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#i HATE that i've thought this much about it someone PLEASE put me out of my misery
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Girl Next Door
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader
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Word count: 1.8k
Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...
A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig it the concept. Let me know what you think.
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Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 
While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 
"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 
"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 
𝜗𝜚
The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.
"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.
"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 
"I don't like sweets," he states.
"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"
"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 
𝜗𝜚
A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 
"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 
"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 
"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 
"Can you hold this for a second?" 
"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 
You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."
"It's fine"
"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"
The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 
"Ladies first" 
He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 
As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 
"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.
𝜗𝜚
Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 
You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.
Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.
You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 
For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...
Then he drops his lighter. 
Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 
You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"
"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 
"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 
He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 
"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.
"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 
"You sure?"
"No," you release a tired sigh. 
He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."
A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 
You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 
"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."
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Note
Yes, yes, we love a bit of hero whump, though may I suggest if it is not too much.... some villain whump? 👀
-💜
Most of the time, the villain could deal with injuries perfectly. In fact, they'd been in med school for several years and had perfected stitching up nearly every inch of their own body. Usually, they wouldn't accept help under any circumstances.
Partly because it felt wrong to bother someone else with their troubles, partly because they were terrified of other people's (non-existing) skills. They couldn't risk it.
But they assumed being placed under house arrest with the hero watching them wasn't exactly usual.
It happened in the middle of a card game between the two of them. A week ago, they would have never agreed to such silly things but after a few days, they had realised there wasn't much to do. No internet connection. No smartphone, no TV. Just this house and a hyperactive hero that couldn't sit still.
Once a week they got to call their parents.
In the exact moment as they put another card onto the stack, the villain felt the stitches open one by one. At first, they simply denied it, made themselves think that it wasn't that bad. They were simply mistaken; it was surely just the usual pain and they were exaggerating.
But the pain increased and they could feel the wetness of the blood trickle down their back. A week ago, before the hero had captured them, they'd been in a pretty rough shape. A swollen face, several nasty bruises and this one stab wound that kept reopening. And stitching their own back? That was more than a little challenge. They hated it, they loathed it.
"I think I have to use the washroom," they said.
"Oh, really? Now that you're losing, huh?" The hero raised an eyebrow. They took these games a little too serious. "Do you seriously expect me to go easy on you because I am the hero? I've been playing this game for years. I have mastered it and I will destroy you, no matter what it takes. No matter what you try, I will-"
"Okay, you win, oh almighty hero." They threw their cards onto the table. It was getting worse. They didn't even know if they could stand up without tripping. Their vision blurred. Everything seemed to turn upside down.
"'Hey, that's not how this works," the hero said. "You can't just give up like that. I was supposed to defeat you."
"M-hm." The villain stood up and for a second, they really thought they would pass out. They took in a deep breath.
"Wait, are you okay?"
"Hm?" The villain didn't find the hero's eyes right away and they could feel their own body sway. God, they needed painkillers, rubbing alcohol, thread, needle... "Yeah, be right back."
They walked past the hero, always in search for something to hold onto but they didn't come very far.
"Oh my god." The hero sounded a little too concerned. The villain thought themselves to be quite a good actor and they weren't even swaying that much. "What the...?"
The hero was next to them in seconds, their hand on the villain's arm. They held onto them.
"What did you do...?"
"What? Nothing, I...oh fuck..." Involuntarily, they grabbed the hero a little too harshly when they felt the wound pulsating.
"Your entire shirt is drenched in blood!" The hero's gaze had hardened and a more concentrated look had replaced their playful smile.
"I got it, it's alright," the villain mumbled. They let go of the hero to drag themselves to the bathroom but the hero had other plans.
"Lay down on the couch," they said.
"You're not my boss," the villain argued. Sometimes, they hated themselves for their stubborness but being nursed by the hero sounded like a greater punishment than even house arrest. Being vulnerable around them, letting someone else take care of them...it sounded like actual hell.
"Please," the hero said. They took the villain's hand and the villain was so confused by this gentle approach that they almost forgot about the pain. They were sure no one else would ever beg to take care of them. When they remembered how violent their capture had been and how many heroes had punched them, they got goosebumps.
They would never tell anyone but they were having nightmares about their fights. Anxiety was eating them up. So, they were almost glad that the hero was observing them at their home.
"It's fine, really," the villain mumbled. "I got it."
"You are bleeding out. You're not fine. Sit down." More or less of their own volition, the villain eventually sat down on the couch. "I'll take your shirt off now, alright?"
The villain's hand was still in theirs.
"Okay," the villain agreed. Their breath hitched and they prepared themselves for the inevitable pain that would follow. However, the hero wasn't rough with them.
"Isn't that from last week?" the hero asked while they pulled the bloody shirt over the villain's head.
"Yeah."
"They gave me an entire protocol about your injuries. There wasn't anything about a stab wound. Just your ankle and your face."
The villain smiled tiredly. "Sounds about right."
It wasn't a big secret that the agency preferred to be silent on how exactly they caught their villains.
Against the villain's burning back, the hero's cold fingers felt heavenly. They put their palm against the villain's skin and pushed them a little forward to see the injury better.
"Did you stitch that yourself?"
"I tried, yeah."
"It looks pretty good," the hero said. "Just give me a second, I will grab everything."
The hero stood up and left for the bathroom.
And the villain sat there, perplexed. When had they ever allowed someone else to even touch them? When had they ever undressed in front of someone else?
What was happening? Were they really this desperate loser who needed comfort that bad?
The villain stared at their hands, their trembling hands. There was no way they could stitch any wound like this, not even if it was on their thigh.
It was more than frustrating, more than a little annoying.
"Is there anything else I should know about? Allergies maybe?" the hero asked. The villain turned around and was surprised to see the hero with all the things they would have grabbed too. There were even painkillers and a glass of water in their hand. The villain shook their head. "Alright. Take this."
All of it was a little...too good to be true. What the hero asked seemed reasonable and their actions were too. The villain swallowed the painkillers and watched as the hero sat on the couch. They pressed a clean towel against the villain's wound and despite their carefulness, the villain hissed.
"Your pain from one to ten? How bad is it?"
"I..." the villain realised they had never thought about it. Usually when they tended to their own wounds they were like a machine, following instructions they had burnt into their system a long time ago. It didn't matter if it burnt or hurt, as long as the wound was closed. But the hero was actually communicating, they were careful and gentle. "...maybe a three?"
"Are you sure?"
"Okay, it's a five." The hero seemed to be another person completely, their jokes and their cheery manner were long gone, yet they were friendly and soft. Apparently, this was the professional side of the hero.
"Do you think it was a clean knife? Your wound doesn't seem to be infected."
"It should have been. Heroes clean their knives regularly, don't they?" For a moment, the hero was quiet and the villain wasn't sure if they had said the wrong thing. They cleared their throat. "Uhm, I can also stitch the wound, if you..."
"No, it's okay. It looks pretty clean, so I'm not going to put any alcohol on it. Don't want to damage your tissue." Woah. The villain had never really cared about that. They'd just drench their wounds in alcohol to kill any infection causing thing, even if that damaged their tissue. "One more thing before I start stitching."
"Yeah?"
"Just out of curiosity. Do you know whom of my colleagues did this to you?"
The villain's stomach tingled. The hero was probably not asking out of pure curiosity.
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farrenlux · 1 year
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i've been haunted by images and now i inflict them upon ye
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itoshiexx · 2 months
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running your fingers through their hair
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you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!
↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love
notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥
event masterlist
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Itoshi Rin
“you remind me of a dog, you know?”
rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 
“excuse me?”
his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 
“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 
“that’s absolutely not true.”
“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”
“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”
you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”
rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?
you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”
his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”
“no, you don’t.”
“i hate you. i’m serious.”
you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”
his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”
smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.
“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”
his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 
“shut up.”
“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”
comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.
“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”
a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.
“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.
perhaps you were down bad, too.
Michael Kaiser
contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 
despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.
or maybe it was just you. who knows.
whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 
however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 
especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 
“liebling? you okay?”
it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.
but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.
you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.
“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”
his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.
eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.
“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.
“yeah. thank you, mikka.”
the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”
you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 
you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”
his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 
michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.
“yeah.”
Mikage Reo
reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.
“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”
“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”
your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 
“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”
your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”
you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 
“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”
before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 
your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.
“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 
“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”
though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 
“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”
“hey!”
“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”
the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.
“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 
“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”
your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 
you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:
“it’s always been you, too.”
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© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
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azure-cherie · 5 months
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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.
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Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!
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Pile 1 :
Mon Amour ,
The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.
- yours completely
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Pile 2 :
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Dear love ,
In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .
- your lover
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Pile 3 :
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Hey Miss,
Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .
- always yours
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Pile 4 :
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Hey sweetheart,
I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.
- only yours forever
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Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️
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jaynahh · 3 months
Text
# you confessed to kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer
(seperated)
# scaramouche
# kabukimono
"love?"
his doe eyes were blown wide at your confession, though it didn't take long for a smile to take over his expression.
"aw, you're so sweet. i wouldn't choose anyone else to be my companion!"
oblivious.
before you could explain yourself, he took your hand in his and lead you near a tree. he suddenly bent down and picked a flower. once he stood up, he held the flower with both hands, offering it to you.
"ah, i love you too..."
his mouth hung open, thinking of other words to say, but nothing came out. he clearly had no experience. after a moment, he spoke.
"i've heard that when two people love each other, they give each other flowers. oh, speaking of flowers, i've recently tried this one tea flavor made with this one flower–i should make it for you sometime."
um, he's quite innocent.
in conclusion, kabukimono does in fact love you too. he just doesn't have a full grasp of what love means yet.
(ooc, he is soft for u)
you did it. you finally admitted your feelings for him. not gonna lie, it was scary. in fact, you were borderline hyperventilating as you awaited his response, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
you two were next to each other. so close, yet so far. you couldn't see his expression from the way you stared at the ground in anticipation. the silence was eating you up inside, and you couldn't handle much longer.
"look at me."
his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, taking a moment to register his request.
"...just for a moment," he spoke.
though his voice was quieter than usual, it didn't help with your racing heartbeat and uneven breathing. you fidgeted with your hands, weighing your options, hesitating before lifting your gaze from the ground to his face. your body tenses subconsciously, preparing for his wrath and uncaring behavior.
his eyes widen upon seeing your expression. you were crying. why are you crying? he wants to ask, yet he stops himself. he notices you tense up. were you scared of him? he instead takes a different approach.
"keep looking, please."
he knew how you would always avoid eye contact. he hated it. it always irritated him how he'd never get to see your face, how you'd always hide when he wanted to see your expression the most.
"i'm not mad. i... i won't yell at you."
without much thought, his hand went up to your face–his heart broke at the sight of you flinching, regret filled his mind thinking of the times he'd been harsh towards you–his thumb brushing your tears away.
"i might," he stammered, "i might feel the same."
in conclusion, scaramouche never knew about his feelings towards you until he saw the tears on your face. he needs time to process his newfound feelings.
# wanderer
he wants to make sure that you know what you'd be getting yourself into. him, out of all people? are you out of your mind?
he pursed his lips, analyzing your expression and body language. inside, he really doesn't know how to respond. he doesn't really believe it.
"are you sure?" he asked.
"why wouldn't i be?" you respond.
his mind was racing with so many questions. "but, you know how i'm like." it's true, you two have hung out on multiple occasions. he had never put up a front with you–or with anyone, for that matter. you know his true self well. so, why?
deep, deep down, he may be a tad bit insecure. just a little. okay, he feels like he doesn't deserve love–he doesn't deserve you.
"do you really want to live with my annoying remarks for the rest of your life?" he crosses his arms and tilted his head, making him seem judgemental in a negative way–but he's worried. just a little worried about you.
he's not sure if he's able to trust someone to that extent, but with you... of course he loves you. he's just scared.
scared for one, that you'd get sick of him and hate his attitude, and two, you'd get taken away from him too.
he's warning you, but he's secretly hoping you'd ignore all his warnings. he needs a hug.
in conclusion, he always had an interest in you, though he hid it quite well. he never acted on those feelings in fear that you'd leave him.
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theostrophywife · 10 months
Note
Hey! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader fic where reader doesn’t know a lot about males and so az (maybe he already has a thing for reader) offers to give her lessons? The more NSFW the better 😉
innocence.
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author's note: sorry for being m.i.a. please accept this as my apology gift. largely inspired by this song. you can't tell me that az doesn't have the biggest corrpution kink 😏
it started out innocently enough.
one winter evening after a particularly rowdy wine night, you and azriel laid in a heap at the house of wind, giggling at nothing as the warmth of the alcohol lowered your inhibitions and loosened your lips.
"never?" azriel asked incredulously, his brows creasing in the most adorable way. "you've truly never kissed anyone?"
you pouted, crossing your arms. thanks to cassian and his big mouth, the shadowsinger now knew the true extent of your naivete. growing up in the high priestess's temple in the dawn court, you had devoted much of your life to duty and training, which left little to no room for encounters with the opposite sex.
it never bothered you before. until you moved to the night court and met the shadowsinger. azriel was beyond gorgeous and smart and funny and probably well-versed in the art of seduction, which is more than you could say for your inexperienced self.
"don't tease, az." you groaned, covering your face behind your hands. as if that would hide the flush spreading through your cheeks. "i'm already mortified enough as it is."
"hey," azriel said softly as he gently grabbed your wrists. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, love."
"you're just saying that to be nice."
the shadowsinger shook his head. "i torture people for a living," he deadpanned. "i am not nice."
you chuckled, which brought a smile to azriel's handsome face. "besides, practice makes perfect. i've seen you go from not knowing how to hold a sword to perfecting the eight point attack in a matter of weeks. kissing should be a piece of cake compared to that."
"kissing and fighting aren't the same thing."
azriel smirked. "it is, if you're doing it right. all it takes is a good teacher." the tips of your ears reddened. “and we all know how fast of a learner you are.”
you snorted. "somehow i doubt that nesta would be into the idea of letting me borrow her mate for lessons." a little frown formed on your face. "or maybe she would. you never know with those two."
the idea formed in azriel's mind before he could think better of it. the shadowsinger hated that he thought of it in the first place, but fuck. you were both a little tipsy and a tiny bit reckless and he'd been crushing on you for far too long and maybe tonight was the night he finally did something about it.
"i could teach you."
you stilled. “what?”
azriel shrugged and put on his most nonchalant expression even though his inner monologue was currently pure turmoil. “i could teach you how to kiss.” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to yours. “it might help to practice with someone you’re comfortable with.”
you cocked your head, weighing his words. “you’re…actually serious about this.”
“why wouldn’t i be?”
“well, wouldn’t it make things weird? you’re my best friend. best friends don’t just kiss.”
you had him there. azriel certainly had never offered this unique service to any of his friends before. “i don’t think it’s weird. i think it makes perfect sense. in fact, it’s weird that we’re not kissing right now. best friends kiss all the time,” the shadowsinger deadpanned.
you snorted. “so you and cassian are just having heated little makeout sessions behind me and nesta’s back?”
azriel winked. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”
that earned an earnest little giggle out of you. then you were quiet again, lost in the pros and cons.
pro: you really wanted to kiss azriel.
con: you really wanted to kiss azriel.
what if you were horrible at it? what if you had bad breath? what if you accidentally bit him? what if azriel figured out that you had a pathetic little crush on him and he doesn’t return the feelings and your friendship implodes then you’d have to move back to the dawn court and adopt a bunch of cats just like thesan always teased you about when you were children—
“you’re spiraling.”
you crossed your arms. “am not.”
azriel rolled his eyes fondly. “i can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” his expression softened as he turned over on the couch, his chin perched in one hand. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just…” the bob of an adam’s apple. “i just wanted your first kiss to be with someone who genuinely cares about you.”
that turned your insides into mush. “oh.”
the shadowsinger’s cheeks reddened. “never mind, it sounds silly now that i’ve said it out loud.”
“it’s not,” you said, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “it’s not stupid, az. it’s really sweet, actually.”
your heart hammered inside of your chest as you faced azriel. his hazel eyes glowed golden under the faelights and a warm flush colored his cheeks a rosy tone. from this close, you could make out the constellations of freckles that kissed his nose and cheeks, its traitorous little trail stopping just above his cupid’s bow. you couldn’t help it. your gaze went straight to his lips. they looked soft, sensual, and perfectly kissable. you wondered if he’d taste like sweet wine.
“y/n?” azriel murmured softly.
“hmm?”
“you’re staring.”
your cheeks reddened and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of azriel’s mouth. “you’re the one who brought up kissing,” you countered, raising a brow. “now i can’t stop staring at your stupid lips.”
the shadowsinger’s smirk grew wider. “my stupid lips,” he repeated. “that you want to kiss.”
“no,” you blurted. azriel raised a knowing brow. “yes. maybe.” you shifted awkwardly. “what if i’m terrible at it? what if i accidentally miss? what if i don’t know where to put my hands? oh my gods, what if i accidentally bite you?”
to his credit, there wasn’t an ounce of judgement on azriel’s face. he’d witnessed your outbursts enough times that he wasn’t even fazed by it. the shadowsinger grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles over your knuckles. “one, no one’s first kiss is great. at best, it’s weird and awkward because you’re just trying to figure it out. that’s kind of the point. two, you won’t miss. just follow my lead. three, the neck or waist are generally safe spots to place your hands.” azriel demonstrated by wrapping your arms around his neck. “lastly, i don’t mind if you bite me. in fact, i might enjoy it.” he gave you a cheeky wink that helped dissipate the rest of your anxious worries.
you chuckled softly. leave it to azriel to make you laugh mid freak out. the shadowsinger smiled and cauldron fucking boil you, the sight of it pretty much sealed your fate.
“so,” you murmured, toying with the loose curls at the nape of azriel’s neck. “what now?”
“that’s entirely up to you, love.”
you blinked. once, twice. the smell of cedar and starkissed night. freckles and rosy cheeks. warm, golden eyes that melted your insides like honey. scarred hands that caressed the side of your face with heartbreaking gentleness.
“kiss me, azriel.”
the shadowsinger did not need to be told twice. he tilted your chin, brushing his nose against yours for a brief moment. azriel took a deep breath like he was savoring the moment, like his entire life had been leading up to this. then he kissed you.
his lips were as soft as freshly plucked rose petals and as sweet as the wine that still coated your tongue. they pressed against yours, gentle and exploring as azriel cupped your cheek. you leaned into him and your fingers found purchase in his silky, dark locks as azriel deepened the kiss. his arm snaked across your back as he pulled you into his lap, his mouth never once leaving yours. the sweet innocent pecks did not stay innocent for long.
the shadowsinger groaned as you nestled into him. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t pressed against him, but still you wanted more. your hands moves of their own accord and slipped underneath azriel’s cream sweater. his skin felt like a warm summer day despite the fact that it was currently the dead of winter.
“fuck,” azriel growled into your neck.
you pulled away, startled. it didn’t even occur to you that your fingers were as cold as icicles. “shit. sorry, az i didn’t think—“
you slipped your hands out of his sweater, but azriel caught you by the wrist. “no,” he grunted, his voice dark and low and dangerous. “no, don’t stop.”
it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. even hotter still with the way azriel tugged you to him as though he’d rather die than have you stop touching him. you greedily obliged, taking the lead this time. azriel cursed under his breath as you kissed him again, tangling his curls between your fingers. there was something intoxicating about him—his taste, his touch, his kiss. you couldn’t get enough.
when you finally came up for breath, the shadowsinger looked at you as though he’d been starving for centuries and you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of his hunger. azriel wanted to devour you.
but tonight, he’d settle for a kiss. except, it was anything but.
azriel was fucked.
he blinked, drinking in your lust added gaze and flushed cheeks. you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and it was all he could do to reel himself in. “are…are all first kisses like that?” your voice was hoarse from disuse and utterly sexy.
“no,” azriel answered honestly. “i’ve never had a kiss like that.”
your grin brought out a set of dimples that azriel had long ago deemed as his greatest weaknesses. “and i’ve never had a first kiss, period.”
and you never will again, azriel thought. not if he could help it.
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“does that feel good, love?” azriel asked as he pressed a kiss against your collar bone.
you whimpered as his lips trailed between the valley of your breasts. since that first kiss, you and azriel hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other. over the last few weeks, the apprehension you felt about your inexperience slowly started to feel like a blessing in disguise. azriel said you were a fast learner, but only because he was such a great teacher.
“gods,” you breathed, clutching the sheets as azriel continued his descent.
“you can just call me az, you know.”
you rolled your eyes at the cheeky male below you. from this angle, he certainly looked like a god. his hair was a tousled mess, dark curls tangled from where you ran your fingers through it. sweat dripped down his shirtless torso, his golden brown skin glowing in the afternoon light. you were vaguely aware that the sun as setting over the horizon, which meant that the rest of your friends would be arriving for dinner, but neither one of you seemed to care.
during the past few weeks, you and azriel continued your lessons. first base was easy enough to master. the two of you put in plenty of hours sneaking off to make out in azriel’s room, the wine cellar, the training pits, and even in feyre’s art studio at the river house once when things really got desperate. it was a wonder that your friends hadn’t caught you yet. there had been several close calls with cassian. mostly because the male was a nosy busybody.
second base took a little more work. you were terrified at first. you and azriel had been making out in your bed for what seemed like hours before you finally mustered up the courage to slip your hand into his trousers. the shadowsinger made a sound that was half growl and half purr and for a split second you were afraid that you’d hurt him. when you voiced your fears, azriel was quick to reassure you.
“i’m not in pain, love.” azriel said, his voice strained and breathy. “trust me, i feel the complete opposite.”
“tell me how to make you feel good, az.”
the string of curse words that fell from his lips were so filthy that it made you blush. the shadowsinger guided your hand over his cock and you nearly gasped at the impressive length. azriel was hot and hard beneath your touch, his wings flexing as you grasped him in your hand.
“loosen your grip, love.” azriel adjusted your hand, motioning for your fingers to relax and mold against him. you mimicked his movement, eliciting a low rumble out of the shadowsinger. the competitive part of you awakened, eager to make azriel groan like that again. you gazed up at azriel through your lashes with determination. “gods, don’t look at me like that y/n or this lesson will be over before it’s even started.”
heat erupted in your core, but you shook the desire away. this was about azriel. you wanted to make him come undone for once instead of the other way around. “show me, az.” you said. “i want to see how you touch yourself.”
“cauldron boil me,” azriel muttered under his breath. “you’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”
you watched as he gripped himself and pumped at a steady pace. he slowed down the movements for you and you studied each flick of his wrist as though you’d be tested on it later. as sinful as it was, there was something heavenly about watching azriel stroke himself. your hands itched to touch him. once you felt confident enough, azriel let you take over.
azriel’s eyes rolled back as you pumped his shaft, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest. his heavy breathing filled the room and it quickly became your favorite sound in the world.
you felt a strange rush of power witnessing azriel in such a vulnerable state. his lids were heavy with lust, golden eyes barely visible from the ring of onyx swallowing up his irises. you thought he looked pretty like this, his head tilted back against your headboard while his lips parted to release a shallow breath every now and then.
"you have no idea how good that feels, love." azriel grunted. you tightened your grip, spreading the bead of precum over his tip. your little improvisation was met with a moan that seeped into your bones.
"how good, az?" you teased.
those long lashes of his kissed the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered close. "fucking amazing," azriel declared. "keep going, love. don't stop, please. gods—"
"you can just call me y/n, you know."
azriel growled in response before pulling you in for a heated kiss. his hips thrust up to match your pace as his tongue parted your lips. he swallowed your moans, devouring you like his life depended on it.
“just like that, love.” azriel said in appreciation. “you’re doing such a good job, y/n.”
the praise affected you more than you thought it would. you were always seeking positive feedback when it came to your work, especially in training, but this was something else. it only encouraged you to keep going at a faster pace until azriel was coming undone in your hands. the sight of him losing control would forever be etched in your mind.
the more azriel gave, the more you craved. not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. the whole thing may have started as a practical way to tackle sex, but as time went on, it started to evolve into something else entirely.
until the lessons weren’t really just lessons anymore.
if you had to pinpoint the moment when everything changed, it would have been a few days after winter solstice. azriel had been away for a mission and was unable to make it home for the festivities. throughout the night, you kept finding yourself fidgeting and glancing at the empty seat beside you. at one point during dinner, cassian squeezed your hand and smiled sadly.
“i’m sure he misses you too, y/n.”
the gravity of those words hit you full force when you found azriel standing in the doorway of your flat. he was still dressed in his combat leathers and dark circles formed underneath his eyes as though he’d flown nonstop from wherever he was to get back home. before you could stop yourself, you rushed at him and nearly knocked him into the street from the force of your hug.
“i know, love.” azriel murmured softly into your hair. “i missed you, too.”
one bath and two cups of hot chocolate later, you found yourself curled up on the sofa as snow fell softly against the windowpane. you set your drink down on the table and turned to face azriel.
“so, i was thinking…”
the corner of azriel’s mouth quirked. “that’s never good.”
you tossed a pillow at him and rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson, for once.”
the shadowsinger looked intrigued by that. “oh yeah? and what do you want to teach me, love?”
“i’m going to teach you how to sleep, az.” you pointedly stared at his bruised eyes, which only made him chuckle in amusement. “because judging from those bags underneath your eyes, you’re no expert in the matter.”
“i don’t get a say in this, do i?” shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too yearned for rest.
“nope,” you said cheerfully, dragging him off the couch and into your bedroom.
azriel let you bully him into getting underneath the covers. he tucked his wings to the side as he faced you. “what’s so great about this thing you call sleep, then? seems pretty boring to me.”
“well if you’d let me demonstrate,” you said impatiently before tugging him towards you. azriel chuckled and scooted closer. “i’ll have you know i’m a world class cuddler.”
“yeah? prove it then, love.” azriel teased.
the shadowsinger watched in amusement as you bossed him around. first you made him lie on his stomach and then pulled him to your chest. as much as he enjoyed teasing the absolute hell out of you, he couldn’t help but murmur in satisfaction as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. even his shadows seemed to enjoy bathing in your warmth and breathing in your jasmine shampoo.
“mmm,” az mumbled sleepily. for the first time in gods knew how long, he felt warm and safe and content. “you’re bossy as hell, but comfy too.”
“i know, you stubborn giant bat baby.”
the shadowsinger snorted. “giant bat baby?”
you rolled your eyes fondly. “shut up and cuddle, az.”
azriel burrowed himself further until his body heat warmed every inch of your skin. “that’s the good stuff,” he declared, brushing a soft kiss against your collarbone.
“told you i was good,” you said with a smile. azriel couldn’t even argue. with your hands massaging his scalp and your legs intertwined with his, the shadowsinger would’ve agree to anything you said.
“the best,” he hummed against your skin.
this was dangerous territory. with your other lessons, it was easy to shove aside your feelings because pleasure made it hard to think about anything else. but with azriel laying on your chest and clinging onto you like this meant something more…you could no longer avoid that pesky voice of doubt.
you were in love with azriel.
you had been for a long time.
shit.
“y/n?” azriel asked, cutting through the turmoil of your thoughts. his wings draped over the sides of your bed, relaxed and at ease.
“yeah?”
his golden eyes found yours in the dark. for a second, he stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. the shadowsinger opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled.
“good night, love.”
in that moment, you knew azriel had your heart in the palm of his hand. “good night, az.”
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azriel knew it was only a matter of time before these lessons came back to bite him on the ass.
he had been so eager that first night. mostly because he'd had a crush on you for so long and it was finally time to do something about it. the shadowsinger knew that he probably should've just told you how he felt, but he didn't want to shatter this delicate thing between you.
after all, these were just lessons. for all he knew, he was just your practice partner. it wasn't really all that different from sparring. except your weapons where your lips and your hands and your fucking smile that made his heart skip a beat every time you so much as grinned at him from across the room.
gods, he was so fucked.
the reality of it didn't fully hit him until that disastrous spring night.
the two of you had perfected third base eons ago. azriel knew how to make you cum with his mouth using a combination of expert tongue flicks and help from his shadows. nothing brought him joy like your shaking legs greedily wrapping around him as he ate your pussy like a man starved.
azriel thought he found the key to happiness until you returned the favor and went down on him.
finding restraint was hard. reeling his desire in while you knelt before him with your lips wrapped around his cock was nearly impossible.
"like this?" you asked, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. azriel thought he was going to come right then and there when you looked up at him through your lashes, determination burning in your gaze.
you had always been intense. azriel knew that much from months of training together, but he didn't expect you to approach sex with the same competitiveness. you put your all into everything you did, which is what made azriel fall for you in the first place. he just didn't think you'd take the same approach when it came to sucking his dick. not that he was complaining.
in fact, all he could really do was moan.
the shadowsinger attempted to pull it together long enough to utter a coherent sentence. he had to at least attempt to say something helpful. you were putting your trust in him. he liked knowing that he'd been your first everything. now he just had to muster up the courage to tell you that he also intended to be the last.
he tried. he really did.
that night in his room. laying in bed with your legs tangled together. the soft spring breeze billowing through your curtains. azriel watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned towards him.
"so, what now?" you asked.
azriel's brows furrowed with confusion. "what do you mean, love?"
you tilted your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you mulled over what to say next. it was one of your many little quirks that azriel adored. "i mean, what happens now? we've pretty much covered all the bases. except for one."
sex. you hadn't had sex yet. azriel knew this would come up sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be the latter. while it was easy to pretend that the lessons were just lessons to him, azriel couldn't do that with sex. it had always been hard for him to separate his feelings from the physical act and as much as he wanted to make sure that your first experience would be with someone who loved you, it wouldn't be fair to have sex without telling you the truth.
"i don't think that would be a good idea." as soon as the words left his mouth, azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. he could tell that much from the look on your face. "i just mean, we shouldn't rush into anything."
"rush?" you asked incredulously. "azriel, we've spent the last three months doing anything and everything under the sun except sex."
"and it's been great," azriel said, trying to reel the conversation back in. "the lessons. trusting each other. but i just think you should take a step back and consider if you're truly ready."
that intense gaze he loved so much suddenly felt like the sweltering sun that azriel couldn't wait to shy away from. "you were my first kiss, az. my first everything. i think i've made it pretty clear on where i stand." you paused for a second, scanning his face. "oh my gods. i didn't even think to ask if you wanted this."
you were up before the absurdity of that statement could sink into azriel. if he wanted this? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.
"they were just lessons," you murmured to yourself while gathering your clothes. “how could i be so stupid?”
"y/n, please." azriel pleaded, not entirely believing what he was hearing. he nearly tripped over his own bedsheets as he followed you across the room.
“no, az. i’m sorry, i thought—“ your eyes brimmed with tears. the sight broke his fucking heart. “it’s not your fault. i just assumed—“
“that i’m in love with you?” azriel asked, gently gripping your wrists. you froze, wide eyes pinning azriel in place. “because i am, you know. i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. this past few months, it’s killed me to pretend that whatever this is between us is just lessons.”
your gaze softened. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”
azriel chuckled bitterly. “because i’m a coward. i was scared that you might not feel the same way, so i settled for whatever scraps you were willing to give me.”
tears filled your eyes again and azriel was scared he’d fucked it up again, but you wiped your cheeks and cupped his face. “you deserve more than that, azriel.”
“i know, love.” he bowed his head. “and you deserve more than just lessons. that’s why i don’t want to have sex. not unless you know what this means to me. if we do this, there will be no one else. not today, not ever. i may be your first, but i also intend to be your last. if you’ll let me.”
a stray tear fell down your cheek, but it was a happy one this time. “if you haven’t noticed, i’m totally crazy about you, az. i think i’ve been in love with you longer than i wanted to admit.”
“can’t blame you,” the shadowsinger said. “i’m totally lovable.”
you smacked him in the chest, but azriel only laughed before he kissed you. really kissed you. it felt like you were floating on air.
gods, you loved him. you really did.
you smiled into the kiss. “i love you, az.”
the shadowsinger kissed the tip of your nose. “i love you too, y/n.”
“so…no more lessons, right?”
azriel shook his head and scooped you into his arms. “no more lessons. i want the real thing this time.”
2K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 7 months
Text
silk and rope 2
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ddlg harry and submissive/little y/n
in which feelings start to grow, y/n is impatient, and harry has to punish her (and someone says something they shouldn't).
word count: 6.7k
content warnings: daddy dom and little/sub y/n dynamics, smut!!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, doggy style, cream pie/a little bit of cum play, use of a collar, y/n in her little space). as stated in the first part, there may be some things pertaining to bdsm/daddy dom relationships that are wrong, but I did my best with researching!!! pls don't hate me if something isn't right!!!!!!
masterlist | read part one
talk to me
. . .
The next morning, Y/N wakes up to an empty bed. 
She's sweating, though, and she realizes it's because her body is covered in almost every fuzzy blanket in her apartment, including her comforter. With her eyes still shut, she stretches her legs out and rolls to the side, only for her face to be met with a piece of paper on the pillow next to hers. 
She hums in confusion as she wiggles her hands out of the burrito of blankets she's encased in, flipping open the note. 
Y/N,
Good morning, I hope you slept well. I had to leave early for work, but I checked your calendar downstairs and saw that you don't have to go in until 2, so I left you sleeping. (Just so you know, I slept on the couch — we hadn't spoken about boundaries after sex so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way.)
I assume your body is probably still sore from last night, so there's a heating pad on the coffee table and a few cold compresses in the freezer I made before leaving. I'm sorry I'm not here to take care of you but please text me when you're awake. I'd like to talk through everything we did and see how you felt about it all. 
Have a good day xx 
Daddy
Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth to avoid a grin from breaking out onto her face. She feels like a teenage girl, the way she clutches the handwritten note to her chest, butterflies readily swarming her stomach as she thinks back to the previous night. Memories start to flood back — she'd allowed herself to go under, further than she'd gone in a really long time, but Harry... he'd gone beyond her wildest dreams. 
She's lying if she says she hadn't at least contemplated what he's like in an intimate setting — he's beautiful, for Christ's sake, and Naomi mentioned once that they drunkenly made out once, describing it as "one of the best kisses I've ever had" — but it felt as though he'd been crafted just for her. He had worked her up and up, teasing her, pushing her limits but always making her feel safe and cared for. She'd never came that much with a dominant before either, which certainly wasn't a downside.
And when it was over... when she was still so floaty and moony-eyed over him, he tucked her into the safety of his body. He ran them a warm bath and washed her skin and hair, put new bedding on her mattress, and pulled sweatpants and a tee-shirt over her form. If she's honest, she hardly remembers much of the aftermath, but she does recall feeling completely and utterly peaceful. 
Y/N doesn't know if she's ever felt that way in her entire life. There's a part of her — a rather big one, if she's honest — that wonders how Harry, of all people, the sweet guy in her friend group that's always too busy working to hang out, managed to get her there.
She shakes her head in an effort to rid herself of the thoughts, not wanting to over-think everything so early in the morning. She'd had such a good time last night and she hopes it had been the same for him, so she's eager to leave it at that.
As requested, though, she grabs her phone from her nightstand (she doesn't remember plugging it in last night, but she assumes Harry did) and pulls up their conversation, firing off a quick text to let him know she's awake. It's not even two minutes before she's receiving an incoming call from him. 
"Hello?" Y/N answers, her voice slightly scratchy from using it for the first time that morning. 
"Hey," Harry greets. She knows he's at work, but it sounds like he's outside somewhere, faint sounds of cars going by in the background. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Where are you?"
"Work," he replies easily, then pauses. "Well, I came downstairs to call you. Didn't want everyone to hear my conversation with you."
"Oh. Isn't it cold out?" Y/N hasn't checked the weather yet but there's already a frosty chill in the air of her apartment, and she's sure when her feet touch the floors, her body will immediately recoil. 
"A little. I'm wearing a sweater, I'm fine. Are you feeling alright?"
She hums as she quickly takes inventory of her body, stretching her limbs out, though her movements are softened by the blankets she's under. 
"I'm a little sore, but otherwise good. Someone put like, 20 blankets on top of me so it's a bit hard to tell."
Harry snorts at that, "Yeah, babe, your apartment is fuckin' freezing at night. I think there's something wrong with your thermostat."
"Mhmm. It's been broken for months, I've been bugging the landlord to do something about it."
"I'll take care of it. There's no way I'm letting you go into winter like that."
Her body warms at his assertive tone, her fingers finding a loose thread on her tee-shirt to play with. 
"So, we don't have to talk about this all right now — I know you just got up and probably need some time to digest, but I just want to make sure everything we did last night was alright." Harry says, the sound of a car whizzing by serving as a punctuation to his sentence. 
"It was great," Y/N replies, perhaps far too quickly for her own good, "Really. You were, um... really good."
"Yeah?" he chuckles and it makes her cheeks flush even more. "You were really good, too. I had a nice time with you."
"Do you... would you wanna continue this?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She hasn't really entertained a version of this where Harry doesn't want to be her dominant, but she supposes that she could do with one night if he didn't have an interest in continuing.
"Of course," he murmurs easily, his voice noticeably dropping a lower tone, "Do you?"
"Yes. Yeah. Absolutely."
"Lucky me."
She nearly chokes on her own spit on that, but just manages to keep it together, hoping he didn't hear her visceral reaction over the phone. 
"You go in to work this afternoon, right?" Harry asks, moving on way too quickly that it makes Y/N's head spin just a bit.
"Yeah, I'm 2 to 8 today."
"Okay. I packed you a lunch this morning before I left, it's in the fridge. Do you want me to pick you up again or are you fine getting home on your own?"
Her heart almost bursts at him making her lunch, though she forces herself to focus on his question, contemplating it. She's usually pretty exhausted at the end of a closing shift, even if most of her work doesn't consist of taking customer orders. She'll probably be too tired to do anything sexual, but she now knows that her relationship with Harry stretches beyond the bedroom. It's what she's always wanted, but now that she has it—well, what did she want?
"How about this," Harry interjects her hamster wheel of thinking, "You text me when you get home—I wanna know when you're back safe, anyway—and let me know if you want me to come over or if you wanna be alone, hm? Either one is perfectly fine for me."
Y/N breathes out a sigh of relief (one she didn't even know she was holding) and nods, even if he can't see it. 
"Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thank you."
"'Course, bunny. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Make those big decisions for you."
She swallows at the nickname, instantly transporting back to the previous night. His tone has a teasing lilt to it but it still warms her entire body. 
"Gonna be good for me today?" he continues and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, "No touching, remember? Those orgasms are daddy's."
"Mhm," she squeaks out. "No touching."
"Good girl," she swears she can hear his smirk through the phone, "I have to get back to work, but text or call if you need anything, 'kay?"
"Okay. I will."
"Bye, bunny."
The line goes dead, and Y/N immediately smushes her face into her pillow.
. . .
Y/N doesn't have a good day at work. 
She's basically floating in on pink fluffy clouds when she begins her shift, a dopey smile wiggling its way onto her lips every time she thinks of last night. There's a dull ache between her thighs and her wrists have slight marks from being tied up, but you'd never be able to identify them if you didn't know they're there. It's like her own dirty little secret, and her entire body heats up when she catches a glance at them when she's piping frosting on cakes or kneading dough.
Her rose-tinted glasses fade away within an hour, though, when she accidentally lets a few loaves of sourdough burn because she's taking care of customers in the front while her coworker is on a break. It's a waste of a few days work and ingredients, and the guilt and disappoint creeps up and gnaws at her. 
After that, she messes up on decorating a wedding cake — she's normally aces at making roses, but the buttercream she made splits, and she can't seem to get anything right — but the final straw comes in the form of a father coming in with his bratty kids who press their noses up against the glass displays. Y/N politely asks them to take a step back, that she's more than happy to give them samples of whatever they'd like, but the dad chews her out, calls her incompetent, and leaves Y/N with watery eyes.
Thankfully, she only has 30 minutes left of her shift after that, and she's able to hide in the back and work on peanut butter sandwich cookies by herself. After that, she bids a quiet goodbye to her coworkers, bundles herself up in her jacket, and allows the tears to free fall as she walks the short distance to her car. She just wants to go home, shower off the flour and frosting that she's sure has seeped into her pores, and go to sleep. And really, that's the plan, because Y/N has a bad habit of isolating herself when she's feeling down, until she parks outside of her apartment and glances down at her locked phone to see a message from Harry, received two minutes ago. 
I hope you had a great day at work. Let me know if you need anything. If not, can I come see you this weekend? xx 
And she's just so... not used to anyone checking up on her after work that she bursts into tears on the spot. Sitting in her idle car, clutching her phone to her ear as she listens to the dial tone, awaiting the sound of Harry's voice on the other side. 
"Hello?" 
He picks up after three rings and there's a twinge of surprise apparent in his voice, but it quickly melts to concern when he identifies Y/N's sniffles through the receiver. 
"What's wrong, baby?" He immediately coos, "Did something happen? Are you alright?"
"I had such a shitty day, Harry," she cries into the phone, haphazardly wiping salty tears from her cheeks. 
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. What do you need? Do you just need to vent?"
She sniffs and knuckles at her eye. "Would it be too much to ask you to come over?"
There's some shuffling in the background that Y/N can't make out, but Harry's voice resurfaces quickly. 
"Of course not. I'm bringing you leftovers for dinner, just sit tight until I get there. I won't be more than 10 minutes."
"Thank you," she peeps out, gazing down at her lap, "And... Harry, is it okay that I don't wanna do anything tonight?" 
The background noise stops, a period of quiet overtaking the line. She gnaws at the skin of her bottom lip anxiously until Harry responds not a moment later.
"That will never be a problem with me, Y/N."
Her heart rate slows instantly. 
. . .
There aren't many things that give Harry anxiety. 
If he had to list them out, it would look something like this: Getting stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, a messy home, when someone says "can I talk to you?", and, on the occasion, when he's had to fire people at work. 
Today, he discovers, Y/N calling him crying lands at the very top of that list. The second he heard her teary voice on the line, he threw himself out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats on. He didn't even know if she wanted him there and yet, he knew in that moment that he needed to be close to her, to fuss over and take care of her. 
He tells her he'll be there in 10 but it's really just shy of 7 since he speeds there, a to-go container of eggplant parmesan riding in the passengers seat. He doesn't even bother to text her or knock on the door; somehow, he knows she's left it unlocked for him, and when he finds her defeated, crumpled body slouched over on the couch, his heart breaks. 
"Oh, my sweet little cry baby," Harry murmurs as he takes large strides over to her, instantly wrapping her up in his arms. "Poor baby, had such a shit day at work."
She nods into the crook of his neck as the tears start up again. His face crumbles and he kisses her hair, stroking his palm over her shoulder blades. 
"There you go," he encourages, the sullen sobs from her chest beginning to slow, "That's a good girl. Just breathe. Daddy's got you."
When Y/N is finally done crying, she's embarrassed by the puddle she leaves on Harry's tee-shirt, but he doesn't say a thing. Instead, he scoops her up and fluffs a blanket around her form before pressing a kiss to her forehead. 
"Gonna go heat your dinner up, alright? Pick something good to watch on TV."
Wordlessly, she nods as he hands her the remote. She settles on Jeopardy, which of course makes Harry chuckle when he reappears with a warm plate of homemade food. 
"Who knew you were such an old lady?" He teases, setting it in her lap, "Be careful, okay? It's hot, don't want you to burn yourself."
They sit in silence on Y/N's couch, tuned into Jeopardy with Harry occasionally murmuring out wrong answers. It makes them both laugh, and when Y/N finishes her serving, she crawls into his lap with a full belly and an even fuller heart. 
Neither of them want to admit it in the moment, but they both know there's nowhere else they'd rather be. 
. . .
It's a few weeks more before Harry decides to have an official check-in with Y/N.
"This sounds like I'm receiving a professional review," she grumbles, sitting across one another in Harry's favorite coffee shop. They're both wearing cozy sweaters now that the weather is finally starting to chill, though Y/N still wraps her lips around the straw of an iced matcha. (Harry replied by asking if she was an ice witch.)
"Shush, don't be dramatic," he says, leaning forward and flipping his palm up. He motions for her to place her hand in his, so she does. "I just want to make sure we're both content and happy in this still. If there's anything more I could be doing, I want to know."
"You've gone beyond any of my expectations, you know that," Y/N replies easily as she crosses her legs. "No notes on my end."
"What about in bed?" He asks, lowering his voice to a quiet murmur. "Is there anything you're unhappy with? Anything you want to try?"
She shrugs, thinking back to the many scenes they've had since they began their relationship. She knew from the first night that she trusted Harry implicitly, but that trust only blossomed the deeper they went. She fell into her little space nearly every time they were intimate, even if it was just Harry licking into her at the end of a long day. And while there were soft, slow moments, the intense ones seemed to be more fulfilling for both of them — the evenings when she was gagged and tied up, when he edged her for hours, when she was down on her knees as he fucked her throat and refused to let her swallow his cum until she was drooling down her chin. 
She'll never admit this out loud, but she wonders if Harry was somehow handcrafted just for her.
She clears her throat, playfully rolling her eyes at the knowing smirk on Harry's face — one that says I know what you're thinking about, and she pinches the fleshy part of his hand in response. He chuckles and wrinkles his nose at her before taking a sip of his espresso (it came in a ridiculously small cup, and Y/N had to resist making fun of him of it). 
"I think we can move on to things that would require more trust," she says carefully, casting her eyes down at the table. Harry makes a faint tsk-ing noise with his mouth. 
"Eyes on me, bunny." he instructs softly, "Tell me what you want to try."
Y/N wiggles slightly in her seat, readjusting her position as her thighs clench at the use of his more dominating tone. 
"Um... a collar, maybe," she murmurs, pausing to take a sip of her matcha as Harry nods, "I would like if we experimented with anal."
"Have you done that before?" 
"Mhm. I like it a lot."
Harry straightens his posture and swallows harshly. She wonders if he decided to have this conversation in public as some sort of test for both of them. They're keeping their voices low enough so only they can hear one another, but Y/N knows it's turning both of them on.
"I have toys and such," she continues when he doesn't reply. He squeezes his eyes shut and she bites her bottom lip, leaning forward over the table. "A few plugs... I have one that's nearly too big, I always have to work it in."
"Enough," he mutters, giving her hand a warning squeeze. "We'll... we'll do that, yeah."
She lets out a giggle and he grumbles, releasing her hand and crossing his arms over his chest. 
"Is there anything else you want to do?"
He rolls his lips into his mouth and she can tell that he's mulling over something, though she doesn't know what. They've always been quite open with one another, so for him to be in a state of contemplation feels silly.
"You know you can tell me anything," Y/N murmurs, occupying her newly freed hand with the condensation leaking from her cup. "No judgement."
Harry nods, matching her posture as he places his elbows on the wood table of the booth. "This is an exclusive relationship, right? You're not sleeping with anyone else."
She nods her head. "Of course."
"Neither am I," he says, glancing up at her, "I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with forgoing condoms."
Y/N's eyebrows shoot up. She's never gone bare with anyone before, not even with people she slept with for long periods of time. It's a big ask — they're both aware of that, otherwise he wouldn't be bringing it up in this context. 
"Can I ask why?" she questions. The thought of feeling Harry without a barrier is... overwhelming at the very least, but in the best way possible. Her stomach flutters at the thought of it, actually, especially considering the trust she has in him. 
"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to or you feel uncomfortable. I just... I was thinking, and I decided that I would really like it. To be with you — inside you — in the closest way possible. Does that make sense?"
It does — it makes a lot of sense, and she's nodding her head in agreement automatically without even giving it much thought. She doesn't need to think about it, but now she's confirmed that her body works on autopilot when it comes to him, giving her away without giving her a chance to overthink it. 
"Yes," Y/N answers, affirmatively and with confidence, "I'm— I'm on birth control and I'm clean. I got tested after Todd ended things."
"Seems like that's the only thing he was good for," he says cheekily, and she gently kicks at his foot under the table, "I'm clean, too."
"Okay. Good."
"Very good."
"Do you... are you free for the rest of the day?" she asks, her eyes moving to the window they're sat next to. Rain is falling steadily, fat drops of water painting the glass. 
They both know what she's asking. It's a more polite way of saying, do you want to come over and have unprotected sex and maybe choke me and play with my bum, too?
Harry chuckles, leaning across to swipe his thumb over her cheek. She revels in his touch. 
"I have to run a few errands, but I can come over this afternoon if you're free. Does that sound okay?" 
"Mhm."
"Alright. Let's get you home, then."
. . .
After Harry drops Y/N at home, she falls into her little space.
It's not even on purpose — it's just the context of the conversation they had at the coffee shop. They'd only played once or twice this past week because she had an opening shifts at the bakery (a 3 a.m. wakeup call simply wasn't enough for her to sleep off her soreness from their most recent scene), so they'd resorted to quickies on Harry's lunch hour. On Monday and Wednesday, he sped over to Y/N's just as she was getting home from her own job, bounced her on his cock, gave her two or three orgasms, and came down her throat. While she peed, he ordered her lunch, then wrapped her up in her favorite blankets, tucked her in on the couch, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading back to work.
So, given all that, it kind of makes sense. She's craving the sweet, floaty feeling and with thoughts of Harry making her his (in every sense of the word), she slips. She doesn't tell Harry that it happens, instead just toddling up to her bedroom to change out of her clothes and into one of her favorite pale blue lingerie sets, complete with thigh high socks to keep her warm while she waits for him. 
But she's not in the right headspace.
And she doesn't know when Harry's coming back, because he didn't say.
She's panicky and teary eyed, missing her dominant, but more than that, she's horny. She's so turned on that she's pacing around the length of her apartment to rub her thighs together and create some type of friction, the arousal leaking from her core creating strings between her legs. And even in her little space, she knows she's not supposed to touch herself, but it's been days since Harry made her cum. 
In a sudden decision, she goes back upstairs and rifles through the box underneath her bed. It's filled with a few butt plugs, vibrators, and dildos. Despite the temptation, she avoids the clit stimulation toys and grabs her mid-sized butt plug. It's not for pleasure, she tells herself — it's because it's been ages since she's had someone fuck her back there and she needs proper stretching. If she puts it in now, by the time Harry gets back, she'll be open enough for his cock.
Y/N lays back against the fluffy pillows and blankets on her bed, propping herself up with her plug and a bottle of lube in hand. All of her plugs have pretty little jewels on the end, but this one in particular is her favorite — it has a pink heart on the end with a glass body, and she's so excited to show it off to Harry. 
She's done this process many times, both on her own and with a partner. When she reaches between her thighs, she's already drenched, unsurprisingly so, and she uses some of her leaking arousal to press a finger into the tight rim of muscles. She initially gasps, pleasure quickly fizzling up inside of her and making her feel fuzzy and warm. 
When she drizzles some lube on to her hole, she gets up to three fingers and by the time it's a comfortable fit, she's craving the plug. With a cautious amount covering the glass orb, she slowly pushes it in, a satisfied moan garbling deep from her chest. It feels so good, a fullness that she's never been able to achieve otherwise, floating her up and up onto cotton candy clouds. 
She resists the overwhelming urge to toy with her pussy while she lays there for however long. Every time she shifts her position, she feels the plug move ever so slightly, eliciting a harsh gasp from her throat, her eyes fluttering closed. She's so gone — so, so gone that she doesn't even notice Harry's text, nor does she realize that he's at her house, knocking on her door and, when she doesn't answer, uses the key he has for emergencies to let himself in. 
(After Y/N accidentally locked herself out one night at the end of a closing shift and the locksmith didn't come until the following morning, forcing her to stay over at his per his demand, the whole key exchange thing was kind of a given.)
She really, truly doesn't realize it until he walks into her bedroom with frazzled eyes, worried that's somethings wrong, only to be met with his sweet little submissive sprawled out on the bed, a plug wedged between her ass cheeks and her gleaming pussy on display. 
"Daddy!" She exclaims, rising to her knees, "When did you get here?"
Harry walks in and sits on the edge of the bed, taking her cheek into his large palm. 
"Just did, sweetheart. How are you?"
"Mm, really good," she giggles, wiggling her bottom, "I did something— nothing bad, I promise, I didn't touch myself." 
"No?" He murmurs, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "What'd you do, angel girl?"
"Can I show you?"
He already knows what she did — he saw it the second he stepped through the doorframe, his throat immediately going dry at the sight. But when he notices how blown out her pupils are, the wide eyes and her high-pitched voice, he realizes that she must've gone to her little space somewhere over the past few hours, and he feels like a shitty dominant. 
As soon as Harry nods, Y/N flips over and pushes her bum towards him, showcasing the pretty jewel. His hands find the thick of her ass, rubbing gently. 
"So pretty, baby doll," he murmurs, and he means it — she looks gorgeous, all stuffed up for him. He taps the plug gently and she whimpers, making him smile. "Did you do this for daddy?"
"Mhmm," she hums, pushing her tummy down to the bed. "Missed you so much, just wanted to get all ready for you."
"I missed you more." Harry says softly, wrapping a hand around her hip and tugging her back up so he can see her face. "Are you feeling little, honey?"
She nods. 
"Yeah? When did that happen?"
She thinks for a moment, trying to remember the hours she spent after he dropped her off at home. "I think a little after you left. I didn't know when you were coming back."
"You know daddy will always come back, right?" He asks, brushing some of her hairs out of her face. "And you can always call or text me if you get nervous."
"I don't wanna bother daddy."
"You're never a bother, baby. You're my princess, hm?" He punctuates his sentiment with a kiss to her nose, making a small smile appear on her lips. "You're my good girl and I'll do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face. Okay?"
Y/N peers up at him through her eyelashes. "Really?"
He smiles. "Of course."
She wiggles into his lap and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist. She hugs him tightly as he presses a series of light kisses to the crown of her head. 
"Got you a present today." He murmurs into her hair. She glances up at him with wide eyes. 
"What'd you get me?"
"Why don't I show you?"
Reluctantly, she moves off of his lap and lays back against the bed, squeezing her thighs at the slight movement of the plug inside her. He jogs downstairs and returns with a dark red box. 
"You mentioned wanting one earlier and I couldn't get the image out of my head," he admits, sitting back down next to her and opening the box. Inside, there's a black leather color attached to a silver hooped leash, the word daddy's embroidered in light pink across the material. "What do you think?"
"'S pretty," she mumbles, reaching out to run her fingers over the leather. "For me?"
"Yeah, baby, it's for you."
A grin breaks out across her face and she sits up, baring her neck to him. "Put it on me, please?"
He nods and complies, a pleasant feeling washing over him at her willingness to immediately wear it. He clips the leather around her neck, tugging gently on the chain. A whimper sounds from her lips and he smirks. 
"Filthy girl," he mutters, wrapping the chain around his knuckles. "Now, I know you said you didn't play with yourself, but that includes toys. You couldn't wait to put your pretty plug in until daddy came back?"
She swallows. "I... I guess I should've."
"You should have," Harry echoes with a nod. "I know you're desperate for me to own your cute little asshole, but you should've waited, bunny."
"I'm sorry, daddy."
He hums, tugging on the chain to bring her head down to the bed. She gasps at the sudden movement as he maneuvers her hips, raising them so her ass is in the air. He can feel himself thickening in his jeans — she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half except for those god forsaken thigh high socks, and they're going straight to his cock. His limits as a dominant have never been tested as hard as they are with Y/N; normally, he's able to control his powerful facade without a blink, but she, of course, makes it difficult. And she does it all without even trying. 
Harry holds in a sigh as he runs his hands over the expanse of her hips, giving them a small squeeze. She's so far under and desperate to be touched that something as minuscule as that has her slowly rocking back into his grasp, yearning for something to take away the persistent ache between her thighs.
"I'm gonna have to punish you," he mumbles, though it's apparent in his tone that he's forcing himself to do this. If he wasn't so hellbent on maintaining a proper dominant-submissive dynamic, he would already have his prick balls deep inside of her. "Nothing too bad since you didn't technically disobey, but you did touch yourself, and I'm sure you got a lot of pleasure from it."
His pants continue to tighten as the image flashes across his brain — his sweet girl spread out on the bed, knees to her chest, two fingers knuckle deep in her ass as she moans and mewls over the prospect of being filled up back there. It's enough to make him shudder, her small and pathetic whimper from below the only thing that takes him out of it.
"It was for you, daddy." she insists, and he notices that her posture has fallen slightly, her face now down in the tufts of her bedding with zipped up thighs to show off the curves of her ass. 
"Mm, but you didn't ask, bunny. You know better, don't you?"
A beat. Then, "Yes, daddy. I know better."
He hums and pinches at the crease of her thighs. She's expecting a spanking — if she has to guess, maybe 15 or 20 — but instead, Harry maneuvers back in front of her and tugs on the chain, lifting her head to look at him. His hand finds her chin and he squeezes gently, his eyes roaming over her warm and sweaty face.
Y/N is patiently waiting to be thrown over his knee and a firm slap to come down on her ass. But much to her surprise, he lets the chain go, stands up from the bed, and makes her watch as he undresses. Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't be as lusty as it currently is, but the tension is thick between them; Y/N feeling incredibly needy and Harry unable to stay away from her.
"Aren't you gonna punish me?" she asks as he pushes his jeans down, palming himself through his briefs. He nods curtly, avoiding her wide eyes.
"This is your punishment, pet," he murmurs, freeing his cock from the confides of the material, pumping once, "You're going to sit there, on your knees, and watch me jerk myself off. I'm not going to tie you up. You have to practice self control."
Her jaw drops open as he spits into his hand and begins to stroke himself. He's so hard that it hurts a little bit, so he can't imagine how desperate Y/N must be feeling. Her hands are twitching at her sides as she zeroes in on his prick, how thick and long and perfect it is, her stomach stirring as she watches him. 
"That's not nice," she mumbles, swallowing harshly, "Please... I-I've been waiting for you all day."
He can see her eyes beginning to well up and his heart cracks just a tad, but it's not enough to get him to stop. His balls are throbbing, the length of his cock wet with spit and pre-cum as he continues his strokes, top to bottom, over and over again.
"Ah, but you didn't, did you?" he says, dribbling down another bit of spit down to his cock, landing at the base. "You put a plug in that pretty ass. You stretched it out, didn't even let daddy get a taste before you did it."
"I'm s-sorry," Y/N blinks the free-flowing tears away, "Please daddy, I've wanted you all day, please—"
"Keep begging."
She's nervous that he'll cum before she even gets a chance to feel him, but little does she know he has no plan to. He knows how to edge himself, and he plans to do just that — he'd be a true masochist to allow himself to cum all over his fist without sinking inside either one of her holes.
"I need it so bad, please. It aches daddy, it hurts, I feel like I'm gonna explode, please—"
"And what do you want?" he presses, giving his balls a squeeze, "You can pick one hole for my cock to fuck and cum in. Which one is it?"
She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out with teary eyes. He wants to reach across the bed and squeeze her cheeks together, pressing kisses all over them, but he restrains. It's part of the punishment, the dominant part of brain reminds him.
"You have five seconds to decide or you get nothing."
"My pussy," Y/N blurts out, and it looks like she maybe even surprised herself with her answer. "Please. I want you to cum in there for the first time."
His cock twitches just at the words and he nods, taking her chain back into his hand. He shuffles back onto the bed and pulls her down, laying her down against the pillows. 
"Are you gonna take my cock like a good girl?" He asks, spreading her thighs open and hovering over her. 
"Yes, daddy," she answers obediently, licking over her plushy lips, "I— am I allowed to keep the plug in, daddy?"
"Is that what you'd like, baby? All filled up in both of your holes?" He peppers kisses over her chest and up to her neck, and she gasps lightly at he nips the skin. "Tell me now, yes or no."
"Yes," she breathes out, "I want that."
"My dirty girl."
He yanks at the chain again, sitting her up before flipping her onto her tummy. He props her hips up so her ass is high in the air, her face pressed down against the fluffy pillows. 
"You know what word to say if it's too much, right?" Harry asks as he pumps his cock, nearly twitching knowing he's so close to being inside of her. 
"Yes, daddy— p-please, put it in—"
He certainly doesn't need to be told twice. It's but a moment more before he's pressing his cock into her weepy hole, her wetness making a mess between her soft thighs. They both moan in unison when he enters without a barrier for the first time ever, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the pink jewel fitted between her cheeks. He pumps slowly at first with a hand pressed into her lower back, allowing her to get used to the deep angle, her whimpers from below egging him on. 
"What a good little girl," he mutters as he begins to speed up, sliding his hand down to the plug and pulling at it gently. She gasps and mewls, meeting his hips as she rocks back against him. "My little anal whore, yeah? Just love being filled up in both of your pretty holes."
"Yes, daddy!" She squeals beneath him. He already feels her clenching around his cock, her muscles tightening as he continues to pull the plug out in centimeter increments before slowly pushing it back in. 
"Tell me when you're gonna cum," he demands through harsh panting, "You know the rules." 
She winds her hands back around to each of her ass cheeks, spreading them. He groans out loudly and watches as his prick pumps in and out of her pussy, rings of her wet arousal covering his length. 
"Gonna cum, gonna— please!"
Y/N doesn't need anything else for stars to explode between her eyes, and she hardly notices the liquid gushing from her pussy as she comes. Harry withdraws and rubs at her clit, her moans music to his ears as she squirts all over the bed, her hole visibly pulsating. 
"Fucking nasty girl," he grunts when she stops, pushing his cock back inside. She gasps at how quickly he goes back to roughly fucking her, her eyes rolling back into her head at the overstimulation and fullness. 
"I want your cum," she pants out, "Fill me up daddy, please, I need it."
"I know, bunny, daddy's gonna give it to you," he replies through a tight jaw, burying his cock deep inside her pussy. His balls are throbbing at the tightness of her hole, especially with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She's drooling onto the bedsheets, a wet mess beneath him covered in squirt and sweat with a leather collar snapped around her neck — he's never seen anything more beautiful, and the vision itself has him at his end. 
"Fuck— I'm fuckin' coming, baby," he groans, pumping warm ropes deep into her pussy. She moans all the way through, immediately obsessed with the way it feels. She can feel his prick throbbing inside of her as he releases and it's the most delicious sensation. 
"That's my girl," Harry mutters as he slowly pulls his cock out, groaning to himself at the sight of her dripping pussy. "Push out for me, baby, let me see."
She does as she's told, using the little strength left in her muscles as she pushes out the thick cum he pumped into her. It's the first time either of them have done this, but it's apparent that it won't be the last. She whimpers at the sensation, wishing she could see what it looks like, but Harry's already using two fingers to push it back in. It's not enough to make her cum again — she thinks she's finally too sensitive for another orgasm to crawl up her body — but it still feels so good, knowing he wants to keep his load deep inside.
When he's finally done, he works slowly to remove the collar from her neck and lower her down to her stomach.
"You okay?" He asks softly. She hums against the fluff of her bed and he's not sure if it's a yes or a no. "I'm gonna take your plug out, okay? Can you tell me if that's alright?"
She tilts her head to the side and murmurs out an mhm, so he makes quick work to gently remove the butt plug from her hole. He bites his lip at the visual, placing the toy on her nightstand to wash later. 
"Bath time, angel girl," Harry murmurs, rubbing his palm up her back. "Daddy will clean you up."
She nods and he smiles gently, though he knows her brain is melted beyond belief. He tugs her body up and helps guide her to the bathroom on shaky legs, placing her on the toilet to do her regular post-sex pee. As usual, he looks away, but he knows this time will be a bit longer since the scene was messier. As she sits there, he fills the bathtub up with warm water and her favorite bubblebath.
When they lower into the water together, her muscles feel like jelly. He knows it's been a long day for her so he's not surprised at her quietness as he lathers body wash over her skin. Sometimes she slips out of her little space in the bath or when he's feeding her after a scene, but he expects her to maintain a near-silent demeanor from the intensity of the past few hours.
He helps her out and wraps her up in a fluffy towel, drying her skin off as she smiles softly at him. He gives her a granola bar to munch on as he changes the sheets, and when they're finally in bed together, exhausted from the day, he swears he hears her say the faintest words. 
Then, once more, they fall from her lips: "I love you."
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vettelsvee · 5 days
Text
... READY FOR IT? | Charles Leclerc
MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT REPUTATION ⋆ TRACK 1
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charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smau
summary: y/n finally decides she’s ready to make her relationship with charles public even people just hate her so much for her past dating other f1 drivers. 
taglist: [@celemilii @theseerbetweenus @anniee-mr @stelena-klayley @lozzamez3 @0710khj @afterg1ows @vincentvanshoe @coco-loco-nut @minkyungseokie @lemon-lav @stinkyjax @seokjinkismet @c-losur3 @annewithaneofthegreengable @khaylin27] thanks to all of you who wanted to be tagged! don't forget you can join my taglist by commenting or telling me through dm <3
a/n: i was supposed to start posting this on june 1st, but since we reached 500 followers here i wanted to start posting as a "celebration". i really don't like thinking about thing kind of things BUT i thought this was a special occasion, especially since you've received me really well here. thank you so much to you all who take time to read my works! i've never thought someone would read what i write tbh this is my very first smau so sorry if it's a little bit crap, i promise to improve for the next ones 🙏
you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!
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y/n just posted
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y/n we're sooooo back on track (for the third time, yes! idgaf what you all have to say 🥰)
liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 376193 others
user1 wait wasn't she dating mick schumacher? what is she doing in the ferrari garage?
user2 that was during 2021 season. she broke up with him and then started dating lando back in july 2022 if i remember correctly
f1gossip yep! in 2021 she dated mick, in 2022, lando, and now seems like she put her eyes on one of the ferrari guys 👀
user3 what a bitch. she's fucking everyone to get fame or...?
yourbestfriend go on girlie! show your amour your support 😌
y/n yourbestfriend what a stupid action... fuck you
user4 y/n are you going home? because that's what you should be doing lol
user5 guys I know that y/n might not be a piece of cake for everyone, but PLEASE, respect her
user7 exactly this!
charles_leclerc ❤️
user10 charles explain?
user11 wdym A READ HEART
user12 she might be dating charles omg
carlossainz55 happy to have you finally here! ❤️🙌🏻
user13 NOW CARLOS? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY GUYS? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
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y/n just posted
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y/n since you seem so interested, yep: i'm on the ferrari garage f1 are you spilling the tea? cos I'm not. xoxo, your friendly neighborhood wag
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y/n just posted
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y/n i was scared af to tell you that french dude and i've been dating for the past seven months. you can call me whore or whatever you want because at this point i don't really care about anything. it's been a wild ride with me feeling soooo uncomfortable with you commenting every now and then about my past relationships. i love mick and i love lando, but sometimes things don't work out, and you don't seem to understand that. anyways, all I have to say is that charles makes me the happiest woman on earth, and that we don't apologize for winning ❤️💋
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc life in these past seven months has been insane. y/n, bet your ready for more but... are you ready for it?
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atticsandwich · 2 months
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but you come back to what you need
pairing: mephistopheles / gn! reader (mc)
fluff, tension, mephisto's usual tsun tendencies, mc annoying their way into mephisto's heart etc etc
it's not your fault you enjoy crashing at the newspaper club room for your midday breaks. it's also definitely not your fault for pretending to be asleep when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, so it really can't be helped that you're trying to figure out how to get more.
i finally finished it LMFAO... i am so sorry for the delay fellow mephisto lovers....
prompt based off of this tiktok reddit video, although it took its own form eventually. (please give it a listen though it's way too fucking cute)
"You're here again?" Mephistopheles groans, seemingly annoyed, putting his pen down as you waltz into his office at the newspaper club room. It's spacious— almost as big as Lucifer's study back at home. You immediately find your place at the seating couch situated at the office's side, feeling your body sink into the soft cushion.
"Previous class drained the hell out of me," you groan, watching the demon across you roll his eyes. "I have a week to list out a bunch of plants I've never heard of and their most effective usage. Potions and stuff," you continue anyway.
"Hmph," he ignores the way you blatantly disregard his posed grievance of your visit, trying to return his focus to his paperwork. "...I have some books on Devildom botany on the second shelf."
You stop yourself from laughing at his attempts at being dismissive— as much as he hates admitting it, you eventually figure out that he doesn't mind your daily visits; an occurence that started out of pure accident, no less.
-
[You recall the first time you barged into his office, out of breath, narrowly escaping Solomon's pure-hearted attempt of making you a surprise lunchbox. You love the sorcerer, you truly do, but you weren't in the mood to have your stomach collapsing onto itself for the next three days. You could only be thankful Simeon gave you a heads up about his plan so you could avoid him during lunch, knowing well enough of your inability to refuse.
"Do me a favor and don't let Solomon know I'm here," he didn't get a chance to retort before you dived to hide behind his chair, just in time as someone started knocking on the office door. With a huff of defeat, he grants the knocker entry— who turned out, to be in fact, the aforementioned sorcerer.
"Mephisto, have you seen my apprentice around? I was meaning to give them homemade lunch, but they ran off right as the bell rang," clearly, the sorcerer was earnest in his actions, but even the demon could feel the malevolent aura emanating from the supposed 'lunch box'.
"No, I have not. I doubt they would come here of their own volition, more especially during break period," he quirked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the almost-vice grip you had on the back of his coat.
"Hm..." Solomon pondered for a second. "That's weird. I thought I saw them run in this direction... I must have been mistaken, then. Thank you anyway, Mephisto!" with that, the clueless sorcerer turned to leave, and it is only when you hear his footsteps fade into the hallways that you breathe a sigh of relief.
Clearing his throat, the demon looks down behind him, and you flash him a bright grin. "I owe you one, Mephisto! You're the best!" you say before quickly wrapping yourself around his back, dashing out of the office before he could say anything in return.
He's relieved you just barely miss the way his face flusters, and the small goofy smile that creeps its way to his face after he double-checks that you're out of periphery.]
-
You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the memory while picking out the book from the shelf Mephisto directed to. It's been a few months since then, and although your visits started off sporadic, it eventually became a daily thing— much to the demon's proclaimed inconvenience. A facade, considering no annoyed demon would start keeping an extra teacup in his office that wasn't Diavalo's spare, which just so happened to be your favorite color. Or the fact that that his record player started having your favorite music on rotation— a complete coincidence!— he exclaimed in defense when you pointed it out one day. Or even the fact that his seating area, which once felt like a completely separate space from his work desk, was slightly rearranged so the sofa just so happened to be in a closer, more comfortable viewing and talking range— not to mention the blanket draped over the backrest which also just so happened to be perfect for midday naps.
"—And what might you laughing about? I doubt a book on botany is hardly a comedic masterpiece," he quips, pulling your attention away from the book.
"Mmm," you shift your angle slightly to look at him better. "Just remembered something funny, is all."
Rolling his eyes, he gets up from his chair to the room's small tea station, where a pair of teacups are set out, a tray of snacks also already conveniently prepared.
"Barbatos gave me this blend the other day, it's supposed to help out with stress. I'm guessing it'll be useful for Lord Diavolo as well."
"Mhm," you nod along, your focus already returned to your botany study.
You hear him mumble an incantation— probably some sort of heat spell to boil water, and it's not long after that he sets your cup on the coffee table, along with a select pick of snacks you usually went for first. You would've teased him about how he knows exactly which ones you go for it if not for the fact that you're fully engrossed with Devildom's botany, making steady progress on your assignment.
"Thanks!" the faint scent of something familiar hits your senses, though you couldn't quite put a name on it. "Mm, this tea is quite fragrant."
"If I recall, it's some sort of human realm fruit essence infused in the blend," he explains, taking a book from one of the shelves, sitting down across from you. "Bergamot, I think it was? I took a little sip earlier, and it's pretty good; although I expect nothing less from Barbatos."
"Ah, that's what it was. I knew it smelt familiar."
He mumbles something incoherently, though you can barely make out the words 'humans' and 'calming effects of familiar scents'. It really is laughable how he still feigns not caring.
"Done with newspaper work already? It's rare for you to take a break at this time of day," holding back a laugh at his ridiculousness, you notice a more faintly lax expression on his face.
"I'm already a bit ahead in progress, so I can afford a small break. On the other hand, I didn't think botany would catch your interest," he points out.
"There’s a lot of cool stuff here! I didn't think I'd enjoy researching it this much. Plants in the human realm just kinda... grow?... with some exceptions, of course," with that, you start listing off the ones you chose for your assignment, particularly enthused about plants often used for traditional and ceremonial practices.
Before long, you managed to finish more than half of your task, all that's left being to actually put it in paper. Tea drank and snacks consumed, you let out a pleased sigh before letting out a yawn and a stretch. Without a word, Mephisto stands to return both your book and his back to the shelf. This time, he pulls out a record from the display and goes to play it, which you instantly recognize as a record you recommended to him some weeks ago. Before you can bring it up, he throws a glare your way, preemptively sensing the teasing that was bound to come out of your mouth. You laugh at him instead, sparing him actual words (for now).
"Fine, fine, I'll shut up and just take a nap. Happy, newspaper boy?"
Groaning at the nickname, he walks over back to his desk. "Do whatever you want. And I already told you to stop calling me that."
"Mmhm," is all you can say, already comfortably in place with the couch blanket draped over yourself, the soft music from the phonograph combined with being filled from the tea and snacks already starting to lull you into deep relaxation. You hear Mephisto grumble something, and you notice his gaze towards you when you turned your head to look at him— one he quickly broke, pretending he wasn't caught.
"Did'ya say something?" your eyelids grow heavy, sleep starting to take over.
"...Nothing. I'll wake you up before your next class."
"I know you will," you mumble before dreaming away.
You're not certain how long you dozed off, but the slight shuffling of an office chair lulled you out of dreamland. Still being sleepy however, your eyes opted to remain closed, hoping to grasp every second of slumber before your afternoon classes. They remained closed when you hear a familiar demon's grumbling noises as he threw another batch of proposal articles in the bin, and they remained close when you sense him quietly walk over to you, his form slowly leaning down over your face. He's so close that you could feel his breath tickle your nose, and you might be hallucinating it, but you think you feel his heart beating a mile a minute.
"Tsk..." you hear him huff out, fingers carefully tucking your hair off your face.
"...I'll never understand why you keep coming back to me," this time, his tone is a lot more soft, you almost didn't recognize it. Half your conscience is telling you to come clean and open your eyes, but you suck it and keep up the act, wanting to see where it goes. You just hope he doesn't notice your own heart beating a mile a minute. You sense him inch closer
"What am I saying..." he whispers to himself.
"...Please keep coming back to me."
In what felt like a blur, you feel the warmth of his lips silently land on the center of your forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds, before you feel him pull away.
Come back, is what you wanted to say, but words have left your throat, and you almost forget you're supposed to be pretending to be asleep.
"...Ugh," he huffs out again, feeling his hair tickle your neck as he lays his head next to yours in exasperation. He snaps out of it in a flash, and you think it slipped his mind that he wasn't supposed to be caught— so much for that anyway, you think. He walks back to his desk, mumbling to himself, and before your mind could start overthinking about what just happened, you slowly sink back into comfort, the last string of thought your mind provided was how much you wanted him to do it again.
You wake up fully this time, by Mephisto snatching the blanket from your sleeping form— keep it up and you'll be late for your last class!, he chastises, and you only groan out a pleading 'five more minutes,' in response.
It's not until a few minutes after you get up that it clicks— that wasn't a dream.
Mephistopheles really kissed you in your sleep.
Sure, it was on your forehead, but now you can't help but continue thinking about it. You thought about it as you waved him goodbye as you left the club room, you thought about it the whole time in class, and you thought about it all the way back to the HoL, where you finally let out a muffled scream as you buried your head in your pillow.
You want him to do it again. You wanted him to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then your—
"Hey, dinner's ready!~" Asmodeus' intrusion cut off your thoughts, but you couldn't even be bothered to care about dinner.
"Hey Asmo?" you ask. The Avatar of Lust perks his brow up in acknowledgment.
"Yes dear?~" it's scary how it's like he can sense what you were thinking...
"...You got any ideas how to get someone to kiss you while awake and not asleep on his couch?"
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Note
Love your writing! An idea, if you like it: villain finds out that their lover is actually their hero nemesis. Villain leverages this in their confrontations by threatening the hero's lover--ie their own secret identity. Basically a villain using their intimate knowledge of their lover to gain an advantage.
Part of them knew it was wrong to enjoy their lover like this - jaw clenched in steely determination, eyes wide and bright with an intoxicating combination of terror and bravery.
That part was drowned out entirely by the bit of them that stepped giddying closer, smoothing their palms down the desperate thump of the hero's chest. The horror of it.
"You think I didn't know?" the villain murmured. "About your little love affair?"
"If you lay so much as a hand on them-"
"-You'll what?"
The hero looked so protective, so willing to do absolutely anything for them. The hero's jaw clenched further; an animal baring of teeth. They took the villain's hands off them and squeezed, hard enough to hurt.
"Perhaps I'll reconsider my policy on murder."
The villain laughed, at that. It wasn't really funny so much as, yet again, giddying. When it was just the two of them alone, their lover was the gentlest person alive. Good and kind and oh so sweet. Seeing the person in front of them...
"Sexy," the villain purred.
The hero shoved them back.
The villain bit on their lip, unable to help it as they considered the hero. "What do you think your love would think of the blood on your hands?"
"If it keeps them safe, it's worth it."
"Oh?"
The hero's gaze raked over them, searching for an open. Futile, really. Their love was not a killer. The villain would never push them to that. Still.
"Alright, alright," the villain pretended at grace, stepping forward again. They scooped the hero's fists in their hands and pressed a half-mocking kiss to their knuckles. "Easy, tiger. We both know I'm more interested in you."
The hero's hands twitched, but they didn't pull away.
"Just stand down and get out of my way and I'll have no reason to hunt them down."
They imagined detailed ransom videos. They wanted to see what the hero looked like when they heard them screaming, praying, begging for mercy. Patience. They could see the hero's fury and their despair and their love most of all.
All the love they struggled to express when it was just the two of them, as if fighting villains was more important.
"I tell you this," the hero said, "and next time you threaten them again, ask for something else."
"Before you think about killing me, please bear in minds that I've put in fail safes should I die. Ruining your love being one of them."
The hero swallowed. They seemed to be trying to decide if that was true or not.
"I know so many of their secrets," the villain confessed, "everything that would ruin their comfortable life with you, every dark and dirty thing that they would hate the world to see. I don't have to hurt them to hurt them, my dearest hero."
"Don't call me that," the hero snapped.
But the villain knew they'd won.
The hero hadn't pulled back and they hadn't lashed out, not physically. They were always fine with a threat to themselves, but this?
The villain almost hadn't thought they could have so much power.
They never wanted to let it go.
But, they never wanted to let the hero go either. They never wanted to wake up one day to a world where someone else had hurt them, when they were already gone.
"Stand down," the villain whispered. "And you can be so very happy."
And, at least for a little while, the hero did.
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radioappleheadcanons · 3 months
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Lucifer does the thing where he'll get angry at Alastor for something he did in a dream. It drives Alastor crazy because Lucifer's way of dealing with it is to ignore him and of course, Alastor hates it. But he has no idea what he's done so he can't figure out how to fix it. When Lucifer does finally snap at him about it, Alastor is ticked off because he is not apologizing in his non-apologizing way for something he didn't do. This just upsets the king more. It goes on for a while before Charlie corners Alastor and explains that for a man whom dreams are such a big part of him, both in that, he's a dreamer and that sometimes dreams aren't just dreams, it is very much so a big deal.
Vaggie, Husk, and Angel are all assigned to make Lucifer understand why Alastor is offended (Charlie made all three of them do it, under Nifty gaze). They are much less enthused and less in-depth but eventually, they manage to convince him that it's because Alastor was offended that he thought the redhead would do that. They end up taking it out and putting it behind them, though occasionally they still have tiffs over it. It's pretty fast to resolve though, because Lucifer will give Alastor the details of the dream and Alastor will assure that it won't happen. Or at least give the situation where he would do it.
This works well, at least until Lucifer finds a recording of Al and Vox singing Stayed Gone, which he takes great offense to because Alastor picking another 'rival' is something the man has assured him won't happen.
So, he was not happy about the fact that Alastor clearly had something going on with this other random demon. The others try to convince him that the TV Overlord isn't a threat, to which he responds that of course, he's not a threat. He's the bloody king sinners can’t be a threat to him. But that doesn't mean he can't be upset that Alastor lied to him. He's very huffy about it, and very snappy when it comes to the radio demon.
Alastor is very annoyed by this and demands to know what he did to earn this treatment. Only he keeps getting told that he should know and that the king refuses to speak with a lair. The others explain what happened and Alastor is horrified that Lucifer thinks he has something going on with Vox of all people. He immediately sets to rectify it. Only the one place where he has enough power to keep Lucifer there is his radio tower, and when Lucifer is trying to leave, they sort of wrestle and start broadcasting.
The Whole of the pride ring hears the radio demon assure someone, who is far away enough from the mic to not be clear or recognizable, but close enough that they know there's someone in the booth with Alastor, that "No I don't have any other rivals and why on earth would you think that?…….. Well yes, I did cut into the song the TV overlord was singing that it wasn't a rivalry thing it was him defending his honor and name! I've never started anything with him, only replied when he was attacked, and even then, it is always the bare minimum, can't so you see how little effort I put into the song?…….. You have nothing to worry about darling, you're the only one I consider to be worthy of being a true rival, please stop being angry and ignoring me……. It's horrible and it's not making you any happier either."
The voice gets a little clearer as Lucifer gets closer to the mic, to Alastor, and farther away from the door. It's then that he notices the on-air light and points it out. Alastor cusses, a first for many to hear, and ends it. The whole pride ring is in uproar trying to figure out who was in his booth with him. Vox meanwhile is fuming because excuse me? What do you mean we're not rivals? If anyone isn't a rival it's whoever this interloper is!
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missrosegold · 4 months
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I've got a blood trail red in the blue
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Synopsis: Vampire!AU You moved to the quiet, costal town to escape from your ex, only to find yourself entangled with a man with fiery blue eyes, and a grin that’s slightly too sharp.
He may or may not be an immortal gang leader to a bunch of other blood-sucking degenerates, but you’ll worry about that later.
Word count: 20k
Pairing: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)
Warnings: Mentions of murder, Blood and gore, Smut, Mentioned past toxic relationships, Smoking, Smut and additional warnings listed below so Minors or Ageless blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+
Playlist: Take Me To The Sun - D4VD + The Summoning (the ending. if you know, you know) - Sleep Token
For @kimkaelyn Thank you for all of the encouragement you’ve shown me when I needed it most – this one’s for you. Also, thank you for making this beautiful banner for me!! It looks so good!!
Title is from The Summoning by Sleep Token
Inspired by The Lost boys
Happy Birthday Dabi - I'm so pleased I was able to finish this for his birthday. He deserves all good things.
**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works to my A03 account!
Tagging: @vambirezz @dabisqueen @little-red-insomniac @sunaraii @touyasprettydoll @touyas-back-lover @cloudsz04 @faetheral @impulsivethoughtsat2am @whitemochabunnie
You sigh loudly as you move the last box of your things into your new bedroom.
Dusting off your hands, you stand up and look around the small room, giving it an approving once over, before heading out into the living room to continue putting the rest of your things away in your new apartment.
Opting to take a quick break, you crack open the sliding glass doors leading out onto your small patio and step outside into the evening air. Closing your eyes, you breathe in the balmy, salt laced air, as a cool breeze combs through your hair, sending pleasant chills down your spine. You stay like that for a moment, before the sound of seagulls cawing overhead draws your attention to the surrounding view.
The sight of the small costal town spread out before your balcony greets you, as you look outward. You’d just moved to the town of Ashikita a few days ago, leaving your life in the busy city of Tokyo behind you. You scowl even thinking about the place.
You’d loved your life in Tokyo. It was the person you shared your life with there you’d hated.
You purse your lips as your thoughts trail back to your ex-boyfriend, despite your best efforts. He was the sole reason you’d moved all the way out to this small town in the first place. Your relationship had been on a downwards spiral for a while, and had gradually become unhealthier the longer you’d stayed with him. He had become progressively more controlling and manipulative whenever you’d tried to leave your shared apartment for anything else aside for work, and his behavior had only become worse by the day.
Eventually, things came to a boiling point when he decided to try and lock you in the bathroom when you’d told him that you were going out to see a friend, and that had been your breaking point. You had packed your things up when he’d left to go to work, and that had been that. You had taken up residence at your parent’s place for a few months while you’d searched for a new apartment and a new job, far away from your ex’s grasp, all the while dodging his incessant calling, before blocking him all together.
You had settled in Ashikita, a small costal town in Kyushu, known for its attractive beaches and coastlines. It was also quiet during the off season, deeming it the perfect place for someone who was trying to escape from the city.
Perfect for someone who didn’t wish to be found.
You allow your gaze to sweep through the sights spread out below your balcony. Your apartment was located near the coastline, and had a nice view of the nearby beach and wooden boardwalk that wrapped around it, much to your inner delight. The twinkling of lights from the few carnival rides you can see on the old wooden platform catches your attention, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you recall old childhood memories of when your parents used to take you to the small country fair that used to come by your hometown in the summer.
You sigh as the multicolored lights gradually become brighter as the sun slowly sinks behind the watery horizon in the distance. Glancing back into your dark apartment, you decided to go down to check out the boardwalk after night falls – not wanting to spend more time in your lonely apartment then necessary.
You slowly slink back inside, and force yourself to continue to unpacking as the outside becomes darker. Once your apartment looks somewhat like your own space, you quickly change into something a little warmer to explore the boardwalk, before making your way out of your apartment.
The boardwalk, as you discover, is only a ten-minute walk away from your building, and you use the time to lightly explore the surrounding area as you make your way towards the beach. The distant crashing of the ocean waves against the shore makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest, and the sounds of the boardwalk rides echoes through the air around you, only adding to your growing excitement.
You make your way onto the old wooden boardwalk and look around at the rides and other various vendors set up on both sides of the platform. You slowly make your way around the brightly lit area with the crowds of other people taking in the sights and sounds like you, before a gentle musical chime accompanied by soft twinkling lights in the coroner of your eye catches your attention.
Turning to your left, you gasp in delight as you find yourself looking at a vintage merry go round. It’s old, older than you by probably several decades, but it’s no less charming than it would’ve been when it was brand new. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on one, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you’re in the short line to buy a ticket.
The teen running the ride looks entirely uninterested as he takes your money before passing you a ticket and waving you on. You slowly make your way around the merry go round, taking in all of the old wooden animals – most of their paint old and dull – before settling on a sleek black horse wearing a blue saddle and bridle.
Not long after choosing your mount, the voice of the teen operating the ride crackles to life over the loud speaker and announces the ride was starting, before the squealing of gears and the hum of hidden electronics signals the start of the ride. You grip the pole as your horse slowly moves up and down, giggling in spite of yourself.
The world spins around you slowly and you lose yourself in the tinny sounds of music blaring out of the ancient speakers scattered around the ride. As you glance out at the boardwalk outside of the merry go round, something catches your attention.
No, not something, someone.
You catch a fleeting glimpse of a tall man dressed in various shades of dark blue and black, standing just outside of the fence blocking off the ride. You have to wait for the ride to do another full circle before you see him again, this time in clearer detail.
He’s standing still as a statue, allowing you to get a better look at him as you come around once again. He’s imposing looking, with his dark attire, save for a white shirt draped loosely around his gangly frame. He’s wearing a long dark blue duster and stitched pants, tucked into black combat boots – a strange choice of clothing considering the warm weather. He’s tall and lean, but you can tell he’s well-built underneath the loose clothes he wears; but his unique choice of clothing isn’t what draws your attention to him.
He is without a doubt, one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.
His spiky black hair is as dark as night, and his skin is pale and flawless, drawing attention to his high cheekbones but you notice a slight roundness to his cheeks, giving a gentle softness to his otherwise edgy features.
As you pass him once more, you lock eyes with the intriguing stranger and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are as blue as the surrounding ocean. You don’t think you’ve ever seen any one with eyes that particular shade of blue before.
As you slowly pass him again, he smirks at you, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest involuntarily.
The crackling sounds from the old loudspeakers snap you out of your trance as the teen from before announces the ride was over, and to leave at the nearest exit point. You slide off your horse and make your way to the exit, speed walking back to where you first saw the dark-haired man, only to find he’d seemingly vanished.
You look around the area, confused as to how he could’ve disappeared so fast, only to hear deep laughter echoing a little further down the boardwalk. You turn in the direction of the laughter, only to see the dark-haired man standing in the middle of a group of four other men.
They’re an interesting looking group if you’ve ever seen one: a silvery, white-haired man with vibrant red eyes is standing next to your handsome stranger, snickering at something he said, drawing your attention to the odd amount of scarring under his eyes and around his mouth. Beside him, a man with what you can only assume is box-dyed pink hair, dressed in a black hoodie is leaning slightly on him, listening intently to what he’s saying. On the other side of the ravenette; a taller, slightly older looking blonde-haired man with a long scar running down his forehead, is smoking a cigarette, and beside him, a well-dressed brunette who looked to be about the same age as his scarred companion, is fixing his tie, smiling and nodding with whatever was being discussed.
You smile to yourself as you take in the group. As much as you would’ve liked to talk to the dark-haired man, you didn’t want to interrupt his time with his friends. You turn around, ready to make your leave, only to feel a sudden weight draped around your shoulders. Startled, you whirl around only to find yourself staring up into the deep blue eyes of handsome stranger from before.
Now that he’s up close and personal, you find yourself unable to look away from the unique blue of his eyes. There’s something about them that has you completely entranced, and suddenly, the rest of your surroundings seem to fade away until it’s just you and him. You’re stuck in his orbit and he’s pulling you in simply by looking at you, pinning you in place where you stand. The stranger suddenly blinks, and just like that; he releases you from whatever hold he had you in, abruptly snapping you back to reality.
You don’t even have time to wonder how the hell he was able to catch up to you so fast, before you feel your throat dry up and close up involuntarily as he shoots you a dark smirk.
“’Sup sweetheart?”
His deep voice startles you. It’s smooth, with a slight rasp to it, sounding like he’d smoked recently. He’s warm as well – it’s almost shocking how hot he is, as you feel the heat from his body leaching into your side through the barrier your clothes provide.
You struggle to come up with a response to his greeting, and you can tell by the way his grin grows slightly, he enjoys the effect he has on you. He squeezes your shoulders again, almost teasingly.
“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me now? I saw you checking me out on the merry go round. Thought you wanted to say hello.”
“You saw that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, fighting to keep the flush you feel creeping up your neck under control, as the man throws his head back and laughs, allowing you to catch sight of clean white teeth that seemed slightly sharper than the average person’s.
“Yeah, I saw. Gotta say, I’m flattered. Haven’t seen a cute thing like you around here for a while. You new here?”
“I… Yeah.” You finally manage to sputter out, “I just moved here.” causing him to grin again.
“Yeah? Where are you from?”
“Tokyo. I got a new job down here. It’s a lot different than the city. Nice though.”
The dark-haired man nodded. “I bet. Why did you move here? This isn’t exactly a major city. I’m surprised you’d want to come here of all places.”
You freeze. Memories of your ex come flooding back, and you chew on your lip as you struggle to figure out what to tell the handsome man. You didn’t want to divulge your shitty dating history to a total stranger, when you yourself were trying to move on. Thankfully, the longer you remain silent, the more the grin seemed to slide off his lips, seemingly understanding what you were thinking, without you having to say a word.
“Someone there made you want to leave?”
You nod soundlessly, causing the man to kiss the back of his teeth.
“Well, that’s a shame. Dunno who the jackass is who made you feel the need to come to a remote shithole like this, but fuck ‘em.”
His brunt comment makes you snort in spite of yourself. You turn in his hold so you’re facing him more directly, offering him a half smile. “I don’t even know your name. What is it?”
The man grins salaciously at you as he stoops down to your level. “Dabi. And you, gorgeous?”
You know there’s not a chance in hell that’s his real name, but you decide not to press him on it. Maybe you’ll ask him about it later, if you ever run into him again.
You tell him your name, and he straightens back up, rolling your name off his tongue, causing you to flush gently under the intensity of his piercing blue gaze, He jerks his thumb back at the group of young men behind him. “The guys and I were just hanging around the boardwalk. Wanna walk with me pretty girl?”
You look over his shoulder to see the other four men staring you down intently. There something about the way they’re looking at you that makes you uneasy, but you can’t place what about it makes you uncomfortable. Instead, you smile up at him and shake your head.
“That’s okay, I don’t want to interrupt your time with your friends. I just wanted to explore a little bit. I’m still unpacking my apartment, so I should probably get back to doing that.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.” Dabi sends you another grin, teeth glinting like knives in the carnival lights. “I’m sure you’d be better company then those jokers always.”
“I’m good.” You tell him, gently removing his arm from around your shoulders, watching as his smirk falls slightly at your gesture. “Maybe next time, if you’re around.”
“My boys and I live close to the area. I’m sure we’ll meet up at some point.” Dabi takes a step back from you, shoving his hands into his pockets, and sends you another smoldering grin that makes your heart speed up to dangerous levels.
“See you later sweetheart.”
“Bye.” You tell him with a timid wave, watching as he sends you a knowing wink, before turning on his heel and making his way back to his friends, who are already at his throat.
“What the hell was that, Dabi? Thought you were going to bring her back for sure.”
“Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t take her out. You always manage to pull—”
“Shut the hell up you psychos.”
Your roll your eyes as at their conversation as you shift your purse on your shoulder and walk in the opposite direction, away from the interesting group and back towards your apartment. The sound of the roaring ocean overtakes the sounds of the boardwalk as you make the trek back to your apartment alone.
You wake up the next morning to the sound of your phone alarm going off.
You get up with a groan, and slowly begin your morning routine. You shuffle around your apartment as you get ready to start your new office job. You pack your lunch with what meager items you have in your fridge, before heading downstairs to where your car is parked. Hopping in, you quickly plug the coordinates into your car’s nav system, and make the twenty-minute drive to your new office.
 It’s small building, and your job is an entrée level position, but it pays decently well and is still more than enough to cover your living expenses – it’s part of the reason you took the job in the first place, since you’ll have to pay the entirety of your rent by yourself now.
Still, you’d much rather struggle by yourself then crawl back to your ex.
You day is uneventful, and you spend the majority of your day filling out new employee paperwork and getting to know the rest of your new colleagues. They’re nice and seemingly keep mostly to themselves, something you’re not used to after working in Tokyo for the last several years.
Still though, you can’t complain. Honestly, you think it might be good to keep your head down for a while as you get settled in. There’d be plenty of time to get to know the rest of your new coworkers later.
Your day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re pulling into your parking space at your apartment building. Soon enough, you find yourself shutting the door to your apartment with a sigh as you kick your shoes off, before heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.
As you make your way back out into your small living room, you’re hit with how bland your new apartment looks in comparison to your old one, and suddenly you don’t want to be in your tiny apartment. You glance out the living room window that’s pointed towards the beach and you know where you want to go.
Grabbing your keys, you find yourself making the short walk to the beach as the sun sinks lower in the sky, casting golden reflections on the water’s choppy service. You spend an hour on the beach, relaxing and breathing in the salty air, before getting up and making your way over to the boardwalk where several food vendors are setting up.
After paying for some cotton candy, you walk around the darkening boardwalk, nibbling mindlessly on your food as you explore several areas you hadn’t been able to look at the night before. As the numerous strings of fairy lights decorating the rides gradually get brighter as the sky grows darker, you decide you head back to your apartment before it get’s too late.
Before you can turn around to make your way back to your home, you feel a presence behind you and a sudden heat washes over you.
“Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon sweetheart.”
You whirl around at the familiar voice, only to see the dark-haired man from the night before standing behind you with a sharp grin. You note he’s wearing the same clothes from the night before, but he’s switched out his long duster for a shorter leather jacket with a ripped collar, adding to his intrigue.
“Oh hey! Dabi, right?” you ask him, prompting him to nod with a wicked smirk.
“Sounds nice, coming from you.”
You roll your eyes at his flirtatious comment, instead asking what you wanted to ask him last night. “That’s not your real name, is it?”
Dabi’s smirk only grows wider at your question, his bright blue eyes seemingly growing brighter. “No.”
“You ever going to tell me what it is?”
The dark-haired man clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe later, if you stick around long enough.”
You shrug, not seeing any point in pushing it further. “Do you live around here?”
Dabi nods after a moment. “Yeah, I rent a place near here with a few guys. They’re tolerable.”
“Oh, your friends from last night?” you ask, thinking back to the group of men with him last night. You can’t help but grin as the man’s handsome face twists into a grimace at your comment.
“Wouldn’t go as far as to call them my friends, but we’ll go with that.” His dry response causes you to laugh.
“So, you’re more of a lone wolf, huh?”
Dabi snorts, the hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Absolutely. Up until those idiots wormed their way into my life years ago, I was fine with being on my own.”
You laugh at his comment before asking: “Have you lived here long?”
At your question, Dabi seems to pause. You watch as he chews on his bottom lip before carefully responding.
“I’ve been here a while, yeah.”
You nod, “Well, it seems nice here from what I’ve seen so far. It’s a lot different from Tokyo, but in a good way, I think.”
Dabi snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks away from you. “If you’re saying that, then you clearly don’t know what actually goes on around here.”
You frown at his cryptic reply, not sure how to feel about what he’s telling you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dabi only gestures for you to follow him, and you do without much resistance. He ends up taking you further down the boardwalk to a spot you hadn’t yet been to, and stops in front of a large bulletin board plastered with several layers of white filers.
He taps the board. “Welcome to the missing person’s capitol of Japan.” He tells you flatly, allowing you to get a closer look at the papers rustling in the breeze. 
You feel your heart sink into your stomach as you take in the layers upon layers of printed paper faces and their basic information printed out under them. From what you can see, some of the missing person fliers are months old, and others are as recent as a week ago. The missing people seem to be of every age and ethnicity, but the number of people plastered on the bulletin board is shocking.  
You turn to Dabi, flabbergasted. “What the hell is this?”
Dabi shrugs nonchalantly. “An open secret.”
“I checked out the area before I moved here. All the websites I looked at painted this place as quiet and safe. I never saw anything like this.” You protested, causing the dark-haired man to nod.
“That’s because the authorities do whatever they can to cover it up. This has been going on for a long time. Years, honestly. These are the most recent ones.”
“The most recent?!”
“Like I said, years, babe. Didn’t you ever wonder why the rent around here was so cheap?”
“I—well, I mean, yeah, but—” You run a hand through your hair nervously. “I came here to escape from the chaos – not get involved in a different kind.”
Dabi pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and puts one in his mouth, but doesn’t light it, instead opting to nudge your shoulder gently. “You’ll be fine during the day. No one’s going to steal you away sweetheart. It’s night time you have to be worried about. Just keep your head down and don’t go looking for trouble, you’ll be fine.”
You hum in response, but you must not look very convinced, because he sighs around his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth and flicking it into a nearby trashcan. “Tell you what; how about I walk you back to your building. Will that make you feel better?”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you—”
“You’re not.” Dabi interrupts you as he brushes past you gently, his abnormally warm fingers ghost the skin of your arm as he passes you. “Come on. I’ll take you back home. Can’t have someone snatching you away now, can we?”
He winks at you, laughing lightly as your face flushes against your will, yet you find yourself tailing after him, leading him back to your apartment. Normally you’d be very against allowing a near perfect stranger to know where you live, but the news of the missing people has shaken you more then you’d like to admit, and right now having some extra company doesn’t seem like a bad idea.
You walk slowly back to your apartment side by side with him, and in that time, you end up talking about anything and everything. Conversation seems to come naturally with him, and your guard slowly drops. The more you talk to him, the more he seems to loosen up in turn, though he keeps a polite distance when you try and find out more about him, instead, re-directing the conversation back to you.
“So, you never told me why you left Tokyo.” he drawls, heavily lidded eyes finding your own. “This isn’t exactly near there. I’m just trying to understand why you’d wanna leave your family behind to come here. You don’t strike me as the type who likes being alone for long periods of time.”
You stop short and mull over his question in your head. As much as you didn’t want to get into it, the raven-haired man was the closest thing you had to a friend here, and if you continued talking to him as you were, the question was bound to come up eventually. Instead, you exhale loudly through your nose before answering.
“Your original guess wasn’t far off.” You admit quietly, watching as his dark brows rise slightly at your subdued response.
You elaborate. “I left Tokyo to escape from my ex. The relationship had been bad for a while, and I should’ve left sooner then I did, but it was really hard. He was so possessive at the end, I felt like I was suffocating. It never got physical between us, but it probably would’ve if I stayed longer.”
You look up at your companion, only to see that his normally bright eyes are dark, and there’s a prominent tick in his jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. Dabi catches you staring at him, and sighs.
“Does he know where you are?” You shake your head.
“Not that I know of. I didn’t tell many people I was moving here aside from my parents. Most of my friends know I moved, but don’t know where to. I wanted to keep it quiet since he’s still trying to find ways to contact me. I don’t want him knowing where I am.”
Dabi hums in agreement as you approach your building. “So, you don’t have any friends out here, huh?”
You shake your head as you approach the main entrance. “I’m all by myself.”
You both stop a few feet from the door, and to your surprise (and relief), Dabi makes no move to invite himself in. You were worried he’d insist on walking you to your actual apartment, and as handsome as he was; you weren’t sure you wanted him knowing what apartment was yours… yet.
You’re just about to bid him goodnight before he suddenly speaks up, catching you off guard.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“No plans as far as I know. Just working during the day. I should be free past six. Why?” You sputter, not expecting him to ask.
Dabi shrugs, sending you a relaxed grin, and once again you note how his teeth are oddly sharp. “It’s Friday night. If you’re not busy and you want to make some new friends, the guys I room with are having a night in. If you want to join, you can. Our place isn’t far from here.”
You’re slightly shocked at his offer. He doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys more people hanging around him then necessary, but then again, you’ve been wrong about people before, and now that he’s offered, he’s right: you don’t have any friends out here, and you are becoming lonely. Maybe meeting some new people wouldn’t be a terrible thing.
Before you can think about it any longer, you hear yourself agreeing. “Sure, that sounds great.”
Dabi smirks at you, broadcasting his pearly canines. “Excellent. I’ll let them know you’re coming. I’ll come pick you up back here when the sun drops. My place is about twenty minutes by car.”
You nod with a small smile. “That sounds good. Thanks again for walking me back Dabi.”
He only waves you off. “It’s nothing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, bye.” You tell him as you open the door to your building, watching as he shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets and heads back in the direction of the boardwalk without another word. You watch him leave until he’s all but swallowed up by the surrounding darkness, before smiling to yourself and heading inside.
Dabi sinks his fangs into the man’s neck faster than he can scream for help. He holds him locked in a death embrace until the man’s frantic thrashing grows weaker, before completely stilling as his body grows limp in his hold.
It’s only when the man’s colour pallet has gone a deathly white does Dabi finally release his grip on the man, letting him collapse onto the sandy ground underneath the boardwalk. He wipes his bloodied mouth on the back of his sleeve with a grimace as he stares down at his victim.
Sour. Too sour for his liking. Clearly the man wasn’t in the best health before he got his hands on him, but beggers couldn’t be choosers, and he was hungry.
That’s the biggest downside to being what he is: the insatiable thirst for blood couldn’t be ignored for long. He would know. He’s tried to fight against his unsavory appetite in the past, but the end results are always the same, and he not about to starve just so a few lost souls could be spared. He’s no saint – in fact, he’s damn near the opposite of one.
Vampire.
The title is branded into him, even if only he can see it. He has to feed regularly in order to keep his more monstrous tendencies at bay, but he can go a few days without a meal. Any longer than that, and the real him becomes visible to all. The last thing he needs is anyone finding out what he really is.
Dabi feels his fangs slowly retract into his gums as he cooly observes his latest kill. It wasn’t anything personal, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. Just like the rest of his victims, he prefers not to know anything about them – it makes draining their blood harder later on. The body laying before him was just some random man he’d seen wandering the boardwalk by himself half drunk, making him an ideal target. It was all too easy to lure the man to a more secluded spot before jumping him, but he’s had years of practice perfecting his craft. He’s done it so many times he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore.
The missing person board can confirm that much.
Once he’s certain most of the evidence has been cleaned from his face, he snaps his fingers, and the corpse before him suddenly bursts into bright blue flames – consuming the unnamed man until there’s nothing left of him except for a pile of blackened ash, and the horrid smell of burnt meat. 
Dabi sighs as he turns away from the remains and slowly trudges out from the wooden underbelly of the boardwalk above him, kicking at sand carelessly as his thoughts drift back to you.
You smell so good. Your blood practically sings to him. Walking you back to your apartment had been a challenge to him, as he had to fight every urge screaming at him to whisk you away and drain you dry, just like he’s planned to when he’d first laid eyes on you. But the more he talked to you, and the more you’d let him in on certain parts of your life, the less he wanted to do so.
You were… different. You stuck out from the other humans he’s forced to be around. You were sweet, if a bit withdrawn, but it added to your appeal. Your personality was refreshing, and it made him want to keep you around, and figure out just who you really are.
It helped that he found you to be rather… pretty, to say the least.
He wouldn’t bother trying to deny you were a good-looking girl. He’d seen the way you’d looked at him on the merry go round, and if that meant anything, then you found him to be just as attractive.
Well… at least you found his current face to be handsome. He’s not sure how you’d react to his real face, but he’d cross that bridge if and when he came to it.
He feels the corners of his lips upturn at the thought. Now the real test would be if you could handle him and his boys.
The next day is uneventful. You continue your training at the office, and slowly get to know some your co-workers past a first name basis. You finish up your work load at the end of the day and bid your co-workers good-bye, before making your way back home.
The sun is just starting to dip down in the sky by the time you get back into your apartment. You toss your keys onto your tiny kitchen table, taking a seat and scrolling through your phone mindlessly.
You respond to a few texts from your friends who know where you moved to, letting them know that you’re doing okay, and how you were going to meet with some of the locals later, before one of your friends texts out something that sends a chill down your spine.
Your ex had reached out to them asking them where you went.
Your friend assures you they didn’t tell him anything before you can ask, but you still feel a heavy weight building in your stomach. You end up putting your phone down after promising you’ll text them later, before getting up and moving into the living room, breathing heavily as you fight to control your nerves.
The sun has just sunk behind the horizon as you peer out your window, only to balk as you see a sleek black car parked beside yours in the parking lot, and a familiar man lounging on the hood, smoking a cigarette.
You swear to yourself as you grab your room key and bolt out of your apartment and down the staircase to the main floor. You make your way out into the parking lot, waving at the dark-haired man, who straightens up upon seeing you.
“Hey.” Dabi rasps, tossing down his cigarette and stomping it out.
“Hi.” You tell him with a slight smile. “I didn’t expect you to come by so soon.”
“I told you when the sun sinks.” The blue-eyed man retorts, but there’s no venom behind it. “You ready?”
“Let me get changed first.” You tell him, gesturing down to your work clothes. “You can come in and wait in my apartment if you want. I’d feel bad if I left you out here.”
Dabi looks hesitant at first, but he nods and follows you stiffly towards the entrance of your building. You wave him through, and he passes you with a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, before following you up the stairs to your front door. You open it and step in, expecting him to follow you, but he doesn’t. You shoot him a questioning look, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, giving you a tiny smirk.
“Gonna invite me in doll?”
“Oh, sorry, you can come in.” You laugh, and that seems to be the invitation he was waiting for, since he glides through your doorframe easily, shutting it behind him.
You can’t help by notice how glaringly out of place he seems in your minimalist apartment. He sticks out against the light colours like a sore thumb, and you have to bite back a giggle as you watch him take a seat on your small living room couch.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” you ask him as you make your way towards your room. Dabi only shakes his head as he leans back into your sofa.
“I’m good doll, thanks.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in just a second.” You tell him as you dip into your room, shutting your door behind you. You quickly throw on some casual but nice clothes and run a brush through your hair in an attempt to rid yourself of the tangles. You don’t know what kind of night you were in for with a bunch of men who looked to be in various stages of their twenties and early thirties, but you still wanted to look presentable. The last thing you wanted was to be accused that you were trying too hard, or turning Dabi’s invitation into something it wasn’t.
Once your satisfied with how you look, you make your way into your living room where Dabi is waiting for you. You don’t miss how he eyes you up and down as he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Ready?”
“All set.” You confirm, watching as his fiery blue eyes seem to light up as he grins at you. Twirling his car keys on his finger.
“I’ll drive.”
You follow him downstairs to his car, and surprisingly, he holds the door open for you. You slide into his passenger seat with a stammered thank you, allowing him to close the door behind you and get into the driver’s side, starting the car with a low roar. He puts the car in gear and pulls out of the apartment complex, before turning onto the road that leads back towards the beach, chatting you up all the while.
Your nerves about meeting the rest of his roommates slowly fade away as he assures you that his roommates where alright (even though he claimed they were still annoying), and while some of them were quieter than others, they meant well.
He steers the car past the boardwalk, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. Dabi catches your look and chuckles. “I rent a house on the other side of town with a few guys. It’s more secluded.”
You nod as you watch the multi-coloured lights from the rides pass you by as Dabi continues on down the road. You learn very quickly he wasn’t kidding about his house being secluded, as he pulls off the main road and onto a dirt path leading into the trees that line the left side of the road. You can’t help but inwardly sweat at the change of scenery, but the passive look on Dabi’s face doesn’t change as he focuses on the road.
“You plan on murdering me or something?” You half joke, only for him to snicker.
“Naw doll, not tonight. You’re too pretty for that.”
He must see how flushed your face is reflected in the mirror, because he laughs openly at you and reaches over to squeeze your knee with a hot hand
“Kidding. Relax, we’re here. Probably should’ve told you I live in the middle of nowhere.” He chuckles as he pulls into an old driveway and puts the car in park. “Welcome to my house.”
You find yourself looking at a large traditional-styled home that looks like nothing’s been done to it since the turn of the past century. There’s moss and dead leaves littering the roof and front yard, and some of the white paint on the front of the house is cracked and pealing. If you had stumbled across the house on your own, you would’ve thought it was abandoned – if not for the two other cars parked on the other side of the driveway, signaling the house was inhabited.
Dabi must see your apprehensive look as he gets out to open your door again despite your protests. “I know, it looks like a bit of a dump.” He admits as he jerks a thumb towards the house. “That’s what happens when you have five guys who all work nights living under one roof. Rents cheap though. It’s why we’ve been here for so long.”
“You all work nights?” you ask as Dabi leads you towards the front door. He hums in agreement as he opens the door, exposing a dark inside interior.
The more you think about it, the more it makes since. You’ve never encountered him during the day, and every time you’ve run into him it was always near the boardwalk.
“What is it that you do?” you ask him as he flicks on a light near the door, illuminating an old mudroom and part of a dark hall. He shuts the door behind you as he kicks off his shoes, prompting you to do the same.
“I work near the docks.” He tells you vaguely as he gestures for you to follow him further into the house. “I do some operational work. Shipping and receiving. All that boring shit. It’s not very exciting.”
“What do the rest of your roommates do?” you ask him as he takes you towards a closed off room near the back of the house. You can hear different voices echoing behind the door as well as what sounds like a TV playing in the background. Dabi only shakes his head at you as he opens the door, exposing the room inside.
“You can ask them yourself.”
You step inside and are greeted to the sight of the four men from the boardwalk lounging around a large flatscreen TV. The man with the pink dye job and silver haired man with the odd scarring on his face are huddled around the screen playing a fighting game, while the two older looking gentlemen are sitting on the worn leather couch behind them, providing commentary. The blonde one with the scar running down the front of his face is smoking another cigarette, while the brunette dressed in well-tailored clothes is sitting on the other side of the couch, away from the smoke.
The pink haired man lets out huff of annoyance as his on-screen character dies. He turns around, only to freeze as he locks eyes with you.
“Oh shit.” He breathes, “She came.”
His comment causes the other men to turn around and stare at you, their facial relations ranging from a mixture of surprise to slight distrust. You don’t know why some of them are looking at you with slightly guarded expressions, but you don’t get to dwell on it for long, as Dabi comes in behind you and lightly drapes an arm across your shoulders.
“These are the guys.” He announces, nodding at each of them in turn. “The two idiots on the floor are Tomera and Iguchi. That’s Jin,” he nods to the blonde who breaks out into a grin, waving at you. “—and last but not least is Atsuhiro.” The aforementioned man stands up to greet you, giving you a polite handshake.
“I apologize for the mess.” He tells you, gesturing around the crowed room. “We seldom get guests. We weren’t sure if you were actually going to come.”
“That’s alright. I didn’t notice.” You tell him as Dabi steers you towards an empty couch to the side of the one Jin and Atsuhiro are sitting on. You notice he keeps his hand on your frame as you sit down with him, and he doesn’t remove it afterwards, almost as if he’s guarding you. It’s not uncomfortable, but you notice the same uneasy feeling you had when you first met him and his motley crew is back. There’s something about them that unnerves you, but for the life of you, you can’t place what it is.
They seem alright at first glance though. Tomura and Iguchi resume their game, but make a point to talk to you while they play, as Jin and Atsuhrio engage you in conversation, all the while Dabi observes you, not really adding anything to the conversations, and seems content just listening to you talk to his roommates.
You find out that Tomura and Iguchi are streamers – their online tags being Shigaraki and Spinner respectively – while Atsuhrio works as a street performer using the stage name Mr. Compress. Meanwhile Jin (who insists you call him Twice, for reasons he doesn’t get into), does deliveries around town during the evening, on top of working with Dabi at the docks when it’s slow, but has the night off tonight.
As you slowly start to relax, the conversations gradually become easier until you’re questioning why you felt so uneasy in the first place; that is, until Tomera makes an off-handed comment to you.
“M’surprised he brought you back here.” He jerks a thumb back at Dabi, not looking up from his game. “Most girls don’t last that long with him—”
“Tenko,” Dabi seethes out through gritted teeth beside you. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”
“Don’t call me by that name.” The red eyed man snaps suddenly, pausing the game to glare at the man beside you. “That name is dead, and you know I’m right.”
“Don’t be an ass.” Dabi snarls back as he pulls you towards him. “I told you to behave tonight while she’s over.”
“Fuck you, you’re not my father.”
“No, but I can torch your ass—”
“Alright, maybe we shouldn’t have this fight in front of her.” Iguchi suddenly speaks up, cutting them both off. “I don’t know about you guys, but I like her, and I want her to come back.”
“Thank you, Iguchi, I like you too.” You tell him sweetly, causing the tips of his ears to pinken, as he mumbles something intelligible under his breath and turns back towards the TV. Tomura rolls his eyes and resumes the game. Jin only chuckles as he turns towards you.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Jin tells you with a genuine smile. “Himiko’s going to love you.”
You shoot Dabi a questioning look, but he only rolls his eyes. “You’ll meet her shortly.”
“Her? But I thought only you guys lived here—”
Before you can get another word out, the distant slam of a door, accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing towards the room interrupts you. As the light footsteps grow closer, you feel Dabi tense up beside you, as he leans over to whisper something to Atsuhiro that sounds suspiciously along the lines of, “I swear, if she’s just getting back in from one of her nightly rampages, we’re going to have a problem-“ Before a blonde girl who looked to be no older then eighteen, with two hair buns on either side of her head, bursts into the room with an almost manic grin on her face.
“Guys, you would not believe what I smelled coming back up here.” She cackles. “I think there’s a—” she cuts herself off as her abnormally golden eyes find yours. Before you can blink, she’s tossed herself over the couch that Jin and Atsuhrio are sitting on and plops herself down right in front of you.
“Hi! You’re really pretty! I’m Himiko Toga! Who are you?” she questions you with a smile that’s almost too wide for her face. You introduce yourself with a breathless laugh at her animated introduction, only to hear what sounds like a rumble coming from Dabi.
You turn to him only to see his insanely blue eyes are locked on the girl sitting in front of you and realize that he is, in fact growling at her.
“Back off Toga.” He warns her, but she ignores him.
“God I’m so happy another girl is here – I’m stuck here with these smelly boys every day and it get so boring! Do you know that you smell really, really good by the way—”
“Okay, enough.” Dabi hisses through gritted teeth. “Jesus, you don’t need to come onto her that fucking strong.”
Himiko gapes at him in mock shock. “Oh, come on. I could smell her all the way from outside the front door. You know she smells good. We all know!” She points around the room, but for some reason none of the other men meet her eye. In fact, they seem to be trying incredibly hard not to acknowledge what she’s saying.
Odd. You don’t remember putting on any perfume before you left.
“Thanks… I guess.” You tell her, unsure of what to say in response. Before the younger girl can respond, Dabi swiftly interrupts her.
“It’s not a bad thing. This psycho just doesn’t know how to give a compliment like a normal fucking person.” He shoots her a pointed look, but he’s not snarling at her anymore. Himiko seems to get the point, and sticks her tongue out at him, settling into the space between Jin and Atsuhrio, chatting excitedly with the older blonde, while occasionally sneaking glances at you.
The earlier tension fades away and you spend the next couple of hours with the odd group, chatting with each of them. Some of them have more to say then others such as Jin and Himiko, while Tomura and Iguchi are more on the quiet side, but still pleasant to talk to none the less. Dabi remains quiet for the most part next to you, never saying much, but you can tell he’s pleased with how you interact with his roommates.
Still, even as you grow more comfortable around them, there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something is off about them. You have no proof to back up your unease though, so you try your best to ignore it, and focus on having a good time. After all, the seemingly mismatched group was the closest thing you had to actual friends here, and made you realize how badly you missed your group of friends back home.  
You quickly end up losing track of time, and it’s only when Dabi checks his phone besides you, and muffles a curse under his breath, do you realize how late it is.
“Shit, it’s already five, I gotta take you home, sun will be up soon.” He mutters as he stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept.
“Gotta keep up your sleep schedule?” you ask, hearing Tomura snort in the background at your comment. Dabi only nods as he heads towards the door.
“Something like that.”
You wave at the rest of the group. “It was really nice meeting you all.” You tell them sincerely. “Hopefully we can do this again sometime.”
“Come back anytime!” Himiko chirps, waving at you enthusiastically. “You better bring her back!” she crows at Dabi’s retreating from, and he waves at her without turning back around.
He leads you towards the front of the house where your shoes are, before walking out into the dewy morning air towards his car. Once again, he holds your door open for you, ignoring your protests, before getting in himself and starting the car, pulling out of the old driveway, and heading back down the dirt path towards the main road.
The sun is just starting to peak out from the horizon, painting the coastline in soft pinks and purples as Dabi steers the car past the old boardwalk, before you finally ask the question that had been on your mind for the last couple of hours.
“So, what’s the deal with Himiko?”
The dark-haired man only grunts. “You mean why is she so unhinged? Beats the hell outta me princess. “
“No, not that.” You wave him off, smacking his shoulder playfully at the nickname as he sends you a shit-eating grin in response. “I mean… you didn’t tell me about her initially, and I’ve never seen her with you before. Does she live with you too?”
Dabi mulls over your question for a moment, keeping a careful eye on the horizon which is slowly growing brighter, as he turns onto your street. After a moment he nods.
“Yeah, she does.” He confirms. “I know how it looks: one high school girl living with five guys in their twenties and thirties, but trust me, it’s not like that.” He’s quiet for a moment before elaborating.
“Toga has a shitty past. She ran away from her folks years ago – bad homelife from what she told us – and she had nowhere to go for a long time. I found her wandering the boardwalk one day and she never left after that. She took to Twice immediately, and she’s basically like his little sister. He’d do just about anything for her.” He exhales through his noes as he begrudgingly admits; “Hell, we all would.”
“Damn, how much did it hurt to admit that?” you tease him, prompting him groan.
“Shut up.” He grumbles as he pulls into your building’s parking lot. He parks the car and turns to you. “So, did we scare you off?”
“Not yet.” you tell him with a smile as you unbuckle your seat beat and open your door, posed to leave. “You guys are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that, but honestly; this was really nice. Thank you for inviting me over. I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”
Dabi shrugs his shoulders, “Well they seem to like you, especially Toga and Twice, so you’re welcome to come over again if you want. It’ll have to be during the evening though, since we all work at night.”
“Noted.” You tell him as you slide out of the car, only for him to suddenly grab your arm. You turn to stare at him quizzically, only for him to nod at your purse.
“Gimme me your phone for a second.”
You unlock it and pass it to him wordlessly, only to see him open a new contact in your phone and type something into it before passing it back to you. “My number.” He tells you before you can ask. “It’s easier to get a hold of me this way, rather than running into me at night at random.”
“Good call.” You agree, “I’ll text you later?”
“I’ll be waiting.” He sends you a knowing smirk. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.”
“Yeah… later.” You tell him, closing the door behind you. He waits until you’ve made it inside your building’s lobby, before peeling out of the parking lot and taking off towards his house like hell on wheels. You find it a little strange, but you loose track of your thoughts when you glance down at your phone, only to see he’s labeled himself as Dabi with a little flame emoji and a winky face next to his name in your contacts.
You feel yourself blush involuntarily as you stuff your phone back in your purse and climb the stairs to your apartment.
You definitely had a crush on him, you couldn’t deny it. Yet there was something off about him you just couldn’t place. There was something he wasn’t telling you – you just couldn’t figure out what it was.
The next several weeks come and go, and for the most part, they’re uneventful.
Work is going well, and you finally manage to find the time to finish personalizing your apartment so it looks more like home. Your friends still message you occasionally, giving you updates about what’s going on back home, and your ex pops up in conversation with them once or twice on how he’s still asking about you, much to your dismay. Aside from that, everything in your life is shockingly normal.
It feels almost odd being able to say it out loud. This is the most at ease you’ve felt since breaking up with your ex. Being on your own, away from him and his obsessive tendencies, makes you question why you didn’t do it sooner.
It feels nice, being able to breathe for the first time in almost two years since calling it off with him. Your life is calmer, maybe a bit slower than you’re used to, but it’s peaceful and stable. You’re happy.
The only major thing that’s changed recently is how you’re spending a lot more time around Dabi now.
Ever since he gave you his number, you’ve been texting back and forth frequently. You’ve gotten to know him better in that time (even though he still refused to tell you his real name), and you can safely say; he has his quirks.
For starters; he only messages you at night. He’s radio silent during the day, and only texts you back once the sun has set, or whenever he gets up. You’d blame it on him working nights, but he’s always quick to respond to your texts late at night, and always seems to be free whenever you message him asking if he wanted to get together, making you wonder what kind of work schedule he runs on.
Another thing you find peculiar is how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat before. You’ve offered to make him dinner a few times or to go into town to get something, but he always waves you off politely, telling you he’s already eaten, or giving you some other reason why he doesn’t want to get food with you. It’s not a deal-breaker by any means, and he doesn’t strike you as the type to have issues with food, but you leave it be just in case.
He's also weird about coming into your apartment even though he’s been in it multiple times by now. You’d initially thought he was uncomfortable being in your space, but it seems to be more of a politeness thing than anything else. He’s definitely not as stiff about entering like he was when he first came to visit, but he still makes a show about you inviting him in, even though he claims he could waltz right into your unit if he wanted to, but he never does.
Finally, you’ve noticed he isn’t particularly well-liked by the locals. In fact; none of the people in his house seem to be, but it’s especially bad with him.
It’s glaringly obvious. He’s taken you into town a handful of times so you can walk around together, only for people to glare pointedly at him and start whispering as soon as you were both out of ear-shot. If it bothers him, he doesn’t let it show, but you know from how his jaw tenses up, he’s aware that people are talking behind his back.
You tried to ask him about it once, but he shrugged you off, saying something about how there was some bad blood between him and some of the older locals, but refused to dive into it, stating how it was old news, but some people didn’t like to forget the past. His tone had given you the impression he wasn’t going to tell you any more than that, so you’d left it alone, not wanting to get into it.
There were somethings people didn’t feel comfortable sharing. You could relate; your rocky relationship with your ex was one of those topics for you.
To his credit, Dabi doesn’t pry into it, but it’s come up a few times – it’s inevitable, you knew it would eventually – but he doesn’t force you to say more then what you want to tell him. You don’t think you’d have to say much anyways; he seems to be able to piece together what happened in your past relationship on his own, without you having to say much of anything.
“Guy’s a dick.” He’d told you bluntly one night as you were taking an evening stroll around the boardwalk. “Seriously, he sounds like a tool. You should be glad you got out of there when you did. I wouldn’t waste your time crying over someone like him.”
“Easy to say that now – it wasn’t so easy when I was living with him.” You’d told him calmly. “We had joint banking. It’s hard to get out when you have to pay rent and buy groceries. I saved up enough to move out and get my place here eventually, but it took time.”
He’d fallen quiet at that, shifting his piercing blue orbs from your figure to the wooden boards beneath his feet, before nodding and muttering mostly to himself; “Yeah. I get that.”
For some reason, your heart had swelled in your chest upon seeing him vulnerable for a moment – a far cry from his usual fiery and cocky self.
In that moment you knew you were screwed; you were down bad for a man whose real name you still didn’t know. Somewhere along the lines, he had wormed his way into your heart without you noticing, and made a place from himself there.
Yet, you couldn’t say you minded. He was different from anyone you’d ever met, but in a way you found refreshing.
Currently, you find yourself walking with him on the boardwalk once again, admiring the blinking strings of fairy lights. Dabi doesn’t hold your hand, but he walks stride for stride with you, your shoulders bumping occasionally at the close proximity. Suddenly, a loud wail interrupts the usual fair noises permeating the warm evening air around you.
You both turn in the direction of the cry, only to see two middle-aged women standing in front of the massive missing person’s board. One of the ladies is sobbing unconsolably, while the other one is trying to console her.
Ah yes, you’d been so wrapped up with moving into your place and hanging out with Dabi on top of work, you’d almost completely forgotten about the town’s dark underbelly.
You can see Dabi’s lips pull downwards slightly as he takes them in, and he reaches out to try and steer you away from the scene, muttering under his breath about not wanting to get involved, but you gently pull your arm away from his grasp as you take a hesitant step towards the ladies who are slowly moving away from the old wooden board. You manage to overhear the last bit of their conversation as they leave, and older woman’s cry’s pull at your heart.
“—I don’t understand, where could he have gone? I saw him that morning, but he never came back home!”
“—We’ll find him dear. Maybe he’s visiting your friends on the other side of town.”
“—He would’ve called! It’s been three days! Three days since I’ve heard any word from my husband!”
You creep closer to the old corkscrew board and feel your heart sink in your chest as you find yourself looking at a fresh photo of a middle-aged man, presumably the woman’s missing husband. Now that you can see the board in its entirety, you notice there’s several new fliers posted among the sea of other missing faces, presumably never found.
You hear the heavy tread of Dabi’s combat boots behind you. “There’s more.” You tell him sadly without turning around. You hear him exhale loudly through his nose.
“Told you there would be. I wasn’t lying. This place is the missing person’s capitol of Japan.”
“I don’t understand.” You turn to face him, only to see that he has a blank expression on his face, giving nothing away. “I’ve never seen anything suspicious when we’ve gone out at night, and you told me that’s when this stuff usually happens.”
“The difference is; you don’t go out looking for trouble.” Dabi tells you smoothly, his insanely blue irises meeting yours, locking you in place. “Trust me, these people probably went out of their way to stumble across something they weren’t supposed to see, and they paid the price for it. Bad things happen all the time sweetheart, whether you see them or not.”
“You seem pretty confident about that.” You murmur finally, holding his gaze. “Had some experience with trouble in the past?”
For once, Dabi doesn’t have anything to say to you. Finally, he sighs and rakes a hand through his inky spikes. “Maybe.”
You want to ask him what he means, but in that moment, you feel your phone vibrate from inside your purse. You fish it out, only to see a text appear on screen that has your blood turning to ice in your veins.
???
Found you.
There’s no name attached to the text, only a random number you don’t recognize, but you think you already know who it’s from.
It has to be him. There’s only one other person you can think of who would text you something so innocent but so sinister, and it has you feeling like you want to puke.
Your ex-boyfriend.
Your eyes dart around the packed boardwalk wildly, trying to see if you could spot the familiar face of your ex in the crowd, but thankfully, you don’t see him anywhere.
How in the hell did he find you? There were only a few friends aside from your parents who knew where you’d moved to, and you highly doubt any of them would tell him where you’d gone. It was possible he’d simply gotten a new number and found a way to text you just to scare you, and if that’s what he wanted, he had accomplished his goal.
Your panic must be written across your face clear as day, because the next thing you know, Dabi has a hand underneath your chin, lifting your face up to meet his concerned expression.
“—I asked if you were okay doll. I’ve been calling you, but you didn’t respond to me.” He tells you. He glances down at your phone, a frown pulling at his lips. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” You tell him truthfully, shoving your phone back into your bag. “A really sick joke, I hope.”
His eyes narrow, the fire burning in them shines brightly, even though they’re more lidded then usual as he narrows his eyes at you. “What’s going on sweetheart?”
“Nothing—I—” You croak. You can’t stop looking around, hoping, praying, you don’t see the one person you were trying to escape from staring back at you. “—I gotta go.”
A look of concern passes over Dabi’s face, and you feel a flash of guilt for lying to him, but you don’t want to get him involved. You don’t want to bring anyone else into your mess. It’s not fair.
“If this was about earlier, I can—”
“It’s not!” you cut him off, already backing away from him. “I’ll text you later. I just—I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”
You don’t give him time to respond, before you pivot on your heel and book it down the boardwalk, away from the blinding lights, and away from him.
You don’t look back, and you don’t stop running until you’re in your tiny apartment – slamming the door behind you and locking it – even though it feels suffocating. It feels like the walls are closing in on you, and you’re finding it hard to breathe as you collapse onto your bed and cry.
You don’t know what to do.
You awake to the sound of furious pounding on your door.
You don’t know when you passed out; probably sometime after you managed to calm down slightly, but you can feel the dried tear tracks covering your cheeks as you slowly sit up and shuffle hesitantly towards your front door. The pounding continues, and you can’t help but wonder what time it is, and if you were going to receive a noise complaint from one of your neighbors, before you hear a horribly familiar voice just outside your door:
“I know you’re in there. You better open up right now or I’ll get your whole building involved!”
Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you hear the unmistakable sound of your ex-boyfriend’s voice snarl threateningly from the other side. You feel like someone’s dumped a bucket of freezing water on you as you start to panic. Tears flood your eyes involuntarily as you try to process what’s happening, but nothing’s making sense.
You have no doubt he’d wake the rest of your apartment building to get at you – if he hadn’t already woken up your neighbors. You know what he’s like better than anyone. Your ex has always been a big guy, and once he has his mind set on something (or someone), he’ll stop at nothing until he’s gotten it.
You have no idea how he got in the building in the first place, or how he figured out what apartment was yours, but that doesn’t matter as you watch your doorknob start twisting violently. You bolt forward and grab it with both hands, trying to keep it from unlocking as you listen to your ex-boyfriend grunt outside the door, no doubt trying to pick the lock from the outside.
After a few moments of back and forth struggling with the door; you hear the tell-take click of the door unlocking. You don’t stick around to watch it swing open – you know you won’t be able to hold it closed against him for long if he tries to force it open – and you sprint to your bedroom, slamming the flimsy door shut and locking it behind you.
You can’t calm down; you hear him in your kitchen, treading around the tiny space, calling for you, before his heavy footsteps slowly make their way towards your bedroom door.
You have limited options; if your apartment was closer to the ground, you’d consider escaping out your bedroom window, but you’re several stories up and you don’t want to do something that may cause you to break your leg, putting you at even more of a disadvantage against your ex-boyfriend. You have no idea what he wants from you, but if he’s so desperate that he’s willing to stalk you and break into your apartment, it can’t be good.
The police will take too long to get to you, you already know this. In the past, they hadn’t been helpful in these kind of situations – you know from experience. You can’t call them… but there is someone you can call.
You dive for your purse and pull out your phone just as your ex starts pounding on your bedroom door. Your finger hovers over Dabi’s contact in your phone, as he starts yelling at you through the door. You don’t want to involve Dabi in your personal troubles, you really don’t… but right now, you don’t have a choice.
Even though you don’t want to call him… you know he’ll help you.
Before you can second-guess yourself, you’ve hit the call button, and scoot yourself into the farthest corner of your room from the door, as you listen to the phone ring. It only rings twice before he picks up.
“It’s three in the morning sweetheart, what’s going on? Are you okay—”
“Dabi please help me!” you interrupt him, whispering frantically as your ex starts to rattle your doorknob. “I’m in trouble. I don’t know what to do!”
“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Immediately, his voice deepens, and you can tell he’s on high alert. You can’t see him, but you can hear rustling on the other end, and the tell-tale jingling of keys in the background.
“I’m in my apartment—it’s my ex—I don’t know how, but he found me. He broke in, and now he’s outside my door!” You hate that you’ve starting crying again, but you’re terrified, and Dabi can tell.
“Is he in the room with you?” Dabi rasps on the other line. “I can hear shouting in the background, that him?”
“Yeah, that’s him, and no he’s not, but he’s trying to force his way in!”
Dabi hums and you hear a door slam in the distance, followed by the sound of what you assume is his car starting.
“I’ll be there in less then ten. Just stay on the line with me. Everything’s going to be okay doll, I promise. I don’t know what he wants, but he’s not going to hurt you, I promise—”
At that moment, your bedroom door flies inward, causing you to scream and drop your phone, ending the call, as your ex rushes towards you. A surge of pure adrenaline hits you, and you drive your foot into his stomach and kick him back, giving you enough time to push yourself to your feet and make a mad dash for your door, only for him to grab you around the middle, and throw you down onto your bed, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands before you can recover.
“Get off me you freak!” you screech as you thrash in his hold. You manage to knee him in the sternum, briefly knocking the wind of out him, but it only serves to make him angrier, as he presses his knees into your thighs, and grips your wrists so tightly you know you’ll have handshape bruises adorning your arms for days after.
“Hell no, I finally found you, you little bitch—there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go again.�� Your ex seethes above you. “It took me weeks to track you down. Your friends were no help, so took me longer than expected to find you.”
“I didn’t want you to find me, that was the point of me moving here!” you wail as you desperately try to free your legs. “I never want to see you again! What part of that is so hard for you to understand?!”
“Bullshit. You and I aren’t done until I say we’re done.” Your ex snaps. He looks around your bedroom and scoffs.
“I see you’re trying so hard to build a new life without me. Ungrateful brat. You moved on fast.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Your ex-boyfriend dips down so your noses are almost touching. “I saw you on the boardwalk with that guy earlier. Who the hell is he? Your fuck-buddy? Your new boy toy?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but he’s on his way here so I suggest you leave before he makes you!”
At your threat, your ex throws his head back and laughs. “I know what he looks like. He’s not even half my body weight. I’m not fucking scared of him—”
The abrupt sound of your front door being kicked in aggressively stops him mid-sentence, and the sound of heavy boots stomping towards your bedroom causes him to freeze. Your ex shifts so he’s more upright and looks behind him, giving you a clear view of your doorframe; only to see Dabi standing in it, looking absolutely feral.
His dark hair is wilder then usual, obsidian spikes sticking up every which way, and he has on the dark, torn duster you’d first seen him in over his usual dark pants and white tee-shirt, giving him a an almost deranged look. He has a mean glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and he looks almost predatory as your bedroom casts odd shadows across his face. You’ve never seen him this pissed before, and all of your instincts are screaming at you to run as you take in his disheveled appearance. 
“You’re not scared of me, huh?” Dabi chuckles, but there’s no humor to it. His voice is as cold as ice, but his eyes are like blue fire, and are locked on your ex.
“You should be.”
It’s the only warning you get before he lunges at your ex. The sudden tackle rips him off of you and Dabi wastes no time taking him to the floor as you bolt upright. You look on in shock as both men wrestle on the floor before it turns into an all-out slug fest between them. You leap out of the way as they make their way off the floor and crash into your walls, never once taking their hands off of each other as they yell obesities and filth that you’re certain your next-door neighbor can hear through your shared wall. 
Honestly, you’re shocked at how well Dabi is handling himself – you didn’t think he was weak, but he’s much leaner then your ex and not as tall – yet, he’s clearly got the upper hand as he cracks your ex across the face in rapid succession. You freeze as his nose explodes into a mess of scarlet, splattering across his face and your wall as he yells out in pain, taking his hands off of Dabi to hold his nose in a pathetic attempt to stanch the bleeding. The sudden display of gore has the opposite effect on Dabi.
He stares at the blood flowing from your ex’s nose like a faucet, before shooting you an almost apologetic look. 
“Sorry you have to see this doll.”
You don’t have time to ask him what he means before he seems to shift right before your eyes. The shadows of your room seem to warp and twist around him, and you think it’s just a trick of the moonlight streaming in from your window; until you watch his obsidian hair turn stark white.
You feel your eyes widen as his form shifts – you ex is too busy trying to keep his nose together to pay attention to what’s happening in front of him – but you notice a horrible burning smell wafting through the room as his once pale, flawless skin morphs into a patchwork mess of dusky, wrinkled burns, held together to the few patches of visible healthy skin by what looks like silver surgical staples glinting wickedly in the pale moonlight.
You have no idea what’s happening to him or who or what he is, but you feel your knees give out as he flashes you a nasty looking grin, giving you a full view of the wicked sharp fangs sliding down past his burnt lower lip.
“You—” you whisper, but you don’t manage to say anything more, before Dabi turns back to your ex, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him down to his level, before sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the side of his neck before the larger man can even register what’s happening.
Your ex tries to fend him off, but Dabi is stronger. He ends up relinquishing his hold on his hair in favour of wrapping his arms around him in a death embrace. You can’t pull your eyes off of the scene in front of you, as your ex’s struggling gradually grows weaker, while Dabi laps at the blood flowing freely from the deep puncture holes in the side of his neck.
You hear your ex gargle wetly in the back of his throat before he goes completely limp in the white-haired mans grip. After a moment, Dabi retracts his fangs from his neck, before tossing his motionless body to the floor. You whimper involuntarily as you cover your mouth, staring at the lifeless body of your ex-boyfriend as Dabi whirls around to face you, his piercing eyes finding yours.
“You killed him.” You whisper. Dabi only glances down at the still-warm corpse on your bedroom floor for half a second before locking eyes with you again.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“He was assaulting you.”
“Oh.” You croak lamely. You try not to stare at the red coating his lips and dripping down his chin, staining the white of his shirt.
A moment of silence descends on your room. The only thing you can hear is the frantic pounding of your heart in your chest – it’s so loud in the resounding silence, you’re sure Dabi can hear it. The air is so tense you can cut it with a knife, but neither of you make a move. Finally, you clear your throat.
“I think I’m going to call the police.”
“You’re not going to do that.”
When the ivory-haired creature speaks, his voice is low and quiet, but you can tell just by looking at his eyes, he means business. You swallow thickly and nod to the corpse behind him.
“There’s a dead body in my apartment Dabi, I need to call the police. I—” you cough, trying to reason with him. “I’m not going to tell them about you. I won’t say anything. I know you were trying to protect me, but I can’t just ignore a dead body in my bedroom—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dabi interrupts you, waving a hand at the corpse dismissively. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What do you mean you’ll—”
Dabi snaps his fingers, and before you can blink, the corpse of your ex-boyfriend bursts into bright blue flames. You scream as you scramble backwards, pressing yourself further against the wall, as the flames rage and quickly consume the body before your eyes. Dabi only grins savagely at your reaction.
“Don’t be scared sweetheart. He’s trash. The least he can do is become fuel for my flames.”
“Oh my god,” you whisper, watching as the cobalt flames extinguish themselves, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. “What are you?”
Dabi only stares you down as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think you already know the answer doll.”
You do. But you don’t think you can voice it out loud. You don’t know what it means for either of you now.
Dabi licks his mismatched lips, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his red tinted fangs. “You’re coming with me.”
You shake your head. “No, hold on—”
“I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart.”
He’s on you faster than you can blink. He slaps a brunt hand over your mouth before you can cry out. He grabs your chin with his free hand as he presses you up against the wall, forcing you to stare into his burning irises.
“Sleep.” He commands.
You feel a wave of sudden fatigue pass over you, and your eyelids flutter shut against your will. The last thing you remember is feeling his insanely warm arms wrap around you and a sudden feeling of weightlessness, before sleep takes you.
You wake up with a pounding headache.
Blinking away sleep, you slowly sit up with a groan and rub at your eyes, wincing internally as you feel your eye makeup smear even further. You slowly look around, only to freeze as it suddenly dawns on you have no idea where you are.
You’re in what appears to be a bedroom, but it’s hard to tell since it’s so dark. The window coverings block out any form of light from outside, keeping you quite literally in the dark. You have no idea what time it is or (more concerning), who’s bedroom you’re in, until the events from before you passed out come flooding back to you.
Your ex. Blood everywhere. Dabi. Scars. Blue flames. Fangs.
You shudder at the last thought. Had you hallucinated the whole thing? It didn’t seem real. You think back to feeling the heat of the flames that had consumed your ex-boyfriend on your skin, and you rub at your arms involuntarily.
No, they had definitely been real. Which means everything else was real too.
Currently, you were certain of two things:
One: your shitty ex was dead. Drained of his blood before being incinerated to a crisp before your very eyes.
Two: Dabi wasn’t human.
Before you can sink too far into your thoughts, you’re suddenly aware of a prickling sensation dancing along your skin. You know the feeling all too well, and as groggy as you might feel in the moment, you’re painfully aware someone’s watching you.
You’re not alone.
A slight shuffling noise from the far corner of the room catches your attention. You slowly turn in the direction of the sound with baited breath, only to see an abnormal looking shadow faintly outlined in the surrounding darkness of the room.
You already know who it is without him having to say anything.
“Dabi?” you call out to him timidly. A deep sigh answers you.
“Good, you’re awake. You’ve been out for a while.” He rasps quietly.
“Where am I?” you ask, squinting at his outline. The more you try to make him out, the more he seems to try and blend into the pitch of the room.
“My room. Back at the house. I drove us back here after you passed out.” You hear him kiss the back of his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sleep for so long.”
“Wait, how long have I been out?” you question, as you feel around your surroundings, only to realize that he’s put you on his bed.
“About an hour. Dawn’s coming soon. I couldn’t leave you alone after you saw all… that.”
He doesn’t need to clarify what he means.
You both laps into an uncomfortable silence, before you finally gather up the courage to ask him the question that’s plagued you since he took you.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Silence answers you, and you feel yourself start to shake as every horrible scenario you can think of races through your head. Almost as if he senses the what you’re thinking about, you hear Dabi take a hesitant step forward, only to catch himself at the last second.
“…No.” he finally admits. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”
“Then why did you bring me here?” you sniff, as you try to control the tears you feel pricking at the corners of your lash line. “Why do any of this. What are you? Who are you?”
He doesn’t answer you. You squint into the abys of the room where you know he is, and you can faintly see his deep blue eyes gazing back at you, looking like twin flames in the gloom. You swallow hard and try a different approach.
“It’s too dark in here… can I have some light?”
Dabi sighs, but you hear him snap his fingers, and suddenly a candle you didn’t know was nearby, bursts into blue flames. The wicks hiss and sizzle before settling, casting an eerie blue glow around the room, illuminating it slightly. You glance to the corner where you know Dabi is, and you can see him a little better, though he seems to be trying to keep himself out of the light as much as possible.
You frown slightly. “Come here.” You tell him quietly, patting the space beside you on the bed. You know you’re tempting fate, but you believe him when you say he won’t hurt you. He had multiple chances to kill you, and yet; you’re still here.
You hear Dabi snort. “I don’t think you want that.”
You shake your head. “I do. C’mere. We need to talk.”
Dabi falls silent, but you see him turn towards you, and slowly makes his way over to you. The flickering blue light the candle provides casts twisted shadows over his lean frame as he stops just in front of you, and bends down so he’s eye level with you.
You find yourself face to face with a mess of painful looking burns covering the majority of his face, held together with countless surgical staples. The burns are everywhere; under his eyes, his neck, the entirety of his lower jaw, and even his ears. Now that you’re up close, you can see he even has some staples decorating his ears much like regular piercings, and he even has three studs dotting the right side of his nose. They suit him in a way, and you can’t help but find him handsome, even with half of his face completely ravaged by burns.
Dabi’s eyes glint savagely as you take him in slowly, his two-toned lips pulling back and exposing the deadly sharp fangs inside his maw. “Not pretty, is it?”
“What happened to you?” you whisper, hesitantly reaching up to touch his burnt lower jaw. Dabi seems to want to flinch away from your touch, but he forces himself to stay grounded as your fingertips gently brush his destroyed skin.
He laughs breathlessly and rakes a burnt hand aggressively through his now very white hair. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He agrees, pulling away from your gentle hands reluctantly. He trudges over to a small loveseat pushed up against the wall opposite to his bed and sits down on it, shrugging off his torn duster, before putting his head in his hands with a sigh, giving you a painful view of the long wine-coloured burns tracking down his arms and ending at his knuckles.
You try not to focus at the dried blood that’s still decorating his shirt and hands.
After a moment he props his head up on his hands, fixing you with his intense gaze, but still doesn’t say anything. You realize he’s waiting for you; but now you’re at a loss for words. The agitated vampire across the room from you sighs, and you can see the veins in his neck become more prominent as he forces himself to try and relax.
“I know you have questions, so ask.”
“So, you’re really a—” you cut yourself off and swallow thickly. Even though you know what he is without him saying it, you still can’t quiet bring yourself to say it out loud. He leans forward, smiling meanly as he rests his forearms on his knees, eyeing you with his burning stare of his, that suddenly seems so cold.
“Go on, you can say it.” He prompts you, finally getting you to unfreeze.
“—A vampire.” You finish lamely. He nods, leaning back and draping both arms over the back of the loveseat.
“You got it sweetheart.”
“But how?” you prod, finally finding your voice. “I thought they were myth?”
“So did I, until one bit me.” Dabi snickers unkindly across from you, before quieting down, allowing you to ask your next question.
“How did you become one?”
“I died.” Dabi tells you flatly, avoiding your gaze for the first time since he brought you here. His nose scrunches up after he says it.
“Well, I almost did. Technically I was walking the line between life and death when the old fucker found me.”
He sighs and runs a blood-stained hand through his spiky white mane, leaving faint russet streaks behind. You force yourself to maintain eye contact with him as he speaks again.
“When I was alive, my name was Touya Todoroki.” He admits softly, giving you his real name for the first time since you met him.  “I was taking a walk in the woods near my family home when a forest fire broke out, burning everything. I got trapped in the blaze and I ended up with these.” He gestures to the dark patches of gnarled skin covering the majority of his visible skin.
“I’m not sure how I managed to survive, and I don’t know how long I was left there for; but it was the vampire who ended up turning me, who found me in the aftermath. I was in bad shape and probably would’ve died if he hadn’t given me his blood, turning me into this.”
He says it so scathingly. You know he’s frustrated without him having to tell you. Still… the horrific burns that mar his skin tell you a story of unspeakable agony. There’s no way a normal person would’ve been able to survive what he went through without help. His help just happened to have come from an unexpected source.
“He saved you.” You murmur quietly, causing Dabi… Touya… whatever his name was, to snort bitterly.
“He didn’t fucking ask, he just did, consequences be damned. Believe me, there was plenty of days at the beginning where I wish he hadn’t and just let me die.”
His bluntness causes a deep ache to bloom in your chest as you take in the vast amount of damage covering his body. You can only imagine how much worse the burns had been when he’d first been turned, on top of dealing with becoming what he is now. Before you can say anything, Dabi continues on, still refusing to look at you directly.
“After he turned me; my sire brought me back with him to recover. I ended up staying with him for a few years while I was figuring out my new body before I eventually left. Found my way here a while ago and never ended up leaving. Been here ever since.” He looks at you pointedly. “Don’t ask me how old I am. I stopped keeping track a while ago.”
Normally you’d be content to leave it there (honestly, now that he’s said it, you’re not sure if you want to know exactly how old he is anyways), but he has a car, which means he must have a license of some kind, which then begs the question how he was able to get one in the first place.
“Wait, so if you’re a vampire and you’re… older than you look, how have you been able to get a drivers license, or any I.D. for that matter?” Dabi snorts.
“Remember how Compress works as an entertainer?”
“Yeah…?”
“Turns out he’s really good at forgery too.”
“Oh.” You furrow your brows at his explanation.
“So… Compress knows about your… condition?” Dabi smirks at your hesitance.
“Oh yeah. Fully aware.”
“Is he… I mean… is everyone in the house a—”
“We’ll put it this way doll: nobody in this house has a heartbeat except for you.”
Well, this just kept getting better and better. Not only was your crush and his friend’s part of the undead; they were also committing fraud. You definitely knew how to pick them.
In hindsight, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are upon hearing the rest of Dabi’s roommates are also vampires. All of them operated at night, and they definitely had quirks that set them apart from other people. Not to mention it would also explain the feeling of unease you always experienced around them. You’re more shocked at how many there are, which brings you to your next question:
“So, your sire—” you look at him questionably, waiting for him to explain. Thankfully, he provides you with an answer.
“—is a term referring to the one who turns you, yeah. Mine happened to be a particularly old bastard. Strong as hell, but old as time. He had a lot of influence over my kind back in the day. Pretty sure he died some years back. No idea who killed him, but I’d thank them if I knew.” He pauses before laughing lightly.
“Come to think of it; Shigaraki and I share the same sire, but he stayed with him way longer than I did. I left as soon as I could.”
Well, that was interesting news. “Why?”
“He played favourites.”  The snowy-haired vampire grins at you from across the way, but there’s no warmth behind his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure he turned me first, but I was already gone by the time Shigaraki came into the picture. We knew of each other, but our paths never crossed. He sought me out a year or two before our sire bit the dust, and I’ve been stuck with him ever since. As for the others…” he waves his hand dismissively. “Hell if I know. They just sort of showed up one day, one after the other. I don’t know how they found us, s’not like I was broadcasting we were here, but they still came regardless, and then they never left.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to your sire.” You tell him. “It must be hard, loosing your mentor like that.” To your surprise Dabi only laughs, waving off your concerns.
“Don’t be. In fact, I’m not. I’m glad he’s gone. Shigaraki was more torn up about it then I ever was, but even he got over it. There’s a lot of perks that come along with your sire dying. Powerful perks.” He leans forward, pointing to the blue flames chewing away at the candle wicks.
“When it comes to vampire hierarchy, the most powerful vampires are the older ones who create the majority of newer vampires. The vampires they turn are basically their pawns – never to get any stronger – unless, their creator dies. Then they can inherit some of their former sire’s abilities through succession.”
He grins darkly at the confused expression you know you must be wearing on your face, because he elaborates before you can ask. He taps the marred skin of his lower jaw.
“If you haven’t noticed, I can shift between my real face, and the one you’re used to seeing; minus the burns. I didn’t used to be able to do that. Do you know how fucking difficult it is to go out in public when your face looks like this? Even at night, all people do is stare. It’s fucking annoying.” He shakes his head, allowing the dim candle light to reflect off his pale hair, giving it a blue tinge. “There’s a bunch of other things I can do now, but this is the most useful.”
“Like the flames?” You ask. Surprisingly, Dabi shakes his head.
“No, that I’ve always been able to do since I turned. My own special ability if you will. Normally you get one when you become a vampire. Shigaraki can decay shit; Toga can transform herself into a different person if she’s drank their blood; Twice can create multiple copies of himself; you get the picture. there’re some weird ones out there. Mine’s a sick fucking joke, considering it’s what killed me in the first place, but it’s powerful, so I can’t complain too much.”
“Oh.” You mumble, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s telling you, but you know you’re failing miserably. You’re not worried about him killing you, but you still don’t understand why he’s telling you all this.
“So… you don’t want to kill me.” You clarify gently. Dabi only shakes his head.
“No. Wouldn’t have bothered tell you all that if I did.” He confirms softly.
“Then what do you want with me?” you ask him again. Dabi sighs.
“I don’t think it’s a secret that I like you princess.” He tells you with the faintest hint of a smirk, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. “—and I know you like me too.” He adds after a pause.
Your mouth twitches and you nod slowly before looking away. “I do, it’s just... this is a lot to take in.”
A thought occurs to you suddenly, an awful thought. One that you wish you didn’t think of, but now that you have, you have to ask.
“All those people… the missing ones from the boardwalk… that was you, wasn’t it?”
His silence is telling.
“Oh my god Dabi…” you whisper, running a hand through your hair as you let out a breathless laugh. “There’s so many people… how long have you been doing this for?”
“To be fair, not all of them were me.” He corrects you, but his answer lacks any of his usual fire. “There are five other vampires here. I can’t drain over a hundred people by myself. Besides, I don’t need much to survive. I can go two or three weeks without feeding, but the longer I go without blood, the worse the thirst is.”
“Over a hundred?” you sputter. You think back to all the faces you’d seen posted on the bulletin board. Some postings had been quite old while others had been days old, and there had probably been more before them – many more.
“Like I said; we’ve been here a long time. We never get old, and we basically never die… but we have to feed. That’s the trade off.” Dabi tells you solemnly.
“We normally try to go for people who won’t be missed; drunks, the occasional asshole who pisses us off… and some piece of shit abusers.” He growls ominously, and you know that he’s referring to your ex without him having to say it.
“… But some people just end up coming across us at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He admits after a moment. “We try to be selective about who we feed off of, but if we’re starving, we have to feed, otherwise we would go feral.”
“Is that why you brought me here?” you hate that you have to ask him, but you need to know. “To feed off of?”
“Hell no.” Dabi reaffirms. “Of course not. Your blood smells incredible, and I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought about drinking from you...” He bites his burnt lower lip as you visibly cringe in front of him, before quickly adding: “But I’m not going to feed off you. I enjoy having you around too much. You’re different from the other humans I’m forced to be around. Besides, I’m not hungry anyways.”
You try not to read too much into that.
“So then what are your plans for me?” you finally ask, as you pull one of the blankets you were laying on over your legs. “Why bother telling me any of this? Do… do the others know I’m here?”
“They know. If you’re worried about them getting at you, they won’t. They’d have to go through me, and I’m not someone they want to fight anyways. I’d light their asses up if they got within ten feet of you. But they don’t want you harmed either, so don’t worry about them.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Dabi scoffs. “Shigaraki isn’t happy that I brought you back here, but he’s a miserable bastard on a good day. I couldn’t very well leave you back at your place anyways.”
“So then what happens now?” you ask quietly. “I don’t think things can go back to the way they were before.”
Dabi shakes his head; his ivory spikes sway sightly at the motion. “No. They can’t. I figured if I brought you back here and tried to explain what was going on, you’d understand at least a little. I wouldn’t have bothered saving you from that piece of shit if I didn’t somewhat care for you, you know.” 
“I know.” You pause before averting your eyes, and mumbling bashfully; “Thank you for saving my life. I have no idea what he was going to do with me, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I was… so scared.” You admit as you drop your gaze to your hands.
You ex had never acted like that before in the past – even when things were at an all-time low between you, he’d never physically assaulted you. The look he’d had in his eyes could’ve fooled you into thinking he was possessed by a demon. You don’t want to think about what would’ve happened had Dabi not intervened.
At your silence, Dabi stands from his spot and slowly makes his way over to you, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted, but you let him approach. He cautiously kneels on the bed in front of you, and slowly takes your hands in his large, scarred ones.
“Look;” he tells you softly, but firmly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I like you. There’s something about you I find irresistible – and it’s got nothing to do with how I find the smell of your blood intoxicating either. I want you to stay… with me, that is.”
You feel yourself soften at his admission and he groans in the back of his throat, squeezing your hands. “Look. I’m not good at this shit. I’ve been around a long time and I’ve never been good at it – never needed to be – but ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to keep you all to myself.” He bites out a laugh at his admission.
“It’s selfish of me to say that; especially considering everything that happened with your ex – but you make me want to be.” He licks his lips before quietly admitting;
“I may be a monster, but I certainly won’t treat you like one.”
You mull over his words for a moment. His eyes convey nothing but sincerity, and you find yourself believing what he’s saying to you. You squeeze his hands back.
“I feel the same way about you.” You admit, watching as a variety of emotions flicker through his eyes. Shock. Surprise. Acceptance, and something else you couldn’t quite place—
“Can I kiss you? He suddenly blurts out. You blink, realizing he’d gradually gotten closer to you, invading your space and crowding you in. If it’d had been anyone else, you’d be uncomfortable with how close they were to you; but it’s Dabi, and even with the knowledge of what he was, you don’t feel anything but calm.
Odd, considering you’d watched him murder a man right in front of you not too long ago – but even knowing that, you know he won’t hurt you.
You nod, your eyes slipping closed, and he leans in and presses his two-toned lips to your own. The texture of his lips is unlike anything you’ve ever felt; his upper lip is soft while his bottom lip is rough and chapped from the burns, but the contrast is nice, and you feel yourself sigh into the kiss, giving him further access to your mouth. The scarred man takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, as you feel his hands leave your own to cradle either side of your face. You realize how big his hands are when you feel his fingers splay out across your lower jaw and sweep over the pulse point in your neck, keeping you tethered to him as you fist your hands in his shirt.
You only pull back when air becomes too much of a necessity, but not before you boldly run your tongue over the too-sharp teeth hidden in his mouth, causing Dabi to laugh slightly as he watches you regain your breath. His hands never leave the sides of your face, as you reach up to cover the backs of his stapled covered hands with your smaller ones.
“You’re playing a dangerous game sweetheart.” he chuckles, slowly rubbing circles onto your face with his fingertips. “Keep doing that, and I really won’t be able to control myself around you.”
His statement makes you blush and you squeeze his hands. “Dabi I—"
“Touya.”
“What—?”
“Touya. My real name. It’s Touya.” He tells you breathlessly. “You asked me when we first met what my real name was. It’s Touya. Just call me Touya.”
“Touya.” You test his real name out gently, and a pleased rumble escapes the back of his throat.
“Fuck, it sounds good coming from you.” He tells you, eyes half-lidded. “Really good.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as he closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips to your own, only this time, he’s bolder and allows his hands to wander down your body until they settle on your hips, hot as a brand.
“Shit.” You murmur as you wrap your arms around his neck. Touya chuckles against your lips before tilting his head so his head his mouth is right next to your ear.
“If you want to keep going, just know I’m not going to stop.” He rasps as he squeezes your hips. “I won’t force you, but if you don’t want to then you have to tell me now—”
You cut him off by turning your head and pressing your lips to his again, prompting him to pull you closer until you’re practically straddling his lap.
“Fuck.” He snarls as he shifts and pins you down on his bed. “Here I was trying to be nice. Trying to be good for you, but you had to go and rile me up—”
“Touya.” You whimper as you feel something hard pressing into your inner thigh. “Touya please. Don’t tease.”
“Fuck sweetheart, I know. Don’t worry I’m going to take care of you.” He hisses as he paws at your shirt. “Fucking—take this shit off. I want to see you.”
He helps strip you out of your clothes in record time, and suddenly you find yourself bare before him. You move to cover your exposed breasts but Touya swiftly pins your hands. He doesn’t bother to try and hide his unapologetic gaze as he takes in the sight of your naked body on his bed.
He looks at you as if you’re a work of art, you realize, and he seems to be completely lost in you. You call out to him gently, snapping him out of whatever trance he’s fallen under.
“I can’t believe you’re letting someone like me do this to someone like you.” He admits. “Even after I told you what I am. After you’ve seen what I can do. What I’ve done.” He shakes his head, but his eyes light up as a wicked smirk overtakes his features, allowing his fangs to peak out from under his lip.
“Think you might be as fucked up as me, pretty girl. No woman in their right mind would let a monster like me fuck them after watching me kill their shitbag ex. You’re a sick little thing, aren’t you?” he teases you, but you only shake your head.
“You’re not a monster.” You tell him sincerely. “I don’t think you are.”
Touya only smiles down at you as he touches his forehead to yours. “Think you might be the only person in the world who thinks that sweetheart, but thank you.”
You fist your hand in his bloodied shirt. “Take this off.” You tell him, and for the first time, he hesitates slightly.
“It’s not pretty underneath.” He warns you. “The burns go all the way down.”
You help him out of his shirt in response.
He’s not wrong: his torso is a mosaic of dark purple burns and staples crossing over his shoulders, stomach and back. His legs aren’t much better once you shimmy his pants down his legs, but you couldn’t care less once you see his cock.
It’s beautiful and pale like the rest of his unmarred skin, it’s a good length, and decently thick. The tip is flushed red and you can’t help but swallow in anticipation as he kneels between your legs again. Touya grins as he hovers over you.
“I can hear your heart about to burst out of your chest princess. You might wanna calm down; don’t want you passing out on me.”
“Shut up.” You mumble sheepishly, prompting him to laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve—well…”
Touya chuckles at your hesitance. “Me too.” He admits, and for some reason, it makes you feel better. Touya’s eyes rake down your exposed form, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drags his eyes up to your neck. “You smell so good.”
“Do you want to?” you ask breathlessly, turning your head slightly to the side. “I could let you—”
“No, not yet.” Touya murmurs, bending down to kiss you. “Let me try something.”
You don’t get the chance to ask him what he means before he’s bent down between your legs, and licking a long stripe through the middle of your pussy with the flat of his tongue.
You let out a load moan and throw your head back as he begins to lap at your pussy like a man starved, his large hands hold your thighs open as he licks at your center. You whimper and moan as he eats you out with vigor – your cries only increasing in volume as he introduces his fingers to where you need him most.
He starts with one pushing deep into your core, but it isn’t long before he’s adding a second digit, scissoring you open as he eats you out like he’s biting into a ripe fruit, and you feel divine.
It’s not long before you feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you close your eyes as you prepare to fall – only for your eyes to suddenly snap open as you feel something sharp digging into your inner thigh. You bolt up with a gasp only to see your vampire’s fangs buried in the meat of your thigh as he continues to pump his long fingers in and out of you.
Your blood dribbles down his chin as he continues to suck on you – moaning around your leg – and some sick part of your brain thinks it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You reach down and fist your hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly and watch his eyes close as he groans something that sounds suspiciously like “harder.”
His fingers brush up against your sweet spot when you tug on the blood-streaked strands again, and you buck up into his hand, causing him to stroke the spot again and again has he drinks your blood. You’re getting light-headed and you can’t tell if it’s from your impending orgasm or the blood loss, before Touya pulls away from your leg, and twists his fingers just right, causing you to fall over the edge with a loud gasp as you feel yourself come undone.
“Fuck me.” You hear Touya snarl, and suddenly he’s looming over you again, caging you in with both his arms on either side of you, mouth dripping red with your blood. He grins down at you sadistically, elongated fangs streaked red with your blood. “That’s so fucking hot.”
You only moan in response as you feel for the puncture wounds he’s left in your thigh, but he swats your hand away as he lines himself in with your entrance. He pins both of your hands above your head with his free hand, and swoops down to press a heated kiss to your neck before slamming himself home – filling you up in one fluid motion.
You feel your back arch off the bed, and your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ as you struggle to adjust to his size. Above you, Touya hisses, as he struggles to keep himself in check.
“I can feel you squeezing down on me.” He pants. “You keep doing that, I’m not going to last long.” He warns you, but you shake your head.
“Don’t care. I just—I just want to feel you Touy—”
You don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s moving within you. His movements are deep and deliberate, leaving your breathless as he snaps his hips against yours at a brutal pace. He’s relentless, almost as if he’s trying to make a home for himself in your depths. You notice that his pupils are dilating and shrinking rapidly as he struggles to hold himself back break completely breaking you.
“Fuuuck.” The white-haired vampire groans as he slides his hand down to your hip, holding you in place as he pounds into your gummy walls. “You’re perfect. I knew you would be. I wanted you. I wanted you from the moment I smelled your blood. I’m glad I didn’t—” he cuts his ramblings off, and buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you moan his name.
You feel his fangs ghosting along your neck, and it brings you back to reality. You weakly tap at his hand holding both of yours prisoner with your fingers, and he quickly releases you. You opt to wrap your arms around his burnt neck – being mindful of the staples holding his skin together – trying to keep him as close as possible, as his other hand finds your free hip, and grips you hard enough that you know you’ll have handshape bruises by the time you’re done.
But that doesn’t matter, not when he’s trying his damnedest to rearrange your insides.
“I’m close.” You murmur in his burnt ear, and he grunts in acknowledgment.
“Me too.” He rumbles, pressing his warm body to yours. “Need you to come for me doll. Need to feel it—” he sneakily reaches down to rub at your clit, and that does you in. 
You come with a choked scream and he follows you with an almost feral snarl. You feel his cock twitch and are rewarded by the warm stream of his dead seed deep within you. It’s too much stimulation, and you try to move away, but he follows you, holding you down with his body weight. You feel the press of his fangs like a whisper against your neck, but he doesn’t bite down, much to your surprise.
You stay glued together for what feels like an eternity, only for him to pull out of your body with a huff and flop down next to you on his bed. He doesn’t go far though, and opts to pull you close to his scar-ridden body so you’re practically laying on top of his chest; not that you mind though.
It’s funny, now that you’re so close to him – it’s only now that you realize he doesn’t have a heartbeat.
It should be concerning. It should have you running for the hills. You should be panicking at the knowledge of the literal undead roaming around, draining unsuspecting victims of their life blood – and while you’re still not sure what to think of the last part – you also know the vampire next to you wouldn’t hurt you. He’s protected you in his own gory way, and while you know you probably shouldn’t; you feel safe around him.
You trace the seams of his scars, and feel him hum contentedly in the back of his throat as he shifts you slightly against him. Peering at the dark window coverings, you can see the faint traces of dawn light trying to break through. Touya follows your gaze through heavily lidded eyes.
“Guess you’re staying here doll; I’m not going out in that. I’ll take you home later.”
“What, so you can make me do the walk of shame in front of your roommates?” you ask him, causing him to laugh.
“They won’t say anything. Not if they don’t want to get turned to ash.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and flashes his fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the low candle-light. You tap them hesitantly.
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Bite me. You could’ve.”
“Your leg says otherwise sweetheart.”
“Not that.” You brush him off. “I mean my neck. I know you wanted to. I could feel you.”
Touya exhales loudly through his pierced nose. “I did.” He admits. “The problem is, if I did, I probably wouldn’t stop.”
“Ah.”
You lapse into silence for a moment more, before you go back to tracing seams of his broken skin. “Can you turn people? Into what you are?”
He only nods, closing his eyes gently. “I can.” He confirms. “Never done it before though. Never had the need or want to.”
You feel your heart speed up in your chest, and you know he must be able to hear it as you force yourself to ask; “What would you do, if I asked you to turn me one day?” Touya only chuckles.  
“I’d turn you into my own personal thrall. Keep you by my side.”
“Oh, so like some sort of slave?” you tease weakly, but Touya only shakes his head with a slight grimace.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a Dracula’s Bride sort of arrangement actually. I wouldn’t put you through the shit I went through when I first turned.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air between you, but he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You twist and prop yourself up on your elbow so you’re looking him dead in his eyes, only to see he’s deadly serious, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
“You mean that?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” he tells you gruffly, placing one of his large hands on your head and pushing you back down to his chest. “Don’t ask me shit like that unless you’re actually serious though. It’s a one-way street. The change is permanent. You’re this forever.” He warns you.
He must see the hesitation in your eyes, because his voice softens, and the hand that’s currently holding your head down switches to lightly combing through your hair.
“Live your life for now sweetheart. My offer still stands: If you really want to toss your mortality out the window. I’ll be the one to take it from you. But for now, just think about it. You can give me your answer when you’re ready.”
“…and what if I decide I’m never ready?”
Touya chuckles. “Then you’ll have my undead ass as a boyfriend when you’re an old lady up until the day you die.”
“A boyfriend huh?” you tease, grinning up at him softly. He rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. I just told you I’d make you my thrall, that’s all you’re getting from me pretty girl.”
“You basically said you’d make me your wife. Dracula’s bride, remember?”
Touya rolls his eyes, and you swear you see the faintest dusting of pink flash across the parts of his cheeks that aren’t brunt, but it’s gone as soon as it came, prompting you to giggle, and you both fall into a comfortable silence.
He squeezes you once after a heartbeat. “I’d take care of you, you know; if you wanted me to turn you. I’ll take care of you now, but I’ll look after you if and when you decide you want me to change you. You know my secret so you’re stuck with me now. It’s not like I can let you go. You don’t have a choice.”
You laugh in spite of yourself and snuggle closer to him. “I could think of worse things.”
“You say that now…”
“and I’ll mean it later.” You tell him as you reach up to stroke the burnt flesh of his jaw. “Really, I do.”
You feel Touya press a light kiss to the crown of your head, “Yeah I know.” He confirms, murmuring into your hair. “Now, sleep. I’ll take you back to your place once the sun has set. We’ll figure out what to say to your landlord about the scorch marks I left behind. Worse comes to worse, you can just move in here with me.”
You feel your eyelids droop at his words and you snuggle into his burnt flesh, trying your best not to apply any more added pressure to the sutures keeping him together, as you feel his arms settle at your waist, keeping you close to him.
You weren’t sure what the future held for you now, but you were sure that whatever it decided to throw your way, your vampire wouldn’t be far behind you.  
FIN
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WIBTA for making a formal complaint about the carer for a terminally ill child?
CONTEXT: I am a librarian at a private school in Europe. prior to me taking over the position three years ago, my predecessor established the library as a place where students could be supervised by her at nearly any time with less than five minute's notice. i hate this circumstance but naturally other staff like things this way so it keeps happening after I've asked for it to stop.
I was approached in December about this permanently extending to a student who is terminally ill (this is their last year being able to attend any classes). At the time I thought that their one-to-one assistant/support would be accompanying him to the library, is it is his job to be with that child nearly all day, except when he trades off with someone for breaks (the other person is mostly a substitute but has taken on 5 extra hours for this situation to work out). if there's someone with them, obviously they don't need me to supervise them and I can leave if i need to eat/go to the bathroom/etc. these "library breaks" aren't planned in advance, they're based on how their cognition is that day and stress levels in certain classes that have become more difficult as their condition worsens. I agreed to the situation with the understanding that I would be providing the space, not the supervision. everyone on their care team (class tutor, both carers, school nurse, home-school liaison) has first aid training and much more details on specifics of their condition.
The situation is that now the carer is dropping them to the library and then he is leaving. I've had to miss lunch multiple times in the past fortnight. i spend the time they're in the library alone with me terrified that something is going to happen and i won't be able to help. i hate being left for sometimes an hour in charge of this very ill and very vulnerable child. a few times he's left them with me while I've been teaching a workshop or working with other students. when the regular carer is with the kid (most of the time) they just show up and then he leaves. i don't get any notice. the substitute usually gives me a heads up at the beginning of a class period that they'll be there, but she also stays with them so there's no problem for me. the regular situation is extremely bad for me.
i want to complain formally about the carer doing this. the obvious consequences will be that he will be monitored to make sure he's not leaving the kid unattended and management will start doing spot checks. he may have to do extra courses at home on safeguarding. if anyone else has complained about him, he'll be put on a PIP.
i feel like i might be the asshole because I'm fairly sure library time and his lunch break are the only times that he gets any respite from the situation. he's been the carer for this kid for about five years and knows them really well, and the decline in their condition is hitting him really hard. he will not only lose the extra breaks but he'll gain more work and scrutiny than he's had before, during a really hard time in his life. i don't know what to do to improve my situation except complain, but I know I'll be making his situation way worse. please be harsh.
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topguncortez · 3 months
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“i’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same.” with rooster! please and thank you! :)
prompts list:) thank you for the request!
All of Rooster’s life he was told that everyone gets one “great love” in their life. His mother’s great love was obviously his father and the one reason why she never remarried. Rooster could remember when he was about 13 or 14, asking his mother why she never remarried. It had been over 10 years since his father’s passing and Carole had never so much as looked at a male the way she did Goose.
“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Carole told her son, a sad smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be fair to marry a man knowing I couldn’t love him the way I love your father. He was my great love… and I’ll never find another one like that.”
Bradley wondered if towards the end of her life, when she was alone in the house for those last couple of years when he was off at school, if maybe, just maybe she wished she had someone there. He asked her again, on one of the last good days she had, if she wished she had found someone to spend her life with.
Carole again, gave him a sad smile, “It wouldn’t be fair. There’s only one person I’ve been praying about seeing again.”
Bradley hadn’t realized it at the time, but the older he got, the more he envied what his parents had. “A Great Love” that was as if it came straight from a romance novel. “A Great Love” that held steady for years, despite his father being deceased for more than half of it. “A Great Love” that seemed to come so easy to them but for Bradley, was nearly impossible.
Except, it wasn’t impossible.
No, Bradley did have a “Great Love”, in the form of the neighbor girl who lived in the blue house next door. The girl who used to make mudpies with in the backyard. The girl who teased him relentlessly when he got braces only to end up with wires on her own teeth a couple of weeks later. The girl who is his best friend… and is currently crying on his couch over her now ex-boyfriend.
“A-And he was saying stuff and I-“ You sucked in a deep breath, trying to will the tears to stop falling down your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Ducky," Rooster said, using the age-old nickname, even though he wasn't in the slightest sorry. Sure, he felt bad that you got your heartbroken, but he was celebrating the fact that Douchebag Dan was finally out of your life, "You deserve better."
"I thought he was the one!" You sobbed, "He had me sending him ring options!"
And suddenly Bradley hated Douchebag Dan even more than he did fifteen minutes ago when you showed up at his doorstep.
"Hey," Bradley said shifting closer to you, his thigh touching yours, "You know what this means though, right," You looked up at him with big sad eyes and the most adorable wobble of your bottom lip, "Your great love is still out there."
You rolled your eyes, "I'm starting to think that's a hock of shit," You flopped back on the couch defeated, "I've dated three guys in my lifetime all for over two years and none of them have put a ring on my finger," You held up your hand, wiggling your ring finger, "It's just not going to happen. I don't have a great love."
"Sure you do."
"Where!?" You looked over at Bradley, "Where is mine?"
"Maybe, you're looking too hard for it. Maybe they're closer than you think," Bradley simply shrugged, reaching for his beer bottle on the coffee table.
"Yeah?" You quipped, "What about you? Have you met your 'great love'."
Bradley sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn't lie to you about this or hell, about anything, "Yeah," He admitted, "But she doesn't feel the same."
You felt a pang in your heart, causing you to sit up, pulling your legs underneath you, "Does she know?"
Bradley shrugged, "I think so. I mean, I-I've known her forever."
"Oh," You were trying to rack your brain of the potential girls that Bradley had his heart set on, "Do I know her?"
"Mhm," Bradley pursed his lips, taking another sip of his beer for he stupidly gave himself and his stupid crush away. A stupid crush that could mean the end of the longest, greatest friendship he has ever had. You were the one thing from his childhood that had managed to stick around. You were there when his mother died, when his dreams of following his father's footsteps came crashing down, when he got his acceptance letter to UVA, when he graduated flight school and got his wings, when he graduated from TopGun.
All the major memories that Bradley had, you were always right there. He couldn't let a stupid crush end that. He couldn't let his heart and his feelings complicate things. He couldn't-
"It's Phoenix, isn't it?"
Bradley spat his beer out of his mouth, coating the coffee table in sticky alcohol. Your eyes widened as he coughed and wiped the beer from his lips.
"What?" He choked out.
"Your great love," You muttered, "Is it Phoenix?"
"Hell no," Bradley shook his head, "That-that's crazy."
"Not really, she's pretty and you're around her all the-"
"It's you," Bradley cut you off.
You felt your heart stop in your chest as you stared at your best friend, "W-What?"
He sighed, hanging his head in shame, "It's you, Y/N. It has always been you. You are my "great love"."
"Bradley, I-"
Bradley shook his head, "I didn't mean to do this. Not when you're upset over Douchebag Dan, but. . .fuck, I can't take it anymore," He stood up from his spot on the couch, beginning to pace, "Watching you go with guys who have no idea what it means for you to look at them like they hung the fucking stars. To have you love them and kiss them and be with them day after fucking day. I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you."
Fresh tears were in your eyes as you looked at the man who is your best friend, "Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because I’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same," Bradley's big brown eyes shone with unshed tears, "And you're all I have left. I can't lose you."
"You won't lose me," You stood up from your spot on the couch, walking over to him, "Cause I love you too," You grabbed his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his lips.
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kiwicopia · 29 days
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Can we please have Megumi with a reader who just got cheated on? Maybe he's had a crush on her for a long time? 🫶🏿
Megumi x Fem!Reader
TW: mentions of cheating, childhood crush, fluffy ending.
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He wanted to wring your ex's neck for what he did to you, but he knew better to waste time on trash. Beating someone up wasn't what you needed at the moment. What you needed was a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to your ranting, and Megumi would certainly be the one to provide all of that.
Still, even as you kept ranting about your ex and catching him in the act, it just made Megumi want to hurt him that much more, yet he fought the urge. Instead, he slid an arm around you and pulled you closer against his side. "You don't need him, anyway," he told you. The man held back a scoff when you mentioned not being able to find someone better. "You will. Anyone is better than that guy. We both know that."
Truth be told, Megumi never liked your ex. Why would he? Not only did he cheat on you, but the guy always made you cry. How could he ever like anyone that made his best friend cry? His blood boiled at the thought as his jaw clenched slightly, though he quickly calmed himself. "I want to egg his car," you mumbled.
Megumi's lips curled into a small smile. "Egg his car? I think we could do better than that. We could fill it with bees," he suggested. You giggle but immediately shook your head. "It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt. He deserves it, you know."
"Yeah, but then he'd know who put the bees in his car."
"Not if you have an alibi," Megumi said. He was hellbent on doing something to your ex, but he knew you had to agree on the idea. "Could always use the jolly rancher method instead."
You chuckled and shook your head at the idea. "I feel like that would go horribly wrong for some reason."
"Oh, it will, for him," Megumi replied. You chuckled again, the sound pleasing to his ears. He missed hearing it. While you tossed out different ideas on how to get back at your cheating ex, he simply watched you, admiring you.
He had always felt wrong about loving you like he did, but he couldn't help it. Megumi had feelings for you, which anyone with eyes could see, but he always kept them buried down inside. Especially when you got a boyfriend. It was much harder keeping his feeling at bay then, but now that your ex was gone, he could let them out a little.
"What do you think, Megs?" You asked, your voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Good idea, right?"
He hadn't heard a single word you said, having lost himself in his own little thoughts about you, but he nodded. "Yeah, it's a good idea." His heart fluttered a little when you grinned and hugged his side, which only caused him to tighten his arm around you. "I love you," he whispered.
Megumi didn't mean to let it slip, but the moment was too good and pure to not let that thought loose. "You what?" You questioned.
"I love you," he repeated. Since the cat was out of the bag, Megumi felt just a little more confident with his confession. "I always have." His words were met by silence, and only then did he start to panic a little. What if he messed up? What if you didn't feel the same? What if you hated him for saying that?
"I love you, too, Megs," you smiled. Your words reassured him, and he mimicked your smile, only smaller. "I guess I've been denying it all these years."
Megumi hummed softly in response and nodded. "Well, you don't have to anymore." Maybe it was wrong since you were in such a vulnerable state, but he couldn't hold his feelings in long enough. Not while he had you in his arms like this. "I know I should've waited until you were better to tell, but it just slipped out."
"It's fine," you told him, burying your face into his side a little. His eyes softened and he let his fingers trace small circles against your arm. "I know you'd never hurt me."
That was the biggest difference between him and your ex. Your ex could cheat on you and make you cry without batting an eye. Megumi, on the other hand, would rather die than hurt you in any sort of way. It wasn't how he was brought up. That and he would get an earful from his sister if he ever did.
Megumi would be lying if he said he wasn't upset about the entire ordeal with your ex, but if not, then he never would have been able to tell you how he felt. Sure, he hated seeing you cry over someone as pathetic as your ex, but he enjoyed getting to be the one you came to, the one whose shoulder you cried on and, finally, the one he would love forever.
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