TWITTER LINKS!! ~JJK

cecaelia au — middle school

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

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remember percy said boys and girls arent allowed to be alone in the same cabin? it makes me cackle that rule exclusively applies to only boys & girls when chiron literally taught achilles & patroclus in early chb and apparently it still never crossed his mind that one thing homosexuals sure have is audacity

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Crybaby part 3.

pairing: Bakugou X Fem Reader

Summary: With the bills piling up and no way to know when you will be able to return to work. Your roommate suggests you take a call center job where you can work from home. The job? being an anonymous person for Pro Heroes to vent to.

But no amount of training could prepare you for just how quickly your first caller makes you cry.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Pro Hero AU

Wordcount: 19.4 k Part 3/6 (this chapter 6.3k)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4: 1/2023

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave me a comment so I know to tag you next update♥)

Also posted on AO3 (most of my work is hanging out there♥ please check it out!)

use of pet names, cursing, and more sassiness! A little dumb flirting, and mild, very mild spice. Things are finally heating up. jealousy? heavy flirting, but reader just can't accept it.

It took almost a week before you were able to make it back home.

A week left of nothing to do, and nowhere to really go. Put up in a fancy hotel, that lost its shine and glamor the longer you were there. While it was nice the first couple of days, you grew more bored than you ever imagined you could. All that the two of you could manage to do was idly go out and explore shops, mostly just window shopping. But even looking into the expensive department stores and fancy little candy shops. Grew old after a while.

Both your roommate and yourself were off for the week. Since neither of you had access to the required tools to do your job. your boss told you that you could have the time off. Still paid of course, since you were technically involved in a villain attack.

But the entire week you spent longing to get back to your job.

And no it wasn't because a certain loudmouth hero hadn't called you like he said he would either. You still weren't worried about the fact that he may have lied to you and never went to the hospital. That he hadn’t been stubborn and was left to bleed out on the floor of his office. And no you definitely weren't upset at the fact he told you he would call you. And you still hadn't heard anything from him.

Nope, not you.

So when you and your roommate were finally able to go back home. You felt a flood of relief take you as you unlock your door and stepped inside. All the glass and dirt had been cleaned up. A brand new sliding glass door and windows installed in every room. Your property management was quick to apologize. For not having impact-resistant windows and doors installed before you moved in. and delayed the date your rent was due, as a way to apologize.

Using your new scooter you found it a bit difficult to push it across the beige carpet of the living room. What was once your favorite thing about this place was now turning out to be a nightmare to roll across. Opening your door and letting you see your bedroom. It looked almost the exact same way you left it, it just cleaned up. The new window lets the evening sunshine as it set beyond the scope of the tall skyscrapers of the city.

But your bed?

Oh, you beeline straight for it. Almost throwing yourself into the well-worn comforter and sheets. Leaving your scooter behind you spread out. Your limbs stretch to the far corners of the bed laying your head face first into the mattress. As old as your bed was, and as much as you liked to complain about how bad it made your back feel sometimes. You felt comforted by being back in your own space. Soft warm blankets, that had been waiting just for you to crawl back into them and sleep the day away.

It felt so nice to finally be back home, even if it wasn’t big or shiny, this was your little slice of paradise. Carefully crafted. To include all of your little trinkets and things you have collected over the years. You didn’t even realize that you missed it until you couldn’t look at them every day.

You turn your head to the side and just take a moment to breathe. Pulling up your still injured hand you trace the line of stitches on your hand. The doctor told you that you would have to keep them for two weeks. And then come to see him so they could remove what didn’t fall out on their own. The palm of your hand was still tender to the touch, but you could see the start of its healing. A tight pink line ran across your palm, forcing the new skin to stay together. It was ugly and bright against the expanse of your skin.

But it was just a hand, nobody would see that scar.

But it still bothered you to know that you were going to be left with a reminder of your carelessness. That scar still brings back the thought of your mystery hero, and where he was. Maybe he too was getting his own set of scars from fighting a villain.

You hated to admit that you got your hopes up that he would call you the next day. It was stupid on your part when you believed him when he said he would call you later. He was a busy man, there was no reason why he would waste his time talking to you, especially if he had a job to do. But still, the last conversation you had with him, had you yearning to hear his loud and angry voice once again.

You were madder with yourself for getting upset than anything else. He didn’t owe you anything, especially a phone call. But you still found excuse after excuse on why you should be mad at him.

But with going back to work tomorrow you silently hoped in the back of your mind that he would call you. You didn’t even care if he waited until you had a minute left of your day. You just wanted to hear his voice, and make sure he was alive.

The rest of your night was spent, checking out your room, and awkwardly taking a shower. It was always so hard to stand with your foot in a cast, but you were thankful for the doctor who wrapped your foot. He was able to use a hybrid-type cast that you were able to get wet. So taking a shower was easier than with a traditional one. But you still couldn’t put a lot of pressure on the appendage.

You managed the best you could, holding on to the shower wall, and using your good hand to wash your hair and body. Taking extra care to start up your skincare routine. And change into the most comfortable pajamas that you owned. Which really just meant that you wore panties and a tank top. Your roommate was nice enough between catching up on her work emails and making phone calls. To order some takeout.

And you sat in your bed enjoying the small spread of food. Idly playing on your phone, wrapped up in your sheets. And for the first time in forever, you decide to turn on the tv. Letting it idly play in the background of your room. Until you let that little intrusive thought cross your mind. Maybe you should turn on the news and see what’s happening in the world. Maybe see if there were any tracks or big fights that happened this week that you should be privy to.

It definitely wasn’t because you wanted to check and see if your mystery hero had made the news.

Not that you would be able to tell if he had or not. You didn’t know what he looked like, what his hero name was, or even his real name. But still, the thought lingered until you couldn’t fight it off anymore. Grabbing your remote and flipping the channel to the local news. You watch as the two anchors give short replays of the events of the week. Mostly about how a school of kids had been attacked, but heroes were there to save the day.

Smiling faces of children and crying parents played along your flatscreen. And you went back to playing on your phone, convinced that you didn’t care about what was playing on the television. Focused on the clicker game you were tapping away at on your phone. Half ready for bed, a tired yawn leaves you as you endlessly tap your phone. Until you hear the soft knocking of your roommate gently tapping at your door. Before she cracks it open sticking her head inside.

“I know it’s late, but apparently he has been calling nonstop!” she says, forcing you to pull your attention away from your phone to look at her. “He’s on the phone asking for you.”

“Who?” You ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.

But you knew immediately who she was referring to. The same gruff asshole that you had been longing to talk to all week.

“Him,” She says. “Boss said she will pay extra if you talk to him now, just make sure that you send her over the time stamps for the call.”

Immediately you perk up at that. You didn’t even care that you were going to get more money for taking the call so late at night. But you didn’t want to let your roommate know that.

“I guess,” you say casually, even though it felt like you had to stop your heart from pounding away in your chest.

“Ok, I'm gonna patch him to your cell, so you can stay in bed,” She says with a sly smirk.

There was no way that you couldn’t tell your roommate about the last call you had with him. About how he was being sarcastic but still sincere in his own way. You retold the entire story to her as she sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom while you took a shower. And she laughed when she told you that you had a major crush on the scaly lizard pro hero who kept calling. The running joke now had her also pointing out every little lizard and gecko. That the two of you came across in every store you went to. And it made you laugh but it still made you yearn just that much harder to hear his voice once again.

She shuts your door and not even thirty seconds later, your phone screen lights up with a call. A private number phone vibrates the phone in your hand.

“Do you even know how fuckin’ long I’ve been trying to get a hold of you?” He growls out as you answer the phone.

He didn’t bother to greet you as a normal person would. But even when he sounded angry, you couldn’t help but feel relief as he talked. And you can hear him take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before he let it out. Like he was working up himself in order to keep himself calm. Silence fills the line as you wait with bated breath on what he has to say.

“You can’t just disappear like that,” He says after a moment, his voice losing its harsh tone. “They kept giving me some bullshit about you being gone." He grumbles into the phone.

It was endearing that he had tried to at least tried to contact you. But you had no access to anything to be able to talk to him.

"They gave us the week off because of the whole being shacked up in a hotel. We can't exactly do our job with no way for people to call us."

"Then how the hell did I talk to you while you were on the train?" His gruff voice snaps.

"They patched you over to my cell." You giggle.

"They coulda done that again."

“If I didn’t know better I would say you might have missed me.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh when the offended huff leaves his mouth. Traveling through the speaker and into your ear. It was just cute how he claimed that he didn’t care, but he was up in arms about not being able to talk to you.

“Whatever.” He finally answers.

But something about the way he said it made your heart jump. It wasn’t full of the anger and rough attitude you have become accustomed to hearing from him. It was softer, quieter.

“I guess I could forgive you for not calling me for a week. I was worried you know!” You say after a couple of seconds letting the laughter die down in your voice.

You couldn’t stay mad at him for something out of his control. He didn’t know that your boss was letting you have the week off and you would be unreachable. And he had put in the effort to try and contact you. The thought made your already jumbled stomach flutter more.

“Don’t try and guilt trip me, I tried.” He barks, but it still doesn’t carry the bite of his normal voice.

"Who would I be if I didn't give you a hard time?" You laugh Into the phone.

It hits you just then how much you actually missed hearing his voice. The way he spoke was harsh and loud, but when he was talking like this. All soft and normal it made your stomach flutter.

You wouldn't dare admit it to him. But you have come to terms with the fact that you may have a little bit of a crush on your mystery man. And it was this exact reason why you had such strict rules you had to follow when talking to him.

They didn't want you to become attached to your callers. They didn't want the anonymity of their business to be put in jeopardy. Because one person couldn't keep things professional. But you couldn't exactly make yourself keep to the rules.

You wanted him to bother you, it didn't matter how late it was. You wanted him to call you and gripe, even if it meant that you had to break a few rules now to keep him around. It was selfish on your part. Stringing him along like this. Because once your leg was healed you would go back to your normal job, and he would lose interest.

Besides the distance you knew had to be between the two of you. There was also the fact that you were a social outcast. Quirkless and once he found that out he would drop you like a bad habit. Just like everyone else did. You didn’t have the luxury of being careless anymore, your heart was sealed off from love for a long time.

Nobody wanted to be friends with a quirkless girl, history proved that to you.

"What's wrong?" You hear him ask if you didn't know him better sounding like he was concerned.

"What?" You ask softly, pulling yourself from your spiraling thoughts. "I didn't hear you."

"You stopped that giggling and shit, so what's wrong?"

"Ever perceptive there hero." You quip. "It's nothing, I think I'm just tired."

You lie through your teeth. But what you were thinking about wasn't anything he needed to know. You also didn't want to tell him about your woes either. He called you to vent, not the other way around. You were here to listen, you weren't supposed to be thinking what you were.

You were already crossing a line.

"I think you're a lair princess."

Either you really were a bad liar, or this guy was just way too perceptive.

“I’m fine, it's just been a long week.” You lie again, but hopefully, it would sound convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

“Being laid up in a hotel too rough on you?” he asks with that sarcastic tone you know so well. “The room service and VIP treatment weren’t to your satisfaction?”

You laugh before you can help yourself. It was a small giggle really, but even with his words, you could tell he wasn’t being mean. It was his way of trying to be playful.

“Can you believe that we didn’t get room service?” You ask mock offended. “We were forced to go out and find our own food! They treated us like common peasants!”

You wave your hand around for emphasis, even though you were the only one who could see it. But it worked, he laughed with you. Deep and rumbly as it traveled through from his side of the line into yours. The familiar fire in your stomach sparks to life at the sound. You can feel your face heat up as well. And again you have to mentally slap yourself for letting something as dumb as a laugh cause you to react like this.

“We will just have to up your hotel accommodations. Next time you wanna stick your face in a window during a villain attack.” He snickers.

“No thanks, I think I learned my lesson with the last one.” You sigh. “Besides I need to leave the heroes to do their work. I don’t want any more flying lessons.”

You lay back in bed, with a smile on your face. Now that you had some time to get over the initial embarrassment of the incident. You could finally have a playful conversation about it. Of course, it helped that you had your residential smartass to talk to.

As the line falls silent, you let your eyes glance at the tv, the news anchor talking about the latest story of the day. It was the same story from when you first switched over to the channel. The one about the school full of children being saved. But this time you happen to see two familiar faces pop up on the screen. A small gasp left your lips at the realization.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Oh, I uh left the tv on the news and I just saw the guy who rescued me! And the other one who busted our windows.”

“The one with the fat ass? What’d they do?” He asks but you could hear what you can only assume is a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“Looks like they saved an elementary school full of kids.” You say innocently. Squinting slightly to read the headline as it played across the bottom of the screen. “No casualties,” you add.

“Who are they?” He asks, and you could hear rustling around on his side of the phone.

“I can’t tell you that.” You chide.

“If it’s on the news, then it’s public information princess.”

God, he really needed to stop calling you that. You had to fight against every piece of yourself to stop from just blabbering their names. As they played under their pictures.

"Your dead set on getting me fired, I know it." You groan into the line.

"Just read me the headline then." He chuckles in your ear.

"Pro heroes Deku and Dynamight save a schoolhouse from a metal villain." You read in a hushed tone.

Like being quiet about what you were saying was going to make it easier. For you to further break the strict rules of your contract. But still, he was right in the technical sense. You weren’t breaking any rules the company that paid you set in stone. You were just innocently reading your mystery man a headline from the news. He could just as easily be watching the same local channel you were right?

Complete coincidence.

But he was silent on your end. No witty comeback, or smart-ass reply. But you could hear his breathing pick up as the silence continued.

“Which one saved you?” He asked, but his voice wavered ever so slightly.

It was like he knew something you didn’t, and you did not enjoy that feeling at all.

“The green-haired one,” You say softly.

You didn’t say his name, for your own reasons. But from what you understood from the news that these two were some kind of god-like duo. Working together since their high school days. It was kinda dumb how you didn’t realize sooner. That you had been witness to the number one and number two pros in the country fight right on your street.

“Course he fuckin did.” He grumbles into the phone, and you can hear more rustling going on on his end of the line. Like he was doing the same thing you were, just laying in bed having a conversation with someone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, adjusting yourself further into your bed.

You continue to watch the tv as it plays more of an interview with the green-haired hero. Smiling and happy as he talked to a reporter. He was cute, you had to give him that. With his curly mess of hair and freckled face. It wouldn’t be far out of the scope to say that he was attractive, but not for you.

Instead, your eyes wander to the background as the other hero stomps his way over to his partner.

They were massive, you had seen that firsthand. But the ashy blonde that stormed up to his friend and leaned in to whisper in his ear had all your attention. His sharp red eyes were hidden behind a black mask.

You had to give it to technology these days. The definition was so good you could see the flecks of dirt and soot that lingered around his face and in his hair. And the way his hero suit clung to each and every curve of his well-defined muscles. The tightness leaves little to the imagination. Your eyes can’t help but take in the broadness of his shoulders, and how his arms flexed as his arms swayed. All the way down to where his belt sat snugly around his slim waist.

God, if only you had been more focused on looking at him instead of that fight when he was right in front of you. He was beyond pretty, even with the sour look on his face, his gums showing as the reporter asked him a question. His mouth pulled up in a snarl as he turned his head and walked away.

But you were right about him having a fat ass. Oh my god, at least you got to see that in person.

“You fall asleep or something?” He barks into the phone.

His rough voice was more than enough to finally break the trance the Blonde on the tv had on you. Physically shaking your head slightly you focus back on your phone call.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to get out. “I got distracted,” You muttered the last part like it would make the heat in your cheeks feel less hot.

“D’you see something you liked?” He asks almost sounding hopeful.

But with the way, the thought entered your brain of maybe the roles being changed around. What if That man had been the one who climb through your busted sliding glass door and flew you down to the ground? Would he have been nice about it? Or would he be grumpy like he was on the television? He was a hero, so he would have to have some kind of bedside manner right?

“Do you know those two?” You ask, with not-so-innocent intentions flooding your mind.

Look you were only human, it was normal to have daydreams about being rescued by big muscular men. Playing out the trope of being a damsel in distress. Waiting with bated breath for your prince to rescue you. To take you away to some magical place where you were free to fall in love.

“You could say that,” He says with a bit of a smirk in his voice. “Why?”

And you could tell he was enjoying himself a little too much from the way he spoke. His voice dripped with something you hadn’t had the chance yet to pick apart. Teasing, but something more lingering just under it? Your head was still playing back the fantasy your mind had cooked up. Only pushing you further into your heart rate picking up, and feeling hot all of a sudden. So much so that you sling the covers from your body in an attempt to cool yourself, not that it did you much good.

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” You say embarrassed.

And he has the audacity to fucking laugh at you.

“You liked that green-haired nerd didn’t you?” He accuses you over the line. “Or do you have a thing for blondes?”

“Oh my god, we are not about to talk about this on a work call!” You squeak and fight the urge to hide your face in your pillow.

“Then give me your number and I’ll call you.” He suggests. “I’ll give you all the juicy details you wanna know.”

Oh, he was trying to get you to break the rules for him. And he wasn't even being coy about it either. It wasn't going to be his job on the chopping block if your boss found out about this.

“I will not,” You say simply, pulling your face from your phone, ready to hang up on him.

He growls into the line, even with your phone away from your ear. Hearing something so primal comes from your mystery man. Was more than enough to rattle something deep within your stomach. Sending butterflies soaring around your insides.

“I’m not doing this shit again, give me your number!” He barks.

“I can’t, I’ll get fi-”

“Fired, yeah I fuckin’ know.” He cuts you off to finish your sentence.

And before you even have to chance to talk he starts rambling off a list of numbers to you. Slowing down and repeating them once he realizes that you weren’t writing them down. Quickly as you can you pull out your little notebook and make him start over again, writing the numbers. He promptly hangs up after he makes sure you have all the digits written down.

You can't help but be a little taken aback by what you are looking at. It was clearly a phone number, and you had a minute to process the entire five-minute conversation. He had given you his number and expected you to call him. But you couldn’t make yourself. This was crossing so many lines, and the last thing you needed was to lose your job all because you wanted to talk to him.

But with shaky hands, you type the number into your phone and press the call button. When the call started it only got three rings in before you can hear his gruff voice on either end.

“Before you even start bitchin', you didn’t break any rules,” He says roughly. “I gave you my number.”

It was like he knew you were panicky over calling him. Which was sweet, even if he was pushing the limits. He was doing just enough to stay teetering on the line of what would keep you safe.

“I just can’t afford to get fired,” You say softly.

“Listen you fucking crybaby, if you get fired I’ll just pay your bills till you go back to your old job or whatever.”

You don’t know if it was still the sinful thoughts lingering in your mind. Or your own stupid brain working against you. but you can’t keep the words from flowing out of your mouth.

“I could enjoy having a sugar daddy.”

In your mind, you said it innocently enough. But you could hear the absolute sin that was dripping from your tone as soon as the words slipped past your lips. Almost shocking yourself as the sentence marinated in the air. Gently flowing from your end of the line and going right into his waiting ear. You had zero business sounding like that. Especially when it was another hero That caused this type of reaction out of you. It wasn’t fair to the man you were on the phone with to let your sluttiness be known while he was the one here talking to you.

“I bet you could.”

And by all things holy in this world he let his voice drop lower than you ever expected it to go. You could physically feel the chill that ran down your spine. As his voice caused your body to be engulfed in flames. It felt like warm honey was running through your veins. Fuck, he did that on purpose. He was matching your energy, and you could not take it.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you try and backtrack. Trying to sound less seductive, but it still sounded flustered.

“That’s a shame,” He tsks into the phone. “Now tell me which one of those two idiots stole your attention away from the most important hero in your life?”

You were simply going to melt into a puddle on the bed if he kept up that conceding attitude. You Could not handle feeling this flustered. The added risk of him somehow holding this conversation against you later on. As some type of blackmail made you clench your thighs together.

All you could do was sputter and stumble out your words, nothing coherent coming out. You at one point even stopped and took a deep breath, but your words were still failing you for a moment. Even as he darkly chuckled into the phone. Thoroughly enjoying the torment you were going through.

“The nice one!” You lie.

It was the biggest, fattest lie you could muster given the circumstances. He didn’t need to know that you were lusting after the current number two pro. He definitely didn’t need to know that it was his pretty face. And bulging muscles that kept playing through your mind.

Your nice hero Deku was completely forgotten. In exchange for the snarling blonde still playing on the tv.

"Liar." He teases. "You like 'em mean."

"I do not." You try to keep the nervous laughter in your voice from making its presence known. But your voice betrays you when it cracks a little.

"You wouldn't keep taking my calls if you liked nice guys."

He said it was such confidence that you even believed him. Although you suppose he had a point, even so, you would never admit that to him. This was still a pro, completely unattainable as far as you were concerned. If it weren't for your job this guy wouldn't give you the time of day to even talk to him.

But still, it was a nice little fantasy you had going on.

"I have to take those calls." You remind him.

"Yeah? Well, what about this one?" He coos.

He had you there, completely.

"Courtesy call. Just to let you know this won't be happening again."

"Nah, you're gonna keep taking 'em." He says with a low rumble in his chest. "Wanna know how I know?"

"You don't." interjecting his point.

"Because as much as you wanna act like a brat, I think you like being a good girl more."

He was right, and yet again you were left unable to process much of anything. This entire conversation has spiraled out of your control. And left you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something unknown, scary even. But holy hell, why did you enjoy the things he was saying to you?

"You can't say stuff like that!" You whisper harshly.

You roll onto your side, and pull your cover half up your body, shielding yourself from no one but yourself. But it made you feel less vulnerable when you had this man calling you names like he was. Everything from your original crybaby, to now good girl. This man was pushing all of the right buttons to keep you flustered.

"And why not princess?"

And there was the other one. Such a simple little term really. But you couldn’t stop your body from reacting to the way he said it. Deep baritone voice, laced with every intention to make you squirm around in your bed. You clench your thighs together again. Just to relieve some of the building tension you felt growing in your lower body.

"Cause you can't just accidentally flirt with people!" You scold him, still more embarrassed for yourself.

You couldn’t force yourself to come to terms with the fact he may have been so suggestive on purpose. It had to be an accident on his part. Nobody flirted with you, even on those long nights spent at the club you worked at. Drunken bodies weave together under the neon lights and strong bass of the speakers.

It was one of your favorite things to watch at work. When people finally started to let loose and feel the music. When they would grow bold enough to grab the hand of that friend or stranger. Who had been eyeing them the entire night.

Dragging them to the dancefloor and sensually dancing with each other. Sometimes they didn’t even get through an entire song before they would be attacking each other. Tongues darting out to taste the remains of alcohol still on their lover's lips. Hands traveling under shirts and skirts to grab handfuls of thighs and hips.

You always wondered what it would be like to have that in your life. A spur of the moment romance, even if just for the night. To have someone want you with the same messy passion as you witnessed time and time again.

"I'm a hero, I don't do anything by accident." He cockily reminds you.

“You don’t even know who I am or what I look like!” You try to counter his suggestion. “I could have four arms and be purple for all you know.”

“I know more than you give me credit for.” He chuckles like he already knew everything there was to know about you. “But I’ll back off if you want me to. Don’t need ya cryin’ on me again.”

“It’s late, I really need to go to bed.” You try your best to divert the situation.

It wasn’t going to quiver the aching you now felt in the apex of your thighs. But you needed to have a moment to breathe once again. And keeping him on the line was going to do nothing but make your break. You were only about two seconds away from throwing everything to the wind. And letting him have anything he wanted from you as it was. And like a fool you were still trying to cling to the hope you could keep some semblance of professionalism. Despite your call being a private one.

“You gonna be thinking of me while you fall asleep?” He asks in that same sinful tone.

Closing your eyes. You bite the tip of your thumb in hope of quieting the sound of the soft moan as it slipped past your lips. Biting harder on the pad so you can focus back on getting off the phone. Saving what little sanity you still had left.

“My roommate and I think you're a scaly lizard man,” You say dumbly, talking around your sore thumb.

That was sure to kill the mood. Compare him to a cold-blooded reptile! He would get the hint and lose any intrest in you once he found out about your joke. Hopefully, he didn't like funny girls.

“Only one way to find out,” He says.

“What does that mean?” You asked slightly panicked. Your heart pounding away in your chest now for an entirely different reason.

“Get some sleep,” He chuckles into the phone again. “Night crybaby.”

He didn’t even give you the chance to say goodbye, fuck you, no nothing before the line goes dead. And you let out a frustrated sigh before you pull your phone away from your head and throw it down on the bed. You had half the mind to call him back and yell at him for being so rude.

But you knew that was what he was probably waiting for.

For you to call him back so he could find another excuse to keep you talking to him. If you could even call it that. It was all about him talking so inappropriately and you being unable to control how your body reacted to it. It was almost like he could sense what he needed to say to turn you into a gooey mess.

But he wouldn’t win that easily. He didn’t know just how petty you could be. You could easily just go to bed and forget all about him. Block his number and carry on with your life. But you still felt that growing itch to reach for your phone and do it anyway. Already missing the way he sounded when he was getting what he wanted.

And you didn’t fight the urge for very long. Because as soon as you heard the notification for a text go off on your phone. You immediately shoot out your hand and grab the device. Quickly swipe your finger across the screen and pull up your text messages. If the picture that was just sent to you was real then you were wrong, so very fucking wrong.

He wasn’t some scaly lizard man like you joked about before.

You can’t help but let your eyes take in the sight lighting up your screen. His head was completely covered by the flash from his phone. But the sight you were blessed with just about made you pass out. The rest of his body was hard, with chiseled abs, and scars dancing along the curves of his chest and hip. All the way down to the deep V that was on display. Your eyes stopped once they reached the hem of the extremely low-sitting sweatpants. That were barely hanging from his hips. No question in your mind that he had to be bare underneath them.

You couldn’t pull your mind to focus on anything else but the photo haunting your screen. The man had a body built like a fucking deity, strong, wide, and muscular for days. Every inch of his exposed sun-kissed skin just begging to be touched. You had to force your mouth to close. Before you actually started to drool in your lap at the sight that was bestowed upon you. Only for three little dots to appear under the photo. A snarky little message appears from the unsaved number on your screen.

“Still think I’m a scaly lizard man?”.

Taglist: (I'm sorry If I missed anyone I need to set up a whole post for people who want to be tagged)

@mary-jinx, @tnqueen, @sumztrix, @hypernovaxx, @purplepotato13

funimation is shutting down as part of its merger with crunchyroll, and any digital copies of anime funimation users bought won't carry over. you can purchase something outright and corpos will still turn around and say you don't own or control it.

anyway piracy is good and necessary and perhaps even an imperative.

Barbarian King Bakugou who has a number of women presented before him so he may choose the three wives he will marry and rule with as all the kings and queens did before him.

Barbarian King Bakugou who only chooses one wife, you, only because of how similar you look to a woman he has loved his entire life but has never been able to be with.

You, who has been chosen by the Barbarian king, ripped from your homeland, forced on a boat over seas to a foreign land to be some savage’s whore for the rest of your life.

You, who overheard the reason why this so called King of Savages only chose you as his one wife.

You, full of contempt, wrath and resentment from being stolen from your home to be a watered down replacement, to be a slave to a man you will never love for the rest of your days.

You, whose sole purpose is to make your new “husband” regret ever pointing a finger to you and saying “I choose this one”.

Hey! Lemme boost this really quickly.

hi hi everyone!

i am sorry to be doing this, it's certainly weird as i've been writing since 2020 and never done any kind of commissions or things like this before but my financial situation is changing as my job is super insecure so i made a kofi!

i'll be adding it to my big writing posts, but if you've ever enjoyed my writing feel free to give it a little love. no pressure, don't spend whatcha can't afford.

kofi link

Imagine college au mha where Izuku Midoriya is a male cheerleader. I feel like he would really make a good one because its very plus ultra. I can see him at the bottom of an inverted pyramid using his quirk to hold everyone up and he uses black whip to catch anyone if they fall. We're a new teammate and he's got eyes for us. It's definitely a Bring It On vibe.

If anyone wants to use this idea as a base for a one-shot or series, its fine by me! Just tag me so I can read it and reblog it!

i don't think people really understand what's happening in gaza. with each passing day that sees more and more palestinians dead, it's becoming easier and easier for those in the west to perceive them as nothing more than a statistic. they might engage w the occasional palestine post, sure, but it's just as easy to scroll right past that moments later w no real outrage for the genocide retained.

it's vital to stay reminded that palestinians who are with us today won't be with us tomorrow. it's happening every second of every minute of every hour, and it's relentless. somewhere in gaza a little girl is losing her mother, a little boy is watching his siblings bleed to death, elderly people are infirm with starvation and illness, palestinian women and girls are being sexually assaulted and kept in cages, fathers are leaving tents to find food for their families and not coming back. this is all happening right now, and it's a direct result of the west's complacency. it's a direct result of their not seeing arabs as people worth saving.

it might be hard to compute as a westerner, but this is real. don't let your privilege blind you to your humanity.