Can you please do an Overhaul x reader scenario where they get into a heated argument and then the reader starts to cry and he just hugs her for the first time? Thank you!!
mod aria here! sorry for the delay. i had most of this written up before the unfortunate hiatus so the quality definitely changes throughout. i left in a dash where i picked it up, so if you’d rather not read it you have the option to.
“Hey.” It’s not the best start to a conversation, but you’re doing you, and so far it’s worked. Chisaki hasn’t killed you yet, so you suppose you can keep doing whatever comes to mind first. “We should probably talk.”
It’s such a cliche way to start a conversation. But he doesn’t seem to mind more than he normally does, because he sighs and doesn’t look up. “About what?”
“About, well,” you raise your hands and make a vague gesture around your apartment. “Um, everything. Us.”
“What is there to talk about?” A bit of annoyance creeps into his voice, but you’ve been made to ignore this topic for so long that it’s inevitable. It’s been a long time coming.
You sink further into the seat, a lengthy distance from Chisaki, just like he always likes it. He still hasn’t looked up, though you think you might prefer it that way. With a sigh, you decide to launch into the topic and rip the band-aid off.
“Do you have any plans for the future?” You wince at the tone you take up, like you’re the overachieving high school valedictorian again, uptight and so obsessed with staying the best. “I mean, I’m sure this is fifteen shades of illegal, with your…activities.”
You’ve never outright said anything about his villain duties, and you wonder how you even got here in the first place, an anesthesiologist and a villain. An overachiever, someone meant to help save lives, and someone who did the opposite.
“Does it matter? If you’re unhappy you can just leave.” He pauses. “Although, with what little you know…”
“I don’t want to be killed,” you quickly say, trying not to let panic seep into your voice, “and it’s not that I don’t like you. But I don’t think you really like me back, and…”
You don’t know how to put into words why you’re so unhappy, even though you love him and you don’t mind too much that he’s a goddamned villain of all things. But you’ve never kissed, never hugged nor slept together, or anything. Chisaki’s mysophobia is something you’ve never really had qualms with. Call it wishful thinking or idealism, but you’ve always entered relationships for the emotional connection. You want to fall in love just as much as any teenager with a desire to be loved.
“Then you should’ve thought about it before we began this.” His voice is so cold, and for once you flinch. The eggshells under your feet crunch, and at once your perfect poise breaks.
“Do you think I didn’t?” He knows far too little about every agonizing moment you spent trying to consider the legal, moral, and ethical ramifications of your relationship. “Do you think I tried to make this work for fun?” You’ve never been fond of raising your voice, but there it is, that trembling all-too-high pitch that threatens to shatter your mood.
“As opposed to?” But Chisaki has never been the type to get mad, and the calmness in his voice is unnerving to you, even as you reveal every insecurity you held deep in your chest.
“Why do I even like you?” Truly, why did you? For every consideration you held towards him, every time you wallowed in guilt and worry for fear of the consequences of your relationship being found out, he seemed completely unmoved. Completely open to the idea of being separated forever.
He didn’t reply, seeming to think it below him.
“Why do I even…” When you start crying, it’s hardly unexpected. Chisaki’s jaw tightens and he looks uncomfortable. Through your tears, you can only think, good. “How can you be unaffected by this? Every night I get in bed and wonder if I’ll wake up in a jail cell! Every day I wonder if you’ll come back at all, or if you’ll get sick of me and kill me! So why do I…”
When you continue to cry into your hands, you expect him to leave and avoid you for a week. Instead, rather awkwardly, you feel a pair of arms slowly encircle around you. Granted, he’s keeping himself a good distance away and only the tips of his fingers fully touch your back, but the physical contact is so sudden you can’t help but jolt.
“You’re impossible,” he says, but he doesn’t sound as upset as you’d think him to be. You know better than to hug him back, for fear of him quickly drawing away, and slowly your tears come to a stop. The anger and frustration slowly drains from you, like water through a fine sieve.
You can deal with this. You can deal with dating a villain. It’s a little wrong of you to think this, as someone who has been raised to follow a strict moral code, but if this is hell, you wouldn’t mind burning to ashes in his arms.
