SCHOOL FESTIVALS

"mutiny" of the Straw Hats aka me obsessing over their casual violence on Luffy 🥹 the baby 🥹 the menace 🥹 ft. OPLA cast

INDEBTED — kinich x gn!reader

content: 11.6k words, cw: mentions of abuse and alcoholism, kinich backstory spoilers + natlan 5.0 archon quest spoilers, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, everyone is bad with emotions, death, near-death experiences

summary: kinich has never been one to trust easily, but fate has other plans. throughout the years, he slowly comes to terms with his love for you.

a/n: i'm so normal... so normal... SO NORMAL. this was an attempt at gaining an understanding of kinich's character, so it might not be perfect, but i tried my very best to ensure the characterization wasn't too questionable. i love him dearly.

ACT I.

As someone raised by the lonesome mountains of Natlan, you have long grown used to an atmosphere of tranquil quietude, a serene symphony composed purely of nature’s music. The gentle flow of zephyrs running through seas of viridescent grass coupled with the occasional sounds of birdcall have become the soundtrack of your life. For you, an ever-enduring hush has always been synonymous with normalcy, but you are perfectly content with the status quo.

So when the sound of a choked scream shatters the flawlessly-crystalline silence of a hazy morning into a thousand shards of dissonance, you feel yourself tense. In all your six years of life, you have never had the displeasure of hearing anything so horrific.

It’s funny. The noise is fleeting, ephemeral, but it holds infinitely more weight than anything else you’ve witnessed during your short time in this world. You’re sure that it will be a long time before anything else disturbs the peace in such a profound manner, and it is for that exact reason that you resolve to investigate.

Deep down, you know it’s a stupid idea. You’re only a kid, and if it turns out there’s some grave danger, it’s more or less over for you. Curiosity alone isn’t reason enough to risk your own safety but the thought of another person facing peril is.

With hurried steps, you rush through your house, lightly scurrying through the corridors to see if anyone else is awake yet. When you’re sure that everyone is still and not a creature stirs, you grab the simple pouch of medical supplies your family always insists you take with you and exit the house in a rush.

The moment you step outside, blinding threads of aureate light twist in elaborate patterns, weaving themselves across a divine tapestry dyed cornflower and tinged marigold.

It’s way too bright, and even more concerningly, it’s way too quiet.

You feel your shoulders tense, and a shiver runs down your spine. The rapid coalescence of chaos and pandemonium is unnerving, and the ambiance makes you uneasy. However, you know you have to press on.

With as much fervor as you can muster, you run around the perimeter of your house, scouring every nook and cranny for signs of life. It’s not a large place, yet you can’t seem to find anything. Whatever it was that made that noise seems to have vanished without a trace.

Just as you’re about to give up, something on the ground catches your attention. A footprint. It’s a light imprint, barely visible, etched with the utmost precision into the dusty earth below. The size of the footprint is unfamiliar, and based on the weight distribution, it seems that the person it belongs to tried to tread lightly.

But not lightly enough.

It’s clear that the track points directly towards the stack of crates and barrels sitting behind your home, so with caution in your step, you gradually inch towards the area. As you do, the sound of shuffling permeates your ears, confirming that there is indeed something lurking behind the stacked wooden storage units. You take a deep breath before daring to peek.

The sight you’re met with shocks you to your core.

A young boy around your age is huddled between the boxes, nestled securely within a small gap. His knees are tucked all the way up to his chest, his short arms wrapped around them. The boy doesn’t dare move an inch. He simply looks up at you with eyes of molten amber, their depths bedazzled with emerald starglitter. As he moves, strands of hair spun of midnight essence shift to frame his face.

A part of your young mind thinks that he looks unreal — ethereal, but your train of thought is quickly disrupted when you notice his scraped knees.

“Are you okay?” you ask, extending a hand towards the boy. Despite your attempt at being gentle, the boy flinches, flecks of opulent gold swirling within his irises, mistrust dispersing in their wake. “I won’t hurt you.”

Your gazes lock, and you hope he can sense the sincerity in your actions. Hesitantly, the boy takes your hand, his knees wobbling slightly as he stands. He’s unsteady, but you make sure he doesn’t fall. Carefully, you lead him over to the front porch of your house, slowly sitting him down on the wooden planks. Once you’re sure he’s fine, you let go of his hand and begin taking bandages and cleaning supplies out of your medicinal pouch.

As you turn towards him, preparing to patch him up, you see him tense slightly.

He’s still scared.

“It might sting a little.”

Your comment doesn’t alleviate his face of its downcast expression — in fact, it just makes things worse.

“But it won’t last for long,” you insist. “Plus, all the adults always tell me it’s for the best.”

The boy is still deeply suspicious of you. It’s strange. You’ve never met someone so on edge.

“Would it make you feel better if I let you do it yourself?” You offer the supplies to the boy, and he curtly nods, snatching the bandages and swabs before you have a chance to process what’s going on. 

He examines them closely, sunbeam-speckled eyes roaming every inch of the objects, as if shedding monochromatic tones of dandelion across their surfaces to detect any obscure dangers. After what feels like an eternity, he finally starts cleaning his wounds, barely even wincing as he brushes over them. As he moves on to bandaging his knees, you watch intently. He does everything with such ease and efficiency that you wonder if he’s used to it all.

Yet the longer he continues to work on treating himself, the more you realize that the awkward angle is causing him to wince slightly. Perhaps his wounds run deeper than you think. Slowly, you draw your hand closer to his, tapping him with a finger to catch his attention.

“Can I do the rest of the bandages?” you inquire. It seems he feels more at ease now, and you want to take this opportunity to further gain his trust. Besides, the last thing you want is for him to make his injuries worse.

The boy pauses for a few seconds, tilting his head as he regards you with apprehension. Locks of navy and seafoam mingle in the caress of the breeze, transitory weightlessness engulfing the atmosphere for only a single moment. Stillness becomes nearly tangible as equanimity envelops you. The tension only builds up once more as the boy dips his head in a gentle nod, loosening his fingers around the gauze to allow you to take it instead.

Meticulously, you continue wrapping the boy’s knees in fibres of pristine white, concealing the nasty wounds marring his skin. Despite not trusting you earlier, he’s very compliant, and he remains both calm and unmoving as you aid him.

And when you finally finish, you hear him speak for the first time.

“Thank you,” he whispers quietly, traces of hoarseness lacing his voice. It doesn’t sound like he speaks often. “You’re very kind.”

Before you can respond, the boy gets up, trying his best to hobble a few steps before staggering again. He manages to catch himself on a tree, and as he does, you race over to him. Obviously he’s not in any condition to be walking around.

“Be careful,” you reprimand him. “You can’t leave just yet.”

The boy shakes his head frantically.

“I’m supposed to be home right now,” he states gently. Although he tries his best to keep his tone flat and neutral, you notice the way his gaze becomes downcast, sullen with ashen rain clouds that dull anything and everything luminous.

“Just stay for a few more minutes?”

Perhaps it’s the concern entangled in your tone or your wide-eyed look of pure desperation that convinces the boy to give in. With a cautious sort of reluctance, he allows you to drag him back over to your old spot.

“So how did you end up here, and more importantly, how did you end up so hurt?”

It’s already very apparent that the boy isn’t big on words, yet the fleeting silence that floods your surroundings in waves of unspoken wariness unsettles you.

“I ran too fast and fell down here,” the boy states simply.

No normal person would run so fast that they dive headfirst off a small ledge without noticing, and what kind of kid goes outside without someone else along to supervise them if they get hurt?

His answer doesn’t seem insincere, yet something feels off. Doubt begins to blossom in your conscience, taking root in the form of fragmented bits of reason. Thus, you decide to try your luck and press just a little further.

“Why were you running,” you question. “Were you chased by a monster?”

“I guess you could say so…”

For a while, you continue to try to interrogate him, but you’re unable to get much more information out of him. The strange boy keeps all his secrets under lock and key, all his truths hidden within labyrinths of perplexing misdirection and nonchalant responses. Despite the frustration you feel when he refuses to comply, you understand. You’ve already pushed him far enough, but when it comes time for him to go, you try to get one last piece of information out of him.

“I never quite caught your name,” you remark as the boy steadies himself. He’s still a little wobbly but far better than before.

“Kinich,” he replies. “What about you?”

“[Name],” you say as you hand him your remaining medical supplies for later use.

Gratefully, Kinich takes the pouch, a ghost of a smile gracing his face.

“[Name], huh?” he whispers. “I’ll remember it.”

ACT II.

Nothing in the world is free. Every cost must be carefully weighed and then remunerated sufficiently.

This has been Kinich’s philosophy for as long as he can remember. No matter how desperately the sands of time and winds of fate try to erode his beliefs, they’re never successful, for his ideals have been ingrained in him since the moment he could make sense of natural order.

Ever since that fateful day where the ever-fragile threads of destiny pulled the two of you together, Kinich has been trying to think of a way to repay you, but with all the responsibilities and burdens weighing on his young shoulders, he finds it nearly impossible. When he’s not preoccupied with tending to the crops, he’s out and about in areas where only the wilderness reigns, carefully setting lethal traps to ensnare his next meal. Survival is tough, and with the ever-present threat of starvation looming over him, waiting for any opportune moment to snatch him from the gentle embrace of life, he allocates a large majority of his energy to feeding his father and himself.

It’s not like his father is much help anyway. These days, he seems to be drinking away his sorrow more than ever, losing himself as tides of despair ebb and flow, pulling him away from lucidity and into the frozen grips of oceanic melancholia. He’s been worse than ever since the disappearance of Kinich’s mother, and the one who feels the effects most potently is Kinich himself.

But everything changes on Kinich’s seventh birthday.

It’s his special day, and for once, he hopes that his father will allow him some clemency. For the first time in a long time, Kinich gathers up the courage to ask his father a question.

He asks if there has been any news of his mother.

At first, his father remains eerily silent. An ominous sense of uncertainty settles in the surrounding air, evoking Kinich to shudder as frostbite gnaws at him in a thousandfold. Bloodshot eyes pierce through Kinich’s defences, exposing him for the person he truly is beneath it all: a scared child, anxiously awaiting an answer from a man he no longer trusts.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until his father rushes forwards in a sudden juxtaposition of mood. The apathy that masked his inner turmoil just seconds before is now gone, replaced by a look of pure rage. That’s Kinich’s cue to run. He’s done this enough times to know.

So he takes off. His legs, although far shorter than his father’s, carry him far more swiftly. Reflexes and strength built up through countless similar instances take over, and everything becomes muscle memory for Kinich. On the other hand, his father does not fare quite as well. He stumbles, and at times, he even trips over the creeping roots of archaic trees. It’s as if the alcohol is weighing him down, but despite it all, he never loses sight of his son.

Kinich is an elusive breeze, weightless and elegant, never once losing his foothold as he springs from one place to another. His father is more akin to the ancient petra underfoot — uncouth, clumsy, yet destructive and powerful. Even as he staggers, his resolve remains steadfast and resolute. He will stop at nothing until he’s able to give his young son a piece of his mind.

And yet fate has a strange way of intervening at the least convenient moments, ensuring its heavenly ordainment is heeded. In the eyes of the universe, Kinich’s story is not ready to end — but his father’s is.

As Kinich rushes by the side of a cliff, this becomes apparent. The sound of heavy footfalls behind him disappears before he hears a thud. Gathering his courage, Kinich gazes behind him, only to be met with the sight of emptiness where his father should have been.

Then, he makes the fateful decision to peer below.

There, lying between thickets of dense foliage lies the body of the man he once lived with — a man full of life mere seconds ago, now motionless and despondent. It feels unreal. A shiver runs down Kinich’s spine as a creeping sense of despair begins to stab at his heart. He blinks rapidly, taking deep breaths in order to calm himself, before making his way down the cliff.

Emotions are strange, and Kinich has never been good with them. He had always believed that everything would begin to look up once his father was out of the picture, but now that his father is gone for good, Kinich can’t help but grieve. No matter how horrible he was, he was still Kinich’s only remaining parent. There were better times too — times where his father would bring home a box of sweets for him and a bouquet of flowers for his mother. It almost felt like they were a real family. In Kinich’s mind, these instances pale in comparison to all the torment his father had put him through, yet he can’t completely erase his pleasant memories either.

So as one last act of respect, Kinich decides to bring his father’s body home with him.

The journey home is long and arduous. As Kinich navigates the surrounding wildlands and his newfound freedom, swinging from treetop to treetop with his father’s grappling hook, he wordlessly says goodbye to the man who had caused him so much pain throughout the former years of his life.

On his seventh birthday, Kinich becomes an orphan. He tucks himself into bed, and while other children would have had their loving mothers to lull them off to sleep in an aria of oneiric delights, he has nothing but the harsh, transient gale that rocks the thin walls of his home.

On his seventh birthday, Kinich ends up completely alone.

ACT III.

Kinich has dealt with nightmares before, but the ones that plague him after the death of his father are particularly horrific. Every night, as watercolour fuchsia and muted lilac begin to bleed into periwinkle skies, Kinich finds himself mentally preparing for the duress that lays ahead — for each time he closes his eyes, he is whisked back to the past, forced to relive events he’d much rather forget.

Sometimes he actively resists sleep, fearing the mirages that may appear in his dreams. It is on one such night that he finally recalls his debt to you. As he lays awake, trying to ward off all-consuming thoughts of eternal solitude and grief, he remembers the one other person he’s interacted with in recent times, and an idea comes to mind. He’s going to start paying his price tonight.

Kinich is usually one to take caution, but right now, he would do anything to keep his mind from lingering on his harsh reality. As such, he climbs out of bed, making his way outside to gather some of the crops he’s grown in a rugged patch of land behind his house.

It feels good to be outside again. The fresh air is a welcome change compared to the stifling atmosphere within a house that holds far too many memories for Kinich’s liking. His recollections range from saccharine-sweet to fear-evoking, yet one thing that remains constant is the fact that Kinich can’t stop recalling a past that seems oh-so-distant.

As Kinich picks up a tool, plowing through the dirt to unearth some of the grainfruit he had planted earlier that year, his thoughts drift back to his mother. She used to wrap her delicate fingers around his when he was younger, carefully guiding him as he learned to cultivate and take care of the crops. Back then, Kinich had felt a special type of fragile warmth, but now, all that remains is the chill of the evening air.

Kinich wonders if he’ll ever feel that warmth again.

He finishes gathering a respectable amount of food in no time, having had years of practice in the past. The young boy tosses the grainfruit into a sack, preparing to set off on a journey with phantasmagoric darkness as his only companion and the luminous constellations overhead as his only guide.

The sights and sounds of an enigmatic midnight distract him from the thoughts that have been running through his head on a daily basis. Kinich is sure to watch his step, although he’s nearly certain he knows the area well enough to walk through it blindfolded by now.

Finally, after around ten minutes of wandering through veils of silken achromatic, he sees the silhouette of a building in the distance, a rough outline against a backdrop of night. To his surprise, he spots a lantern emitting a gilded glow as he approaches, its incandescent light breaking through layers of obsidian obscurity, flooding it with a golden radiance instead. As he draws closer, he begins to make out the faint shape of a figure in the distance.

Strange. What normal person would be out at this hour?

As the features of the mysterious person become more defined, Kinich realizes it’s you again. Subconsciously, a soft smile begins to grace his features at the thought of getting to speak to you once more. It’s the first time he’s been genuinely happy in a while.

When Kinich steps into the dim firelight of the lantern, his features illuminated by the ember-forged halo of light, you eagerly approach him and wave. Something about the fact that you still recognize makes his heart grow just a little softer.

“It’s you,” you remark, your face lighting up excitedly.

Kinich nods, awkwardly shuffling under the weight of your gaze. It’s been a long time since someone was so interested in him. He isn’t quite used to having people regard him with such attentiveness.

“What are you doing out at this time?” Curiosity flares in your eyes, dancing in asterisms of wonder that glimmer with the brilliance of the stars above. Normally Kinich doesn’t like it when others pry into his affairs, but he thinks the look of inquisitiveness is endearing on you.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Kinich bluntly responds, “and I had a debt to repay.” He gestures at the sack of grainfruit beside him, silently weighing out the costs in his mind. It isn’t enough to pay you back for helping a stranger unconditionally, but Kinich thinks it’s a start. At the very least, it’s enough to reimburse the material costs of tending to his wounds, and he’ll deal with reciprocating your actual actions later.

“Debt?” Your face contorts into a puzzled frown. Kinich decides that he appreciates this expression far less when it adorns your visage. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“You treated my injuries the other day,” Kinich begins to explain, but you cut him off.

“And there’s really no need to repay me for that,” you interrupt. “Trust me. I wanted to help you.”

Somewhere in the depths of his heart, Kinich feels a flurry of opalescent butterflies spread their wings and take flight. Iridescent sparks of a newfound fuzzy feeling burst to life within his chest.

It’s… new. Everything is new with you.

“At least take the grainfruit,” he mutters, trying to remain nonchalant. As a young child, he still doesn’t quite understand what he’s feeling, but he’d rather not make his emotions apparent. “It’ll save me the trouble of having to drag it back home.”

You hesitate for a few seconds before agreeing, hauling the large bag inside with great difficulty before rushing back out to Kinich. By the time you return, he recalls that you shouldn’t be up at this hour either.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you awake right now?” Kinich asks you as you close the front door behind you.

Deep down, a part of him wants to know if there’s something troubling you so he can help you. It’s strange. It’s been a while since he last cared for someone this deeply, but he blames it all on his desire to reimburse you for your kindness, nothing more. Conveniently, he ignores the nascent emotions blooming within, repressing flourishes that take shape in frantic flickers of ruby and rose.

“It was a little too cold tonight,” you sigh, staring down at the ground. “I just couldn’t fall asleep comfortably.”

Kinich lets out a small hum of acknowledgement as the gears in his brain begin to turn, rotating in cycles of contemplation. Perhaps he’ll bring you an extra blanket next time he visits.

“Then why don’t we keep each other company for a while?” Kinich suggests. “It definitely beats being alone.” Kinich is not usually one to actively seek the company of other people, but you’re intriguing to him.

You nod, silently offering your hand to Kinich. It feels like the day you first met all over again, except under much better circumstances. This time, he laces your fingers without hesitation, allowing you to guide him through darkness fragmented only by rays of piercing starlight. He’s not quite sure where you’re leading him, but he knows he’s beginning to trust you a little.

Slowly, your destination becomes clear to Kinich. The two of you draw closer and closer to the cliffside — a spot where pure moonbeams grace the earth with their elegant touch. Kinich tenses slightly, haunting memories from a few weeks prior threatening to resurface above the murky waters of a wounded heart. However, he quells every spark of fear threatening to blaze alight.

He’s safe. Things aren’t the same as they were on that day, and the only other person around is you.

To Kinich’s relief, you settle down a safe distance from the cliff’s edge and pat the spot beside yourself, gesturing for Kinich to follow suit. He wordlessly obliges, simply relishing in the serenity that permeates the atmosphere, nearly tangible as he feels lingering traces of your body heat in the night air.

“Look up,” you whisper, laying a gentle hand on Kinich’s shoulder.

He does as he’s told, and the panoramic sight that greets him is enough to take his breath away. The skies above are the same as ever, yet this is the first time he has truly been able to appreciate their beauty. Kinich studies the constellations that burn with unrivalled luminosity, in awe of their brilliance. Diamond lights burn bright against a backdrop of deep sapphire, each shade of an abyssal ocean waltzing in a whimsical show of wonders.

Before today, he’d always been too busy caring for his mother, too preoccupied with his father’s hysteria, or too melancholy within his own solitude to enjoy anything with an unburdened heart. 

But now everything has changed. He’s free, and he has you now. Yet again, he feels an involuntary smile tug at the corners of his lips, and before he has the chance to think about what all of this means, a shout breaks through the silence.

“A shooting star! Make a wish, Kinich!”

Kinich is more than familiar with wishing. He’s wished for plenty of things in his seven years of life. He’s wished for his father to stop gambling, he’s wished for his mother to come back, and he’s wished for his family to be happy together. Permanently. None of his wishes have ever come true.

But as he looks over at you, he notices hope and a childish innocence glittering in your eyes, manifesting in prismatic tones reflected from the skies above. A sense of warmth washes over him. Kinich sees a kind of purity in you that he wishes he could have clung onto for longer, so he makes a wish, if only to protect and humour you.

“I wish to be able to repay your kindness someday, even if it takes me a lifetime.”

ACT IV.

Throughout the years, Kinich’s debt to you only accumulates.

Word spreads like wildfire after the first few members of the tribe find out about Kinich’s living situation, and unsurprisingly, the news reaches your family as well. Strangers begin to graciously offer Kinich help, yet he always holds them at a distance. Nothing in the world is free, and he knows full well that there are people who conceal ulterior motives behind masks of charity.

There is, however, one exception.

You.

Deep down, Kinich knows that if the universe hadn’t entangled him within its delicate web of fate the day you first met, he would have never trusted you. It was only when he was left with no other options that he allowed you to aid him. He felt your sincerity that day, and although he’s still hesitant at the prospect of placing his wholehearted faith in anyone just yet, he lets you help him with his daily tasks. Kinich enjoys being around you, and a small part of him knows that he wants to be able to believe in you unconditionally.

You always show up early in the mornings, returning time and time again as the first traces of golden brilliance begin to graze the horizon. Kinich begins to find himself looking forward to the sunrise for the first time in his life.

In the past, Kinich would watch the last embers of twilight die out each day, violet enigma enveloped by vivid strokes of peach. He would always dread the day to come. Back then, nearly every waking hour of his life had been tedious and stressful, and thus he could only find respite in the land of the oneiric where dreams and absurdism erased the sorrow of real life.

But nowadays, each new dawn means spending more time with you.

You accompany him on various tasks. From farming to foraging to trading at the market, you’ve almost done it all.

Today’s task, however, requires slightly more precision.

As you set off towards a stretch of open plains with Kinich, you speak jovially, sharing stories from the past without a care in the world. Kinich himself doesn’t speak much. Instead, he listens, trying his best to piece together fragments of a childhood he never got to experience. Seeing your face light up with joy as you recall amusing escapades or confounding situations causes Kinich’s heart to swell slightly.

You only begin to quiet down when you draw near your destination. Kinich already made it abundantly clear that in order to get anything worthwhile from this trip, you need to proceed with the utmost caution.

Although you try your hardest to keep stealth in your step, you find that you’re not nearly as adept as Kinich, who has had years of experience traversing this territory. Occasionally, the sound of leaves crackling and twigs snapping will reach Kinich’s ear, and he’ll catch a glimpse of you stumbling. After a few minutes of painstaking silence interrupted only by the uneven rhythm of clumsy footfalls, Kinich decides to take your hand to steady you.

He tells himself he’s doing it to ensure you don’t scare away his next meal — that he doesn’t want you to mess up and feel guilty. However, behind his icy demeanour woven from years of hardship lies a small part of him that secretly enjoys the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his, the warmth of his palms mingling with yours.

Meticulously, Kinich leads you to a towering bush, its fragile emerald leaves dense enough to conceal an entire person. Its branches sprout out in piercing patterns of disorderly pandemonium, reflecting the true ruggedness of nature in its visage.

“Hide here, and don’t make a noise until I get back,” he whispers, his soft breath tickling the shell of your ear. Your proximity nearly causes shivers to run down Kinich’s spine, but years of practice have taught him to effortlessly conceal all his sentiments. “Watch closely.”

With those parting words, Kinich makes his way into the foliage, clutching a boar trap within his hand. He scans the ground for an optimal spot to place the contraption, finally settling on an area after around a minute of contemplation. As soon as he sets the device down, he leaves as quickly as he entered the area, gracefully making his way back to you without making so much as a noise.

Huddled behind the bush, the two of you watch in anticipation. Now that Kinich has left, wild boars have begun to make their ways out into the open, blissfully grazing, unaware of the peril that lies before them. An unsuspecting boar inches closer and closer to the trap, and Kinich’s breath hitches in anticipation, waiting for it to foolishly take the bait.

However, just as the boar begins to sniff the food laid within cold metallic jaws, you lean forward to get a better look. Kinich doesn’t react fast enough to stop you. Your movement is slight, yet it causes a large disturbance. The leaves of the bush you’re hidden behind rustle, and the boar looks up, its idyllic haze seemingly perturbed.

Without a moment’s hesitation, it turns tail and runs, conveniently kicking fallen debris into the mouth of the trap, snapping it closed with a sharp click. The other wildlife in the area take off as well. A rush of polychromatic wings create shadows overhead as birds fly away, leaving only tufts of delicate feathers behind. Their dissonant cries echo in an ominous ode of precaution, alerting any other living beings in the area that there is danger lurking nearby.

So much for hunting.

Kinich sighs. Looks like it’ll be another few days before he’ll be able to get his hands on some meat. He just lost out on a sizable sum of mora. Now he’ll have to spend more on keeping himself fed over the next few days, he won’t have anything of worth to sell for extra money — and all that goes without even considering the time and resources he just wasted.

“Kinich, I’m so so sorry,” you start, shrinking back a little as your gaze meets his — an unreadable galaxy of jade and peridot, accentuated by intricate borders of copper and gold.

His heart clenches when he realizes that the look you’re regarding him with is one of fear and uncertainty. He doesn’t want you to feel that way, so with an uncharacteristic haste, he reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“No need to apologize,” Kinich reassures you, his words and tone soothing like a marine zephyr on a scorching summer day. “You were just curious.”

Kinich knows he has every right to be angry, but overreacting and directing his rage towards another person is the last thing he’d want to do. He knows better than anyone else the damage of misplaced blame and unwarranted rage.

He knows that normally under such circumstances, it would be most appropriate to calmly ask the other party to pay a sufficient price, but since it’s you, Kinich thinks he can let you off the hook. Just this once.

Mentally, he notes never to take you hunting again.

ACT V.

The flow of time is paradoxical, morphing and bending as seasons change and circumstances shift. In Kinich’s case, the former years of his life seemed to drag on, each harrowing second stretching into eons and millenia, but recently, he has begun to resent the evanescent essence of his days.

It feels like just yesterday, he was that fearful seven-year-old, all alone in the world without a soul to offer him solace. Now he’s sixteen — a little older and a lot wiser. Although the hardships he’s faced have been far from delightful, Kinich has had you by his side throughout it all.

The situation is no different in the present. Another hard day of labour passes as usual, and after hours upon hours of exerting yourselves under the blazing radiance of the sun, Kinich is ready to walk you home with a bag of today’s spoils.

However, as the two of you prepare for the journey ahead, ashen clouds begin to roll in, overtaking the pristine azure that once painted the sky. The light overhead starts to die out, fading at an agonizing swift pace. Although Kinich has safely escorted you home during minor storms before, he has a feeling today will be different. Something about the petrichor that floods his senses feels like a premonition, a warning of disasters to come, and the atmosphere is electrifying.

“We’d better get going if we want to make it before it starts pouring,” you chuckle lightheartedly, seemingly unperturbed. You only begin to look concerned when Kinich doesn’t respond, his mind clouded with a daze of rumination. Upon seeing your features morph into an expression of concern, Kinich finally snaps out of his trance.

“You should stay the night instead.” The confused look you shoot his way causes a wave of awkwardness to wash over the ambience, yet Kinich continues to elaborate. “I have a bad feeling about the incoming storm. It feels different.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you though,” you protest. “If we leave quickly, everything will probably be okay.”

Kinich shakes his head.

“You’re not a burden at all,” he whispers. “You’ve spent your precious time helping me. The least I could do is ensure your safety and offer my home as a refuge.”

Despite Kinich’s reassurances, you continue to refute his statements.

“But I really don’t think staying over is necessary. If you’re worried about walking back alone in a storm, you don’t need to accompany me. I’ll be okay. Promise.”

You turn away from Kinich, ready to set off. A rush of panic sends daggers of serrated trepidation to his soul. It’s unlike Kinich to lose his cool, and although he maintains a serene facade, the unsettling feeling that has been permeating his senses this entire time begins bubbling to the surface, each potential tragedy rushing through his mind in a frenzied series of what-ifs.

Without thinking, Kinich catches your wrist in his fingers, maintaining a loose grip.

“Don’t go,” he utters. He despises the vulnerability that laces his tone, but he’s more desperate than ever.

Kinich has already lost both his parents. The mere notion of losing you too is unbearable. If the storm really ends up being as intense as he predicts, he knows that muddy cliffsides, discombobulating spirals of sharp crystalline raindrops, and blinding flashes of lightning will all make for an incredibly disadvantageous situation. For a brief second, his mind flashes back to the way his father had passed, but he swiftly represses those thoughts, pushing them back into a seldom-visited corner of his mind.

When Kinich’s gaze meets yours, your expression softens. He can feel your resolve fading.

“Alright, fine,” you sigh. “You’re lucky my family has full confidence in your ability to protect me, otherwise they’d go ballistic if I didn’t come home.”

Just as you finally agree to Kinich’s proposition, the sensation of frosted drops of water prickles at his skin. The storm has begun. With haste, he pulls you indoors, quickly shutting the door to keep all the unwanted rain out.

The two of you wait it out, speaking leisurely as if nature isn’t erupting into chaos all around you. When you’re together, it feels like nothing else exists. Without a clear view of the sun in the sky, Kinich is unsure of how much time passes, but after a while, he notices that a haze of exhaustion begins to elicit yawns from you.

“Tired? You should get some sleep,” Kinich hums nonchalantly. The ambience feels tranquil, and despite the peril just outside the walls of his home, Kinich feels at ease.

You move to lie down on a dilapidated couch in the middle of the cramped living room, but Kinich immediately protests. He knows you’ll inevitably start to feel cold or uncomfortable, and that’s the last thing he wants you to experience as an honoured guest within his abode.

“Don’t sleep out here. You’ll freeze.”

Kinich takes your hand, and you allow him to pull you up. He leads you to another room — his room. For the most part, it’s barren, but Kinich watches as your eyes land on a small collection of items sitting atop an aged drawer beside his bed. Memorabilia from your various years together line the edges of dull wood — birthday gifts, trinkets that reminded you of him, and short notes of appreciation. He watches as a subtle grin etches itself into your features as embarrassment and admiration wash over him.

“You kept all this?” Slight surprise lines your tone as you pose your rhetorical question.

Kinich nods, unsure of how to elaborate. Even he’s not completely sure as to why he stores all the keepsakes you’ve ever presented him so meticulously. All he knows is that they’re important to him. You’re important to him.

“That’s sweet,” you mumble, leaning over to examine everything more closely. Your eyes linger on each object, memories flashing in their depths.

Kinich feels his heart flutter.

You spend a few minutes poring over the items and recollections of the past before finally retiring to bed. Kinich watches as you pull the covers over yourself, and he ensures you’re comfortable before turning to leave.

This time, however, it’s your turn to encircle your fingers around his arm, prompting him to stay.

“Where are you going?” you inquire, gazing up at Kinich curiously.

“Back to the living room,” he replies, gently twisting his wrist, loosening your grip.

“You said it was cold though.”

Kinich shrugs. “I don’t mind as long as you’re comfortable.”

“What if I think I’d be more comfortable with you by my side?”

Kinich tenses, and for a second, his brain malfunctions, barely processing the intent of your words. He comes to the realization that he’s not opposed to the idea. Besides, it was logical; it would help the two of you stay warm for the night.

“As long as you’re happy,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but into your eyes. Slowly, he begins to climb into bed beside you, cramming his limbs to one side in order to ensure you have enough personal space. Kinich feels unusually tense, and his heartbeat starts to spike in a melody of frantic sentiments as he begins to sense your body heat radiating from the other side of the bed.

Although Kinich tries to calm himself, it’s to no avail, especially when you shift over slightly, entangling your fingers with his. Your eyes flutter shut, and sleep pulls you under, lulling you into a whimsical land of nonsensical wonders. As frantic as the contact makes Kinich feel, he can’t bring himself to pry his hand from your grasp. The feeling of your fingers laced together is not an unpleasant sensation.

So with his hand in yours, Kinich falls asleep, and for the first night in his life, he experiences a truly restful slumber. His last thought before the tides of exhaustion drag him off to an ocean of reverie is how despite his unusual nerves, he wouldn’t mind doing this again.

And when Kinich comes to the next morning, he’s met with the most ethereal sight of his life. Early morning light blooms through the windows, tinting every corner of the room an aureate shade. The brilliance of the sun is utopia compared to the tumultuous conditions of last night, and as Kinich looks over at you, he notices the peace and content instilled within every dip and curve of your face.

You’re angelic, and the feeling of you by his side is just so right.

When Kinich comes to terms with the fact that he wants to wake up to the sight of your soft smile every single day, he finally realizes the true significance of the emotions he’s harboured towards you for years.

He’s in love.

ACT VI.

It isn’t often that you go to the market without Kinich by your side. The two of you are more or less a package deal, so when you show up alone, equipped with a small pouch of mora and without your most trusted companion, you immediately notice the whispers that follow.

“Do you think something happened to Kinich?”

“Maybe he got offered a commission that he deemed more worthy of his time.”

“Are you kidding me? Nothing is more important to Kinich than [name] — not even mora!”

The speculations range from reasonable to absolutely implausible, and in all honesty, you have no idea what Kinich is doing at the moment. All you can do is tune everything out and focus on your objective: finding a suitable friendship anniversary gift for Kinich.

Ever since Kinich became a saurian hunter and started taking commissions, you’ve been spending less and less time together. However, he’s always accompanied you to the market, helping you weigh each cost with the utmost precision. Although you’re rarely thrilled by the fact that he’s busier with his own affairs now, today is one of the few times where it works to your advantage. You want to surprise him with something special, and the absence of his presence will ensure that nothing is spoiled before the right time comes.

As you browse the goods sold by an elderly vendor, you feel a tug on the hem of your clothing. Upon looking down, you find yourself greeted by two familiar faces — Huni and Toba.

“Hey, little ones,” you say, grinning at the two children gazing at you with wide eyes. “Is something the matter?”

Huni nods furiously, Toba mimicking her actions just seconds later. You stifle a giggle. In a way, the two remind you of you and Kinich when you were younger — virtually conjoined.

“We were wondering if Kinich was okay,” Toba responds, nervously clasping his hands together.

“Ah,” you breathe out, finding yourself faced with expectant stares from all around. You can tell that prying eyes and ears have been trained on you, eager for any semblance of gossip. “Why does everyone seem to think something’s up with Kinich today?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Huni giggles, barely able to conceal her glee. “Everyone knows he follows you everywhere because the two of you are together.”

Toba nudges Huni lightly, his gaze becoming the slightest bit pointed as he reprimands her in a hushed tone. “Huni! You weren’t supposed to say that.”

You pause for a few seconds, thinking over the implications of Huni’s statement. Surely you misheard. Surely you’re just misinterpreting the girl’s words. Surely no one actually thinks you and Kinich are a couple, right?

“Excuse me, what?” you blurt out. No other words come to mind at the moment, as you’re too shocked to muster any coherent thought. “Kinich and I are what?”

“Together,” Huni states simply. “A couple. Totally head-over-heels for each other.”

A frown clouds your features as your muscles tense. You and Kinich are nothing more than friends, and although you’re extremely close — nearly abnormally so — you’ve never even discussed the possibility of being anything more. Why does everyone around you suddenly seem to think you’re in love?

Perhaps your confusion is evident because Huni continues to elaborate in excruciating detail.

“You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching — it’s like his eyes fill with the light of a thousand stars. Oh, he also always asks the shopkeepers if anything’s caught your eye recently whenever you’re distracted, and…”

You tune out Huni’s tangent about you and Kinich, the thoughts in your mind coming to a halt temporarily to protect yourself from the onslaught of confounding claims being made. It feels like complete blankness engulfs your mind as you remain frozen in place, each fleeting moment feeling more comparable to an eternity. The more you dwell on Huni’s assumption, the more you realize you don’t mind envisioning yourself with Kinich.

You’re only pulled out of your mental retreat when a familiar voice rings out through the discord of marketplace conversations.

“[Name],” Kinich greets you. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

To your relief, Toba drags Huni off as Kinich approaches, frantically trying to ensure that she doesn’t say anything more in front of the saurian hunter himself. You feel a sense of momentary relief, but now that Kinich is here, what are you going to do about his present?

“Yeah, I had some free time today and wanted to check out some of the new goods. It’s been about a week since I’ve come by.”

Unsurprisingly Kinich doesn’t look convinced. Doubt swirls in a faint starlight glimmer within irises of fern and honeyed sunbeams. He knows you like the back of his own hand.

“What’s really going on?” he asks, a hint of concern entangled in his tone. He watches you intently, awaiting your answer. His eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.

Busted. Although you would have much preferred keeping your gift to Kinich a surprise, you figure it’s still better to ensure he doesn’t worry that you’ve been roped into doing suspicious business. You know from experience that Kinich tends to take drastic measures when he thinks you’re in danger, and you’d rather not have him go to such lengths over nothing.

“You know how our friendship anniversary is coming up?” you explain.

A look of realization flashes across Kinich’s features. Before he can speak, a grating voice that you’ve been hearing more often in recent times interrupts.

“So my lowly servant and his pesky idiot of a companion had the same idea,” Ajaw cackles, appearing from behind Kinich. You try your best to stifle an exasperated groan. “Maybe you really are meant to be — after all, you share one collective brain cell!”

You glare at Ajaw, and Kinich sighs, nonchalantly raising an arm to send Ajaw off to solitary confinement.

“Sorry about that. Ajaw’s been acting up more than usual since the last time I put him in timeout,” Kinich says.

You chuckle before a realization suddenly hits you.

“Wait, Ajaw said you were here for the same reason as me,” you speak hesitantly. “Were you getting me a gift too?” The way Kinich averts his gaze as you ask your question nearly elicits more giggles from you.

“Looks like we caught each other at the worst time,” Kinich sighs.

You nod in agreement, and although you’re slightly disappointed you couldn’t have kept your secret mission inconspicuous, you find the corners of your lips turning up in a smile. There’s a strange sort of comfortable humour in the situation that you only experience around Kinich.

“Since we’re both here anyway, we might as well go shopping together,” you hum, taking Kinich’s hand and dragging him off. Maybe people will stop bothering you now that Kinich is by your side again.

You wander with Kinich, gaze flitting over various items on display. However, despite all your searching, nothing quite piques your interests. It’s not until rose and clematis scatter themselves across the sky in a brilliant display of mosaic-esque shards that something finally catches your eye.

On a small table tucked within an obscure corner of the marketplace sits two matching bracelets, delicate stars engraved into opulent charms hanging from each one. The woven threads of each accessory look intricately-crafted to the point where even the finer details appear flawless.

They’re beautiful, but more importantly, they remind you of that night more than a decade ago where Kinich had wished upon a star for the first time in years. They remind you of the night where Kinich found hope once more. That’s what seals the deal for you.

“Excuse me, Ms. Vendor. I’ll take the two bracelets.”

ACT VII.

No one takes death seriously until it comes knocking at their door.

Kinich comes to the realization as he trembles on the battlefield of the Night Warden Wars, his bones aching and his joints ready to give up on him. He’s exhausted, and all he wants to do is close his eyes and allow the frigid touch of death to kiss away the last remnants of warmth from his soul. However, relenting would mean admitting defeat.

Relenting would mean never seeing you again.

(And that’s the last thing he wants.)

Everyone lives as if their time is unlimited — as if tomorrow is guaranteed to come. Humans tend to assume the future is a never-ending tale, a novel with no finale, so they continuously delay, waiting and waiting and waiting because they believe they still have many years ahead of them to wrap up their affairs.

Kinich realizes all too late that he has been ensnared within the same folly. As he remains slumped on the ground, clutching at his bleeding chest, a sense of deep regret washes over him.

He never got to tell you that he loved you.

Even after all these years, Kinich has never been able to bring himself to utter those words — not even once — and now, he’ll pay the price for his hesitation. A small part of him has always been too cowardly to cross the line from friendship into the uncharted territory of something more. 

Kinich hardly knows much pertaining to love, but from what little he’s seen in his former years of life, he knows it’s a double-edged sword — a smoldering flame of passion that burns with unparalleled brilliance. But when a roaring blaze grows too intense, it consumes all, leaving nothing but ashes and tears.

His parents had been in love at some point. Kinich recalls the times where his father would embrace his mother after handing her a breathtaking bouquet of flowers, his lips brushing across her bruised cheek with a rare sweetness. In those moments, Kinich’s father would whisper words of affirmation to his mother — promises and saccharine reassurances that would always remain unfulfilled.

Yet more often than not, their “love” consisted of domestic quarrels, the shattering of glassware against the walls of a derelict house or the slap of a hand across blemished skin. Love had destroyed them, and Kinich’s worst fear is the thought of your relationship falling apart.

So he’s maintained an ample distance throughout the years, keeping you at arm’s length to ensure nothing goes wrong. He’s always been by your side, close enough to share embers of his love yet not close enough to burn you, and now his caution is returning to haunt him.

Kinich is going to die before he has the chance to confess his true feelings.

As much as he wills himself to stay conscious, his eyelids begin to grow heavy, threatening to flutter shut for the last time. The sweet sensation of death threatens to lull Kinich into an eternal slumber, luring him in with a deceptively-tantalizing siren song, filled with promises of peace and an end to his suffering. A sense of fear grips Kinich as his life begins slipping away. He’s not ready to die. There’s so much he still wants to experience with you.

A million thoughts race through his mind before his imminent demise.

He thinks of Ajaw, who would be free to catalyze the implosion of the seven nations without Kinich around. As cruel as fate has been to him, Kinich doesn’t want the world to burn.

He thinks of his comrades — fallen warriors who had fought valiantly until they no longer had the strength to go on. They deserve to be revered and honoured, not lost to the sands of time.

And he thinks of you. His everything.

The weight of the star bracelet you had gifted him starts feeling a lot heavier. When you purchased it, you had told him it brought back recollections from one of the best days of your life, adding that you hoped you’d make many more precious memories in the future.

Kinich can’t let you down now.

A wish flickers to life within the depths of his soul, desperately manifesting in shades of emerald and rich forest green. Resplendent viridescent tourmaline glints by his chest where there had once been a gaping wound, fueling Kinich with revived vigor. Kinich feels rejuvenated, and with his newfound strength, he stands, preparing to face another onslaught of abyssal attacks.

This time he’s ready, and he’ll stop at nothing until he purges every last enemy.

Kinich is determined to fight — for Natlan, for his comrades, and most importantly, for you.

ACT VIII.

When a hero returns from war, they are typically met with the relieved faces of their loved ones and an outpouring of affection. However, Kinich finds that neither of these things welcome him upon his arrival home. Instead, he is greeted by the sight of an exasperated frown on your face and vitreous tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“You’re so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I can’t believe you almost got yourself killed!” You continue to ramble on, your words amalgamating in a panicked jumble of incoherence as Kinich wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a warm embrace. Ever since Kinich told you what happened during the Night Warden Wars, you’ve been distraught.

To his relief, he feels the tension within your body dissipate as the proximity between the two of you gradually dwindles. With your face finally hidden from view, you allow your teardrops to flow freely down your cheeks in bittersweet rivulets; Kinich can tell from the way his clothing seems to dampen. Absent-mindedly, Kinich traces circles on your back, calmly running through cycles upon cycles to ground you.

“Sorry,” is all Kinich can muster, his throat feeling parched under the scrutiny of your glare as you pull away to shoot him a nasty look. There’s so much more he wants to say to you, but he can’t find the strength to put any of it into words. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

You scoff, your tone nearly sardonic in nature, yet beneath it all, Kinich can sense how much you missed him —- how terrified you were that you would never see him again.

“Is that all you have to say?” you ask. “You nearly died, Kinich. I nearly lost you.”

The lines of your facial features, once creased in irritation, soften, giving way to vulnerability.

“I know,” he sighs, shivering as resignation chills him to the bone. He hates the fact that you’re right. Kinich reaches out to caress your cheek, gently wiping a tear in the process. “I’m still here though.”

“That doesn’t guarantee the same thing won’t happen in the future,” you choke out between hushed sobs. “What if next time you actually…”

Before you can go on, Kinich presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you. For a few seconds, he simply allows you to lose yourself within the comfort of his arms. He needs you to process the fact that he’s tangible, breathing, alive, before he says anything more. Kinich waits for your ragged gasps to even out before speaking.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, moving a hand to lace your fingers together.

You nod furiously, eyeing Kinich suspiciously through your sorrowful display of emotions.

“Then believe me when I say I’ll always return to you,” Kinich whispers softly.

Moments go by before you hesitantly respond.

“Fine.”

Kinich isn’t one to break promises. Ending a contract unceremoniously leads to mounting costs and debt, so he tends to avoid obliging to tasks he considers impossible. Perhaps that’s why you relent so easily. You know Kinich would never go back on his word — especially not if it has anything to do with you.

“I’m still expecting you to make it up to me though. I was unbelievably worried.”

“Sure thing,” Kinich replies, his voice breezy and nonchalant once more.

Just let me hold you for a little while longer first.

ACT IX.

Adrenaline courses through Kinich’s veins, fueling him with an urgent sort of determination. He races the wind, desperately trying to transcend nature itself. He’s always been quick, but right now, he’s not sure he’ll be quick enough.

You could be in danger.

If Kinich had known that there had been a surge in abyssal activity within the territory of the People of the Springs, he would have never let you accompany Mualani and the Traveler on their excursion; he wouldn’t have sent Ajaw away on a special mission in the dead of night in an attempt to seek some peace and quiet either. However, Kinich only found out a mere hour ago, and now he’s scrambling to reach you without the aid of his flying companion.

Kinich knows very well that he could arrive just to find that nothing serious is going on, but the thought of not being by your side to protect you in the case that something actually does happen glazes his soul over into a thousand fractals of crystalline fear.

That’s why he runs with as much haste as he can muster, guided by gilded lights reflected in untamed waters, their glow casting a luminous sheen across the wavering ocean surface. As Kinich draws closer, he senses a feeling of foreboding in the air, charging his surroundings with the essence of an ominous premonition.

And then he hears it — an ear-shattering scream.

No matter how much Kinich’s legs scream for respite, he rushes on. With every step, his pace only accelerates. The sole thought on his mind is getting to you in time.

When he finally reaches the village, pandemonium is the first thing to make his acquaintance. Warriors from the tribe fiercely attempt to fend off the incoming assault on their homeland, parrying the attacks of each monstrous entity with precision developed throughout years of rigorous training. Kinich knows they’re skilled at fighting. He trusts them, so instead of delaying, he rushes to more secluded corners of the town, fending off any monsters lurking around the outskirts in the hopes that he’ll run into you on the way.

He swings his claymore as if it's instinct, warding off all peril as he desperately searches the din of discombobulating havoc for any sign of you. His first potential lead comes in the form of a cerulean blur, followed closely by a flash of gold — two of Kinich’s few friends. Before Kinich can call their names, they’re already out of earshot. However, as he turns away to continue his search, a small fairy-esque creature barrels into him, swaying slightly as a ferocious gale attempts to send her flying into disarray.

Kinich reacts quickly, his body working faster than his brain. With ease, he snatches the entity from the sky, effectively pulling her out of harm’s way.

“Hello, Paimon,” Kinich says, fighting to keep his tone neutral. With great difficulty, he suppresses all the anxiety, facing Paimon without betraying so much as a hint of emotion. Truthfully, he’s a wreck on the inside.

“Kinich!” Paimon exclaims, her high-pitched voice cutting through the cacophony of noise ringing out in the turbulent night. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for [name]. Have you seen them around?”

Kinich doesn’t realize he’s holding in his breath until he hears Paimon’s response. A small gasp slips past his lips.

“Um, last Paimon heard, they were heading to the east part of the village. There were some kids playing there earlier without supervision.”

Of course. Kinich should have known you were off helping others. You had always been willing to lend a hand to those in need, even when you first met Kinich. It was one of your many traits that charmed him all those years ago.

“Thank you, Paimon,” Kinich says, trying his best to keep a building sense of dread at bay. “You should catch up with the Traveler now.”

“See you soon, Kinich,” Paimon chirps before zipping away.

Now that he’s alone, Kinich finally allows the panic to set in. With even more fervour than before, he speeds off in your direction, grasping at various ledges with his grappling hook to move quicker. Kinich is all but weightless, akin to a delicate feather drifting through the breeze. However, it’s still not enough.

You’re cornered and alone when he finally spots you, backed to a wall as two beastly hounds eye you hungrily, sparks of violet electricity igniting in their irises. Just as Kinich figures that the kids have been brought to safety, one of the creatures lets out a guttural roar, a horrific sound unlike anything from this world. You cower in response. Time seems to slow as Kinich watches the abomination extend its claws, ready to rip into you without mercy.

Before he can spare another thought, Kinich’s body reacts. He flings himself through the air, landing precariously fast and skidding along the grass. As he starts slowing to a stop in front of you, he swings his claymore, countering the abyssal wolf’s attack.

Kinich shields you. No matter how perilous the situation becomes, he knows he will need to remain steadfast and resolute.

As the dust settles, you finally catch a glimpse of Kinich. He hears you call his name, feels your hand brush against his shoulder, and senses you shuffling next to him.

However, danger still lurks before you, so with one hand, Kinich lightly shoves you back, taking caution to ensure you won’t end up injured.

“Let me handle this,” he says, extending an arm to prevent you from taking another step forward. He changes his stance and faces the hounds head-on.

The monsters prepare to attack again, and Kinich takes it as a sign to charge forth, swinging his claymore with as much force as he can manage. Although the beasts are fearsome, Kinich lands blow after blow, gradually weakening them with each hit. The only thing on his mind right now is his desire to protect — to save you like you saved him all those years ago.

Kinich allows his instincts to take over, relying on the battle experience he’s accumulated to guide him through the abyssal skirmish. Suddenly he feels as though he’s back in the Night Warden Wars, fighting with all his heart to ensure he’d see you again. His resolve steels, and with one final strike of his weapon, he dispels all danger, banishing the hounds before him to the precarious realm from whence they came.

As soon as Kinich has ensured that the situation has settled, he turns back to inquire about your wellbeing. However, before a single word can slip past his lips, you run up to him and collapse in his arms, trembling like a leaf within a harrowing autumn squall.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. Kinich holds you tighter, his grip so secure that even death wouldn’t be able to pry you from his grasp. “I’ve got you.”

“I was so scared… that I’d never see you again,” you gasp between shaky breaths, your panic slowly beginning to dissipate.

Kinich feels a lump in his throat and a pang in his chest. He knows better than anyone how you must have felt, what you were thinking as you lived out what you thought were your last moments. He was in your exact situation once, and all he can recall is his final plea to Celestia — his wish to return home to the welcoming sight of your radiant visage at least once more.

“I couldn’t die before I told you that,” you hesitate, your words catching in your throat, “before I told you that I loved you.”

Kinich’s breath hitches. His body freezes, and his surroundings become all but null. Maybe you really are telepathically linked because that had been his exact thought as he felt his life ebbing away during the Night Warden Wars, ascending to a divine plane in chapters of fragile mortality.

“You love me?” Kinich breathes out. In the mayhem, all is momentarily forgotten as blissful euphoria overtakes his heart, sending zephyrs of rose-tinted elation through his mind. After an eternity of waiting, Kinich finally realizes his feelings are reciprocated. “I love you too.”

The look on your face softens as sensibility and coherency begin to overtake you once more, but before you can return Kinich’s affections, dissonant screams and crashes shatter your transient utopia.

Right. You’re still in the midst of chaos.

“Do you know where the Traveler and Mualani were headed?” Kinich questions you urgently, recoiling slightly as he ruins the moment. He hates the fact that he’ll have to push aside the implications of your confession for now, but at the moment, people’s lives are still in danger.

You nod vigorously.

“I’ll take you over to them and then head back to the village to assist in resolving the crisis. We can talk more tonight.”

ACT X.

The festivities of the People of the Springs stretch well past midnight that evening, celebrating the triumph of their heroes and the recovery of the esteemed warrior Atea. Lively melodies ring out in the refreshing night air, filling the evening with songs of invigorating joy and glorious victory. Even from atop a cliff overlooking everything, the warm atmosphere still engulfs you. Although you had stayed for the commencement of the party, you and Kinich eventually decided to retire to a slightly more secluded area to pick up your conversation from earlier.

“So,” you start, your nerves beginning to flare up in a culmination of resplendent flames, “where do we start?” Subconsciously, you begin to toy with your fingers, and you don’t notice until Kinich stops you, taking your hand in his.

“Well first things first, we know we love each other,” he states, looking into your eyes. Ardor dances within his gaze, making itself at home between brilliant murals of malachite and topaz. The way moonlight catches in his irises, illuminating his features with a certain softness, makes your heart melt.

Now that Kinich no longer has to hold back, his immense love for you becomes tremendously apparent. As he traces circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, you realize that even the silences are adorned with gentle reminders of his feelings for you.

“It seems so obvious now,” you laugh lightly. “I wonder why we didn’t end up confessing sooner.”

Kinich hums nonchalantly, averting his eyes for just a second before turning back to you.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I was scared?” Kinich asks.

Amusement graces his features as you shake your head. Nowadays, Kinich is usually so calm — so composed — never allowing his demeanour to betray even the slightest hint of distress. From hunting saurians to extreme sports to tolerating Ajaw’s creative threats all the time, Kinich has endured everything with a brave face, but now you’re starting to realize that perhaps he isn’t quite as fearless as he appears.

“What were you scared of?” you inquire, tilting your head slightly to examine Kinich.

A pause ensues as Kinich mulls over his response, mentally preparing himself to pour out his heart. He’s not used to it, but he’s ready to start trying for you.

“Ruining the best thing life has ever given me,” he whispers. “You know you’re everything to me, right?”

You’re breathless as you stare at Kinich. The pure emotion behind his words is enough to widen your grin. Your heart feels like it’s ready to pulse out of your chest, speeding up in a grand accelerando and growing louder in a magnificent crescendo.

Everything is perfect.

Everything is as it should be when you’re with him.

This is your flawless elysium.

“May I?” You cup Kinich’s face with one hand, leaning towards him. Your gaze falls on his lips, and you hear him breath in softly.

Kinich nods, reciprocating your actions as he bridges the gap between you.

Time seems to slow as your lips meet in an incandescent flash of effulgent sparks. The night gleams in shades of starlight and utopia, illuminating the moment with a brilliance that encapsulates nothing less than pure love. Perhaps your souls have been intertwined since the beginning, or perhaps destiny pulled some strings to bring the two of you together, but you’re absolutely certain that from this moment on, you would only part in death.

As you pull away from Kinich, a strange smile adorns his features. Before you can question him, he speaks.

“I finally repaid you,” he says, “after all this time.”

You laugh. He’s still worrying about that?

“Thank you, love, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore,” you respond. A part of you finds it endearing that he’s still trying to make things even after your countless seasons together, yet you feel obligated to reassure him he never has to reimburse you again.

Kinich gazes at you inquisitively.

“There’s no debt between lovers, silly — only pure adoration and happiness.”

FIN. tysm for taking the time to read this fic <3

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

Charming Killer: 2

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Pairing: Neteyam x reader

PART ONE PART THREE

Summary: Neteyam confronts his fears of the scientists compound in his attempts to reach you. He’s all over you the second he see’s you and while you don’t really know what he’s saying it doesn’t fail to have an effect on you.

Warnings: I basically turned him into a cat unintentionally. 

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I did not proof read this very well cause I was working on multiple fics then realised I had nothing to post! She’s as good as it gets rn kids sorry.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

Keep reading

pretty good looking family if u ask me

YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE H0RN¥

PREMISE: You're just friends, but you wanna test the boundaries. How does he react when you tell him that you're horny?

INCLUDES: Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Poe, Atsushi, Ranpo

No smut, heavy on dialogue. These are goofy!! One part only.

Akutagawa

That gif is the horny taking over his body.

"Akutagawa."

"Hm?"

"I'm horny."

He looks up at you, face somewhere between horror-stricken and confused.

"Why would you say such a thing to me?"

"Obviously because I want you to do something about it."

"What?"

"I said--"

"--No, no, I heard you the first time."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Sooo, do you want to have sex, orrr?"

Akutagawa stares blankly at something nearby for a solid minute, completely silent, and then stands up abruptly.

"Yes. Let's go to a love hotel."

Dazai

"Dazaaaaai. I'm horny," you whine, an over-exaggerated pout on your face.

"Ohh? Shall I help you take care of that?" He purrs, exaggeratedly flirting. "I'll treat you reaaaal nice." He winks, ready for you to say something like "ew no, freak" and laugh it off like usual. Except...

"God, yes. I was gonna ask."

"Huh?" He short-circuits. He pauses, trying to figure out if you're fucking with him or not. Usually you'd start laughing after two or three seconds, but you're standing up and walking toward him--

"Holy shit. Oh my god, you're serious?!" He jumps up from his chair, eyes lighting up, and horny stirring in his pants. "If you're joking you have to tell me right now."

"Why don't you come with me to the broom closet and see if I'm joking?"

"This is the greatest day of my life," he says as you pull him along.

Nikolai

"I'm really horny, so you're gonna have to stop looking so hot or I'm gonna have to leave."

The grin he already wore spread wider across his face.

"Is that so?"

He summons and portal and in the blink of an eye is crowding you in your space, laying a hand on your thigh, breathing on your neck.

"What's doing it for you, dovey? Is it the beautiful, luscious hair? My devilishly handsome smile?"

"It's those fucking thunder thighs in the striped pants is what it is," you huff, trying to push him back, but he takes your hands and moves your arms to be around his shoulders.

"I can keep them on while I fuck you," he says lowly into your ear. "Would you like that?"

You pull him against you.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Nikolai."

Poe

"Poe, I'm having a really nice time hanging out with you and all, but I have to be honest: I'm really horny, so I probably need to go home before I start trying to fuck you."

He is so flustered that he can't even form a sentence. What you can see of his face is beet red, and he scrambles for the door. You think he's going to open it and usher you out, but he presses his back against it, blocking your exit.

"No," he finally says, "Don't leave."

"Poe, you're in the danger zone. If I don't relieve some tension I'm gonna get really grouchy."

"I can help," he stutters out.

"Huh?"

He starts trying to apologize, but you laugh and cross the room to him.

"I didn't expect you to be into it," you admit. "I definitely said it to get your attention, but I thought you'd say no."

"Then I have not made my feelings known enough."

Atsushi

"Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Sure!" Atsushi responds enthusiastically. Your head is laying in his lap and you're staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Do you ever get horny when you hang out with your friends?"

"Uhh, I don't think that's something that happens with your friends," he says, and you turn to look up at him.

"It doesn't? Like, you've never gotten horny while spending time with me?"

"Uhh..." His face slowly starts turning red.

"I've gotten horny hanging out with you. I'm kind of horny right now, honestly."

"UMMMMM..........."

"So you're saying that right now my face being near your dick isn't turning you on?"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"I sure hope you wouldn't because I think I can literally feel you getting hard against my skull. Do you wanna stop talking and start making out now?"

Ranpo

"I'm horny."

"I know."

"What? How do you know?"

"You keep squirming in your seat, you're trying to arch your back when you lean your elbow on the table, and you keep biting your lip when you think I'm not looking at you."

"But you must be looking at me because you noticed all of that. But I haven't seen your eyes on me."

"I'm watching you from the corner of my eye like I usually do."

"Oh? And why would you be watching me, Ranpo?"

"Because I like to?" he says like it's obvious.

"Do you have a little crush on me, Ranpo?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. If only you have my super deduction you'd know."

"I don't think I need super deduction to know. I think I can figure it out in one question."

"Oh? Try me."

"When are you going to fuck me?"

He tries to bite back a smile but he can't. He finally looks directly at you, and it tells you everything you need to know.

"Your place or mine?"

Dealt to a Devil (Dante x Reader)

Needed to write a little something something for this absolute babygirl...In this your Dante's arms dealer. Pretty sure he doesn't have Ebony and Ivory(his staple guns) in the show yet so this is grounds for some fun with an arms dealer he just can't seem to pay on time! Hope ya enjoy~ (This came out to be 8K and I'm already planning a smut scene soo...yay...)

You groan as you hoist the duffle bag you’re struggling with onto your shoulder more, the hefty weight making the strap of the bag dig into you roughly. You had to park further down the street than you would’ve liked and had to hoof it the rest of the way to Dante’s current residence. 

It’s not the nicest part of town but you’re unshaken as you take confident strides down the street. You’ve done business in far worse situations and way shaddier locations than this. And even if you hadn’t you’d fake it… Nobody wants to buy a gun from someone whose shoulders shake and knees weaken at the first sign of shit going down after all. 

 Besides, Dante is a repeat client by this point. Guy goes through guns and ammo like you’d never seen before and he’s usually good for it. Usually…You’ve brought weapons to him for a restock before and he’s been short, or completely broke, and you’ve let it slide…But it’s gotten more frequent the last few months. Him feigning innocence, chirping that you’re overcharging him while giving you a knowing smirk or just plain shrugging his shoulders and waving his hand at you while he examines the pistol you’ve brought him. 

Any attempt at a complaint has fallen on deaf ears, he sloppily scribbles down an IOU on a greasy napkin and shoves it into your hand or he says that you know damn well he’s good for it and that he’ll pay you for it after the fact. 

The last time you dropped off a request for him was the most infuriating though…You’d brought over a fresh supply of his preferred bullets and handgun model only for him to be A.) Flat broke and B.) Completely shirtless when he opened the door. 

He must’ve done that on purpose or saw the opportunity when he got a peek at the bright red flash across your cheeks and how quickly your eyes darted away from him.He got two fucking guns and a months worth of ammo completely free!! His reasoning?! 

“I’d say the sight I gave you makes this a fair trade.” 

You’re not gonna lie to yourself and say you didn’t enjoy what you saw…But still! You’re trying to run a business here! Not a completely legal business but a business none the less! He’s gotta get better about paying you for his guns-your guns! His equipment-your equipment! Fuck…The sight of his shirtless body was still burned into your brain…Plus that little smirk and wink didn’t help either…

Damn him…

You let out a grumbled sigh as you readjust the bag hanging off your arm and use your free hand to grab the handle on the actual bag, trying to alleviate some pressure on your shoulder. With your hands full, you settle on kicking the bottom of Dante’s door instead of knocking, hoping your annoyance might be conveyed in your kicks. Your brows furrow as you hear shuffling from beyond the door but are kept waiting. Foot tapping angrily as the seconds turn to minutes as the noises only grow, the sounds of furniture moving and loud thuds become more rapid and rhythmic. 

“Oh this mother fucker…” Your eye twitches and you swear you can feel a vein in your forehead throb as you glare at the door. Is he really getting it on with someone right now?! You got a rapid barrage of texts and phone calls from him telling you that he needed a restock before the next morning and now he’s keeping you waiting so he can get his dick wet?! Fuck no! Not when he still owes you money from your last few drop offs and had the audacity to fucking wreck your own night! Not that you had plans but it’s the principle ya know?

That’s it! If he’s gonna be this inconsiderate then so are you!

You drop the heavy duffle with a loud thud onto the ground and roll your shoulder a little, rubbing the now sore spot with your free hand before you turn your attention back to the door. You take a slight step back and plant your foot before you lift your right leg towards your chest and slam the heel of your boot firmly into the door, close to the handle but not right on it. The wood cracks and splinters the doorframe, the deadbolt still sticking out from the door and the now broken chain lock on the inside clatters onto the floor. 

You smile proudly to yourself, first time that’s worked on the first try, but you have to hide your grimace as you put your foot back on the ground. Already you can feel a sharp twinge of pain shoot from your heel as you lean back on it so you know it’s going to be an even worse injury in the morning but you bury that for now. With your eyes closed, you pick up the duffle bag and push your way inside the domicile.

You’ve got no intention of prolonging this meeting and you’re not leaving without the money he owes you. 

“Listen asshole, you’ve got three minutes to get dressed and pay me for this shit. I’m not pl-ahck!”

With your declaration interrupted, you’re tackled to the ground and all but pinned to the ground. When you finally open your eyes you see it’s none other than the deadbeat you were just demanding money from that tackled you. Before you can chew him out or even attempt to kick him off of you, your eyes land on a pair of wild eyes, focused and fierce while his mouth flashes a wicked fanged grin down at you.  

“Perfect timing, Doll.” 

In your confusion you’re temporarily stunned as your eyes struggle to focus on the man above you while he throws his attention back towards something else…something far more sinister lurking deeper in the room. Just as you go to prop yourself up on your elbows, you're forced back onto the floor, Dante’s strong frame pressing you down as you as his hand grabs the top of your head, almost like he’s trying to protect you from something. 

“Dante, wha-FUCK!” Your eyes just barely manage to catch sight of a bright blue and black tendril slamming into the wall right next to where the door was, a small crater forming in the wall as clumps of drywall, dust, and grit fall to the floor.Two more tendrils whiz passed the two of you. One going into the opposite side of the door and the other anchoring itself into the floor. In the excitement, you’d closed your eyes to try and protect them from the plume of debris and you barely notice Dante rolling off of you. 

Throwing himself between the tendrils, Dante slides to a stop as he rummages through the duffle bag you’d brought for him. Rolling over onto your stomach, you brace yourself up by your arms before you follow Dante’s unwavering gaze as he aims a gun towards something yet seen by you. 

Eyes trailing, you squint only briefly before a large blue and black swirling mass somehow lets out an anguished roar and launches itself closer towards the now wide open door. You scramble to your feet and throw yourself towards a nearby wall as you watch in horror while Dante looks like he’s having the time of his life. Though that’s short lived.

His aim is true as far as you could tell. One knee to the ground with his other leg kicked out to the side, both arms straight out as he aims towards the creature fast approaching him. A quick huff of air blows from him before he curls his lips into a nearly snarling grin before he squeezes the triggers on the dual pistols you’d brought in your goody bag for him. 

Dumbass…

He knows you don’t keep hot weapons like that in your duffle…Fucking idiot…

His smirk drops when he hears that all too familiar *click* in unison come from the guns in his hands. Just barely managing to dodge out of the way, Dante ducks to the side only for the swirling beast to wrap a barbed appendage around his legs before it slams him into the ground. Normally you’d scold him for dry firing your merchandise but that’s very, very, very low on your totem pole of things to worry about at the moment. 

Throwing the long tail of his red coat out of the way as he swings his arm backwards, Dante pulls out a large serrated knife, throwing it blade first into the still approaching creature. Unseen claws digging into the wooden floor as it screeches to a halt,an unholy guttural shriek leaving a half formed mouth as it recoils in on itself where the blade is dug in. A slimy looking maelstrom appearing on the surface as the weapon slowly sinks into the …flesh? 

Having only a moment to grab his composure as the tendrils weaken, Dante rips his leg from the loosening hold the creature had on him and rushes back towards the duffle bag you barged in with. 

“WHY THE HELL DID YOU HAND ME AN UNLOADED GUN?!” 

His words are laced with disdain as he quickly loads his weapons, not so much as taking a second to even look in your direction as he yells. 

 The reprieve from the fight is short lived as the monster roars back to life, a metallic wail emitting from the intruder, and just as Dante turns to aim towards the beast, he hears a quick succession of gunshots…all coming from your direction. 

“I didn’t hand you shit! You grabbed two unloaded guns from my bag!” 

A flailing tendril flies through the air and trashes wildly. It finds the couch and all but launches it across the room back in Dante’s direction, the attacks seemingly random and without reason. The strong appendages struggle to regain their composure as they slam back into the ground, a newly armed Dante laying into the creature with his own new toys. The casing scattering the floor as he shoots, his boots kicking them out of the way as he closes in on the beast…though the bullets do little to stun it. 

You’ve only got one bullet left when you start to run back to your bag, it’s not far from you but you’d have to run out from behind the small cover you’ve made for yourself behind a tipped over coffee table and run behind Dante to retrieve any extra ammo. 

Throwing yourself from behind the cover, you get half way to Dante before a large tendril slams right infront of your path. Planting your feet, you stop before you hit the arm and trace your eyes to the monster before you. 

The swirling beast slinks back further, its surface still warbling from the bullets entering its body as parts of the flesh slowly split apart…a pair of eyes slowly prying themselves open. First looking in opposite directions, the pure white pupils juxtaposed to the deep crimson scleral, only to then snap into unison as it focused. New sinister eyes landing on your frame as it lets out a deep groan…

Your breath hitches and you can feel your chest tighten. While the creature doesn’t move any closer you can feel the presence growing. A second pair of eyes forming, then a third…then another. Every eye formed has its gaze fixed solely on you. 

 All the while you’re frozen in your stance. Your knees locked as your grip tightens around your gun. For the first time in your adult life your hands are shaking in fear, your heart is racing, and there’s a choking lump in the back of your throat. 

You’re a deer in headlights.

But you’ll be damned if you're anything’s prey…

Steeling your nerves, you raise your gun to aim at your ‘admirer’ but a strong arm forces down your weapon.

Your eyes snap up to Dante who is simply watching the creature, his eyes scanning before he slowly drags a hand up your arm to the back of your shirt. You struggle in his grasp for a second as you glare up at the tall man, your lips curled in a snarl as you practically bark at him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me like that! Let go, Dante!” 

“Shh-”

“Do NOT shush me right now!” 

You’re not yelling, but you are hissing up at him as he tightens the hold he has of you. You can feel his fingers curl into the fabric on the back of your shirt, holding you in place as you struggle against him, having to split your attention between the 6 whatever foot guy holding you and the slimy creature that’s slowly inching forward towards the pair of you. 

“Dante, what the hell are you doing?! That thing clearly doesn’t want to play nice!” 

“Just trust me…Don’t move…” His voice, trailing off with a seriousness you’ve never heard from him. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Dante’s right hand still clutched around one of the pistols you brought over for him, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as he sizes up your attacker.

 A bit of dirt and dust smeared across his cheek, Dante’s eyes are focused on the enemy ahead of him. His finger carefully adjusting then readjusting as he has it wrapped around the trigger, his eyes flicker quickly down to you before he winks at you…Like he doesn’t know you’re on the outside of an inside joke. 

“Want her?” 

“Wait what?!” 

Dante forces your smaller frame towards the creature, his focus trained on the first set of eyes that appeared. Eyes narrowing slightly as another part starts to split apart, this time instead of a horizontal tear, this time it's a tall vertical one that cuts the spaces between the rows of eyes. 

Slowly the flesh splits, the slime spread across the surface pulling apart with stringed bits still clinging to the opposite side before they snap apart. The grotesque display and sickeningly wet audio accompaniments send a shiver up your spine as you turn round to glare at Dante. Your eyes fierce and wide, the little bit of admiration you once held for the man quickly turning to contempt as he offers you on a silver platter to this thing.

The man still has a vice grip hold on the back of your shirt and before you can curse him you feel a cold, mucusuy wetness wrap around your left arm. Your panicked recoil only ends with Dante shoving you closer to the creature, your hair falling infront of your face as you struggle. 

“Go on, take her. She’s right there. Easy meal”

“You fucking traitor!!” 

You practically spit venom at Dante as you reel from the monster. There’s a dull pulsing coming from the tongue as it slowly wraps its way up your arm more, tugging you closer as it opens its new mouth more. Rows of sharp lined teeth just barely visible as the newly formed lips curl outward, a sickeningly sour smell hitting your nostrils and it brings a few tears to your eyes. 

Your feet dragging across the floor, you don’t want to look towards the creature’s mouth as you’re almost certain it’ll be the last thing you see before you die. Instead, you’ve rescinded yourself to taking out the piece of shit who got you into this mess in the first place. 

“DANTE!!” 

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you jerk your head back over your shoulder to look at him, your eye twitching in annoyance before you manage to rip your right arm free of the slimy hold. Your gun is gripped tightly in your hand as you raise it, your eyes glaring at Dante as your sight focuses on him. Your finger curled around the trigger and you would’ve squeezed without hesitation…if you hadn’t been met with Dante aiming his weapon directly back at you. 

Before you can finish him off, Dante flashes you a quick grin before giving you another wink. His aim shifting just a hair to the left, he fires a singular bullet into the mouth of the creature that still has its long tongue wrapped around you, the appendage having made its way clear up to your neckline right before he fires. 

Whizzing right passed you, the bullet strikes right where Dante had been aiming the entire time. Deep in the gullet of the beast was a singular weakpoint, a mound of exposed nerves that typically would never see the light of day, or in this case the light of his dimly lit living room. He wasn’t certain what he was up against until he saw the mouth form on the creature. 

That particular kind of demon is difficult to kill once it grows to that size, the only way to do so is by striking that spot directly. Best way to get a clean shot off? Feed the damn thing, gets it’s guard down and has that weak point exposed. 

Once he saw that the creature had set its eyes on you, well…who was he to pass up an easy win? Man doesn’t usually get those, so he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. And it’s not like he was going to let it actually eat you! He had everything under control…

Or so he’d claim. 

Once the bullet lodges itself deep in the nerves of the foe, another shrill yowl fills the otherwise quiet room. The tendrils strewn about Dante’s living room recoiling and colliding back into the body while the beast quivers and quakes in discomfort and pain. Flesh shaking and shivering around you, you try in vain to rip your body from the deathgrip ensnaring you to no avail. 

“Hold on, Hold on!” 

The sound of a near cackle and heavy bootsteps find their way to your ears, your left arm grabbed by Dante, the man you were aiming a gun at just a mere 30 seconds ago, is now your only life line out of this collapsing heap of slime and unholy flesh. 

 With two strong hands wrapped around your wrist, you flinch at the pure strength behind the hold he has on you. One pull is all he needs to free you from that prison, the slime and mucus from your slowly collapsing enemy still clinging to your shirt and any exposed skin it touched, but it seemed like the worst was over. 

With a shaky and hesitant first step, you pull your foot from the ever growing glob of slime on the floor, kicking your leg to try and get any left over strands of it off of you before doing the same to the other. Wincing as you plant your right leg, you hiss in discomfort as you shift your weight. In the madness of everything, you’d actually forgotten about the heel injury you sustained while kicking in the man’s door earlier. 

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, your shoulders shaking and your chest heaving as your mind swirls. In the chaos you hadn’t had time to think or question Dante on everything that was going on, you’d simply had enough time to act and react. No thoughts. Just pure survivalist instinct…But despite your indefatigable efforts to maintain some sliver of independence, here you are still clinging to Dante’s arm as he overlooks your attacker. 

A firm hand on your shoulder gently forces you behind him as he steps forward, your hand — for some reason— instinctively reaches out towards his back, but you parish the thought of grabbing hold of him and recoil your hand. Leaning to the side to look around, you’re met with a ghastly sight to your eyes as Dante leans down and pokes the slowly dissolving carcass with his bare hand.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance and wiping his now slimed finger on an already dirted patch of fabric that was ripped off some random upholstered fixture in his home, Dante stands and rests his hand on his hip as he looks over his shoulder. His seemingly softer eyes landing back on your still very slimed—and rather unappealing in this moment—modèle.  

“You good?” 

Whatever care or worry he might’ve been trying to convey is swiftly undercut by the grin on his face and the snicker threatening to slip from his lips at any moment. Before that instance, you might’ve forgotten that the tall muscular man you’d just been rescued by was the very reason you were in that hellish scenario to begin with. The charming and mischievous glint in his eyes nearly chases away pang of rang deep within you…Nearly.

“You absolute jackass!” Ignoring the pain that radiates from your heel, you lunge forward and punch him square in the chest, your balled fist connecting with toned muscles as you seethe. 

He tanks the hit, only offering up a low grunt in response as he watches your almost pathetic display. You’ve seen him fight before now, you know very well what he’s capable of, and you know you’re only doing this because he’s letting you. 

“I can’t believe you! Of all the shitty, low-down, rotten fucking things!” WIth each line comes another rough smack to his chest. After a few more, he’s decided you’ve had your fun and grabs your wrist in his hand again, stopping your blow before it can connect. 

“Alright, alright…You’ve made your point…”

“Oh, have I now?!” Your incensed tone highlighted by your furrowed brow and your pursed lips. 

“Yeah, you have! I didn’t mean to use you as bait but it just sorta worked out that way! I just needed you to drop off some gear for the morning! I was supposed to go deal with this thing then but it sorta found its way to me instead.” In his exposition, Dante drops your hand from his hold and feigns an annoyed glare your way. 

With your arms crossed over your chest, your shoulders shake as you let out a gruff huff that intentionally puffed out your cheeks, a few stringy remnants of the slime still slicked onto your face, but you’re currently none the wiser. Favoring your right foot, you shift your weight to the front of that foot to try and take some of the pressure off your heel. 

“Atleast you admit that you used me as bait…But you’re fucking paying for all the ammo you used tonight, you ass!” 

His gaze fixed to the odd movement of your foot, your typical stance completely out the window as you shifted where you stood, though that could just be due to the whirlwind that was your entrance. 

Typically he would’ve just opened the door to you, you walk in, complain that it’s messier than the last time you were here, drop off the stuff he asked for, and then leave without making him pay the full price. But that’s not what happened here, not by a longshot. So he tries to brush your more casual body language off. 

Wait-did you say pay?! For all that?! No way! Nuh-uh. 

“Huh? Woah woah woah, slow your roll there! I didn’t even ask you to bring that stuff!”

“Oh you fucking lying cheapskate!” You grumble to yourself as you pull out your phone, ignoring the newly formed cracks in the screen as you tap your way through your messages. Holding the device up to his face, he flinches from the sheer brightness of your screen before he looks at it, a new scowl spreading across his features. 

There in plain letters is him saying that he needs a restock before daybreak the next morning, well now it’s this morning, but you get the point! Clearly, he told you to bring a restock kit over and that’s how all this started! At least, your involvement in it that is.

“Boom! Pay up! I’m sick of you stiffing me all the time, man! I do have bills to pay!”  

He pushes the phone in your hands further away, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he thinks. He was hoping you’d just accept another IOU or maybe even let him off the hook like last time…Wait…Last time! 

Rolling his shoulders back, Dante straightens his posture as he looks down at your small frame, your foot tapping in annoyance and your lips formed into a near pout as you glare at him. A soft grin slowly creeps onto his face as he leans down, just enough to remove some of the distance between the two of you. 

“About that…”

Before he can muster another word you’ve got the palm of your hand against his face and force him to look to the side. He got lucky last time! That’s not happening again. No flirting or any other nonsense is gonna keep you from the money he owes you. There’s no way in hell you’re leaving his place and going home empty handed, not after all the BS you put up with tonight. No way. 

“Can it! Look, I’m not leaving here without you paying me at least some of the money you owe me! You’ve got a damn tab, Dante! A TAB! Do you know any other weapons dealer that’s gonna let someone run up a tab!?” 

A low grumble can just barely be heard but that’s not what pulls your attention to him. Nope, it's the fact that when you tried to pull your hand away you couldn’t. A clump of that slime still clinging to your hand and keeps the contact between the two of you. 

“Oh gross!!” You roughly tug your hand back, Dante recoiling and lifting himself back to his full height. 

“Fuck! That hurt!” He all but pouts as he rubs the side of his face, the smallest red mark forming from the abrasion.

“Well it serves you right! This is all your fault! Oh god…this is so disgusting…My whole arm is covered in it!” 

You’d finally noticed the drenched state your left arm is in, the now yellowing slime coating the sleeve of your jacket. It’s so bad that you can even feel the refuse on the side of your neck, and with a cautious hand you reach up to gingerly touch the side of your face…where even more of that gunk is still clinging to your skin. 

“Took ya long enough…”

“You cocksucker! You knew and didn’t tell me?!” 

Another solid punch to his chest leaves him with a splattering of slime on his shirt, he’d managed to avoid such a tragedy up until this point but such is life…

“Oh come on! You had to get it on me?!” 

“Serves you right! Dragging me here in the middle of the night, making me bring more guns and ammo for you that you’ve no intention of paying for, and then to top it all off! You nearly get me eaten by a giant gross slime monster that, by the way, you still have yet to explain to me!” 

With each damning word he’d earned a jab to the chest by your finger, each harder than the last and your voice laced with venom as you speak. Every vowel dripping with hate and every consonant with spite. 

“Ok ok! Point made! Point made!” He has to step back because every time he poke his chest, you step forward, closing the gap between the pair of you. He’s not sure if it’s intentional or otherwise, but you’re doing it anyway and he’s not really in the mood for you to blame him for anything else tonight. 

“Enough with the jabbies, damn…” He rubs his chest softly as you back down, rolling your eyes at his antics because you know for a fact that didn’t hurt him. 

You go to say something else but you’re cut off by the sound of Dante’s stomach growling, your eyes only narrowing when he laughs as sheepishly as he can manage…

“Don’t you dare…” 

“What?! I didn’t even say anything!”

“Oh but you thought something! I am not, NOT, buying you another pizza! You can’t even pay me for the shit you owe me for! I’m not floating you for pizza too!” 

“Well, it wouldn’t really be you floating me if you ate it too, now would it?” 

“Wha-”

“Then it would just be you covering for tonight. And I would get it next time. Maybe…”

“I am not doing this, Dante. I’m not!” You slam your foot on the ground to try and force your point across but that was the worst idea you’ve had all night…yeah, even worse than coming over here in the first place…

The second you slam your foot into the hard surface of his living room floor, a quick yelp leaves your lips and you’re retracting your right foot from the ground. With all your weight balancing on your left leg, you can barely bend down enough to grab at your foot as you force off the boot you were wearing. Clearly you breaking Dante’s door in with that kick did way more of a number on you than you thought…

Hissing in pain, a few small tears prick in your eyes as you carefully rub your hand over the throbbing pain center. Your fingers just barely grazing your heel is enough to force another weak cry from you. You would’ve lost your balance and collided with the floor or that knocked over table, but before you could falter you feel an arm wrap around your waist to support you. 

If the strong arm around your back and the firm hand planted on your hip weren’t enough to turn your cheeks rosie, the way Dante has his head bent down to look towards your ankle will definitely do the trick. He’s wrapped himself around your left side, his hand grabbing onto your right hip like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

With his head dipped down to try and get a better look, your faces aren’t that far apart anymore. You can see the bags under his blue eyes, the bits of soot and dirt speckling his otherwise pristine white hair, but the most heart throbbing of all is how his lips are just barely parted, a small cut across the corner of his mouth as he look over your wound. 

“Da-Dante?” 

You don’t even realize you're speaking, let alone saying his name in a honestly pathetic voice, until he turns to face you. You must’ve been closer than he thought —or you subconsciously leaned in more—because when he turns to you his nose brushes against yours roughly. 

The blush of your cheeks deepen and you swear you can feel the tips of your ears get hotter, he smells like gunpowder and cheap liquor but somehow that’s the most exhilarating scent combination to you. 

You both pull away as much as you can. You quickly throw your head to the opposite side and he straightens his posture out again, clearing his throat as he brushes off the unintended close contact. 

Dante silently tugs you over to where the couch currently resides and gently, or as gently as he can, drops you down. You thud against the well worn piece of furniture but make no mention of his rough-ish gesture. In his haste to grab you, he’d pressed himself against the worst side of your sill slime soaked fashion ware. 

You peak over your shoulder to look in his direction as he walks away. He’s already resided to removing his coat and his now messied shirt from his body, draping the coat over a chair while tossing the shirt off into the distance, only to be remembered on the rare occasion of Dante doing laundry. 

“You’ll probably have to stay the night. Don’t think you can drive home with your foot all mangled like that.” He isn’t looking at you when he speaks. It would concern you if you’d even noticed…

Leaning into the back of the couch, you stretch out your legs and try to point your toes. No problem with the left foot, but the second you even try with the right another sharp hiss echoes from you and hits Dante’s ears. 

“G-guess Ah-fuck…Guess so…” 

Running a gloved hand through the back of his hair, he sighs as he stares at the nonexistent front door, trying to distract himself. In the excitement, after you’d kicked it open, it had gotten smashed. The split pieces of wood scattering across the floor, his boot kicking a stray piece out of the way as he looked around. 

Seeing as how you’re the one who kicked in his door, you can’t help but feel a little responsible for his new problem...Granted! It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been called over in a hurry! But at the same time, it’s not like he knew things would get that out of hand that quickly…

“With your weight now supported on the couch, you slowly peel off the slime caked jacket and simply drop it to the floor. The residual gunk still plastered on your left leg, neck and partially on your hair. You grimace and nearly gag at the memory, still in the dark about what exactly you walked into. There’s a time and a place for that sort of talk, and while it’s definitely the place, it’s not the time…Not with a mass of slime stuck to your neck and clumping in your hair….Yuck. 

“Hey, Dante…” Your voice is low and trails off at the end, almost like you're embarrassed at having to ask what you’re about to. 

From the distance alone, Dante is pretty sure you can’t see the slight blush on his face. And he’s even more confident that it’s hidden within the shadows of his home. Sure, he’s not opposed to having you stay the night at his place, he just thought it’d be a bit different than this… Maybe have a few drinks at a bar, then you come back to his place, and you both make some bad choices together…Not this whole, you show up for a business thing then get attacked by a demon that tries to eat you and you’re hurt and that’s the reason you stay…

Yeah, he envisioned this a bit differently in his head.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Trying to play it cool, he turns back to face you. He’s met with your body leaned against the side of the couch, your right leg hovering above the ground, and your face cast to the side, like you’re too embarrassed to look him dead on. He somehow hadn’t heard you get up and when he sees your struggling form, he’s already making his way back over to you. 

“I-I just wanted to ask to use your shower…I feel straight up disgusting…” Forcing a laugh, you have to remind yourself that Dante is just a client when you feel him shift your weight. He’s so strong and charming…And he’s easy on the eyes too…With that type of smile you can just see yourself getting lost in…

FUCK!

Shaking your head roughly, you struggle to force all those mushy romantic thoughts away as you lean against him. You don’t actually hear his answer but you do find yourself heading towards where you think his bathroom is. 

Wrong. 

You move past what you were almost certain was the bathroom and instead make your way into his bedroom…

Your eyes dart from the path ahead of you back up to Dante in shock, your pupils wide and your mouth suddenly dry as you enter his room. 

“D-Dante, what are you-”

“Shower is in this bathroom. One down the hall just has a toilet.” 

He doesn’t even let you finish the question, like he knew you’d ask it and already had the answer primed. Sure, he wanted you in his bedroom. But again! These were very different circumstances! 

He sits you on the bed and walks into the bathroom. Trying to amuse and distract yourself, you run your hands over the blanket and sheets and look around the room. The bedding having just been thrown back onto the bed, Dante having not bothered to make the bed this morning…or whenever it was the last time he slept in here. Despite his rather eclectic tastes, the bedroom is surprisingly bare by comparison to the rest of the dwelling. 

He’s from reappearing from the bathroom door, Dante pauses in his tracks while looking over you. In either your boredom or your exhaustion, you’ve laid yourself down at the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle over as your back and arms are stretched out onto the bed. 

Your peace is cut short a slightly fluffy towel landing on your face, jolting up in shock, you look over and see a now, mostly, naked Dante. The only clothes he’s wearing are a pair of light green colored briefs that leave little to the imagination, his white hair still slightly wet and clinging to his forehead and the side of his face as he lazily dries it with a towel. 

You would be blushing like a mad man, but there’s just something about the fact that this man infornt of you is wearing bright green briefs like it’s the most casual thing in the world! 

“Jesus fuck, Dante!” You turn your head to the side and choke out a laugh, the towel in your hands being brought up to your mouth to try and stifle any laughter that dare slip from you. 

With the towel draped over his shoulders, Dante smirks over at you as you laugh. He doesn’t care that it’s directed at him. Usually? Yeah, he might care. But not now. Not this time. Tonight was the first time he’d seen you shaken. 

The first time he’s seen you scared. 

The first time he had to be worried about you. 

So it’s nice to see you slip back into your typical you. 

The you that will yell at him over not paying for the bullets and guns you give him, the you that’ll chew him out over his unpaid bills or the piling up chores. Hell, he’s been bitched out by you over him sleeping off a hangover too long.

 Granted, when you came over it was three in the afternoon and you were supposed to be meeting him to hand over some weapons…but still. The theme of the tongue lashing was his drinking and hangover, not the blatant disregard for your time. 

All in all, he was happy to see the inklings of your true self coming back into view. 

Meanwhile, your ass is laughing so hard you start seeing stars. There’s just something about this fairly jacked, muscular dude you know, where bright green briefs while coming out of the shower. It’s just something so ridiculous that if you weren’t seeing it with your own eyes, you’d never believe it. You were expecting black or red, hell, maybe even a dark blue! Not bright green! 

Slowly turning your head to look at him, you try to get your giggles under control as he watches you with a cocked eyebrow, weight just shifted enough so that it looks like he’s trying to pose. 

“What? Like what ya see?” 

Another choked laugh leaves you while you wave your hand in front of your face, trying to shoo him away or at the very least get him to change positions. 

“I-tech-I just didn’t think you’d be wearing, like, a bright green while we were fighting that thing.”

“Well I wasn’t. Jokes on you cause I went commando during that fight!”

Another cackle leaves you while you look to with wide eyes, an expression of pure disbelief splayed across your face. 

“You did fucking not…”

“Yeee-up!” Sauntering across the bedroom, Dante has his eyes closed as he holds the towel ends over his shoulders, making sure to swing his hips just a little, tiny but more, than he would when he normally walks. Trying to see if he can pull any incriminating or guilty noises from you as he passes by. 

“You are unbelievable…” You shake your head, only just now connecting the dots. “Wait a second! Did you take a shower?!” You snap your head in his direction, your eyes landing on his back…Gaze trailing up as he’s rifling through his closet for something to wear. 

A low hmm in response is all you get though the sculpted muscles of Dante’s back is enough to keep your attention but once you realize how wrong it would be if the roles were reversed, you turn your head away before you start talking. 

“What a gentleman…Really, ya know it’s polite to let the lady go first?” You scoff and shake your head playfully, a few loose strands of hair falling in front of your face. Your hand reaches up to push it back into place only for your hand to brush against another. A strong, slightly damp, warm to the touch hand that makes you jump as you look back to your right. 

You hadn’t heard him cross the room, the sudden closeness intoxicating and the palpable tension only growing by the second. 

Dante’s bold frame leaning against the edge of his bed, his outstretched arm reaching towards you as he tucks those loose strands of hair back behind your ear. A finger just barely grazing your cheek, staying perfectly still so he can continue as you watch him wide eyed. Your breath hitching for the second time tonight, you swallow a lump in the back of your throat as you watch him carefully. 

“Dante?” 

His eyes flicker before they refocus on you, it’s like he’d been acting on pure instinct or desire the whole time. Like he’d been in a daze until the moment you broke him from that trance. Pulling his hand back, he clicks his tongue before looking away from you. He shoves two things into your hands before he fully stands back up. 

“What’re these…?” Your gaze jumps between his partially retreating form and the fabric folded, well balled, into your hands. The first is a grey tee shirt that while looks like it’d be huge on you, seems like it would fit him snuggly and the second is a part of shorts, ones you know you’ll have to pull the drawstring on but otherwise might not be too oversized on you. 

“You’d need something…for after your shower.” 

“Oh, thank-thank you, Dante. That’s sweet of you.” 

“Well it…it is sort of the least I could do. Seeing as how I did kinda offer you up as bait for that demon.” His voice nonchalant as he speaks, like he’s hoping that if he doesn’t make a big deal out of it that you won’t either at least not right off the bat. 

“De-Demon huh? That…That’s new…” Shuddering as you speak, your fingers dig into the borrowed clothing as you replay the more sinister moments of your night over in your head. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” An callous tone rips you from what’s sure to be a core memory for years. Thinking he was talking about the grip you had on his clothes, you instantly unclench your fists and drop the clothes into your lap as you look up to meet Dante’s eyes. 

“Not the fucking clothes…That…shit.” Nodding his head towards the living room, back towards where the still decaying remains of the demon lay, softly smoldering into the floor as the two of you share this moment.  

Hardly a second passes before you feel one of Dante’s hands press onto yours as he looks down at you. His body bends down just enough to gaze into your eyes before he speaks. 

“Don’t let that shit get to you like that, alright? Just…just don’t, ok?” 

“Yeah. I won’t, D…I won’t.” 

He says nothing but nods his head in a small silent display. He reaches out to you, offering his arm to help you balance as you stand before he assists you to the bathroom. His upper body still bare, you press yourself into him as you walk with your right arm gingerly wrapped around his arm. 

“So…what’re you gonna do about the door?” 

“The hall closet one might fit, just as a shitty place holder till I get a proper one.” Shrugging his shoulders as he walks you, he doesn’t miss the chance to steal a glance down at you. 

It’s not far to the bathroom, stopping just before the threshold of the door,  Dante holds his arm out further to give you a last little bit of support before he leaves you. You limp into the bathroom and before he turns around you reach out, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against his arm is enough for him to look back over his shoulder. 

The softest smile you can manage etched onto your face as Dante fully turns to look at you again. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean up and press a small kiss to his cheek before you carefully drop back down. 

Taking a hesitant step back, you give another muted smile up at him before you lean against the door as your body sways slightly with it. 

“What was that-”

“You’re sweet Dante, in your own way. When you wanna be…” 

“I’m guessing that doesn’t include when I’m using you as bait, huh?” A teasing gibe as he smirks to you, the corner of his mouth ticking upward with a fang just barely visible beyond his lips. 

A dissatisfied murmur leaves your throat as you close your eyes, your head tilted with pursed lips as you remember the whole ‘hey, eat this chick I know’ bit he pulled earlier, which truth be told, you’re not too keen to let slide that easily. 

“Yeah, that? Not your best moment. Not by a long shot, man.”

“Can’t we be even? Ya know, for the whole you kicking my door down?” 

“Ohhh. I get it. We’re keeping score now are we?” You nod your head up and down like you’re considering his point but you swiftly counter. “You know, you still technically owe me for the whole bank rolling your arsenal for the last like 3 months…” 

“Can’t we call it even for me saving your life? Call it a hero’s gratitude? A bonus if you will? Free guns and bullets if I’m using them to save a pretty girl?”

You shake your head and scoff, your eyes briefly cast down as you bite your bottom lip.

“You are unbelievable, Dante…”

Fearing he soured the mood, Dante ducks his head in a quick, almost apologetic motion, before he turns tail. He doesn’t even get two full strides away from you before you promptly abate his concerns. 

“Hey Dante” The bubbly tone and that mischievous, borderline flirtatious, uptick in your voice as you say his name makes his heart skip a beat. 

Almost too excitedly, Dante throws his head over his shoulder to look at you. His eyes darting up and down over you before landing on your face and he doesn’t miss the quick scan you give his body either. 

“My wallet’s in the duffle, second pouch to the left. Combination for the lock is 4113. Go ahead and order that pizza. We’ll want the energy for later…”

Emboldened by your words, Dante’s eyes light up and a glint of excitement shines in them. Licking his bottom lip expectantly, Dante nods in your direction before he halfway turns back to face you. 

“So, does this mean I get to…” Dante trails off but his eyes dart behind you towards his bathroom, like he’s asking for permission to join in. You quickly cut him off, your hand being held up as you force a glare at the white haired man. 

“Ah ah. Not chance in hell, Dante. Not in the shower, anyway…I wanna get clean before we-”

“Get dirty again?” 

It’s his turn to cut you off, his sharp gaze looking down at you from above as his arm rests against the door frame. His fingers curled around the upper casing, the tips of his fingers roughly rubbing against the wall as he leans forward. 

He slowly goes in for a kiss, his body bending down towards you only for his lips to be met with your finger gently pressing against them instead. 

“That depends….”

“Depends on what exactly?” 

“On how you behave.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he watches you carefully before he nods, pushing himself off the door and its frame, Dante turns his back to you once again to finally give some privacy. 

“I’ll behave then…for now.” And with that, he steps away from the door and makes his way to his closet in search of clothes for himself this time. 

You curse yourself for the low giggle that escapes but you can’t really help it. Not with those playful eyes and that damn charismatic smile he always has manages to perfectly play you with…

Once the door is closed and there's a minimal degree of separation between the two of you, you lean with your back against the door and let out a shuttered yet enthused sigh. 

“Fuck, he is so hot…” 

The second he hears the door click shut, Dante looks over his shoulder to ensure that he’s properly alone with his thoughts. 

“Tonight might not be such a waste afterall…” 

“FIRST TIME’S GOTTA BE SOFT!”

WIND BREAKER + SOFT SEX. ft. togame jo, kiryu mitsuki, hayato suo, & sakura haruka x f!reader

req 1 ﾉreq 2 ﾉ nsfw + explicit smut ﾉ contains : dry humping, praise, very mild teasing, overstim, you cum from just putting it in, size kink / big dick!togame, fingering, squirting, pet names

TOGAME JO.

“Gotta relax,” Togame coos from just above you, leaning down onto his forearms to press hot kisses against the side of your neck. “And just lemme in, yeah?”

You take in a sharp breath, embrace tightening around your boyfriend’s neck as he sinks himself deeper inside, inch by inch. Your thighs are trembling atop his shoulders as you try your hardest to just relax and let him in like he said, ignoring how your cunt feels so impossibly full— and oh- he’s only halfway in.

You always knew Togame was a big person, and that it implied he would be big there…but actually trying to take him was a completely different story. You think he might actually be splitting you in half.

“J-Jo,” your eyes clench shut as you whimper. “Big…”

“Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos softly against your sensitive skin before he’s messily kissing and licking at your neck in an attempt to distract you from the agonizing stretch. “I know. ‘S okay, doll. Doing so good for me.”

“So big…” you repeat, voice sounding just as cute as always to him, so sweet and syrupy and innocent— even when you’re practically being folded underneath him like this. His cock suddenly reaches a particularly sensitive spot inside you, and you cry out, walls instinctively clenching tightly around his length.

And you think the growl that rips out of togame is borderline carnal. “Oh, fuck,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Careful. Don’t do tha— don’t squeeze me in like that.”

“S-sorry,” you pant, arms wrapped around him tightly. You think you might be feeling dizzy, or maybe just sensitive— it feels weird. Electrifying. You can feel everything so vividly right now, and maybe it’s because you’ve never taken anything this big inside, but the way your core has balled up into such a tight and intense knot is different than usual.

“Jo…..wai—”

“Shit, doll,” he’s snarling from above you. “Not letting me in.. just a little more, ‘kay?”

The knot seems to tighten up impossibly more when he pushes a bit forward, and your eyes widen, the realization suddenly hitting you like a truck. “Wait!”

Your words come out a second too late, and he’s already pushing the last few inches inside all at once. He presses up against the spot that makes you gasp, vision clouded with white as the knot in your core abruptly snaps, head falling back as you scream.

“Whoa— whoa, you’re…? ” Togame stiffens up, eyes blown wide when your walls violently clench around him before you’re suddenly gushing, juices coating his cock and thighs in a messy layer of slick.

You’re gasping under him, chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high, and a part of him wishes he could have gone back in time and recorded that. He would’ve caught the way your face contorted at the fullness and catch how you’re looking now— eyes half lidded as you pant and tremble.

It would’ve been such a treat to save a video like that.

He’s suddenly aching, and he thinks that just sitting inside you like this wasn’t gonna be enough for him now. Togame’s looming back over you in an instant, labored breaths just above you as you peer up at him through teary eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” you start babbling. “Was just too much. Came so fast- I-”

“Haven’t even moved yet, doll,” he lulls, the amusement in his eyes obvious from the way he’s watching your lips press into a nervous line. “Too early for you to be squirting on me, don’t you think?”

The burn on your cheeks worsens, and you think you could die of embarrassment— but the excited flutter of your walls is practically shameless, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Feeling good on my dick?”

“..Good enough for another one?”

Your eyes widen, and he’s pulling out slowly until just the tip is inside before he slams back, and the noise you choke out has his cock just twitching in anticipation.

“Let me join you this time, yeah?”

KIRYU MITSUKI.

“My pretty girl,” Kiryu smiles when you perk up at the nickname. “Are you nervous?”

His voice is a soft whisper against the shell of your ear, hands steady on your hips as he guides you back and forth across his cock, your slick coating him in thick and messy layers. “Just a little bit..” you mumble, face buried deep into the crook of his neck.

You’re so wet. You were never this wet when you touched yourself, and truth be told, you didn’t know it was possible to be this soaked. The sounds of your pants and Kiryu’s deep sighs are drowned out by the lewd noises your cunt is making when you’re humping so desperately against him, face contorting each time your clit grinds against his tip.

He hasn’t even gone inside you. Not his fingers, not his cock. Nothing— and you’re aching so badly for it.

“Ah!” You gasp when his cock suddenly twitches against you, slapping against your clit before he’s pulling you right back down, moving you back and forth with a little more urgency this time.

“Ah, sorry,” Kiryu’s chuckle comes out strained, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s a little hard to control myself, I guess. You just feel so good, love. Can’t help it..”

A part of you is thankful that his lights are off. the faint glow of Kiryu’s gaming leds are just barely enough to illuminate the two of you, and it gives you the courage you need to sneak glances downwards, eyes catching the way the muscles of his arms flex as he guides your hips back and forth.

It’s only when your gaze shifts further downwards that you notice it. Tue subtle flex of his abs, and just below, his hips. Completely soaked in your slick. Were you really that wet? Your thighs are also trembling more wildly now, and you’re unsure if it’s because you’ve been hovering over him for so long or if it’s because he feels so good against you.

Another part of you thinks it’s because of nerves— his voice sending a shiver straight down your spine each time he whispers something so lewd into your ears.

“I-it’s okay,” you stutter, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “Want more, Suki.”

“Hmmm?” His hum comes out amused. “More? Can you handle more?”

He chuckles a bit when you nod without even a small trace of hesitation. “But you’re shaking so much.”

Kiryu is certain he’s fallen in love with you all over again. His gaze softens at the sight of you, watching with a smile as your shaky hands move to shyly line his cock up with your hole, thighs trembling even harder trying to keep balance without his help. It’s only a few seconds later when you’re letting out a distracted whine, pleading eyes coming to lock with his. “Suki..”

“I know. Leave everything to me, angel,” he says with a soft smile, grunting when he adjusts his position on his mattress, hands coming to steady your hips.

“Let me know if it's too much, okay?”

HAYATO SUO.

“Mmm,” Suo lets out a slow hum from beside you, chin rested gently atop your shoulder and his eyes fixated on the way his fingers are moving in and out of your dripping cunt. “I don’t think you’re quiet ready yet.”

Your eyebrows furrow— not ready? This had to be the third, or maybe even the fourth. You’ve lost count of the exact number of orgasms he’s pulled from you tonight with just his fingers, but you’re certain it was more than enough to prep you.

“No….” your protest comes out strained, voice weak and weary, but your cunt seems to be the opposite— still greedy, still eagerly swallowing his fingers whole and sucking him right back inside each time he’s trying to pull them back. You’re gushing with every curl of his fingers, slick lewdly dripping onto your mattress to form a puddle right beneath the two of you.

“Please….need you— need you so bad,” you babble, unsure if your words are coming out coherent with how hot your head feels. “Please, please, please.”

His lips tug into a gentle smile, eyes softening at your current state. “..And what is it that you need?”

He’s feigning innocence, but he swears he’s not being mean to you. He would never, not when you’re asking him so sweetly, crystalline tears collecting along your lashes from the overstimulation— but he knows the extent of your greed. fingers aren’t enough for you.

“Y-you. Need you.”

The soft chuckle that leaves his lips has your cheeks filling with heat, but you don’t get to wallow in embarrassment— not when you’re gasping loudly as soon as he’s pressing against your ass, heavy cock rubbing against you. He feels so big against you, and you think your senses have been heightened from how clearly you can feel each and every vein on his cock drag along your skin.

“This?” he asks. “You can have it. I’m yours, after all.”

You’re quick to shake your head, looking almost too innocent for someone who’s making such a mess on your sheets just for some dick— and he hasn’t even stuffed you full yet.

“No— not like that. Need it inside..” you whisper, voice trailing off into a needy and frustrated whine.

“Oh? You meant inside?”

You ignore the way your cheeks burn at the suggestion, head nodding desperately. He’s humming when his hands come to delicately circle at your clit, cock slick with your juices when he finally prods at your hole. It’s slow and steady when he pushes inside, forcing himself deeper and deeper as your eyes widen, strained moan ripping from your throat at the stretch.

“You should have specified, love,” he coos, but his voice comes out a little breathless from the way you’re squeezing him. It takes everything in him to go slow for you— inch inside until his cock is finally nestling against your cervix, and oh- you’ve never felt so stuffed.

“You okay?” Suo exhales shakily, hands subconsciously tightening their grip around your hips.

You’re barely able to choke out a “w-wait,” tired eyes narrowing and blinking to rid of the dizzying stars dotting your vision. “‘M not sure.”

Suo’s lips are back on your neck the next second, planting a wet trail of kisses up the skin as you shiver beneath his hold. “You can handle me, pretty girl. I know you can. I’m already inside, aren’t I?”

Your walls flutter eagerly against him at the sound of his voice just beside your ear, and you nod, mumbling something about how you wanna try, and that he feels so good— you just aren’t sure you can take it.

“Sure you can. And you know exactly what to say if it’s too much, don’t you? My sweet girl.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

Sakura’s hands roughly slam beside your head, face contorting to a grimace as he inches inside, your walls sucking him up with desperation. His face is red with heat, jaw clenched so hard that he thinks he can hear the way his teeth are grinding against each other— but you just feel so good. He’s drunk on the feeling, and he hasn’t even gone all the way in yet.

“Ah—!” You gasp when his hips stutter against you, the rest of his length slamming inside as he chokes out a strained groan.

He never would have guessed that he’d be buried in your cunt by the end of today. It started off as a sweet movie date, with you cuddled against his side as you shared snacks. He doesn’t quite remember how that led to such a heated make out session, or how the two of you starting marking each other up— lips attached to the other’s neck, or even how that led to desperately grinding against each other … and now he’s sinking his cock into you.

“S-shit, sorry,” he sputters, hands balling into fists as he forces himself to keep still. His cock twitches once, twice, so eager and desperate for more of you— but he holds himself back. He would never ever dream of hurting you.

“Did that hurt..?”

You shake your head.

“Need you, Haru,” you whine, and your arms reach to wrap around his neck, pulling him flush against you— but you accidentally pull him deeper inside, both pairs of eyes widening when his cock roughly shoves against the deepest spot inside you.

“Fuck—” his voice is just above a growl. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“But I want all of y-you,” your voice is so sweet, so soft, and it’s a challenge for him for hold back the knot threatening to snap in his core. You feel so damn good, so fucking good— he just can’t handle it.

“No,” he protests, lips parted in heavy pants. “Don’t know if i can hold myself back if you act like that.”

★☆«“First Time”»☆★

★Mitsuri Kanroji x Obanai Iguro x Virgin fem!Reader★

Synopsis★Obanai and Mitsuri are absolutely smitten with you. Of course they’d love to take your relationship to the next level and make you theirs★

Includes★Threesomses, Cunnilingus, fingering, sloppy sex, missionary, vaginal penetration, deep throating, tip sucking, neck kissing★

★W.C★4.6K

Being a Hashira took a lot. Brains, strength, determination. All traits that a chosen hashira must possess to have a hope of surviving the japanese nights. 

You had all of these things. A smart and capable young woman you were, you rose the ranks fast. It left everyone shocked. It was rare for a new Hashira to be appointed. Especially one as sweet and shy as you. You were strong, no doubt. The evidence was all in your accomplishments. Starting at the bottom and working your way to the top in only two years, inventing your breathing style developed from water breathing on the way. 

All your hard work had paid off, which is what landed you where you were. Standing with people you have looked up to for years as not only the first ice hashira but a colleague of theirs. 

The hashira were friendly to you, and even if they weren’t the nicest they didn’t give you too hard of a time. But for the most part, everyone was kind to you. Especially two in particular.

You had known that Mitsuri was a bubbly person before you had met her so it wasn't a surprise to you when she clung to your side the first time you officially met. Pressing close to you and showering you with compliments. 

The love Hashira's boyfriend was the same way with you. Obanai was equally if not more clingy with you as Mitsuri was. His behavior surprised everyone, especially you. You had heard so many rumors about how it wasn’t typical of him to show kindness to people, especially new people. But you welcomed the kindness from both of them. Enjoyed the way they showered you with gifts and money for seemingly no reason at all. And loved how sweet they were.

It took you a while before you realized why they were so friendly with you, they wanted a third. They confessed to you one night when they took you out to a nice dinner and got you dressed up all pretty for them. They had drowned you in accessories, gold earrings, floral headpieces. You would have to be crazy to say no. So that night you went home with a kiss on the cheek from each hashira, and a handful of gift boxes that were sure to never stop.

Life with them was a dream, sure it was scary sometimes. There were times all of you were afraid. When you would go out to slay demons there was always a fear one of you wouldn’t come back. 

But the good times outweigh the bad. The times they would smile at you when you made dinner when they got home late, enjoying meals and deep conversations. The times the three of you would train together, pushing each other to your limits and laughing about it afterwards. 

And times much like this, when they had you pressed against the futon, both of their soft, warm hands gripping all over you. Obanai had his lips pressed against yours in a sloppy kiss. The feeling of his tongue slipping into a tangle with your tongue makes your legs quiver. Your girlfriend had her hands glued to your tit, finger flicking and teasing at your nipples, pebbled from the constant stimulation. She sucked pretty purple marks along your neck that were sure to get worse in the morning.

While Mitsuri’s hands were busy, Obanais free hands started groping over you, he slid down to play with the band of your underwear hidden below your silk robe. 

You shivered at the touch, your hand quickly came to grab at Obanai’s when he attempted to slip under the fabric clad against your cunt. “W-wait,” you said breathlessly.

Obanai’s hand immediately halted. This was usual when the three of you got like this. You would always stop it when it got this far. They never pressured you into anything, they were just curious as to why this was the point you stopped at. You had already assured him you wanted to have sex with them, they just never understood what the hold-up was.

Your boyfriend pressed an apology kiss to your lips, “Sorry doll, I got carried away. ” he said, hand sliding back up your body to gently stroke across your abdomen, gaze sliding down to watch the way your muscles fluttered at the light touch. 

"It's okay, I-I just”, Mitsuri sat up at your own words, her full tits practically spilling out of her robe as she took the chance to look at you. “Just what sweetheart? Tell us.” she spoke, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

It feels impossible to keep ahold of her gaze as your cheeks flush, eyes glancing away from hers. Obanai tuts at this, “Don’t be shy doll, you can tell us anything and everything.” he says.

You sigh as silence washes over the three of you. Your lovers don’t rush you to speak, they wait patiently until you’re ready to continue. “...I’ve never done this before.” you said, feeling your heart thump a little faster in your chest. 

“Done what?” Mitsuri questions, “Had sex?” She asks.

You silently nod, embarrassed by the truth. To your horror, Mitsuri and Obanai give each other a look before chuckling. “Please don’t laugh at me,” you said. As a frown took shape. The two immediately stopped laughing, each placing a comforting hand on your body. 

“Sweetheart we would never laugh at you, it was just funny that you were embarrassed. Did you think you being a virgin would scare us off?” Mitsuri asks after assuring you. 

The sigh you let out was one of relief at your girlfriend's reassurance, “Yes, I-I thought it would make you all see me as if I was immature, when in reality. There just…. Isn’t enough time for sex when you’re constantly working to get to hashira status.” you say.

“That’s perfectly fine.” Mitsuri assures, Obanai then chimes in, “After all, we have plenty of time right now.” 

 “We can make good use of it.”

“You guys want to have sex?” you ask, eyes wide as you feel a tingling sensation between your legs, the same feeling you always get when they kiss and touch all over you.

You close your eyes as Mitsuri leans down and presses kisses on your lips, sloppily trailing kisses down your neck, “Just say the word Y/n, say the word and we’ll make you feel so good.” she muttered between kisses. 

Obanai grabs your chin and your eyes shoot open as he makes you look at him. “C’mon doll, let us give it to you, make that little cunt feel good, what do you say, hmm?”

You nod and are immediately overwhelmed with the sensations of their hands all over you again. Mitsuri’s tongue suckled around your tits, while your boyfriend was kissing you so rough you could barely keep up. His strong hands somehow trail gently down your body, toying with your panties again before running a finger along your covered slit. Your body jumps and your boyfriend presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Relax doll.” he says, backing off from the kiss as he continues his feather-light touches, it felt like so much more to you. Gentle strokes turned into defined circles around your sensitive clit. Still a gentle feeling, but overwhelming at the same time. 

“Oooh, why d-does it feel like that” you moan, hips slowly grinding up into the pleasure you were receiving.

“Like what Mama? Is it too much?” Mitsuri asked, cupping your cheek so you would look at her. 

You nod at her question, “It’s a lot but I-I like it. Feels good, really fuckin good. ” You moan surprising your lovers, it was rare for you to curse. “Am I supposed to feel. . wet down there?” you ask.

Mitsuri nods, “It’s natural baby, which means Obanai’s making you feel just right”

“Can you take my panties off? They feel sticky now.” you ask sheepishly. Obanai pulls his hands up as Mitsuri slides the fabric down your legs and throws them across the room. Your girlfriend crawls off your body and sits on her knees right in front of you. 

She gasps and you get a little shy, closing your legs to cover yourself. Mitsuri shakes her head, pushing them open. “Don’t hide such a pretty thing from me sweetheart. Obanai look how pretty our baby’s pussy is.” she said, pulling Obanai to stare. You blush as they stare at you, hands spreading your cunt to get a pretty look at you.

“She’s so pretty, wet too.” Obanai stares in awe. You watch as your lover spreads your legs wider, leaning in closer. Mitsuri can’t help but lightly drag her tongue through your folds and you whimper, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Obanai’s tongue soon follows, stroking through your slit to get a taste of the wetness leaking from your sopping cunt.

Your moans grow louder and louder as they both start to make out with your pussy, taking turns sucking on your clit and fucking their tongues into you. It made your toes curl and your cunt clench, you hadn’t felt like this ever before. 

But nothing made you wetter than seeing the two of them end up kissing each other. Tongues tangling together as they made out with each other right in front of your cunt. They sat up, giving you the delicious view of the tent in Obanai’s pants and the wet spot staining Mitsuri’s panties. They were so incredibly sexy. 

An experimental hand trailed down your body as you gently rubbed where Obanai had touched you earlier. You shivered as you circled the spot your boyfriend had earlier, eyes watching as Mitsuri’s hands reached into Obanai’s pants, pulling his fat cock out and stroking it with expertise you were sure to never have. 

You fastened your pace as she jerked him off, loving the sight of precum leaking out the tip and down her pretty hands. When they glanced back at you, seeing their pretty girl playing with her pussy, they drew their attention back to you. 

Mitsuri’s lips press one last kiss To obanai’s before she leans down and grabs the hand you’d been touching yourself with, her other arm never stopping her tugs on Obanai’s cock. She slowly sucked your digits soaked with your juices in her mouth, making your clit twitch from how arousing the situation was. 

She let your fingers go with a lewd pop, “God you taste good sweetheart.” she sighed before moving back to Obanai to press a kiss to his tip. “Why don’t you let our girl take care of this for you, teach her a thing or two.” Mitsuri suggests. “I’ll focus on making her feel good”.

Obanai nods, enjoying Mitsuri’s idea. He pressed occasional kisses on your stomach, moving up your body until he was straddling your neck. He gently slapped his cock against your cheek and you moaned at the heavy weight of it.

“Open up pretty girl.” he says and you eye him wearily. But when his soft hands grasp your chin you open up. Obanai slips the tip of his cock in your mouth and you try to mimic what you think Mitisuri would do. Sucking on it. You suppose your choice was right as your boyfriend threw his head back with a groan.

As you suckle on your boyfriend's swollen tip. Your girlfriend has settled between her legs. Nimble fingers toying with your slit. Just dragging them through, playing with you like she would a toy. 

You moan around Obanai's cock, the sound sending a fat glob of pre cum rolling down your throat. He grabs the back of your head, hands pushing himself farther down on it. You swore you were choking, it was just so thick. 

Your girlfriend marveled at your pretty little cunt, juices just oozing out of you. Mitsuri finally leans forward and flicks her tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your legs twitch, and your thighs would be sure to close if it wasn’t for the love Hashira’s strong hands spreading you apart perfectly. 

Mitsuri was nastily skilled with her tongue. Quick and nimble movements were sure to be the death of you. She was practically making out with your slit, her tongue sliding into every crevice of your pussy. You could barely keep up, the only thing grounding you from the pleasure was Obanai’s meaty thighs, which you had a death grip on. 

Your long nails left red streaks along the skin as his cock stuffed your mouth full. Tiny tears creased the corner of your eyes as you tried your best to take him down your throat. Gagging as he moved you through the motions. 

Back and forth back and forth, back and forth. 

Until your chin was a slobbery mess. But you weren't the only one. Mitsuri's face was soaked, spit and slick covering her face as she ate you out. Her nose nudged your clothes as she forced her tongue as deep into you as she could manage. And it was toe-curlingly good. 

Obanai peered down at you, smiling at the fucked outlook in your eyes. He tapped your cheek, “You still with me baby?”

You nod your head, eyes focusing on the pretty sight above you. He was just as handsome as always. Cheeks flushed, panting as his hips thrust down your throat. 

If he didn't know you were too sweet to ever not be honest, he would call you a filthy liar. You were a natural. Sucking his dick deep, tongue licking underneath the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. 

It was taking everything in him not to blow his load right now. 

His head turned to look at Mitsuri, calling to her over his shoulder, “Think she's ready for me?” He asks. 

“Hmm,” Mitsuri ponders, pulling away from your needy clit. You were pretty soaked, but she had barely prepped your hole yet.

A slim finger slides into you with ease, and when it curls your whole slit twitches. 

“Oooh, she's a tight little thing” Mitsuri chuckles as she starts to thrust her finger in you, keeping its curve. Your mouth went slack around your boyfriend's cock at the feeling. It had your mind going blank. 

Every time your girlfriend's finger pulled out of you, the pad of her finger dragged deliciously over a spot inside you that drove you crazy. 

Obanai couldn't hold himself back anymore when Mitsuri's tongue joined in the mix. The muscle mashing against your clit, the nasty noises running straight from his ears down to his cock. 

He grabbed your hair without thinking, forcing you all the way down on his shaft as he came.

You could barely keep up with what was happening, just. Swallowing the thick liquid he gave you no choice but to taste. 

When he pulled out of your mouth, the heavy weight of his cock pressing into your cheek you could finally moan freely. 

And fuck you were loud. But your noise was warranted. After all, Mitsuri slid another finger deep into your pretty pussy. 

She must've wanted to kill you, that's the only reason you could find to explain the mean way her lips were latched on your clit. It was so harsh, the Inescap pleasure driving you the same. 

The hands-on Obanai’s thighs gripped onto him for dear life as you squeezed your eyes tight. 

He had seen it countless times when he had gone down on Mitsuri. 

“Open your eyes doll, let me see how pretty you look when you cum.” he says. 

It was all just so much. You wail loudly as you feel pleasure building up in your gut. Different than what to have been feeling so far. It felt like you were tumbling down a hill, pleasure building up and up and up until… you finally came. 

Your whole body froze up and you swore your vision went pure white. Your back arches up into Mitsuri's Mouth until the pleasure hits you. 

The thick of your thighs closed around Mitsuri's face, legs shaking terribly as your toes curled in. But your girlfriend, ever stubborn, didn't let you stop her from prolonging your orgasm. Her licks were gentle, just. Prodding at your clit. She pulled her fingers from your country, focusing on working through it with your tongue. 

Obanai had his eyes glued to yours the entire time, a dark look in his eyes. 

It felt like forever had passed before Obanai crawled off of you, gently pushing at Mitsuri's head, doing what your tired arms failed to do. Reluctantly, the girl pulled away, a pout on her shiny lips that was quickly kissed away by l. 

Just like that, the two were all over each other again, kissing, tongues down each other throats. Obanai loved kissing his girl, but there was something about the taste of her mouth that was driving him crazy. 

Your eyes trailed down their bodies, Obanai, already naked and hard again, his cock twitching every which way, desperate for a hole to find refuge in. 

Mitsuri’s hands desperately took hold of her robe, pulling the fabric off. You moaned as her soft body was exposed.

Heading that, she pulls away from Obanai, leaving him chasing her lips. She crawls next to you and you think you're gonna die. She's so sexy, an absolute wonder of a woman. Thick hips, huge tits with a cute face. Sometimes you wonder what you did to get so lucky. 

You sit up weakly on your elbows, smiling up at her. Obanai’s hands reach for his cock as he watches Mitsuri grab your cheek and kiss you. Her tongue immediately takes control of yours. You moan into the kiss, the feeling of love Hashira’s tits pressed against your side sending your brain into overdrive. 

You almost don't register Obanai moving between your legs until you feel his dick prodding at your clit. You pull away from Mitsuri's kiss with a moan. It felt different than before like every little touch to your clit was overwhelming. 

Obanai smiled, tapping his too to your clit a few times just to hear you whine. “You think you can take me baby?” he asks you. He sees the wide look in your eyes and he knows you're nervous. After all, you could barely fit two of Mitsur's fingers. And now you were moving on to seven girthy inches of cock. Your boyfriend was not a small man. 

He places a comforting hand on your stomach, “you don't have to if you don't want to baby” he reminds you. 

You nod your head, you know but, “I want to” you express, “but how is it supposed to fit… inside”*you say. 

Mitsuri pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder, “he's gonna go slow mama, give you time for that pretty pussy to adjust, okay?” She tells you and you cling to the calmness the words bring you. 

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly and Obanai can't help but lean forward and press a kiss on your pretty lips. 

“Only a baby,” he says honestly, then it'll feel good, just as good as earlier, he tells you. And you nos, nervously biting at your bottom lip. 

“O-okay, m'ready”* you say and Obanai crawls back, positioning your legs wide for him.

Mitsuri’s soft hands come to caress your tits, rolling your nipple around to distract you. Her lips pressed kisses to your throat, as you moaned. 

The distraction worked until you didn't, when you felt Obanai position himself at your entrance, pushing his cock in as slow as he could. 

You let out a pained wince as his head slipped in, letting out an uncomfortable sigh. Mitsuri's quick to shush you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “It's okay baby girl.” she tells you. 

Obanai watches your face as he pushes farther in. His heart aches at every pained whimper, grateful that Mitsuri was comforting you 

“It's almost in Mama, good job,” she tells you, and you moan when you feel Obanai's pelvis flush against you. It was a weird feeling. Almost uncomfortable but not as bad as it was at first.

You only grow louder when Obanai leans forward to kiss your lips, his cock shuffling inside you. “I knew you could take it, proud of you baby.” he tells you. 

The pain is bad at first when he pulls out of you and pushes back in. It hurts no matter how gentle he tries to be. But the pain turns into stinging. That stinging starts to make your back arch. And soon he's thrusting into you with no resistance. His thrusts feel as good as Mitsuri's fingers curling inside you. 

It was such a new feeling. Having something so thick and big inside you. It was weird, but it felt good, really good. 

“F-fuck” you curse under your breath, lidded eyes staring at the man stuffing you with his cock. You were a mess, body sweaty, hair disheveled. 

Not that Obanai was any better. He didn't know someone could be this tight. You had to be doing this on purpose, pussy trying to milk him for all he's worth. And it was taking an embarrassing amount of effort not to let go right now. 

Mitsuri was smiling, watching you make Obanai's dick disappear. It was such a pretty sight, hearing the sounds your pussy made. 

The pleasure was intense and you turned to Mitsuri, grasping her arm to ground yourself. 

“How's it feel mama, you like it?”Mitsuri asks you, a gentle hand caressing your torso. 

You nod your head, “I-I like it. ” you tell her, biting your lip and Mitsuri smiles as she leans in to kiss your pretty lips. She always takes your breath away when she kisses you. Conveying everything she feels for you with a battle of your tongues. 

Obanai draped one of your legs over his shoulder and you were keen as his cock seemed to plow deeper into you. 

Mitsuri pulls away with a smile, watching you try and take your boyfriend's cock, “it's deep, isn't it baby?”

You nod your head, looking over at her with the most adorable look on your face. Eyes laced with need and hazed with pleasure. “I-its so deep” you stutter out. 

Obanai smirks at that and Mitsuri catches it, rolling her eyes at him with a giggle. 

Her hands trail down your stomach, pressing down right over where Obanai was inside you,” yeah, you feel him right here mama?” She asks and you can barely respond. The pressure on your stomach makes your legs quake a little. 

Obanai's hips only fasten their pace and you swear every time his fat tip slams against that perfect spot inside you you're gonna die.

Your boyfriend above you is lost in pleasure, low groans of your name tumbling from his lips as he pounds your pussy. Pressing kisses up your ankle, sucking one of your toes into his mouth. 

The feeling made you giggle, but ain't nothing funny about Mitsuri's sneaky hand trailing down your stiffened clit. 

You let out a whimper, reaching to grab Mitsuri's wrist. But you would never be stronger than her, not in a million years. You swore the laughter she let out was evil as she swirled mean circles around your clit. 

But all Obanai saw in front of him was a pair of angels. It was such a gorgeous sight, his two girls in front of him. Blissed out together. The body's rocking with the weight of each of his thrusts. 

The hand that wasn't busy spreading your legs apart reaches to spread Mitsuri's. The girl let out a soft gasp, her hand stuttering on your clit as Obanai thumbed hers. 

Her moans were loud as her boyfriend played with practiced expertise. Fingers rubbing side to side on her slit before he presses two fingers deep into her. They slipped right in, the love hashira's pussy a soaked mess.

“Shh” he shushes both of you and you both do. Biting your lips to restrain the pillowy moans leaving your lips. 

Now with the two of you quiet, you could hear the filthy sounds of your pussy, squelching and soaked. Making the prettiest noises. Mitsuri's fingers seem to regain power as she goes back to swirling your clit between her fingers. She playfully bites at your ear, “you sound so pretty mama” she slurs in your ear. 

You turn and press a kiss to her lips, your hand moving to play with her clit. Mitsuri's tongue goes slack as pleasure shivers through her. 

The faster the two of your hands got on each other the closer the two of you got. And it wasn't long before you were squirming, feeling something different for the first time Mitsuri made you cum. 

You cling onto her with one arm, the other gripping Obanai’s flexed arm. “I-I think I'm gonna cum!”*you gasp out. 

Obanai nods, “go on baby, you can do it,” he says. 

“M'close to baby, s-so close” Mitsuri moans. As if reading each other's minds you both speed up your hands, rubbing mean circles against each other's clits. 

“Ooooh, i-i'm cumming!” you whine and you barely have time to process what's happening before pleasure hits you from the ends of your ears to the tips of your toes

Mitsuri wasn't far behind you, her creamy pussy making a mess on Obanai's hand. He curled his fingers within her, smiling as she screamed, thighs squeezing around his hand. 

His thrusts into you never ceased, it felt like you were floating. 

You were still in a daze but Mitsuri came down from her high before you. Getting the honor of seeing Obanai Iguro break. 

He was barely holding back, just trying to fuck you through it so he could cum. And at this point, he didn't care about where. In or out. But your pussy was gripping onto him for dear life. He wasn't gonna last any longer. 

“In or out doll?” Obanai gasps. 

But you could barely answer, too fucked out to think. The overstimulation was so much to take, and you couldn't squirm, not with the death grip your boyfriend had on your leg. Humping into you as he pants, waiting for your answer. 

A swift slap to your clit has your eyes wide and open in no time and the fast circles that have you moaning out a jumbled-up string of pleas. For what exactly? You weren't sure. 

“Did you hear him mama?”Mitsuri asks and you shake your head. “He asks if you want him to cum in or out of you?”

The question brings heat to your cheeks and right down to your clit. It was getting hard to focus. The constant stimulation makes another orgasm build up in you. But this one felt like it might break you. 

“W-which one do you like? ” you ask Mitsuri. 

And she smiles, “I like it when he cums inside me.”

“T-then that, inside.” you say, eyes rolling back in your head as her fingers speed up on your clit. 

Mitsuri turns to Obanai, giggling at his blushed red face. “you heard her, baby, go on fuck it deep in her.“

Obanai groans loudly as he cums, and you gasp as you feel his loud shoot into you. You cum with him, the white load painting your walls sending you over the edge. 

It takes a long time for you to come to and by then, Obanai had pulled his stick cock out of you, and Mitsuri was stroking your forehead with her clean hand. 

They each press a kiss to your cheek, marveling at how fast you had fallen asleep. Chest rising and falling peacefully. 

“She can't go to sleep, we have to clean her up. ” Mitsuri says softly. 

But Obanai shakes his head leaning to press another kiss to your forehead, “I'll run her a bath in thirty.” he says. 

“Let our pretty girl rest”

First one down, 14 more to go!!!!!!!~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024»☆★

Taglist: @nousija, @miiiturix, @kittylovecatssuff,

Dilf Deku Headcanons

Midoriya Izuku x GN!Reader

warnings: swearing, NSFW themes (nothing graphic just briefly mentioned),brief mention of bullying/scars, idk this is pretty tame nothing is really described... if u don't like dilfs then don't read this :)

a/n: okay! this is my first time writing/publishing anything on Tumblr so please go easy on me haha... I've had ridiculous Deku brain rot lately and I decided I had to jot a few thoughts down. I'm playing with the idea of turning this into a writing blog, but I am undecided! If anyone wants to thirst for one Izuku Midoriya please come talk to me please anyway without further ado here are some Dilf!Deku hcs.... I'm playing around with doing a NSFW version after this so if you would like to see that let me know!

w/c: 1,498

Okay everyone today I want to talk about Dilf!Izuku

This may be controversial but I personally believe that he has the most Dilf potential out of any of the class 1A boys and no I will not be taking criticism at this time

Sorry but even when he’s younger he has Dilf energy - he’s caring, considerate, takes your feelings into account like a dad he just wants to take care of his baby

oh fuck this man no no no

And listen, here me out on this one….. he has more dilf potential than Bakugo and allow me to tell you why

We can all agree that Bakugo has been confident his entire life, so of course he’s going to be confident when he’s older?? duh

But IZUKU is a different story altogether, he’s never felt confident in his life

His whole childhood he was looked down on for being quirkless, and bullied by someone he thought was his friend kachaan

THEN he got a quirk but oh every time he uses it it breaks all his fucking bones and leaves him with all these scars, and he appreciates them because of what they represent but also he’s young when he gets them, he’s already prone to insecurity and when he’s younger ESPECIALLY i think they just remind him of previous failures

He only started to gain a little bit of confidence in his UA days, but it takes time to rebuild yourself after you’ve been torn down for so long, so I honestly imagine he doesn’t even feel an inkling of confidence until his third year or later and even then, it’s new, it’s unfamiliar, he doesn’t totally know how to act

Because yes, by his third year, he’s starting to realize, oh wow okay, I have an incredible quirk and all these new abilities that I can control better, and wow people are paying attention for good reasons , because he’s tall and attractive, probably cuts his hair undercut Izuku supremacy and he’s made some solid friends who help boost his confidence too

But despite all this, deep down he still feels like that quirkless little kid who has to work three times as hard as anyone else and still doesn’t get the recognition he deserves

But OH BOY

DILF IZUKU??? This man is dripping with confidence

he’s older now. he’s overcome a lot. he’s gone to therapy, and worked his way through the pro hero ranks until he earned his number one spot fair and square, that’s something no one can take away from him

He’s loaded now (see below because I go on a whole tangent), he has nice tasteful style that can only come with age and experience

He knows he’s hot now, because its simply no longer something that can be denied, anyone with eyes can see how attractive he is

If he catches you staring at him, he doesn’t shy away. His cheeks might tint slightly, but he stares right back with the biggest smirk on his face. “See something you like, angel?”

Probably finds reasons to show off slightly but he’s Dilf!Izuku so it’s subtle, it’s meant just for you and god does it drive you crazy

The way he’ll reach for and grab at things when he’s around you because he knows you like his hands (he wants to hold your bags and please let him he just wants to feel needed)

They way he stands behind you while you cook, or work, or read…. He sees you sitting or standing so peacefully and he’ll come up behind you to check out what it is you’re doing. He’ll lean down slowly, quietly, stopping when his breath is on your neck and your nose is filled with his scent, and take a quick peek at whatever it is you’re working on. It takes you a moment to turn around, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest due to his looming presence behind you (I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS IS HOT TO ME IT JUST IS OKAY). When you finally turn to face him, his face breaks into a small smile of victory as his strong hand catches your jaw in a gentle grip and he places an achingly soft kiss to your lips before saying “You look so cute when you’re concentrating,”. As you’re about to go in for another, he lets you go and stands up again, his eyes twinkling. “No no, you’re working so hard baby, don’t let me distract you,” WHEN ALL HE WANTED WAS TO DISTRACT YOU and he succeeded and now you’re all hot and bothered, with no hope of resuming what you were doing

Dilf Deku is a tease I know he is but it’s okay he’ll make it up to you later ;)

He’s got shorter, slightly more cropped hair with grey mixed in with the green, his face more lean and angular… not to mention years of pro hero work have toned his body into an absolute work of art I’m gonna pass out just thinking about it

Freckles splashed across his skin like hundreds of little constellations, accented by scars and marks from old wounds (which he’s come to appreciate - they show how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get to where he is now) he’s muscular but I don’t think he’s quite as big as All Might (his fighting style is a lot different so of course he would build muscle in different places) so this means LEGS LEGS LEGS

LEG MUSCLES FOR DAYS

THICK FUCKING THIGHS oh my god

And holy shit his back muscles too WHEW sometimes in the morning when he gets up before you, you watch him sit on the edge of the bed and flex his shoulders and arms to stretch out in the hazy morning light and Jesus Christ

Dilf Deku is older now, he’s spent his entire life working himself too hard and he missed out on a lot of the fun, impulsive, chaotic things young people do, so I think he wants to let loose a little in his older age, have some fun for once

And what’s more perfect than sweet, youthful, tantalizing little you to indulge in ?

He’s so doting, just wants to make you feel special and cared for

And on that note, if you will indulge me for a moment

he’s fucking RICH like

He’s the number one pro hero, he has brand deals on brand deals on brand deals

And I don’t mean to slander All Might and Endeavor, but in terms of a hot, fuckable number one pro hero, Deku has them beat by a landslide so I imagine he has a wider range of brand deals too, because he can sell the sex appeal angle

I mean can you imagine him in interviews? Interacting with fans? Confident yes, but still soft spoken and kind, almost gentle but anyone can tell he’s completely in control, of himself, of the interview, of the audience, this man has the entire country world wrapped around his little finger

All this to say he’s DRIPPING WITH MONEY

he’s like the guy that overtips an OBSCENE amount like if the waiter is really nice he’ll tip like $300 dollars and won’t even blink (I know they don’t tip at restaurants in Japan but this is more for vibes yk)

sugar daddy deku isn’t a stretch it’s a REALITY

Y’all can be officially together or not, either way Deku loves to spoil his precious little y/n

All you have to do is smile sweetly and ask, and he’s absolute putty in your hands

Complies with even the most egregious of your demands, because hey, he has the money to spare, and how could he say no when you look so cute asking so politely?

GOOD TASTE too like he has a lot of money but he knows how to spend it 😏

Additionally he’s, ya know, him, so he’s insanely charitable and donates to charities, go fund me, personal Venmo accounts of fans that need it

if a fan has like a go fund me for some reason that catches his eye, he’s going to donate and he’s going to donate a lot (A LOT)

he doesn’t even do it for the press, he does it bc he’s a good person but my GOD the press eats it up and so do the fans

These hc’s are so self indulgent but all this to say

Dilf!Deku gets what he wants when he wants it and no one is standing in his way

So when he decides it’s you he wants? Well then it’s you he’s going to get!