He Might Be The Love Of My Life

he might be the love of my life

simon swore up and down he’d never want kids, he was certain he’d end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, “look at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? i’m tapped in the head, ‘ts not fair to give a kid any of that.” as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.

years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. he’s gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.

not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

( ☆ ) — SILVER LOCKET

pairing: chishiya shuntaro x gn!doctor!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, established trust

warnings: none

a/n: s1/beach setting. i really inserted myself as the reader here :sobs: i wanna comfort him so bad TT this is chishiya recognizing his obliviousness and realizing he cares for you hehe

his cold gaze followed your figure through the crowd of people. your unhurried stroll made you stand out amongst the other returning players who filed into the hotel hastily, rushing into the arms of those they lived another day to see. what caught him off guard wasn’t your ambling, but the faraway look on your face. your eyes pointed straight ahead as if there was something in front of you no one else could see. direct, but distant enough not to be confused with determination. you seemed distracted. at least, more than usual. it was as if you were completely disconnected from your surroundings.

“must’ve been a tough game.” kuina muttered through her makeshift cigarette, also taking in your strange behavior.

chishiya didn’t reply. even during particularly difficult games, you always came back surging with relief. tonight should have been no different.

kuina glanced at his furrowed brows in amusement. she chuckled. “if you’re worried, why don’t you go check on them?”

“i’m not worried,” he monotonously retaliated. “they’ll figure it out.”

and with that, the two allies parted ways. kuina took her leave to the mess of partiers near the poolside while chishiya sauntered on back to his room.

pale walls and dim lighting surrounded his path. but at the sound of a hauntingly familiar voice, his personal solace was destroyed.

was that sobbing?

chishiya wasn’t so easily fazed, this was the borderlands after all. except… it was coming from your room. the longer the cries continued, the further the chills travelled down his spine. what had him so affected by your muffled wails?

he halted his movements and listened intently from the other side. it was absolutely breathtaking to hear your carefully manufactured sanity collapse on itself. and behind a closed door no less, as to not alert others, made chishiya feel like he was now responsible for a secret. such noises heard between two people could only equate to intimacy.

and then he remembered the wall was still there.

how fascinating that one person could be aware of both at the same time the other was aware of neither.

cautiousness must have escaped you. otherwise, you would’ve picked a more secure spot to release your pent up sorrows. chishiya could only figure your tears let themselves out before you had a chance to truly process your emotions.

he was not quite sure what force pushed him to softly bang his knuckles against the door. the second he did, the sobs abruptly stopped — much to his dismay.

it wasn’t unlike chishiya to show up at your door unexpectedly, especially after a game. the knocking though, that was new. usually he would silently slither in and purposely startle you to catch you off guard.

“oh. hey, chishiya,” you greeted after opening the door.

he analyzed your appearance, taking note of the damp spots littering the cuff of your sleeve. waltzing in like he owned the place, chishiya took a seat on your bed while you opted to sit on the floor, knees huddled to your chest and your back against the wall. the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, waiting for the other to say something.

“i used to be a doctor in the real world.” you were the first to break it.

chishiya’s eyebrows raised slightly, indicating wonder, but something held his tongue from responding.

you continued despite his lack of engagement, “going into the field, i knew there were going to be times where i wouldn’t be able to save a life. no matter how much i desperately wanted to.” you paused for a moment and then opened your mouth again, “i guess i eventually got a handle over it back then. but now… i don’t know.” you let out a defeated sigh. “nothing could have prepared me for the mortality we face here. it pains me every time i witness a death that could have easily been prevented. it’s stupid, i know. i just think it’s been catching up to me recently.”

his lips formed a tight line in a sort of acknowledgment. of course you had been a doctor in your previous life. you had the intellect and the emotional capacity perfect for the job. him on the other hand…

chishiya lacked EQ, and he was aware of that. sure, he could evaluate emotions on a surface level and control his own without struggle, but beyond that his sincerity was merely a play. he could sweet-talk his way through the job, hiding his apathy behind an artificial smile. everything about being a doctor — being a human — felt mundane to him.

“i was one too.”

he noticed your face light up and something in his gut squeezed. why did he suddenly feel nervous?

“so, you understand then?”

he shook his head, blond strands heeding the pattern. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “no… i’m not sure i do.”

you looked at him with confusion and his mouth began to move against his better judgement.

“i don’t care about patients. people in general. i have no interest in their struggles.”

and instead of laughing, instead of insulting him for being insensitive, your eyes held genuine curiosity. why were you acting like this was a normal conversation? like he was a normal human being? it utterly pained him, but that innocent glint only motivated him to proceed.

“i assumed going into healthcare would help me determine if i’m capable of caring for others. but so far it’s only made me feel lost...” he trailed off and stopped himself before he could admit anything else.

your head tilted. “how so?”

chishiya internally kicked himself. even if he hadn’t said much, he didn’t meant to expose himself like that. you could practically see the aggravation radiating off of him as his jaw tensed. he swiftly stood up and avoided your gaze, dismissing the subject. “nothing. never-mind.”

and with that, he turned to leave. your eyes widened. “w-wait. wait, chishiya.” your pleads fell upon deaf ears as he began to turn the handle. “shuntaro.”

you both froze. that was the first time you had used his given name. at first, you instantly felt guilty about it, not knowing if it was appropriate to let that kind of intimacy slip. knowing him, he wouldn’t ever let it go. but you were so close to unlocking the parts of him that he normally kept hidden. you decided it was a risk you had to take.

“why…”

he cut you off, “i’m merely an imitation of human nature. a shell of a human being. it’s not worth trying to pry anything more from me.”

you rolled your eyes. “i think i can decide that for myself.” you grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the room. he was stiff but to your surprise, he gave up fighting back.

“why’d you bother to come here?”

why did he?

this seemed to be the first question chishiya encountered that truly had him stumped. no amount of IQ could solve whatever equation was being presented here. what variable was he missing?

“you’re wrong.”

you hadn’t even muttered anything about it and he was already denying you.

“what? i haven’t—”

“i know what you’re about to think. so don’t say it.”

you shut your mouth; a silent urge to get him to continue. he must’ve already been another step ahead, as he grew quiet too.

you started again, “i think you’re envious of something.”

well, that wasn’t what he had anticipated but you were right nonetheless. you took his silence as a confirmation. “sometimes i wish i could be as apathetic as you. weird, right?” you let out a halfway laugh and shook your head. “maybe it’s an asset in the healthcare world, but here, empathy is a liability. i guess we each want what we don’t have.”

you noticed chishiya frown for a split second before his face returned to a blank slate. “i’m fine.” but it seemed like he was reassuring himself more than convincing you of it.

you hummed. “your philosophy is flawed by the way.” you smirked at his quizzical expression. since when were you able to dissect him so effortlessly? “i know you believe you were only given life to prove something. about what, i don’t really know. you’re complicated, chishiya. but you’re not what you think you’re made out to be.”

chishiya stared at you like you were now some foreign entity with five heads. he scoffed. “i find selflessness pointless and kindness idiotic. i’m a hollowed out version of humanity’s worst flaws.”

you smiled. out of every action you could have taken against him, you smiled. you found his rare vulnerability endearing. but more than that, it comforted you that even people like chishiya, condescending and calculating as he was, could have moments of naïveté just like you.

“flawed, yes—”

he quietly took offense to that.

“every human is flawed. but hollow? yeah, you can be selfish and sociopathic at times. but there’s more to your character than that, you know? not everything about you has to be conventional for you to be human.”

as the moments progressed, you began to get the sense that it wasn’t his ego preventing him from realizing his faults. no, chishiya was scared to be proven wrong.

“you heard me crying. i could see a sliver of your shadow from beneath the door. you waited there for like, 5 minutes at least. i’d say sadistic, but i think that’s what you want us both to think. truth is, it’s not that simple, is it?”

“i told you to stop.”

“not explicitly. you told me i was wrong, which i know is a lie.”

his tone intensified. “what are you hoping to get out of this?”

“not me. you. why did you knock on my door?”

oh, but if he said it aloud, that would make it real. that was what scared him.

you saw the faintest twitch of his muscles relaxing. he felt safe here, in this room. safe, but all the more sullen.

when he came knocking on your door, how did he not see it sooner that it was you knocking through him?

like a silver locket, the guarded surface of his heart witnessed your desperate hand. searching, grasping for any line chishiya would throw your way. and once past the metal bars came your raised fist. your knock reverberated against his heart, echoing throughout the dark chamber.

maybe he was wrong. maybe he wasn’t the only one that felt lost. maybe you had been lost too.

yet, somewhere in that deep labyrinth, somewhere in the midst of his cold warmth, you found place buried between the crevasses.

and somewhere along the way, somewhere along the stethoscope that connected his beating heart to yours, he found you too.

© kzuromi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, translate, etc. reblogs are appreciated!

blushing sakura in every episode (◕‿◕)♡ [1/?]

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ sylus x fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage, contract marriage, fluff, crack, eventual s/mut, angst, close proximity, cuffed together trope, illegal stuff (it's sylus we're talking about), suggestive, luke and kieran try to play cupid, language, tension, enemies to friends to lovers, heavy illusions to the myth of hades and persephone, pregnancy mention, more tba...

ᥫ᭡ updates every week with shorter chapters!

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒…

lesson 1: becoming mrs. qin

lesson 2: bathtime

lesson 3: my side of the bed

lesson 4: dancing with our hands tied

lesson 5: baby shower

lesson 6: cock(crow)blocked

lesson 7: dangerous liasons

lesson 8: how to love

lesson 9: haunting me

lesson 10: a N109 welcome

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.