You were standing at the stove, yawning as you scrambled eggs that were in the sizzling pan. It was kind of early for you to be up but you couldn’t sleep so you thought you might as well get up and start your day. The small kitchen quickly filled with the smell of food and your stomach growled, impatiently waiting for your food to cook. You crossed your arms, the only thing you’re wearing being your boyfriends tshirt and it didn’t do much to keep you warm.
“Is that for me?” you heard a groggy voice behind you, turning around to see Michael standing there in just his boxers, squinting at the bright sunlight coming from the window. He stretched his arms above his head, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Not really, I expected you to still be asleep,” you said, reaching up and running your fingers through his bedhead. He looks so young when he first wakes up and you always admired it.
“You left me in there, how was I supposed to sleep?” he said, it almost coming out as a whine. Yep, he was definitely sleepy.
You chuckled, shaking your head at him and running your fingertips over his stubbly cheeks, “You need to shave.”
He rolled his eyes, leaning in and starting to kiss you all over your face knowing that you could feel all of his scruff. You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to push at his bare chest, “Stoooopp!”
“Don’t act like you don’t like it. I know it drives you crazy when I’m between your legs,” he shrugged, giving you a sleepy smile and leaving the kitchen. He called to you before he reached your shared bedroom, “You burnt your eggs!”
You groaned as you picked up the burning food from the burner, unable to stop yourself from laughing at your cheeky boyfriend.
Kaminari was an absolute cutie. You couldn’t get enough of the boy even when you started dating him.
It was you who asked him out, in front of his friends actually. Kaminari was so surprised at first, staring at you with flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and a jaw dropped to the floor. He had no idea you had a crush on him, he always thought it was one sided especially since you never responded to his flirtatious jokes.
But you liked him! And the two of you started dating.
Sometimes you wished you weren’t born with a steam quirk because whenever you grew embarrassed, your entire body would flush, and you would be sizzling like a plate of cooked beef and steam would vapor out from above your head. Kaminari loved this!
He often tried making you feel embarrass just so he can see the adorable sight. He would hold your hand unexpectedly. A kiss on the cheek here and there. His hugs, which was so tight and warm, would make you spew steam.
And the puns! Kaminari was such a jokester, sometimes he couldn’t help it. He liked to come up with jokes about your quirk. Sometimes he would hug you in the halls while you’re on your way home and say:
“Choo! Choo! Denki now boarding the ____ train!”
Gosh, and he would say it so loud too. Of course, you were blowing steam.
Even during your make out sessions at Kaminari’s house. One time, he pulled away from you, slightly out of breath, looking into your flushed face and whispered:
“Gettin’ kind of steamy in here… right?”
You didn’t hesitate to playfully shove his arm, and he chuckled and gave you a cheeky grin before pressing his lips against yours.
It wasn’t often that you got drunk, but it had been quite some time since you and your friends managed to get some time together like this. The group of you had gotten rather pleasantly tipsy when they came down to see you, and were now enjoying dancing around and giggling hysterically in the rain, most of the dreary little town, already shut for the day. You would probably wouldn’t be hearing the end of it when it came to you and your friends loud obnoxious singing, not for some time at least. There weren’t many people under fifty in this town, and complaining was practically an Olympic sport around here.
As you passed through the old park, one of them noticed the large old statue, partially hidden, just a little ways off the beaten track. No one in town quite new its origin, but it had been there as long as the town had been, and it was doing no harm where it was. Most chose to ignore the bizarre nameless statue.
One of your friends whistled appreciatively at the figure, and you all laughed, dancing and stumbling your way into the tiny clearing. Your friends started joking around, eventually convincing you to climb up onto the statues base, and give it a kiss. Drunk and enjoying being silly and carefree for once, you gave a dramatic bow and clumsily climbed up the slippery base, your friends hooting and whistling at you the whole way.
Reaching the statue, your friends cheered and teased you over your height differences, laughing as you only flipped them off. Wrapping your arms around the statues neck, you paused briefly, finally noticing how sad the statue looked up close, its face partially concealed from any other position. Something about it made your heart twinge painfully. Shaking the surprisingly sober thought off, you used your grip around its neck, to stand on the tips of your toes, kissing the slightly bent over figure directly on their cold unyielding lips.
Instantaneously, lighting struck somewhere else in the park, disturbingly close by, the following boom of thunder, loud enough to make your ears hurt. Your friends shouted and screeched in alarm, before running back onto the path, laughing loudly, headed the short distance back to your place. Unfortunately, they were all too drunk and giggly, to notice that you hadn’t followed.
Having been startled by the thunder as well, you lost your footing on the slippery base of the statue. You barely managed to fall an inch, before a powerful arm was locking around you, lifting you just enough to keep your feet off of the slick ground.
Wide eyed, you snapped your gaze back up, shocked to find yourself meeting the wonder filled gaze of what had previously been a statue. Now, they were flesh and bone, their skin and hair soft against your hold, your arms still locked around their neck. They seemed in awe of you, and in full honesty, the feeling went both ways. Their was no question that their beauty was beyond human, their now living form, radiating with power and grace, and their eyes tugging at something deep inside you.
He senses your pain, the disgusting anguish coming from you is curling around his gut and sucker punching his nervous system. You are nothing in hindsight, not even a threat to him. You keep your head down, bashful, almost too embarrassed to be serving the outpost. He catches you looking at him, he smells your wants, but there’s shame, guilt even? It’s not like the rest of anyone here when they take him in.
He’s whatever they desire. Surface gazes, something to touch themselves to or attempt to latch onto for a chance at paradise. But he’s no angel and cannot fly them away on white wings. Simple and carnal. Then there is you in your gray layers, hair bound back but a color he’s enchanted by.
You aren’t after him, but avoiding him. It’s curious, worrisome. If you weren’t in so much dire hurt then he’d enjoy your fear, feed off it even. You don’t assume you’ll be interviewed and so you don’t seek him out like he hopes to tempt you. He tires of this, he has to see what you are about, why you’re tugging these parts of himself out that he’s tried hard to forget.
Michael runs into you in the hallways not long after his search, linens in your hand. You see him, staring, jaw ticking as your tongue snaps to the roof of your mouth, licking at the moist air. You haven’t done anything and yet you want to admit to a thousand crimes. He’s intimidating you. You purchase your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing, then you step to the side.
“Hi.” Your voice is weak, backward, like it’s all you can muster.
The pain is wafting off you in waves, bringing Michael to step forward. He hasn’t sensed someone so unsure, so fucking completely lost since himself a few years ago. And it seems as if you think you belong to serve as an ironic punishment of your pain carrying over from your previous life to this one. You don’t hold confidence. Your posture is respectful but meek.
He can’t deny you anything now. Because he was denied by those that were the most hypocritical, unaware of their selfish logic. You’re pure, free to choose if you can accept help. You should be pathetic to him, someone he wants nothing to do with since you remind him of his past. But that’s the damndest of things, he sees.
One look in your honest eyes that hold promises, dreams, drive, all held back by solitude and loneliness, he needs you as much as you need someone. He wants to be the hand you reach for. He cares for Mead, he admires challenges, but you? The gentle blush dusting your cheeks, how you’re facing him, deciding to stay, like you might’ve been thinking about him too, your simplicity, it stirs a feeling in his stomach he isn’t used to.
You’ve flipped the tables on him. He could have you melting, get you going for his own pleasure, but he doesn’t want to. He’s taking you out of here. You belong with him. He’s not sure why or how he knows.
It does unnerve him. The thought of you alone, however, is one he can’t bear. Leaving you behind now? You drown in drinking his appearance in, staring at his outstretched hand. He lowers his voice in reservation for you. “You do not need to be afraid of me, Y/N.”
Doubt. You feel you’re dreaming, there’s a catch. “Mr. Langdon….”
“Please, it’s Michael.
You smile, it stretching across your beautiful mouth. He likes how your lips shape to it.
“It suits you, I think.” You say to him. And he is unashamed of the name his dead grandmother has given him.
“Will you run if I ask you to take my hand?”
“I don’t think I can right now.” You’re still holding your footing, managing to keep his gaze.
“Then I shall carry you.” Michael responds, watching your eyes light up, how you shift.
He’s pleading silently. You are drawn. You stop thinking it over and let him grasp your fingers. He pulls you close to him, not enough to make you protest, just to share his radiating warmth. “May I wrap my arms around you?”
“Please.” This time it’s you who says it, Michael battling some of your pain away. Your doubt is knocked out for a few, shock leaving her comatose.
Michael gathers you into his arms like a gift given fragile, especially for him. You’re not death, darkness, seeking to fuck, escape, kill, or take. You desire to find purpose, to settle your heartbeat sated. You want to feel like it’s okay to just be, that who you are makes sense. It brings tears to his eyes, ones he cannot hide.
The corridor is empty, he knows. You rear back, holding onto him, presenting your whisper. “Why are you crying?”
Michael is able to be just in this rare moment. He smiles at you. “Because I think I was looking for you a few years ago and now I’ve just found you.”
Toad's Cave 