✩°｡ ⋆ UNHOLY MATRIMONY

Someone New Masterlist

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

i'll find my way (back to you) | todoroki x reader | masterlist

pairing - todoroki shouto x reader

summary -

Your life is going the way you want it to - a restaurant of your own, great friends and a mostly successful escape from the clutches of canon. It’s just the infuriatingly attractive and interested Pro Hero that complicates things.

(Todoroki Shouto x Reader: the one where you realize that dodging the world of Heroes is impossible. Especially when you’ve got Todoroki popping up at every turn.)

disclaimer - I am not Japanese and I am not a chef. This fic is the result of a lot of thinking and research. Isekai/reincarnation also plays an important role in the story so just keep that in mind.

chapter links

one

two

three

four

five

six

cross-posted on ao3 here

Being a housewife but not really knowing what the hell you’re doing, you had to get married early because your husband is a BigWig(?) with sponserbilities to take care of… but you’re also sort of neglected by him because he’s So Busy trying to Make It Big…

And you somehow end up neighbors with Bakugo, who, two seconds into meeting you decides that he literally can’t be mean to you: looking a right mess with a naked baby on your hip and messy hair 24/7… but still always offering him the bentos your husband doesn’t take to work and inviting him in for tea…

Might as well call this man a trampoline with the way i would be bouncing on it

— twist of fate

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.

I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.

Word Count: 1.8k.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’.

I love you— what a big fucking lie.

You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.

Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.

“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.

You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.

“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.

Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”

“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.

You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.

“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”

“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”

You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.

“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.

“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”

“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.

“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.

You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”

“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.

You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.

“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.

“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.

“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”

Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.

“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”

“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”

“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”

“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”

It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.

You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.

“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”

His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.

“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.

“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”

“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.

“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”

“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”

“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”

“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”

You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.

You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”

“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”

You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.

Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.

“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”

“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.

“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.

“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.

“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”

Hurt

Dabi x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 3.3K

⇢ plot: You've been seeing Dabi for some time now, but it's far from a healthy relationship. Still so, unexpectedly it all escalates one evening.

⚠️Warning: some language and descriptions may be upsetting if you are sensitive to blood, gore, or grotesque imagery.

⇢ warnings: 18+, angst with smut and a bad ending, Dabi's a prick, implied toxic relationship, domestic violence, tw:burn wound, slight dubcon elements, smoking, drinking, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, cum, orgasm, angry emotional breakdown (both sides), implied cheating, yelling, screaming, blood, a bit of gore, maybe lovers to enemies?

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

personal note: have somehow been in the mood for writing angst and hurt recently. Special thanks to @hunajan for helping me rephrase a lot of sections <3

You didn't hear anything besides the sound of the torrential downpour of rain, not even the sloshing sound of your soaked shoes hitting the wet pavement.

Looking up into the sky and letting the rain pelt onto your face, you had to laugh — not a word about cloudbursts in the weather forecast this morning.

Life had a not-so-subtle way of fucking you over.

Continuing your way home, you rolled up the collar and pulled the coat tighter to prevent the chilly water from running down your back.

It was useless.

Clutching your bag to your chest, you hoped that at least your cellphone and wallet would survive the heavenly onslaught.

While wiping the water from your eyes, you continued walking towards the high rise that you lived in. Even though it was a short walk from the train station to your apartment, you were already soaked down to your core.

With cold and numb fingers, you dug your keys from your soggy pocket before slowly unlocking the door to your apartment. Once dragging your tired feet inside, you clicked the door shut and locked it behind you.

After flicking the living room light on and stepping out of your shoes, you got out of your drenched clothes that let out a moist sound once hitting the floor. You straightened up and stretched yourself with arms raised high before staggering towards the bathroom.

Allowing the steamy water of the shower to warm up your cold skin, your brain slowly started turning its gears.

And with that came back the memories of him.

Another night of being all by yourself in the empty apartment and sleeping alone. You kept telling yourself to stop wallowing and move on. That he wasn't any good for you, that what you had with him was toxic. You kept trying to convince yourself that this had to end, hoping that he would never appear again.

But you also knew those were pointless thoughts.

Once dried off and with the towel still crowning your head, you walked towards the kitchen.

Lingering in your own thoughts, you recalled that he had disappeared again without warning or a prior message. It had been weeks now since you last saw or heard of him.

Whether he was dead, hurt, or gone forever, you didn't know.

And you didn't care anymore.

As if.

After pouring yourself a glass of Gin, you strode over to the couch and slumped down on it — not wanting to think about him or what you were going to do next. You just needed some time for yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe.

Still, there was no denying it – you yearned for him so badly and yet he kept disappearing and keeping you at distance. You placed the blame on your stupidity and loneliness for missing him so much.

With heavy emotions bearing down on you, you braced your face in your hands and let the tears run free.

You felt so broken inside, so unfilled.

You took a big inhale and released your face before reaching for the glass with the clear liquid in it.

You stared at it as if it was telling you that it would all be better if you just poured it down your throat. Without hesitation, you brought the glass up to your lips and gulped the Gin with the best intention to numb that annoying nagging voice inside of you.

It kept the thoughts in your head from racing, those half-lidded cerulean eyes from staring so seductively at you from behind your closed eyes.

You were on your second glass when the alcohol started working. Your mind dazed over, your brain all warm and fuzzy — when suddenly there was a distinct knock on the door.

You sat up sharply and focused your stare at the door.

As you checked what time it was, you knew there was only one person in this world showing up at your door this late.

And of all people, he was the last person you wanted to talk to right now.

You kept staring, wiping away the tears with your forearms, not moving when you heard a second thump, this time more demanding.

“Go away–-” You mumbled, surprised by the slur in your voice.

“'M happy to see you too.” a husky rasp came from across the door.

“Just leave me alone—” you were trying hard to sound like you meant it.

"Not gonna happen," his voice low and saturated with determination, "Lemme in."

"I'm not going to, Dabi," It was the Gin that encouraged you to be louder and more brave than usual.

Silence followed as the spoken words were slowly absorbed by the thick walls surrounding you.

"I wanna see you," he tenderly added.

You swallowed down a big sob, regained your composure, and muttered, "So what? Didn't seem to miss me the last two weeks you've been gone."

Silence.

"Dabi?"

"Still here…" you heard a thump outside the door that was followed by the same silence again.

You wiped your remaining tears off your lashes and strode over to the door. There was no sound outside except for the faint sizzle when he took a drag from his cigarette.

You leaned your forehead against the door, "You're not gonna leave, are you?"

"Nope, doll," he exhaled, the faint yet familiar smell of cigarette smoke invading your apartment and tingling your nostrils.

You turned around with your back and head resting against the door before slowly sliding down as your legs were too exhausted to hold up your weight.

"Dabi, seriously, this is not going to work."

"C’mon babe, just let me in and we’ll talk," his voice seemed to trail off.

"You can't keep doing this. I- '' you swallowed hard, bracing yourself, “I really like you. But you keep hurting me."

There was a pause again and a shuffle outside as he seemed to lean against the door.

"Can't we talk about this inside?" His voice was hoarse and low, creeping underneath your skin and having goosebumps erupt all over, "Just let me in."

"It'll only end up again with us in bed and nothing solved—" you exhaled, the corner of your lips trembling with unavoidable emotion.

An evident sigh was heard from outside, "Look, 'm sorry."

You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as if that would help understand the words better, "You're what?"

"Heard me alright, don't ask me to repeat it again," he scoffed at once, "Gonna let me in now, doll?"

You knew that stewing by yourself wasn't going to help sort out this issue, so you rolled your eyes and sighed, "Dabi?"

"Yes?" He grumbled lowly.

"Promise that we'll only talk if I let you in? Nothing else?"

"Anything for you, doll face," he rasped with a breathy chuckle.

So you stood up, unlocked the door, and let him in. Without waiting, you sat down on the couch before grabbing your drink again. The couch sank in when he sat down next to you, leaning forward to grab the remote, switching the TV on.

No other sound was in the room except for the TV, him staring at it as if you weren't there. It made you sink down even further into the cushions, unsure of what to say next.

You bit your lower lip and restlessly gnawed on it while fumbling with your hands. He flipped through the channels, filling the room with anything but conversation. His cold eyes glanced over to you, seeing how you nervously fiddled your fingers.

Then without a warning, he was on you, your protests muffled by his tender yet fierce lips on your neck and his hands trailing up your side.

Just as you were about to complain, you were cut off by his hands grabbing your face before he crashed his lips against yours. One of his hands let loose and guided yours down until it pressed against his clothed erection.

As he pulled back, a silver string of saliva connected your lips, his rapturous blue eyes looking down at you while still using your hand to stroke himself off, "Babe, I know you want this—"

His voice was low and husky as he groaned lightly in that specific way that made your face heat up and lust bloom inside your belly.

You gulped, letting him continue, the feeling of his hot and hard meat straining against his pants too enticing.

His lips spread into a cocky grin and he dipped down again. His hand released yours just to slide under your shirt, up your body, and onto your breasts.

Strong arms found their way around your back, pulling you close as he flipped around, placing you right on his crotch.

You let out a reluctant squeak as he jerked his hips up into you slow and lazy, grinning at you for biting your lips to suppress more whimpers.

“Want me so badly, huh?” he growled softly.

He firmly pulled your body against his and stared into your eyes before bringing his lips against yours. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, making you draw a deep, heady breath in response to the wave of heat sweeping through you. The corner of his mouth curled into a sheepish grin, as he lightly slipped his tongue between your lips. Then, with his soft warm mouth abusing yours, sucking your lips, he dipped his tongue past your lips, coaxing them open.

You felt a fluttering inside, your body craving him so badly. A shallow gasp escaped from within you while his breathing became heavier, the tidal wave of lust that had just churned within you grew rapidly into a full-blown tsunami.

He pulled back a little and looked at you, shakily exhaling.

Hooking his fingers under your shirt, he pulled it off and your bra followed with one smooth snap of his talented fingers, having your breasts spill free.

With tongue flat against your skin, he licked along your breast before sealing his mouth around your puckered nipple and starting to suck the sensitive nub hard. A gasp fell from your lips, making him smile, his teeth grazing along your delicate flesh and sending shivers up your spine.

"Let's move this somewhere more comfortable," his raspy voice mumbled and before you could protest, he forced his lips on yours again and swallowed up your feeble protests. His hands dug into the skin of your butt and with a swift strong move, he got up and carried you off to the bedroom.

He laid you down on the soft sheets, his mouth still attached to yours as he made quick work of your pants, pulling them off in one go.

Every little mewl and protest was relentlessly swallowed up by him while his hand slid underneath the hem of your underwear, his dexterous fingers starting to play with your sensitive nub, dipping down repeatedly between your folds to gather your juices. You moaned softly in response, having him snicker and release you before admiring the glistening strings of your slickness between his spread fingers.

“You're soaked baby," he chuckled, "Can't tell me you don't want this.”

“I didn't want this to end in bed—” you protested but he just tutted quietly while getting up and undressed.

"Your body’s telling me otherwise" he cocked his head, staring you down as his lips curled into a smirk.

He leaned back as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his lean, muscular torso.

His nimble hands unbuckled his pants next, pushing them along his thighs before they dropped to the floor and allowed his thick cock spring free— he never was too fond of underwear.

After stripping you out of your clothes, he moved his body on top of you and leaned in for another longing kiss.

With an agonizingly slow pace, he guided himself into you, thrusting his length inside inch by inch. He let you adjust to his size for a moment before starting to move, at first just grinding into you, then deeper, hitting just every right spot each time he sank into you.

There was no denying it. It felt so good to be so close to him. Feeling him inside of you as he fit so perfectly.

He pinned you down with his whole body, breathing heavily as he started fucking you. You clung to each other tightly as his hips smacked loudly against yours. He didn't stop kissing you, hunting for your tongue, your moans and whimpers mingling with his needy groans.

As he picked up the pace, you started to get lost in the pleasure, calling out his name over and over again. Unable to focus on anything else but the feeling of him inside of you, you felt so overwhelmed by his deep, unrelenting thrusts.

He gripped your throat, forcing you in place as the tingling inside you grew into a white heat, the tension in your core growing tighter and tighter until the coil snapped and you came.

Shockingly loud moans mixed with his name spilled from your mouth, your back arched as waves of pleasure ran through you, having you clamp down on him like a vice. His hips stuttered and he followed you into bliss with a long, drawn-out groan, releasing his creamy seed deep inside of you.

He stayed in place, softening cock still inside of you with no intentions to pull out. Even though you felt sweaty and a little uncomfortable, it was nice to have his heartbeat thumping against your own.

All worries were swept away at that moment, feeling so blissed out, so close to him.

Then he rolled off, but instead of laying with you, he stood up and strutted off to the bathroom. You heard water running as he started washing himself off.

After he was done, he simply walked over to the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor and got dressed.

"Ok, I'll be going then," with this he turned towards the door.

"You what?" You uttered in disbelief, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Heard me right, babe," his bored eyes gleaming down at you.

"W-Why— and where?" You swung your legs off the bed, hastily grabbed your shirt, and pulled it on.

"None of your fuckin business," his dry answer made your stomach twist.

"Dabi, we just had this discussion—" you swallowed the rising bile before slowly walking over to him, your voice getting louder with every word, "Stop closing up like this and stop walking away!"

"This is fuckin’ stupid," he hissed while sauntering towards the door.

"I can't do this anymore!" with your admission, hot, angry tears sprung to your eyes.

He spun around, seething, "What do you fucking want me to say, huh? To move in together? Share a fucking life?" His eyes were glowing with rage now and you made out a faint scent of burnt skin wavering through the room.

"All I want is for you to start being honest with me!" you yelled back at him.

You didn't even have time to inhale, he was on you that fast, grabbing your chin and pulling you close.

"Oh, you want the truth, huh? S'that what it is?" His furious eyes boring into yours.

You ripped at his arm, trying to pry it off of you but his grip was relentless. His digits dug into your delicate skin, sure to bruise the next day. Using his own body to back you up, he shoved you a few feet and you stumbled before he let go of you.

Catching yourself, you glared at him before rubbing your sore cheeks, "If you just need someone to blow off steam, go and just fuck some other girls."

"Oh, 'm already doing that, doll," his lips curled into a cocky smirk, cold eerie eyes scornfully burning into yours as he stood there, grinning at you with full pride.

Your heart stopped as those words sank in. All the rage that built up instantly disappeared and was replaced with a numbing cold sensation.

You couldn't control it. Your hand automatically came up and slapped him across his face.

"You're just as heartless as your father!" It barely came out as a whisper.

He froze, his chilling voice, colder than you had ever heard, growled, making goosebumps erupt on your skin, "What did you just say?"

Maybe it should've been a warning, but you didn't care anymore. The rage inside flared up again, blooming once more too strong, too hot, in your veins.

You glared at Dabi, jaw set as you forced out, "You heard me alright, you're just like Enj—"

It happened in a blur — he was on you with a vicious roar, his face contorted into a grimace, roughly shoving you across the room and against the wall by your shoulder.

There was a bright blue flash before your head and back hit the wall with such force that punched the air from your lungs.

Your vision darkened, ringing as shrill as a fire alarm in your ears— white spots danced across your retina as the taste of copper slowly overtook your tastebuds.

You first smelled it. The acrid, stomach-churning odor of burnt flesh and hair. Nauseatingly sweet and putrid, the smell was so thick and rich you could almost taste it.

Choking on air, your mind hurled back into reality with the speed of lightning. The throbbing pain in the back of your head shot through your brain, making it hard to stay conscious but you managed to stay awake anyways.

Your eyes refocused and your gaze wandered up, until your eyes met Dabi’s. And what you saw scared you more than anything you'd seen before. His usually controlled expression was now ridden with horror, even shock. His mouth kept closing and opening, desperately trying to form words. But nothing came out.

His hand, outstretched, was still smoking.

You followed his hollow gaze and turned your head towards your shoulder. Where his hand had grabbed you just a moment ago, was now an unrecognizable horrid mess of a blackened, flakey wound the size of Dabi's hand. The charred and open area of flesh was surrounded by blistered and bleeding tissue, splitting and curling away from the layers below. Surprisingly, you felt no pain though.

No, instead you felt empty.

As if from far away, you heard yourself mutter "Get out.”

"M Sorry—" He croaked, voice hoarse with shock.

Gathering all your strength, you pressed out between gritted teeth "I said to get out,” your mind swirling, trying to stand tall, swaying nonetheless.

Despair filled his expression, eyes helplessly darting between your marred shoulder and your face, his lips opening to repeat those words "M’sorry, doll, I– I didn't–"

Cold anger kindled inside you, eating you up and making you forget all about your mangled shoulder. Your vision turned from dull to red as you threw yourself at him, pounding at his chest with both your arms, having the skin of the burnt shoulder crack open and start to bleed.

"Get out, get out, get out!" Your screams were ringing through the room, echoing in your ears.

You threw yourself at him with all your might as Dabi stumbled backward each time - pale and shaking, still mumbling incoherent apologies.

You felt a surge of power as you reached out for your door, yanked it open, and pushed him outside with your last effort, before throwing the door shut and turning the lock.

For a few moments, nothing was heard from the other side before the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, becoming quieter until they faded completely.

Silence settled in.

Heavily panting, you swayed before falling to your knees, a mind-numbing pain starting to emanate from your shoulder, almost blinding your vision. You started rocking back and forth, tears continuing to flow as bitter sobs wracked your body, robbing you of the ability to scream and hardly allowing you to draw a breath.

There was not a sound to be heard from the other side of the door.

He was gone.

Forever.

Warm blood dripped down your arm and torso, pooling on the floor, slowly gelling as you kept crying - until you were empty. Empty and dead inside.

You knew it.

Life had a not-so-subtle way of fucking you over.

Love Comes Tsundere - ch.1

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader

Work In Progress AO3

I write for attention. <3

A complicated villain takedown puts Bakugou Katsuki in a cumbersome position with the Hero Safety Commission. To appease the commission, Bakugou reluctantly agrees to enter an arranged marriage with you, the quirkless daughter of a prominent member on the commission. Now you and Katsuki have to figure out how to live and maybe even learn to love someone you don't truly know.

Warnings:

R-18 Adults Only, Explicit Content, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Gradual Romance, Eventual Smut, Tsunder Bakugou Katsuki, Female Reader, Loving Sex, Sweet Sex

Chapter 1 - The Catch of The Lure

The warm scent of freshly printed paper and the still silence of an empty office made for a boring wait, especially if you were a pro hero strongly accustomed to action. The drone of professional gray walls, chill of metal filing cabinets, and the reek of power from a fancy polished desk told the young hero that person who occupied this office was powerful but most likely impotent. On top of that, the office jackass was making the hero waiting damn near forever to talk about damage control. Inconsiderate bastard.

Finally, the door opened and the overcompensating ass himself walked in. "About damn time!" The young hero growled, his piercing red eyes shooting the older man a death glare. "I've been waiting for damn near an hour."

"My apologies, young Bakugou," The drawl of his false regret caused Bakugou's eye to twitch as the man moved past Bakugou's chair to sit at his desk, "it's quite a mess out there, you know."

"Of course I damn know!" Bakugou huffed, running a hand through his spikey, blonde locks. "I got stuck in the middle of all that damn shit and there was nothing I could do to stop it!"

"Yes, quite an unfortunate turn of events. It's a shame but also understandable, you were off-duty and were ill-prepared for dealing with the chaos. It is a bit of a complex situation but I think I can manage to resolve with minimal damage." The man's tone dripped with satisfaction and Bakugou couldn't help the feeling that somehow this guy had something over him and planned to use it against him. "I can have this whole little 'incident' cleared up for you in no time, but in return I have a request to make of you."

Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh, "Of course you do. Well, what the hell do you want?"

The smsug smile on the office bastards face made Bakugou's skin crawl. "Why, I'm so glad you asked. I've noticed that throughout your entire high school and rookie hero career, you've never had yourself a pretty little lady to swoon on your shoulder. Now that could be because you're waiting for the right little lady or maybe you feel as though you don't have time for petty relationships with your line of work and wanting to be number one, but I have my own theories... Personally, I think you just lack the drive for it. Instead of pursuing girls like most men, you chase after power and success. I've heard a few rumors that you're simply not interested in the opposite sex, but I think if that were the case you would have made a move on that Red Riot you used to go to school with. Either way-"

"Is there a point behind all this or do you just like hearing yourself talk?" Bakugou interrupted, disliking how the man brought up his love life.  Lack the drive? Bakugou's blood boiled. Unlike this impotent ass I don't need some random bitch to help me get off! Just 'cause I'm not chasing horny ass females like a dog in heat doesn't mean I'm impotent. And what the hell is he implying about me and Kirishima? Who the hell does he think he is? He'd never admit it, but he had always thought of Kirishima as a brother. He'd never thought of his red-haired friend in that manner before.

The man tapped his fingers on his desk and eyeing Bakugou and taking into account the blonde's obvious aggravation. He considered his next words carefully. "Yes, I suppose I should be getting to the point. I, and many of my colleagues, are not particularly thrilled at the idea of helping you clean up this mess, nor are we obligated to. That said, I'm willing to resolve the outside issue for you if you agree to marry my daughter." 

"You want me to do what?" Bakugou blinked, knowing full well what he'd heard but wanting to confirm it.

"Marry my daughter." A slimy, satisfied smile plastered the bastard's face. He turned a photo on his desk for Bakugou to see. "Marrying her off to a powerful, young hero is my best course of action for making sure she is cared for when I'm gone. You see, she's quirkless so she needs someone strong with a good head on his shoulders to take care of her."

Bakugou stared at the photo, the young woman in the picture wasn't terrible looking. Plain, [s/c] skin and simple, [h/c] hair framing a shy face with [e/c] eyes. She didn't look like she would be a bitch, she kind of looked like a nerd. Like damn Deku. He glanced back at her bastard father. What if she was like him? "What happens if I don't marry her?" He had to weigh all his options. Even if she wasn't horrible to look at and had a decent personality, he still wasn't overly fond of marrying a complete stranger.

"Well, let's just say without me to help clean up the mess then you'll likely lose your hero license and any chance at being a hero down the road. No one else will help you, especially if I tell them I tried to help you and you turned me down. Add to that the fact that you aren't exactly equipped with the tools for fixing this mess and your chances at getting everything resolved disappear completely and leave you and your hero career in the dust."

Bakugou stiffened, sparks popping from his hands. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

"True, but the public won't see it that way." The man pointed out smugly, clearly not intimidated by the little explosions going off. " If it helps, you can think of it this way-you don't necessarily have to love her, just marry her and take care of her for the deal to be in place. If she doesn't satisfy your needs or neither of you are interested then just get you a little honey to keep on the side."

A long moment of silence passed before Bakugou spoke again, his head spinning. He hated how nonchalant the bastard was about implying having multiple girls to satisfy different needs. It certainly didn't feel right, but if he wanted to become the number one hero then he couldn't afford to lose his hero license even if only for a short while. With a defeated sigh he asked, "When do we get married?"

Family Man

Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru wakes up in the body of Sawai Satoshi, a 35-year-old man with a wife and a newborn

(Warnings: Yandere, dark, brief contemplation of torture, ooc gojo, he gets better tho, explicit smut, dubcon(?), piv sex, f!oral recieving, not many warnings in this one...)

One morning, Gojo Satoru wakes up in a bed that isn't his. 

His bedsheets are expensive, silk, nothing less. He feels cotton pillowcases, and the bed feels smaller. 

He must have gone home with someone last night. 

He can feel them cuddled up to his side. Usually, he's gone by the morning, but he must have fallen asleep. Makes sense: missions these days have been getting more and more exhausting. 

Within his thoughts, he can admit that it's a nice way to wake up, but he needs to go. The sun's already high in the sky, and Ijichi will turn into a nervous wreck if he's late, again. At this point, Gojo just pities the man for even trying. 

When he shifts, the figure next to him moves too. A voice, soft and raspy. 

"Satoshi. Stop moving." 

He must have given an alias. Or maybe you just didn't remember his name. 

You're still half-asleep. Your brow is pinched in annoyance, and he finds that a little funny. You're a foreigner. He can tell from your skin tone, your hair, your accent. Despite your face buried in the blankets, he finds you pretty, and it felt like a good night.

But you two did fuck, right? 

It doesn't feel like it. He doesn't feel like he just had sex. He can't even remember what he did with you. When he looks down, Gojo realizes that he's dressed in clothes he knows he doesn't own. 

Also, he isn't wearing a blindfold, but his eyes aren't hurting. 

Too many things are wrong. When Gojo calls for his technique, he feels nothing. Too many things are going wrong. Was it you? Were you some curse user that lured him into bed or something? Did you shut off his CT? He needs to figure it out. Is there rope nearby? A knife? He needs something sharp that will make you scream and cry but he can't take too much blood because if you pass out he won't get answers- 

And then, he does hear crying. Muffled. 

It's coming from a baby monitor. 

"Ugh, no." You groan. "I thought we'd have a few more minutes." 

You're shuffling off the bed, stretching before you shoot him a sleepy smile. 

"I'll get her. Breakfast will be ready in twenty." 

You blow him a kiss, and then you're gone. 

Gojo sits up, and he studies himself again. 

His hands are shorter, unkept. The thing that unnerves him the most are the scars. Papercuts, blemishes. He's never gotten a scar in his life. Infinity protected him from that. 

But he doesn't have infinity anymore. And he doesn't think he's Gojo anymore, either. 

When he stands, he feels shorter, too. The world is bigger when he creeps into the bathroom. He flicks the lights on and looks in the mirror. 

Satoshi stares right back at him. 

↻

Gojo doesn't like being surprised. 

He actually hates surprises, so this shit is starting to put a damper on his mood. 

He considered that it may be a dream, but everything is too realistic. It has to be someone's shitty cursed technique. All that he knows is that he's currently possessing Sawai Satoshi's body. 

Age 35, from his license. The picture of him depicts a man who's starting to bald, and timid eyes. Gojo's pretty sure he's an office worker. A family man. Judging from the pictures, he and his wife just had a baby girl a couple of months ago. 

Sawai's wife. You. 

First things first, he needs to find this Satoshi guy. There's a big chance that Sawai is out there in Japan with his body and cursed technique. That is not good. And if anyone else found out what happened...

Fuck, he needs to find this guy.

Being normal is strange. He doesn't get headaches from just seeing anymore, so that's nice. Without infinity, he feels the carpet, the walls, the wooden rails, the air. It's like an out of body experience.

Eh, at least he still has his humor. 

Something's talking in the kitchen, and there's babbling. He ignores it, in favor of the door. 

"Where are you off to?" 

You're right there, head tilted and an amused smile. Gojo hasn't been this stumped in a while. He blinks. 

"Work." He finally blurts out. Satoshi has an office job. He can use that excuse. 

You laugh, and it sounds like a wind chime. 

"It's the weekend." You tell him. "Did you forget?" 

Shit. You frown at your 'husband' in sympathy. 

"They're working you too hard; I keep telling you to talk to your boss." You hum. "Anyway, food's ready! Coming?" 

You don't give him a chance to respond, ushering him along until he's sitting on a stiff wooden chair. It looks like it's seen better days. The table has scuffed wood. 

Two plates are sitting on either side of the table. Still steaming. Gojo doesn't remember the last time he ate a meal that wasn't made by a microwave or apathetic servants. He's been so busy with the jujutsu world and his students and...just everything. 

Sawai's daughter is kicking her feet on the highchair next to him. She's an infant, under a year old. She babbles something in a high-pitched squeal, giggling at him. 

You coo something at her that isn't Japanese, feeding her something that resembles apple sauce. When you look over at him again, you frown. 

"You okay?" You ask. 

He stares. 

"You haven't touched your food yet?" You continue. "Don't like it?" 

"No." He says sharply. And then he takes a bite. "It's delicious." 

It's the truth. You grin, and you turn back to your daughter. 

Despite the baby's squeals, the buzzing of the fan, it's quiet. Gojo isn't used to that. Quiet, slow, peaceful. He's used to fast, blinding flashes, urgent messages from sorcerers calling him all across the globe. Roaring special grades with sharp teeth and human-like smiles. 

Is this what being human felt like? 

He takes another bite, and he thinks he forgot to do something. 

↻

It's easy to piece yours and Sawai's lives together. 

He worked overseas. That's where he met you. You were a traditional dancer in your country, and considering the various medals and pictures, you were good at it. Gojo wonders if that's how you and Sawai met. If he was just among the crowd and saw you on stage. Did he make the first move? Or did you see him fidget in the corner before you gathered enough sympathy to talk first? You and Sawai got married in your country before you moved to Japan. Reina is your first child. You're a homemaker. Sawai is a salaryman. You two would celebrate your fifth anniversary this year.

It's a simple, normal life. Gojo finds it a little boring. 

Breakfast was nice, but he needed to get out of there. Gojo couldn't afford normal. 

You caught him again in his second escape attempt. 

"Why are you so ansty today?" You ask, folding laundry. "You're usually ecstatic to sleep on the couch all weekend." 

Because he isn't Sawai, he doesn't lounge around all day on the couch. But he can't tell you that. From all accounts, you look like a non-sorcerer, so clearly, this body-switching fiasco isn't your fault. Though, the name Sawai sounds familiar, but Gojo can't place it. 

"You've even gotten Oka riled up, Toshi." You fold up one of Sawai's shirts. 

Right, the cat. Sawai's cat, before the marriage. Animals have always had a better sense of cursed energy. The thing has been hissing at him all morning. Gojo wants to tell him the feeling's mutual. 

"Maybe he's hungry." Gojo shrugs. "And I've been..." 

He doesn't know what to say, so he stops. 

You sigh, tucking away the last of the laundry. He's seated on a couch he didn't buy. You sit next to him, arm stretched out so you can fiddle with his sleeve. 

"Listen, I know what's going on." 

He stares. You give a trepid smile, pulling a loose thread off his sleeve. It's barely even a touch, yet it burns. 

"It's work. It's always work. God, this morning you were so out of it, you nearly hopped on the train if I hadn't stopped you." You start. "This isn't healthy. Have you talked to your boss about some time off?" 

He and Sawai have more in common than he thought. Gojo can see it in the mirror : the sleepless nights and the stress. Is this how he'll end up in seven years? How depressing. 

A vacation. Gojo had seen the emails on Sawai's computer. His team treated him like a rat, just dumping more and more work on him. Sawai so far hasn't even told them no. This guy needs a backbone, but Gojo doubts he'll get one soon. 

But why does he care? Who gives a single shit? He needs to get out of here; why is he sitting here listening to Sawai's wife?

"Hey?" You nudge him, and Gojo is again forced to stare into your beautiful eyes. 

“You okay?”

You needed to stop doing that. Looking at him in a way no one has looked at him before. Lovingly, adoringly, like he's more precious than gold. 

That look isn't for him—he knows that—it's for the man who married you. The man you had a child with. And he needs to go. His students are waiting for him. Yaga’s blood pressure must be raising a mile per minute.

But it's so quiet here. Peaceful. 

And he doesn't feel like Gojo anymore. 

"Toshi?" You ask. It's enough to break the glass. Shards jab themselves into his brain, painful enough that he snaps out of it. 

Gojo clumsily stumbles off the couch, frazzled, vulnerable. That's dangerous for the strongest. You pull back, concerned. 

"Where-" 

"Out." He spits like poison. "I'm going out." 

What was he doing, Gojo thinks when he finally stumbles out the door. Everything looks so much different without the six eyes. Less clearer, he can't see the make up of things, he's no longer looking through that biological microscope. 

Still, it's too much. He flinches against the blinding sun. Around him people don't give him a second glance. He's not used to that, not being the center of attention. Right, he isn't six feet and towering over everyone. Now, he's one in the crowd. One of a million. 

He doesn't know where he is. Gojo knew he should've grabbed Sawai's phone but you were right there and everything gets so distracting when you're right there. 

Even when he's away from you, the house, the quiet, he still can't stop thinking about it. It's irritating. He wants to claw out his brain, shred it to ribbon just so he can stop. He's Gojo. The strongest. He wasn't made to be this: pathetic, whimsical, human. 

Gojo stops right in the middle of the street. Someone sends him a glare, but people pass him by. Nothing's any different. Cars and buses go down the road. People chatter. Kids run to school. Even when the strongest disappeared, the world still turned. Life goes on. 

He keeps looking at his hands. Scarred. And yet you held them like they were gold itself. Precious beyond anything else. A touch that wasn't coated in deep lust and greed. He must be crazy. He must be touch-starved. Was he so pathetic that a warm breakfast and a touch of kindness from the wife of the body he had taken over enough for him?

Gojo thinks he starts walking again. He isn't too sure, but the next time he stops, he comes face to face with a train station. 

Chiba, the words taunt him. It would take him less than an hour to get to Tokyo. Sawai has a little cursed energy, he could find the school. He could get this all sorted out. 

And then, he could go back to his life. Killing curse after curse. One sleepless night after another. 

Gojo needs to enter the station. He doesn't. 

He thinks about his parents, of all things. Barely involved in his youth, far far away than he ever was. The bed was always cold. The night's were dark. And then, he thinks about little Reina, with chubby hands and fingers. When she cried, you came. This morning the bed was warm from you snuggled up next to him. He hadn't slept that well in years. 

It's funny what a couple hours of humanity could do. He thought it'd be easy to leave behind. He hasn't been treated like a human for a long while. He thought the habit would be easy to shake. 

There's a hand on his shoulder. He turns. You're there. Of course you are. With wide eyes, a concerned frown. You shake him a bit. He just stares. 

"Toshi?" You call, looking around and Gojo realizes you don't even have the right shoes to be walking around. 

"Where did you go? What are you doing?" You question, your tone sinking and spilling like caramel. 

He gives no answer. Your shoulders drop. 

"Come on." You murmur. "Let's go home." 

You tug on his hand. 

Satoru follows. 

↻

"I'm taking you to the hospital." You tell him.

Satoru comes out of his daze when you speak to him. So far, you'd been talking quietly to a woman in her late forties, thanking her profusely. He zoned out after that, sitting on the couch, where you had left him. 

"No." He instantly replies. "I'm fine." 

"Fine." You repeat, a bite in your voice that he hasn't heard before. "You ran out, barely dressed, didn't even take your phone. You were gone for an hour. I had to call Miss Matsuda to watch Reina while I scrambled all over the streets looking for you. And when I did find you, you were staring at a train station sign."  

You cross your arms over your chest. "And-and now, it's like you're not even concerned at what just happened! Do you know how worried I was? How scared I was?"

You're on him in an instant, barely an inch away. Satoru thinks he can stare into your eyes forever. 

"Please, just...talk to me." 

But he also knows he needs to fix this, because Sawai's heart is killing him. 

He does what he wished he could have done with Suguru, all those years ago. For the first time in a decade, he gives into his inhibitions. 

You're warm, and you sink into his hold, collapsing on top of him like it's all you've ever wanted. He tightens his grip on you, smelling your shampoo. 

"I'm sorry." His voice is muffled but he knows you can hear him. "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I didn't mean to scare you." 

"I was just being a jerk." 

You're silent for a while. Satoru feels something wet seep into his shirt. 

"Yeah." You say, quiet, damp. "You were a jerk. I wanna call you something else but Reina's right there." 

He laughs. You do too, and then you lean off of him, taking his face in your hands so he can look into your eyes all over again. He finds himself leaning into touch. Maybe it's instinct.

"I wasn't scared of you." You say honestly. "I was scared for you. You've been acting strange all morning." 

"I know." He answers. "But I'm fine now." You give him a look. "No really, I'm fine! I just...figured myself out. It took a while." 

He's being selfish, plain and simple. Satoru was tired, exhausted. He just wants a break. The house is quiet. And he doesn't feel like Gojo anymore. Satoru decided that he's taking a break from being the strongest. He wants to see what normal people live like. 

Maybe it's pettiness, but he's a little sick of constantly solving other people's problems. For once, he would let other people do the work. 

And you're warm underneath his fingertips. 

"What did you figure out?" You ask, settled right next to him.

In the background, Reina babbles something.

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

↻

Being human has its perks. 

Satoru doesn't get headaches anymore. Usually, just a couple of minutes without his blindfold is enough to give Satoru migraines. Its odd not having it on all the time, but he can get used to seeing things the way normal people see. Without the swirls of cursed energy. 

The downside is that he can get hurt now. Even by a scrawny cat. 

"Oka!" You scold as the bastard cat races down the hallway, out of site. Satoru hisses, flexing his scratched hand. 

"What is up with him today? Let me see." Instantly, you're by his side, checking his palm. Satoru feels you're too close. Infinity doesn't keep you away. 

He wonders if he'd even want to activate his technique with you around. 

"It's not that bad." You mutter to yourself, dragging him to the kitchen. "Let's just clean it before it gets infected." 

You sit him down on the kitchen stool. It creaks under his weight. Satoru watches as you dab a cotton ball with alcohol, before gently pressing it into his wound. You're so soft when you're touching him. Like you think you could accidentally break him somehow. He finds it cute. Satoru doesn't know why he lingers on your gentleness. It's probably because no one's ever treated him like he was fragile before. Something worth protecting. 

But your protection isn't for him. It's for Sawai. 

"I definitely expected some whining." You smile, placing a band-aide on his hand. "You were always so queasy when the aid-kit came out. Guess you finally got a pain-tolerance, hm?" You tease and Sawai gets more and more pathetic in Satoru's eyes. 

You put the kit away, sliding off the stool. There are downsides of being human, but he thinks the upsides make up for it. 

The cat definitely hates him, but he doesn't care about that. Satoru just wants the quiet. It's still peaceful. 

That's interrupted when the baby starts crying. 

Satoru can hear you in the other room, hushing her, trying to get Reina to settle down. She's been howling for the past ten minutes. Satoru doesn't move from the TV. It's not his place to do anything. He isn't Sawai. 

"Okay favorite parent." He hears you grumble as you come out with a squirming Reina, still sobbing. "Your turn." 

Before he can tell you no, you're already placing the child into his lap. Satoru freezes. 

He's rarely around kids. All his students were independent teenagers. He doesn't think he's ever interacted with a baby, an infant, before. It's instinct to hold her, keeping her in his lap. He stares. Reina sniffles, her sobs quiet. 

"Every single time." You scoff, but you don't sound very annoyed. "I don't get why she likes you more than me. I'm around more, aren't I?" 

Reina is looking back at him, and he wonders who she's seeing. Her father, or the man who's wearing his skin? 

The infant sniffles a little more. Her whimpers turn into coos, then shaky breaths as she slowly starts to settle in his arms. Satoru's never had anyone feel comfortable in his arms. His hands were meant to manipulate space and time. Destroy. He's killed curses with his hands. Humans too. 

Little Reina falls asleep right in between them. 

Satoru swallows. It feels so delicate. He can barely bring himself to move. 

You sit right next to him, watching her. 

"She's so cute when she's not being a demon, hm?" You ask. Satoru doesn't respond. You lean a little closer. 

"Hey," you say, voice warm and when Satoru looks at you, you have soft eyes, "I can take her. I know you want to rest today." 

"It's fine." Satoru speaks without thinking. "I got her." 

You blink, but after a while, you move back. Satoru cradles Reina to his chest. She's soft, and he keeps an extra light hold on her because he's afraid one wrong move would crush her completely. Satoru can hear her soft snores, her light babbles. It doesn't break the quiet. 

There's a weight on his shoulder as you settle in. You let out a content sigh, and Satoru feels something fill up inside of him, something that was once void. 

"I feel like it's been a while since we've done something like this," you say, voice quiet, "just...sat together, watching her." 

Satoru thinks back to the dark circles underneath Sawai's eyes, the weight gain from stress. 

"Toshi?" You ask, and it's Satrou's habit to look back at you. "Have you ever considered Japan...might not be the best place for us?" 

He stares at you. 

"Japan is my home," he says, and he has a feeling Sawai would have said that too. 

"I know." You smile. "It's mine too. But...is that enough reason to stay?" 

You shift, leaning away from him and he misses your warmth. You rest your head against the sofa, propping your head up with a fist. 

"I was thinking." You shrug, reaching over to pick lint off of his sleeves. "Maybe we should go back to my country. If it's work...my cousin works in the same industry as you. I'm sure he can find you something worth your time. I'm sure my parents would love to be closer to Reina, too." You reach up, brushing a finger against the infant's cheek. "We'd have a community, right?" 

There it was. You were lonely. Home alone with an infant. Doing nothing but attending the house. You used to be a dancer. You were good at it. Satoru wonders how much you sacrificed for the man you called your husband. In some ways, you're a little like him. 

There's no point in lying. He isn't Sawai, even as he holds Sawai's kid and Sawai's wife. In the end, he'd have to return to his body. This was a vacation. This was just a break. 

"I'll think about it." 

He agrees anyway, just to see you beam, like sunlight streaming through the window. You give him a quick kiss. 

Satoru barely holds himself back from returning the favor. 

Everything ends eventually. For Satoru, the end came later that evening. 

There's a knock on the door. He's rising up to get it. Currently, you and Reina were out on a shopping trip. He wanted to go too, but you insisted he rested. Satoru expects mail, some kind of package. 

Gojo Satoru stands in front of him. 

Tall, wearing that black outfit, Satoru always used to wear. White hair up, blindfold covering blue eyes. It was a nearly perfect imitation of the real thing. 

"Hi," Gojo says, voice frail and weak, "I-I think we need to talk." 

Sawai is exactly what Satoru pictured. Timid, quiet, stutters through his sentences. He's still not used to his new body, angling it around, trying to sit on the couch with clear difficulty. Satoru manages to piece his story together after fifteen minutes or so. Everything was Sawai's fault, right from the start. 

"Soul switching." Satoru says when Sawai's done babbling. "What an interesting technique. And you can't control it?" 

Sawai's shaking his head. "Not really. It comes and goes by its own. I'm guessing you were in the area when it activated." 

Makes sense. When Gojo gets his eyes back, he'll pick Sawai apart more thoroughly. At this point in time, the cause doesn't matter to him. 

"Does anyone else know what happened?" Satoru asks. 

Sawai shakes his head. Good. At least he was smart. 

"No," Sawai says, "I didn't know who to trust." 

"Good instincts." Satoru responds.

"Did you tell anyone?" Sawai asks and Satoru's offended that he had the audacity to even ask. 

"No," he says anyway. 

Sawai gives a sigh of relief. "That's good." He breathes. "My wife never knew about me, or anything about jujutsu sorcery. We met after I left the clan. Not sure how I'd even begin to explain something like this." 

That's why the name Sawai felt so familiar. A minor family, with dwindling power, up in the country. They barely touch on politics these days. No wonder he left. Especially with a technique like that. It's pretty nifty, but if Sawai couldn't control it, then there was no point in harnessing it. 

"So, how does the switching back work?" Satoru changes the subject. 

At this, Sawai wilts. 

"It's pretty simple," he starts, "we just touch. But it won't work right now. It has a downtime of 24 hours." 

A time constraint technique. Annoying. Satoru strangely isn't as upset as he knows he should be. 

"Hm, no point in doing anything, then." Satoru sighs, lounging on the couch. "So if you knew all that; then, what's the point of coming here?" 

That causes Sawai to fidget. It's aggravating to look at. Satoru's eyes twitch. He hopes Reina doesn't get that. No, she should be more like you, warm and kind with eyes that look like the night sky. 

"I missed them," Sawai finally says, "I missed my wife, my daughter." 

Sawai stares at the shelves. He's looking at pictures. Of you. Of him. Of your daughter. Smiling and happy. Sawai looks years younger in those photos, but Satoru is sure those pictures were taken not too long ago.

Just then, right on his collar, on his pale, slender neck, Satoru catches a glimpse of something. It looks like lipstick. 

Oh, Satoru realizes. That's why Sawai didn't come by sooner. 

"Uh, we met a while ago. Not sure if you remember." Sawai starts, laughing sheepishly. "I think you were about 10 when I first saw you. It was back when I was still in the clan. I was a teenager, wasn't really even sure what we were there for. But I saw you. And-and I think you saw me. I just remember seeing lines and lines of servants surrounding you. You were barely taller than my hip, but the power you had already...." He clears his throat. Satoru stays silent. 

"I was jealous. Really really jealous. Of a kid! I remember thinking 'if only if I were Gojo Satoru'. And now look." Sawai gestures to his new body. Perfect perfection. "And at first I was super excited...but then I slowly realized how lifeless the world was with these eyes." 

His cold apartment. Messages from him that he reads over and over. A family that only sees him as a status symbol. No friends. It's just him against the entire world, for the entire world. 

"Your life isn't all that great either." Sawai ends. 

It's strange. All his life, the one thing Satoru always wanted was for someone to understand him. He got close to that once, but even back then he was deluding himself. Sawai was the one man who was finally able to step into his shoes, see from his eyes. The only person in the world who could ever come close to understanding him. 

And Satoru hates him for it. 

"Yeah," he says, the truth, "it isn't." 

It's quiet for a couple more minutes. Satoru feels the time bleed into his skin. 

"Gojo." Sawai starts. Satoru hums. 

"I know you're not that kinda' guy, but..." Sawai trails off, biting his lip. "did you...with...?" 

Satoru gets what he's trying to say. He grins, feigning cheeriness, shaking his head. 

"Nah man, I wouldn't do that to you." He assures. "I didn't even touch your wife. Not my type." 

And Sawai believes him. Satoru can see it in his body language, even if his eyes are covered or not. Satoru doesn't know whether or not to laugh. 

“Thank you,” Sawai sighs, “and I—”

“We’re back!”

Both men turn. You’re shutting the door, the baby strapped to your hip, while groceries are in the other hand. Sawai freezes. Satoru rises up.

“I can take ‘em,” he offers, grabbing the bag.

You thank him, and then you glance at your real husband with a puzzled expression.

“Who’s this?” You ask. Reina giggles something.

Sawai opens his mouth.

“Hi...” The word is strangled on his throat. It sounded painful to speak.

You smile at him. Eyes warm, but there’s no recognition. You turn to Satoru.

“Who’s this, again?”

“A colleague.” Satoru is stepping in. “He was just leaving, I think, wasn’t he?”

He angles that question for Sawai. Who jumps in his seat. He babbles something, before finally settling on. “Yes—yes I was just leaving.” Even now, Sawai refuses to tell you, break you from that innocence. Satoru doesn’t know whether or not he’s stupid, naive, or both.

“Tomorrow morning.” Sawai tells him, just before he closes the door. Satoru gives a hum of acknowledgment, and the door clicks shut.

“What did he want?” You call from the kitchen, the infant tucked away on the high chair.

Satoru grins. “Just about work. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Satoru finally brings it up after dinner. You’re folding the last towels, tucking them away in a drawer. Satoru watches you, the way your fingers work with delicate precision. Reina’s asleep, tucked away in her crib. The only people awake right now are you and him.

“Have you seen Oka around?” You ask. “I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

Satoru shrugs. “He’s probably skulking around somewhere. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He gives. You take it as an answer, going back to your task.

“Hey,” Satoru starts. “So, what’d you think of that man earlier?”

“Who?”

“Tall. White hair. Blindfold.”

“Oh.” You say, before thinking. “Nothing. But, I didn’t really expect someone like him to be your co-worker. I can’t see him doing a desk job.” Yeah, Satoru can’t either.

“Nothing else?” He prods.

You cast him an odd look. “No, not really. Why? What about him?”

The conversation is going nowhere. He gives up.

“Nothing.” Satoru finally says. You don’t accept it.

Instead, you turn around and watch him. Your eyes seem to pick up on something. A pretty smile graces your face, but Satoru feels something heavy form in his stomach.

“Oh my god. You’re jealous.” You gasp.

Satoru feels something hot build up on his face.

“No—”

“Yes you are!” You say excitedly. “It’s written all over your face! I’ve never seen you jealous before. I should take a picture.”

“That’s not it at all.” Satoru’s quick to say.

"The kid?" You laugh, bewildered. "How old is he? 25?" 

"28." Satoru can't help but correct but you just laugh louder. 

“A baby! God, you’re jealous of a baby.”

Eventually, your giggles subside. You stare at him with crinkled eyes.

“I am way too old to be messing around with 20-something year olds.” You assure, but your voice is teasing. “Besides, I’m interested in someone, right now. And I think it’s pretty serious.”

It’s a joke. You’re not talking about him. He averts his gaze anyway. You skip over, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“But that was extremely sweet.” You tell him. “You should get jealous more often.”

You did that again. Touch him. Without effort. Thoughtlessly.

Satoru doesn’t think he can hold back anymore.

This was your fault, he thinks, this was all your fault.

He grabs your waist before you can pull away. Soft, barely gives under his touch. You melt into him like butter, sinking and falling. He traces his hands up your hips, your chest, settling on the softness of your cheek. You let him, falling under his spell, the moment he touches you. He’s used to this. Eagerness, worship, but there’s something different in your eyes.

"What?" He asks. 

"Nothing," you say, "you're just....really different, today." 

He feels his heart quicken. "Don't like it?" 

You take a second, and then you close the distance. "No, I like it." 

You like it. 

You love it

You love Satoru. 

He kisses you like a hurricane.Pushing and biting, your gasps turn into hums and sighs when you follow his lead. Your hands reach up to his chest. He wraps his around your hips, making you walk back until your feet trip over the bed.

Satoru follows you down, never once pulling away.

“Oh my god.” You gasp when he sucks on your neck. “Toshi—toshi—”

It’s not him. This isn’t for him.

But it could be.

“No. “ He stops, stares into your eyes. “Sato.” He whispers . “Call me Sato.”

You stare at him, and Satoru is scared that you can actually see him. Peeling off his skin, seeing him for the sick man that he is.

“Sato...” You murmur.

He can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to stop himself.

“Baby.” He breathes. “Fuck, baby. Need you.”

It’s easy to work off your top, throwing it somewhere in the room. He’s only caught a hint of your frilled bra before, but seeing it broadly displayed makes his mouth water. Blue. His favorite color.

It’s like you were made all for him. No one else's.

He just didn’t get to you first.

Satoru apologizes by kissing up your chest, to your neck. He marks you so its clear as day. You trill in need and excitement, hands traveling across his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Sato.” You repeat. “God, Sato.”

“Right here.” He assures. “Right here, baby.”

When he’s done with your bra, he feasts on your newly bared skin. It’s a pretty sight. Heaving tits, going up and down right before he pounces like a feral beast. You gasp when he sucks on your nipple. He bites, before moving onto the other. Your sweat is salty-sweet. He could drink the essence of you all day.

He wants to devour you.

And the sickest thing is that you’d let him.

Sato kisses down your chest, licking at the swell of your belly, before he’s meeting your shorts. He takes them off with little flare, close to ripping them off being he’s starving and you’ve been teasing him all day. That shake of your hips every time you’re meandering in the kitchen. You must have known what you’re doing to him. You wouldn’t be smiling so widely if you didn’t.

He licks you through your panties. You’re already wet.

“This all for me?” He knowingly asks, glancing up at you.

He expects you to shyly look away. Instead, you roll your hips into his mouth.

“All for you.” You coo. “Only for you, Sato.”

You have no idea what your words just did to him.

He finds it hotter keeping your panties on, so he leaves them, only pushing the crotch area to the side so he can get a better access to your pussy.

He isn’t shy. He’s more than happy to make himself known. You’re practically gushing all around him when he latches on your clit, swirling it around his tongue. You let out this sound he hasn't heard ever, sending it straight through his cock.

“Sato, fuck.” You grab his hair, pulling him even closer. “So so good, Sato.”

He licks up to the length of your pussy, letting your strength guide him along. A dark thought pushes its way into his brain. It quickly disappears in favor of your taste on his tongue. He’s drinking it like a man parched, trapped in the dessert, and you’re his salvation.

Your hips jerk, he stills your hips.

“Easy baby,” he says, voice muffled by your cunt, “I got you.”

“Sato,” you urge. “I cant’—I can’t. Please please please.”

“Wanna cum?” He asks, feeling a little malicious. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You nod, and then you sob. His smile is evil.

“Beg for it.”

And you do. Your sweet sweet voice growing up in octaves when he obediently ramps it up until he’s tongue-fucking your hole. Your legs wrap around his neck, and Satoru thinks he’d happily die if it meant his last moments being this.

Eventually, you stiffen up, and then you sieze all over his tongue. Satoru gently takes you through your orgasm, watching when you fall back on the bed. You look at him, out of breath.

“Fuck,” you say, “where’d you learn to do that?”

He laughs, before climbing up your body to kiss your again. It’s slow, sensual, your tongues melting together as you taste what he’s been tasting for minutes. He hopes you think it tastes sweet too.

And because he can’t wait any longer, he’s pulling away to shuck off his pants. You giggle. He casts you a glance, but Satoru can’t find it in his heart to be upset.

Pushing down his boxers, he frowns.

It’s...disappointing, if he wants to say it lightly. Way smaller than his. What the fuck has Sawai been doing with you? No wonder you’re already so out of it.

It’ll have to do. Mainly because he’s so horny and he’d die if he isn’t inside of you at this very moment. And you’re sweet enough to help him, taking your legs apart, inviting him with knowing eyes.

“Ready baby?” He asks.

You nod, it’s all he can dream for.

He’s pushing himself in. You gasp, and he can feel everything. His sensitive cock jumps at your heat, the tight walls of your cunt practically bare down on him. He knows it’ll be next to impossible to fit his own dick.

He won’t stop though, not until he’s in all the way.

That’s the thought that gets him going. Rocking his hips back and forth. You’re edging him on with your ohs and Sato sato sato. Needy, needing him. A service he’s more than happy to provide.

“Breathe, pretty girl.” He tells you. “Almost there. We’re almost there.”

You whine in his ear, already impatient. God, he wants you. He wants this.

And he knows he can do better than him.

“Fuck baby, how bad is he that you turn so pretty in my hands, hm?” He asks. He isn’t looking for an answer. You’re barely paying attention to his words, eyes rolled back, close to tears. Just to torture you even more, he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Look at you. Bet he couldn’t do a goddamn thing with this limpdick, huh? Had—had to literally step aside, let a real man do the fucking.” He hisses, and you moan something he can’t decipher.

“Can’t blame ya’. This’s probably the first real fuck you’ve gotten in a while hm? Fuck—what would ya’ act like with some real dick?”

Satoru can imagine it. Him and you, nestled between his silk bedsheets. Him, bigger, stronger, pinning you down like he know you want to be. He won’t stop. He won’t ever stop. He’ll just keep fucking you and fucking you as you say Sato Sato Sato Sato—

When you cum for the second time, Satoru’s close behind. He collapses into you, feeling himself fill you up just like he should. You bite his earlob. He purrs in contentment.

But when he feels you still, he’s quick to rise back up, shaking you until you’re blinking at him.

“No baby.” He kindly says, feeling himself harden all over again. “We aren’t done yet.”

He wasn’t able to admire it the first time, but the second time around, he finally notices how pretty you are asleep.

Even when you’re sleeping, there’s a faint smile on your face. Your hair frames your face like a halo. Satoru isn’t religious, but he thinks its akin to watching an angel.

He’s watched you for hours now. He barely slept. Time was slowly running out.

And now, the sun’s starting to come out.

You’re so pretty. He doesn’t want to leave. Its almost torture to pull himself up, kiss you on the cheek, before tucking you properly in bed. You stir, but you don't wake. That’s relieving for Satoru. He doesn’t know if he has the strength to hold himself back.

This was nice. You were...nice.

But he had to be Gojo again.

The world can’t function without him. Jujutsu society would crumble. Curses would run rampant. He can’t risk it. His students, you, Reina, might get stuck in that.

For the sake of everyone, he closes the bedroom door behind him.

The prettiest girl in the world is sleeping too. Reina snored. Satoru almost laughed, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to wake her. After all, her mom had a long night.

As gently as he can, he tucks a tuft of hair behind Reina’s ear. She gurgles something, smacking her lips, and then stills again.

She looks nothing like Satoshi. Instead of being given his straggly straight hair, she was blessed with your curly locks. Her skin is deep and dark, matching yours perfectly. If her eyes were open, Satoru would see yours, warm and kind. You two even laughed the same.

Damn, even Sawai’s genes got cucked.

Satoru pats her cheek, and he promises himself to stop lingering. Even then, when he passes by one of Reina’s toys, he makes sure to pick it up, feeling the weight in his hands, before reluctantly placing it on a shelf. When he comes across your unwashed mug, he takes his time to put it in the sink.

He’s biding his time, even when he knows he can’t. He needs to be Gojo, not Satoru. He can’t be both.

....Why can’t he be both? The question stops him in his tracks.

What's stopping him from the best of both worlds? Why can't he have his cake and eat it too? What's stopping him from having this quiet in his life?

Himself. No one else is stopping him, but himself.

He isn’t Satoru. He isn’t Gojo either. He’s Gojo Satoru. The strongest. Who could fucking tell him no?

No one would dare make a fuss if he were to bring a foreigner non-sorcerer as his wife. No one would blink an eye if he adopted Reina. No one could. He’s pinnacles above humanity. He is the pinnacle of humanity.

He could have it all. Dominating jujutsu society, building up his students, you, your daughter. He could have everything he wants. It would be hard, but when has life ever made anything easy for him?

He’s sacrificed so much. He’s lost so much. He needs you. He deserves this. And he already knows he can make you happy.

If you’re lonely, he’ll make sure that his clan welcomes you with open arms. You’ll be treated like a princess. Reina would never want for nothing. He’d make sure she doesn’t even remember her biological father.

And Sawai...

Satoru can’t understand why a weapon like him is allowed to roam free. His technique is weak, but powerful, dangerous. He incapacitated one of the deadliest forces alive. With his technique, with how little control he has over it.

Others have been executed for less. Satoru will make sure of it.

Is it a bit over the top? Maybe. He knows Sawai’s enough of a mouse that he’ll just accept it if Satoru walks up to the bastard and tells him he’s taking his family. If he’s being honest, he isn’t all that mad about the body snatching thing, either. In any other case, he might even find it funny.

But he still remembers the marks on Sawai’s collar. He’d used Gojo Satoru’s looks to get cheap pussy, before deciding that he wanted to crawl back home to you.

Pathetic.

He shouldn’t even be allowed to exist on the same planet as you. Satoru won’t allow it.

And when he's dead, Satoru would be more than happy to play his part as a the acquaintance who just wanted to check up on you. Obliviously bring you closer and closer and closer until you're back in his arms.

Satoru can still taste you in his mouth. It'd be hard to wait for that again after having you, but you're someone worth being patient for.

He’s almost elated when Sawai shows up at the time they scheduled. He looks worse for wear, the stress of being Gojo is getting to him. Good. Someone like him should see what real problems are.

Sawai tries to exchange pleasentries. Satoru refuses to hear it. He stretches his hand out. Sawai does the same. Satoru closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, a short man with a balding head blinks timidly back up at him.

He’s back.

With his Six eyes, he can see you’re still sleeping. He makes sure to memorize the sight for his entire life.

“So, enjoyed being Gojo for a day?” He asks, if only to keep up the facade he doesn’t find the man absolutely pathetic.

A shy smile appears on Sawai’s face. He shakes his head.

“I guess my lesson is that I shouldn’t be too quick to judge.” He laughs. “We all have our own problems.”

“Right.” Satoru says, “Well, this was interesting. Take care of yourself, okay?” He waves, gallantly striding towards the door until he can’t hold himself anymore.

He sighs, tilting his head back dramatically.

“Y’know what man. I lied.” Satoru grins.

“I did fuck your wife.”

The last thing he sees before he slams the door shut, is Sawai’s baffled expression.

Gojo hadn’t expected to feel so satisfied, watching Sawai take his place at your husband, but he isn’t angry about it. Satoru stretches on the patio. It’s a pretty day outside. People are out and about. Birds are chirping.

Gojo catches a glimpse of a bushy tail before he’s reaching down to grab Oka by the scruff.

As expected, the bastard of a cat yowls, trying to claw at him. Oka recognizes him, a smart cat. Satoru smiles, unfazed. Infinity is back.

“Listen.” He tells the cat. "I'm gonna be your new daddy soon. So unless you wanna end up in the pound, you better warm up to me." 

Oka hisses, but he doesn’t struggle anymore. Satoru gracelessly drops him back on the ground. Oka scampers out of sight.

Sawai clearly used Gojo’s usual chaffuer to get here. It saves Satoru from making the call himself. He opens the car door, before plopping in the back seat.

At the wheel, Ijichi gives him a look.

“Did you find everything, okay? You were only in there for a short while.”

Sawai had kept true to his word. Not even Ijichi knew about the switch. That’s a bit unfortunate. Maybe if more people knew about his technique, what he could do, it might save his life.

Sawai needed to stop being so naive. Satoru was more than happy to teach that lesson permanently.

“Yup!” Gojo Satoru chirped. “Got everything I needed.”

˚୨୧₊♱ please don’t kill me mr ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel .ᐟ.ᐟ

ghostface!Dabi x fem!reader

˚₊♱ cw: smut, creampie, knife play, mentions of blood, fingering, derogatory remarks, degradation & praise mixed together cause I’m a slut for both, jealous possessive Dabi. MDNI +18

˚₊♱ word count: 4.6k

˚₊♱ A/N: my contribution for this year’s halloween, here comes your favorite psycho killer 🔪

It all came down to a fun event held at the PLF headquarters, something Toga and Twice had mostly insisted on, a Halloween party. The rest of the members were unsure, some calling it a waste of time with such childish matters, but as more thought was put into this, Shigaraki and Re-Destro in the end agreed. Some fun never hurt nobody, and the League deserved some fun time after all they had been through to achieve what they had today. Just one night to forget about the exhaustion of everything and enjoy the time.

You couldn’t deny, the thought of a Halloween party had you thrilled, the most exciting part were the costumes and makeup and the creativity that came with it. The rules for this celebration were clear: the dress code was a halloween costume, whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Even though some of the villains looked “scary” enough to the point no costumes were needed. One of these villains being a certain raven haired flame user, who was less than thrilled for such waste of time, as he said.

“Technically you’re a modern day Frankenstein, I doubt you’ll need anything to wear!” Toga said, pointing at Dabi’s piercings and staples all over his face.

“Emo Frankenstein!” Twice exclaimed.

“The party hasn’t even started and you both are already a damn headache” Dabi rolled his eyes, putting down his cigarette in the ashtray and leaning back on the couch. The League had gathered together in the lobby to enjoy some nice food before the party started later this evening.

“Hey guys, don’t be rude!” you said, hoping that Toga’s words didn’t offend Dabi in a way whatsoever, even though he didn’t really seem to care. “You could also be Hades you know? The one from the movie Hercules…who has blue flames for hair? That’s an easy option as well”

“Yeah? I think I’d need my pretty Persephone by my side” he grinned. “Would ya be willing for the role perhaps?”

His teasing question had you almost choking on the water you were drinking, the mental image of you both as Hades & Persephone had you feeling all warm inside. Oh, if only..

“Just kiddin’. Thanks for the suggestion doll, but I doubt I’ll be coming to such stupid party. Shit’s not for me,” he continued, before facing you. “But maybe I’ll pass by just to see what you will be wearing~”

“That’s a secreeet!” you grinned, though you still hadn’t decided what to wear. Too many options laid on the table.

“Yeah? Gonna be so scary people will drop dead at the mere sight of you?” he teased and you kicked his arm. “Or maybe so enchanting you’ll haunt everyone’s minds for the night, hm?”

“You worried you might be one of the victims and fall for me or something?” you smirked which earned a chuckle out of him.

“We’ll see who the victim is going to be, babe” he winked, the sentence sounding threatening and yet thrilling too.

“Oh no! Somebody’s dying tonight!” Toga giggled. “Imagine though, wouldn’t it be exciting? A serial killer going stabby stabby on Halloween night, like in the movies!”

“I’d rather live to see the day thank you” you said awkwardly, noticing Dabi grinning.

“Ya’ scared?” he asked.

“As if!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on getting ready. You had thought for you and Toga to dress up together as the angel and the devil, though she changed her mind at the very last minute and chose to be a vampire instead. You didn’t mind, being a vampire actually fit her, knowing her bloodlust. Unfortunately there was no time left for you to get other costumes and pick something else, so you got stuck as an angel. Without a devil friend. Being an angel wasn’t your absolute favorite option, but the costume made you look ethereal: a shiny white short dress with frills and bows, pretty angel wings on your back, a halo on your head, your hair nicely done and soft glowy makeup on your face. Out of many options, being an angel was the easiest and the quickest, not to say the prettiest as well, so you didn’t bother to change it. It could also pass for a white swan costume too, out of the many options you had searched with Toga on the internet to match together.

Soon enough you met the rest of the group: Twice decided to be Deadpool, Compress remained in his magician outfit, Shigaraki had surprisingly dressed up as well, a game character from the League of Legends which you had no idea of, but he looked so cool. You encouraged him to wear that costume on daily basis as well.

You rushed to the underground arena where the party would be held, and it was already booming with loud music, crowds cheering and partying, the place filled with halloween decorations, and you just knew it was going to be the best night ever. Though only something was missing. Someone.

Dabi had already decided he would not be participating , though he had been meaning to show up and look at how everyone had dressed up.

No, in fact, he was interested in you. Him not joining the party had you upset, but at least the thought of his eyes on you, checking your cute angel outfit had you excited.

Though as minutes passed, he was nowhere to be seen. You decided to text him, feeling nervous, not wanting to sound too desperate.

You: hey Dabi, aren’t you coming?

After a minute or two, you received a text back.

Dabi: Ain’t making it tonight, doll. Too tired, I’m thinking of calling it a night and just pass out.

You: oh, okay then, sleep well!

Turning off your phone you let out a sigh of frustration, disappointed that he wouldn’t see you tonight. Of course you’d still have fun with the rest, but as you had applied your makeup earlier and dolled yourself up, your mind was occupied only by Dabi.

“Heeeey angel, why so serious tonight? Come on, let’s dance!” Toga’s loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The little vampiress grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to the dance floor along with Twice.

“I love this song!” you shouted, finally catching up with the rhythm of the music and enjoying yourself, not paying much attention to the prying eyes of the audience from afar. The sight of you dancing confidently, swaying your body and lost in the music, managed to get quite the attention from many people. Here and there people would come and join you, men you didn’t recognise, dancing with you as well. You didn’t mind, already made up your mind to enjoy this night at the fullest.

He doesn’t like that one bit.

As you danced, from time to time you would catch a quick glimpse of someone, who was in the middle of the crowd but not dancing like the rest. He was tall, dressed in dark clothing, gloves, and a mask which you recognised to be Ghostface from the movie “Scream”. At first you didn’t pay attention to him, but as time passed, you noticed the Ghostface killer was in fact staring at the dance floor where everyone was dancing.

Staring at you.

“I’m gonna grab a drink!” you told Toga who probably didn’t even hear you. Turning your head back as you left the dance floor, you noticed Ghostface started walking too, keeping his distance, but still observing you as you grabbed your drink. You felt awkward, and almost creeped out. Maybe it was some stupid prank and probably he was doing this with other people as well.

Except he wasn’t.

Thirty minutes had passed and the man with the ghostface mask had been observing you the whole time. There behind the crowd, tall dark figure standing out easily from everyone who was dancing. It made you frustrated, so you decided to run towards his direction. Walking through the crowd was difficult, but as you reached your destination you noticed he had vanished. You eyed the whole area, but you couldn’t find him anymore, it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

“Weirdo” you scoffed, relieved that he had gone away. Being watched like that made it awkward for you to enjoy the party.

Just like in the movies, Toga’s words echoed in your mind. Yeah, and Ghostface apparently had picked you as a first victim. The thought was ridiculous, but it still sent a shiver down your spine.

After a while you had the need to use the restroom so badly. Getting out of the party arena, you walked through the empty hallways to find the restrooms. At some point you regretted not bringing Toga with you, the silence and darkness were creeping you out. Quickly you ran for the restroom and finished your business, before looking at yourself in the mirror once more and fixing your makeup.

A sudden noise had your soul jumping out of your body. Slow, heavy footsteps were approaching, tap, tap, tap, as they got closer, louder.

“..hello?” you called out, but no answer. The footsteps had stopped, nobody entered the restroom. You gulped, fear rising in your heart as you slowly got out, eyes searching for anybody nearby. The place was empty.

But there was someone walking outside!

“Hellooo? Is someone here?” you called again, feeling anxiety tighten your chest. Re-Destro’s mansion was kind of creepy on its own, huge building filled with endless dark corridors that led you to god knows where. You still had yet to learn your way around this place.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The footsteps again. You turned around, now sweating in fear.

“Wh-Who is there?! Hey, this isn’t funny!” you backed away, looking at some dark corner. From the shadows you saw a pair of boots appearing, slowly revealing someone.

Ghostface. The same one who was observing you earlier. He was now in front of you, towering over you as approached slowly.

“Huh? What do you think you’re doing you creep?! Cut this shit off, it’s not funny!” you shouted, but there was no answer on his side. Instead, he raised his hand slowly, revealing a sharp knife that he’d been holding this entire time.

“Oooh yeah wow, very creepy.” you snorted, but the more you looked at it, you realised that the knife was real. Dread settled deep in your gut as you looked at Ghostface gripping the handle of the knife tightly and walking towards you.

Finally, your legs gave in from being frozen in fear, and started to run. You let out a scream the moment he started running after you too, chasing you down the dark corridors. Panic had you hyperventilating, your high heels were making it difficult to outrun him. Loud heavy footsteps were sprinting towards you, the darkness of the hallways making it impossible to see the killer clearly, you could only hear him.

As stupid as it was, your legs sent you to a storage room, panic preventing you from thinking straight and find your way back to the party. You closed the door, quickly hiding behind some containers and sitting there in fear, shutting your mouth to not let out any noise. You had forgotten your phone in the restroom too. For a long time you’d find the protagonists in horror movies stupid and pathetic for not being able to think clearly on how to escape from the killer and get help, but now look at you. Even more stupid and pathetic than them, the thought would make you laugh if it wasn’t for the terrifying situation you were in.

Your hand reached to grab a hammer nearby, ready to attack in case he entered the storage room. Your quirk wasn’t fit to fight, and you cussed yourself for it.

Fuck, if only Dabi was here, he’d incinerate this fucker to ashes in seconds for pulling such insane prank on you.

The heavy footsteps from outside snapped you back to reality. Your heart was beating out of your chest, praying that this was just a prank and he’d only take it this far, that he’d leave you alone and go bother someone else. Your eyes widened as you heard him right outside the door, trying your best to swallow down the whimpers threatening to come out. It was a heavy silence that was suffocating you, for a moment you weren’t really breathing.

Not until the man outside kicked the door open with his boot, entering inside with ease. Your grip on the hammer tightened, and as soon as he approached your hiding place, you came out of it swaying the hammer to his direction, backing him away.

“Don’t you dare come closer!” your voice trembled as you tried to threaten him. You heard a faint chuckle under his mask, before he reached for you again, blocking your attack as his hands gripped on your arm, making you unable to hit him with the hammer. His strength was insane, twisting your arms in ways that had you dropping the hammer on the ground.

“Get away from me!!” you screamed loudly as strong gloved hands pulled you back by your angel wings, pushing you to the ground with ease.

“Stop it!! Let go!! Somebody help- mmmmphf!”

His hand was placed on your mouth, shutting you up and preventing you from screaming further. Finally tears started rolling down your cheeks, you had no idea who this creep was, and now the knife was brought closer to your face, the sharp tip tracing your tears slowly, as if wiping them. You laid there on your belly and him behind you, a trapped angel, unable to move or escape, what you thought was some stupid prank turned out to be worse. You had squeezed your eyes shut, breathing erratically, until you heard the same faint chuckle coming from the man on top of you. For a second you stopped breathing, slowly opening your eyes and turning your head towards the man behind you. Glossy eyes were met with the terrifying ghostface mask that observed you.

That laugh, the familiar scent that you finally managed to recognise.

No way?!

Gloved hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips, as he got closer to your face, taking in your scent of fear. Then he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“You look absolutely divine tonight…”

The familiar voice made your eyes wide.

“D-Dabi?!” you stuttered pathetically as he laughed, removing his mask. Relief washed over you, but at the same time anger quickly bubbled up.

“You fucking idiot!! This wasn’t funny, I-I thought I was going to die!” you whined, more tears rolled down your cheeks as he hushed you, wiping them clean. “I was about to hit you with a hammer too! You’re fucked in the head!”

“Aw my sweet angel, did I really scare you that bad huh?” he hummed, but he didn’t sound sorry at all. The fucker was enjoying it all. And he’d do it again if given the chance.

You tried to push him away, too angry at his stupid prank, but he managed to roll your body and lay you down on your back, keeping both your wrists locked with one hand, preventing you from moving.

“Couldn’t miss this night without looking at my girl..” he whispered, leaning closer to breathe down your neck and leave soft kisses “… and get a taste as well.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” you scoffed, still not over the death scare he had pulled on you.

“But it’s Halloween baby,” Dabi said, kissing your jaw and then going for your pouty lips, giving them a teasing bite. “Don’t you want to recreate our own scary movie~?”

You rolled your eyes at his words. Though, his low husky voice followed with kisses and bites all over your neck and collarbone had you already hot and bothered, you couldn’t even stay angry at him for one second.

“Gotta admit.. you make a pretty good Ghostface” you said, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Yeah? And you’re such a sweet little victim too” he licked his lips, his hand sliding under your dress. “So beautiful f’me, how could I miss this?”

With a quick movement, he put the mask back on, grabbing the knife and putting it on your throat. Your breathing hitched, now frozen as his other hand found the hem of your panties.

“Dabi??”

“Shhh now, just stay still. Be a good girl and you won’t get cut, would be a real shame if something like that happened..”

Oh, so this is how it is. Having a knife pointed at you was by all means terrifying, but knowing it was Dabi, you knew he would never hurt you. The tables turned, and now what you found terrifying, had your panties dampening. He had already removed his gloves, and you could tell it was him by looking at the scars, though the mask stayed on.

Slender fingers skilfully managed to find their way to your weak intimate spot, slowly and teasingly dragging along your wet folds.

“You sure you were scared babe? I mean look at you..” his laugh came muffed under the mask. “Just admit you liked it, being chased like the pathetic pretty victim you are, ready for me to kill and devour~”

His fingers rubbed your clit as his nasty words went on, making your hips buck up and your breath hitch.

“Wanna see all kinds of pretty noises you let out for me tonight” Dabi whispered, plunging two fingers inside of you that made your body jolt. “Your cries, whimpers, moans, screams, give it all to me, don’t you dare hold back-”

The knife in your throat pressed further against your skin, the fear of him accidentally cutting your throat mixed with the pool of pleasure between your thighs. It was crazy, but your body responded in ways you didn’t even know it could.

“P-Please… don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” you said breathlessly, a giggle managed to escape your mouth. You were high on adrenaline, far too gone, and even if Dabi stabbed you in that moment you felt like you’d enjoy that too in some sick twisted way. He got closer, the ghostface mask right above your face as you pulled him in, spreading your legs further for the killer.

“I’d have killed you by now if you weren’t so fun to play with” he cooed in your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, the wet squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt had your face heated up in embarrassment. “Needy sluts like you need their brains fucked out, not bashed in”

The more he dragged his words, the closer you reached to your climax. His movements got rougher, fingers slamming into you faster.

“F-fuck..m’gonna cum.. f-feels so good.. Dabi!!” your moans got more high pitched as you reached your high. Almost forgetting the knife pressed tightly on your throat you squirmed beneath him, your eyes blurry, unable to focus on his mask as they rolled at the back of your skull.

“Atta girl, cum for me… need ya all nice n’ ready” he grunted, knuckles deep inside of you as orgasm washed all over you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, head falling back as your body trembled.

“How weak, ‘s that all it took to break ya?” Dabi laughed and you tried kicking him with your fists.

“S-Shut up…” you breathed out.

“Too bad, I’m not even done with you”

Without a warning he flipped your body around so you were laying on your belly again, pushing your head on the ground.

“Ass up” he said, pressing the cold knife on your asscheek as a warning. You obeyed his command, arching your back nicely to give him a good view, until his hand pulled your hair from behind, making you yelp in return.

“Y’know doll, I could say I’m still mad from earlier” Dabi said threateningly, his voice going an octave lower sending shivers down your spine.

“Mad? W-why?” you whispered, wondering what might’ve angered him. But then it clicked; the whole time you were dancing on the dance floor, not even noticing the eyes of many other villains nearby looking at you full of lust, at your swaying hips and flashy angel wings fluttering, easily grabbing the attention of everyone.

A playful grin spread across your face, you loved when he got jealous.

“Maybe instead of declining the offer to come to the party, you could’ve danced with me the whole time. But oh well.. other people got to enjoy me tonight so-”

“Ain’t you a little attention whore?” Dabi said through gritted teeth, his hand coming down to smack your ass so hard the loud sound echoed through the room. You hissed in pain, unable to move as you felt your asscheek go numb already.

“I had a change of heart at the last minute” he continued. “Grabbed a shitty costume nearby and decided to join the party. But to my surprise, I see your pretty ass dancing around mindlessly, sooo lost in the music you couldn’t even see those fuckers approaching to dance with you. And you just let them.”

You raised an eyebrow, wanting to test his jealousy even further. Playing with fire might get you burned, but that’s what you wanted. “How is that so wrong? You allergic to fun perhaps? I dance with who I want.”

Dabi positioned the sharp knife on your asscheek, the tip threatening to plunge itself on your skin. “Yeah? Maybe I haven’t made it clear enough then…”

What?

The knife slowly digged on your flesh, your eyes widened at the pain that had you screaming.

“D-Dabi what are you-fuck!! It hurtssss!!”

“You forget who you belong to, sweetheart” he said, continuing to carve into your asscheek what seemed to be his initial. Warm blood slowly rolled down your legs and so did your tears down your cheeks.

“My name carved on you will be a constant reminder of that” Dabi grinned, looking at the bloody mess. “No other man gets to even look at you, let alone touch you, got it?”

You whimpered a weak “yes”, trying to catch your breath. Suddenly the flat of the knife was pressed right against your bare pussy, the cold metal had you moaning in surprise.

“Look at you, you like it when I cut you up huh?” he bit his lip, watching you slowly grind your pussy on the knife. “Careful there baby, I need this cunt functional…”

“S-Stop teasing me!” you said, panting hard as Dabi pressed the knife further against you.

“Me? It’s all you, grinding on this knife like a pathetic bitch in heat.” he laughed crudely, before looking down at the bulge tightening his pants. After teasing you long enough, he unbuckled his belt, pulling out his hardened cock, piercings decorating his veiny shaft, tip red and leaking with pearly precum, bulging with anticipation to plunge into your needy hole as soon as possible. Leaning down beside you, he took out his phone, pulling you by your hair and making you face the camera in front of you. The flashlight of the camera brightened your teary face stained with the ruined makeup and messy hair, capturing the moment as the killer with the ghostface mask stood behind, as if mocking you before breaking you.

“Gorgeous..” Dabi grinned, looking at the picture, before his tip teases your glistening folds, sliding it inside of you with ease. A soft moan escaped your mouth as he stretched you out completely. Throwing the knife on the ground, his hands roughly grabbed your body, sliding underneath your clothes to grope your tits whilst the pace got faster. You couldn’t hold back the loud moans, arching your back more for him and spreading your legs fruther as he fucked you from behind.

“Fuck look at that-” he grunted, gripping the plump flesh of your ass while looking at the way his cock disappeared inside your greedy cunt. Blood had already coated your skin and lower back, making the view unable to resist for him.

“Mmhmm f-feels.. so goood.. more…” you whimpered mindlessly, drunk on his cock, the pain of his carved name on your skin already forgotten.

“More, huh?” Dabi said, stopping his movements. “Y’know what, angel slut? Show me how much you want it”

“H-Huh?”

“Fuck yourself on my cock”

Heat creeped up on your cheeks as he stood there motionless, his cock still hard inside you waiting for you to move. The mask was still on, his pants lowered and his shirt halfway up, showing his scarred abs and lower abdomen, glistening with sweat. Even fully dressed as a serial killer, this man looked hot. You kept your eyes on the man behind you as you began moving, going back and forth and fucking yourself on his cock just as he ordered. You felt every inch grinding against your gummy walls, making your head spin.

“Good girl…nghh fuck- that’s it” he moaned, placing his hands on your ass again to guide your movements. You felt so full, and yet wanted him deeper, to completely invade you.

“Dabi…wanna cum…” you said breathlessly, speeding up your movements but tiring yourself out in the process.

“Tch. C’mere…”

Pulling himself out, he flipped you over and laid you on your back, putting your legs on his shoulders and sliding it in again without a warning. The new position got you screaming, if you thought he was deep before, you were wrong. It’s like he could reach depths you never even knew you had, tearing you apart.

“F-fuck Dabi!!” you cussed out as he leaned in closer, your thighs now pressed against your tits as his hand wrapped around your throat. You looked at the ghostface mask as he fucked your brains out, desperation painting your face.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl~” he said, not slowing the pace.

“W-wanna cum.. n’ want you to kiss me!” you pleaded, grabbing at his mask. He let you remove it, before crashing his lips against yours in a needy, hungry kiss. Moaning against his mouth, you felt the knot forming in your stomach explode as he kept hitting that certain spot over and over.

“That’s it princess…fuck you’re creaming all over this cock” Dabi said, looking at the mess where you two connected, the squelching noises and smell of sex had filled the room. He kept fucking in your trembling body as you saw stars, barely catching your breath as he reached for his own high. With a loud groan he shot loads inside of you, painting your insides white, some of it even leaking outside. It made you feel warm, full, so full of him.

Slowly he removed your legs from his shoulders, reaching in for another kiss, not pulling out of you just yet.

“Baby..” he whispered through the kisses, chuckling as he saw you barely responding. “Did my little victim already pass away?”

“Mmhmm… mr. Ghostface certainly knows how to make his victims scream” you teased, biting his lip.

Dabi grinned, gripping your hips. “Looks like I haven’t made you scream enough since you still got a voice in that throat of yours”

Your blush deepened, eyes widening at his words.

“That sounds like a threat”

“And a promise, sweetheart. Cause I’m not anywhere near done with you yet”

Nobody minded the screams and cries echoing from Dabi’s room through the hallways for the rest of that night. After all, it’s Halloween. Kill or get killed.

that pussy got MURDERED.

🏷️ tags: @hunajan @suksatoru @sukunaes @angelblueflame @trickster-kat @luvsymai @syrenkitsune @melodyglow-blog @baby-tini @ameliaenya404 @zukowantshishonourback @sukunas-bitxh @cyberdazetragedy @shortstuffiequeen24 @isabeauwolf @gabz38

Y.D.L.R | MILES MORALES

♡ pairings & aus: earth 42!miles morales x barista!black!fem!reader (they are 19 in this for the plot's sake), exes 2 lovers au. ♡ summary: it's been three months since you broke up with miles. it took you those three months to get over him-- and now you finally have, until he unexpectedly ‘bumps’ into you as you wait for your new man at a restaurant. and boy, does he have so much to tell you. ♡ warnings: cursing, arguing, mentions of sex i think? ♡ a/n: whew chile...my first e42 actual FIC FIC im screaming!! this lovely fic was inspired by my bae bae @luvjunie and her WONDERFUL PLAYLIST XOXO!! i love u endlessly <3 ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡ ♪ - Y.D.L.R by Tory Lanez

There's something enigmatic about going on a date after a break-up.

Maybe it's the way your stomach flutters when plans are set in stone, or the way your lips inevitably curl upwards when you swipe your makeup onto your face to the beat of your getting-ready tunes.

Or maybe, it's just because it's not with Miles.

Your heart twists within itself at the very mention of his name, or at the mere thought of it— that's for sure. Anything that had to do with him in the slightest had your stomachs in knots, the bitter taste of acid playing on your tongue when you dwelled on the past of your former relationship.

It was his fault, that’s what you had settled on. Mostly to deny the fact that your chest locked whenever you saw him in public, or whenever he would come into your job during the morning time, ordering the same chocolate muffin and coffee that he always bought.

And you had to act like it didn’t bother you, although it did, for a while. You always called him “Mr.” when you saw him in person because the hurt restricted your mouth to even fix itself to say his name.

But months passed, and you were sick of coming home from work and falling asleep to the sound of your own tears hitting the pillow, accompanied by constant rewatching of old videos and pictures that you and Miles had accumulated over the past two years.

As long as your relationship was, you knew that it would be hard to get over him if you just sat around and sulked all day for the rest of your life. You caught yourself opening up the App Store and downloading multitudes of dating apps, at first— just for fun and games, until one guy that you matched with came into your work.

Sebastian was extremely different in relation to Miles. He was taller, buffer, and owned the deepest of emerald eyes, which seemed to always sparkle when he was under the opiate of light. He was kind-hearted and tender and often told you how beautiful you were when he had the chance.

He had the thickest of caramel curls and was two years older, as well, which definitely appealed to you because you assumed he would be more mature then your former lover. He introduced himself one day when you were working, sliding a twenty across the old oak counters as a “tip for your excellent service.”

Ever since he had became a regular at the shop, you would often go out with him after your shifts would end, which halted the amount of times you would see Miles at work, which you used to your advantage.

As completely horrible as it sounds, you didn’t really have a strong intention to fall for Sebastian. He was cute and you were pretty and he liked taking you out, especially to lunch, which you viewed as free meals with a close friend. Until he started to hug you and place his hands on the curve of your waist when you walked down the street, thick and veiny hands kneading at the doughy flesh of your sides from time to time.

You didn’t intend to fall for him until he kissed you on the cheek that night that he took you on a picnic and asked you to be his girlfriend. And when he looked at you with his deep, viridescent eyes, you couldn’t say no. You had fell for him, so you nodded your head and whispered a ‘Yes’ as he pressed his lips onto yours softly, so gentle and tender, like he was afraid to hurt you.

Eventually, time stretched to today, where you were celebrating your one-month with Sebastian. You were surprised you held out this long, but day by day, the mere memories of Miles had faded from your knowledge and you liked to keep it that way.

In current time, you tapped your phone with a freshly manicured acrylic, your other hand occupied with brushing away your setting powder that brightened up your under eyes. It was nearly six-thirty, and your date was at seven ‘o clock.

Sebastian claimed that he couldn’t pick you up because it would ruin an alleged surprise, but you just shrugged it off as you finished off your look with a pair of lashes and red lipstick.

You carefully smacked your lips and smiled in the mirror as you grabbed your purse and phone, swiping it open and texting Sebastian that you were on your way.

As you walked out of your house and got into your car, some unknown emotion was crawling through your veins that made you anxious. Something was going to happen— you were sure of it, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. So you just set the feeling aside and sped over to the steakhouse that your date was being held at, paying for a valet parking spot and taking a seat at your table.

And that’s when you got the text.

[from] seb <3: Hey sweetheart. I’m running a little late, is that okay with you?

You felt a sigh tumble past your lips. There wasn’t really much you could do other than just deal with it, so you informed him that it was all alright and that you would just order an appetizer to hold you over.

You were doing fine until you saw a figure outside the large glass windows that faced the front of the restaurant. It was someone in an all black suit, with two braids running down their back. And you would’ve suspected it was someone else until you look at the shoes that they were wearing— that being a pair of limited edition Jordan’s.

It was Miles.

Chambering up from your slumped position in your chair, y you watched as he spoke to some waitress about something, expressing his feelings through his hands. You felt a scoff hitch in your throat— he’s never that expressive, so clearly something was up.

Wait.

Why should you care?

You have a boyfriend.

But something was still wrong, you could feel it.

Your eyes fixated on him as he walked towards your table, and your blood immediately ran cold when you saw him smirk at you, pulling out the reserved chair in front of yours, taking a seat on it. He folded his hands on top of the table, cocking his head to the side, “Nice to see you again, mi vida.”

“Don’t.” You warned shakily, shifting in your seat in full discomfort, “Leave. I won’t ask you again.”

“This chair was a lil’ empty before I got here, don’t you think, ma?” He questioned you, picking up a menu as his eye scanned the contents of it. “What you gon’ order? I’ll have whatever you have.”

“Morales.” You spat, venom laced within the mention of his name as your bracelet-clad wrist slammed against the table. It doesn’t phase Miles, though— his stoic expression still remaining, playing on his strong facial features.

Miles scoffs, a sarcastic and playful grin residing on his lips, “¿Que pasa, mami? You ain’ miss me?”

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, but your inquiry is provided with no answer. Instead, Miles sets the menu down and looks at you with intense eyes, fire reigning in their irises as he speaks.

“I’m not gon’ sit here and front, Y/N, but that new, shitty excuse for a man you call yo’ boyfriend?” He tuts, “He not the one for you.”

You give him a disgusted look, “I can’t believe you would say that.”

“It’s just the truth. I’ve seen all the pictures on Instagram and whatnot, and sure, y’all cute. I’m not even tight about it- but y’all just don’t look right together. And he prolly not who you think he is-“

You immediately stand to your feet, hands grasping either sides of the table as you lean in close to the man in front of you— so close that your noses are practically touching. “You shut the hell up.” You hiss, “You have no right to come here and give me a piece of your mind on somethin’ that don’t even effect you. So you get up, and go home, or I’ll make it happen my own damn self.”

There’s a pause of silence for a moment before Miles chuckles at you, leaning back in your seat. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip so hard that it ought to draw blood, but you’re doing it to prevent the provoking of you screaming across the restaurant at him. He looks up at you with hard eyes, licking his lips, “Aight. I’mma let that slide, because you prolly hurt, and I understand. But I’m tellin’ you that he ain’t no good. I’ve seen it. I know. I ain’t come here to win you back or nun- I came here because I actually care, but you can’t seem to get that through your thick skull.”

Something about the way that his sentences roll of his tongue push you to believe that he isn’t lying. You back off, crossing your arms, “If you claim to know all this, then what is he hiding?”

“Come outside with me.” He says, standing up and heading for the door, just like that. And you follow him, because you know that his statement was much more of an order then a question.

It’s late now, the moon shining over the sidewalk that you and Miles both walk on. He grabs your shoulders and moves you to the inside, switching so that he’s now walking closest to the cars. Your heart pumps with anxiety and your mind is swirling with questions that your mouth can’t seem to form. All you can muster up is, “Why are you here?”

“I’m not tryna hurt you, hermosa,” he starts, exhaling before he continues on, “But I just can’t see you with him. I knew I made you upset and shit and that’s on me, I know, but after you left, everything you do seems to make me so sad. And I can promise you that that lil’ Sebastian dude is not gon’ treat you right.”

“You don’t know that.” You speak, continuing to walk until you realize that Miles has stopped. He’s standing in front of a window to another restaurant, and when you peek inside, your heart shatters at the view that awaits you.

It’s Sebastian, sitting with another woman who looks quite older than you are. There’s some sort of ring on the table and you assume it’s a promise ring, because it’s just in a simple box that’s from Pandora. You immediately tear up, and Miles opens his arms and engulfs you in his embrace, although it’s unwanted from you at first, he still does it anyway. You’re crying in his coat as he soothingly rubs circles on your exposed back, “I told you. I wanted to beat his ass but I knew if I did it without seeing you, you would be pissed off.” He then tucks his index finger underneath your chin, “I’m sorry, mami.”

You know he means it because it’s something that he rarely says. It’s always ‘his bad’ and ‘his fault’, but when he tells you that he’s sorry, there’s not a hint of untruthfulness in his statement.

“Why do you do this to me?” You sniffled, looking up at Miles with soft, reddened eyes, “Why are you the only one that seems to treat me right? I can’t get away from you no matter how hard I try.”

Miles’ hand trails up from your waist to your cheek, where he leans in closer to you, “Because you’re mine forever. Do you not realize that? Do you not realize that I would kill for you? I would burn down this entire planet if it meant that no one else could touch you. But you’re so hellbent on thinking that your somebody is some random on the Internet. And it’s not. It’s me, Y/N. I’m here.” His voice gets quieter as his eyes soften, “Don’t go. Please.”

“Fuck,” you cursed, sniffling with a small chuckle as you looked at him, “I left because you never told me the truth. You were always sneaking around and I thought you were with some other girl.”

“I wasn’t, mi princesa, I promise that to you.” He starts, “We’ll talk about it later, but I was only looking out for you. Drop this piece of shit and come back to me, mama? Please?”

You’re shocked at Miles’ demeanor. Usually he’s so nonchalant and laidback, but now here he is, begging for you to take him back in the middle of the moonlight. There’s not a bone in your body that even pondered about saying no, though, and the smooth kiss that follows his statement is more than enough confirmation that you belong to him, that you were his.

And if you were speaking truthfully, you always were.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae

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