air.

In the span of seconds that felt like an eternity they kept eye contact and Deku seemed like he was trying to find something in that contact, like a promise, or a confirmation, whatever it was, he finally sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground.

It was barely a whisper.

"Okay."

Bakugou let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Can you walk nerd?" He extended his hand out to the green haired teen who took it right away. He tightened his grip immediately.

"Yeah, but I'm a little sleepy-"

Before Deku could finish, and without a word Bakugou yanked the other teen towards himself and lifted him up. The teen seemed surprisingly small and light in his arms, a far cry from the monstrous visage he painted when they first crossed paths several minutes ago.

As he walked down the blocks and could feel the tension leave Deku's body as his form went slack, he gazed down to see the nerd's eyes slowly closing, he must be exhausted. He kept walking down the vacant streets, on alert for any potential threats, the nerd's weight a comforting presence in his arms. He assumed the other teen was already unconscious .

He briefly gazed up and saw the stars through the gaps between the building silhouettes, he thought back again to that time in the forest as kids.

He whispered in the dark, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back."

If he had looked down a second time he would have seen the subtle but content smile aimed at him. But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan." before the teen fell asleep in his arms.

#bkdk #platonic bkdk #bkdk fic #bnha bkdk #bnha #mha bkdk #bnha angst #bnha spoilers #bnha 317

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jishouhaku · 3 years

Text

I did a situational writing meme! Funny scenes and sad ones alike ahead.

My first ever time writing these characters, so hopefully they’re not too OOC.

Character 1 - Kou Character 2 - Nene Character 3 - Tsuchigomori Character 4 - Sakura Character 5 - Yako or Natsuhiko Character 6 - Hanako

1. If Character 1 and Character 2 were to fight, who would win?

“Um.”

A bead of sweat ran down Nene’s forehead. She promptly shut her eyes and looked away as if bracing herself for the impact of a punch while pointing over at the orange-haired boy. “I think he would!”

Kou gasped in shock at the implication. “I would never fight Nene! What are you saying?”

Hanako watches from a corner half amused, half staring at Kou with yandere eyes.

Feeling eyes boring into his soul, Kou whips around on his heel and frowns at the ghost boy. “I would never!”

Hanako’s eerie smile grew. “You’d better not~.”

“I--” Kou shivered.

2. Character 3 and Character 4 decide to leave the country together – where do they go?

“I don’t think we can do that,” Tsuchigomori says frankly, blowing out a puff of smoke from his cigarette. His dark-colored eyes slid to the girl beside him who looked just as unamused by the scenario as he did. “...I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

“Likewise.”

Although she knew who he was.

3. Character 5 and Character 6 enter a drinking game – who wins?

“I don’t need to drink,” Hanako says.

“...Didn’t you threaten to make soup out of me?!” Yako growls. If he didn’t need to drink, then he didn’t need to eat, either, which means… He’s been bluffing all this god damn t--

“Correction: I don’t need to do any of those things, but that doesn’t mean I can’t,” he answered as though reading her mind, readying his knife with a hungry look in his eyes.

Uh-oh.

In fox form, the apparition ran away...

4. Character 1 and Character 5 are lost – whose fault is it?

“You said you knew the way!” Kou said sourly as he glared at the wall in the front of him. This was the third time they came to the same dead end.

“Oh, yeah. I did,” Natsuhiko said, touching his chin in a thoughtful manner. “Well, looks like I don’t.”

“No, really?!” Kou groaned in exasperation.

5. Character 6 and Character 2 are locked in a room together, what will inevitably happen between them?

It happened in an instant. One second, she and Hanako are having a serious moment, then the next Aoi and Akane walk into the classroom and then it’s totally dark.

Two eyes watch her in it.

“Well, looks like we’re trapped!” Hanako exclaims.

And in another instant, Nene’s fist is pounding on the door, her deep red blush hidden by said darkness.

“LET ME OUUUUTT!!!”

6. Between character 1 and Character 3, who has the worse temper?

Kou and Tsuchigomori? They’re both pretty chill from what I can see. I think Tsuchi is sulkier, though.

7. In a life and death situation, would Character 5 ever betray Character 2?

“Well…”

“You tricked me when I first met you!”

“But it wasn’t life or death then, right?”

“Your friends tried to kill me!!”

“Correction--they tried to kill us both.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d never spoken to me!!!” Nene roars.

Natsuhiko puts his hands up, smiling sheepishly. “Okay, point taken…”

8. Who, between Character 4 and Character 6 would be more likely to be arrested for indecent exposure?

“Indecent-- what.” She sends the interviewer a weird look. She knows what it is, of course, but... why ask it…

Floating mid-air, Hanako blinks. “Uuum, I’m gonna say neither of us.”

9. Character 2 is believed to be dead, how does Character 6 react?

He stood still as a leaf, completely in shock.

I…

He didn’t know what to think. He knows it’s just what others think, which doesn’t necessarily make it true, but it’s possible. If it is true that Nene is gone, he’ll never… They’ll never...

Hanako’s head dips down, his hat casting a shadow over his face.

Nene…

…

No, he couldn’t be hasty and jump to conclusions. What if she was still around, calling for him? If she needed his help, then he would go to her. He’d get her out of whatever hole she’d dug herself into it--he always would. And then they’d be together again, happy and… Happy and together.

He wouldn’t lose hope.

10. Character 3 goes crazy and tries to kill Character 1, how do they go about it? And do they succeed?

A hand born of fabric squeezed hard at his neck, quickly depriving him of oxygen. Kou gasped for it, struggling under the oppressive weight, unable to do much. His vision was getting hazy, and before long, he was blinking in out of consciousness, his grip around his weapon loosening.

This isn’t how he imagined going down: not so soon, so helpless.. In the end, he couldn’t prove himself. He couldn’t do anything. He was weak and this was the price he was paying for it.

Nii-san, he thinks, feeling tears well up in his eyes. They blot his vision, making the monster staring wildly at him look even more like one.

I’m sorry...

11. Character 5 is suddenly landed with a baby and appeals to Character 4 for help, how does Character 4 react?

“She has your eyes!” Natsuhiko cheers, holding the small infant on his lap.

“Where did you get that?”

“It’s our child!” he says, missing (or perhaps ignoring) the murderous intent in Sakura’s gaze.

“What am I going to do with you…”

12. Character 1 goes to a haunted house and demands Character 6 comes with them. What happens?

Kou was telling Hanako all about the Halloween in modern day Japan. Until recently (*), it wasn’t all too common to celebrate Halloween in Japan or see trick-or-treaters. But there were plenty of things a-foot now, like Halloween parties or haunted houses.

Kou himself was never really a fan of the latter, but he thought he might seem tough if he got through one in one piece. It was really to show off in front of Nene, but he was curious how Hanako would do in one too.

“Oh...I see…” said boy had said, listening but sounding bummed out.

Kou tilted his head in confusion. “What’s up? You don’t wanna go?”

“Well...the thing is…” with a bit of ghostly magic, Hanako’s form turned slightly opaque. “...I kind of can’t.”

…

“Oh… Right.”

“Did you forget?”

“Do you have to rub it in?”

“Well, you’re the one telling me of all sorts of cool stuff happening in the living world… which I can’t access outside of here, so, uh, yeah.”

#Hanako #Jibaku Shounen Hanako kun #TBHK #Kou Minamoto #Nene Yashiro #Tsuchigomori #Sakura Nanamine #Yugi Amane #JSHK #Kou #Nene #Sakura #writing meme #* don't quote me on this but I know Halloween used to be not so widespread in Japan. I know it got more pop there though.#Natsuhiko #Yako

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bnha-mha-imagines · 5 years

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Uhm, can i have a little story where the reader is an exchange student from america and misses home, so she's up late one night cooking some american food bc she misses home and like cries while eating it but todo or kiri find them and help them feel better? I'm sorry if i worded this weird, I'm still a little new to requesting things. thank you! ˶⚈Ɛ⚈˵

Haha, don’t worry, it wasn’t weird! I picked Todoroki, hopefully this fits what you wanted! :)

Todoroki x Reader

Word Count: 2283

Warnings: Verrry light angst, author being stupid with how Japanese schools work, fluff at the end, potentially ooc Todoroki? Ugh im inexperienced with him

Summary: (Y/n) is a foreign U.S. student at UA. One night she feels very homesick while making nostalgic American food, and Todoroki finds her crying…

UA was elite, and served not only as a distinguished school in Japan, but also on a global scale. When you sent in your application, you had little hope of moving on to the written and practical exam portion, especially with you being from America. So imagine your surprise when you actually received a letter in the mail informing you that you had been invited to Japan, expenses paid on top of that!

Within a week, you and your parents rushed to pack your things into three suitcases and sent you over to Japan on a flight across the Pacific ocean. The whole experience filled you with a mixture of emotions. Of course you were ecstatic to have a chance at attending UA! Surely this was the best school to get you ahead on your hero career. But you couldn't deny the fear that this news struck within you.

It was your first time flying alone, and to a foreign country at that. You were leaving your entire life behind in America without much time to say goodbye to your friends and family. While you could speak Japanese, you were far from fluent by native standards. And, on top of all that, you still had to check into your hotel and take the exams before you were actually admitted into UA. What if you had come all this way just to be sent back?

By the time you arrive in Japan and retrieve your bags from the baggage claim, it was already 1 in the morning. Exhausted, you waited at the pick up line, looking for the person from UA who should be waiting for you. Eyes tired and heavy, you saw a tall man with spiky blond hair holding a sign with your name on it. He was quite the character, and feeling intimidated, you hesitantly introduce yourself with your amateur Japanese.

The man, who introduced himself as one of the teachers at UA and pro-hero Present Mic, was actually very friendly! Despite how weary you felt, you forced a smile, hoping everyone here was as nice as he was. Once you were settled into your hotel, Mic informed you to rest well, for the exams were early the next morning! Leaving you to your room, you leapt into the bed the moment he closed the door.

Without even bothering to change out of your clothes, you fell asleep within seconds, but not before setting an alarm for 7am. As you slept, you weren’t aware that within the next 24 hours you would not only be admitted into the UA hero program, but in the top 1-A hero class.

After two weeks into school, you learned a number of things. First, that being from America instantly made you a class celebrity. Every student in class already knew you the moment you first entered the room, and you were unprepared for how many questions you were bombarded with. Though overwhelming, you had to admit that it was a good ice-breaker for making friends!

Second, not every teacher was as kind as Present Mic. Mr. Aizawa was border-line sadistic, and on top of that you got off to a rocky start. Who would have known your newfound fame would also have Aizawa target you for being a distraction. Unfortunately for you, you had to work two times as hard to prove to him you were serious about your education.

Third, life in Japan was significantly different from America. It was a huge culture shock, and you struggled with the social differences between both countries. Despite your frequent mistakes, your classmates were very forgiving, and gave you helpful tips on how to act appropriately in Japan. Though, you found yourself in quite a few embarrassing situations…

Despite the difficulties, you wore a large smile as time went on. You could feel yourself growing stronger and adapting to life here. You became fast friends with your classmates, especially with Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. Uraraka even took you under her wing and helped improve your Japanese! Eventually people began to no longer associate you with America. Instead of ‘the American’, they viewed you as they did any other hardworking classmate.

Even Todoroki, who initially deemed you a distraction, had opened up to you. Much to your surprise, he was actually rather fun to be around despite his cool and intimidating exterior. After Midoriya had introduced you both, you found it much easier to talk to him. Soon your mutual admiration had morphed into a friendship, and you really appreciated his company. While he never showed much interest in where you came from, you appreciated it. It made you feel less like an oddity, like you belonged here.

By the time the first semester finals arrived, life in Japan had become routine and normal. Of course you missed some things about home in America, but you were always having so much fun and were so busy that you rarely had time to feel down about it! At least...that’s what you thought.

At night, when you were alone with your own thoughts, you couldn’t ignore the waves of home-sickness that overwhelmed you. Sure you had made friends; you would even say Todoroki and Uraraka had become your best friends. But, you still felt hollow when you remembered all of the people you had left behind. The food, the weather, the brands… everything was different from what you were used to, and you find yourself missing things as little as a can of coke or some good ol’ Kraft mac n’ cheese.

During one of your bi-weekly phone calls, you relayed to your mom that you were beginning to miss home. As much as you loved everyone here, it was hard to talk to them about home when they could never really understand where you were coming from. Your mother, however, understood completely. The moment you told her you were homesick, she sent you a small care package in the mail of all of your favorite things! It was packed to the brim with American foods and snacks, and your mouth watered just looking at them all!

You pushed the box under your bed, afraid that your friends may try to steal some of them when you clearly needed it more than them. Your supplies were limited after all. It didn’t hurt what they didn’t know!

Now, during the nights when you feel homesick and lonely, you would pop out one of your American snacks. You would close your eyes and imagine you were back home in the states, and for a little bit you would feel better...before you had to open your eyes again and clean up the empty trash.

It was on one of these nights that you decided to make some Kraft mac n’ cheese. You had been saving the box for a particularly hard night, and this one...this one took the cake. Aizawa had put you all through one of the most excruciating training sessions of the month, and on top of that you hadn’t done so hot on one of your quizzes. By now it was too late to call your mom for comfort, and you felt very, very alone.

You were tired, but you couldn’t sleep. So, grabbing the box of Kraft, you quietly snuck out from your dorm to the common room so you could make your food. The common room usually buzzed with activity, but now with most people retired to their rooms, it was quiet. You leaned on the counter, watching the pot for the water to boil.

Time seemed to slow as you absent-mindedly drained the noodles. The moment you ripped open the cheese pouch and got a whiff of that smell, you felt your lip tremble a little. You felt awful.

Making yourself a bowl, you sat down at the table and stared into the food you had made. Your mouth watered as you lifted a spoonful to your mouth, closing your eyes as you ate. Like those many nights before, you tried to imagine you were sitting at your kitchen table back home in America...but you couldn’t escape.

When you opened your eyes your vision was blurred with tears. Sniffling, you forced another spoonful into your mouth desperately hoping it could fill the void in your stomach. It didn’t. Setting the spoon back into the bowl, you rubbed your eyes with your sleeve, little sobs retching out of you. All this time you had refused to cry. All this time you had refused to show anyone how lonely you were. Finally, months of repressed emotion came pouring out.

Overwhelmed, you almost didn’t hear the voice from behind you. “(Y/n)?” You couldn’t respond, trying to quiet your sobs as the person approached you. Looking up, you saw Todoroki take a seat in front of you, concern written all over his usually emotionless face. Your tear-stained face felt hot with embarrassment. You had hoped everyone was asleep by now, but here you were, caught, sobbing over your food. You tried to hide your face, feeling pathetic.

“(Y/n),” Todoroki said more firmly, placing his hands on your forearms to reveal your face. Forced to look him in the eye, you felt your body shake and you laughed pitifully.

“I’m pathetic aren’t I?” you asked him, your voice congested with tears. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you cried. Todoroki didn’t speak for a moment, his eyes piercing.

With his hands still holding you gently, he asked you in a very serious tone. “Did someone hurt you?” You were already shaking your head, sniffling. He left out a relieved sigh, his eyes softening immensely as he looked at you. “Why are you so distraught?”

Again, you felt yourself laugh sadly. “It’s stupid, it’s…” Todorki shook his head at this, causing your lip to tremble as more tears spilled from your eyes. “I-I just really miss everything. My home, my family,” you looked as your bowl of still steaming mac and cheese, “the food…everything.” Surprising you, Todoroki lifted a hand to gently brush away a stray tear. Never since you met him had he been so tender with you.

“You’re homesick,” he mumbled more to himself than you. Hearing it aloud was enough to send tremors through you, another wave of emotion overtaking you. Letting you cry it out, you felt his hand take and squeeze your own. The pressure was reassuring. As you finished, you heard him speak softly to you. “Tell me about it.”

You blinked, a surprised look crossing your teary eyes. “About America?” Ever since you met, Todoroki had never expressed interest in the United States. That was one of the reasons you liked hanging out with him at first. Seeing him ask about it now was unexpected to say the least.

Todoroki shook his head. “Not about America, about your home.” You blinked. His request was so much different than everyone else’s. People were usually only interested in the school system, or the politics, or the culture. His eyes were so serious, you couldn’t help but feel a little flattered that he actually wanted to hear about your past.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes. “Well,” you began, “I had this one friend…” you began to tell him about your past-life, from your friendships, to your family, to your favorite places to go in your home-town. It was the first time you had spoken about it to anyone at UA, and seeing how intently Todoroki listened to you made you feel as if every word you said was important. The whole while you spoke his hands encased yours, letting you know in a tangible language that he was there. You talked until your voice ran dry and your food was cold.

You finished talking, and your eyes felt heavy. You were exhausted from crying, and by now it was very late. Todoroki was already helping you to your feet when you yawned. “I’ll clean this up for you,” he said, looking into your face. “You should get to bed. Can you walk?”

You felt your heart flutter at his concern for you. “Yes,” you said, voice tired. Todoroki looked at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, unconvinced. Silently, he reached out and lifted you into his arms effortlessly. Feeling heat rise to your face, you went silent, wrapping your arms around him to better balance yourself.

As if you were as light as a feather, he carried you back to your dorm, using one hand to carefully open your door without dropping you. Once he made it to the side of your bed, he gently sat you down. “I’m going to go clean up,” he spoke, his eyes running over your form. “Will you be alright on your own?” You nodded, still flustered from your ride.

Todoroki seemed assured, turning to leave. In a moment of panic, you reached out and grabbed his wrist. “W-Wait,” you began, eyes wide as he pauses to look back at you. “Thank you...for staying up with me and for listening.” You looked down, shy. Feeling a slight pressure on your forehead, you glance back up to see Todoroki pulling away.

“You’re welcome, (Y/n),” he said softly, a fond look in his eyes. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. For now you should get some rest. Sweet dreams.” Quietly, he left the room and shut the door, leaving you wondering if he had even been there at all.

Rolling over in your bed, you felt a fuzzy feeling in your chest as you remembered how he kissed your forehead just a minute ago. Suddenly, you didn’t feel quite so alone.

#todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #mha imagines #request #bnha headcanons #bnha matchup #shoto todoroki

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