I'm a damn mess 😭😭 this was so beautiful but so damn painful 🧡😭😭
Synopsis: Your worst nightmare comes to life after you receive a call well after midnight that isn't from your husband Bakugou but about him. Rushing to the hospital you're thankful to find him alive but when he comes to he asks to see his wife despite you standing there.
Warnings: Angst
A/N & wc: just something quick I whipped up, 3.6k
This is what you wanted isn't it?
All along you begged the Gods for this.
Asking with hot tears streaming down your face that you wished that you weren't here. Not dead but that you never truly existed at all. That no one could remember you and it would be that much easier to be nothing in the wind.
The Gods have a cruel sense of humor, granting your wish, much to your dismay, at an extremely shitty time in your life.
The call comes in the middle of the night, another fear you've had since you married him. Worry clawing up your stomach as your clammy hands reach for the phone. It's Kirishima, it's just Kirishima. He just wants to chat right?
At 2am he just wants to ask about your day doesn't he?
Deep down in the very marrow of your bones you know that's not true. Not even able to fool yourself for a second as your groggy voice shakes with a weak "H-hello?"
Kirishima comes out and just says it. Explains it all but it's as if he's speaking a different language. You barely make out Bakugou and the name of the hospital before the ringing in your ears is deafening. He goes on for what feels like hours as your mind plays out grotesque, horrifying images of what may be left if your husband.
He never got hurt.
Ever.
He promised.
He fucking promised he'd be okay. He always does when he kisses you goodbye. When you say stay safe and he affirms with a hum and "I will. For you I will."
But you didn't say stay safe this time did you? No you spat insults at him, hormonal, pms fueled rage over something he couldn't even control.
He was a superhero. He should be able to control everything.
"Sweetheart, I'm fuckin late." Is what he growled and when he leaned in for a kiss. You leaned away.
"That's it. I'm coming to get you." Kirishima hisses about to hang up when you tell him you're fine. That you'll be there and he can go home to his own worrying and extremely pregnant wife.
You use your quirk, illegally, flying at the speed of light to get to the hospital. Rushing out the syllables of your new last name, Bakugou in such a rush the nurse asks you three more times before you spy Kirishima's hands running through his red mane as he steps outside an ICU room.
Pushing past the nurse, biting your tongue as you rush towards Kirishima. Ignoring his warning as he tries to catch you as you slip under his large arms. Through the heavy door and pulling past the curtain.
It's worse than you imagined and yet still not as bad. He's unconscious, an oxygen mask over his face but thankfully no tube snaking down his throat. You launch yourself at his side, the slow beep from the monitor by your head reassures you he was still breathing.
Still alive.
Your palms are clammy again as it all comes rushing into focus. With each beep comes new information piled on top of the other. First is the pungent smell of cleaner. Disinfecting anything and everything until it's bleaching the lining of your lungs. Then comes the cold, thick plastic of the bed handle beneath your hands. Groaning from your grip as your heart rate increases.
Beep
The stiff blankets, they're scratchy and all wrong. Bakugou doesn't like this type of "cheap shit". He's more high maintenance than you. He likes tightly woven or soft down comforters.
Beep
Red, the bandages on his chest are weeping red. So much fucking color clashing with the white gauze. That can't be right. It'll get on this stupid scratchy blanket. The sharp inhale brings in more sanitation, your breath becomes more shallow. Teeth grinding and competing with the sound ringing in your head.
Beep
It's dark, it's so fucking dark in here you can barely see. Where are his eyes? Why won't his eyes open? You're whispering his name so softly like you do when he's worked overnight and you're leaving for work by mid morning. His crimson eyes always open. Always crinkle when he says goodbye. Why can't you see his fucking eyes?
Beep
Why
Beep
Is he gonna..
Beep
"Hey." A solid hand clamps onto your shoulder pulling you out of your spiral. Bringing you to shore with his rough grip, "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
At some point Kirishima has pulled up the reclining chair for you, offering it silently with one of those stupid, shitty scratchy blankets. You feel your skin crawl and not from the low thread count.
Eyes flickering back towards your husband of three years.
Three whole years and he's just going to leave like this? Like a candle snuffed out by…by
By some damn extra?!
Kirishima watches your labored breathing, he is never going to go back on the promise he made his best friend and the one Bakugou made in turn.
"She's stubborn. Look after her if something fuckin happens."
"I'm staying with you. I'll ask the nurse to-"
"No!" It comes out too quick, too loud as you turn on him like a wild animal. For just a moment you can see it. Dully reflected in his eyes in this damned low light, your reflection. What he sees.
A scared little girl who's about to lose her shit.
You clear your throat, straightening your back before you breathe out deeply.
"Your wife is going to pop any minute. You need to be available for her." You say sternly, pretending this was something so much more mundane. Like you've missed the bus or the taxi Bakugou sent for you.
A small inconvenience, yea that's all this was. You were just going to be late, late to see Bakugou and-
"You're sure?" Thunderous voice threatens to crack, looking over his friend, making it harder on you.
"Yes. You're injured, yourself. Besides your paternity leave starts the second she goes into labor and as office manager I do have a say on that. In fact it starts now." There it is, there's that stern voice he's used to. The light scolding you've always given him and Bakugou for the last five years.
Kirishima seems to give it some thought, a lot of thought.
"Eiji, please I'll be okay." You smile up at him, lips twitching at how difficult it is to turn them upward when all you want to do is scream. Scream until the burn of bleach is replaced from the raw emotion that's bubbling up your throat.
The large man shifts his weight, debating giving you a hug and when he sees your body closed off, hands white knuckled on the bed frame he thinks better of it.
"You better call me if you need anything. At least give me that okay?"
"Okay." You appease him, still forcing the smile and hoping he'll get the fuck out.
Finally he does, staring you down with a soft goodbye and a stern I mean it that you wave off. Until finally he shuts the big, scary door.
Leaving you alone with that sound that is both reassuring and yet nauseating.
Beep
Beep
Beep
And this time you can't hold back the tears.
Crying enough tears to fill up two weeks. Almost drowning in the amount shed as the doctor reassures you he'll wake soon. He has healthy brain wave activity and he's breathing on his own.
"All good signs. Try more of his favorite music."
It's all they can say. All they can give you to cling onto as you replay your last words to him.
Hateful, cruel things.
Over the stupidest fucking fight.
"It's because you're still in love with her!"
Throwing insecurities in his face and for what?
Suddenly his heart rate monitor beeps loudly, quickly chirping the increase in speed as you watch his eyes move beneath his long lashes.
Before they flutter open, looking over at you with… with
With disgust.
Your heart hammers in your chest. Was he? Was he still mad at you?
"H-hey Suki." You go to reach for the hairs that cling to his damp forehead only to be caught in his deadly hot and tight grip, "Katsuki, you're hurting me."
His free hand rips the mask from his face as he looks over at you with harsh set eyes. The intensity weakened only by his groggy state.
"Don't use my given name." A threat that has your eyes watering, "I don't even fuckin know you."
He tosses your hand back into your lap as if you were trash, eyes narrowing to slits.
"Where's my wife?"
"I am your -" But he cuts you off.
"Where the fuck is Momo?!"
Momo, Bakugou's first wife, comes quicker than you'd like. Wrapping her arms around you, sickeningly sweet perfume chokes you out, almost drowning out the harsh chemicals of the room. She came straight from the movie set, long lavish dress fit for the Mafia Princess character she was playing in some new film.
The same very ex wife who you claimed Bakugou wasn't over. Gritting your teeth as she fusses over you, as if you were a delicate thing that could break any minute and not Bakugou who lies under that itchy blanket.
"Momo, darlin." He croaks and she visibly flushes. Rushing to him, spying the blanket as well before she's using her quirk to make something more to his liking.
"Baby why weren't you here?" You can hear the strain in his voice, the emotion he's biting back as she looks down at him confused, "Are you still filming that dumb super hero movie?"
"Bakugou-"
"Katsuki." He corrects sharply, even moving his mask that the doctors fought to put back on to make sure she heard it. Momo looks over her shoulder cautiously to gauge your reaction.
"Katsuki…" It feels odd to form the syllables on her tongue, "I finished that movie seven years ago…"
"Wha-what?"
"I'm also…Ba-" His glare causes Momo to correct herself, "Katsuki, doll, we aren't married anymore. We divorced. You're married to her now."
Momo pulls you into view and Bakugou stares at his ex and "current" wife.
A long, heavy moment of silence passes before the heart monitor beeps furiously. The smell of caramel permeating the room much too quickly before the doctor rushes in.
Just as Bakugou takes in a breath to start yelling, pulling at the mask and almost ripping out his IV his body goes slack. The doctor was barely faster than him, injecting him with something to lull him back to sleep.
Especially since explosives and oxygen did not mix well.
The doctor blinks rapidly having just caught the tail end of the conversation. Memory loss was normal, expected, but possibly six years or more…
Well that wasn't, even with his long history of concussions.
With the quick assessment he turns to the two women in the room. Debating on just how to go about this as bedside manner wasn't always his strong suit.
"What I'm about to say may be difficult for you two however keep in mind this is what is going to be best for the patient and his recovery. Since he is experiencing amnesia we will have to go along with what he thinks is true right now. Just like one would when someone has dementia. There will be less stress on his body if we indulge in his perceived reality."
"For how long?" Momo asks tentatively. Doctor Yashido takes a sharp inhale.
"Until his memories return."
"And how long will that take?" Two different tones ask in unison. One a frustrated bark the other laced with deep concern.
"Could be weeks. Could be months." He swallows thickly, Yashido never was good at delivering bad news and this was almost as bad as it gets, "If they ever return at all."
The hospital floor falls away from beneath your feet. Causing you to plummet into the deep dark depths. Questions buzzing in your head battling alongside the screaming. The sound echoes in your mind whipping up the thoughts of Bakugou having never loved you. Of Bakugou thinking so little of you, of finding you so fucking annoying, like the gnat you were he went and forced himself to forget the last three years of your marriage and taking it a step further by going back far enough to forget you existed at all.
Isn't this what you wanted? What you wished for that night? That you'd wake up and you hadn't existed at all?
Beep
This wasn't about you. Fuck this was about him. Would he be happier with Momo? He never really did say why they broke up. He always said it was "just mutual" and left it at that.
Beep
At least he was alive right? You could watch him from afar again. Watch the star rise as your feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.
Beep
You could forget he ever brought you up in the night sky to dance along with him. It would be easy right?
"Love." Momo calls for the third time, manicured hands on your shoulders, "Why don't you go home for some rest. And a shower."
You stare up at her blankly, at the doctor who gives a curious look before you slowly nod.
"Yea….yea that's a good idea."
Returning the next day proves painful as you see Momo has changed, stunning even in leggings and a cropped shirt. Even took the initiative to alter the decor of his ICU room. Soft yellow string lights, a humidifier, soft fluffy blankets and silky sheets that Bakugou might bleed on anyway if he didn't stop moving around so much.
It's awkward to stand in the corner and watch them interact. To watch everyone else interact with the man you so desperately wanted to see.
And wanted him to see you in return.
But he can't now, he doesn't even know your name. And everytime you come close to the bed he stares at you with such discontent, with suspicion as if you were the dirty liar in the room.
Kirishima falls back, bumping his shoulder into yours gently. You look up at him with deep bags under your eyes.
"Mina is worried about you, ya know. She says you can stay at our place if your apartment is too…much." He offers with a strained smile, you place another lip twitching half assed smile on your own mouth.
"I'll be fine."
Yet the late hours of the night, all alone in your too big apartment, curled into his pillow that is slowly losing the smell of him haunt you the most.
A few more weeks pass and even with Bakugou's restlessness the doctors argue with him about downgrading his stay to general admission. They instead move him from the ICU to the neurology floor, making this the longest Bakugou had ever been in the hospital to date. Meeting even more doctors that now talk to both you, for legal reasons and Momo, for Bakugou's fantasy, about his brain damage.
How there is hardly any and that there were many things about the brain that we as humans had yet to understand.
But that was his whole fucking job wasn't it? To study the brain and unlock its god damn mysteries. Not tell you you were shit out of luck and non-existent to your very real husband who was in such a twisted reality.
It's baffling to see his scans, to hear nothing is wrong. Painful to see the love in his eyes that shine for Momo and not a spark for you.
How odd it is to share your husband with his ex wife.
Sometimes you're brave enough to sit closer to him like you are today. Steeling your nerves against his harsh interrogation as if you were the nasty villain that put him here in the first place. Sitting second to Momo who holds his hand or smooths down his blanket. Watching the days bleed together as her once, almost forced and polite smile turns into something else.
Turns real, genuine.
It makes your stomach churn.
"The fuck are ya still doing here extra?" He hisses at you when he wakes from a nap, Momo shushing him. Scolding him about being rude and he counters.
"What's rude is that she fuckin exists! Why is she fuckin here, Sweetheart?" Your heart falls into your stomach. Throat closing up as your body rejects this.
Rejects everything, especially the sound of his nickname for you aimed at someone else. At someone you're stupidly jealous of. At someone whose fault this could never be and who has only ever shown you kindness.
Sent your flowers on your birthday.
Avoided hero galas the two of you went to.
"Katsuki!" No correction on his name now, Momo having settled into his given name once again and quickly at that.
"No, it's okay. I'll- I'll get us some coffee, Momo." You say abruptly getting up. Wanting comfort from no one but the man that just cut you with his sharp tongue.
He's just groggy. It's cause he's hurting. It's the meds that are saying that.
The same excuses echo through your head as you walk through the halls, air thick with intangible weight as you trudge towards the sludge machine painted in coffee labels.
You wondered what exactly the air was thick with. Grief most likely, of lives forever altered resting on the shoulders of sobbing loved ones who could barely hold themselves up but were now expected to carry the weight of the world.
Or maybe it was resentment, festering anger. Angry that this happened. Angry at God or the Gods or at no one in particular that let this happen to their loved one.
All you knew was that the air was thick with it. Smothering you with every futile breath you took.
Somehow you make it back to the room, muscle memory must have guided you back here. Toeing open the door that you left slightly ajar quietly.
Only to find a sleeping Bakugou, breathing even and heart rate lazy, slow. Momo sighs softly as she pushes his ash blonde hair away from his forehead murmuring ever so softly.
"Why'd I leave again?"
The paper cups in your hands crush easily. The scalding liquid burning in your hands as Momo startles from the sound. But nothing burns as badly as the angry tears you're holding back.
Maybe you should leave. Give these two their happily ever after.
Maybe everyone was right. Bakugou was a lot to handle. Mitsuki had said so herself. Saying you'd never be good enough for her son as long as you stayed weak willed.
Weak hearted.
"You won't last four years with my son. Mark my words. You'll give up on him because he's too good for you, Momo was the better fit."
She muttered them to you as she pulled the veil over your blurring vision before you walked down the aisle to her son.
You never did tell him. And now you never would.
Mind made up as you storm from the hospital room. Biting your lip until you tasted blood as you held yourself back. A war raging inside your head.
He's just lost his memories, that's all this is. No you fucking idiot his love for Momo was stronger.
Soon you're marching up the stairs to your shared apartment, almost snapping the key off in the lock from the sharp turn of your wrist. Rushing inside without bothering to remove your shoes as tears cloud your eyes. Threatening to fall in fat drops as you rummage through the closet for your suitcase. Stacking it haphazardly with random items in the room. A small painting, your charger, random clothes and jewelry. All the while murmuring to yourself before you bully your way into the en suite.
Gathering things here and there before you see it. The box catching your eye that has you instantly nausted.
It's quiet for a moment. The buzzing in your throat and head silenced by your intense concentration.
Before erupting with a raw scream shoving everything off of the granite in one foul swoop.
Shattering his expensive cologne and your pricy perfume onto the wood grain tile. The scents meld together reminding you of hot dinner dates the two of you never made it to. Too busy fucking on the vanity counter, staring at one another in the mirror. Now all that stares back at you is a ghost. Hollow eyes and a heavier heart.
Biting your lip you stare at the black box on the floor, torturing yourself by picking it up. The rectangular shape feels different in your hands, the rounded edges feel sharp as you gently unwrap the gift as if you didn't know what sat inside.
Two white tests. Neatly capped and set in tissue paper. Two solid pink lines on one test and the other written clear as day in digital text Pregnant
With finality you slam the box into the trash with such force the can falls over. The other several tests toppled out indicating the same thing. Confirming what your blood tests results in your voicemail echoed back to you from your OBGYN
Congratulations!
The sound of her voice rings in your head. Was it a "congratulations", was it really?
This is what you wanted right? A baby?
To not exist? To fall off the face of the earth?
Fate is a twisted and cruel thing, giving but always taking its hefty price as tears burn your eyes, bags packed leaving the once shared apartment.
The universe only gave you what you wanted right?
So congratulations, you got exactly what you wanted.
You were finally forgotten.
This is giving me HTTYD2 Vibes, "You're a beautiful as the day I lost you" like stop breaking my heart man 😭💔
Bakugou’s first love who’s temper and passion matches, no, exceeds his, because you had to fight twice as hard to earn things he was given, had to fight twice as hard to get a seat at a table he was born to. His first love, who’s outcast by hero society for carrying too much anger, for being too rough, too much.
For being Quirkless.
He never said it was love, but it was. He could feel it, knew you could too. Or at least, he hopes you could.
So after you disappear, there’s not a single day that goes by where he doesn’t think of you, well into adulthood. Little things like the flowers in the florist shop window that are the exact color of your old car, the way the city glows after a rainstorm.
He thinks it would be easier to forget you, to not have to carry the weight around with him all the time, and he hates himself for thinking it at all. Hates that he feels burdened by your memory instead of thankful he could tell someone exactly where every mole and birthmark sat on your skin, the different colors in your eyes.
It’s that perfect memory that confirms his worst suspicion when history begins to repeat himself, a new group of villains unhappy with society rising from the ashes of the last.
You’re clearly different, but he knows you. Knows the way you move, the tilt to your voice when you’re hiding that you’re wounded.
It’s the first time that his heart is at war with his sense of duty, but he keeps quiet about his suspicion regardless, needing to confirm everything for himself before he spoke up.
It’s a thin line he’s walking, but he assures himself he won’t cross it, no matter what.
And yet, when he finally catches you, unmasked and pinned beneath him, bloody teeth bared, he finds himself lifting enough for you to escape. He wants desperately to give chase, to catch you again, but he knows it’s not so he can bring you in.
It’s that realization that wakes him up, makes him take extended leave so he can track you down. Except he doesn’t have to.
You show up at his apartment one night, covered in shadows near the open window as he comes in, absently listening to Kiri worry about him over the phone. It takes everything in him not to hang up on his friend immediately when he sees you, freezing in place.
He should be angry, should be insulted that you, a wanted villain, had the audacity to show up in his home and silently watch him, but he’s not.
Part of him believes he’s finally lost it, chasing ghosts, so he calls out your name quietly, more of a breath than real words, but he can see the way your body reacts to it immediately, and all he can feel is relief crash around him.
There’s a heavy silence for a while, and then he takes a step forward. You stiffen, and in a blink, you’re gone, the only sign you were real to begin with a note telling him to stay away.
But he doesn’t. And neither do you. He knows you follow him, can feel watchful eyes on him, even if he can’t see you right away.
And then you show up in his apartment once more, clearly ready for a fight in the middle of his kitchen. There’s a glint of a knife in your hand, and he’s careful to move slowly as he sets down his groceries, hands splayed to show you he’s unarmed, as if he couldn’t kill you with one flick of his wrist. He calls out your name again, softly, like he’s talking to a wounded animal, and you can’t help the way your heart begs you to respond, even after so many years.
You shift, hesitate, and he straightens, takes a chance, and takes a step towards you. Your hand twitches, but you don’t raise it, don’t charge him. So he takes another. And then another. And then he’s within striking range, and your eyes are hard, angry in warning, but wide, like you’re lost.
So he steps closer. And you step back, knife falling from your hand and clattering to the floor. He presses forward until your back hits his kitchen island, and he’s leaning over you, knuckles white with the way they grip the marble.
You look panicked, fear brewing in your gaze when he raises a hand, eyes squeezing shut so you don’t see the blow coming.
Instead, he brushes your hair away from your face, and your eyes fly open in surprise, the large pro drinking you in, his eyes flicking over your form.
“I thought you were dead,”
His voice is softer than anything you’ve ever heard, rolling over you and bringing back memories long since repressed. He cups your cheek, thumb sliding over your skin as if to make sure you’re real, and you hate how good it feels, how much you’ve missed him, and then his gaze dips lower and he freezes.
Now that’s he’s able to be close to you, breathe you in, he sees what he’s missed before, hidden under stealth suits and large hoodies. From beneath your top curl ragged scars, curving and licking up along your throat and across your shoulders, more abundant than unmarred skin.
Your breath hitches as his fingers leave your face to trace over the scars on your collarbone, his face filled with anguish. His searching takes him lower, to the collar of your shirt where he pulls away, shaky hands falling to the hem as he begins to lift it slowly.
Your hands circle his wrist in warning, and he spares you a glance, his pretty eyes filled with silent pleas, and you give in to him, as powerless to him as you were when you were stupid kids believing you were in love. Your fingers fall away from his skin slowly to let him continue, heart hammering as you let the man you came to kill undress you.
He hesitates, inhaling deeply, steeling himself for what he might see before he tugs the cotton upwards once more.
His stomach twists in knots as you’re revealed to him, arching scars covering most of your torso, some clearly old, but far too many new, deep, and he can only imagine what you went through to earn such markings across your skin.
He can hardly find those moles and beauty marks he used to be able to map perfectly, now replaced with thick and jagged lines. He looks tortured, struggling not to let it show, but you see it anyways.
You can’t help the noise that bubbles from your throat when you lift your arms for him, a fresh wound beneath your left breast pulling painfully tight with the movement, and he clenches his jaw at the sound of your whimper, brows drawn low over his eyes.
When his palm lays flat against your stomach, measuring the expanse of your scars to his hand, the former reaching out far further, you squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back.
You never wanted him to see you like this, and in that very moment, you wished you were dead like he’d assumed, rather than a broken shell of who he used to love.
He’s silent as his hands wander, their warmth seeping into your skin and settling on your hips, fingers splayed wide. He lets out a shaky huff and you finally peel open your eyes as he drops to his knees, his breath warm over your skin, moments before his mouth presses over your flaws.
He doesn’t miss the way you inhale sharply, hazy eyes focused down at him kneeling at your feet, mouth ghosting across your body.
He traces a path upwards, his hands keeping you grounded as you arch against him, goosebumps rising in the wake of his ministrations. He deviates from his path only once, to press a feather soft kiss against your newest wound, and you hiss, fingers flying to tangle in his hair.
It shouldn’t hurt so much, but his mouth feels like a brand, his nose brushing along the underside of your breast, lighting a fire within you that you had assumed died long ago. He murmurs out something you don’t quite catch against your skin before he returns the drag of his mouth between your breasts, up until he’s pressing kisses against your jaw, his forehead bumping against your cheek as he shakes his head.
He exhales shakily again, and you tilt your head ever so slightly, needing to see him, needing to see the disgust, the pity in his eyes. You need him to give you a reason to push him away, a reason to hate him so neither of you start something you can’t finish.
But all you see is a quiet fury buried in those crimson eyes, smothered by a emotion you’ve only ever seen in those very eyes the last time you’d seen him. You’re not ready to admit what it is yet, denial flooding you even as your mind supplies the word.
Love.
It’s like all the air rushes from your lungs, and you’re sure in that very moment, if it wasn’t for his firm grip, that you’d simply crumple under the weight of your realization.
He draws you back to him, nose bumping yours when one of his hands cups the back of your head, fingers burying themselves in your hair. He opens his mouth and immediately closes it again, breathing in sharply through his nose before he speaks again, eyes shutting.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
And just like that, you can’t resist his pull anymore, closing the distance as the first tear rolls down your cheek.
I need to call my husband 🫠🫠🫡
Bakugou loves the pitiful whine you make against the curve of his neck when you get tired riding him. Your arms unable to hold yourself up any longer as you press your chest to his, thighs tighten on either side of his hips as you trap the building heat between your bodies.
He loves the way you feebly roll your hips, tired from the exertion as you continue to seek out that delicious friction. The movement barely enough as you throb around his cock, huffing as he lets you sulk a little longer. Strong, calloused palms stroke your thighs as he presses a kiss to the side of your face.
He loves it, because it means you need him to help get yourself off— because you can’t do it without him. No matter how many fingers you shove inside your drooling cunt or how fast you spin circles against your puffy clit it can never compare.
“Please, Katsuki.” You breathe against his neck, warm lips pressed against his pulse point as he finally decides to take pity on you. His hands smooth along your skin before he wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest as he plants his feet on the bed.
“Can’t even cum without me, hah?” He grins against the side of your face as he starts a brutal pace, skin echos against skin as your nails claw at his shoulder blades, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You just need someone to take care of ya, don’tcha?”
And what Bakugou loves more than anything else is the pretty face you make when he makes you cream all over his cock.
He rasps, “I got you pretty girl, just cum for me—”
And you always do.
Spells Fired
Growl
DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX
With: Tamaki Amajiki
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?
A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.
Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard.
It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.
The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.
The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.
He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.
Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.
He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.
He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could.
A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.
Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.
He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.
So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak.
“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.
“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.
“Whatcha up to?”
Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”
“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow.
A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”
Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.
“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”
He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.”
“Yes what?”
He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”
The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”
He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”
You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”
He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.
He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘
You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”
You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”
Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery.
“Well are you doing it right?”
He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”
“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.
But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.
You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”
The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.
“N-Now what?”
“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”
He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.
You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”
He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”
You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”
His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.
You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”
He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.
“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”
His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.”
“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”
He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”
“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.
You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”
He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”
Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”
Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.
Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”
You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.”
You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”
You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”
Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.
Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.
His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin.
“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”
“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”
His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”
The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”
“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”
He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”
You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”
A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”
“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.
At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.
You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”
He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”
His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements.
“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.
You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.
Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.
“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him.
He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.
His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.
The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”
“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.
“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.
It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.
“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”
It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.
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I'm a moron who forgot to do tags 🥺😭😂
Clouds of Rain
Neteyam X F!Reader
Part 3 of Clouds Series
Summary: Everyday you and Neteyam get closer, but now he's seen a side you want to hide
Warning: Toxic parents, a little angst, fluff moments between Neteyam and Reader, Neteyam and Reader are eyeing eachother 👀❤️
When the day had started, distant sounds of thunder echoed around the forest. Shadows crept across the moss covered floor as a storm rolled in. Many Na'vi relished in the rain, the prosperity it brought to the food and animals almost seemed mystical, but to you it brought a sorrow.
You weren't allowed out of your families tent on stormy days, even though you were seen as a grown adult, you were unmated, uncourted, so therefore, still a child in your parents eyes.
You longed for the sunshine and blue skies, but Eywa seemed to want a day of rest and restoring water to the cycle of life. "(Y/N)! Come here at once!" Your mother's voice cut through your day dream as you stared out into the vast mist of rain in the distance.
You stood from your position and walked with small steps to your mother. Your youngest sibling, a boy the age of three, sat in her lap fast asleep. You wished you could curl up like that, remembering the days she would coo at you and kiss you sweetly, that changed when more siblings came along and suddenly you couldn't do anything right in her eyes.
Kneeling in front of her, she spoke,"You are to go get us some fruit from the gathering circle, be quick, you are to come straight back, do you understand," her tone left no answer needed, it was a demand.
You nodded, going to stand but her hand tightly grapsed your wrist, pulling you back around to face her, her dull yellow eyes hard. "Answer me girl!" "Yes mama," you quietly spoke, eyes meeting her face but not her eyes, she hated when you looked at her in the eyes.
Releasing you, she waved you off and you quickly turned and hurried out. It wasn't usual for Na'vi to be abusive to their children, yet it wasn't unheard of. Your parents just happened to check every mark there was, verbal, emotional, mental, and physical. It just depended on their mood of the day to determine how your day would end.
Reaching the gathering circle, you picked the nicest looking fruit that you hoped would appease her rath, you began to walk back with it bundled in your arms, only to run smack into another person.
The fruit got squashed between both bodies, the juice sticking to your arms, chest and stomach, your mouth slightly open in shock. That was unexpected, but then again you were rushing with your head down.
"Oh Great Mother, I'm sorry!" Neteyams voice made you jolt up to meet his eyes, his face worried as he realized he ran into you. Just another foolish episode it seemed.
"(Y/n)! I'm so sorry, let me help you," Neteyam reached down to grab the fruit, but it unsavable at that point. You covered your mouth with a soft laugh, not wanting to upset the man in his rush to help you.
"Its alright Neteyam, no harm done," you assured, a smile gracing your lips. Neteyam was a light in your gray world, he could do no wrong in your eyes. The thought of the fruit left your mind, now focused solely on spending time with Neteyam.
"Come," you helped him up, his words stumbling over each other as he tried to figure out how to help, "B-but your fruit? Let me, let me help," you shook your head, waving it off, "There will be more fruit, but let's go get washed up," he let you drag him away, the fruit left forgotten on the floor.
Mother would not be happy later.
~.~
Laughing as you two walked up the edge of the village where vases of water sat, you let go and approached the water. Cupping your hands together, bringing the cool water to your face and neck, you breathed in a sigh of relief and shut your eyes, the water doing good to help rid the sticky fruit and seeds that stuck to your skin.
Neteyam allowed his eyes to trace over each water droplet that ran down your soft skin, going where only his eyes could imagine and where he wished he could touch too. Oh to be envious of water.
"Aren't you going to wash up?" Your soft voice broke his concentration, eyes looking to your face and seeing your glowing green eyes staring at him with your eyelids lowered, a look you weren't trying to give him but his thoughts quickly wondered and this caused him to rush forward, almost dunking his head into the water to cool himself off.
You giggled, having noticed his look from before and allowed your own eyes to slowly rake over his flushed body. His years of training doing wonders for him, the muscle and strength he held made your tail flick a few times before you willed it to stop and wrap around your leg.
"I am sorry, for ruining your fruit," Neteyam wiped his face of water, looking down at you though you smiled.
That pretty smile made him weak.
"Its alright, there will be more fruit later," you looked up at him, "let me make it up to you," he offered, though you grew confused. How would he make it up to you? Why did he feel the need? It was only a few pieces of fruit, surely you could replace it on your own.
"Oh? How?" You asked, arms crossing and staring at him intrigued, your hip jutting out a little causing him to gulp, trying to focus back on you as a whole.
"That's for me to worry about, now, let's go grab you some more fruit," he placed a small kiss to your head as he walked by, your face flushing as you trailed after him.
It was true you had kissed him before, a few weeks ago before he took you flying on his Ikran, but since then it had only been longing stares and a few light touches. A whisper here and there in the others ear, both of you too scared to ruin what you had going on. Scared that your realities would be crushed by the world if the true feelings were spoken out into the air.
~.~
Arriving back at the gathering circle, Neteyam grabbed new fruit to replace the ones he messed up, placing only one in your arms and he carried the rest.
"Oh no, Neteyam I can carry It really," you begged, not wanting him to follow you home. Not to the horrors that may await you. "Nonsense, allow me to help you, it was my fault," he grinned, not picking up on your worried tone.
It seemed he didn't have to, for your father's voice cut throught the air like a knife. "(Y/n)!" His deep, growl like voice caused you to freeze, Neteyam frowning when he saw the fear plaster on your now pale face. His eyes glanced behind you where two figures were appearing.
"Papa," you greeted, turning where the tall, brooding Na'vi man stood. He was one of the best hunters in the clan, your younger brother, only three years younger than you, trailing behind him with a small, smug look.
Your brother quite enjoyed when you got in trouble, but that's only because he himself didn't have to bare your father and mother's disapproving gaze.
"What are you doing? Your mother has been waiting and here you are, goofing off and laying around like you always do," Your fathers eyes made you shrink, head down into your shoulders hoping to disappear.
Neteyam placed himself between you both, chest puffing up to match your father. He didn't like how dull your eyes got, he hated how you tried to shrink instead of stand tall. "The fault is mine, sir, take it up with me. Leave your daughter out of this," Neteyam hissed, his tail lashing at the thought of what this man would say or do to you, his own child.
Your Father seemed to realize who he now faced, eyes narrowing suspiciously as they darted between Toruk Maktos oldest son, the future leader of the clan and his own child, his only daughter and oldest child.
The way the young man stood in front of you, challenging him to dare say another word had your father ask,"Who are you to tell me how to talk to my daughter? Have you courted her, mated with her," he knew the answer, but your father wanted to prove a point.
"No sir, but the fault is mine. I caused her to drop fruit and helped to clean her up, so any qualms you have you can deal them with me right now," Neteyam promised, knowing that the fact you two really weren't together stung, but he would defend you no matter what. He loved you that much.
It seemed as though Eywa had a saving grace, his own father, Jake Sully, appeared. "What's going on here?" Jake looked narrow eyed to the hunter in front of him, he knew (F/N) well, the man was very strict and harsh, but one of the best hunters to the clan.
You rushed forward, tired of all the arguing and not wanting a whole fight to break out. "Neteyam was helping me with fruit, I was clumsy and dropped it," you spazzed through your words, not turning to meet either Sully mens eyes behind you, focusing on your father instead, scared of what he would say more or do.
"I'm sorry Papa, I will be more careful from now on," Your father didn't want to cause a bigger scene infront of his Olo'eyktan, so he called for your brother to take the fruit who glared at you as if you had asked him instead of your father. "We will speak at home," your father leaned down close and threatened, eyes of green, though darker than your own, stared right through you. His words a silent threat that more than talking will be done at home.
"Yes Papa," you submitted, ears pulled back in fear and humiliation. Fear of what your father would do. Humiliation that Neteyam had to witness you like this.
Your Father and brother stomped away, your shoulders tense as you turned to see both men staring at you sadly.
"Thank you for helping me Neteyam, I'll see you around," you hurried out, words like mush as you trailed off into the direction your family had gone to.
"(Y/n)-" Neteyam reached out, but his father's hand on his shoulder stopped him, a huff of defeat in his lips as you disappeared from view.
"Give her some space, (F/n) is not one to mess with, getting her in more trouble may not be a wise case," Jake instructed, Neteyam clicking his tongue in annoyance and anger.
"(Y/n) shouldn't be suffering with them! It was my fault that the fruit fell, she shouldn't have to pay for that," he felt himself become hostile every second that passed, now beginning to pace in front of his father.
"(Y/n) deserves to be free! She is a grown woman, not a pet or a child!" He cried, Neteyam turning his body, eyes gazing after your invisible figure one last time.
"She so gentle, I want to watch her float on the clouds, not be tied down," Neteyam whispered.
~.~
Taglist: (there is a lot of yall 🤣)
@jaymiemallari21 @ssc7514 @itsemy01 @zbeez-outlet @danamq1 @cwufst @sourpatches111 @eywas-heir @heaven1oo4 @neteyamforlife @naynay2808 @msjae @ultimatebluff @jjkclub @ksata @otukirey @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @teyamdefender17 @tejas-kris @serpientez @thexplosivegirl @inluvwithneteyam @dead-28 @brooklynscherry-z @weridpersonhelp @he110hon @rainbowsocks @andromets @awriana @alldaladiesloveleooo @loves1ckgirl @pixiexdusts-world @yagirldd @wwwellacom @melllinaa @dreamingsmile @starstruckmentalitypaper @velvetskies @mxrgodsstuff @ambla-nezie @wiltedkyinn @giannadodson @glowbugsblog @boggiesho @mentallyillartist @hastalapastayuh @
@honeyluvsblog @blairrrrrr @heluvsst4rgir1
Me when people try to take my food
Hi! I just found "Come Back" and I absolutely hate it how good it was! Ugh my heart. :( Was wondering if there's going to be a sequel/part 2?
Hi! I'm so sorry I never saw this until today! I've thought about doing a sequel but I feel like sometimes you've just gotta let stuff go 🥰🥰
Oh god I'm hooked. ❤💋💯
Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.
Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!
Asshole!
He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?
Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!
That fucking asshole.
He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.
So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.
You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.
Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"
And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.
A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.
Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."
Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.
"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"
Ugh totally fucking cringe.
There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.
But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.
"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."
Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.
Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.
You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.
As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.
He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.
It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.
For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.
Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.
"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.
"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.
"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.
His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.
By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.
This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.
What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.
Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.
"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."
He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.
He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.
A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.
A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.
"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.
"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.
The fucking Red Riot.
Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.
Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.
"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.
Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.
"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."
Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.
Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.
"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."
Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.
"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"
You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.
Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.
"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"
For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.
But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.
His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.
"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."
Querenica
(Spanish) A place where one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; The place where you are your most authentic self.
Soo first time writing in a long time (Like since 2013? 2014? My poor tween self). Open to critiques. Just wanna do some angst and a little fluff because ya know. We love crying 🥰
MIRIO TOGATA X F!READER
__________________♡♡♡_________________
"MIRIO!"
"FORGET ABOUT ME! GET ERI OUT OF HERE!"
"I WONT LEAVE YOU DAMMIT! WE PROMISED TO DO THIS TOGETHER"
"I KNOW, BUT THIS IS BIGGER NOW. PLEASE (Y/N) JUST GET HER OUT!"
_________________________________________
° You could still remember the day perfectly as if it was yesterday. The day everything had shifted, turning your world upside down as you could barely wrap your head around the new surroundings and emotions that flew by as you gazed up at the new school. Well, one could only feel so much at the ripe age of eight.
"Are you ready to venture inside?" Your mother, (M/N) asked with a smile, squating down beside you as your small hands clenched at your (F/C) skirt, not able to maintain eye contact. "(Y/N)? It'll be okay, you'll get to make new friends and learn more interesting facts about your favorite subjects," (M/N) tried to put you at ease but there was only so much you can do for a child whose natural, shy nature made it difficult for new transitions and surroundings.
You tried to relax your hands but failed as you gazed up your mother, (E/C) eyes a shade darker than yours staring back warmly, "But won't the other kids make fun of me? My quirks not very show worthy..Maybe we can try again next year?" You had pleaded hopefully, not wanting to leave the comfort of your home without your Mother. (M/N) could only sigh, running a hand softly through your (H/C) tresses, "I'm sorry my sweet girl, Mommy can't homeschool you anymore, I know it'll be strange since it's half way through the first of the year but you'll see," she smiled wide at you, and you couldn't help but smile back too, gaining confidence from her that made your heart warm so much that the flowers of purple and blue next to you sprung to life and bloomed. "Even the flowers agree too," (M/N) laughed as your face turned a soft pink from embarrassment, still not having full control over your quirk. Grabbing your hand softly, your mother stood up tall and gently led you inside, the new adventure waiting for you beyond the doors.
~
"Alright! Everyone settle down we have a new student joining us, come on in" The teacher announced, glancing toward the doorway where you stood frozen, heart racing at the thought of having to introduce yourself now an overwhelming feeling. 'Maybe if I run I can catch Mom?' You thought, but thinking back to her warm eyes and smile, you swallowed and walked in, looking down and trying to ignore the dozens of eyes staring at you. "Introduce yourself my dear," The teacher smiled at you, hoping to ease your anxiousness.
Finally gaining the confidence to look up, you looked around warily at the new faces. Some looking interested, others bored, a few who seemed a mixture of both depending on your introduction. "H-Hello there..My name is (L/N) (F/N), I hope we get along," you'd manage to squeak out, hands tense at your side as you bowed, looking back up as some people gushed over your now pink face. "How cute~!" "She's so flustered!" "Her hair is so pretty~! "Wonder what her quirk is?" Were a few you heard right away, making you smile nervously as your hands found your skirt again. "Calm down everyone, (L/N) you may take your seat in front of Mirio, Mirio raise your hand," a boy with bright blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and a warm smile greeted you as you made your way to your seat.
Nodding your head in thanks, you sat down and got out your flower covered notebook and sunflower pencil, beginning to take notes as the lesson began. A warm feeling creeping over your back, turning slightly to see the boy, Mirio, smiling at you with an inquiry gaze, head in his hands as he leaned in close. Flustering again, you quickly turned around hoping to have not been caught, but the same couldn't be said for the boy behind you, whose interest in you seemed to just grow more.
~
Outside break time seemed to come so fast yet so slow as you walked around, finding shade beneath a tree as you breathed in the fresh air, your body seeming to glow around you as the plants nearby leaned toward you, almost as if you were the sun itself. It was so peaceful and relaxing, true harmony as you let a smile grace your features. If only it could stay like this-
"HEY THERE!" A sudden voice cut through the air as you jumped, screaming in shock and falling backwards into the tree. "Oh gosh I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to frighten you, honest!" Opening your eyes, you glanced up to see Mirio, the boy from class in front of your with a smile still gracing his features. "(L/N) right? I'm Mirio Togata! Nice to meet you," he kept his smile up, holding a hand out to you to help you up. Accepting his hand, you stood up, trying to look around anywhere but him as your nerves came back again for the thousandth time.
"Uh, you alright there? Didn't knock any screws loose I hope?" He laughed, leaning in closer to you. The warmth that glowed from him seemed to rival the sun, and you couldn't ignore it any longer as you looked up at him, a small smile now reaching your face too. "He-Hello, it's nice to meet you too," your smile glowed back at him, just as radiant as his is.
"Hey I got a question for ya. Do you like Heros?" Mirio asked straightforward, wanting to get to know you better right of the bat. The question took you by surprise because, yes, you didn't just like Heros, you loved them. You simply nodded, nerves relaxing a little as a breeze blowed by. "Awesome! Say, you've gotta come meet my friends, we can talk about Heros until we go back inside! Oh, maybe we can even continue at lunch! If you wanna sit with us that is, maybe even after school. Wait you might be busy," he rambled off, suddenly excited it appeared to have a new friend.
You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, your hand coming up to block your mouth to stop yourself since you didn't wanna come off as rude. "Sorry, got carried away a bit huh?" Mirio laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as his non wavering smile kept to his face. "It's okay, I don't mind," you answered back, (E/C) eyes meeting Mirios blue ones as you stared, perhaps longer than you should've.
The bell from the school filled the air, causing you to jump, the grass beneath your feet suddenly growing and towering over you and Mirio. "WOAH!" Mirio exclaimed, surprised at the sudden growth spurt of the grass. He looked at you with wide eyes, wondering if this was your quirks doing. It only made sense, seeing as how it was just you two around.
You blushed, hands to your skirt again as you looked down embarrassed. "Sorry, my quirk goes off if I have a sudden spike of emotion sometimes," you explained, glancing up at Mirio who could only grin at you wide eyed, "THATS SO COOL! Can you only manipulate grass? Or is it all nature? Just plants? You've gotta tell me more," he gushed, his hands clenched into fists, excitement pouring out of him.
You'd never seen someone so intrigued by your quirk before outside of your family. It caused a warm feeling in your stomach and chest, slowly pouring out into the rest of your body as you and Mirio exited the tall grass, now able to see the school yard and other kids who were walking inside to resume lessons.
"So what is your quirk? If you don't mind me asking," Mirio inquired, hands on hips and his warm smile on display as always. "I don't mind, uh to put it simply it's just a nature quirk, I-I can control any of plants around me, especially flowers. I really like flowers," you gushed back towards the end, a bright light in your eyes and a beautiful smile dawning your lips as you looked over to Mirio who could only gleam back too. "Thats so cool! You could definitely become an amazing Hero with that!" "Really?" "Definitely, come on let's go, you gotta meet my friend Tamaki Amajiki, he'll be so excited to meet you!" Mirio grabbed your hand and ran off back to the school, you dragging behind him and noticing how the sun bounced off him as if he were the sun itself. A smile rested upon your face as the warmth continued to spread across your body. In a way, it almost felt, Homey.
_________________________________________
"Hey Mirio?"
"Yeah (Y/N) what's up?"
"Can you promise me that we'll work together as Heros? I don't know what I'd do without you, Tamaki or Nejire,"
Mirio couldn't help but laugh at you, your young, first year of high school face becoming pink as you gazed upon your long time friend and crush. "Of course we'll work together! I couldn't think of anyone more fitting to be my Hero Partner," he posed, a big grin plastered on his face as he looked at you, both of you standing just outside the U.A gates.
"S-So you promise? Anything we do, we do together right? As a team?" You gushed, leaning in towards Mirio who nodded, "Always (Y/N) now come on, the guys won't wait for much longer. We gotta go.." he trailed off, leaning towards you to finish his call out. "Plus Ultra?" You laughed, "No! We gotta go fast! Seriously we gotta go, the train is due to to leave in ten minutes!" He realized, grabbing your hand and rushing off, the same warmth erupting through you again as your hands meet. You sighed contently, nothing could ruin this moment.
Until, we return to the present that is...
_________________________________________
"MIRIO!"
"FORGET ABOUT ME! GET ERI OUT OF HERE!"
"I WONT LEAVE YOU DAMMIT! WE PROMISED TO DO THIS TOGETHER!"
"I KNOW, BUT THIS IS BIGGER NOW! PLEASE (Y/N) JUST GET HER OUT!"
You could barely breathe as you stared at Mirio, his costume torn, his cape draped over Eri who couldn't even move she was so terrified. The blood from Mirio caused your heart to clench at the mere thought of him in pain.
"I WONT LEAVE YOU," You shouted back, leaping from the ledge and landing next to Eri who had tears flowing down her cheeks as she could only stare in fear and uncertainty to both of those who had hurt her and came to help her.
"Oh? A new player has come to join hm?" Chisaki Kai muttered, eyes roaming over your body as you shielded Eri from gaze, Mirio a few feet ahead and breathing heavily. "Ya know I would say if you weren't diseased you'd be very attractive, possibly worth studying with that quirk of yours, Antheia, but you must be cleansed," Chisaki muttered, hands on the ground again as he disassembled and reassembled at a mass rate, you grabbing Eri and dodging as Mirio tried his best to handle Chisaki, his quirk now gone unknown to you.
"Mirio! I'll fight, you take care of Eri," you cried out, nearing Mirio who both dodged and protected you and Eri. "As long as he threatens you, I'll fight," Mirio gritted his teeth, fed up with Chisaki and his twisted ways. Reaching into your pouch, you pulled out a few lavender seeds, throwing them out and activating your quirk, allowing the seeds to grow and blossom, their scent extra powerful to make those around fall asleep. Hoping to get it to Chisaki, you grabbed Mirio at the last second, hand sinched around his hand as you pulled him back a few feet, away from Chisaki who could only chuckle, "nice try, but not good enough," as he assembled a spike behind you, Mirio noticing last second and throwing his body weight to the side, causing your still clasped hands to swing you around, dodging it with Eri still wrapped in your arms, shaking.
Mirio could barely stand, nearly collapsing against you but tried to stay strong. 'I can't back down, not yet. Not until this disgusting man is down and out. I have to protect them,' Mirio thought, adrenaline running high as he glanced at you.
You were a warm becon that filled his life, he's never felt more real, more natural around anyone else but you. You make him want to be better, you make him want to push himself to be himself and no one else. The best he can be. Yet you're standing here, wanting to stand beside him like you've always done, but how can he let you do that knowing you can cost your life too. He wants to be selfish, hide you away from everyone so you won't get hurt. He knows what you're capable of, the power you hide from everyone not wanting to draw attention. Power you've only shown around him through trust and respect outside of school and training. Nows the time to show it to the world.
"(Y/N)" Mirio mumbled next to you, making you glance at him yet still wary of Chisaki. "Deku and Sir should be here soon, lets show Chisaki what we're made of until they get here," he grinned, the stupid grin of his that made tears well up your (E/C) eyes as you nodded, gently placing Eri down behind you, sending her a sweet and strong smile of your own.
What seemed to drag on for hours was only mere minutes of you and Mirio throwing blow after blow and receiving blow after blow from Chisaki. As long as he didn't get Eri you'd be fine. Even as blood dripped down your temple from where you were slammed down and your vision blurred, your only goal was to keep Eri and Mirio safe. Just as Mirios was to keep you and Eri safe.
The next few minutes seemed to blur, between Midoriya and Sir showing up. Your body trying to give out into Sirs hug, the last real hug you never knew you'd ever get from him. The memories blurring as you and Mirio trudged out with Eri in tow. Before you could register what happened, your body dropped to the ground, Eri and Mirios faces of concern being the last you see before darkness consumes.
~~~
Images blur together as you come out of unconsciousness. The strong scent of disinfectant spray and rubbing alcohol makes its way to you, the smell both welcoming and alarming. Opening your eyes you notice Aizawa-Sensei by the door, you slowing attempting to sit up as he walks in, "Aizawa- Sensei! What's going on? Where's Mirio? Eri? Is everyone alright," you gushed out, head suddenly pounding, causing you to groan and grab your head. "Take it easy (L/N), it's alright. You're safe, everyone's safe now," he calmed you down, your head still pounding as you nodded with the new information. "So then, Midoriya, Sir Nighteye, they got Chisaki? Are they recovering from their wounds too?" You asked, looking up at him with (E/C) eyes showing hope that everything can now return to normal once everyone's healed. Yet, as Aizawa looks else where you can't help but ask, "What's wrong? Everyone is okay right?" The words that come out of his mouth next has you up, IVs ripped out as you ran out the room, Aizawa chasing after you.
~~~
Heart pounding in your head, you turn a corner, tripping over your feet sending you tumbling to the ground. Yet you got back up and kept running, catching a green haired boy, also known as Izumi Midoriya, by surprise as you ran up. "Midoriya! Please tell me its not true," you cry, tears welling up as you clench his hands.
He could only stare back at you, his own tears glimmering into his lash line too. "I'm so sorry (L/N)-Senpai, but..S-Sir Nighteye is...is," he couldn't finish the sentence, choking back a sob as your tears run down your face. Letting go of his hands you bring yours to your face, hoping to cover up your pitiful sobs that seem to echo the now quiet hallway. "W-Wheres Mirio?" You choked out, Aizawa now caught up with you. His hand softly grabs your shoulder, curling his arm and bringing you into his chest. He may not be a very affectionate man, but you were one of his more favorite students. Seeing you like this broke his heart. "Lets go this way (L/N). It'll be okay," he mumbled into your hair as he gave your shoulder a squeeze, leading you down the hallway away from Midoriya who was now joined by All Might.
Midoriya and All Might could only stare in sadness as they watched one of the Top 4 students of UA break down. First Mirio as he witnessed Sir Nighteyes passing in person, and now you as you woke up too late to say goodbye and having to realize that you'll never get the chance like they did.
~~~
Aizawa knocked on the hospital door, a silence followed for a few seconds before a soft "Come in," was heard from inside. Opening the door Aizawa saw Mirio sitting on his hospital bed, a smile plastered to his face. "Whats up Eraserhead?" He questioned, almost as if his whole life didn't go up in flames merely 12 hours ago. "Mirio, are you up for a visitor? This person could really use your help right now," Aizawa inquired, hoping that you two could heal eachother like you always seemed to do.
"Sure, who is it?" Mirio asked, head tilt. Aizawa didn't answer, merely turning his head to the doorway where you stood, hospital gown and all. Your eyes red from tears that had slowed down but still hadn't stopped yet.
Mirios face grew concerned, he stood up the best he could and hobbled over to you. Resching his hands out he pulled you into his chest. Your heart breaking all over again as you sobbed into his chest, Mirio tightening his arms around you. Aizawa simply nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.
"It'll be alright, (Y/N). We'll be okay, I promise," Mirio whispered in your ear, your sobs into his chest becoming quiet as he soothed you. "Sir Njghteye deserved so much more," you whimpered out, looking up at Mirio with glossy eyes that pulled at his heart strings. "I know, but we'll get better from here on out," he smiled, his voice soft instead of its usual loud and booming self. "Why are you holding it in Mirio?" You questioned, seeing right through his facade as he tensed. "I've cried my tears, you can let yours out with me it's alright," he promised, yet you could see the guilt, remorse, hurt and pain swirling inside.
You guided him over to the bed, sitting down with him as you took his hands into yours. "You may have cried but that doesn't mean you healed that quick, Mirio," you softly spoke, hand reaching up to graze his cheek softly and cup it. He could only watch mesmerized by your beauty as the morning sun beamed through the window, giving you an even more Homely glow than before. "You can fool them Mirio, but not me,"
His eyes suddenly had a pressure upon them and he couldn't help but clench his fists and eyes in anger and distrsught as he yelled out suddenly in a sob. The grief of not being strong enough to save Sir hitting him at once. The pain of knowing he lost his quirk surrounding his body, becoming heavy. The sudden empty feeling of knowing all those years were sudden lost in a sea and he was drowning.
Your hand caught him by surprise as he looked up, your smile soft and glowing, yet also full of sadness. "Don't hold it up inside. We can face it together," You spoke, his body suddenly tackling you down onto the bed as you gasped, cheeks a soft pink. As he shook, quiet tears pouring down his face he whimpered to you, "(Y/N)..Thank you...Thank you for letting me show my true feelings with you,"
You smiled, hands running through his hair. A soft kiss was placed upon his forehead as he looked up shocked, yet you could only giggle at his pink face. "I know it's not the time, but maybe in a while you'll let me voice my true self too?" You questioned, knowing that the boy healing could maybe have something to be the light at the end of his tunnel. His smile, warm and Homey filled the room again, this time authentic through and through. "Only if you let me voice mine too,"
__________________♡♡♡_________________
Okay sooo. What did yall think? Yes, no? Maybe so? It's been years since I've written anything to please be nice with the critiques 😭🥰 Also can I just say that Mirio is Daddy-O? Like oh my gooddnneesssssss. Also Antheia is Greek for Flower or Blossom so that was your hero name.
I choked on my food 🤣🤣
Fire of Souls
Enemies to Lovers
Tsu'tey x reader (younger sister of Jake Sully)
Anything written in italics is spoken in Na'vi
“Keep up!” Jake snaps at me as he holds a large leaf back. “Neytiri hates having to wait.” I pass by the leaf and roll my eyes.
“I saw that.” His tail flicks with annoyance.
“You were supposed to,” I retort back with a smile. He shakes his head and keeps leading me towards Hometree. Jake has been selected by the Omatikaya to learn their ways. Which is what Tom and I had trained for, before he died. So now I’m on Pandora with Jake, the most overprotective and annoying older brother, ever.
As if reading my thoughts, he turns back and raises his eyebrows at me. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shrug innocently. “I just can’t believe they chose you.”
“Yea well, join the club. I think Norm is the president of it.” He flicks his braid behind him and picks up his pace. I laugh before almost stumbling over a thick root. I’m still getting used to my avatar body and my large boots only make it harder.
“You know, it’d be easier if you ditched the Earth clothes,” Jake says without turning around. I’m about to sass him when I snap my mouth shut. Jake worked hard to convince Neytiri to consider training me; I owe him one.
We move quickly, Jake making his way easily through the terrain as I stagger behind him. Pandora’s forest glistens above me. Animal’s I’d only ever studied, jump from branch to branch, making foreign sounds. Flowers that glow and twirl, sprout from around my feet. I want to sit and take samples, Grace would love that. But Jake wouldn’t stop, not for that.
“And,” Jake begins, breaking the silence that had settled between us,“please be respectful. Respect is big to the Omatikaya.”
Seriously? It’s like Jake forgets that I’m that one who actually trained to come to Pandora. I raise my hands up in a sarcastic surrender. “I’ll be so respectful. I learned from you, big bro.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Don’t be a smartass.”
“Well, I am the smart one.”
Jake scoffs. A colorful prolemuris chitters innocently as it hangs from a nearby branch. I raise an eyebrow at my brother. He opens his mouth to say something when a blue figure falls elegantly through the trees.
I recognize Neytiri instantly as she lands in a crouch, her eyes wide. I freeze, full of shock that she just jumped from so high. Jake smirks at the surprised look on my face. I suppress the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Neytiri slowly stands and takes a step towards me. Her eyes rake over my body, taking in my five fingers, long hair, and eyebrows. She takes another step closer and sniffs before grimacing slightly as if I smell. I pull my arms closer to my sides.
“One smartass is enough,” she mumbles as she inspects my sky people clothes. She walks behind me and flicks my tail.
I jump before turning to her. “Trust me, I am actually worth it.”
Neytiri’s eyes shoot to my face, making eye contact with me for the first time. I smile at her, trying my best to seem friendly, which is not my strong suit. She tilts her head to the side. “You speak Na’vi?”
“Yes, I studied it before coming here.”
“So you are not a warrior, like Jake?”
Jake tenses at the recognition of his name. “Hey, English please?”
Neytiri doesn’t react to his plea, her stony eyes remain on me. Jake looks at me, his ears laying irritatedly against his head.
I could lie to Neytiri, tell her that I’ve never been a warrior and never had any training, that I am simply a scientist. But my insides twist at the thought. Something in the way Neytiri is studying me, I know if I lie, she’d see right through me.
“I was a warrior,” I say, the words bitter in my mouth, “But now I’m a scientist.”
The sudden silence is deafening, it’s like the forest is holding its breath, waiting for Neytiri’s response. She continues to stare, her thoughtful yellow eyes lingering on my chest, as if she sees my anxious breath. Then, she straightens herself and looks at Jake. “I will teach your sister and you.”
His shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” I repeat.
She raises her head. “Come.”
~~~
Na’vi clothes are not clothes. They’re thongs and bras trapezing around as if they are clothes. I stare in a dusty mirror, my blue body with hardly any covering stares back. I groan.
Neytiri had walked me through some side entrance of Hometree, claiming that my sky people clothes would not be welcome here. We’d walked up an outerspiral of the tree. Small fires lit the way as we ran on the smooth bark until we came to a miniature alcove. She’d given me some loincloths before ordering me to change and leaving.
Now, I try again to arrange the cloths over my parts. I yank at the string covering my butt. The material flaps uselessly before falling down again, covering nothing. What I’d do for some shorts…
Neytiri rounds the corner as I have one finger up my ass trying to shove the material further over.
“Argh!” She exclaims as she rushes over and swats my hand away. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t think these clothes fit.”
Neytiri’s eyes go flat and she looks at me like I’m an idiot. “They fit.”
I’m about to protest when she pushes me out of the alcove. I stumble slightly, before my bare feet find their balance on the downward spiral. Hometree is massive, the inner spirals are a confusing maze, one that intrigues me. The inner layout isn’t in any textbook. I would be more than ecstatic if I didn’t feel so naked. Neytiri walks in front of me. Her shoulders are loose but I can sense her peeking at me from the corner of her eye.
“The clan is gathered for dinner. Jake is already there,” Neytiri explains as we reach the ground level of Hometree. The entire floor is covered with Omatikaya, warriors, healers, and families. Young children run past us, their tails flying behind them as they call after each other. The roar of conversation fills the space as people settle on the ground to eat.
Neytiri keeps walking, accustomed to the beauty of her clan. I follow her, taking in every detail of my surroundings. The beaded headwear certain men wear, a game with marbles that children are playing, and the soft beat of drums. Clan members stare openly at me. Some of them are curious, their ears perked up; but most of them glare at me.
“Demon,” a man hisses as I pass. I jolt at the fierceness of his voice. Neytiri grabs my shoulder and forces me forward before I have a chance to respond.
Jake sits criss crossed with his back against the far wall, a small distance away from any other clan members. His face brightens when he sees us. The closer we get, he begins to grin. Once we’re right in front of him, his head hits the back of the tree as he lets out a laugh.
“Don’t say a single word,” I spit at him. He’s not gonna be able to help himself, he’s just going to have to make fun of—
“God, that’s worse than your bikini’s on Earth,” he manages to say between spurts of laughter. Neytiri looks cluelessly at us.
“I will kill you,” I say calmly.
Neytiri’s head cocks to the side as if that thought intrigued her. Jake stops laughing and puts his hands up in fake surrender. I roll my eyes and sit down beside him.
“Wait for the clan to get their food, then you may have some,” Neytiri states before turning and working her way through the crowd.
Jake and I don’t talk in her absence. Our relationship is used to silence. There was a time, when we both trained for the Marines, where we talked about deeper things. Then everything happened, and I had to leave, and Jake and I grew apart. I try not to think about that year. If I ignore it long enough, it’ll be like it never even happened.
When I left the army, I joined Tom for avatar training and prepared to leave for Pandora. Seeing Jake in Tom’s avatar is like a knife being constantly twisted into my gut, digging deeper and deeper. I take a deep breath. I don’t want to think about Tom or life back on Earth; I came to Pandora to get away from it all.
A large fire burns in the middle of the floor where Na’vi fill their plates. Laughter and conversation infuses the space, giving it a pleasant ambience. Growing up here, having a community like this, must be so nice. They don’t even know how good they have it. If only we humans could understand. Neytiri appears in the crowd and works her way over to us, three plates balancing in her hand.
Jake’s eyebrows raise. “Think she brought us some?”
My stomach growls. I didn’t even know my avatar could do that. “I hope so.”
Neytiri stops in front of us, an annoyed expression on her face. I’m starting to think that’s just how she always looks. “I brought your dinner. Best you stay further away from the clan.”
“Right,” Jake says as he reaches for the plate, “thank you.”
I take my plate from her, “thanks.”
Neytiri settles in across from us, her eyes lingering on her clan members. She’s probably wishing she could eat with them instead of us. I push the thought away and dig into my food. It’s some kind of meat, probably sturmbeest, and a selection of sweet fruit. I take a bite and instantly melt, flavors bursting on my tongue. “This is good.”
Neytiri ignores me and eats her own food. Jake nudges me with his shoulder, telling me he thinks it’s good too. I relax a little, suddenly grateful for him.
“Neytiri,” he begins, “will we be hunting tomorrow?”
I chase a small piece of fruit around my plate, it sprays pink juice all over my fingers.
“Yes,” Neytiri answers curtly.
“You’ve brought another?” A foreign voice says. I snap my head up to find a Na’vi man standing before us. His muscular chest is covered in a beaded piece that crawls up his neck. He glares venomously at me, the hatred in his gaze sends chills down my spine. I narrow my eyes on him. I know who he is, I’ve seen his pictures in my textbooks. It’s Tsu’tey.
Neytiri hisses. “Not now, Tsu’tey.”
“They will never be one of us,” He says, his eyes boring into mine. He tilts his head slowly as he looks me over, he lingers on where my five fingers are stained with juice from the fruit. He chuckles and shakes his head incredulously. “Especially not the new one.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m rarely embarrassed or offended by other people, but something about Tsu’tey sets me off. His words nestle under my skin. I open my mouth to snap at him when Jake places his hand on my forearm, as if he can feel the anger rising off of me.
‘Tsu’tey,” Jake mutters, “always a pleasure.”
Tsu’tey’s lip curls with distaste as he looks at Jake. His entire presence is dangerous and lethal, he doesn’t even need to speak. I rub the side of the loincloth. Neytiri rolls her eyes at him. “Go on.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Tsu’tey whispers to Neytiri, just loud enough so I can hear, “that new one can’t even sit still in her clothing.”
Neytiri giggles, making my blood boil. Tsu’tey looks smug as he leans back. My vision darkens.
“I could sit still on your throat until you run out of breath,” I say with deadly calm.
Neytiri gasps as shock registers on Tsu'tey’s face, his mouth dropping open. Clearly he didn’t think I spoke Na’vi. Pretentious asshole. Jake looks confused between us all. “What’s–”
“I could have your life for that,” Tsu’tey interrupts Jake, seethingly. His eyes look like they’ve been set on fire. They’re practically ablaze as he stares into me, his hands shaking furiously at his side.
“Calm down, Tsu’tey,” Neytiri says before eyeing me cautiously, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “People are noticing…”
Tsu’tey inhales sharply. Multiple clan members stare at us, alarm and curiosity coating their features. Tsu’tey steps back slowly, his eyes assessing the sudden attention were receiving. He sets his strong jaw, the movement highlights the high arch of his cheekbone.
“I’ll be seeing you, alien,” he mutters through clenched teeth. I fight the urge to flick him off as he turns away.
The clan members go back to their own conversations and my heart rate returns to normal. Jake blows out a breath of air. “What the hell was that?”
Tsu’tey’s blue backside glitters as he passes by the firelight. Multiple people greet him as he passes, he gives them each a tense and strained nod. He is a seriously stressed out guy…
“Your sister,” Neytiri begins, “she is interesting.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Neytiri’s eyes are crinkled as she looks at me, like she’s seeing something in me that she hadn’t seen before.
Jake laughs. “That’s one word for it.”
I smack him playfully. Neytiri smiles at the gesture, now observing my brother and I. After a moment, she goes back to her food. Jake begins asking her about our training plans tomorrow.
Tsu’tey is now standing with a group of men on the other side of the fire, the light washes over his chiseled arms. They talk animatedly, smacking each other’s back and laughing. What are they talking about? I cock my head to the side, watching how Tsu’tey fixes his chest piece and listens to his friends. I wonder if he’s an asshole to them too or if that’s just reserved for special cases.
He nods to one of his friends, his beaded hair flicks across his ears before he turns. His eyes lock with mine from across the fire. I flinch at the sudden contact. His eyes darken, making my stomach drop. I quickly look away and pretend to be a part of Jake and Neytiri’s conversation. I can feel the weight of his stare, it pierces me, like he’s tearing me apart with just his eyes. My breathing quickens and I try to focus on the conversation in front of me but I can’t process anything. Tsu’tey’s raging face keeps popping into my mind.
After a few moments, I finally get myself under control. He’s just some asshole, I can’t be this bothered by some guy being rude. I risk glancing back to where he stood across the fire. He’s gone. I let out a relieved sigh, but something still curls in my stomach. That won’t be the last I see of Tsu’tey.
Hi beautiful, thanks for reading!
I haven't seen anyone writing about Tsu'tey so hopefully someone wants to read this??? Idk, I just really love the idea of enemies to lovers and Jake being like bro what
I want to make this into multiple parts and make it a slow burn with tension and everything. Would anyone want that?
I'll still be doing other submissions as well <3