“sometimes you’re just hard to love,” you say, looking out into the night sky, with tears in your eyes, an argument pushed you over the edge.
he simply looks at you, despite the breath he was holding, he didn’t want to make your life harder than it was but he couldn’t help it.
“then leave, i’m not stopping you,” his mouth moves faster than his thoughts.
he sees the light leave your eyes as he says that, immediately regretting what he said, swallowing the dry spit in his mouth.
so you do as you’re told, you leave. ‘i’ll apologize in the morning, it’s fine’ your lover thinks to himself. he will never see you again.
OSAMU DAZAI | chuuya nakahara | XIAO | diluc | sanemi shinazugawa | eren yeager | levi ackerman | sasuke uchiha | ban
fantasy books (tellalegend, cathjest and evajacks) christmas headers!! 🦌🎅🏻♥️
like or reblog if you save or use! pls!
in another life.
pairing: eren yeager x fem! reader
wc: 1.7k+
warnings: season 4 spoilers, just a shit ton of angst like idk what the hell i was on when i wrote this
summary: eren comes to find you the night before he leaves for marley, but when he forces you to think of a future without him, you’re not sure you can.
a/n: i actually forgot i wrote this lmao it’s just been sitting in my docs all lame n shit bc i didn’t like it at first but i read it again and i’m not mad at herrrr!! kinda contemplating a second part that reflects on reader n eren’s flashbacks when he comes returns to paradis and even heavier angst bc i’m evil >:)
You lolled your head forward, allowing heavy beads of water to cascade down your back, hot and ample as they soothed the rigid muscles of your shoulders and arms. You wiped away at your closed lids with wet hands before opening your eyes to watch as pearly suds gathered at your feet then disappeared into the drain.
There were two types of tired: one that could easily be alleviated with sleep or a brief pause for the body to restore its stability, but there was another that required much more. The type of tired caused its person to teeter on the edge of their sanity, silently wishing for nonexistence because sleep simply wouldn’t suffice. That was an insidious type of exhaustion that plagued the soul and the mind, and it was the type of tired that wasn’t habitual or biological, no human was made to endure its weather. You knew that kind of fatigue all too well.
Continuar lendo
As a boy Katsuki never understood why men cried whenever they saw their bride for the first time.
When it came to his turn to stand at the altar, suited up and slicked back hair,he finally understood why.
His heart is pounding violently against his ribcage, so loud that he can hear it reverberate through his head. His palms were damp, and his gaze stays fixated on the double doers before him. The doors that will soon open to reaveal tge love of his life.
His foot meets floor repeatedly in a tapping motion, and his hands are rough as he shifts his collar side to side. His body litters with goosebumps and involuntary quivers.
He's suddenly grateful for this being a small wedding with only close family and friends. Hewouldn't want a large crowd witnessing his nerves get the better of him.
Kirishima smiles though the tears flowing down his face. He's honored to be the best man on his best friends big day, because that means he gets to see the tough Katsuki find pure happiness and put his walls down for the one he loves. If it's loveenough to make the great lord explosion murdered god dynamitenervous, then it's love that should be cherished.
Katsukis stomach flutters when the pianist begins to play your song. It's time.
He fiddles with the cuffs of his blazer and submerges the urge to run his hand through his perfectly styled hair.
When he locks eyes with you for the first time that day. It feels as if time itself slowed down. In this moment, every ounce of anxiety he had been carrying fades away. You are radiant under the soft orange glow of the sun, your skin shimmering like a precious diamond. His precious diamond.
His heart dances swiftly in his ribcage, touching every nerve in his body with pure love.
He catches a glimpse of your hands nervously fiddling your dress by your sides and remembers that he isn't alone. You, the love of his life, are sharing the same nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
He begins to see you more clearly as you approach him. The soft glow of your eyes, your perfect lips and curves.
And when he hears his name flow so sweetly from your lips he can't help it. He chokes out a sob, and immediately your hands reach up to gently swipe away his tears.
The audience give a numerous amount of awww's, which cause a smile to tug its way onto his lips.
His glossy eyes stared longingly into yours. "You look beautiful" he whispered.
Saying his vows was the hardest part. He just couldn't stop crying, and the tears wouldn't stop flowing. You there assuring him and giving him gestures of love. When you started to say your own vows, seeing his redened nose and tear stained face cause tears of your own to flow down your face.
With a gentle yet firm grip his palm finds comfort on the curve of your waist. The minute the officient said you may kiss the bride. Your arms evelop his the soft skin of his neck and your heads tilt to the side as if it's instinct.
This kiss hold a firm yet sweet connection, a silent promise that this love would endure for eternity.
He was finally married to you, his angel, the girl of his dreams. He looked forward to calling you his wife, to starting a family-
Hot tears stream uncontrollably down his face, an eruption of raw emotion he can't contain. His heart swells with overwhelming swarm of love, joy, and deep appreciation, a feeling he once never believed possible.
With a shaky breath, he pulls away softly before resting his forehead on yours. "I love you" he choked "so fuckin much"
You huffed at his cuteness "I love you more Katsuki"
He places one more kiss to your lips, and nuzzles your nose with his.
"Impossible"
once upon a broken heart (evangeline fox) headers. like/reblog if you save or use. ☕️💖
bride headers — like or reblog if you save.
ᰔ pairings: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader ᰔ content/tags: mha spoilers, childhood pov, abusive childhoods, childhood crush, blood, allusions to self harm/suicide, explicit language, smut, kinda not really, its smutty talk, angst, allusions to s/a, power dynamics, time jump to when touya is like 26, creative liberties have been taken with the original story, set in the century 2400 ᰔ wc: 10.5k ᰔ a/n: so there is a bit of a weird timeline with this one. instead of touya dying at 13, I've made it he dies at 16 and the subsequent events are a lil delayed, in the manga he is 24 atm but here i have him as 26, please suspend your disbelief for a sec cause the amount of work ive put into this so it makes sense, i almost went crazy
March 10th 2460 Touya: aged nine You: aged eight (and three-quarters)
Breakfast is at five, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven.
The clock hands tick over the first five graduations and onto the sixth, meaning it is six minutes past seven and dinner is late.
Lateness is not tolerated by the Todoroki clan.
No reason, whether it be big or small, would be accepted nor understood by the head of the family, and punishment for being tardy ranged from groundings to lectures and in the most severe cases, a beating. However, those parameters do not extend to said head, who you think to be more akin to that of a prison warden than a father.
You watch the housekeeper slide the last of the food onto the table and take another look at the clock.
7:08.
The table had been set, food diligently prepared and presented, plates piled high with greens and dripping meat, three different kinds of fish, an array of soups, and other liquid foods. Mrs Todoroki often had trouble eating, so instead opted for warm broths and hot teas, and they were all going cold while you waited for Mr Todoroki to come in from Touya’s nightly training. Saliva coats your tongue as you breathe in the heavenly scents wafting from the mountains of food, your stomach growling in protest at not being filled with the delicious smells.
Ten minutes pass and just before the eleventh has a chance to be observed, the sliding doors to the dining room whoosh open. With the ease and casualness of someone who is above the law of the household, Enji Todoroki strolls in followed closely behind by the eldest sibling.
Touya trails behind his father, movements sluggish and slow, his frail body slumped in exhaustion and what you would only later realise as terror. You can almost see the muck that weighs on his body, dripping off sharp bones in big flat globs of swamp green mud, seeping into the reeds of the tatami mats below. Fresh wounds litter his arms, blooms of dark red blood pock the sterile bandages that were hastily wrapped around his limbs. The stark white began at his wrists and climbed up and up his arms until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. You follow Touya, eyes lingering on his wounds as he sits down opposite you.
“Fuyumi. Is he-“ Your question is hushed, spoken from the corner of your mouth to avoid raising suspicion of the subject.
“He’s okay, we don’t talk about it.” Her answer comes in a rush, eyes darting towards her father like a prey animal watching their stalker. “Just eat.”
Fuyumi’s mouth pulls into a frown for a quick second before her attention moves to the food before her.
You nod, attention shifting from the boy across the table to the plate that had been prepared just for you. A small helping of meat and fish paired with a big serving of rice and vegetables, the nanny even going as far as to put it into a divider plate as though you were a toddler, but you thanked her regardless, smiling up at the haggard-looking woman as she nodded politely and moved onto tending to baby Shouto. The food only holds your attention for so long before you glance back up at Touya, watching as he cuts into his steak with the precision of a man far beyond his years. Each move slow and calculated; every shift of his arms or turn of his head deliberate and purposeful, small actions to avoid raising awareness of his person. Come to think of it, all the children, save for Shouto, moved like that. As if they were in constant apologetic states just for breathing, existing, and with their father you understand why, but it doesn’t stop you from staring at the boy before you.
"Stop looking. He doesn't like it when you stare." Fuyumi whispers, smacking her knee against yours.
"But it looks like it hurts." You whisper back, unable to look away from the red splotches on the white bandages.
You want to ask if he is okay. If he needs a doctor and who did that to him? Was it a bully at school? How was the school not getting involved if he was being bullied this bad?
"Fuyumi," Touya sneers from across the table. "Tell your friend to stop staring at me."
Unabashed hatred simmers in his blue eyes as his glare falls on you. Heat rises to your cheeks, stumbling out an apology, and vowing to never look at him again.
No one had ever looked at you like that. With such hatred and malice, you didn’t even know existed.
"He plays rough, always falling over at school," Mr. Todoroki’s voice booms throughout the room, so loud and sudden it is like a thunderclap on a clear day. "You've got to be more careful, Touya. What would people think if they saw you like this!"
The lack of care for his son’s well-being gives you pause mid-bite. The vegetables fall from your fork as goosebumps skitter along your skin.
What would people think if they saw you like this?
What would they think other than he had been in an accident? Is Touya’s broken body a regular occurrence that people would be so used to seeing that it would start to raise suspicion? Had he been hurt on purpose? Why would Mr. Todoroki say that? Did Mr. Todoroki do that to Touya?
Your attention is pulled outwardly as Natsuo starts to talk about his day, telling his mom and the housekeepers all about the latest games and toys at school, the newest edition of a card game you like captivates you and your thoughts are swept away from the strange boy across from you.
Dinner ended as it always did.
Mr. Todoroki called the housekeeper over to deal with the mess and children as he retired to his office and Mrs Todoroki took her evening walk around the grounds of the estate. You can’t stay the night despite it being a Friday, you’re never allowed to stay the night. Fuyumi had stayed at yours plenty of times, your parents never saying no to another friend but never you at hers. You thanked both her parents and waved bye to her brother before the youngest housekeeper walked you home. That’s how every Friday night ended.
That routine had become a staple in your life, going on two years, before there was a change to the way of things.
------
July 1st 2362 Touya: aged eleven You: aged ten
The shift was subtle and gradual, like the way a house is warmed by a fire on a winter’s eve. Slow and steady, seeping into all corners of the once-frozen house until all you know is warmth and you can’t remember how the cold felt. That’s how you would describe Touya’s presence in your life. From the arctic interactions each Friday night at the dinner table to someone you would call a friend.
The first thaw of the ice wall that had formed around your friend’s brother, was an accident.
Knee deep in the heat of summer, you had rushed over after summer school, swimmers in your backpack and a dream of jumping into the fresh cold heaven that was the local pool. You had come looking for Fuyumi, hell-bent on getting your poor friend out of the stuffy old house and somewhere she could have fun without the risk of her dad making her or her siblings cry.
You had come to hate Mr Todoroki.
He hadn’t done anything to you personally to deserve the contempt you held towards your friend's dad but you had heard enough from Fuyumi. She had told you all the times he made her mom cry. How there would be arguing and then the sounds of breaking plates followed by her mom’s cries. Mrs. Todoroki never said anything was wrong, never alluded to anything other than a mild argument but there had to be something more, right? Adults didn’t cry over nothing!
“ ‘Yumi, let's go to the pool!” you call down the hall. “I’ll buy ice cream this time.”
The housekeeper had let you in, instructing that your friend was in her room finishing up some school work but after you checked her room and found no sign of her, you went looking.
That is how you found Touya.
Walking into the bathroom under the assumption you would find Feyumi, you are greeted with a situation you are not old enough to understand the severity of.
Touya slouched on the bathroom floor, surrounded by bloodied towels, unspooled bandages, and uncapped ointment tubes. A piece of gauze caught between his teeth as he attempts to bandage his bleeding hand.
He shouts at you to leave, his command broken as he hiccups around the sobs falling from him. Scorched skin covering the majority of his arms, fingers red and blistering as they shake.
That image sears into your brain. Imprinting itself onto your eyelids so that each time you fall asleep, you see Touya; broken and bloody.
There isn’t much you remember from that afternoon, only flashes and stills that live in the recesses of your mind.
The feel of the cold tiles on your exposed legs as you knelt before the once terrifying older boy who had never had a single nice thing to say to you.
The smell of salt and metal of his fresh blood.
The sound of Touya’s cries as you peeled incorrectly placed bandages off raw and exposed skin.
The acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat upon first laying eyes on the scene before you.
It had been too much for little you to comprehend so you just forgot most of it. Thrown it into a locked drawer in your mind and lost the key.
That was the beginning of the thaw, a gruesome and bloody beginning to a friendship that spanned years and ended just as horribly.
------
September 23rd 2463 Touya: aged twelve You: aged eleven
“So it's this really old movie that my mum used to watch” you explain as you click on the familiar title screen. “It’s about a girl who gets transported to this weird world and she has to solve some weird riddle to get out.”
Touya looks at you like you had grown a second head but accepts your weird movie recommendation. You sit down next to him, popcorn bucket jiggling as the couch sinks under your frame.
The beginning animation of Spirited Away starts and the familiar tune wraps around you like a warm hug. This was the movie you liked to watch whenever you felt sad, and you noticed Touya was a little sadder than normal these days so you offered to have a movie night. His siblings had all said yes but upon discovering that the movie was one from decades ago, backed out. So with just the two of you left, you sit in silence and watch as the beautiful world comes to life.
It’s a nice moment between the two of you, sharing something so personal with someone you would have never considered a friend and here the two of you were, watching a movie. Like friends!
“I’m gonna call you Chihiro cause all she does is cry and that’s all you do too,” Touya announces as the credits begin to roll.
“I do not!” you retort, slapping his arm lightly. “I cry a normal amount for a girl my age!”
Touya rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Chihiro.”
------
February 14th 2464 Touya: aged thirteen You: aged twelve
Spring is only a month away yet it feels as if it were the middle of December.
The cold of winter had sunk its claws deep into the city and it seemed as if it did not have plans to let go of it anytime soon. Everyone in Tokyo bundled up against the frost that coated the wind but it wasn’t the cold that had your hands trembling as you gripped a single rose.
It was Valentine's Day and you were about to ask Touya to be yours.
The nerves that had built in your stomach had taken over your extremities. It was as if your entire body was a live wire that every so often touched an exposed pipe and jolted.
In the two years since the bathroom incident, you had grown closer to the oldest Todoroki, sparking a friendship that consisted of more than smiles and shy hellos across the dinner table. Phone calls and text messages were the daily, walking to school and home together was the new norm, all things that one would consider friendly but there was a part within your heart that was growing to like Touya a little more than a friend. You knew it was a crush, you weren’t a little kid anymore, but you also knew that he was unattainable for many reasons. One was that he was a sibling of a close friend and the other being that he was not someone who thought about life that way. There was no room for crushes in Touya’s world. There was only hero work. How to become a hero and then how to become the number one hero.
You had heard this speech a million times. His plans to surpass his father in the rank of heroes and become the ultimate symbol of peace. Heroes had no time for girlfriends, only villains.
But you had no plans of becoming a hero so there was no real reason you shouldn’t try, right? Your mom had bought you the flower this morning, picking up on the crush that you had developed on your friend and very excitedly pushed you to give Touya a gift.
“What do I do with this?” Touya asks, confused as he takes the flower from your hands.
You had stopped halfway through the walk home and turned to your friend, eyes wide with fear, and shoved the bloom into his hands. Originally the plan was to hand it to him as you said goodbye for the afternoon but you were swiftly running out of ways to regulate your breathing to counteract the anxiety wreaking havoc in your stomach.
“It's for you” you answer, eyes trained on your shoes.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” There is a pause. “Do you like me?”
Yes.
“No!” you lie, shouting the word even though you didn’t mean to. “I felt bad that you hadn’t gotten anything, so I got you something and there you go, it doesn’t mean I like you.”
You hear footsteps, watching Touya’s shoes move closer to yours. “Just admit, you like me.” He teases.
“I do not!” balling your fists, you stomp your foot. “I already told you why I got them now shut up before I take them back!”
Another pause.
“Thank you,” Touya says gently. “Even if it's just cause you felt bad for me”
Spring had come early for Touya Todoroki.
------
June 28th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen
Romance had blossomed between the two of you, then wilted, then blossomed again, then wilted again.
Teenage hormones had been unleashing havoc on your friendship for the past year. One day you were fine and the next, barely speaking but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
“You two just need some time apart and then you can talk about it, you guys will sort it out.” Your mother had cooed, stroking your hair back as you cried one afternoon after you and Touya had had a ruthless argument.
The topic of fighting was always the same. His insane need to overtake his father and prove him wrong. The need within him had turned insatiable. Morphing from a dream that would one day be achieved with dedication and hard work into something that was turning your best friend into a ravenous beast.
“You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me.” Touya shouts as you walk home together.
“I am. You’re just not making sense.” You roll your eyes at your friend, turning your attention away from the raving lunatic walking beside you.
“Why would your dad have it out for you? He’s your dad?”
Touya huffs and stops, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you back.
“My dad isn’t like your dad. He doesn’t love me or any of us. He just wants us to be better than All Might.” His words are slow as if explaining something to a toddler. “He knows that I am more powerful than him and now he’s scared that I might beat him so he wants me to stop training.”
You groan out his name, annoyed at the constant conversation topic. “Your dad wants you to stop training because you keep hurting yourself. He has told you that a million times, he’s just trying to keep you safe.”
“If he wanted to keep me safe, he wouldn’t have let me train like this. This isn’t about me being safe, this is about me outranking my dad.”
“Touya-“
He continues his tirade. “Enji has realised that I am better than him and Shoto but he doesn’t want his loser son who can only use fire to become the number one hero. I don’t know why you’re on his side. Why can’t you be on my side for once?”
“I am on your side!” you shout, yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I’m always on your side, why do you always make it seem like everyone is against you!”
Touya’s mouth snaps shut at your sudden outburst.
“I can’t keep having this argument with you. I feel like you don’t even want to be my friend so you come up with this stupid stuff to push me away and if you want that, fine. Just tell me so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You huff and turn around, starting on your way home without your friend.
You don’t hear his footsteps follow you.
His apology comes in a text later that night.
I'm sorry, Chihiro. Can we still be friends?
------
October 19th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen “Can you promise me something?” Touya’s words become mist in the mid-autumn night.
“Depends.”
You turn to face your friend, feeling the dew-soaked grass squish beneath your shoulders. Hidden behind the garden wall, lost within the shrubbery the two of you hid from the housekeepers who had been tasked with wrangling the children in for dinner. Touya had run first, taking off down the hall the second he heard the call of his name and you followed, unaware as to what you were running from but you followed him everywhere so why wouldn’t you now?
“Please don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?” your brows crinkle in confusion. “Why would I forget you? Are you going somewhere?”
Touya is still on his back, attention rapt on the stars twinkling above him.
“Just when we get older and go to different schools and things change, you know.” He sighs. “Just don’t forget me.”
You sit up, concern overtaking your confusion. Why was he talking about this stuff now? Your friend turns to look at you, mouth pulled down in a frown as tears line his cerulean eyes.
“I won't.” You shake your head, scooting closer across the grass and grab his cold hand, interlocking your fingers together, you squeeze and swear an oath. “I promise, I won’t ever forget you.”
November 24th 2367 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
Nights come quicker in winter.
Which means less time spent with Touya.
But at least there is a little extra time when he walks you home on an evening.
It is a little awkward. Walking so close together but not actually touching aside from the occasional brush of fingers that sent your heart into a sprint. There is something unspoken between the two of you, something that teeters on the edge of romance but not something that you are both ready to dive into. It’s not like you are kids anymore, if you are going to date, it will be different than if you just liked each other. You will have to act like a girlfriend and not his friend and you didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. Was it any different than how you acted now? Plus, kissing and hand-holding. God, you want to kiss him.
You both stop at the gate of your house. The lights in the living room are on which means your parents are up waiting for you.
Touya drops your backpack at your feet.
There is a beat of stillness between the two of you, the tension rising with every second. You had not spoken a single word to each other the entire walk home and you don’t think you will even say goodbye. Touya offers you a tight smile and steps back, confirming your suspicions of a silent goodbye.
"Hey, I need to tell you something." You blurt out the words, not wanting him to leave just yet.
"Yeah?"
"I…umm," you stammer, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. "I know it's your birthday in a few weeks, so I wanted to know what you want as a present."
"That's a question, Chihiro” Touya's mouth lifts at the corners. “You said you needed to tell me something."
“I got mixed up." You amend.
"You sure? There isn't anything you need to tell me?" Touya pushes, taking a step to close the gap.
"I'm sure. I just got confused" You nod, affirming your choice of words. “What do you want as a gift?”
"Hmm,” He pauses and takes a few more steps closer, lips pursed as if deep in thought. “Well, I want some of those cookies your mom makes."
Touya stops a few feet from you, close enough for a hug but not close enough that it was weird.
You laugh. "Really? That's it? You don't want a proper present?"
He nods. "Wrap it up, and it'll be a proper present.”
“Okay, cookies it is” You mirror his nod and smile. Your palms start to sweat, cheeks and ears begin to burn as you look up at your best friend.
“Any more questions?”
You shake your head. “Nope, that’s all.”
“Okay, well I’m gonna go 'cause I should have been home ten minutes ago but you are such a slow walker” he teases, bouncing up on his toes.
“I-Um,” you stutter, unable to come up with a snappy comeback due to his proximity. “Go home before you get into trouble.”
“I’m gonna.”
He makes no move to go.
Silence fills the gap.
“Ahh, well I’m going to go since-“
You’re interrupted by a soft kiss against your cheek.
You still, unable to move at the realisation that Touya had just kissed you.
“Okay, I’m going.” He announces and takes a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?”
You nod, raising a hand in goodbye as he starts back down the street.
“I hope you like me too, 'cause that kiss made me late and my dad’s gonna kill me!” he shouts back, already halfway down the street.
“I do…like you…back” you shout awkwardly, feeling every inch of blood your body had flood into your cheeks. “Good luck. Hope your dad doesn't kill you!”
------
November 30th 2467 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
You speak at Touya’s funeral.
The third speaker of the ceremony, having been urged on by Fuyumi and Natsuo despite your protests, and the one to close off the day before his ashes were taken home. You tried not to cry, bottom lip wobbling all day and you would have made it had you not been shoved on stage, microphone held to your face as you unfolded the crumpled sheet you had stuffed into the pocket of your coat.
The rest of the day was a blur as was the week, then the month and only after six full months of grieving daily, crying god only knows how much, did you finally start to see the light at the top of the hole you had buried yourself in but unlike the times you and Touya would play together, his warm hand wasn’t there to help you back up.
------
January 4th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You think about Touya Todoroki often.
How your best friend had been killed in some freak accident. How despite his father rushing into the flames to save his son, had come out unscathed yet all that was found was Touya’s jaw bone. It didn’t make sense and you had driven yourself crazy with theories surrounding his death. It was an accident, they had all said. Even if it was an accident, Enji Todoroki was not innocent.
You think about the kind of man Touya could have been if he had lived, what kind of hero he would have become. How he would save the day then turn and smile at his adoring fans, blue eyes blazing bright with pride. You often think about his eyes, remembering how they softened whenever he would smile at you, brighten as you offered half of whatever snack bar you had that day. You think about him enough that you think you’re going crazy when you look up into the eyes of a stranger and see Touya staring back at you.
"Touya?" you whisper as you stare at the strange man.
You had walked headfirst into their chest while crossing the dark street, ducking under awnings to avoid the winter rain. Hoping to cut ten minutes from your usual walk home, desperate to beat your roommate home and into the warm embrace of your apartment’s limited hot water, you took the risk of walking down the alley; what you weren’t hoping for was to bump into your best friend’s dead brother. There was no way it was him, maybe he was a distant Todoroki. Enji did seem like the type to spread it around so maybe a few illegitimate children were running around with the eyes of Endeavour.
His hand reaches out to grab your arm, nails digging into your exposed flesh. You want to wince, to cringe away from him but something within you is telling you to hold your ground. The stranger pulls you closer, all false bravado leaving you as you realise what’s about to happen. Your body tenses, hands uselessly curling into fists at your side.
"Who the fuck are you?" a harsh whisper cuts through the quiet patter of rain.
The hand your arm tightens when you take too long to respond.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Your answer whooshes from you, all air leaving your body in a single sentence.
The stranger ducks his head to get closer to yours and you turn your face away, afraid to look into the face of the man who had the eyes of a long-lost love. This had to be some sort of joke, right? You were not about to be assaulted by a guy who had Touya’s eyes, there was no way the universe was that cruel.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I’m sorry, please.” Hot tears roll over your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering as you fight the frown wanting to form. You were not above begging despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good, if there was some way to get out of this situation alive and unscathed, you were going to try it.
“Hey,” the stranger calls to you, shaking you gently. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Great, he’s playing mind games now. You’ve seen enough true crime to know that there are no good people left in the world, especially the ones who lurk in alleyways.
A cold hand reaches out and grips your chin, lifting your face to his. The gesture is intimate, gentle and familiar.
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry, I-“You’re sobbing now.
“Look at me” he interrupts, fingers tightening on your cheeks.
He repeats his order when your gaze doesn’t move.
You sniffle, blink back tears that refuse to stop coming, and focus your attention on the man before you.
“I’m not going to hurt you so stop crying,” his voice is soft.
The hand that was on your arm now cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that coat your cheeks. His skin is rough and warm, but there is a bite of something cold on his palm. He holds you with such tenderness you feel a tug at your heart not for any feelings towards the stranger but because you had never been held like this before. That a complete stranger who was probably a crazy psycho villain was holding you with the care you hold a baby animal with.
“I need you to stop crying and answer me, can you do that?” he asks, nodding as his thumb continues to brush over your cheek.
You nod, taking in a shaky breath.
“Good girl.” Heat floods your cheeks. “Now, why is a pretty girl like you walking alone at night?” he asks softly.
You blink up at him, surprised at the switch in demeanour.
“I just finished work and this is shortcut.” you don’t have time to come up with an elaborate lie. “I’m really sorry about the whole name thing, you just look like a friend who died and I thought that maybe he wasn’t actually- I’m sorry” You feel the tears welling up again.
“Well, he’s not me.” He sighs, removing his hands from your face. You kind of miss the warmth they had. “I’m sorry you lost someone, but I don’t think accusing strangers of being dead people is a good idea.”
You nod wordlessly, too stunned at his shift in tone to formulate a response. The man reaches up for the hood of your raincoat, pulling it over your head tight to shield you from the rain.
“I need one more thing from you okay?” he asks, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “You gonna listen to me again?”
“Okay.” Your voice shakes.
“Don’t mention that name to anyone else, alright?”
He waits for your nod and then releases your hood. “You’re such a good listener” The fact he is praising you has your heart spinning. Wasn’t he ready to attack you a few minutes ago?
“Now go home” he nods his head to the exit of the alleyway. You follow his nod and look back at the light-filled street. “And don’t walk down backstreets anymore, you could get hurt.”
By the time you turn back to face him, he is already halfway down the alleyway arms raised in a farewell. You watch as he turns the corner and only when he is gone do you let yourself breathe. ------
March 6th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
"Let it go, dude," Natsuo sighs for the umpteenth time as he packs his books away. "You're lucky you didn't get hurt. He could have been a complete psycho."
Your friend is right and has been every other time you have brought up the strange man from the alley and you can tell by the way he shoves the textbooks into his backpack that his patience is running thin. Over the years, you had grown closer to Natsuo, looking at him like a little brother who you could force to hang out with and do things Fuyumi didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, he was the first person you called upon meeting the stranger (Knowing Fuyumi would have had a heart attack upon hearing about your encounter). Initially, Natsuo was concerned, terrified for your physical and mental wellbeing even going so far as to suggest letting his father know about the incident to launch a formal investigation but you were quick to shut that down. You hadn’t been hurt and the man didn’t seem to be skulking in alleyways to assault anyone so there is no reason you should get heroes involved.
"Dude, he looked so familiar! I know him," you press on, hands splayed on the library table as you lean in as if you were about to reveal a secret. "I think he was a childhood friend."
You had purposefully omitted the fact the stranger bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother or how his entire aura radiated familiarity and warmth something you only really felt from said brother.
Natsuo laughs and zips his bag closed. " 'Yumi was your only childhood friend."
"Fine, a neighbour, maybe I don't know, but I know him."
"Should I schedule you with my family psych, or will this fade by next month?" You frown at Natsu, sigh, and then give in to his pronounced lack of interest.
"I don't need to see anyone because I know I'm right," you start to pack up your things. "But, just for you, I won't mention it again."
------
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You feel stupid.
Really fucking stupid.
So monumentally stupid with every single decision that has led you to this moment. Led you to stand before a thick metal door, the sliding peephole pulled back to allow the man guarding the entry a view as to who knocked like some girl scout. The box of cookies in your hands does nothing to evade that image.
“I have a meeting with…Dabi?” you look down at your phone, squinting at the blurry name on your screen then back to the man guarding whatever was in that building. “I think.”
You have no idea if you’re being set up. If the person you had been corresponding with was the infamous villain or just some poser but what you have deduced from your months long investigation is that you had in fact met Dabi in that alleyway so whether it was him or not you were about to meet, he is your only lead into finally figuring out what exactly happened to Touya
“You think?” You hear the smirk in his voice at the uncertainty in yours. “I think you might have the wrong door, sweetheart.”
It is the right door. The creepy encrypted message you received gave you this very location with the exact time to arrive. This was a giant risk on your behalf. Trusting strangers on the internet to give you accurate information as opposed to being lured into a trap for human trafficking but the need to know more about the mysterious man you had met weeks ago was gnawing at your insides so much that you were more need than person. The hunt had begun with a very broad search into Touya’s death and the records surrounding the tragedy before very quickly veering into villain records and archives. There was a small lead with a hospital admittance for an unidentified burn victim in a hospital a prefecture over from Tokyo but that went cold when the body of the patient was identified two weeks post mortem through dental records. You had all but given up when a weird email in your spam box caught your eye. It was from an unknown sender, hence the immediate spam allocation, and had nothing but a link to a chat site. There is no amount in the universe to quantify the stupidity in your subsequent actions from clicking the link to chatting with the stranger on the other side of the screen but they had the information you wanted and so you followed their instructions to a bookstore, then a bar and then finally an internet café where you logged into the already open discord chat that had the location of the final meeting point. You quickly snapped a picture of the chat before it disappeared and three days later, here you stand in a deserted alleyway surrounded by boarded-up doors and graffitied walls.
“This is the address I was given.” You explain, holding up the phone so the guy can get a look at the message. “I promise I'm not with the police or anything, I just have some questions for Dabi and I know that makes me sound like I’m a police officer but I’m not and I’ve been looking for him for weeks so please, let me in.”
Your mouth sets in a frown and despite wanting to look intimidating and rough, you know you look like a child pouting in an attempt to get more cake. “Please, I’ll give you some cookies if you want.” A shitty bribe but a bribe nonetheless.
The man snorts. “You really have cookies in that box?”
“Yes. Fresh and homemade made and some of them can be yours if you let me in” You wiggle the box.
There is a beat of silence then the sliding peephole slams shut.
Fuck.
You close your eyes, disappointed in the fact you had come so far only to be shut down by some guy behind a door. Maybe this was the universe stepping in and preventing you from getting killed or trafficked. Maybe you should let this whole thing go.
Just as the last of your hope leaves you, you hear the click of a lock and then the door is sliding open. The man who you had been speaking to not ten seconds ago stands before you, muscular tattooed arms crossed over his equally muscular chest.
“Choc chip?” he asks, eyes trained on the box in your hand.
You nod.
“Fine, come in” The man tilts his head in a gesture to welcome you in. “Leave some on the counter.”
You nod again, your pace quick as you enter the building beyond the door.
The hallway is dim and damp, filled with cardboard and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The ceilings are high with exposed piping and hanging fluorescent bars that would have once lit up the entire walkway. Light bleeds beneath the many doors that line the hall, muted sounds following the flashes of colour that leak from the closed-off rooms. The smell is unpleasant, with mildew and mould growing along every available surface but what did you expect a dirty unoccupied building to smell like?
“Where’s the?” you turn to ask about the counter, but the man has disappeared. The door slides shut caging you in from the outside world, from an escape if need be. “Hello?” you call out and take a step back, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet.
Fuck. Fuck.
You turn on your heels, heading for the door you had stepped through a few seconds ago but are stopped by a familiar voice.
“Did you really bring me cookies?”
You whirl, fingers tightening on the box between them. “Yes, but if you don’t want them, it’s okay. I just thought that I might-“
You watch as the man you had met weeks before steps into the dim light. Breath catches in your throat as you are met with the face of the villain that has filled your screen for weeks now.
Dabi.
He is taller than you remember. Towering a full foot over you, his intimidating figure looms in the dim light. Your eyes follow the line of his scarred skin over his cheeks, down his neck, over exposed collarbones before disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt. Heat fills your face at your wandering gaze and you’re thankful for the lack of lighting.
“Who says I don’t want cookies?” Dabi smirks, taking a step out of the shadows.
“No one.” your answer is a broken stammer, earning a bemused snicker from your companion.
You take in a breath and square your shoulders. “I just don’t want to accuse you of anything.” A better delivery.
The villain hums and takes another step closer. “So, it is you then.”
Another foot closer, and when you don’t back away, one more. His steps are careful; small and reserved as if trying not to frighten you anymore than you already are. The routine is repeated, a hesitant dance of pushing proximity limits until he is less than a foot away. Blue eyes narrowed on you, brows furrowed in intrigue. Same blue as before. Same blue eyes as Touya.
His apprehension and fascination leave as quickly as it came, and you're left staring at a man who looks as if he wants nothing more to do with you.
“So, pretty girl, what can I do for you?” tone casual, pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to what?”
The thought of lying did cross your mind on your way over but you had already jumped through enough loops to get this meeting, you aren’t in the mood to play games and risk his irritation.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Dabi tilts his head to the side the way an animal does to hear better. There is something so unsettling about the he moves, something not entirely human.
“Talk about what, angel?” his eyes blaze blue as he notices the twitch in your lips at the byname. “About the league? About you? Me?”
“About you.”
Heat pools in your stomach at his affectionate pet name, embarrassment following suit. You should not be letting him get to you the way he is, but it could also be a good bargaining chip. If you couldn’t afford his services monetarily, physical payment would not be entirely painful.
“We can talk about me but first, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure.” The false confidence you had summoned before has not left you yet.
The insincerity of your act is palpable, but Dabi lets you go, lets you take this small win.
“How long did it take you to find me?” his question is genuine, interested in just how exclusive access to him is.
An exhausted sigh leaves your body at the mention of the time that you had put into locating him and his lips quirk at the gesture.
“Four months and 2 weeks, I think.”
An irrationally long time but there are questions that demanding answers.
“So, you’ve spent almost five months thinking about me?” he taunts.
Me. The emphasis on the pronoun doesn’t evade you but you don’t have time to dwell on his excitement.
“Yes. And now I’ve answered two of your questions, can I ask one?”
Dabi shrugs and reaches for the box in your hands. Rough fingers brush against the back of your hands, goosebumps skittering over your skin at the contact. He takes his time opening the small white box, bottom lip pulled between his teeth in contemplation at the contents before him and after a full minute of silent deliberation, does he pick one. Slender unscarred fingers dig into the box, fishing out the biggest and most chocolate filled treat.
“Did you make these?” Dabi holds up the choc chip cookie, inspecting the biscuit in the low light.
“That’s three questions now.” you announce as the unofficial score keeper. “and yes, I made them this morning.”
The making of the desserts had been a coping mechanism on your part. Too nervous to sit still but not so overstimulated you were willing to exercise to shake off the extra energy, you turned to an activity you hadn’t touched since university. The recipe was one you know by heart, having it gifted to you by your mother on your eighteenth birthday, you were free to think as your body worked through the motions. However, the purpose behind you baking said sweets was not entirely self-soothing.
Dabi nods and bites into the biscuit.
“I know you already said you don’t know the guy I mentioned when I first met you and I haven’t mentioned him to anyone again just like you asked me, and I figured with you being a villain, you might have connections that I don’t have and you can access more information as to what happened to him and I promise that I can pay. I’ll pay whatever you want but I don’t really have that much but I’ll pay in food, and that’s kinda why I brought some cookies to show that I can bake but that will only be a small amount because I’m good for a couple thousand-“ you reach into your back pocket to fish out your wallet. “I promise, I won't ever mention this to anyone, but I just really need your help, Dabi.” The juxtaposition of your pastel purple Kuromi wallet holding thousands of dollars as payment for a villain’s services almost makes you chuckle but the lack of recognition from your companion causes you to pocket the purse.
Dabi’s stare is unamused as he chews.
“Why is this guy so important to you?” he asks around a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re willing to blow thousands on some dead guy, not to mention you’ve risked your life coming here, so why is he so special?”
Your fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into your palm before you relax and answer.
“Because he died in a really weird way, and I need to know if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”
“That’s a stupid reason.” Dabi spits out.
A frown tugs at your mouth.
“He’s dead. Who cares how he died and whether you could stop it or not.” He continues, rolling his eyes as your pout forms. “What’s the real reason you’re looking for answers? There’s something else.”
“It’s stupid.” You mutter, suddenly embarrassed at the reasoning for your investigation.
“Ohh, it can’t be that stupid if you’ve put all this effort in.” Dabi croons. “Come on, angel. You’ve gotta tell me why if I’m gonna do all this work looking for him.”
You take in a deep breath in hopes of smothering the tears that are threatening to spill but the lump sticking in your throat has other plans.
“Because he was my best friend and I loved him and I never got to say goodbye.” You sniff, nose starting to run as the tears build. “Please.”
Dabi stares at you.
“You made these?” the question comes out of left field.
You blink at the villain, unaware as to where he is taking the conversation but answer him nonetheless.
“Yes, I did. It’s stupid I know, bringing cookies as a bargaining chip but I-“
“Your mom’s cookies are better.” Dabi interrupts.
My what? My mom?
“What?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry but your mom’s cookies will always be the best.”
Your jaw slackens as you stare at the man before you.
“My mother?”
“Yes. Your mom made better cookies and it’s not for lack of trying, yours are really good but they’ll never beat your moms.”
Is he fucking with you? Is this some elaborate psychological warfare that he enacted on all his victims? Are you about to die? How does he know about your mother’s cookies?
“Aww, don’t get upset Chihiro. I'm just being honest.”
The nickname rattles your soul.
Touya.
Before you can even register that you are moving, you have crossed the space between your bodies and swung at the villain.
Your clenched fist collides with his jaw, surprising him out of his teasing. Arms wrap around your waist as you collapse against the villain. Your knees break the fall, bones screaming out in pain as they slam into the concrete, and you brace for further impact but it never comes. There is a moment when you truly believe you are going to be killed, incinerated into nothing but ash for your assault but nothing happens and so you are left with no other choice but to get answers from the man under you. There is no clear choice as to why you chose violence, some primal part within you acting out of instinct. There isn’t enough time for you brain to catch up or even process that information that had been thrown at you. . In most high pressure situations, you would retreat inwards and carefully unpack each and every detail of the occurrence like you were a kid under a Christmas tree; not a package left untouched, but you don’t have that luxury in the current moment.
Hot fat tears stream down your face as you grip Dabi’s cheeks in your hand, his skin rough beneath your fingers.
“You’ve been alive this whole time?” you cry, fingers digging into the gaunt flesh and when no answer comes you ask again, the palm of your hand connecting6 with his cheek in a sharp slap. “You left me to think you were dead, but you’ve been alive?”
Below you, the villain stares up in disbelief. Eyes wide at the mad woman above him, screeching like a banshee let loose. His thin shirt is scrunched tightly between your fingers, pulling the material taunt against his body. You have no control over your actions, feral and bowing to your emotions. You watch as your hand slips to his neck, pushing at the base of his throat.
Finger wraps around your wrist, pulling your weight off his windpipe and then the world shifts.
You are flipped over as easily as a leaf in the wind. Now on your back, the dust that had been kicked up from the floor sticks in your lungs and you cough as you cry.
Dabi hovers above you. Legs on either side of your hips, hands pinning yours above your head preventing you from causing any more harm to him. You try to kick, to wrench your hands from his grasp, throw him off you with your hips but nothing. You fight back against your opponent, teeth gnashing as you desperately try to find purchase on skin but he has done this too many times before to leave anything to chance. All points of access to an injury on his behalf are sealed up, held high above you and there is nothing you can do to reach.
Your cries are loud and deep and aching. Air leaves you with each heaving sob and you fear you may never breathe again. Spit and tears mix in a hot mess across your cheeks and you would wipe away the mess if not for your hands held above.
“I hate you so much.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you breathe in. “I fucking hate you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You hear Dabi apologising over and over again.
A hand brushes over your forehead, then your cheeks, then your jaw.
“You left me.” You wail. “You left me there, all alone.”
Your chest heaves, air being gulped down as if you had been held underwater to the point of drowning and it felt like you had been. You had been held under for so many years and now you were getting a moment of air, and your brain could not process it.
You take a few more breaths, calming the blood roaring in your ears and pounding heart and finally when your breathing returns to a semi-acceptable rhythm, do you finally acknowledge the man above you.
Dabi glides his palm along your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before resting his fingers along the side of your neck.
“I’m so sorry.”
A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.
There is no longer a villain before you. Dabi does not exist. The boy above you is Touya. Your Touya.
You knew it. You knew it was him all along.
“Is it really you?” your voice is hoarse from crying.
“If I answer, you need to promise to keep it a secret,” he whispers, free hand curling in the ends of your hair that lay splayed out beneath you.
“Promise.” You nod and hold out your pinkie the way you did so many times as children.
Touya interlocks his pinkie with yours.
Fresh tears prick at your eyes.
“Hi, Touya,” you whisper.
“Hi.” He whispers back, hand pulling away from yours to glide over your jaw and slot into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I missed you.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull his body against yours in a bone-crushing hug. A laugh leaves your friend as he loops his arm around the back of your neck, holding you close. You pull back, face now centimetres from him and wait for him to make the next move. Your body follows his breaths, following his lead just the way you would follow him all those years ago. A lump forms in your throat and you know you look insane; hair mused, cheeks flushed and soaked in tears, eyes still red and crying.
Touya closes the distance, mouth hovering above yours and you think he is going to kiss you but nothing comes.
“Did you really love me?”
A sob leaves you involuntarily.
“I loved you so much, you have no idea.” The truth spills from you. “I love you so much.”
At the confession, Touya kisses you.
His mouth is soft on yours in the gentlest of kisses, almost as if he was afraid that you would fall apart if he pushed any harder. You part your lips to test the waters and when Touya follows your lead opening his mouth against yours, you grip onto the shirt bunched up around his waist. He lets you lead, lets you take control and set the pace for the first few minutes. Following your moves and pressure against your body to not push you any more than you already had been but as you whimper beneath him, his demeanour shifts.
Fingers tighten in your hair and the hand that had been holding himself up comes to rest on your waist, slipping beneath your body to pull you closer to him. Your mouth opens wider beneath his and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip before flicking into your mouth. Menthol and chocolate fill your senses and you scramble for more, hands gripping his face as you desperately try to get your fill of him; of Touya. The steel of the staples bites into your palm but you don’t care, don’t care what form you have him in, you have your Touya back.
You’re being lifted off the floor, hoisted to sit on his lap, feeling the entirety of his body against yours.
You pull away to stare at him, not believing this is happening and that at any moment you are going to wake up or snap out of your delusion.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Touya asks, eyes frantically searching for the reason you aren’t kissing him anymore.
Your chest constricts at his concern. The same sweet and caring boy you fell in love with all those years ago.
“I’m okay, I just-“You stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, inhaling a shaky breath. “I missed you so much. There was so much we didn’t get to do.”
He frowns and nuzzles further into your palm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want..” You can’t form the words. Can’t articulate the need within you for him. All these years you’ve held a torch for your deceased best friend. All these years you could have had him with you and now that you do, you aren’t letting go. “I just want you.”
Touya’s frown deepens. “Even now?” His thumbs stroke circles along your clothed skin.
You know he is referring to his crimes. All the bad he has done and probably will do. You do not care. You had long ago abandoned your hope in the heroes of society, having been granted a look into the past of the now top hero. There is nothing for you in that world, nothing on offer that could sway your feelings for the man below you.
“Even now, and tomorrow and the day after that and yesterday and the day before and the month before that” You smile, knowing you weren’t making sense but none of this made sense. “I never forgot about you.”
Touya’s eyebrows knit together in an expression you don’t know and for a moment you panic; worried you had crossed a line that you didn’t know existed. You want to apologise, take back the words that had so carelessly tumbled out but his grip on your body stops you.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he sighs, hands sliding up to press into the small of your back.
“Really?” you beam, unable to stifle the excitement that grows in you at his confession.
You are no longer an adult woman sitting in a dirty and dusty warehouse; you are fifteen and hearing your crush confess words you had been so desperately wishing to be spoken.
Your best friend’s fingers trailing over your spine pull you back to the present.
“Never for a single second,” he tests the waters and slips one hand under the hem of your shirt. “I never wanted to forget you.”
When no protest on your behalf comes, Touya slips his other hand beneath the material and begins to trace shapes into your skin.
“What did you think about?” your question is breathless, head beginning to swim as you feel heat bloom in your stomach.
Touya hums in thought, fingers beginning to climb your ribs. “Good things. Great things actually.” hands splay over the band of your bra. “some bad things but that isn’t important.”
Your thighs slip further apart at the implication; weight now fully resting atop his hips. There is no doubt that he can feel the heat from between your legs, the warmth that had begun to pool in the seam of your panties.
“Bad things?” you ask the question without knowing what kind of answer you would get. “I was nothing but nice to you, what bad things could you be thinking of?”
You feel his cock twitch at your innocence. Perfect.
Your answer comes in the form of an action. Touya leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as his fingers pressed hard into your spine, holding you against his body as if you are a buoy and he is lost at sea. Your own hands begin to wander, sliding from where they came to rest on his neck, into the hair at the nape of his neck and as he digs his teeth into your bottom, you pull at the strands between your digits.
Touya pulls away, breathless.
“I always kept an eye on you, you know.” he pants, pushing your body away only enough to ogle you freely. “And I’ve gotta say you grew up so well.”
There are two thoughts that cross your mind in that spilt second. One: to bring up the fact he has kept you within his sighs for years, has been in the shadows of you life and how there is a part of you, not that big but enough to plant a seed of betrayal, that you can’t forgive him for that. Two: to throw caution to the wind and give into the part of you that aches for him.
The latter wins out.
“I did always think that Dabi was really handsome” you admit, an air of nonchalance in your words.
“Oh yeah? Even with all the new mods?”
“New mods?” you laugh. “Why do you make it sound like you’ve upgraded a game or something?”
Touya laughs with you.
“I’m serious,” vulnerability swims in his eyes as he looks up at you waiting for praise. “Do you really think that I’m still handsome?”
You nod and duck your head closer to his. “I still think you’re so handsome and you will always be handsome, which is really unfair.”
His lips are pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, with no hint of the darkness lurking just below.
“Even after all these years how do you manage to make me so weak?” Touya pulls away to admire you.”You, my pretty girl, are my weakness.”
He tucks your hair behind your ears, holding your cheeks in his cupped hands and pulls you back in for a kiss and you melt into his touch at the possessive compliment.
“All these years, I never thought I’d get to talk to you again let alone touch you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “but, fuck, have I thought about it.”
Your skin flushes at his confession.
His teeth sink into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin.
“Thought about kissing you like this” his words are slurred.
Slick begins to pool in your panties, the seam of your jeans dampening.
“Thought about having you in my lap, just the way you are and how good you’d feel on my cock.”
Your head swims at his words.
“When I saw you again for the first time a few years ago, it took everything in me to not walk up to you and kiss you right there and then.” He bites lower, nipping at your collarbone.
Rough hands make their way under your shirt, exploring the expanse of your back.
“Thought about holding you and kissing you and taking you home.” he bites again. “God, the amount of time I’ve spent imagining you under me or spread out just for me.” Breathing becomes hard. “All for me, just for me.” He chants your name as if it were a prayer.
You grind your hips over his, feeling his cock hard and aching beneath you. Touya groans against your throat, fingers digging into your skin. Hands begin to wander downwards until they find purchase on the buttons of his pants, stopping at the metal for approval from the man beneath you and when it comes in a rushed yes, please you flick open the clasp. Your movements are awkward and nervous, having never thought this would happen and you can tell Touya is just as jittery. His fingers dip under the waistband of your pants, toying with the soft elastic of the band. Your hands follow his and pull at the material, trying to pull it down but stop at the realisation there is no way you could do this and still look seductive.
“I’m trying really hard to make this hot, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.” You admit, giggling at the absurdity.
Touya shakes his head, removing his hands from your hips to hold your face again. “I don’t want to fuck you here.” He presses a kiss to your nose.
Before you can ask, he is answering.
“I’m not gonna have the first time I fuck you be on a dirty floor in a random building.” A kiss on your right cheek.
“But what if I want that?” you retort, hand reaching down between the two of you.
His breath catches as your fingers brush against his clothed cock.
“I know you want that,” he pulls your hand away and entwines your fingers. “and you know I do too,” A kiss to your left cheek. “But I had a plan back when we were younger,” he brings your hand to his lips. “and I’ve already had so much taken from us that I’m not letting our first time be taken too.”
Your heart squeezes. He really is the same boy you fell in love with.
“So as much as we both want it, please let me do this, okay?”
You pout, a habit you had formed long ago that usually got you what you wanted from him.
“Please, baby.” The pet name is a gut punch.
You nod and hold up your pinkie.
“You promise?”
Touya grins wider than you had ever seen and entwines his finger with yours.
“I promise.”
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged twenty-six You: aged twenty-five
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ᰔ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! ohmygosh, this was a long haul. I wrote it and then rewrote it and then rewrote it and so on and so forth till I got here. tiny TINY smut cause i didn’t wanna write a whole ass thing so I might do a one shot of it later. this exhausted me holy- also shout out to billie eilish lmao her entire new album helped me write this mainly chihiro, the greatest and blue but also harry styles' as it was and madds buckley's brother
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, assistant/sugarbaby!reader, playfully mean(to you)!sugardaddy!ceo!geto, ceo!gojo, taped on vibrator, small butt plug (no anal), edging, window sex, masturbation, squirting on the window, control orgasm, calling suguru sir, service sub!reader, bdsm hints, light begging, dirty talking, heavy praise/light degradation, hints at sharing you, spanking, biting
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Suguru squeezing the ass of his cute little assistant. He loves hearing her soft squeal when he does it
Oreo: I’ve been fighting a headache trying to get this one done because I have a night need to be fucked like a whore against a window while gojo watches
Suguru looks past Jin, rock hard beneath the desk. You’re beautiful struggling to maintain your composure. Holding up his hand Jin falls quiet. “Bring me a glass of water.” Smirking when you stiffly stand, clenching your thighs together.
Clenching your thighs together, keeping eyes casted down, clasping your hands in your lap. Biting your lip, fighting for your life not to moan when the vibrator taped to your clit pulses faster.
You’re so close to cumming on Suguru’s sofa with one of his employees explaining their concerns. Soaking your underwear, your cunt clenching nothing. Your ass squeezing the small training plug.
“Yes sir!” Your voice is shaking, your whole body burning, cunt throbbing and tingling from the immense pleasure.
Turning away from Jin’s curious gaze. “As you were saying Mr. Jin.” The vibrations stop, the reprieve is welcoming and disappointing. Your sensitive clit twitches from getting worked up so close and the sudden lack of stimulation.
Opening the fully stocked mini fridge built into the wall, pulling out the bottle of water and a chilled glass from the cabinet beside. The toy vibrates on your soft clit, slapping your hand over your mouth, fighting yourself not to moan.
Ignoring Jin’s drawl, purely focusing on maintaining your slipping composure and not spilling the water. Throwing the plastic bottle into the recycle, grabbing the chilled glass of water, trembling. Getting lost in the sweet pleasure, it vanishes.
Taking a deep breath turning around to face your sugar daddy and his employee. Suguru isn’t looking at you, smiling at Jin. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, I’ll see to it that’s taken care of, please see yourself out.” Pressing the button under his desk for the doors to slide open.
Jin nods his head, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes sir, thank you.” Stiffly walking past Jin, grateful he finally leaving. Going around Suguru’s desk. Holding out his glass of water, his warm thick fingers brush your’s.
Pushing himself away from the desk. His thick bulge in his black dress pants, “Good girl, thank you for the water.” Squeezing a handful of your soft ass, you softly gasp, glancing over to where Jin stands on the elevator peering with wide eyes through the closing office doors.
Suguru massages your cheek. the toy vibrate on your soft clit. “Don’t cum, not yet.” Standing up, grabbing your jaw, gently prying you mouth open with his thumb. Taking a sip and spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow, but you can’t cum yet.”
Setting the cup down, unbutton your dress shirt. “Please! I don’t know how much longer I cannnn!” Clenching your trembling thighs together, knees buckling, legs weak. You grab onto Suguru’s hard, thick bicep.
Getting off on his massive height, unable to stop thinking of fat cock he has for you underneath his pants. Stroking his cock through his pants. “A little bit longer, you’re so hot squirming, struggling not to cum just to make me happy.” Tugging your skirt down, for you to step out of.
His phone buzzes, whining when Suguru answers, “Nasty pervert, I’ll fuck her against the glass for you to watch.” Putting his phone on speaker on the desk. “She such a slut she will get off on seeing you stroke your cock to her.” Slipping your shirt off, unclasping your bra, he can’t get them off fast enough.
Tears trickle down your face, Suguru wipes away one with his thumb. “Aw my sweet little slut is crying cause she can’t cum yet.” Turning to face the window, grabbing your leg lifting showing Satoru your sloppy wet cunt.
Begging, crying, cunt dripping. “I’m gonna! Please! I can’t hold back! It’s too much.” Grinding your hips back, Suguru’s hard cock pressed against your lower back.
Satoru unzips his pants, dropping them with his underwear, sitting down, squirting lube into his hand. “Fuck she sound hot whining like that.” Suguru turns you to face the window, lifting your legs giving Satoru standing in large window his office a perfect view.
“Cum!” Thick warm cum splashes into the window, trickling onto the ground. Trying to close your legs, shifting trying to get away from the intense stimulation.
Groaning in admiration, gliding two this fingers into you. “Nnn so warm n wet, perfect little cunt for my fat cock to ruin.” Taking the toy off your clit, tugging on the jewel of the butt plugged.
“You’ve been wearing this for two hours let’s give your ass a break. Mm fuck I can’t wait till I can fuck her into a gabbing cum filled mess.” Gliding the plug out of your ass, setting it on his desk.
Suguru crouches, slapping your ass biting your cheek, enticing soft whimpers. Holding onto your hip to steady you. Your head is fuzzy, legs wobbly, you haven’t cummed that hard before. You want more. “Wanna cum again, please sir take care of my needy cunt.” Spreading your legs, and bending over when he dips his head between, lovingly kissing your soft cunt.
Gliding his finger in, getting off on how your soft cunt take his fingers. “You been such a good slut for me, I’ll take such good care of your sweet tight cunt for you. After you can sit in my lap during the meeting. Then we can go home, have a candle lit dinner.” Biting your ass, sucking roughly groaning, pumping his finger faster.
Satoru’s breathy moans coming through the phone. His jerking his cock faster, sliding his hand through his soft white hair, tugging. His mouth dropping open, checks flushing pink. He slows his pace, smirking and winking at you. “You’re such a beautiful dirty whore getting off on watching me jerk off while he plays with your cunt.”
Smiling at Satoru, “I’m a pretty dirty whore who likes it getting fucked in front of you.” Suguru stands up, squeezing your ass, sliding his hand up your waist. Gently playing with your nipple, biting your shoulder. Tilting your head to the side, he trails kisses up
Satoru pleads “Let her press her beautiful slutty ass on the glass. Lemme see your sloppy beautiful cunt and sweet ass.” Looking up at Suguru for his approval, he spins you around on your high heels.
Unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. Suguru is beautiful with his thick pecs, sculpted abs, broad shoulders slim waist and fat cock that rests on thick balls. “Let him see what’s gonna be taking good care of my fat cock.” Admiring your sugar daddy, bending over gliding your fingers into your needy cunt.
You want to cum again despite squirting. Suguru and Satoru always bring out an insatiable lust within you. You’d proudly be their cum stuffed whore.
Buzzing the front desk, “Don’t send or allow any calls through until I say otherwise, take a message if it’s urgent thank you.” Pressing your ass to the cold glass, shivering. Playing with your nipples, soft rubbing them, moaning the moment he lets the button go.
Suguru groans, you love the erotic way he sounds. “Nnn fuck send her over when you’re done, I wanna turn. You can put her plug back in. Wanna see her pretty ass stuffed mmm, gonna cover her soft cheeks in cum.” Grabbing Suguru’s cock, when he comes close, kissing his head.
He grabs your hair roughly turning you around, pinning your tits to the glass, keeping your ass out. Lining his fat, veiny cock up, you spread your legs apart pushing your hips back. “If she can walk sure, but you can’t fuck her ass not yet. Im taking her training slow, no reason not to savor perfection.” Spitting on your ass, smearing it with his thumb, gliding it in.
Keeping a firm grasp on your ass, groaning in pure relief. “Nothing else better than being inside you. Nnn making my legs go weak, you’re too perfect.” Grabbing your wrist, holding it behind your back. Offering your other wrist for him to hold together with one large hand.
Oreo’s m.list
♪ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♪
Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader
Summary ~ On the deadliest night of the year, you’re trapped in a flower shop, hunted by five obsessive killers. Survive the night—or become their prey.
Featuring ~ Baji Keisuke, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, and the Haitani Brothers
Extra Notes ~ Jujutsu Kaisen’s Version - Blue Lock’s Version
*Reader is implied to be a foreigner at one point. No language barrier.
This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, wattpad, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.
l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
|| Warning ||
You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.
Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.
I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.
There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.
That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
You understood that your employer baited a few naive employees to mandate the merchandise on one of the most dangerous nights of the year—you having been one of the victims of the sly persuasion. You recognized the inducement dripping from the tone of the flower shop’s owner.
“It shouldn’t be that hard to make sure the store is in good condition by the morning. This is a small business, anyway,” she chuckled, hands placed on her hips as she faced the four of you. “I mean, for god’s sake, who’d want to steal flowers?”
Now, you might’ve made a hasty decision in accepting the offer placed on your shoulders, but you were no idiot. You knew the consequences of remaining in a public environment while the duration of the chaotic night played out. Despite the risks that could take place, the price to gain was too enticing to ignore.
Most individuals would simply run around, breaking into banks and wealthier people’s homes to steal cash instead of taking an overnight shift for a boss who’s dubiously obsessed with the product—enough to schedule four of her employees, who had no certifications, as security guards. You weren’t one of those people.
You had no intention of getting slashed across the throat or shot through the head because you were a threat to someone else’s gain. You weren’t one to fight over things of that nature. You didn’t find it worth your life.
You agreed with the owner—nobody would aim for a flower shop. Especially one that attracts minimal business. The boss had already removed the cash from the registers, so the only win would be a variety of flower pots and packaged soil.
Your only job is to clean and mandate the shop.
You are currently leaning over the cashier’s counter, thumb swiping through your social media feed as one of your coworkers, Aimi, sweeps the remnants of fallen petals from the hanging plants, lowly humming a tune as she moved her arms. Chieko had just finished pinning the fabric that conceals the glass windows of the shop, taking a few steps back to admire the work as she rubbed her palms against her jeans.
“This should be good enough, right?” she questioned, turning back to face the assistant manager, who sat on a chair with a leg crossed over, phone in hand.
Jona’s gaze shifted to the covering before he dismissively waved her off, nodding. “Yeah, it’s as good as it’s gonna get.”
You exhaled sharply, setting your phone in your pocket as you stood upright. You turn to face the other employees as you swallow. “Hey, are you sure that nobody has ever tried to break in?” you question, your main focus placed on Jona.
Aimi’s irises flicked over to you before she cracked a warm smile. “Yeah! I’ve taken this shift each year, and nobody has ever tried anything,” she shrugged, setting the broom against the wall.
Chieko walked towards you before placing a hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve taken this shift for about five years, and I’m still here,” she said, her tone filled with a confident ease that should’ve relaxed your anxiety.
But you couldn’t rid yourself of the heavy pit you felt spreading throughout your stomach.
Jona rolled his eyes before leaning back in his seat, stretching with his arms held in the air. “Relax. Time flies by faster than you think.”
Your eyes shift to the cat-shaped clock that’s set on the wall at the back of the store. It reads nine o’clock, two hours into the dangerous and yet celebrated tradition. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you reach for your phone—
Tap, tap, tap.
Time freezes as you and your coworkers’ attention quickly flies to the entrance of the store. The wooden door’s silver knob rattles, the glass window’s fabric concealing the culprit.
The store is quiet, everyone paused in their positions as they study the area, concern evident in their expressions. Your head turns to Jona as he stands up, shoving his phone in his pocket as he stiffens in his spot.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” You hear the muffled sound of a male’s voice, pleading. The tone is slightly shaky but carries an edge of relative calmness as he knocks against the surface. “Please, I need help!”
You turn to face all of the employees as sweat forms on your skin. “Has this happened before?” you mutter, voice almost a whisper as you try to stay quiet.
Chieko turns towards you, swallowing before she shakes her head in denial. Aimi mimics the gesture as she stares at the door. You can see the unease settle in their presence—fingers twitching, bodies stiffening, and fear radiating off of the women.
Your eyes flick over to Jona, observing the slightly perturbed look on his expression, though contorted with annoyance.
“J—Jona! What are you doing?” Aimi hissed quietly. Her voice is dripping with an apprehensive tone that matches her mien. She attempts to reach out for him, but he moves too fast, standing in front of the door as he lifts the fabric slightly—just enough to peek out of the window.
What the fuck is he doing?!
From the angle where you stand, you fail to see his expression as he stands there for a moment. Eventually, Jona releases the fabric and walks back to the center of the room, facing all of you.
“Listen, that guy out there—he’s bloody as fuck. Nobody is allowed to unlock that door,” he says, his tone flat but edged with caution. His fingers entangle with his short hair as he frowns.
“Bloody? Did he have any weapons?” Aimi questions, eagerness in her tone. She walks closer to Jona, though still at a distance.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t see any, but I’m not taking any chances,” he says as he yanks a small knife out of his pocket. “If he somehow passes through, I at least have this to fight against him.”
You give him a pointed look. “And if he has a gun? What if he just breaks through the windows?” you question, your voice laced with irritation and worry.
Chieko clears her throat. “It’s very rare for a citizen to have a gun here in Japan,” she replies, her tone steady but with an underlying edge of concern.
“Rare, but not impossible,” Jona says before his eyes shift to you. “Look, Y/n. There’s no promise of complete safety. You knew this when you signed up. We work with what we’ve got, so it’s better to just stop asking questions and breathe, got it?”
BANG, BANG, BANG!
“Please! Help me! I—I know someone’s in there! They’re gonna kill me!” the stranger screeches.
All of you wince at the sound of the man’s shouting, his fist against the door growing louder as it vibrates the surface. You can only stand in place as shock becomes evident on the rest of your coworkers’ faces. The tension in your chest grows as the hairs on your skin stand tall. Your heart erratically beats against your chest as your pulse throbs.
“T—they’re?” Aimi repeats, whispering to herself as her hands tremble. “There’s more people?”
Chieko exhales sharply. “They could’ve meant one person, Aimi. We need to relax and come up with an escape pla—!”
The sound was sickening—a roaring rev of a chainsaw, followed by the wet, meaty rip of flesh being pierced through interrupted her statement. It was grotesque, the impact causing muffled gurgles and ragged gasps to escape from the man outside as the relentless grind of metal cleaved through bone.
Suddenly, an eerie stillness settles over the store, a silence heavy with unspoken terror as you all stand, frozen in place.
“J—Jona,” Aimi stammered, fingers gliding against her cheeks as she reached for her hair. “I—I…”
As she trailed off, you swallowed hard, eyes flicking over to Chieko, who was quiet, aside from the shallow, ragged breaths escaping her lips.
Your breathing stopped as you heard a light tapping against the window.
“Oh, Y/n… We know you’re in there! Come out and play!” the male sang, the sound of metal clanking with the glass.
Your body freezes at the sound of your name.
What?
You felt a sudden pit in your stomach as all your coworkers’ gazes locked on you.
“You know them?” Jona questioned, his brows furrowing at your form.
You gasped, shaking your head. “N—no! No, I don’t know anyone aside from you guys!”
It’s the truth. You had only recently moved to Japan after studying the language. You hadn’t had any time to make friends, so it was impossible for anyone to have known you aside from your coworkers.
Before you could defend yourself any further, a crash echoed as the force slammed into the front glass wall, shattering it. You all instinctively ducked in response.
A loud thud landed on the floor, rolling a couple of times before the headless corpse limped on the ground, a ruddy puddle oozing from the gaping neck. You sucked in a sharp breath as you jolted back in quick panic. After hearing Aimi’s scream, your head shifted to her, breaths ragged as you eyed the pieces of glass embedded in her face. Her hands shook as her lips parted in horror.
“My face! My face!” she cried, hysterical as the tears fused with the crimson running down her face. Her fingers barely grazed the sharp pieces as you and Jona stared at her in disbelief.
Your head turned to see Chieko frozen, her form stiff as she trembled, her eyes wide open as she observed the open space of the entrance.
Jona cursed when both of you matched the direction of Chieko’s gaze.
A masked individual stepped over the pointed edge that stuck out from the foundation of the gaping space, the glass cracking underneath their boot. The white plastic concealed his identity, though his blonde-and-black strands draped over his shoulders. Your eyes shift to the metal bat they drag across the floor, your heart rate spiking once the bloody edge comes into view.
Its face was contorted into a somber expression, eyes squinted and nose sculpted to scrunch, while the mouth was drawn into a deep frown. Blood stained the fabric of his clothes, as well as the white of his mask. He stood in place as the rest of the group followed, stepping into the store as the sound of glass crackled.
Your eyes flicked to the man who held the crimson-stained chainsaw, his mask’s expression sculpted into an angry gaze. The mouth mimicked the first person’s shape, but the brows were furrowed. His wavy strands were a solid black, styled similarly to the individual standing next to him. A dry, ruddy substance streaked across his mask, fresh blood covering the majority of his clothes.
Another masked person appeared, slightly diagonal to the first male who entered. His mask was shaped into a theatrical, mischievous grin. His pink hair was pulled into a neatly combed ponytail, one strand flowing over the bloody plastic shield. His glove-covered fingers stretched around the handle of the stained katana.
The other masked individual chuckled. “Seriously? This is what you were guarding?” he questioned, his tone dripping with mockery as he slung the stained machete over his shoulder. His mask was that of a grimace, his purple hair styled in a mullet. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he looked around, blood splotching both his mask and clothing.
The taller man next to him stepped forward, a baton held in the same position as the former’s machete, though his thumb slightly tapped against the handle. His mask was sculpted into a wide smile, one of humor, as he tilted his head. His short, purple hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes streaked with crimson.
He clicked his tongue. “That’s what you thought would keep you safe?” the male drawled, a smirk evident in his tone. The edge of his baton pointed in the direction of Jona, who stood with caution, holding out his pocket knife. “How pathetic.”
“Enough talk,” the man with the chainsaw said, his tone slightly cocky but firm. “Let’s wreck this place already.”
A chuckle spread throughout the quiet room. “Let’s see how fast they can run,” the blonde-streaked male said.
Instantaneously, everything moved at a quick pace.
You immediately ducked your head as the brisk swing of the baton barely missed your head, the male having taken long strides toward you before you could escape your frozen state.
He chuckled. “Pesky little thing. I’ve been curious about you for a while, Y/n.”
You made eye contact through the mask, purple irises piercing your form before he swung again. You jumped out of the way, just in time for the end of his baton to crack the register, the device flipping over and falling against the counter with a noisy thud.
How does he know my name?
A scream caught your attention, your head shifting to the right where you saw Aimi attempt to make a run for the exit, only for the gloved hand to snatch her by the back of the collar, shoving her to the floor against the corpse. Just as the pink-haired man stepped over her, you rolled out of the direction the edge of the baton smacked, bouncing against the floor.
“I’m curious if you’re worth my time. I’ll see if you make it through the night,” he said, his tone dripping with sick amusement.
You stumbled as you lifted yourself up, just as your gaze switched to Jona, his hand holding up the knife as the purple-haired man walked toward him. “This is too funny,” he chuckled.
CLANK!
The loud sound that echoed throughout the room caught your attention as your gaze shifted to the left. You sucked in a sharp breath as you saw the finishing impact of Chieko’s head being forced to the side, blood splattering in the air as she landed on the ground. She groaned as the male lifted his bat, slamming the end of the metal against her skull over and over. The sickening crunch of the broken bone caused bile to burn your throat, a burning lump caught as you felt the tears prick your eyes.
This is really happening. We’re all gonna die.
“Chieko!” Jona screeched, though the distraction only caused his eventual demise.
I should’ve been more prepared. I should’ve known.
The ear-splitting rev of the chainsaw started up just as the masked male snuck behind the man holding the pocket knife, the metal piercing through his waist at an agonizingly slow pace. Jona’s lips released choked gasps as he stood in place, his head slowly turning toward you with his eyes wide open. You watched as crimson gushed down his chin, the sound of the drops from his cut torso splatting on the ground as his body split open.
Your fingers twitched as you moved, the edge of the baton grazing your shoulder as you jumped out of the path just in time, landing painfully on the messy ground. The palms of your hands slid against the liquid pooling around the area. Your head lifted in time to see the male with the katana place his foot on Aimi’s chest.
Her hands shook as she braced herself. “Please! Please, don’t kill me! I’m not ready to die!”
The man crouched over her, katana across his lap as he leaned against his knees. He brought his free hand to his mouth, index finger pressed against his lips as he shushed her.
“I’m doing you a favor, you know? With that ugly face of yours and all. You should be thanking me,” he mused, a grin evident behind the mask before he stood upright. His arms raised with both hands wrapped around the katana before he lifted the blade over his head.
You stumbled over the slick blood, picking yourself up just in time for the blade to slice through the head of your former coworker, the grotesque sound of flesh splitting meeting your ears. The man with the baton stared down at you while you ran for the gaping hole in the wall.
Before you could escape, your arm was yanked back, a tight curl of the male’s fingers holding you in a painful grip. “Where are you going? The fun’s just begun,” the male with the bat taunted.
He tossed you on the ground, your body landing with a thud before you scooted back, crimson spreading across your skin as you surpassed the corpses, eyeing the men whose attention was now placed on your trembling form.
Just as you attempt to pick yourself up, the male with the chainsaw in one hand crouched in front of you. Before you can stop your reflexes, you ball your hand into a fist before back-handing the man with an upward curvature, his mask flying off as the strap slides off his head.
Your breathing is ragged as you hear the whistles and snickering in the background, the black-haired male slowly facing you with piercing brown irises. His gaze is locked on you, expression contorted in an irritated and yet amused look. His free hand reached for the cheek you hit.
Your eyes goggled in recognition. “You—!”
The customer.
One of your regulars.
The only difference is that his hair is down and his glasses are vacant.
“B—Baji?”
He smirked. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said before his free hand shot to your throat, fingers curling tightly around the surface as you reached for his hand.
You attempt to peel his fingers off your throat, but he only tugged you upward to match his height as he stood upright. Your nails pierced his skin as you struggled to breathe.
This is it.
“You have any idea how long we’ve been waiting for this moment?” he said, his voice dripping with impatience and a wicked grin planted on his face.
He held you in place for a moment as his eyes flicked over your expression, the sharp gazes of all the men grazing into your skin as they studied you like predators observing their prey.
“Hey, Baji, how about we have a little fun?” The pink-haired man drawled, closing in on your space as he walked forward.
The black-haired man chuckled. “What do ya have in mind?” His grin widened as he stared at you.
You continued to struggle, your heart beating against your chest as your feet dangled in the air.
“A little chase, huh?” he purred, head tilting. “Sounds fun to me.”
“Oh shit, that sounds like a great idea!” the male with the bat said with enthusiasm. “Let’s give her a head start.”
The man with the grimace on his mask hummed. “Sounds fun enough,” he shrugged.
The man with the baton chuckled. “Let’s see how far this bunny can jump.”
Suddenly, your knees met with the hard surface of the floor as Baji leaned over you.
“You get a ten-second head start. If one of us catches you…” he paused as he leaned closer. “You’re mine.”
—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.
wc: 1355
Your breathing is ragged as the platform of your shoes slams against the pavement. The night is surprisingly quiet aside from your heavy steps as you rush down the street.
“Please, please, please,” you plead to nothing as the breeze kisses your skin, the chill of the night causing goosebumps to rise from your hair follicles.
The adrenaline in your veins pumps as the heavy beating of your heart erratically thumps against your chest. There’s a tight constriction in the pit of your stomach and an ache that’s spreading throughout your calves.
—
O.M.G. This is fucking gorgeous, magical and beautiful
Evangeline and Jacks - Artwork by @palinlineart on Instagram