#Flames of hell (Endeavor)

[dee-writes-anime]

OK IMGINE IF READER SACRIFICES HERSELF FOR BAKUGO WHEN HE DIES?!?! SO INSTEAD OF HIM ITS HER BUT SHE SOMEHOW LIVES DUE TO HER OMNIPOTENCE QUIRK?!

And their dating too!

And how people dont realise that she’s able to heal herself while she was dead for a good 10 minutes while bakugo is crying over her ‘dead’ body???

WHAAAAA IM EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU COME UP WITH THIS ONE DEE!!!!

-monty , EAT SLEEP AND DRINK!

Ten Minutes

FEATURING Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

SUMMARY How dare you jump in front of him like that. What is he supposed to do without you?

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, descriptions of death, greif, and anger, talks of battlefield settings

AUTHORS NOTE I love writing pain, maybe that makes me a sadist, maybe not. We shall never know I suppose... hope you enjoy my loves! <3

The battlefield was a corpse.

Sky cracked open like ribs, scorched and splintered with the bones of broken cities. The fragments of land—suspended only by the last gasps of Monoma’s warped portals—floated like driftwood in a sea of ruin. Smoke choked the air. Blood slicked the ground. Every breath burned.

And Tomura Shigaraki—monstrous, half-formed, and pulsing with raw hatred—stood at the center, grinning with something feral behind bloodshot eyes.

Bakugo had never felt so close to the end.

He was fast—faster than ever, lungs rattling, arms trembling from the sheer heat surging through his veins—but not fast enough. The second Shigaraki’s body twisted and launched one of his barbed, sharpened tendrils straight toward him, Bakugo knew he wasn’t going to make it.

He didn’t have time to dodge. No time to think. Just instinct. Just the air being sliced apart like paper.

And then—

You were there.

You didn’t scream.

You didn’t hesitate.

You stepped in front of him and took the hit.

The spike impaled you clean through—back to chest. Your body jerked. The force of it knocked you off your feet and straight into him. He caught you with a grunt, stumbling back, arms instinctively curling around your body, but—

You weren’t moving.

He looked down.

And his world— Collapsed.

Blood. So much of it. Your uniform was already soaked through. The exit wound bubbled with gore, your skin torn and blackened around the edges from the heat. Your mouth opened. A gurgling sound came out. Blood slid from your lips. Your eyes—half-lidded—searched for his face, unfocused.

And then they stopped moving.

You went still.

“No,” Bakugo whispered. He shook his head, once. “No—no.”

He dropped to his knees.

The rest of the world dropped with him.

“Hey,” he rasped, voice cracking. He shook your shoulders lightly. “No. Wake up. Wake the hell up. You don’t get to do this.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing hard. Shigaraki was still moving in the distance—he heard Jeanist shouting, felt a blast of heat from Endeavor's flames nearby—but it was nothing.

His whole universe had narrowed to you.

“You don’t get to leave me,” he whispered, lower now. Raw. “Not like this. Not without saying anything. Not for me.”

His hands were slick with your blood. He pressed down over the wound without thinking, not caring that his gloves were soaked. His palms trembled as he forced pressure over your chest, his vision blurring.

“You should’ve let it hit me,” he said, gritting his teeth, jaw clenched like it would break. “I should’ve been the one.”

His voice shook. “I’m the damn reason this whole war’s a mess. You were always the one who held us together—you were the light, you—fuck.”

The words choked out of him like smoke.

And still—you didn’t breathe.

Your head lolled in his arms. Your skin was already starting to cool. Your hair was matted with dust, blood, the scorched remnants of battle. His fingers curled in your collar as he bent over you, shoulders heaving in silence.

No sobs.

Just shaking.

Silent. Guttural. The kind of grief that doesn’t have sound because it lives in the marrow.

“I love you,” he whispered into your neck. “I never—I never said it enough. You knew, right? You had to know.”

Five minutes.

Six.

Time became a cruel thing.

And then—

It changed.

A shift.

Like gravity holding its breath.

He pulled back sharply. Your body glowed.

Softly. Weakly. But undeniably.

And then—

You gasped.

Your back arched violently in his arms as your chest heaved for air, blood surging like fire beneath your skin. Your mouth opened in a choked cry as your lungs dragged in oxygen. Energy shimmered along your veins—pale and gold, like stardust stitching your soul back together.

Your eyes opened.

White-hot. No pupils. No irises. Just pure power.

“…What the—what the fuck—” Bakugo's words snapped from his throat. He almost dropped you.

Your breath hitched. “Hurts,” you croaked. “Everything… hurts.”

He blinked, wide-eyed, as your wounds started closing. Not fully—your blood still ran, slow and thick—but he could see it, watch the skin knit itself back together. You were glowing. Flickering. Your Quirk—Omnipotence—was dragging you back from the edge of the grave.

“You’re—” he swallowed, voice failing. “You were gone. For ten goddamn minutes.”

“I know,” you whispered, coughing. “I counted.”

“You idiot.”

“You cryin’?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, voice catching.

And then he was pulling you in again—cradling you against his chest with every ounce of strength left in his body. His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip fierce but shaking.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he muttered into your blood-soaked collar. “You hear me? Don’t you ever do that again.”

You were trembling, but your lips tilted upward just slightly. “Only if you don’t.”

He let out a broken, strangled laugh.

“Deal, you pain-in-the-ass goddess.”

He pulled back just enough to see your eyes—still glowing, but soft now. Human again. You were here. Still with him. Still breathing.

And Bakugo Katsuki, heart-wrecked and still trembling, pressed his forehead to yours again.

“I love you,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “I love you so much it fucking hurts.”

[cherryblossom-heart]

How life ends

Sukuna x sorcerer!Reader

A/N: A little intro to a series I want to make later

“Sukuna?”

A voice called him, like a siren in the sea. The soft melody of the voice traveling through each syllable of his name, a strange sensation invading the slumber of the Disgraced One

“Ryomen Sukuna?”

The King of Curses opened his eyes. The feeling of being underwater, an spectator of whatever endeavors Yūji Itadori would get himself into as he was stuck in this flesh prison he thought he could control. The brat had found himself to be troublesome for the King of Curses, his control over his body and soul stronger than expected.

Night sky and stars where the first images that welcomed Sukuna. Where was he? Didn’t the brat went to sleep for the night? It felt as if every part of his body was turning on one by one, his skin now prickling by it’s contact with whatever he was laying on. The smell of grass and dew found it’s way to his nose, filling his lungs as he understood he was in a forest.

“Sukuna?”

That voice, there it was again.

With speed impossible to capture with a human eye, stood up. It was a woman, a sorcerer, nonetheless. He had seen her around the school where the brat and the annoying white haired prick would do their so called training. The few handful of times he had seen her she was chatting up with the fake “Strongest one.”, her head leaned back as she laughed at something he had said.

One second later he was in front of you, his eyes scanning your face. There was no fear in your eyes, in fact it seemed you were slightly annoyed at him. He was amused at your demeanor, even if it’s disrespect warranted death but what captivated him the most it was your eyes, he was sure he had seen them before, his brain itching to get an answer.

“Good, you’re awa–“

Dismantle

A swift cut to your throat and your body fell to the floor, blood spilling all your clothes. A shame, he thought, you were attractive to the eye. He turned around, not bothering to hide your lifeless body from the moon light. How foolish of you to stand up so proudly in front of him, your head high as you faced him. Sukuna began walking away, thinking of ways to enjoy his free reign he had for the moment.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

You again.

His head darted to you, back to where you had been seconds ago. It would almost seem like nothing had happened if it wasn’t for the trail of crimson that fell over your body. Your eyes that had lost their life as soon as his attack reached you and now they were full of life, once again. You brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to clean it from the grass and blood it had.

Cleave.

This should be enough, he thought to himself. A red line showed across your chest, beads of red all over it. He found you interesting, even if you lasted for one more attack. A shame to have to end your life.

This time you didn’t go down though, the gates of blood that pooled down your body stop as quickly as they come back, the exasperated look on your face still standing strong.

“Are you done?”

He moved close to you, swiftly making his way to touch your neck. One more cut will surely do the job.

Cleave

Cleave

Cleave

Each one as effective as the last one, your clothes now completely stained scarlett but you were still left standing.

Every.

Single.

Time.

He goes for your heart, palm open as he rushes to you. Even if you can’t seem to be kept put down he still has the upper hand, his strength and speed superior than yours. Sukunas palm barely grazes your skin, the wicked smile splatter over his face, when a microsecond later, you disappear.

“It’s not going to work, you idiot.”

Idiot. You dared to call him an idiot.

His fist traveled in the air, aiming for your face. You blocked him, crossed arms stopping his fist from contacting with your face. You pushed him back, your own hands now in fists. His grin intensified, the challenge in front of his eyes igniting the flame of wrath he always carried.

“You are a foolish woman if you think your little tricks will work, I’ll take your life one way or the other.”

“Well, that’s what I want.” You deadpanned.

The rush for violence was quickly replaced by confusion.

“I… what?”

“Why do you think I’m here? It’s not because of your enthralling conversation skills.”

Dismantle.

Cleave

Dismantle.

Cleave.

Dismantle.

One after the other but none of them made any progress. Perhaps if he couldn’t bring you down maybe his domain would. His finger began the so feared form, the words in the tip of his tongue. Sukuna would enjoy your death like a trophy.

“Enough!” You yelled.

Sukunas body froze, as if strings suddenly appeared behind him and pulled in the opposite direction. His jaw was stuck, midway of pronouncing the two words that would take your life. Even his tongue felt trapped, stuck in this impassive state he fought against. What kind of sorcery was this?

Your eyes shined, a white ring over the colored iris.

It couldn’t be.

He didn’t remember much about you. Truth to be told he hadn’t really pay much attention to you, your face one of many that had gone after him. Your group of sorcerers had been slayed, all of them cut in half as the King of Curses laughed at their inferiority.

Sukuna had felt your power, or at least what you called power, a measly crumble of a technique that had saved your brother’s life from his slashes. Red eyes had seen yours, the white, bright iris staring back at him. How endearing, he had thought before his hands had suffocated your life, the iris of life gone once your neck cracked.

You had taken your last breath. He had felt it.

Yet here you were.

His eyes must’ve betrayed him as a mocking smile took over your face.

“Remember me now?”

You were alive, as yourself. Not as a trapped soul in a body that didn’t belong to you as you had to inhabit the same flesh prison. You were you, the exact same you he had murdered a thousand years ago.

“Yes, it really is me. I’m a little surprised you remember me, I wasn’t very memorable back then.”

Snap

The invisible threads that held his jaw and tongue hostage broke, making him gain control of his own body again. He moved his jaw, joints tense at the uncomfortable position it had been frozen in. Your power had grown, the first time you had face him it was only strong enough to stop his hand.

“How are you doing this, wench?”

You saunter in front of him, an obnoxious smile decorating your lips. “Oof ‘wench’? A bit archaic don’t you think.”

His muscles moved on instinct, his hands beginning to pull so he could choke the life out of you, but the strings that hold him still pulled his arms further back making a groan coming out of his lips.

“Tsk, you don’t learn, don’t you? You can’t fucking move, not without me allowing it.”

“I will rip your heart out of ribcage and feed it to yourself!” He screamed, his words carried by the echo of the night.

“Anger problems much?”

Sukunas blood boiled with each word you spoke. The nonchalance that you carried when you addressed him, as if he wasn’t the King of Curses that could end the world. As if he hadn’t already sealed your fate as soon as he saw you.

“You seem to forget who I am. I have killed you once already.” Sukunas words were sharp, almost as sharp as technique.

“You didn’t do a good job at it though, didn’t you?”

You were right. Whatever was that he had done hadn’t been effective enough the last time you had face each other. Perhaps his mistake was using his hands to end your life, in his younger years he had a dramatic streak, the sound of a neck snapping in two a sweet melody for his ears.

“Either way, that’s why I’m here.”

Sukunas eyebrow cocked in interest. This was the second time you had mentioned your death to him and most surprisingly you were not pleading to stop him from killing you. You had reprimanded him for his lack of success.

“I can’t die.” You started, anger lacing every word you talked. “For a millennium I have tried everything conceivable for the human mind and beyond, and nothing seems to work.”

Your eyes locked on his again and Sukuna could’ve sworn he saw a thousand years of tiredness in them.

“I was about to give up but then you came along as a nasty pest in Itadori’s body. So I thought ‘if anyone is going to be kill someone immortal then it definitely would be the King of Curses, right?’ After all, you were able to end a whole bloodline of sorcerers, one person shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

Sukuna’s mind raced through the information you had disclosed, his lips sealed as he thought of what you were saying. You had survived for this long and. Is you were seeking him for your own doom.

You wanted to die. How pathetic.

“What makes you think you are worth of my assistance?”

“Because I’ll owe you a favor.”

Sukuna scoffed.

“I’ll bring you to the surface, take over Itadoris body for a certain amount of time.”

Now that was finally information worth his time.

“How can I be sure you will be able to even achieve that?”

“How do you think you’re here? Luck?”

You smirked at him and Sukuna couldn’t remember when was the last time he craved a sorcerer’s death more. He was going to extinguish life out of you, the deal you offered was just a mere treat for him.

He would enjoy watching the light running from your eyes once more. This time permanently.

Thank you for your support! Comments and reblogs are appreciated

[saeist]

a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...

"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.

rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair

"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding

with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him

"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours

"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"

touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home

but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment

"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.

"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.

touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach

"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening

you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.

he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin

you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home

that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little

"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.

you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.

that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–

"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech

"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.

you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.

now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord

"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.

what a tease!

"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.

touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons

“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.

your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.

"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.

"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.

moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side

[frostimochi]

second best

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan are both in love with people completely out of reach. After a seemingly innocent joke made for you and him to get together, the two of you brush it off. But as days pass, the idea seems less ridiculous. Then one night, Logan approaches you, finally agreeing to the idea--and what starts as a fake relationship soon takes an unexpected turn.

word count: 17.6k chapter count: 10/10 (finished!) author’s note: ok this is my very first time posting any media i've made on tumblr...i can't guarantee i'll do it again, but i will def be writing more on my ao3 account if you wish to see more! this is also a mix of the x-men films and x-men ‘97 for context. it's a bit rushed but i hope you all enjoy! :)

chapter 1 - what we carry

The night was tense. Clouds of smoke, smoldering debris choked the air, and the distant sound of sirens echoed through the city. It was another X-Men mission coming to an end. You crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of an abandoned building, your heart hammering in your chest as you peeked around the corner. Flames flickered in the distance, casting shadows across the deserted street.

But you weren’t alone; Logan crouched beside you, eyes sharp and focused, his senses tuned into the slightest movement in the darkness. He grunted softly, the usual gruff in his voice present, even when he whispered. "They’re circling around. We need to move."

You nodded, adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the battle that had nearly gone sideways. The mission had been simple enough on paper, but nothing ever went as planned in the field. What was supposed to be a routine infiltration turned into an all-out firefight when the enemy showed up in greater numbers than anticipated.

"Stick close," Logan added, his eyes flicking to yours for just a moment, a brief concern crossing his usually impassive face. "You good, bub?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, already feeling the dull ache in your side from where you’d taken a glancing blow. You could push through it, just like you always did. This wasn’t your first mission, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But the fatigue was beginning to weigh on you, not just from the fight, but from everything else—specifically, your own personal endeavors from a few days back.

You and Remy have gotten awfully close. Closer than you probably should have allowed. But he was still wrapped up with someone else, and that reality gnawed at you. The thought lingered as you and Logan crept forward. It wasn’t just the mission weighing on you tonight.

As the two of you moved through the shadows, working your way toward the extraction point, your thoughts only continued stranding to Remy. The way he’d effortlessly deflected attacks earlier, how his movements were always so fluid and confident. You couldn’t help but admire him, desire him. A familiar pang hit your chest, knowing the truth deep down; he only had eyes for Marie.

Just like Logan only seemed to have eyes for Jean.

The thought made you glance at Logan, who was scanning the area ahead. Even now, you knew he was thinking about her, about Jean. The woman who could never be his, no matter how much he wanted her. In the end, you were both stuck in this endless cycle of wanting someone who was just out of reach.

The extraction point wasn’t far, but just as you neared it, a gunshot cracked through the air. You flinched, instinctively ducking as Logan pushed you back against the wall, his body shielding yours.

"Stay down," he growled, his claws extending with a sharp snikt. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the threat before you could react. The sound of a struggle echoed through the alleyway as you pressed a hand to your side, wincing.

By the time you caught up, Logan had already taken care of the attacker, standing over him with a dark look in his eyes. His claws retracted as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a grimace.

"Let’s get the hell out of here," he muttered, his voice low. 

You didn’t argue, following him in silence as you both slipped into the shadows, heading for the jet. You were the last few to escape, as the night felt colder, with the exhaustion hitting you full force as the adrenaline began to fade.

. . .

Later, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit jet, silence stretched between you and Logan. The mission was over, but the weight of everything else from your physical pain, to personal life still stuck at the back of your mind. You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds.

"You alright, Y/N?" Logan’s voice broke the silence, his gaze still on you, seeing you still holding onto your side.

"Yeah," you replied, though the aching pain had gotten worse, and your thoughts still scattered. But you knew he wasn’t asking about the mission.

"Doesn’t seem like it," he remarked, a knowing edge to his tone. “You’re awfully quiet.”

You looked over at him, unsure if you wanted to brush it off or actually talk about what was on your mind. 

"I don’t know, Logan," you admitted quietly. "Everything just feels... off lately.”

His eyebrows furrowed in questioning, as you continued. You didn’t feel any reason in hiding it anymore, since there wasn't anything left you could do at this point. The fatigue didn’t help either. Processing a single thought was a different pain on its own.

“Just wishin’ Remy looked at me the same way as Rogue.” you replied in a soft-spoken whisper. 

He didn’t respond right away, just leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You’re not the only one," Logan finally said, his voice low and rough. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just also going through the motions, you know?”

He paused.

 “Jean... she’s never gonna look at me the way I want her to. Not while she’s with Scott."

"You ever get tired of it?" you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Logan looked over at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Of what?”

“Wanting someone you know you’ll never have?”

Logan let out a low, almost bitter laugh, leaning back in his seat. "More than you know. But it’s not exactly something I can just turn off, you know? Not in my nature."

"Yeah, well, easier said than done," you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "I have bad luck with these things.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that quiet intensity of his, noticing what others overlooked. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his presence grounding you, in a way that Remy’s never had.

"Luck’s overrated," Logan said finally, his voice low and steady. "We make our own way without it."

Another beat of silence passed, the air thick with everything left unsaid. But something about the quiet was comfortable now. You weren’t alone in your hurt anymore, and neither was he.

"We’re a real messed up bunch, huh?" you said, forcing a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Logan smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. A real bunch of idiots.”

You silently nodded in agreement, the heaviness in your chest finally settling. You both sat there, the weight of your unspoken heartaches still lingering in the room. It was strange how easy it was to talk to Logan about it, but you knew he understood it quite well. To want someone so badly, yet know you could never have them.

Maybe that's why, despite the exhaustion, despite the pain and confusion, you could finally let yourself close your eyes, knowing that even though you couldn’t have everything you wanted, at least you had this moment. This understanding. And maybe that was something worth holding onto. For now. 

chapter 2 - what we seek

Back at the mansion, things had settled back into a familiar routine. The mission was behind you, but it didn’t stop the heartache for Gambit slipping back in. The lingering feeling always felt like a stab in the chest, a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The truth is, it was supposed to happen. You and Remy had planned it out several nights ago: a quiet, simple evening away from the team, just the two of you. There had been moments; rare, unguarded looks from him that had felt like a promise, a hint of something more. You’d felt it, that same, exhilarating thrill that always seemed just within reach, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in the possibility of something more. But in the end, the odds never seemed to work out in your favor. He stood you up, and was later found reconnecting, rekindling his love with another woman from his past.

Rogue. Marie. 

You had nothing against her—hell, you admired her deeply, and spoke with her several times outside of missions and training. You were sure she didn’t know about what had been happening between you and Remy. You couldn’t deny they were both drawn together in a way that was undeniable, magnetic. Whatever was between you and him had been put aside. You knew it would never compare.

In the end, it was easier to keep to yourself, easier to pretend nothing had changed, but the pain of wanting something just out of reach, kept you from finding any real peace. And in those moments, you found yourself drifting, walking the halls of the X-Mansion at odd hours, going places where you knew no one else would be.

One of those nights, you stumbled to grab any kind of sustenance. The kitchen was quiet, as you poured yourself a late-night drink. A few footsteps from behind broke the chaos of thoughts bursting in your mind, and you turned to see Morph entering with their usual grin. They slid onto a stool, giving you a once-over with exaggerated curiosity.

“So... heard you and Wolverine had a heart-to-heart last night,” they said, a smirk forming.

You rolled your eyes, setting the bottle down, visually annoyed. “Does anyone around here not know everyone else’s business?”

Morph shrugged, leaning back in their seat. “Hey, it's not my fault the walls are thin.”

You let out a sigh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "And what does everyone think they know, exactly?"

Morph grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Not much... just that two lonely souls found a little solace in each other’s company after a rough mission." They paused, quivering an eyebrow. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Sometimes, Morph, you’re worse than the tabloids."

"All I'm saying," they continued, "is that sometimes we get so caught up in what we can’t have, that we miss what’s right there."

Raising an eyebrow, you took a sip of your drink. It burned through your throat as you slammed it back down on the table. You took a heavy breath before responding. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You and Logan should get together. Problem solved.” Morph crossed their arms, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Right,” you snorted, but his comment gnawed at you. “And how exactly would that solve anything?”

Morph just grinned, tilting their head thoughtfully. “Well, think about it. You two already get each other. You're both in love with people who are already taken. So why not take some of that stress off? Might as well team up and have a pity party together.” 

“Funny,” you replied dryly. “But Logan and I both know where we stand. We don’t need to complicate things further.”

Morph leaned in, their playful smirk never wavering. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re telling me you’d rather mope around with this crush on a guy who can’t even remember your name when Rogue’s in the room? That’s some next level torture.”

You shot them a glare, trying to ignore how his words cut a little too close to home. “I’m not moping. I’m just—”

“Just what?” they interrupted, leaning back with feigned innocence. “Waiting for Gambit to realize he made a mistake? Please. At this point, he probably thinks you’re just his backup plan.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Sure I do,” Morph replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got the whole tragic love story going on. It’s like a soap opera, only less exciting. So why not shake things up? You and Logan could make quite the team. Brooding heartthrob meets the queen of unrequited love? It’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen.”

They chuckled, and before you knew it, he morphed into the Wolverine himself. They adopted his brooding, eyebrow furrowing expression, capturing his essence flawlessly. “So, Y/N,” They said in a low, gravelly voice, “still hung up on Gambit? You know he’s not exactly waiting around for you, right?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re really going to keep this up, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” they replied, their expression a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “Why settle for someone who’s already got his eyes on Rogue when you could be with someone who actually sees you? Like me.”

“If only the real Logan could see you now. You wouldn’t last a second if he was here,” you quipped.

 “He’d probably give me a high five for finally getting you to lighten up.”

“Sure, right before he throws you out the window,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “Even if Logan and I bothered to give each other a chance, it's just another excuse for some love-hexagoned drama for the students to feign on.”

“Hexagon? I thought this was more of a straight line,” Morph said, shrugging playfully, returning back to their form. “How much longer are you going to let Gambit’s rejection keep you down?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “I don’t know, Morph. I’m still trying to figure out my feelings for Remy, and you know how complicated things are with Marie in the picture.”

Morph leaned in closer, their expression softening a bit. “Look, I get it. It’s a mess, but you can’t just let it stop you from exploring something new. What’s the harm in talking to the wolverine? You might be surprised.”

“Talking to Logan?” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “What’s that going to do? I’m not looking for a rebound or a distraction. I’m not that kind of gal.”

“Just a chat,” they insisted, his voice lightening again. “You never know. Maybe you’ll find out that you have more in common with him, more than just a mutual crush on unavailable people.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, getting up from your seat. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not ready for that right now. I need to deal with my own stuff first.”

Morph crossed their arms, the grin returning. “Fair enough, but just know I’m here, waiting, when you’re ready to make your move.”

“Thanks, but really, let’s just drop it for now,” you said, feeling a bit lighter in thought as you made your way out of the kitchen.

As you walked through the familiar halls of the X-Mansion up to your room, Morph’s words were still in your head. They had a point, no matter how much you denied it. Maybe this was something you needed, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

What could possibly go wrong?

chapter 3 - what we plan

The X-Mansion had another afternoon buzzed with its usual energy, the sounds of training and laughter echoing through the halls. You found comfort in your routine, but your thoughts often drifted back to Morph’s words from a few days back. Yet, every time you found yourself lost in those thoughts, a rush of uncertainty would follow.

After an intense training session, you retreated to the common room, seeking solace in the company of your teammates. As you entered, you spotted Logan across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he talked to Jean. Even bothering to talk about what Morph said to you with him was pointless. He had his own things to deal with, if it wasn’t clear enough.

You grabbed a nearby magazine, your eyes skimming the pages, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You recalled Morph’s words, their constant suggestion that you should pursue something with Logan. It felt too foolish to consider now. He had his own problems, and his own, personal interests. 

As you tried to concentrate on the text, you caught snippets of their conversation. Jean laughed at something Logan said, and your heart sank a little. You shifted in your seat, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine while you tried to make sense of your feelings. Was it even worth pursuing something with Logan, or was it just a fleeting thought sparked by Morph's teasing?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the hours pass, and the only person left in the room was you. It was late. You threw the magazine back on the couch, and decided to head back to your room, making your way up the stairs. As you walked down the hall, you suddenly bumped into Logan, who was on his way back down.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You okay, bub?”

“Yeah, just didn’t see you coming,” you replied, trying to mask your heart pounding out of your chest.

He offered a small smirk, his expression softening. “You’re awfully lost in thought lately. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. Should you mention Morph’s suggestion? Or the nagging feeling that there could be something more between you two? Instead, you shrugged lightly. “Just the usual stuff...training, missions, you know how it is.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure–?”

“Yeah, well,” you interrupted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “there's a lot on my mind.”

He studied you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes piercing right through. “You wanna talk about it?”

The weight of his gaze continued to send your heart racing. 

This was it. You could either keep running from your thoughts or just finally spit it out.

 “I was thinking about what Morph said to me a few nights ago.”

A flicker of curiosity crossed Logan's face. “Morph? What’d that hellspawn say this time?”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “He mentioned us. Getting together. It’s ridiculous, I know.” The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself, leaving you feeling quite awkward. You tried presenting yourself enamored by crossing your arms and looking casual, but anyone could see right through that it was taking a toll on you.

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, and paused for a moment, taking it into thought. He then let out a soft chuckle.

 “Y/N, don’t let Morph’s nonsense mess with your head. They're just trying to stir the pot, like always.”

You bit your lip, still unconvinced. It took him that long to form his sentence? You assumed the both of you were just not in the mood to discuss it, which was partially true. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just had me thinking it over so much, that I–”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand, his expression shifting to one of playful exasperation. “Seriously, don’t overthink it. We’ve got enough to deal with without getting tangled up in that kind of drama.” 

And that was that. In the end, maybe it was a stupid idea after all. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a nod of reassurance as he walked back off.

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect yourself as you reached the top floor when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. Remy, standing there, hands in pockets just right in your way, with his usual playful smirk softened by something unreadable in his expression. He straightened up when he saw you, his eyes flickering that made your heart clench.

"Chère," he greeted, voice low and smooth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with the same warmth you usually did.

“Remy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even, standing still. Though, your emotions stirred uneasily beneath the surface. After everything that had happened, after he’d stood you up and had made the decision to be with someone else, you couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration gnawing at you.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady yourself, but the words you’d been rehearsing came spilling out faster than you expected. "Have you figured out what I mean to you yet?”

His easy smile faltered, and he looked away for a second before meeting your gaze again, regret shadowing his eyes. “Y/N, it ain't like that. I never wanted to hurt ya...”

“But you did, didn’t you?” The question hung between you, heavy and thick with the nights he’d promised and didn’t show, the times you’d let yourself believe he might actually feel the same way.

His hand reached out, but you pulled back before he could touch you. "I waited for you, Remy. I thought—” You trailed off, hating the vulnerability in your voice, but there was no point hiding it now. “I thought we had something.”

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration clear in his stance. “Y/N, you mean a lot t’ me, but Marie... she’s somethin’ I just can’t let go of. She’s always been there in a way I can’t explain.”

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the ache in your chest settling as a numbness began to take its place. “I see.”

“No, chère,” he protested softly, stepping closer, his expression earnest. “I care for ya, but Rogue... she’s part o’ me.” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words, but they felt like nothing more than just empty echoes.

In the silence that followed, you took a step back, pressing your arms around yourself to hold together the pieces of your heart that felt like they were splintering apart.

"Fine. Let’s just pretend it never happened."

With that, you turned and left him standing there, resisting the urge to look back. If you stayed, you’d only keep finding yourself hoping for something that would never be. Remy reached out as if to stop you, but you turned, stepping away before he could say anything more, with your footsteps echoing against the quiet walls of the mansion. You were done letting yourself be second place.

As you reached for your door, you took a shaky breath, attempting to swallow the wave of emotions that had been threatening to burst free. You’d tried for so long to keep those feelings buried, to push them aside and pretend that things didn’t affect you as much as they did. But tonight, it felt impossible. You would do anything to get back at him, just as he did to you.

Just as you were about to turn the doorknob and enter your room, a voice behind you broke the silence. “You sure you’re alright?”

Startled by his voice, you turned, finding Logan standing there.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? The hurt, the anger, what had just happened a few moments earlier...he couldn’t have just let it go unnoticed.

As you stood there, still reeling from your conversation with Remy, Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts. His tone was unusually gentle, his gaze fixed on you.

“I, uh, heard some of that back there,” he admitted, his voice low. “...Kinda hard not to.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah...”

Logan took a moment to steady himself, his expression shifting as he gathered himself before speaking again. “So, you’re done waiting around for him to make up his mind?”

“Completely done,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of this backup shit.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Gambit and Jean could use a wakeup call...” His tone turned mischievous, and you could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “You up for causing a little trouble?”

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, intrigued.

Was he actually reconsidering what you told him?

“You know... I thought about what Morph said to you, after hearing all that earlier,” he admitted, looking a bit conflicted. “At first, I figured it really was just them stirring the pot, trying to rile us up. But then...” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his jaw, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Then I started thinking that maybe they were onto something.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Logan, of all people, wasn’t one open to change, let alone do something like this.

 “If they want to ignore what’s right in front of them, maybe they need a reason to think twice. We show up, give ‘em a taste of what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. You and me... pretending we’re hitting it off.”

Your eyes widened.

 It was simple, maybe a bit petty, but the thought of flipping the tables felt too satisfying. And this was an opportunity that might never come again.

 “So, you’re saying... we should act like we’re into each other?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “A few meaningful looks and some well timed moments. It’ll have them second guessing everything they thought they knew about us.”

“Tempting,” you admitted, still in thought about wanting to go with this crazy idea, but still hesitant on what could happen from it. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Okay, I’m in. But we need to set some ground rules; no crossing lines, and we keep it strictly for show.”

“Deal.” Logan extended his hand, and you shook it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip.

. . .

As you settled into bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. The idea sounded nice at first, and maybe it was originally Morph playing along, trying to play matchmaker. But now it was official. 

And you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into. 

chapter 4 - what we act

You woke up to the muted light of morning, filtering through the curtains. Your mind was already racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Today, you’d be putting the plan into action with Logan, and the uncertainty tormented you. How would it feel to pretend to be something you weren't? Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed, bracing yourself for whatever might unfold.

Making your way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, you hoped to dodge any awkward encounters, but there he was. Logan stood at the counter, stirring coffee with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the counter, lost in thought.

As soon as he noticed you, a small smirk played on his lips, something almost conspiratorial. “Mornin’,” he said casually, but there was a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

 He definitely had something in mind. 

“Morning,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you grabbed a glass of water. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare.

Logan set down his mug, his expression shifting to something slightly more serious. “You still up for this?” he asked, voice low, and quiet enough that no one else would overhear.

You took a deep breath, giving a decisive nod.

A moment later, you heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jean’s laughter. Logan gave you a subtle nod, the silent signal that it was time to begin. You took a step closer to him, glancing up through your lashes just enough to catch his eye.

He responded immediately, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, his hands lingering beneath the hem of your pants, just enough for the warmth of his touch to spread over you like a shockwave. “Play along,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You tried to settle your heartbeat as the footsteps grew closer. Jean and Scott rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the two of you standing so close, Logan’s arm around you, that spoke of something far more than friendship. You saw the flicker of surprise on Jean’s face, quickly masked with a forced smile, and a hint of something else in Scott’s usual stoic expression.

“Oh,” Jean said, voice a touch higher than usual, “Good morning, you two.”

Logan just nodded, that small, mischievous smile barely hidden. “Mornin’, Jean. Scott.”

Jean’s gaze flicked between you two, as though trying to piece together how she’d missed this...development. Her eyes lingered on you, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face, and you had to resist the urge to smirk. You were definitely giving them both something to think about.

Scott cleared his throat, trying to break the strange silence. “Didn’t realize... you two were so close.”

Logan’s arm tightened around you just a bit. “Well, there’s a lot people don’t realize,” he replied smoothly. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the flicker of jealousy in Jean’s eyes told you it wasn’t lost on her either. You were tensed up in his embrace, and it didn’t help that your body was heating up right at that moment. Your throat was suddenly dry, struggling to utter a single word.

Scott's eyes shifted between you and Logan, his normally composed expression giving way to slight discomfort. Jean, on the other hand, tried to maintain her composure, but you could see the question in her eyes, the slight arch of her brow as if she was piecing things together.

“Well,” Jean said, attempting a breezy tone, “it’s... nice to see everyone getting along.” But her gaze had more to elaborate, the forced smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yeah, who knew?” Logan replied, his smirk turning just a little more smug as he pulled you closer. He was playing it up perfectly, and the look of surprise on both their faces was strangely satisfying.

Scott gave a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scene. “Right. Well, don’t let us interrupt.”

With that, he turned, gesturing for Jean to follow him down the hall. As they walked away, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but unmistakably intrigued.

When they were out of your vision, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Logan finally released you, a satisfied look in his eyes.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, his tone teasing, still laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.

“Yeah, but this was just a warm up,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face despite the nerves churning in your stomach. “We’re going to have to keep going with this...show of ours.”

“Just keep it casual, and we’ll be fine.” Logan replied, getting up from his chair. He didn’t step away immediately, though; the space between you felt more charged than it had any right to be. His hand lingered again. This time, near yours on the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth, and for a fleeting moment, it was quite easy to forget that this was all just for show.

You cleared your throat, shifting back slightly, giving yourself some breathing room. “Right, casual,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. 

The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted, almost feeling the unspoken change in his gaze.

“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. “If you keep acting like it’s a big deal, they’ll notice.”

You felt a slight heat creep up your neck, but shrugged it off. “I’m not overthinking,” you shot back, attempting to keep your tone light. “Just making sure I’m... convincing.”

He stepped a little closer, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Convincing? More like being stiff.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not true.”

“Y/N, you looked like you had a stick up your ass.”

“I’m doing my best, okay? It doesn’t just happen overnight.”

Logan’s expression stayed steady. “Good,” he said, his voice softer but still direct. “That’s all we need.”

You took a breath, nodding slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just... a lot to think about.”

“Then don’t overthink it,” he replied with a slight grin. “We’re just giving them a show. Keep it simple, don’t force anything. They’ll see what they want to see.”

You nodded, only then remembering that once again, you had to continue this show of yours. You and Logan would be heading out on a mission tonight, with you alongside him. Together. They hadn’t told you who else would be joining, which left a gash of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“Right, the mission,” you replied, trying to shake off any leftover tension. “No pressure, right?”

Logan chuckled softly, “No pressure at all. Just another night making sure no one dies.”

“Yeah,” you took a small breath, a smile breaking through your nerves. “And pretending to be in a relationship.”

“Remember to keep it simple,” he reminded you, a tease in his tone, while on your gaze before he walked off. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the lead.”

 A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach as he left you alone in the kitchen. The mission ahead felt daunting enough, and the thought of maintaining the pretense of a relationship with him sent your mind racing. 

This wasn’t going to be so easy.

chapter 5 - what we suppress 

The evening air was cool and crisp as you made your way to the X-jet with Logan, Scott, and Marie, who was adjusting her gloves in silence. Scott’s gaze was steady, his expression all business, but you caught the slight hesitation as his eyes passed over you and Logan. Logan noticed too, throwing a quick, almost smug grin Scott’s way as he placed a casual hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch caught you off guard, but you willed yourself to keep a neutral expression, feeling the cool, easy role settling over you.

Marie, catching the gesture out of the corner of her eye, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If anything, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, like she knew something Scott didn’t. Scott, meanwhile, looked at Logan and then back at you with an expression somewhere between surprise and doubt, but he stayed quiet.

“Alright, listen up,” Scott began, folding his arms as he launched into the mission brief. “Intel indicates there’s a cache of prototype weapons and possibly experimental compounds stashed in the warehouse. Marie and I will sweep the perimeter. Logan, you will take the inner corridor. Y/N, secure the samples if you find any. We need evidence, so keep it quiet, keep it subtle, and stay on comms.”

“Understood,” Logan replied, the lazy smirk still lingering as he squeezed your shoulder for effect. You fought back the urge to shove him off, partly because his touch felt oddly...reassuring, but mostly because Scott’s slight frown felt like its own kind of victory. And seeing it any longer would make you cry of laughter. 

The X-jet lifted off, slicing through the night sky. You shifted your attention to watching your surroundings, taking a seat besides Logan, glancing at Scott who began to outline the plan once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll be approaching the warehouse in ten minutes. Rogue and I will cover the perimeter while you two head inside. Stay alert,” Scott instructed.

“Roger that,” Logan replied. “You just make sure to keep those laser eyes to yourself.”

“Very funny,” Scott shot back, his tone dry. “Focus on the mission, Logan.”

As the jet soared through the clouds, you glanced at Logan, who wore a smirk that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. “So,” he said, leaning closer. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Guess I'm being your emotional support tonight,” you uttered in a sarcastic manner. It happened almost naturally; turning your mind off to focus on what was ahead, you couldn’t deny it helped your case. “Someone has to keep you in check.”

“Good luck with that,” he retorted with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, having you by my side makes this whole mission a lot more interesting.”

“Glad to hear I can spice up your life, Logan,” you replied, trying to match his nonchalance. “Just don’t get too distracted by my presence.”

“Ah, you must be talking about your ability to look cute while doing nothing.”

You couldn’t help yourself but have a big smirk plastered on your face. “I can assure you, I’ll be doing plenty of ‘nothing’ while you’re busy kicking ass.”

Scott’s voice cracked through, his tone annoyed. “Are you two done flirting? We’re almost at the drop zone.”

“He’s right,” Marie chimed in with a sly grin, glancing over her shoulder at the two of you. “Save the romance for after we’re done.”

Logan’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, Anne. It’s just mission talk. Mostly.”

The jet began its descent, and you felt the subtle shift in atmosphere as everyone went into mission mode. As soon as you touched down, the team moved quickly. Rogue and Scott split off to cover the perimeter as planned, disappearing into the shadows around the warehouse. Logan gave you a quick nod before signaling toward the side entrance, both of you slipping quietly inside.

The place was dark and still, the distant hum of machinery faint in the air. Logan took the lead, moving with a quiet precision that belied his usual rough demeanor. You stayed close, eyes scanning every corner, trying to ignore the fact that he was keeping just a little closer than necessary.

The comms crackled in your ear. “Y/N, Logan, we’re in position,” Scott’s voice came through, steady and calm. “Any movement?”

“Negative,” you whispered back. “Place is dead quiet so far.”

As you moved further into the building, a tense silence settled between you and Logan. He slowed, gesturing for you to check a nearby door while he kept watch. You edged forward, opening it just wide enough to peer inside. The room was packed. Crates, steel tables, shelves lined with sleek weapons and unknown tech. Jackpot.

“Found something,” you whispered into the comm. “Looks like prototype weapons, maybe more.”

“Copy that,” Marie replied. “Get what you can. Scott and I are still clear.”

You quickly snapped photos of the equipment, putting smaller prototypes in your pockets while Logan kept his gaze fixed on the corridor. But as you finished, footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the stillness. You froze, eyes darting to Logan, who signaled for you to keep low. You quickly ducked behind one of the tables, as he slid beside you.

“Company.” you murmured.

Logan gave a subtle nod, resting a steady hand over your lips as a signal to keep calm. His fingers lingered for a beat, sparking a warmth you tried to ignore, forcing your attention back to the sounds approaching.

Scott’s voice crackled in your ear. “Status?”

Logan cast you a sideways glance. “Just a little activity. We’re fine.”

The shadow of a guard passed just outside the doorway, pausing for a tense moment. You held your breath, clutching the edge of the table to keep from shifting, as Logan’s hand brushed yours in silent reassurance. The faint metallic clink of the guard’s gear sent a shiver up your spine.

The sound of boots hitting concrete grew louder. Guards. Too many to take head-on, especially in such a confined space. Logan’s sharp eyes darted around before locking onto a supply closet a few feet away. Without hesitation, he pulled you toward it, tugging the door open just wide enough for the both of you to slip inside.

The space was cramped, barely large enough to hold the two of you. Logan’s body pressed against yours as he adjusted his position, his arm braced against the wall to keep from crushing you entirely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping through the tension of the moment.

“Really?” you whispered, your tone dry despite the situation. “This is your big plan?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, quiet down,” Logan replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

The voices of the guards grew closer, and the beam of a flashlight passed just outside the slats of the door. Your breath hitched, and Logan caught the sound, his gaze flicking to yours. He shook his head slightly, silently telling you to stay calm.

The guards paused right outside, their conversation muffled but tense. Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hand instinctively rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his claws if necessary. But the seconds stretched on, and the guards eventually moved on, their voices fading into the distance.

Logan let out a quiet breath, his eyes flicking to yours. “Told you it’d work.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the tight space and the way his confidence somehow made the situation feel less suffocating. “Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean nearly giving me a heart attack.”

He shrugged, the movement almost brushing against you. “Heart’s still beating, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”

The two of you stepped out, looking back and forth around the room to ensure no one else was around. But the momentary quietness didn’t last for long. 

Shouts from the guards grew louder, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete floors. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as he tugged you forward, weaving through the maze of corridors.

“This way,” he urged, his voice low but urgent.

You followed close behind, heart hammering in your chest. The narrow hallway gave way to an open loading dock, the cool night air brushing your face like a lifeline. But the guards weren’t far behind.

“There!” one shouted, raising a weapon.

Logan didn’t slow, yanking you behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls. He growled low in frustration, eyes scanning for a way out. Spotting a gap between two trailers, he pointed. “Through there. Go!”

You didn’t hesitate, ducking through the opening and sprinting toward the perimeter fence. The sound of Logan’s claws slicing through the chain link sent a jolt through you. He gestured for you to crawl through first, covering your back before slipping out himself.

The two of you bolted into the cover of the nearby woods, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. You quickly turned on your comms for a moment.

“Scott, Rogue—they found us. We’re heading back to the rendezvous point.”

Marie’s voice crackled in response. “Got it. We’re still clear on our end. Stay low, and we’ll meet you there.”

Scott’s voice followed in. “What happened?”

“Guards,” Logan growled, keeping his pace brisk as he scanned the woods for any sign of pursuit. “Too many for subtlety. But we’ve got what we came for.”

“Just make it back in one piece,” Scott replied, an underlying tension in his voice.

“Always do,” Logan said with a smirk, cutting the comm connection before Scott could fire back.

The night pressed in around you, the sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. After a few minutes, you slowed your pace, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. Logan stopped beside you, his sharp eyes still scanning the dark forest.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but softer than before.

“Yeah,” you managed, your heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Logan shrugged, but his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Wouldn’t have let you face that mess alone.”

You gave a small smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle. “Still, you didn’t have to...you know, drag me into that closet.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he locked eyes with you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes before he finally looked away.

“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re not out of the woods yet—literally.”

You rolled your eyes but followed as he led the way through the trees, the faint sounds of the team waiting in the distance.

The treeline opened up to reveal the sleek silhouette of the X-jet, its ramp lowered like a beacon in the darkness. The faint hum of its systems was a welcome sound, promising safety and a chance to catch your breath.

You and Logan dashed through the trees, the X-jet’s ramp now fully lowered, and you kept close, adrenaline propelling you forward. Breathing hard, the two of you made your way to walk inside.

Scott was already at the base of the ramp, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Marie stood beside him, leaning casually against the side of the jet, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Logan as you approached.

“You cut it close,” Scott said, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

“Yeah, well, we ran into a little welcoming party,” Logan shot back, his tone deliberately nonchalant as he marched up the ramp. He didn’t spare Scott a second glance, leaving you to catch up.

You hesitated, brushing a stray leaf from your sleeve as you met Scott’s gaze. “We’re fine. The mission’s intact. That’s what matters, right?”

Scott’s expression didn’t soften, but he gave a curt nod. “Get on board. We’ll debrief on the way back.”

You moved up the ramp, feeling Marie’s amused eyes on you as she followed. “What’s his problem?” you muttered under your breath.

Marie smirked. “Oh, you know Scott. He hates it when things don’t go perfectly. But between you and me...” She glanced toward Logan, who was already settling into his seat. “I think it’s something else that’s got him all twisted.”

Before you could respond, the hatch sealed shut, and the jet hummed to life. Scott took his place at the controls, his movements stiff, while Marie slid into the co-pilot’s seat. You dropped into the seat across from Logan, who leaned back with a sigh, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

“Nah,” he replied, though his tone didn’t match the word. After a beat, he added, “You did good out there.”

The simplicity of the compliment caught you off guard. You nodded, hiding a small smile as you turned your gaze to the window. The X-jet’s engines hummed steadily, the familiar sound almost lulling you into a sense of comfort after the chaos of the mission. You were both finally in the air, the tension of the night starting to dissolve with each mile that passed.

You shifted in your seat, feeling the exhaustion catch up with you. The adrenaline was wearing off, and fatigue hit harder than you expected. Logan, sitting beside you, seemed just as tired but still alert, his eyes scanning the cabin like he was always prepared for the next move.

You leaned slightly toward him, your head subconsciously moving toward his shoulder. At first, you told yourself it was just to ease the aching muscles in your neck, but as you settled against him, something else tugged at your chest. His shoulder was warm, a solid presence that somehow made everything feel a little less chaotic.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmured, trying to push down the warmth flooding your cheeks.

Logan’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something softer to it. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifted, adjusting his posture to make you more comfortable, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke out of it this time.

You let the quiet settle between you, eyes half-closed as your thoughts wandered. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you thought, the weight of the moment suddenly heavy in your mind. It’s just supposed to be a game, a distraction. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that it was starting to feel like something else. Something real.

As the jet continued its steady flight, you let the thought drift to the back of your mind, pretending it wasn’t there. For now, you’d let yourself stay in this bubble, pretending this whole “fake dating” thing was still just that.

But deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.

chapter 6 - what we hide

When the X-jet finally touched down at the X-Mansion, you felt a quiet relief. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out first, walking briskly to the conference room where the debrief was set to take place. Scott, Marie, and Jean were already inside, sitting at the long table, their expressions unreadable.

Jean, ever the perceptive one, was the first to look up as you and Logan entered. Her gaze lingered on you both, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, but there was something behind it. A glimmer of knowing that made you feel suddenly exposed.

“Mission accomplished?” Jean asked, her voice warm but with that trademark sharpness that suggested she’d already read through the comms logs.

“Yeah,” Logan replied with his usual gruffness, dropping into a seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, the contact so subtle it could’ve been an accident. You fought the urge to look at him, to acknowledge the sudden shift in the air.

Scott didn’t waste time getting down to business. He slid a tablet toward you, showing the photos of the prototypes and weapons you’d collected. “Is this all of it?” he asked, his voice more controlled than before, but the underlying tension between him and Logan was still palpable.

“Yeah,” you replied, your eyes still on the tablet. “Everything’s documented. No casualties on our end.” You searched through the pockets of your uniform, putting the mini prototypes down on the table. “And...these too.”

Jean nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Good work,” she said, her tone still warm, but there was an edge to it now as her gaze shifted between you and Logan. She seemed to linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing just slightly in that knowing way.

“Everything went smoothly?” Jean asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper. “No... surprises?”

You swallowed, not sure if she was referring to the mission or to something else entirely. You glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his jaw tightened that gave you the feeling he was just as aware of Jean’s subtle probing as you were.

“Yeah, no surprises,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Everything went as planned.”

Scott slid the tablet back toward the center of the table, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked up. “Alright, I think that covers everything. You’ve done good work,” he said, his tone indifferent, but not unappreciative. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss soon.”

You nodded, ready to leave the debrief behind you. The tension had been thick in the room, and now that the mission was officially over, you couldn’t wait to take a breath without everyone’s eyes on you.

Logan, however, didn’t move immediately. He turned his head toward you, that familiar, unreadable expression on his face. “You coming?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

You nodded again, standing up. The two of you started toward the door when Jean’s voice stopped you.

“Hold up, Y/N,” she called. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Marie, who had been standing by the door, gave you a knowing look. Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before shrugging. “I’ll be outside.” He gave you space to handle this, but the shift in the air was undeniable. You felt a wave of unease wash over you.

You hadn’t expected Jean and Marie to corner you after the debrief, but here you were, sitting across from them in the hallway just outside the conference room. You felt the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging between you.

Jean, always the more subtle one, folded her arms, her smile just a little too knowing. "So," she started, her voice smooth and casual. "How’s everything going? You and Logan, I mean."

You stiffened, caught off guard. Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you found yourself lost for words. “Uh, it’s good,” you said, your tone a little too light, betraying the nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, the mission’s over, so...”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with that playful sarcasm you’d come to recognize. "It’s just... y’all seem real comfortable around each other, huh? A bit more than just teammates, wouldn’t you say?”

I guess they were really buying it now. This is good.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Marie’s eyes glinted mischievously as she crossed her arms, leaning in just a bit. “Oh, come on, sugar. You two were pretty cozy back there. I’m just sayin’.” She tilted her head in a way that made it clear she was teasing, but there was an edge to her tone that made your heart race, a sudden panic crawling up your spine.

Jean smirked, sensing the discomfort in your response. "I was reviewing the comms from the last mission— must be something going on between you two.” Her voice was lighthearted, but there was something about the way she said it—acting like a couple, that made your chest tighten. You knew she wanted to get something out of you.

You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “It's nothing like that, really. We're just—just getting the job done, you know?” Your voice was a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Marie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quaking upward. “Mhm, I bet. But you can’t deny the vibes, sugar.” She shot a glance at Jean before continuing, her tone more teasing. “Just like how Scott’s been all mopey over Jean lately... though, we all got our own little dynamics going on.”

Jean nodded, the smile never quite fading. “You and Logan, Scott and I, and—” she paused, glancing at Marie, “Remy...and Marie. It’s funny how these things just...happen, huh?” Her words had a casual air, but you could tell she was trying to gauge your reaction.

You felt your throat tighten at the mention of Remy.

Gambit. 

Right. 

You knew you were technically pretending to be with Logan, but hearing it brought you back to reality. You weren't a real couple. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that. But... the way they were talking about their relationships so casually, it felt so much more real.

Marie’s smile softened a bit as she leaned in closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t have to have it all figured out with him right away. Just take your time. I mean, things with Logan can be... complicated.”

Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Logan’s not the easiest to figure out, I know. But he’s got a good heart under all that stubbornness. Just... don’t be afraid to let him in when you’re ready.”

You forced a smile, nodding in agreement even though your thoughts were racing. Pretend. Right. You had to keep it together, keep up the act, even though it was becoming harder to distinguish the lines between reality and the mission.

“Thanks,” you said, clearing your throat. “But it’s really nothing. Just... keeping things professional.”

Marie winked, still teasing. “Alright, sugar. But if you do decide to make it more than just a mission thing, you know where to find me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a softness in it too, a subtle kindness you appreciated.

As you, Jean, and Marie finally parted ways, heading off in different directions, you took a breath, trying to shake the awkwardness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, and made your way to the door.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you spotted Logan just a few paces ahead, his back to you as he walked toward the staircase. He must have been waiting for you, or maybe just lingering after the meeting, but either way, you appreciated his presence to stick around.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice slightly strained as you reached him.

He turned slightly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “How’d it go?” His eyes flicked toward you, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster.

You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It went... fine.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in the way you spoke betrayed the uncertainty you felt. “They’re just curious about us.” You couldn't help but add the last part with a slight edge, as if the mere mention of it made your insides twist.

Logan’s brow furrowed, his usual unreadable expression faltering just a bit. “Curious?” His voice was low, like he was still trying to process exactly what that meant.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, well... they think we’re actually a thing. Jean was all smiles, and Marie...” You trailed off, shaking your head as if it would help shake away the unease. “It was just a lot of teasing, I guess.”

A slight chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and he glanced over at you, his expression unreadable but laced with something... almost like amusement. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly, but you quickly recovered. “Just enough to keep them satisfied.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah, well, it’s working, I guess,” he said, his voice just a little quieter now, a little less casual. He paused, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “But maybe we should kick it up a notch, huh?”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Kick it up a notch?”

Maybe it was a joke, or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but something about the way he looked at you stirred something beneath the surface. “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended, as your faces grew uncomfortably close.

Logan’s smirk faltered just for a moment, and you could feel the shift in the air around you. He didn’t immediately respond, the space between you both suddenly charged with something you weren’t sure you were ready for. He blinked, almost surprised, but then leaned back with a casual shrug as if to shake it off.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “I guess it wouldn't hurt.”

 His tone wasn’t as teasing as it would have been, which was a bit unexpected in your eyes. You tried not to think much of it. This was a fake relationship, after all. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. Your faces were so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath, your pulse racing in your ears. Logan held your gaze, and you saw that flicker of something deeper. Something that didn’t quite match the playful tone of his words.

But, just as quickly as it appeared, he brushed it aside with a half-hearted wink and a shrug. "Guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, huh?"

You nodded, a quiet tension still hanging in the air. As he turned and walked toward the stairs, you lingered, fighting the urge to follow him, the strange weight of the moment heavy on your chest.

One thing was for sure; things were definitely not as simple as they seemed anymore.

And though you couldn’t pinpoint what specifically, it was there.

chapter 7 - what we share

You watched Logan retreat upstairs until he disappeared around the corner, the faint scent of cigars along with it. The rest of the team had either gone to bed, or disappeared into their own corners of the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was strange, how a place so full of people could feel so empty. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, your mind wide awake from the teasing Jean and Rogue had done just minutes ago. Lost in thought, you heard your stomach grumble.

A snack sounded better than staring at the ceiling for hours.

The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You reached to open the fridge, it's cold light spilling over shelves of leftovers and mismatched condiments. You grabbed a soda and some crackers, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

The voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, that unreadable look still firmly planted in his eyes. The surprise faded into a familiar calm.

“You always raid the kitchen this late?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

“I thought you just went upstairs?” you replied, keeping your tone light. “What’s your excuse?”

He smirked faintly, stepping inside. “I don’t really sleep. Figured I’d hang with you instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, popping open the soda. “That your way of saying you’re hungry?”

Logan shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Maybe. The girls kept you wide awake, huh?”

You hesitated, the soda can cooling your hand. “More like the mission from today,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. “Feels like I’m still out there, you know? Like my body made it back, but my head didn’t.”

Logan nodded, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruits, biting it hard. “It’s normal. First few times, it messes with you. Then it just...sticks with you differently.”

“Comforting,” you said dryly, and he chuckled.

Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.

“You two always this chatty at midnight, or am I just lucky?”

You turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a disapproving tilt to his head.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Relax, Summers. We’re not plannin’ a coup.”

Scott gave a slight smirk but didn’t lighten much. “So are you two... a thing now?” he asked, his tone playful but still searching. "Or just the late-night hangout type?"

You felt a sudden awkwardness settle in the room, and Logan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he smirked, looking back at you to respond.

“A bit of both.” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you intended. You glanced at Logan, unsure of how much to say, or if you even wanted to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to dive into an explanation that neither you nor Logan had figured out yet.

Logan’s eyes flickered to yours. "Yeah, something like that."

 “Right. Well, if you’re both done with your midnight snack, and well...cracking your little situation, the danger room isn't going to run itself tomorrow.” He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Logan finished his apple, tossing the core into the trash. “He means well,” he said, almost grudgingly.

“Yeah,” you said, setting your soda down, taking a bite of some crackers. “Doesn’t make it any less annoying sometimes.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter. “Well, you heard the man. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I will.” you replied, taking a small sip of your soda once again. You noticed Logan’s expression, lost in thought about something in particular. He stood near the hallway door, contemplating going on with his own endeavors, or staying with you. Either way, it was obvious the two of you weren’t planning to go sleep anytime soon. Not yet. 

“So, speaking of cracks,” you began, the words coming out slower than you expected. “You ever had anyone, you know, break through yours?”

Logan’s eyebrow twitched. “What, you mean, like, past loves?” His tone was neutral, almost shaking his head back to reality.

You nodded, curious but not pushing. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything. Just... someone who actually made you feel like you were seen, I guess.”

Logan glanced down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t expect him to. Logan wasn’t exactly one for talking about his past.

Eventually, he let out a breath, his voice quiet. “Yeah, a few. Doesn’t last long, though. When you’ve lived through what I have, it’s hard to let anyone in too close.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a small grin. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s funny, still willing to fake date someone, even with all that baggage.”

Logan’s eyes flickered toward you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile if he wasn’t so stubborn. “Don’t read too much into that,” he muttered.

“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning against the counter with a raised eyebrow. “If you can pull that off, maybe letting someone in isn’t as impossible as you make it sound.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there, just barely. “Fake dating is a hell of a lot easier than the real thing,” he grumbled, clearly trying to avoid admitting anything deeper.

“Sure, but it’s still a step,” you shot back with a shrug. “Maybe next time you won’t need a cover story.”

Logan paused at the cabinet door, hand on the handle, probably to get another snack, but he didn’t open it right away. He looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem pretty sure about all this relationship stuff now," he said, voice low and teasing. "Didn't know you were such an expert."

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter with your arms crossed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied, giving a small shrug. "Just trying to figure it out. I mean, we all have our baggage, right?"

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer again, almost instinctively closing the distance between you two. There was a shift in his gaze, a flicker of something else, something a little more raw. "Yeah. Baggage," he muttered. 

“I’ve got enough to fill a warehouse,” he added, for a short moment; his voice still rough, but edged with a dark humor. "Doesn't mean I’m looking for someone to help carry it."

“I understand,” you said quietly, your eyes lowering as you reached for your soda again. You took a small sip, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve got my own baggage too. Probably more than I’d like to admit.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his attention on you, steady and unwavering. He let go of the cabinet door, walking slowly to where you were seated. 

“I get why you’d rather keep your distance,” you continued, your voice quieter now, your fingers lingering close to your soda can. “I think... I think I’ve been doing the same thing, just in my own way. Maybe I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length, too.” You met his gaze then, your eyes a little hesitant. “Maybe because I’m scared. Scared of getting hurt again, or worse, scared of realizing I was never really enough in the first place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, just a little, and his lips parted to say something. He hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice quieter than before, a hint of sincerity lacing his words. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to convey something else without saying it directly— it made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the weight of his hand, and the moment. There was something about Logan that made you want to let your guard down, to let him see parts of you you refused to show anyone else. Something about the way he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you, he just let you be you. Authentically you.

It was never like that was Remy. No, not even. You wished.

“So, fake dating aside,” you replied, eyes darting away, interrupting the silence. “Do you ever think about what you’d want... if you actually did date someone? For real, I mean.”

"For romance..." he muttered, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. His gaze drifted, not quite meeting yours, as if searching for something in the air between you. He sat beside you now, arms on the table counter. 

"I guess it’s easier when someone’s already... taken, you know?" He finally met your eyes, an expression of something you couldn’t quite place in them. "It’s, well, you care about someone but you don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to figure out all the mess of... well, actually being with them. You can care from a distance, and that feels safer. That’s all." His voice was low, a little rough, but there was no bitterness in it, just a resigned honesty.

You didn’t say anything at first, processing what he’d said. It was a strange admission, and yet it made a twisted kind of sense. Logan had always kept his emotions buried so deeply, so well-hidden, that hearing him open up almost caught you off guard.

He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I’m not saying I’m some kind of martyr or anything. I mean, Scott and Jean have their thing. I’ve got my... Well, whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand vaguely in the space between you jokingly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. "But yeah, it’s easier that way. You don’t have to deal with the what-ifs, the risks. You just... live in the moment and let it go."

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” you said, chuckling, trying to keep the mood light, but even you could feel the pain of his words. “The whole ‘keep it at a distance’ thing.”

Logan’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “Figured out? Nah.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, still looking at you with that same unguarded look. “It’s just... easier to not feel too much. You know?” His voice was quieter now, and for a moment, you thought he might say more.

You didn’t push. You didn’t need to. You understood. You both had your own ways of coping, your own defenses, and the idea of letting anyone in too close felt dangerous. Too uncertain.

"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. "I get that. It’s easier to... not care too much, right?"

“If I care too much, they’ll get hurt in some way. Ain’t easy, letting someone in."

"Well,” you paused. “I still think the right person would help with the mess. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so...scary. More of just being there when things get messy."

For a moment, there was silence, and you both sat there. Logan’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and you saw the smallest shift in his expression. It wasn’t much, but it was there, something opening up, if only for a moment.

"Maybe," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "But for now, I think I’m good with the fake dating thing."

“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft with a quiet understanding. “For now, we’re good.”

Logan stood up slowly, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. "Well, we’ll see what the future holds," he said, his smirk returning, though it was lighter this time. "Get some sleep. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”

You nodded, your smile faint but genuine. "Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry. Thanks, Logan."

He gave you a small nod before turning toward the door. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you stayed in the kitchen for a while longer. You never realized how easy everything was with Logan. You understood each other a bit too well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

chapter 8 - what we break

The early morning silence greeted you as you pulled yourself out of bed. You stifled a yawn, stretching as the cool air nipped at your skin. Training day. No missions, no more disasters, just time in the danger room, blowing off some steam without needing to worry about anything else.

You moved through your routine, pulling on your workout gear and splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. Training days weren’t always your favorite, but they offered a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. At least, that's what you said, confronted by anyone who didn’t understand.

That optimism is what carried you all the way to the Danger Room. Standing in thought with your earphones in. As the doors hissed open, your steps faltered when you caught sight of who was already there.

Logan.

And Remy.

They were sparring in the center of the room, their movements fluid yet calculated, each step and strike of power and precision. Logan's growls punctuated the sharp clash of their practice weapons, while Remy’s easy smirk didn’t falter, even as he narrowly dodged an incoming blow.

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could run off before they noticed, Remy caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and called out, “Morning, chère. You here to watch or join in the fun?”

You held out one of your earphones and froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Words failed you as your brain scrambled to come up with something, anything—that wouldn’t make you seem out of place.

Logan’s head turned at Remy’s greeting, his sharp gaze locking on you. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight tilt of his head made it feel like he was sizing you up.

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stammered, stepping further inside before you could talk yourself into running the other way. “Thought I’d... get some training in.”

Remy straightened, tossing the staff he’d been holding to his other hand with a cocky flourish. “Perfect timing, non? We could use a fresh pair of eyes. Logan’s got his claws out today.”

You laughed awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Logan grunted, brushing past Remy and heading to the weapons rack. “You just gonna stand there or jump in, bub?”

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Well, this is going to be good,” Morph’s familiar voice drawled from the corner. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, their mischievous grin on full display. Clearly, they've been watching the whole thing, and from the look on their face, they weren't planning on missing a second of what was about to unfold.

You threw Morph a glare, but it only made them grin wider. Great. An audience.

“Uh, I’m good for now,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “Just warming up.”

You moved to the farthest available spot on the mat, your face heating under the weight of Logan’s and Remy’s lingering gazes. As you stretched, you could feel Morph’s eyes on you, too, like they were silently narrating every awkward twitch and stumble in your movements.

Trying to ignore them, you dropped into a stretch, but your limbs felt stiff, and your balance was off. Every now and then, you caught snippets of the sparring behind you. Remy’s smooth banter clashed with Logan’s gruff responses, the sound of their training weapons striking echoing through the room.

“Keep up, old man,” Remy quipped, his voice light as he sidestepped one of Logan’s swipes with infuriating ease.

Logan snorted, stepping forward with a calculated swing that nearly clipped Remy’s side. “Watch yourself. I’m just warmin’ up.”

You winced, fumbling mid-stretch. Morph’s muffled laugh caught your ear, and you shot them another look over your shoulder.

“What?” they asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.

“You’re distracting,” you muttered, focusing on your stretches again.

They chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. “I’m not the one completely flushed out.”

“I’m not flushed,” you snapped under your breath, though the evidence was plainly there.

Morph snickered, their ability to make you squirm practically a superpower in itself. “Sure, sure. And I’m not morphing into Gambit to test your poker face next.”

You groaned internally, pretending to ignore them as you tried to focus on the stretches. The sharp clang of Logan’s claws retracting pulled your attention for a brief second, and you couldn’t help but glance over.

Logan, as ever, was no-nonsense, brushing off one of Remy’s quips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. But when his gaze flicked toward you, sharp and assessing, your heart stumbled. Did he know how awkward and embarrassing this felt? Being forced to be with the guy you maybe still liked, along with your fake boyfriend?

 He probably smelled it. 

“Looks like she’s gonna warm up all morning,” Logan remarked gruffly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward just slightly. “You plan on actually doin’ anything, princess? Or you gonna keep flailin’ over there?”

Your head snapped toward Logan at the jab, and your hands dropped to your sides, clearly annoyed. 

"I’m stretching. It’s called preparation. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Remy’s laugh rang out before Logan could reply, a smooth, teasing chuckle that grated on your already frayed nerves. "You keep talkin’ like that, you’ll rile him up more than me."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced between the two of them. "You’re both impossible."

“Aw, don’t be like that," Remy said, stepping closer, his ever-present smirk softening just a touch. "We’re just havin’ a little fun. No harm, non?"

You forced yourself to stay still, but every inch of your body wanted to react. Remy’s words felt like a mockery. Your stomach twisted from all of it. There was something in the way his tone lingered, in the flicker of his red eyes towards Logan, that made your blood simmer. 

You then turned towards Logan, of why you’d roped him into this in the first place. Gambit, Remy, the one who had broken your heart, had stood you up weeks prior, leaving you feeling small and humiliated. The worst part? He didn’t even seem to remember. But you did.

Meanwhile, Logan's expression was as unreadable as ever. Carved from stone, he gave away nothing, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Was he irritated? Amused? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it was, it only bothered you more.

You gritted your teeth, stretching through the awkwardness while Logan and Gambit lingered too close for comfort.Remy was still smirking like he was in on some private joke, and Logan, for all his gruffness, didn’t seem to mind the tension he’d stirred up. You stole a glance at Morph, who, to his credit, had the decency to mime zipping his lips after Logan’s warning, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.

With a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself up from your stretch and took a step toward Logan. “You’re right,” you said loud enough to catch both of their attention. “I should stop warming up and actually do something.”

Logan raised a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but there was a tension in his gaze, like he was waiting to see just what you were up to.

With deliberate steps, you closed the space between yourself and Logan. His expression shifted slightly, confusion mixed with curiosity, his body stiffening just enough for you to notice. When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed further.

Despite the rapid pounding of your heart, you reached up, cupping the edge of his jaw lightly with one hand, and pressed your lips to his.

The world seemed to still for that brief moment. His lips were firm but warm, slightly chapped, with a roughness that was distinctly Logan. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and intentional. You allowed yourself to linger just long enough to make it convincing, feeling the way his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, the slight tension in his shoulders as though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

When you pulled away, his eyes were on you, sharper than ever, and his lips parted just enough to give you the satisfaction of having caught him off guard. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I’ve changed my mind about joining you two. I’m going for a run.”

You didn’t dare glance back at Logan as you strode toward Gambit, who looked as though someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. His smirk faltered for a split second, just long enough for you to savor the moment. But he recovered quickly, twirling his staff and tilting his head at you as you walked out.

Behind you, Morph let out a low whistle, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in the room’s energy. Logan said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. If you focused hard enough, you might’ve been able to hear the faintest scoff.

As you headed to the outer yard of the X-Mansion, you couldn’t bring yourself to just run just yet. Your mind was still stuck on what happened in the Danger Room. The moment with Logan. The kiss. It felt like an impulsive decision, one that hadn't really been thought through, but in a way, it had felt right.

Mind racing, you were still standing outside the mansion, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. The morning air did nothing to settle your thoughts, only sharpening the confusion swirling in your head. What the hell had you been thinking? You didn’t even have a chance to understand it before your body had already moved. Shaking your head, you walked back inside, your footsteps heavy on the floor.

You’d barely made it to the hallway when you heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls behind you. The sound of Logan’s boots on the floor echoed loudly, and you could feel his presence long before he spoke.

“Thought you were goin’ for a run,” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, low and tinged. He was obviously pissed.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. 

“Changed my mind,” you muttered, your pace never slowing as you reached for your keys. Your mind raced, but you kept your gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

His footsteps quickened, cutting the distance between you in two long strides until you reached the door to your room. You didn’t stop, but the sound of Logan’s voice, low and tense, made your heart stutter.

“Why the hell’d you do that?” he demanded. 

You finally stopped, but only to face him with your back against the door, your body tensing at the proximity. He stood there, eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to crack. His jaw was clenched, and there was an almost predatory tension in his stance.

“You were the one who wanted to kick things up a notch,” you replied. No matter how sarcastic you may have sounded, it was honest.

Logan’s expression flickered, something close to frustration flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, barely retracting as he crossed his arms. “That was never what I had in mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, and despite everything, a slight smirk tugged at your lips. “I’m not the one who started sparring with Remy. The last person I want to see. You didn’t exactly make it easy to just sit back and watch.”

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes. It was intimidating, and you held yourself back from trying to look away.

“I didn't need you to make me look like an idiot,” he muttered, voice low, almost rougher than usual.

You stood there, back pressed against the door, heart pounding in your chest as Logan’s presence loomed just inches away. The room felt smaller with every second that passed in silence.

You heard his voice, low and rough as he leaned in to repeat himself. “Why’d you kiss me?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I didn’t kiss you to mess with your head, Logan.” Your voice was steady now, no sarcasm, no defensiveness; just raw honesty. “But you’re the one who... made me think something else was going on.”

Logan scoffed, that almost sounded like a laugh, while shaking his head taking a step back. “Oh really? The same way you thought you had something else with Gambit?”

“What the fuck, Logan?”

The words caught in your throat, your breath quickening as the sting of his accusation hit harder than you expected. You pushed yourself off the door, taking a step toward him, your voice tight with disbelief. “Don’t you put that on me,” you snapped, pointing a finger to his chest. “You agreed to this.”

“You’re right, I did,” he replied, his eyes burning with something between anger and confusion, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “But you’re the one stuck in some damn fantasy of what could’ve been with that...cajun." 

“I’m not the one pretending like something’s going to happen with Jean.” The words were out before you could stop it.

Logan’s expression hardened in an instant, and the room seemed to freeze. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing under the strain of what you just said. You could feel the air crackling with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you both.

He stepped back, looking at you as if you’d just struck him with something harder than your words. “You think that’s what this is about?” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “You think it’s about her?”

You didn’t back down, your own frustration burning. “Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “You’re stuck in some fantasy about her, too. Hell, everyone can see it. But don’t act like I’m the only one holding onto something that isn’t real.”

Logan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping the edge of his coat, fighting to keep his cool. His eyes, though, were wild now, full of something you couldn’t quite define. “I’m not you,” he growled, the words coming out rough. “I don’t make mistakes like you. I don’t...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You took a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his. “And what? You think you’re the only one capable of making mistakes?” you shot back, your voice bitter. “Maybe we’re just not meant to have what we want. Because they could care less, to even bother giving a shit about us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the anger, the disappointment of what you’d just thrown into the air. Logan stood there, his chest heaving, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say.

He finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I never said I wanted her,” he muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. His expression was as callous as ever, but the way he stared you down; he couldn’t say it himself, but his eyes could.

Your eyes softened from his answer, but the lump in your throat practically stopped you from giving a response. It didn’t help that your head was pounding from how chaotic your nerves had been turned over. Logan let out a frustrated sigh as you had nothing left to say, from his subtleness, and took a step back. His eyes were still on you, but there was a certain finality to his gaze now, something cold and resolute that you weren’t ready to face.

“Forget it,” he muttered, voice clipped, his face unreadable. “Whatever this is—whatever we are—it's done. I’m done.”

Before you could say another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the argument crashing down, the finality of it all, and the overwhelming ache in your chest settled deep into your bones.

And god, you hated it.

chapter 9 - what we mend

The days had dragged on like an unending weight. Each glance between you and Logan felt like a punch to the gut, both of you stiffening the moment the other entered the room. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he was avoiding you; his silence was louder than any words could have been. The same could be said for you. It was easier this way. Or so you told yourself.

Since that morning in the danger room, when your lips had lingered a fraction too long on his, everything had become... complicated. What had been a simple, calculated arrangement of a fake relationship, the harmless flirtation, was now tangled in a mess of confusing emotions. Neither of you had addressed it, but the tension between you had only grown thicker.

At dinner, you had barely looked up from your plate. Every time you did, you’d catch Logan glancing in your direction only to quickly look away. His eyes were stormy, unreadable, and it frustrated you more than anything. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d actually spoken to him, at least not without a stilted awkwardness between you.

The team noticed, of course. Marie, with her usual sharp eyes, had raised an eyebrow at the silent distance between you two. "You two been fightin’ or something?" she’d asked, but you’d merely shrugged, offering a vague response that did little to explain the situation.

Now, as the evening wore on and the mansion fell quiet, the tension was unbearable. The silence in your room felt suffocating, tossing and turning in your bed; and no matter how much you tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself, your thoughts kept wandering back to Logan. The way his lips had felt on yours. 

But the line had already been crossed. And you didn’t want to cross any others. 

With a decisive moment, you stood from your bed, slipping on your socks with a swift motion. You had to see him. You just had to know if this feeling—this damnable, undeniable feeling was mutual, or if you were completely losing your mind. 

Your steps were quiet as you walked down the hall, your heart pounding louder than the sound of your footsteps. You reached Logan’s door, hesitating for only a moment before you knocked. The sound echoed in the silence.

"Who’s there?" His voice came through, rough and thick with the weight of the day.

"It's me," you said, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in his iconic white tank top and bootcut jeans. His posture was rigid, as though he were waiting for something. When his gaze met yours, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He took another puff from his cigar, which didn’t help how thick the air was between you both. It was almost as if the room itself was holding its breath.

“What do you want?” he asked in slight annoyance.

 “I don’t know,” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you intended. 

Logan didn’t move, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. The silence stretched between you both like a taut wire, neither of you wanting to touch it, but neither able to ignore it either.

“You could’ve stayed away,” he said, his voice rough, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.

“I know.” you whispered, a pang of guilt in your tone. “Look, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to push you.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just brush it off, but then he spoke again, softer now. “It’s not just you.” His eyes flickered, as though searching for something in you, something he wasn’t ready to admit either. “I didn’t mean to snap at you either. It’s just... it’s easier if we both just pretend it didn’t happen.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing against you, making your chest tighten. “It’s not easier,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the thick air between you. "It’s not easier for me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes dropped to his cigar for a moment, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, his gaze returning to you, but this time there was something different in his eyes. Something that softened the hardness you’d seen earlier.

“Then why the hell are we still doing this?” he asked, his voice low, rough with something that almost sounded like frustration. “Why are we still pretending if it’s this complicated?”

You took a step closer, your pulse quickening with the proximity. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I don’t know," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about it—about you. I can’t keep pretending it was just nothing." You looked up, your gaze meeting his, finding him waiting for something, something you couldn’t name.

For a long beat, neither of you moved. Logan’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his jaw tight, as though fighting something inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted forward on the bed, a breath escaping him as if he were finally deciding to let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.

“You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been tryin’ to ignore it, but... hell, you make it hard to forget.”

You took a breath, stepping closer, your body drawn toward him against your better judgment. You could feel the heat between you, the crackling tension that had been building for days now, impossible to ignore any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things so damn complicated.

Logan’s eyes softened, just slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing the back of your fingers with his. The contact sent a shock through you, like electricity, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the gap between you.

“Not your fault,” he said, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “It’s me too. I’m... I’m not good at this shit. But I—” His words faltered, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. “I can’t pretend either.”

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. You pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, full of all the unspoken feelings you’d been trying to ignore for so long. Logan’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let you slip away.

You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. All the confusion, the frustration, the longing—it boiled over in a wave of heat that left you breathless. His lips were firm against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that existed was the storm between you both, the undeniable pull that had always been there, buried beneath layers of doubt and distance.

When you finally broke away, you were both gasping for air. Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he needed to keep you tethered to him.

"Shit, I...that didn’t help, did it..." you whispered, your voice shaky, but a faint smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but it didn’t matter.

Logan’s laugh was low and rough, the sound a mixture of frustration and amusement. "No, but I figured as much." he said, but his eyes were still on you, intense, searching for something.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your hands lingering on his chest to keep a certain distance. "I—"

Before you could finish, Logan’s lips were on yours again, cutting off any further words. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just need. 

“Shut up.”

His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your heart race. The way he touched you felt urgent, almost frantic, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his tank top, and you pushed yourself closer, needing more of him. His lips were rough against yours, parting briefly for a breath, but you didn’t give him the chance to pull away. You kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the space that had ever existed between you.

Logan’s fingers dug into your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel the heat of him through the fabric, and it made every nerve in your body hum with need. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, as if he was claiming you in a way that was both comforting and maddening. The way his hands moved, pulling you closer and closer, left you feeling dizzy, lost in the feel of him.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, and you gasped, a shiver running through your body at the feel of his breath on your skin. You couldn’t stop the way your hands wandered, exploring the hard planes of his chest and shoulders, wanting to touch every part of him. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the feel of his rough hands—it was all too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

You let him take off your shirt, urging him to do the same, and one thing led onto the next.

Logan's hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve of your body. You felt the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss ignited something deep within you, a rush of warmth that spread through every part of you. You moved closer, your hands instinctively reaching for his back, your fingertips grazing the muscles beneath his jeans.

His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans, his body tensing at the touch. You could feel the intensity rising between you, the need in his movements, in the way his lips ghosted over yours before finally capturing them again. The kiss was deeper this time, more urgent, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You pulled back just slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “Logan...” you breathed, your voice shaky as you searched his eyes, trying to read the same urgency, the same longing that mirrored your own. But there was still hesitation there, just beneath the surface. Still, neither of you moved, too tangled in the heat of the moment to do anything but breathe each other in.

His hand slid down your back, resting against the curve of your hip, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your pants. He pulled you closer again, the intensity of his touch making your pulse quicken. “I know,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Me too.”

And the rest? It could only be described as bliss.

chapter 10 - what we confess

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. Strong, steady, and unfamiliar in the best possible way. It wasn’t just the weight of the blanket cocooning you or the soft glow of morning light spilling through the curtains. It was him.

And you were in his bed.

Logan’s arm draped across your waist, his fingers loosely splayed over your stomach as though even in sleep, he refused to let you go. His chest pressed against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe, afraid that the slightest shift would shatter the fragile peace of the morning. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself feel safe, for once, in the quiet intimacy of it all.

Then his voice, low in a whisper, broke the silence. “You awake?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his sleepy gaze. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. It was so endearingly Logan, so unlike the composed version everyone else saw, that it made your chest ache.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Logan’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. “Good. Thought I might’ve crushed you in my sleep.”

You snorted softly, your fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Not even close. Though you do snore.”

“Snore?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, you’re hearing things.”

“Sure,” you teased. “You sounded like a chainsaw. A grumpy one.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he tightened his arm around your waist slightly. “Guess I was too comfortable. Not used to sleeping next to someone who doesn’t wake me up kickin’ in their sleep.”

“Don’t test me,” you said with a mock glare, but your smile betrayed you.

His grin widened as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Noted.”

It was a strange kind of comfort, lying tangled together without the unspoken words or half-faked plans hanging over you. But the comfort didn’t last. The two of you had hardly gotten any words out last night, and reality, as always, had a way of creeping back in.

Logan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze softened, the usual storminess of his eyes replaced with something warmer, something gentler. “We gotta talk.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words you both needed to say hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Logan broke the silence.

“This whole fake-dating thing,” he started, his voice measured, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured it’d be a pain in the ass, but... I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.” He paused, his hand brushing yours lightly. “At least for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Logan...”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently. “I know you were hung up on Remy. And hell, I thought I was hung up on Jean. But the truth is…”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.

“She was someone I thought I wanted,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. He glanced away for a beat, exhaling softly, before meeting your gaze again. “But... it was never real. Not like this.”

“This?” you asked softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

“This,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and curling around it. “You. Us.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to speak.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out?” he added, his voice softer now. “How hard it was to just... stand by while you kept lookin’ at him like he was everything?”

Your chest tightened, his words stirring something deep inside you. “I—”

“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to say. Just... be honest with yourself. With me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested against your cheek. “I don’t think I love him anymore,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I thought I did. For so long, I thought I’d never get over him. But now...” You looked back up at Logan, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t imagine myself without you.”

Logan’s lips quivered into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “’Cause you’ve been driving me crazy, darlin’. Watching you smile, hearing you laugh... it’s all I’ve wanted for a while now.”

A small laugh escaped you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing yours lightly. “But I don’t mind. Not with you.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the desperation of the night before. This wasn’t about drowning in the moment. It was about finding something real, something worth holding onto. When it finally broke, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you breathing in the shared space.

“So, what now?” you asked softly.

Logan smirked. “Guess we stop pretending.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You in?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Yeah. I’m in.”

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d already found it.

[metranart]

Acting like a bird in heat, Hawks ends up fulfilling his mating cycles with you… but now that his mind isn’t a pool of hormones… why does he keep looking for you?

Hawks x Student! Reader (Part 1)

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Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.

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The last time you saw him, your fingers dripped in his milky and creamy essence, his cheeks were bright red, and foggy as the feather adorning his back, and his voice held an elusive pant as if trying to catch his breath, along with his actions. Self-consciousness, the new mask for him to wear as he disentangled your hand from his now flaccid cock, almost caringly, half-lidded golden orbs shinning in its post-delirium bliss yet hiding a regretful truth. How the fuck did this happened? And why the hell did he allowed it? What was that new confusing feeling inside his chest?Takami Keigo knew what it was, but had never had such a close encounter with it in his whole life. 

Shame. 

No man, no citizen, no hero... –shall call himself trustworthy, after what he did. After the kind of thoughts that now circled his brain...agh! and he called himself the Number two hero. What a farse.

A steady hand passed through his golden locks, disheveled strands restricting the smooth motion, as he heavily sighed. 

I need a bath, thought mildly annoyed. Maybe that would serve him to clear his mind and untangle the treacherous feeling threatening to drive him insane, a cold shower would serve the purpose of cooling the deep mortification, he was experiencing. Fresh summer wind ruffled the papers scattered on top of his desk and at the same time, refreshed his blushing skin. The memory of his recent untactful sin, raving his brain like a horde of savages attacking a peaceful village. Damn his luck. Damn his choice of actions and must of all, damned the day, he saved you. Hawks could still remember so many details, little yet so endearing details about you. When arrived at the scene never thought for a minute, would become involved in such colorful acts.

Everything went peachy during the rescue; Endeavor handled the Villain with upmost care while incinerating his head right away from his body. Tactful, the winged hero recalled to think quite amused, it would have been a scarring scene, if not were for the villain being a Nomus. Yet, he couldn’t avoid but to think, there still were so many more options to reach the same end. His job in this particular scene was easy, to say the least. Save the hostage. A sweet, scared and highly ordinary young girl who found herself trapped in the crossed fire. UA uniform hugging your figure, as the Nomus paraded itself around you like a bee setting his sting to hurt. There was little time to act, and the moment the flames exploded from the Number one hero, Hawks saw his window open to save the deceptive young girl. Flying through hell fire landed with a soft thud in front of you, displaying his wings to envelop you in a cocoon of feathers, the red flames licking his crimson wings while shielding you from harm.

His gloved hands went straight to your waist in a studied motion, at the same time his gaze fixed in yours asking for permission to touch you, you almost threw yourself at him like a trembling leaf who seek shelter from the chaotic winds. The winged hero was quick enough to pull you into his welcome arms and fly up, taking you both from the ground just in time. The scorching heat caressed his flying form before both were out of reach. The crowd around the sinister cheered the incineration of the villain, and a swift smirk kidnapped the blonde’s lips in a sassy gest.

He knew he have it in him, Endeavor just needed a few notches in the right direction. All those musings were curtly interrupted as his eyes focused on the civilian resting in his arms, your round eyes caught him off guard, nevertheless, was quick to smile and reassure your questioning stare. You seemed in shock, probable still were. These nasty things never left a sweet taste behind. Flying you to the safety of the ground, landed near the scene, but far away to gift you with some privacy to compose. Hawks gently unwrapped you from his chest and placed a comforting hand over your hunched shoulders, reassuring smile always present in his welcome expression. "It´s ok, you are safe now." His palm gently squeezed your shoulder, thumb doing comforting circle motions over the fabric of the uniform. "Breath, in and out, you'll see how you feel better in matter of seconds–" You managed to quirk the edge of your lip up, and your frame stopped shaking, the tremors slowly disappearing the more oxygen you gulped. "Atta girl" The hero cheered, lowly. "In and out, you’re almost a pro." His good-hearted joke reaped the fruits as a melodic giggle escaped out of you, and your tense frame seemed to relax. "T-thank you, Hawks" you timidly stammered, eyes glued to your fidgeting fingers interlacing each other, nervously.

Looking up from your hands met his gleeful stare, and your cheeks gained a dust of pink. Your lips opened and closed as if wanted to say something but didn’t dare to. Hawks pretended no to notice, to save you the embarrassment. 

He was used to have this effect over the female population, every woman in town was one smirk away from his warm bed, but the young hero had grown tired of those kinds of relationships. When you can have all, you can eat, eventually the buffet seemed less attractive, almost boring.

He liked sex, holly shit, he fucking did! as much as the next guy would. But he needed a challenge –   actually wasn’t sure what he needed, but something inside him was unsatisfied and restless, continuingly poking at the back of his mind.

“Don’t mention it, cutie.” The hero said simply and looking around, realized that your home shouldn't be far away.

“If you want, I can take you to your house" he suggested, in a carefree and friendly tone, "flying everything is closer." Cheerfully, added.

Taking a moment to think, nibble your lower lip a bit but you ended up accepting. His amber glasses shone under the rays of the sun and without preamble, he offered you his arms which you nervously climb for him to leave the safety of the ground and surf the sky, again.

"Are you comfortable?” Keigo asked, feeling your body a little tense among his arms, being carried bride style across the sky would definitely woo any girl, nevertheless, you seem more uncomfortable than anything else. 

“M´Ok.” you said, curtly, and hawks, merely nodded. “By the way, are we heading in the right direction?"

A blush swept across your cheeks at the realization of what he just stated, and timidly squeezing his arm to feel more secure, you glanced down and before you could tell him exactly where your house was, you noticed something coating your fingers.

“You are hurt!” You half-yelled worried, looking at your blood covered hand, and then, at his wounds. You had not noticed it because he had not said anything, nor had he complained, but his arm was burned and one of his wings was semi-scorched. To which the young hero, just shrugged his shoulders, not giving it much importance.

"Comes with the territory." He openly joked, but your eyebrows continued to frown. "It's not serious, a few of Endevour´s flames got me... nothing that won't heal in a few days." He encouraged you, but you weren't able to shake the feeling of guilt.

You had been training hard to become a hero, and just when it was time to prove yourself, you froze.

It was so, so embarrassing that Todoroki's father had to save you, that you refused to go back to the dormitory you shared with your class A classmates. Surely, they would be worried, not to mention, you had already ghosted, a few text messages from Professor Aizawa asking if you were okay. But you just kept feeling like you let everyone down. That was why you preferred to go home and cry your eyes out in the solitude of your bedroom, or among your mom’s arms. 

Now, you felt even worse, since Hawks, the number two hero, was injured because of you. Maybe he didn't show it since he was too professional, but that wound was serious and would take more than a few days to heal, not to mention it could get infected.

Ugh! you had to help him, was the least you could do… It was what a true hero would do.

Setting your mind, you decided to use your quirk on him, despite Recovery Girl several warnings. Without a doubt, you could heal him... now the only setback was, not losing control while doing it.

An idea suddenly lights your brain, and catching a glimpse of a well-known hidden alleyway, near your house, you signaled to him that you had arrived.

Hawks landed softly, and let you down, looking around the place. "I'll take you to the door, which one is yours?" The young hero, offered.

“...Is the one on the other side of the alley.” You indicated, signaling a house, close by.

“Oh, fine.” Keigo said, not really understanding why you choose to walk instead of fly straight to your house, but he let it pass. “Lead the way, then.”

Both entered the alley which was being embraced by thin shadows and before you reached the other side, you turned around and looking at Hawks with embarrassment, you fidgeted with your fingers for a moment. Surprise morphed Keigo´s features comically when out of all the requests in the world, you suddenly asked. 

“May-may I give you a kiss?” You asked, timidly and noticing his bemused expression, corrected. “...As a way of thanking you.... for saving me....”

Your timid request took him by surprise momentarily, but soon his features regain his cool, and was quick to nod to then leant down. A kiss on the cheek, Keigo thought it to be innocent enough, not a usual request, nevertheless, a simple one. If this put you to rest, he'll humor you. Keigo was cocking his head for you to place your sweet lips.... it's now or never, you breathed deeply.... if you were going to use your quirk, now was the moment.

Two slender hands perched in each side of the Hero´s face and in a firm, straight movement, you cocked his face in your direction, surprise registered in his face, and his golden orbs popped open at the feeling of your lips locking with his.    

COMING SOON PART 2....

⭕️ In my PATREON you will find NSFW art of this chapter and more spicy MHA NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction.... Plus 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for the exclusively Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the couple pairing and kinky mood for the story and NSFW art, along with some naughty animation like THIS ONE ....and my eternal and vast gratitude for your support!!!

[actuallysaiyan]

Can we get #84 with Enji? Would love to see how that plays out >:]

warning: smut, lewd themes, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, enemies to lovers, sort of AU where Enji isn't married prompt: “fuck you” - “well, that’s what we’re doing isn’t it?”

Endeavor pisses you off so much. You never know how to deal with him. He thinks himself way too good, better than everyone really. So why the hell did you find him so sexy? The way he holds himself, his physique, his flames…they all turned you on like nothing else.

It doesn’t help that he likes to bark orders around whenever you have to work with him. He’s commanding and demanding. He knows how to get everyone to work, sometimes not for the best. A lot of people are rubbed the wrong way by this giant brute. They don’t like him at all.

You figured a man like that might be married already and making someone miserable, but you’re surprised to find out that he’s single. You find this out one night when you go to the bar with a few colleagues.

After a few drinks, you try to make your way home. But you’re stopped by a villain in the process of committing a crime. You do your best to stop them in your inebriated state, but it’s not long before Endeavor comes rushing in to save the day. For the first time in a long time, you’re happy to see him.

Instead, he just drops you off at home and lectures you about being more vigilant when it comes to hero work. You’re left seething as you try to go to bed. It certainly doesn’t help that you have to rub one out when he leaves and you cum so hard with a soft cry of his name.

The next time you see him, it’s during a training session. You’re in the gym, and you’re letting out all your steam. Of course, Endeavor walks in to do some training as well. You’re furious to see him. He seems pleased to see you.

“I can see you’re taking things more seriously.”

You snap at him. “I’m always serious about this!”

He leaves you alone for a bit, though he can’t help but to check you out. Soon, the two of you make your way towards the showers. The place is deserted. It’s just the two of you. And when he pushes you up against the wall to kiss you, you don’t stop him.

Under the hot stream of water, Enji has you pushed against the wall. Hot, sloppy kisses are shared as he helps you wrap your legs around his big frame. He’s so enormous, it intimidates and turns you on. His lips trail down to your neck, nipping and sucking.

His thick fingers open you up, making your cunt flutter around just the size of his fingers. The sweet moans you make when he curls his fingers against your sweet spot has his cock throbbing. Soon, he’s impaling you on his thick cock.

“Look at you,” he grunts as he begins to bottom out. “Shuddering and shaking. Such a pliable little thing you are.”

“Fuck you,” you spit at him but it soon turns into a moan of pleasure as he begins to rock his hips.

“Well,” he leans in to nip at your bottom lip. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

You can’t even respond. Your brain is too foggy to even think of a decent comeback. Instead you cling to Enji as he fucks you against the shower wall, sending you over the edge with harsh snaps of his hips. He loves to hear you whine his name as you cum so hard. Then he quickly pulls out, spilling all over your mound and lower abdomen.

After cleaning off and drying yourself, Enji comes over and kisses you sweetly.

“I’m only hard on you because I care about you.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @adornedwithlight.

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @sunflowers-heart,  @erebus-et-eigengrau

[iixch]

☆ iixch production

Dirty Luxury •pt.1•

Synopsis: It’s not the most honorable source of income, but being ProHero Endeavor’s Sugar Baby gets you the money. Now as he’s sporting you around, you’re bound to catch eyes, you even meet someone who genuinely wants your. But it’s unheard of to come out of the flames without burns. Will you?

<Enji Todoroki x Reader> < (Eventually) Katsuki Bakugo x Reader>

warnings: swearing

You glide the mauve lipstick over your lips as you watch yourself in the vanity, hair and makeup done. You looked flawless, you had to be, he expected you to be.

Message: I’m sending my car in twenty minutes. Be ready by then, sweet girl.

You sigh reading the message, and move to put on your shoes, a gift from him previously, Yves Saint Laurent, these shoes alone were enough for three months worth of rent. Money. The need for it really made a person desperate, but it seemed those who had more than they knew what to do with were just the same, desperate.

As you stand on the six inch heels and look at yourself in the full length mirror, you appreciate the sight before you. The jewelry that adorned your skin, the quality of the dark burgundy materiel of the flattering and elegant Tom Ford dress- yet you lived in a small flat, with chipped paint on the walls, lifted wood planks, on the not so great part of town.

You had to scoff.

No little girl dreams of being a man sexual fantasy just so she can afford the luxury of education; lucky for you, you had a pretty face. You’re in your third year of college and the student debt and bills aren’t going away, but the money is. You’ve been a sugar baby after in your first year of University you realized you weren’t going to be able to make it to the next semester.

You’ve had a hand few of sugar daddies, all disgusting men, you’ve tried to avoid the ones with wives (you on no account wanted to be a home-wrecker) but men lie. Cheat. Steal. It couldn’t be avoided, especially in your type of business.

Message: Car’s out front, don’t keep me waiting.

You peer out your window, a black sleek jeep Range Rover waiting outside. You give yourself a one last glance over, pleased, you grab your bag and head down to the street. The driver opens the door for you and as you slide into the leather seats, you see a gift bag, signed your name- well not your real name, your work name. Asta.

As the car begins, you grab the gift bag and peer inside. Red leathery lingerie. There’s no note, the implications are obvious.

You put up with this, will all of it, because they pay was not just well, it was extraordinary, but not just that. The designer clothes, the Michelin star restaurants, the exposure and connection to people of wealth and power… these people may be scum, but hell, do they know how to live.

This man particularly was scum.

But oh, did Mr.Scum please. For example, tonight is a charity gala, and as the pretty piece of arm candy you are, you get to reap all the benefits of the event.

The car stops in front of a very traditional Japanese home, it may seem traditional, but don’t let its humble bamboo full you. The house was easily more than 3.5 Million dollars. As the car pulls up, the man of the hour appears out the front door of his house. He doesn’t come on the drives to pick you up- his fear of people seeing him in that type of neighborhood threatens his ego and reputation.

He gets in to your left, and nods to the driver from the rear view mirror.

“What do you think of your gift?” He asks as he sits back in the seat. Two piece Prada suit, blue and grey. His cologne was deep and dark, amber and leather.

“Red, and leather. Seems to be your two signature pieces, Sir.” You feel him looking you over, his flaming beared burning just a tad bit brighter. “That, and flames.”

He huffs with a small smirk, leaning back and a thick forearm going over your shoulder. “They are, aren’t they?”

Despite the tinted glass of the windows, you could still make out the flashes from the paparazzi cameras as the car pulls up to the event. The biggest gala of the year in Japan. Every ProHero on the top 60 rank chart would be here, every member of the Hero Public Safety Commissions would be in attendance, Politics and Country Diplomats; and then you.

As Enji steps out the car and opens your door, you’re suddenly exposed to the loud hustle of the rich, powerful and famous. He holds his arm out for you to hold, and with grace take it as you step out the car.

Immediately questions were yelled towards the two of you. Everyone wanted to know who the young, pretty, new women was that ProHero Endeavor had been parading- especially after his very public divorce with his, now Ex-Wife, only five months ago.

He ignored them all, and with a stern face and heavy footing, you both entered the venue where the event was taken place. Music for ambience, and chatter, with occasional clinking of champagne flutes, and wine glasses.

To your left appeared a waiter, with a tablet full of names and a copy of the venue layout. “Mr.Endeavor! Welcome, please follow me to your table.”

As you walk between tables and chairs of the guests, there isn’t one face you haven’t seen on your T.V. before. Your eye especially catches the table seated with the newest, yet biggest names in the ProHero seen. Five years fresh of UA, the top climbing Hero’s, you remember watching them when you were younger during there UA summer festival. Uravity, Red Riot, Dynamite, Ingenium, Cellophane, Creati, among them, of course Deku.

“Here you are, I hope you enjoy the evening and remember- be generous with tonight’s spending. It is a charity event after all.” The waiter says leaving you two to your table. Enji groans at who he’s seated with, but plops himself down all the same, you seating next to him.

“Look at this! Endeavor with a date? I suddenly feel guilty for not bringing my own plus one.” Hawks, though also known as Keigo remakes with a smirk.

“Don’t speak as if she is not there.” Tsunagu (Best Jeanist) chides Keigo. He turns to you. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss…?”

“Asta, and the pleasure is all mine.” You say polite smile as you bow forward (best you can while seated at a table.)

“Don’t get too acquainted.” Enji grumbles as from under the table his hand goes to rest on your thigh.

“God, lighten up, Ej. You’re so tense, I can sense it from this side of the table.” Keigo signals down a waiter, “Bring us three shots please!”

“I am not going to be taking shots.” Tsunagu groans.

“Nor am I.”

“Who told you any of those were for you?” Keigo quips.

The waiter nods with the order before leaving. You watch with your eyes as he goes to the bar, before turning to Enji. “I’m going to get us some Champagne,” You say standing.

“Alright then, just don’t get lost,” he tells you. Enji was possessive. By lost, he meant, don’t go mingling with others. Because not only was it a secrete that he was paying you for your time. It was also illegal for by law for ProHero’s to do so.

You give him a nod, before leaning down and giving him a kiss. This was your job this is what you got paid for. The show, your performance. His hand cradles your jaw as he wills your mouth to open enough for his tongue to push into your mouth. This has been an arrangement for a couple of weeks, you well knew your role.

He pulls away, and with a nod of his head, he sends you off. Staring at your ass as you walk over to the bar.

Keigo whistles, “Woah... I’m both incredibly disgusted, and thoroughly jealous.”

“I’m just disgusted.”

Enji rolls his eyes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand for broken strings of saliva. His lips now a hue darker thanks to your lips stick. He didn’t show it, but he internally grinned at the remarks of jealousy. Enji Todoroki had play under the table for many reasons, but paying for sweet and intoxicating thing like you, has had to be the best.

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

➳ Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

➳ Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader — I deleted the previous one.

♡ Touya / Fem Reader

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.

You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.

Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.

You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.

The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.

You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.

“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.

Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.

The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.

It definitely does not turn you on.

Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.

It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.

Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.

A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy. 

Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out. 

Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye. 

“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.

[bkglovergirl]

♡𓂃Water guns

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲Aizawa gives you and katsuki a second chance and with that it leads to a downward spiral of things.

Word count; 4.4k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“I’m giving you two a second chance.” Aizawa is in front of you and Katsuki, holding your hero suits. Katsuki had gone to Aizawa privately and asked for the second scenario, claiming he trusted you and that this whole situation wasn't on you. He threatened Aizawa not to tell you he went to him before Aizawa threw him out of the room. “A pair from class 1B is the villain. You won’t get to know who the pair is and this training is taken place in a facility outside of the school.” He tosses the cases at you. “Get changed and we’ll head over to the facility.” 

All of class 1A steps off the bus. Everyone is here so Aizawa can prove a point. Mess up and ask for a chance. The entire class has to be behind for you guys to get that chance. You and Katsuki are in your suits and so is everyone else, Aizawa is not so mean and is letting others train if you and Katuski get this done quickly. This facility is owned by Endeavor, it has everything you can possibly imagine as he needed to be the best at this as well. You and Katsuki are set up in a house? “What the hell.” You look around. “Okay, we need to set up a plan. We have no idea who these people are and this domain.”

“Let’s just fuckin run out there!”

“No dumbass!” the peace that you and Katsuki created for a moment is shattered as you two bicker back and forth for God knows how long. “What’s that smell?” You look around frantically, have the “villains” already found you both? Do they have an advantage because of Aizawa that you don’t know about? 

“Blue flames?” You look at Katsuki and follow his eyes. Blue flames are slowly swallowing the door. Smoke fills the room quickly, and you panic, having a coughing attack.

“Are they trying to kill us?! They are taking this way too seriously!” Katsuki grabs your hand and you quickly tighten your grip, He brings you up the stairs and breaks open a window. “We are not paying for that.” you joke but quickly shut up as bakugou lets go and jumps out the window. You look out, “What the hell?!”

“Jump!”

“No what the fuck!”

“Jump, I’ll catch you!” You jump, shut your eyes, and jump. He catches you. “Why are your eyes closed?” You look at him and laugh. “Y/N, you are so stupid.” He blushes. 

“Ok put me down.” you look back at the house while he puts you down slowly, “Holy shit ten more seconds and we would have been flamed... Katsuki you don’t think…?”

“I don’t know, it’s Endeavor. This is a pretty good-built facility.” An alarm goes off and a big slamming sound is heard on the other side of the training area. “Fuck!” You both run quickly toward the sound before a wall of blue flames becomes between you and Katsuki. You look around frantically before seeing a man standing on top of a building. He has black hair and purple bruising all over his skin. Is he smiling at you? “Y/N?!”

“I’m okay!” the man laughs, jumping off the building and landing close to you. The blue flames start growing closer to you. He’s mumbling something along the lines of distracting you away from the rest, and this will be an easy kill. You take a deep breath and grow a longleaf pine under you and Katsuki, it brings you both up above the fire and lets you jump onto a building and you run. You see debris and smoke on the other side, it'll take under a minute to get there, “So close…” you mutter. A scorching burn rises up your arm. He got your right arm. You quickly wrap it in a longleaf pine, it won’t stop the pain but it will stop the fire. Your path gets blocked again by blue flames. “Fuck!” You are getting way too dehydrated and dizzy which means you are gonna struggle to use your quirk. 

“Y/N!” 

“Go help the others and then come get me!” Katsuki for the first time hesitates, and he doesn't like that. He listens to you and runs to the others, his heart beating faster than it ever has. Smoke fills your lungs, and you look around for the villain. He stands in front of you a couple of feet away with the same smile. 

“I’ll make it easier on him and make sure there isn't anything he has to come back for.” Flames come your way, and you make a shield; it withers just a little enough to burn your cheek. 

“Fuck.” you move and run. It’s just straight-up fire and smoke. It’s hurting your lungs. It’s hurting your plants which means you have a useless quirk. “I’m going to die…” You mutter. You are still running toward the group and you see Shoto in the distance. You see Katsuki behind him and smile before you feel a wave of heat. You don’t know what happened but you blacked out. Katsuki watches as flames engulf you. He freezes. He watches as Todoroki and Midoriya run towards you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

All you hear is beeping, talking, and silence. You can’t see anything, so all you can do is listen. You can’t understand the voices that come around every once in a while, it’s all blurry. Eventually, you open your eyes. “She’s Awake! Aizawa she’s awake!”

“Loud...” you mutter as your eyes get used to the bright light. Then, you see a blurry figure with green hair walks out of the room. You feel the warmth on your hand and you slowly look down. Your right arm is covered in bandages and someone is holding your hand. You look back up and see Shoto. He’s smiling at you softly, it looks like he hasn't slept in days. Midoriya walks back in with Aizawa and Katsuki. Katsuki walks up to you quickly, his face is flushed and he’s breathing heavily. He looks at you and Todoroki and stops moving. Aizawa walks up to you and sighs.

“It’s always something with you.” You let out a small laugh but stop quickly once it hurts. “Do you remember anything?” You look over your body. Your legs are also covered in bandages, and you can feel the uncomfortable bandages on your cheek and chest. 

“The fight that happened today? Some um… Villains?” You feel Shoto squeeze your hand softly. “And I guess I got hit.”

“Y/N that attack happened over two weeks ago,” Aizawa admits. You notice all the boys look at you worriedly except for Katsuki, he’s looking down.

“What?” “You are correct you did get badly hurt, but that attack happened two weeks ago. Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki all have been taking turns watching over you and some of your classmates have been stopping by and also taking care of you. You kept stirring but… You never fully woke up. We got concerned you um… never would.” With that Aizawa brings his hand to his face and he continues to speak. “You have severe wounds. The ones on your cheek, chest, and arms will leave scaring. Your legs we aren't certain if they will yet.” He looks around at the boys and then looks back at you. “I’m happy you're safe. I’ll come back to check on you with the nurse later.” he walks out and you hear him sniffle. You smile and give your attention back to the boys. Midoriya is the first to speak.

“We were so worried about you… I thought… Never mind that!” he smiles. I should go tell the other!” He runs out. Shoto is next to speak, and unbeknownst to him, he had cut off Katsuki from speaking. 

“I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. The villain that attacked you knows me and my family… and he got word of the training and you… with how close we are he figured you were an easy target… I am so sorry!” he slowly picks up your hand and kisses your knuckle then slowly rests his forehead on your hand. “Please forgive me. Please.”

“Of course Shoto…” You smile. “This isn't your fault, I don't blame you, and see I’m okay!” you regret raising your voice but whatever you have to do for Shoto. Shoto picks his head back up and gives you an unconvincing look. “Shoto please believe me. I am okay.” you both stare at each other before Shoto finally smiles. Katsuki coughs interrupting the moment. “Shoto you should go get some rest and food.” he goes to interject but you stop him, “Come visit me after but go take care of yourself please.” He nods and stands up. Walking out he gives a glare to Bakugou and exits the room. You look at Katsuki. He doesn't look at you. “So… guess I have to make up all the meals I couldn't make you the past two weeks.” You joke and laugh, He doesn't laugh and you sit up reaching for him. 

“Stop doing that!” He gets close to you and grabs your hand, laying you back down. You look at him confused. “Stop acting like everything is perfectly fine! You almost died for fuck sake!” he sits down on the bed looking at you. “It’s not okay.”

“Katsuki…”

“I could have lost you then what?!” You winch and he slumps. 

“I’m alive and awake now, so let’s not dwell on what could have happened, okay?” Katsuki stares at you, and your heart skips a beat. Slowly, he leans down and places his hand on the cheek that has the bandage. He rubs his thumb over it slowly before kissing you. You are surprised, obviously, but you kiss back. He’s just as surprised as you are with the fact he kissed you and the fact you kissed back. You go to sit up to lean into him more but winch from the pain, causing him to move away breaking the kiss. “Katsuki…”

“Guys, look!” Katsuki moves away from the bed completely, and the class piles into the room after Midoriya. You smile at them, and they smile at you. Katsuki leaves the room.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

After a few days, you are able to go back to the dorm room and go back to your normal life besides the obvious scaring on your body and the sharp pain you get sometimes. Shoto helped you get back into your dorm. “I can open the door myself, you weirdo.”

“Why won’t you let me help you.” He opens the door.

“Because if you are going to help me, I’ll complain to feel less guilty.” You smile before laughing. You walk into your dorm, and he follows. Katsuki is sitting on the couch, looking at you both. His arms are crossed. “God, Dad, he brought me home on time.” You joke, but clearly, he could care less about your jokes. Shoto doesn't get the hint of Katsuki’s annoyance and walks into your kitchen. 

“What do you want? I’ll make you lunch.”

“I can make her lunch. I am her husband after all.” He stands up.

“A good husband would already have food ready for her and would have gotten her from the nurse's room.” Katsuki pauses for a moment. He’s stunned. “So Y/N what would you want?” you look between Shoto and Katsuki before walking into the kitchen. Katsuki takes that as you choosing Shoto and his throat burns and his stomach nots. He’s fuming and all he can manage is walking into his room and slamming the door. “Such a baby.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s like Todoroki is doing this on purpose. For the past week he’s done nothing but be a wedge between him and you and it’s pissing Katsuki off. He’s trying to do this for you but Todoroki is always just one step ahead. Katsuki is known to be angry the majority of the time but this feels different. It fueling each minute and he feels like he’s about to burst. He tries taking it out during training but it eases only for a second and this confuses Katsuki. In the past it’s always worked for him so why the fuck isn't it working now?! He grabs his towel and wipes his face before getting himself a sip of water. He takes a deep breath. Why isn't this working? He hears a familiar laugh and looks around. He sees you and of fucking course Todo fucking roki. He puts down his water bottle and towel. He rushes out of the training room and goes up to you both. “The fuck are you guys doing together? Again.” You go to explain but Shoto stops you. Katsuki doesn't like this very much.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because it fucking does?!” Seriously who does this dude think he is? “Why can’t you go bother your own wife and leave mine the fuck alone?!” 

“Why should I leave her alone? All the times you've left her alone it causes her to be endangered.”

“So it’s my fault?!” 

“You didn't get to her quick enough during our training.” Todroki points a finger at him, “And your dumbass left her during the attack so she got hurt!”

“Don’t point that finger at me! It was your dumbass family drama that caused her to get hurt in the first damn place!” With this Todoroki steps closer to him and his fire quirk is activated.

“Say’s the one who froze when we needed to go save her.” You look at Katsuki. Katsuki doesn't look at you. For the first time, Katsuki bites his cheek and walks back into the training room. With a satisfied smirk, Shoto looks at you. Your arms are crossed and you are pissed looking back at Shoto. His smirk drops. “What?” you shake your head and walk away. “What?!”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s late. You've already made dinner, and it’s starting to get cold. Shoto had brought you to the dorm against your wishes, and you slammed the door in his face in retaliation. Your guess is that Katsuki is still in the training room. You sigh, looking down at his dinner, before grabbing a blanket from the living room and walking out onto the balcony. You don’t know how much time has passed but it is quiet and the only lights outside are the streetlights. “What are you doing outside?” You flinch and look at Katsuki, he’s leaning against the door.

“It’s nice out.” 

‘The heat is on and you left the door open.” You roll your eyes and look away from him.

“I left your food on the counter.”

“Thanks.” He walks off into his bedroom, completely ignoring the food. Confused, you stand up and walk towards his bedroom, stopping him from shutting his door. 

“Excuse me?”

“You left the blanket outside and the door open.”

“Don’t ignore the obvious bullshit dude.” He just stares at you. “What is with you?! I made you dinner and you are just gonna ignore it?!”

“I’m sorry I thought you would have preferred making that shit for Shoto.” He mocks his name and you glare at him. 

“So what I do for you has been shit?” He shrugs and you drop your hand from off the door. “Whatever. I don’t know what your fucking issue is but glad to know everything I have done has been pointless.”

“Oh please we all know you wanted those points to switch and be with Todoroki.”

“Are you for real right now? All my actions have shown that's what I want?! Really?!”

“Yeah. Really.” He shuts the door in your face. You stand there astonished before cleaning up Katsuki’s dinner and putting it away in the fridge. You try to convince yourself you are only doing it to prevent food from going to waste, but the convincing doesn't work. Despite how mad you are, you want to make sure he eats okay.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

For days, you and Katsuki have ignored each other. People have asked each of you, and you respectfully shake your head no and say it’s nothing. Katsuki, on the other hand, gives them death glares. You still make food for him, and it'll go uneaten. When you give up hope that he won't eat, he eventually does, so you keep making him food. You always wondered how your family ignored each other when growing up and you never understood how they could do it so easily. You understand to an extent, that the act of ignoring each other isn't an issue. Katsuki does most of the work fully pretending you aren't even real. The mental pain of ignoring each other is affecting you more than you like and Katsuki feels the same. 

Two weeks pass, and it’s the fireworks festival. The school does this annually, putting on a grand display and making it a whole day thing. You and the girls are in Momo’s room getting ready. The girls have really been helping you during this whole situation and the bond you share now is something so important to you. “We are gonna make you look stunning Y/N! We can use all my stuff. Yes, even the very expensive stuff of course!” 

“Thanks, Momo but why would I do this for a guy who won’t even glance at me?”

“Oh, honey, this is NOT for him; it’s for you, silly!” The girls continue getting you ready. Kyoka and Ochaco work on your makeup, Mina on your hair, and Momo on the best outfit for you to wear. After a few hours, you are ready! The girls start taking pictures and start giving you compliments and in all honesty, you just wanted to go to the festival already.

“Is he gonna be there?”

“Who cares?” You did. Except you weren't going to say that. You walk up to the full-length mirror and look at yourself.

 “Do I even look good with this scar on my arm?” You’ve fully healed over the past few weeks thanks to recovery, girl, but your right arm has scarring, and you've been slightly insecure about it. Doesn't help that the outfit you are wearing shows it off completely 

“It makes you look sexy!” 

“Whatever you say, Mina.” You smile, “should we get going?”

The weather is perfect, to say the least. The school has rented out a nice park, full of flowers and trees, right next to a river, where on the other side, they’ll light the fireworks. Booths are set up for food, drinks, and fun things to do. You and the girls are going back and forth on what to do first. You watch as a few say drinks and food while others say games first. You just watch not having a strong opinion for each until someone catches your eye. Behind Momo you see Shoto waving at you, and you smile waving back. He walks towards you but halfway someone shoves into him. Katsuki keeps walking not even acknowledging what he did. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi, Shoto.” Just like how Katsuki ignores you, Shoto chooses to ignore his existence.

“Oh hey, Todoroki! Are you here with anyone?” Ochaco asks as the girls look at him.

“No.”

“I have a great idea!” This could be true or the worst thing Mina says. “We should go to one of the games, and Todoroki and Momo can battle to see who the better spouse is!”

“That’s actually not a bad idea and would be fun to watch,” Kyoka says.

“You down for joining us Shoto?” You look at him and he looks away from Momo and looks at you.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t go easy on me.” Momo smiles at him. 

“Don’t plan on it and you should pick the game.” You walk over to Ochaco and wrap your arms around hers, you guys start walking around to find a game. Momo eventually settles on ring toss, you sit down at the water gun booth to watch them. Momo and Shoto stand next to eachother with five rings each. The first round starts and of course Momo wins. “Another one.”

“Shoto we are not gonna sit here and watch until you win.”

“Yes we are Y/N shush.” And the second round starts, this time the bottles move side to side making it more difficult. You feel the presence of someone sit next to you, You ignore it at first before you hear a grumble. You look back to see a random student with his friend, you stand up quickly and apologize for being in his way.

“Don’t take up a spot if you arent gonna do anything.”

“She was waiting for me, so you gotta move it.” Katsuki puts an arm around you and you look over at the group seeing if anyone notices. You lock eyes with Ochaco and she gives you a thumbs up. The boys apologize and run off not wanting to deal with Katsuki. You take a seat again and Katsuki hands money to the stall worker and sits next to you. “One game, one winner.” you face your water gun rolling your eyes.

“Whatever you say.” It was not one game, it was six and the group stopped watching Shoto’s game and huddled around you guys. “What happened to one game!”

“You keep cheating!”

“How?” 

“You keep shooting me with water!” You laugh. 

“FUCK!” Katsuki slumps back, you stand up ad cheer. You turn to Shoto giving him a high five and turn back to Katsuki. He stares for a beat then stands up and walks off.

“What is his problem?” Mina asks, you shake your head.

“I don’t know but let’s go find Izuku.” The hours pass and for others it went by very quickly but for you it didnt. The whole time you spent looking around for Katsuki and you couldnt find him. 

“Hurry up lets go find the perfect spot!” The fireworks start in fifteen and honestly you werent feeling it anymore.

“I think I’m just gonna go back to the dorm guys..” you were met with a lot of disergrement. 

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“Yeah I’m not feeling well.” You lie.

“Oh let me walk you back.” Shoto goes to grab your arm but you step back, “No it’s okay. Stay.” You give them all a smile, say your goodbyes and walk back.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Katsuki?” Nothing. You sigh and shut your dorm door. Luckly for you, your dorm faces right where they are gonna be setting off fireworks. You brush out your hair and walk to your balcony. “Cold…” you mumble shutting the sliding door and resting your body on the railing. You do the math in your head, it took you five minutes to get back here so that means itll be about ten minutes until they start. After some time you hear the sliding door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I can’t be in my own dorm now?”

“You should be out with your friends at the festival, not here.” You don’t say anything and Katsuki stands next to you, You glance at him.

“Why are you shirtless?”

“Because my wife wouldnt stop splashing me with water.”

“Stop Katsuki. I’m over this back and forth of you being mad and then not.”

“And I’m over Todoroki getting all your fucking attention. Piece it togehter Y/N.” You look at him fully.

“Me piece it together? I shouldnt have to do that? Why can’t you tell me straight up? You are so bold and loud but for some reason between us you shut down completely. It’s ridiculous.”

“Have you ever thought for one second why?”

“You rejected me Katsuki. In middle school, it was a full on embarrassment. Sorry I wasnt jumping to conclusions.”

“We were in middle school.”

“You made fucking rules when I tried getting you to take this simulation seriously.”

“Why’d you smile at Todoroki. You face him fully.

“What the fuck are you on about.” He faces you, he is red.

“During the Villian attack when you were close to the main group, you saw Todoroki and instantly smiled once you saw him.” 

“No I didnt?” You crossed your arms. Katsuki puts one hand on the railing and squeezes it. 

“Yes you did Y/N I watched you.”

“I smiled because I saw you.” his hand untenses.

“Yes Dumbass, I smiled because I saw you before I almost got killed by flames.” His hand tightens again. “What?” he stays silent so you repeat yourself again. “What?”

“For the first time I hesitated in battle.”

“So?”

“Because I thought I…” he pauses and looks down. “I thought I just watched you die and I couldn't, my brain couldnt comprehend it. For a split second all logic was out the window.”

“Where you ignoring me because of that?”

“I was ashamed.” He looks back up at you. “There goes fucking Todoroki and Deku running and there I was, frozen. Even if it was only for a second. It was a second to long. I don’t like what you do to me.” A boom goes off and the fireworks start up. The sky is full of assortment of colors. You and Katsuki both look. “I love you Y/N.” He says it not thinking you’d hear him and after this whole thing he can go back into the ignoring routine you guys established.

“I love you too.” Katsuki looks at you and you don’t look at him. He grabs your right arm and stops his movement. He stares at the scarring on your arm. You look at him before removing your arm from his hand and hug him. He squeezes you tightly before letting go and facing the railing. “You ignore me like that again and I’ll kill you.” He hugs you from behind.

“Mhm..”

“I’m serious Katsuki.” He kisses your cheek. “Fuck these fireworks.” You turn your body to face katsuki and look up at him, He looks down at you. “Kiss me.” He stares at you for a minute. “Katsuki I swear-” He cuts you off and kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck, and with that, he picks you up and sits you on the railing. You wrap your legs around his waist and deepen the kiss.

Tags;

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg @kukikoooo @musicbecky @mia-luvs @yoyolovesdaiki @onlykarenkun @gina239

[haine-kleine]

dunno if I should call this a headcanon or a theory and I know Horikoshi just went with what looked cool but the more I think about Dabi's initial design when he came to the League in the context of what we learned about him and what we saw happen to him during the second war, the less sense it makes that his body was already in that state.

according to the anime, he was learning by watching Endeavor's videos online. before Sekoto, he wasn't learning from any source at all and went about his training intuitively, but after Sekoto I strongly doubt he would be actively practicing his quirk, for a multitude of reasons. his body was still healing from the skin transplantation, the trauma associated with accidentally burning himself to death, plainly not having a place to train a fire quirk, which tend to be flashy and to use your quirk in public, having a provisional license is required, otherwise he risks getting arrested. he did a very good job staying out of the public's eye for the 7 years since he escaped AFO, who was also implied to be unaware of Touya surviving for so long.

so as far as we know, all he did for those 7 years is lay low and be very online. which makes his remark to Spinner hilarious ngl, at least Spinner sprung up to action as soon as he saw something that had inspired him, while Dabi had spent 7 whole years sitting on his very personal trauma and not going to therapy.

when Giran brings him to Shigaraki, he doesn't share any information about Dabi save for him being very invested in Stain's ideology. no criminal records, maybe, but not even a word of his absurdly strong quirk? no mentions of arson at all? they did discuss Toga making it to the news, so Dabi being left out like that was a bit weird in the context of the conversation, like him seeking out Stain's contacts was enough reason to let him join the League. he won't be useful to you, Shigaraki, but he's got the spirit. please take him in, he has nowhere else to go?

if you really look at the way Dabi uses his quirk until MVA, it's noticeable how he seems to have no idea what he is doing. there's no technique, no finesse to his moves, just throwing out huge blasts of fire with his hands and hoping for the threat to leave him alone.

when Shigaraki attacked him (fully provoked) his reaction was too slow to summon any flames at all, and if it weren't for Kurogiri, that would have been it for Dabi.

When he is fighting Geten and starts going beyond his limit, he scares himself with the increased fire output. because, yup, overusing his quirk by accident was the source of his trauma.

the databook puts his technique as the weakest of his stats. his power is huge and eventually allowed him to become the strongest fire quirk user in the BNHA universe, but his technique was extremely lacking.

all of the above just doesn't paint the picture of someone who has been consistently mastering his quirk for 7 years. rather, it gives the picture of someone who had just started using his quirk for the first time in years, having background training from his childhood.

it's not even that Dabi isn't hardworking as hell or doesn't have the potential to be trained, because he's a complete opposite. continuously going beyond his limit, despite his own body getting in his way, mastering Enji and Shouto's complicated techniques they have worked for weeks/months/years on in a matter of minutes after just observing it. surely, he has been watching Enji and learning the way his father uses his quirk for years, but putting theory to practice? i doubt he even had the chance, before joining LOV.

he had to wait, because starting to actively use his quirk sets the clock into motion, counting down the time he has left. he is like a candle, destroying himself with his fire, until nothing is left at all. he had to make sure his plan of revenge will have a chance to succeed before fully committing to the 'Dabi' route, a slow and agonizing process of cremating himself by continuously using his quirk. because when he really starts using his quirk for long stretches of time? this is what happens to him.

to conclude this post, I know why the final design was chosen (because it's cool as fuck) but after analyzing the crucial points of Touya's story and his relationship with his quirk, I really think him joining the League with post-coma design would have made more sense. once he had started really using his quirk, his body would slowly degrade to the state Dabi's was in, because his fire literally melts his skin. but his body already having 40% surface third degree burns, when he didn't even use his quirk the entire time, perfectly holding up up until the first war arc and then quickly starting to burn down? idk, seems a bit inconsistent?..

anyway, i love the concept of Dabi's skin slowly and inevitably burning down after he had joined the League. him losing more and more skin until there's barely anything left, when he reveals himself to his father and is bitter at the lack of recognition, because burning himself to the point of being unrecognizable was one of the many sacrifices he had made to be finally seen by Endeavor.

also, more of this. because this was bittersweet as hell

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: frenemies to lovers, Cloud's memory problems, reader is an assassin, smut, porn WITH plot

Final Word Count: 9k

Plot summary: A mercenary and an assassin walk into a bar. They bicker, have sex, then go home and freak out about it. The whole thing feels like it should be a joke, but it isn't— and no matter how bad it hurts, they keep coming back for more.

ao3 link

“Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table…”

The entrance to Hell's Maw yawned lazily open, with the wooden door leaning crookedly off of its hinges. The door— made of sturdy oak— had held up well against bar fights between mercenaries, master thieves, and assassins for over a decade; it was riddled with holes from unsuccessful knifings and stray bullets, and sported faint airbrushings of blood from more successful endeavors of the same sort. Really, the agency ought to have replaced it by now as a favor to the bar for letting its employees regularly trash the place— but those stingy bastards couldn't be bothered with anything outside of making money off the hard labor of people bigger, meaner, and certainly more deadly than themselves, and so the door remained as it was.

Fondly, you patted the door as you passed it; the little creak it gave felt like a 'thank you,' and you smiled as you slipped inside the building, largely unnoticed by the Friday night crowd.  

Despite its name, Hell's Maw was a cozy, comfortable establishment. There were large, comfortable booths lining the walls, the fabric of their green seats cracked and slightly worn in the middle; a few pool tables with green felt were nestled comfortably in the middle of the room. There was always something soft and smooth playing from the jukebox in the corner, and the lighting was dim enough to feel gentle and ambient, but bright enough that a girl didn't feel the need to squint at her plate for deformed food. 

Tonight, a few familiar faces were gathered around the pool tables, holding cues that had been haphazardly duct taped back together a few times. The quiet buzz of conversation was a comforting lull, and there was a pleasant smell drifting out from the kitchen that had you sighing at the thought of a warm meal. 

Home sweet home, you thought, smiling as you took in the scene. 

"Evening, Kitty," you greeted one of the servers as she passed by. "What's the special tonight?"

Kitty was a short, pleasantly plump woman with a freckled face and flaming hair. To look at her, you'd never know that she spent her evenings catering to smugglers, tramps, thieves, and worse— but she was as strong as she was beautiful, so generally speaking, she got whatever she wanted out of Hell's Maw's regular patrons.

"Shepherd's pie," said the waitress, grinning back as she bussed a table, "but your friend over there is putting everyone off their dinner with that sour look on his face. It's a wonder anyone can keep their drinks down, what with his mean-mugging."

You followed Kitty's gaze to the bar, where a familiar shock of blond hair glowed honey-golden in the incandescent lighting. 

To your credit, you tried hard to stifle your laugh. 

Sitting on what you had come to think of as your barstool, Cloud Strife looked even more brooding and mysterious than usual. A glass of his choice poison— lemon water with a pinch of mint— was sitting untouched on the mahogany wood in front of him. As he sat there, glaring at his glass, he seemed so miserable that you couldn't even be mad at him for stealing her seat. 

Alas, despite your efforts, the sight earned a giggle.

"He looks to be in a fine temper," you noted slyly, wagging your eyes at Kitty.

Kitty huffed.

"He looks like he's swallowed a hornet's nest."

You laughed again. 

"I'd best go see what he wants, then," you said. "If it's any comfort to you, I can't imagine he'll stay very long."

"Oh, he's no trouble," said Kitty mischievously. "As for myself, don't care what face he makes when he's got a face like that."

You giggled. He really was handsome, that bastard. 

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that. Later, Kitty."

"Later," said Kitty with her signature wink. 

As you approached the bar, you wondered at Cloud's presence there. It was a rare day that he arrived at the bar before you, and even rarer that he should be waiting for you and not sitting in a booth with a friend— an actual friend— or chatting up some girl at the pool tables. You couldn't recall a time when he'd been this forward with his presence at your little meeting place, and you'd be lying if you said the newness of it all didn't set you on edge. 

Cloud Strife in general set you on edge. 

"Hello, first class," you greeted him, smiling.

As he turned to acknowledge you, you slid gracefully into the seat next to him, signaling to the bartender for a little something sweet and strong. 

"Cutthroat," he returned without malice. 

You turned your best pout on him. 

"Now, now, you're being uncharitable. You're in my seat, and I haven't even considered cutting your throat." You thought for a moment. "Well, until now at least " 

He raised a brow, in a moment both teasing and deadly.

"If it's any consolation, though, it's more of a scientific interest than anything," you added as an afterthought. "It's not often that I get contracts for anyone like a SOLDIER, you know."

Blue-ringed green peered at you with familiar, friendly distaste. 

"I'm not stupid enough to be one of your marks," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "I think with my upstairs head, which is more than I can say for the guys you get paid to kill."

It was a bit naive of him to assume such a thing. No man was above being one of your marks.

"Then praise be that the world isn't full of good, right-honorable ex-SOLDIERs like you," you shot sweetly back at him. "Poor little me would be out of a job."

Cloud let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, then sobered and stared moodily into his glass of water.  He looked like a petulant child who'd been sent to his room as punishment. 

"Come on, why so sour?" you prodded, trying to keep your tone teasing. "Did you get turned down this evening before I got here? If so, I'm sure the pretty brunette in the corner would go home with you— she's been staring at you since I walked in."

He scowled.

"Why does it always have to be about sex with you?" he snapped as the bartender handed you your glass of fruity bliss. "Are the men you seduce to kill not doing it for you anymore?"

You took the insult in stride.

"Why?" you challenged, leaning forward, eyes flicking up to meet his. "Curious?"

Cloud was the first to look away.

Somehow, it was always this. He would come to you in moments of woundedness or weakness and pick a fight that he couldn’t finish. Fights about work, fights about drinks, fights about the sex that neither of you were having, and fights about fighting just for fighting's sake— too often, you found yourselves here, in this endless cycle of strange and hateful amicability. Why, you didn't know— but it wasn't like that was going to stop you from playing your little game.

"Why are you in my seat?" You began again, changing tactics. "You know that's my seat. I'm fairly certain the groove of my ass cheeks are worn into the shape of it by now."

"Wanted to be," he replied with a little shrug of powerful shoulders. "It's a nice seat. Got a problem with it?"

You hummed, sipping from your drink.

"Not at all. Just curious as to what's wrong with you today."

Cloud cut his eyes at you. 

"Who says there's something wrong with me?"

"Oh, there's something wrong with everyone here. The fact that you're picking a fight with me today is especially telling, though."

"Not picking a fight," he grumbled.

"Of course not," you replied, placating. "Now— would you like to tell me what's on your mind, or should I try and guess?"

Cloud stayed silent, but took another drink from his minty lemon water. 

Guessing it was, then. 

"Don't know which girl to pick again?" you scanned the bar. There were plenty of Cloud's type there— sweet innocents that looked like they needed protecting. "I can help like last time. Blondie by the pool table has got great tits and a sweet smile, but she'll want to do it missionary the whole time. The brunette I was talking about earlier is probably a bit kinkier, if that's what you're i—"

Cloud moved to get up, disgusted. 

Wrong guess, then. 

"I'm teasing," you told him, tugging his arm. "Sit down, drama queen."

Cloud eyed you warily, but reluctantly sat back down. 

"You know," you said gently, "this would be easier if you could just tell me what's going on."

Cloud's expression shuttered closed. It was as if a mask had dropped into place over his features, locking them into a single blank expression. 

"Nothing's going on. I told you, I'm fine."

You were beginning to feel frustrated. Hell's Maw was a haven for damaged colleagues of a hellacious profession. Most of them came for one of two reasons: to have sex, or to play house in a place where the job didn't matter. Cloud was the former, you were the latter. You fulfilled his need to banter and blow off steam, and he fulfilled your need to care and watch out for someone. It wasn't like you were friends. Currently, he wasn’t fulfilling your needs, and you weren't fulfilling his— so why were either of you even there?

"You're a shit liar, Cloud Strife," you huffed. "If all you're going to do is act like an ass, then you can get out of my seat and find someone else to abuse with your presence."

He shook his head.

"I doubt someone like you could understand."

You leaned back in your seat. An odd hurt pierced your chest. 

You knew your lives were different. You knew he disapproved of yours. That was an old fight that had already scabbed over into little more than scars on your psyche; but if he wanted to pick it until it bled once more, you would indulge him with scratches of your own.

"Someone like me," you repeated, the words bitter as lye soap in your mouth. “Tell me, Cloud— what, exactly, do you think I am?”

You stared deeply into his eyes, challenging him. As you did so, you noted the mako-greenish tinge in the center of his iris, and not for the first time, the weight of your secret pulsed within you, threatening to fizzle out from you in white-hot sparks.

“I think you’re a murderer,” he told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re a contract killer, and what’s worse, you use your body to lure men to their deaths like some kind of demented, two-bit—”

You had heard these words before. Refusing to hear them again, you drew back your hand and made to strike him; you didn’t get far, though, before Cloud’s SOLDIER reflexes proved their worth and caught your hand before the slap could land. Even through his glove, you could feel the mako beneath his skin, and you shivered.

“I told you before,” you said, speaking carefully, willing control to return to you. “Don’t call me a whore ever again. If you do, it will be the last word you say.”

Gently, you nudged the blade in your other hand against his ribs, and he flinched backwards, apparently not having seen or anticipated the movement despite the obvious distraction of the slap.

“I don’t have to say it,” he replied calmly, tightening his grip on your wrist. “You put the words in my mouth, so if the shoe fits, then fucking wear it.”

The flow of mako within him was strong, pulling at you physically like the opposite side of a magnet. A breath, then two, and it was under control— but those words cut deep. Hearing them from someone like Cloud cut even deeper. 

"You know what, I don't have to take this from you," you said, trying to take your arm back. He didn’t let you, instead holding you fast against your will. Feeling vengeful, you added, "Especially not when you're such a hypocrite."

Cloud's expression was impassive, marble-esque, but the hardening of his eyes told you that you'd hit the mark.

"Excuse me?"

You smirked. 

"What, you think I don't know what you get up to around here? How you fuck around with these girls and that pretty barmaid at Seventh Heaven? And yet you think I’m the whore? Get a grip, man." 

"What?"

There it was— hurt and indignation that mirrored your own flashed in his eyes, and you knew you had him.

"Oh, you heard me," you said, tilting your head like another girl might for a kiss. "I'd bet top dollar that your big-titty Tifa would give her right arm to play housewife for you, and you play right along with her, the poor thing. Does she know you come here every week for an easy lay?"

Cloud snarled, enraged, and roughly threw your wrist away from himself as though disgusted.  

"I've never touched Tifa!"

You grinned wryly, massaging your wrist, and said,

"And don't you know it kills her?"

It occurred to you then that you might have gone a bit too far. Cloud's hands were balled into white-knuckled fists, and he looked as if he might hit you. A moment of tense silence swept over the both of you, a tug of war of will-he-won't-he between you— and then as he always did when it came to matters of the heart, Cloud Strife took the easy way out. 

He turned away. 

"Coming here was a fucking mistake," he growled, fitting that giant, way-too-Freudian sword to his lean, muscled back. "I don't know why I fucking bothered— of course you wouldn’t take this conversation seriously."

"What conversation?" you shot back. "If you think shit-talking me to my face is a conversation, you've got bigger problems than leading some girl on."

He rounded on you.

"I'm not leading anyone on. I don't feel for Tifa like that and she knows it."

You arched a brow. "Oh, so you've told her?"

Cloud faltered.

"Well— no."

"Then is she just supposed to guess?"

Cloud scowled, no doubt ready to double down on his point— but you, suddenly conscious of the setting and the kind of hurt it would cause if talk like that got back to Seventh Heaven, moved closer and said seriously,

"That girl loves you. Everyone from here to topside knows except you. You break her heart, and I feel for her. Every woman has cried the tears she cries for you— most are just smart enough to cut thoughtless, careless bastards like you off."

Cloud shook his head, expression closed. 

"No way. Tifa's smarter than that."

You smiled, though it ached.

"No woman is," you told him gently. "Love is our gift, and our curse."

"You're full of shit."

Ah, that was it, then. Once he began to resort to blind insults, you knew you'd won.

"No, I'm right, and it bothers you— and you know what else I think?"

Cloud folded his arms.

"Can I pay you not to tell me?"

You ignored him. 

"I think that you think I should be as tortured and as guilty as you feel, and it bothers you even more that I'm not. I understand this world, live in it, accept it, and so you believe that I am just as bad as everyone else in this stupid bar. And that, Cloud, is why you’re here right now, so let me give you this piece of wisdom."

You caught his arm again as he tried to turn away, feeling the warmth of him beneath your hand. 

"I have no guilt, and I have no shame. It is the world who should be ashamed for having need of me. Of having need of us."

In that moment, you found yourself nose-to-nose with Cloud, sharing his breath. His eyes— his beautiful eyes— were trained on yours, calculating, analytical. His breath smelled of lemon. You wanted to taste the sourness of it from his lips, feel the burn of its acid in your split lip.

"Don't be ashamed," you murmured, forcing your eyes to return to meet his gaze. "You are what they made you, but you survived. Never, ever be ashamed."

The place where the skin of your palm met the skin of his forearm burned with electric warmth. You found that touching this prickly, untouchable man felt like holding a live wire. From the very beginning, you had known that Cloud Strife was a powerhouse, a living weapon; somehow, though, you had neglected to realize what kind of power he had over you before this skin-to-skin contact. 

After a moment, something dawned on you, and you were horrified. Just like Tifa, just like every woman watching them and seething with jealousy, you wanted him. 

"I hate you," he said, but moved closer. "I hate how easily you justify this life."

"I accept your hate," you said, "but you can't deny what I've said is true."

"I hate that too." He moved his arm away from your hand, bringing his hand up to touch your neck, his thumb resting in the hollow of your throat. He could easily kill you, even with your knife still at his ribs. You fought against the urge to close your eyes and let the sensation of it consume you. 

"I do wonder why you came here then," you mused softly, "why you're bothering with talking to me when you could take one of these little fawns home with you."

"I don't want them," he said almost distractedly, his eyes dark and intense on yours. "At best, they're a means to an end."

This was news to you. You'd watched him take them home night after night like clockwork. 

"Then what do you want?"

He never once broke his gaze with you. You never even saw him blink.

"Would that I knew."

Cloud tilted his head. You thought you had imagined it, until his nose bumped yours. 

Was this what he had come here for?

You weren't sure. Either way, he lingered back, unwilling to close the distance. If you wanted to kiss him, you would have to choose it for yourself; if you wanted him, you had to make the active, conscious choice to cut yourself on his edge, and take the pain that would come with it. 

You weighed the costs, found them worthy. You leaned forward, closing the gap, and let him kiss you.

Oh, what a kiss. 

The act itself was simple. It was only the touching of flesh, soft and surprisingly gentle. The mako-power under his skin pulsed against the places where you touched— your lips, his hand at your throat, your palm against his bicep— and a powerful twinge of want jerked the nerves between your legs, wanting, needing more. 

Distantly, it occurred to you that if any of the kisses you'd shared with your marks had been like this, you would have been the one lying dead at the end of it all. 

"Do you want to leave?" you asked once your lips had parted from his.  

"Depends on where you want to go," he said, nose still brushing yours. "I'm not interested in going back to mine."

Of course not, you thought bitterly. Tifa might see. 

Ego bruised, you decided to play the game. 

"Who said we were going to anyone's place?" You hummed, your lashes lowered. "An alleyway might work just as well for what you have in mind."

Cloud's eyes darkened further at that. 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Filthy sex in a back alley where anyone could see." He scoffed, pupils dilated. "Disgusting."

He went in for another kiss, and you stepped back. 

"Who said anything about sex, either?" you teased, eyeing him up and down. "Just 'cause your usual crowd lets you take what you want doesn't mean I will. Not everyone wants Shinra’s sloppy seconds."

Cloud frowned.

"Don't fuck with me," he said, deadly serious. "I don't take that shit well."

At that, you softened. Perhaps that had been a bit too far. There was clearly some amount of bad blood between this particular SOLDIER and Shinra, and you had poked that bruise knowingly.

"I'm sorry," you said, sincere. "It was wrong of me to tease you."

You extended your hand.

"Come on. We'll go to my place."

For a moment, you didn't think he'd take it— but eventually, he placed his hand in your own and let you lead him away from Hell's Maw. 

On your way out, you passed a few booths of familiar faces that turned their heads at the sight of the two of you leaving together— but just as you were starting to wonder if you'd made the right decision, Kitty caught your eye. The waitress gave you an all-knowing smile and winked. 

It was the closest thing to a blessing that you were going to get.  

Outside of a job or a hookup, Cloud was not often outside at night under the plate. 

Now, in the awkward silence between himself and (Y/N), he had time to look and reflect. The combination of maintenance lights and the soft glow of energy throughout the plate itself was a poor imitation of a sky full of stars, but it was good enough in the absence of another alternative. It dimly lit the dusty, barren streets, casting everything in the greenish-gray of mako energy-fuelled lights; when he wasn't peering into suspicious shadows, Cloud caught glimpses of (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, noting the way the unnatural light made her skin appear strange and foreign beneath it. Before now, he had not thought her skin to be so familiar that he would notice a difference. 

Tonight was a remarkably bad idea. 

"We're almost there," (Y/N) said to him, slowing her walk until she stopped to face him. She peered up at him with piercing eyes, and Cloud suddenly got the feeling that he was being tested. 

"Something bothering you?" he ventured, resisting the urge to check over his shoulder for some unseen enemy. 

"You could say that."

(Y/N) did not drop her gaze; Cloud refused to give her any ground by being the first to look away for the second time in the evening. 

"Why are we here?" she asked him, her eyes throwing the light of the plate back to him in little glowing pinprick reflections. "I wasn't thinking earlier, not really— I let my baser instincts lead me this far. Before we go any further, I have to know what you're in this for."

An excellent question, that— it was one Cloud had asked himself a thousand times before he made the decision to show up at Hell's Maw.

I'm here ecause you drive me to distraction, he wanted to say. Because you're so beautiful, and so deadly, and I have wanted a taste of you since I first laid eyes on you. Because after meeting with you every week for months, moments with you feel like the only thing that's really mine in all the world. 

Instead, he did not speak, not for a long time. Patiently, she watched him, staunch in her decision to remain where she was until he gave her an answer. 

Because I want you is the answer he should have given, mostly because it was the truest one. The answer he gave was stupid and cowardly, and only true in the vaguest sense. 

"To scratch an itch," he said. When she raised a brow, he added, "A deeper one than usual."

He hoped distantly that she could understand his reticence. He could not tell her what he felt without feeling foolish; he could not even acknowledge it to himself without feeling a traitor to the feelings he was expected to bear for others. Tonight, he could have chosen from dozens of women, and at least two of them were as dear to his heart as his very own flesh— but none of them were her. (Y/N) was beauty and grace and nightshade; she was the honey in every trap, the woman he wasn't supposed to want, but wanted carnally. She had no history with him, only the present, and yet he felt that she understood him like no one else ever had. 

Don't be ashamed, she'd told him earlier, her gaze steady and strong like steel, her voice soft and gentle as silk. You are what they made you, but you survived. Never, ever be ashamed.

Cloud had spent so much of his time ashamed of everything. Ashamed of his roots, of his failures, of all the things he remembered, of all the things he didn't— and it was as if she had felt the badness in him, sensed it without him saying, and accepted it as a part of him. In her, there was no blind hero-worship, no transference of feelings from a risky rescue. No, she was simply the other side of his coin. She knew him because she was him. 

"An itch," she repeated, and he felt as though she were flaying him open with her eyes. 

"An itch," he replied, unable to say anything else.

She took a moment, considering. She must have found something within him worthy, because she gave a nod and walked on as though the conversation had never happened. 

If someone had asked Cloud that night what her house had looked like, he could not have said. He would not have known the color if it had been neon orange with fireworks shooting out of the front of it; by the time he should have taken notice of it, he'd been thoroughly distracted with (Y/N)'s mouth on his own. 

How that happened was a mystery also. One moment, he was walking along with her, slightly behind— the next, he was grabbing her arm, overcome with the desire to see her face once more, his heart somehow damaged by her uncharacteristic silence, and then he was kissing her because he could, because she let him, and because he was swiftly becoming utterly obsessed with the taste of her. It was filthy, deviant stuff, sucking on the length of her tongue, holding her to him by the very hair of her head; eventually, he decided that he wanted her closer still and simply lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

From there, he'd been operating mostly blind. She gave him directions, intimately familiar with her route home, and guided him even to the very last detail of how high he should lift his foot to make it up the front porch steps. If either of them had not been who they were, such a thing would likely have been impossible— but with an assassin's precision and a SOLDIER's grace and ability, they'd navigated the journey just fine. 

At first, it seemed a shame and a nuisance that, even after they'd done so well getting there, (Y/N) insisted on opening the lock to her front door— but then Cloud got a magnificent view of her backside, and remembered that, as an ass man, it was practically his duty to come behind her and press himself against her with hungry neck-kisses as she fiddled with the lock. His cock, already half-hard, was infinitely pleased with the rocking motion he'd taken up, grinding against her ass; she, apparently, was also pleased as she pressed back against him, encouraging the friction with her own body as his teeth scraped over the lobe of her ear. 

“Fuck,” she swore, her hands shaking as she finally managed to slide the key home, using it to turn the lock. “That feels good.”

Never one to let a compliment lead to complacently, Cloud licked a line up her neck, tasting her sweat and the bitter tang of her perfume; his tongue found the lobe of her ear once more, then delved into the cavity of it. (Y/N) shivered at the motion as the door fell away, and Cloud guided the both of them inside, kicking the door shut with a heavy boot. 

Her home was smaller than he had expected. For some reason, Cloud had imagined her to live in a palace, or something close to it— certainly, the amount of money her jobs paid could keep her more than comfortably in one, if there was one to be found below the plate— but instead of great columns and outrageous interior decorating, Cloud found soft carpet, flourishing plants, and rows of bookshelves filled with knick-knacks and photographs. All in all, (Y/N)'s place just seemed sort of… normal. 

"Bedroom's this way," she called out over her shoulder, smirking— but Cloud caught her arm, stopping her. 

The idea of knowing the way she kept her room— the intimacy and implications of that knowledge—was too much to bear. 

"Here's fine," he said, touching his nose to hers, then tilting his head. "Kiss me."

And boy, did she ever. Her hands threaded through his hair, pulled him to her; her tongue slid past his lips and he groaned into her mouth, cock jumping at her passion. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her pelvis to meet his own, grinding against her; to his surprise, he found his hands knocked away, replaced by her own on him, which began the process of unbuttoning and unzipping. Soon, his cock was free in her soft, graceful hands, and he couldn't even bring himself to be ashamed of the moan he gave as she spat into her hand and stroked him. 

"I wanna suck you," she said breathlessly against his lips. "S'that okay with you?"

There was really only one answer to that. 

"Fuck yeah," he replied. 

He'd meant the words to be confident, even commanding— instead, they came out like a plea. Not that (Y/N) seemed to notice as she dropped to her knees before him, now eye-level with his gently-curving sex. No, he thought as she placed her hands on the crease of his thighs, playing teasingly in the fine dusting of hair there. She didn't seem to be bothered at all.

"You're a big boy," she said with a mischievous grin, her lips only a breath away from his cockhead. "I thought the sword might be over-compensation, but now I'm starting to rethink things a bit."

Cloud would be lying if he said that didn't stroke his ego just a little. 

"Just shut up and get on with it," he said, heat rushing to his face. "You can't talk and suck dick too."

She began slowly, so slowly Cloud thought he might die. She kissed his thighs, his belly, leaving his cock untouched; then came teasing kitten licks to his tip, teasing him, delving into his slit to lap at precome. He bucked his hips at her, impatient, and (Y/N) looked up at him with a smirk and said,

"If you don't like how I do it, do it yourself."

So saying, she grabbed a large, gloved hand and placed it on the back of her head, giving him his cue as her mouth returned to his cock. Cloud, shocked, didn't know what to do with himself for a moment— but it didn't take long for him to figure it out. He held her head— so small in comparison to his hands— and fucked her face, shoving his cock into her mouth over and over again as she tried to keep up with her hands and her tongue. She was hot and wet around him, her throat smoothly textured as he fucked deeper and deeper. It felt good to take that kind of control, he noticed, to take his pleasure from her by force. 

(Y/N) gagged a little as he thrust roughly, and he thought he might come on the spot.

Perhaps it felt a little too good. 

Rougher than he meant to be, he pulled her back by the hair at the base of her skull, gripping the strands close to the scalp. She looked up at him then, teary, breathless, and smiling, and Cloud was struck at once by how ravaged she looked. Gone was the kitten that had teased him at the bar; gone was the confidante who had confronted him about his intentions. In her place was a woman of pleasures, a woman of fleshly desires. This (Y/N), he hardly knew. 

"Open your mouth," he said, wiping saliva from the corner of her lips. She did so, sticking out her tongue— and without quite knowing why, he spat into her mouth. A thick glob of spit dropped from his mouth to hers, landing on her outstretched pink tongue; Cloud, feeling dizzy with want at the sight, leaned to seal it with a kiss. As he did so, she moaned against him, lacing her fingers in her hair, and he found himself pulled to the floor with her, his cock in her hand and her tongue in his mouth. 

Piece by piece, he undressed her. First to go was her shirt, followed by her bra; ever greedy, Cloud moved to take off his gloves so that he could feel the soft skin of her breasts in his hands, but she stopped him, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Leave them on," she told him, placing his gloved hands on her body, just over her pretty, perfect, and probably sensitive nipples. "I like the texture."

And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing Cloud had ever heard. 

Next to go was her shorts. Made of tough black denim, they were hard to slide over the swell of her hips; thankfully, though, her painties came off with them in the struggle, leaving her sex bare and wet in the chilled air of her apartment. With that, she was finally, gloriously naked.

Except, of course, the gun that was strapped to her torso.

It was a mid-size blaster, whose thin holster and belt were nestled snugly against her skin. The gun and all that held it were a sexy matte black, and Cloud quirked a brow at (Y/N) in question. 

"What, don't you know I'm always packing?" she teased him, leaning backward to unbuckle the belt that held the holster to her belly. To do so, she stretched her arms behind her back, arching so her tits were in his face, and Cloud was suddenly distracted.

With SOLDIER strength, he pulled (Y/N) to him by the hips. Sneaking one hand up her back, he leaned down to kiss between her breasts, then more to the right, until his mouth enclosed her nipple. Her moan was heady; without thinking about it, he moved the hand at her back to play with the other nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers, and she threw her head back, pressing into him. 

"Yes," she pleaded, her hands tight in his hair, "Fuck, that feels good."

For good measure, he licked and sucked at her skin, leaving love-bites in his wake. Even though he knew he'd not see them, there would be some pride in knowing that they were there, a pleasant, aching reminder of this moment.

Cloud could have spent forever in the pillow of her breasts— but his cock was so hard that it was getting difficult to ignore the throbbing between his legs. 

"Turn around," he said, unbuckling his shoulder guard. "I want to fuck you on your hands and knees."

It was a partial truth at best. While fucking (Y/N) from begind was a regular fantasy of his, there was an ulterior motive behind it. He wanted both of them to be naked, but he didn't want her to have to see his scars. They were many and jagged all across his body, from training, from fighting, from losing; up close, he sort of looked like a patchwork quilt. Not exactly pleasant to look at, in his opinion.

"Bossy," she fussed, but did as she was told. Soon, her knees were spread, her back arched to expose the wetness between her legs, and Cloud had never felt the need to undress so quickly before in all his life. It was fast, messy, and careless, but he was naked enough in under ten seconds to call it a win as he lined himself up with her entrance.

"Ready?" he asked her, pushing his self control to the limit. 

Irritated, she slung her head over her shoulder and said, "Cloud Strife, it you don't put your dick inside me right now I swear to—"

She didn't get to finish her threat. She was choked off the moment his cock slid home, her entire body moving with the force of it. Enveloped in warm, wet heat, Cloud pulled fully out before pressing back in again, biting back a moan as he watched himself disappear inside her folds. 

After another slow, lazy thrust, he leaned over so that his chest was touching her back and began fucking her in earnest; he never pulled out very far before he was pounding in and in and in—

"Cat got your tongue?" he murmured into her ear, wrapping one arm around her to gently lock her head next to his as he fucked her. "Usually you have so much to say."

All she said in response was a single, strangled moan. 

After that, Cloud lost himself. For him, nothing existed except the act itself; the world extended only to the places their bodies touched, slick and sweaty and obscene. His lips and tongue were busy, kissing and sucking at her neck and licking the salt from her flesh. It took a while for him to realize that the low, growling sound he was hearing came from deep within his own chest, and even then he couldn't manage to muster any shame. 

"M'close," he murmured in her ear, tasting the shell of it once more. 

"Inside," was all she said, and that in itself was enough to send Cloud hurling over the edge. 

He fucked her through his orgasm, only pulling away once he could bear the sensitivity no longer. Still half-mad with wanting, he moved (Y/N) bodily, intending to finish what he'd started with his mouth and fingers— but when he did, he found her shaking, with tears welling in her eyes. 

Horrified, Cloud drew away. He hadn't realized he'd been so rough. He hadn't realized that she'd been reacting this way. He hadn't—

"Hey, don't get squeamish now," (Y/N) told him with a weak little smile that made him feel sick. "Calm down, drama queen— I just have a m-mako sensitivity."

"Mako sensitivity?" he parroted, his own voice sounding strangled even to himself. 

She nodded and sat up, though it seemed an effort.

"You— You're a walking b-ball of mako energy," she explained. "With you inside me, and with— well, with—" 

She faltered, but Cloud nodded. He could imagine perfectly well what she meant. 

"You should have told me," he accused her, suddenly angry and very, very hurt. "I wouldn't have— you shouldn't have—"

All he could think of was mako poisoning, somehow his, somehow another's, how sick he'd been, how very close to death he'd come. He'd put her at risk of such a thing. He was a freak, and worse, a fool, for ever thinking he could have—

With slow, pained movements, she placed a hand on his arm. 

"It's not like that," she said. "I— I didn't know. I could feel it, but I didn't think—"

She pitched forward suddenly, and Cloud moved to catch her.

"Easy," he told her, and she looked up at him with a small, weak smile. 

"Gimme a second," she said as he steadied her. "I'll be right as rain after this."

She withdrew her hand and held it out for him to inspect. Sparks crackled between her fingers, and Cloud flinched backwards, instinctively defensive.

"You're not holding materia," he realized, dumbfounded. "What the hell is this?"

"Dunno," she replied, shrugging as though she'd just shown him a neat party trick and not a literal physical impossibility. "I've always been able to feel mako, and when I get overexposed, this happens."

"That's— that's impossible," he said, because it was. 

(Y/N) merely shrugged looking at him with soft eyes. 

"I didn't think it would happen with you. It's just sort of my secret. I get close to mako, get a little sick, and then I have to expel it like this or else it just doesn't get any better. It's… a gift and a curse."

Cloud just stared at her, amazed. 

"With your permission, though," she continued, mischief glinting in her eyes, "I'd like to try something. Y'know, since we have this issue and all anyway."

Without really thinking, Cloud nodded, and then her hands were on him. The hair on his neck and arms raised as she dragged the pads of her fingers from the base of his neck to the end of his torso, the sensation of her touch unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The air tasted metallic, like ozone; when she stuck her fingers in his mouth, it was like licking a battery. Already, his cock was jumping, excited by her touch, and then she was kissing him, threading her electric hands through his hair. Overcome, Cloud wrapped his arms around her, feeling stupid and lust-drunk and so, so good. 

"Touch me more," she told him, electricity popping in the spaces between her fingers. As he did, the popping increased, and he could feel the discharge of her power in the increasingly coppery taste of the air. Each breath was like a mouthful of blood; Cloud was willing to drown in it if it meant her hands would never leave his body.

"Lemme eat you out," he said, kissing the curve of her breast. "I owe you an orgasm."

She pulled back and raised a brow.

"After you made a mess down there?" 

"S'the best part," he grumbled, a bit wounded— but before he could complain too much, he found himself pulled forward as (Y/N) leaned back. She hit the floor with a gentle thud, and Cloud seized the opportunity for what it was.

With careful and precise tongue, he tasted her. First, he lapped at her clit, relishing in the sounds she made, then made it a point to gather the semen that had mixed with her wetness, slurping obscenely as he cleaned her folds. Above him, (Y/N) groaned.

"Why is that so hot?" he heard her gasp as she leaned onto her elbows to watch him. "It should not be that— oh, fuck."

Cloud smirked against her sex and licked a long stripe upwards. With his mouth on her clit, he took a freshly un-gloved hand and began to finger her, curling the digits to reach the place that would make her arch her back and cry—

"Fuck!"

Hearing her swear had never been so erotic before now— but Cloud would be damned if that wasn't a sound he'd love to hear on loop forever. 

Before long, she was close. He could feel it in the quivering of her thighs, the pulsing of her sex. He kept a steady rhythm, and then she was at her climax, falling hard with the rush of sensation and friendly, feel-good chemicals that left her limp and boneless beneath him. 

Perfect for him to continue fucking, now that his cock was hard and leaking again.

"Round two?" he asked, scarcely daring to hope she'd be ready— but then she sat up with a smile and said,

"Hell yeah."

And so it was, over and over, until they were both spent, and Cloud passed the fuck out on her living room floor, satisfied. 

When you woke, it was to an empty floor and no note. You were alone in the place where you'd had the most fantastic fuck of your life. 

Some part of you had known it would be this way. You had only known him for a handful of months, but in that time, you'd learned that Cloud was an avoidant man by nature— and you were doubtless not the first of his hookups to end this way. Still, the idea that he could just leave after such intimacy was… distressing, for some reason. 

Surprisingly, though, that feeling was easy to shake off once you left the dubious comfort of your floor and started planning your work for the week. Blond assholes who happen to give fantastic head amount to very little to a woman on a mission; you thought of him often, but the thoughts were small and benign, always curious and never of hurt or longing, as you had thought they might be. What had happened had simply happened, no more. 

Then Mako Reactor 5 fell to terrorist attacks, and the week went to shit so fast that you got whiplash. 

Before the reactor fell, you had considered not going to the bar that weekend. You didn't need an end-of-the week drink that badly; Cloud could take the hint and take a week off from the bar the next week and you'd never have to see each other again. After the reactor and your subsequent compromised mission, though? The devil himself could be in attendance that day and you'd sit in his lap and sell your soul for a drink. 

So, on Friday, you headed to Hell's Maw as usual. There was a possibility, you knew, of some awkwardness if Cloud was there, but frankly, it wouldn't be the first time you'd avoided an ill-advised hookup in a bar before— surely you could survive this as well. It would just be some weird eye contact and then a little ignoring, and everything would be as good as new.

What you weren't expecting was for Cloud to be perched on your fucking seat again, early and apparently waiting for you. 

"Oh boy," you said to no one in particular— and, as if SOLDIER had given him superior hearing as well as inhuman strength and durability, the bastard immediately looked over his shoulder and met your eyes over the Friday night crowd. On the other side of him, you noticed at least five empty glasses and a half-drunk sixth. They weren't water glasses, either. No, they were short, fat whiskey glasses, and, leaning halfway off of his stool, Cloud looked properly sloshed. 

Really, there was only one respectable thing to do in a situation like this. 

You turned on your heel and left, walking as fast as you could in the opposite direction. 

Would that you could have been faster. You had barely gotten two sidewalk cracks away from the bar when a large, warm hand curled around your arm, stopping you. 

"Cloud, get off me," you huffed, pulling your arm against his unbreakable grip. 

"No," he said simply, and bodily turned you to face him. When he did, he used a bit too much of his strength, and you ended up nose-to-nose, sharing breath.

"If this is about the other night—"

Cloud didn't let you finish. He surged forward, sealing those words with a drunken, sloppy kiss that was somehow still as electric as your first. One of his gloved hands rested at the base of your skull, cradling your head, and the other wandered to your hip, pulling you close enough to feel the growing tent in his pants. 

Heaven help you, but you weren't sure if you wanted to stop him. 

"M'sorry," he said against your lips, pulling away only far enough to speak. "Didn't really mean to do that."

Then what did you mean? you wondered, but before you could ask, Cloud peeled himself away from you until the only thing connecting you was his hand resting on the junction of your neck and shoulder. The new distance, though slight, was jarring. 

"M'sorry," he repeated. "I— we made a mistake."

Oh boy. 

"Spare me the dramatics," you said, tired already. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Cloud. I wasn't expecting anything from you other than what I got."

"S'not that." Cloud averted his eyes, shameful, swaying. "I, uh. Shouldn't have put you in that position."

What, does he think I have carpet burn? You wondered, but then Cloud was looking at you with such raw vulnerability that you couldn't even crack a joke at his expense. 

"I don't regret what we did last week," you told him gently. "I'm sorry if you do, but if this is out of some kind of misplaced honor—"

"I'm involved in things," he told you in a tight voice that felt as if he'd said them before. "Dangerous things."

If there was any relevance of that claim to their current situation, you certainly couldn't find it. 

"You're a dangerous man," you shrugged. "It's one of your better qualities. I'm a dangerous woman myself, so I think that tracks, don't you?"

Cloud shook his head.

“It’s—” he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

If you had learned anything about Cloud, it was that ‘complicated’ was generally code for ‘Shinra’. From there, it didn’t take much to imagine exactly what he meant.

“The reactor,” you hazarded, heart filling with dread. “That was the job Tifa lined up for you. Holy shit, your girlfriend is a fucking eco-terrorist, what the hell—”

“— she is not my girlfriend—”

“Look, pal, that’s definitely not the part of that sentence we need to be focusing on right now.”

You reached out a hand, meaning to reach out and draw Cloud closer. Instead, as you moved forward, you were met with cold steel raised against your neck. Cloud’s eyes were wild with distress and distrust, but the set of his mouth was frozen with coldness that meant he would do what he felt necessary if you pushed him.

“Hey,” you said to him softly. “I’m not your enemy here.”

Slowly, you lifted her hands in surrender. Still uneasy, Cloud lowered his sword. As soon as it was clear of you, you stepped forward into his space, close enough that he could not bring the length of the sword between you. Cloud shifted, trying to move back to where he could use his sword if he needed to, but you stopped him with a hand to his forearm.

“Come home with me,” you said, brushing your thumb over the flesh of his arm. “You’re too drunk to be swinging that thing around, and if you want to talk, it’s best we do that in private. Okay?”

“M’not drunk,” he complained, but the look behind he gave you behind lowered lashes said he didn’t mind going home with you anyway. With swaying movement, he hefted the sword onto his back; once it was secure, he gestured for you to lead the way.

The trip to yours was short and uneventful. Once the door to your home was shut safely behind you, Cloud grabbed you once more, his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. His touch was warm and so, so tempting— but you gently pried yourself away. He was a wreck, and you weren't about to take advantage of that even if it was what you both wanted. 

"Sit on the couch with me," you requested, grabbing his hand. "Let's talk."

As always, Cloud was resistant to the whole talking thing. Instead of poking and prodding, though, you took a different approach this time; you allowed the silence to creep and crawl between the two of you, swishing its tail like some irritated feline, letting it fester until Cloud was ready to bat it away and say what he had come to say. In the meantime, your hands stayed busy, touching, feeling, grounding the man before you. He relaxed into you, muscles loosening; he leaned until his head rested comfortably on your chest. The steady hum of mako buzzed in your head, lulling you almost to sleep— but then, just when you weren't expecting it, Cloud began to speak. 

"I made an oath to someone, a long time ago. "

You pulled away enough to see his face, your mouth agape.

"You're married?"

"What? No!" Cloud made a face of horror and distress. "I— There's a lot of things I don't remember, okay?"

Your brows knit. 

"So… you could be married."

"Oh, leave off of that, will you? I'm not married! I'd remember that if I was."

There was a note of hesitation in his voice that you didn't like. 

"So, this oath," you said, touching the skin of his cheek. "What was it for?"

Cloud shrugged. 

"I only have the vaguest notion. I don't remember the words. It's like— it's like the only way to keep it is to continue fighting, to be in this constant state of war— and yet, that feels wrong, too. It consumes me." He looked down at his hands. "It's like that oath is binding me to something bigger than myself… and as a result, I've gotten mixed up with some pretty dangerous stuff."

"Like?"

Cloud looked at you then, his eyes as heavy as they were beautiful. 

"Like saving the world."

You did your damnedest not to laugh. It was a near thing, but you succeeded— if only by inches. 

"So, let me get this straight… you're now an eco-terrorist because in a time you don't remember, you've taken an oath to save the planet?"

Cloud's jaw locked. 

"It's bigger than that. Much bigger than that. Shinra is corrupt, they kill innocent people— and Shinra's not the only thing." He looked away. "I can't talk about it. It's dangerous. You could get hurt, and the more you know makes you a bigger target."

There it was again, that concern. It had been a long time since someone cared if you were hurt. You tried not to let it take away your objectivity. 

"I assume Tifa knows?"

So maybe your objectivity was a little screwy. Sue about it. 

Cloud grimaced.

"I don't like that any more than you do, but she chose this path a long time ago."

"And Aerith?"

Cloud shook his head.

"She's… insistent."

"So what am I, chopped liver?"

Cloud shook his head.

"This isn't your fight. You aren't involved like they are."

"And I don't have to be for you to tell me—"

"For fuck's sake, just let me keep you safe!" At close range, with his body pressed against yours, you could feel the vibration of his shouting as though it were your own. "Tifa and Aerith, they belong to this world, to this fight— but you belong to me!"

"I don't belong to anyone, hotshot—"

"Exactly!"

You blinked.

"I— I'm not sure I'm following."

A heavy, gloved hand rested on your cheek. You leaned into it, relishing in its warmth. 

"Your soul is your own," Cloud said quietly. "You are the master, the possessor of your own self. You won't die for some cause, won't sacrifice yourself for the greater good. You'll survive. It's all you know how to do."

He tested his forehead against yours.

"I need that. I need you at Hell's Maw every Friday night, sitting in the same seat, drinking the same drink. I need you to talk to me like I'm nothing special, to show me your kindness and your sharpness."

He paused. You waited, teetering on the edge of anticipation, unable to know or even to guess what he would say next.

"And now— now that we've gone this far…" His hand drifted from your cheek to your neck, resting just above the curve of your breast. "I'm afraid of needing that too. I don't want you pulled into my world, and I don't want to need you so badly that—"

I don't want to need you so badly that I'm trapped. 

You understood. It was possible that you understood better than anyone else ever could have. 

"I get it." 

He pulled away, but you didn't allow it. You caught him by the arm, bade him stay with gentle insistence. He allowed it, and you pulled him back to rest beside you, nose-to-nose. 

"I know you, Cloud Strife," you said, summoning the words that had lodged themselves in your chest for so long. "You're like a wild animal. I cannot seek to own you… but if you come and eat from my hand, let me dress your wounds, and rest your head on my lap in times of trouble, I will count myself lucky to have someone so dear to me."

Hot pinpricks burned your eyes. How long have you waited to say something so true, so real? Why did it feel like a confession? 

Cloud didn't seem to notice your distress— or, perhaps it was because he noticed your distress that he leaned forward, slowly, gently, and kissed you chastely on the mouth. You could taste the liquor on his lips; hungering for more, you deepened it, but Cloud kept a steady rhythm, holding you tenderly. 

"Thank you," he said, pulling away. 

"For what?" you laughed. 

"For being here, for taking care of me. For not letting me wander home by myself, drunk and stupid."

"Of course." A smile stretched your face. "Any time."

The two of you stayed there for a long time, sharing breath, exchanging tender touches. Tomorrow, things might change— another reactor might blow, the plate might drop, or Cloud might use up the last of his nine lives— but tonight, nothing existed outside of your too-small couch. Tonight, he was yours, and that was all that mattered. 

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

🦅❤️Boyfriend!Hawks❤️🦅

GIF by koi-feathers

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who met you at a Pro Hero gala last spring. He saw you from across the room and felt drawn to you like a moth to flame. He practically begged his agency team to introduce the two of you.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who accidentally spilled his drink on you, yet still managed to capture your attention for the rest of the evening. He offered to pay for your gown to be dry cleaned, as long as you gave him your number in exchange.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who texts you the morning after the gala to plan your first date together. He's dying to try a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop in your neighborhood. Maybe the two of you could grab a bite and then you can show him your favorite dessert spot?

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who is a not-so-secret foodie. Who loves to talk through taste and ingredients and mouthfeel and who absolutely lives for anything chocolate.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who walks you home with a light hand on your lower back. Who kisses you softly on the cheek before he takes off into the night, his fierce wings glinting in the bright moonlight. Your face burns where his lips brushed your skin.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who prefers when you take initiative in planning dates. He loves when you surprise him with an activity he's never done before - a pottery class downtown, a new nightclub after work, a dessert themed escape room. He loves to get to know you in all sorts of new venues and situations.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who asks you to be exclusive after two months of dates and dinners and quick cheek kisses. He gifts you a bar of his favorite chocolate and asks cheekily if he can finally call himself your boyfriend (everyone at his agency has been referring to you as his girlfriend since the night you met). When you say yes, he finally kisses you satisfyingly slow and deep, his hands cradling your face.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who you quickly learn grew up touch-starved. He didn't grow up with physical affection or hugging, so he's addicted to any small gesture of physical intimacy you give. You find the physical side of your relationship needs to develop very slowly and cautiously - Keigo can easily become overwhelmed and overstimulated since he's not used to being touched by other people. You don't mind one bit - he's worth the wait. He learns how to set boundaries and slowly opens up about his difficult childhood and training.

He loves when you:

Walk by him at an event and possessively rest a hand on his shoulder.

Rest a hand on his muscular chest when taking press photos or selfies.

Card your fingers through his thick hair. (This makes him absolutely melt into your touch!)

Press a quick kiss to his cheek or to the corner of his mouth

Slowly wrap him up in an embrace after a long day of patrols, meetings and press events.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who is a a constant flirt. He has so much rizz in public, but in private he's all mush and emotional intimacy.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who loves bragging about you at work. Who babbles about your hobbies and your cute outfits and your favorite movies to the likes of Endeavor, Best Jeanist and Mirko. They're all thrilled for him, but they find his bragging annoying as all hell.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who revels in seeing you wear his clothes. He loves seeing how small you look in his oversized hoodies. You once put on his hero costume as a joke and he nearly passed out as his heart welled up with affection for you. You look so adorable in his flight suit and visor - he just can't stand it.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who enjoys developing your physical relationship and relishes in every new thing he learns about your body and what makes you feel good. Luckily for you - he's a great student and a quick learner.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who struggles to become good at kissing. The prolonged physical contact makes him uncomfortable at first, but he's determined to figure out the ways you like to be kissed. And you're more than happy to help him learn.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who is a little possessive and likes to give you hickies to remind you that you're his. As he becomes more comfortable with you physically, he longs to make you his in any way he can. He loves to leave tiny love bites along your shoulder - reveling in the way he can make you shudder when he sinks sparkling teeth softly into delicate skin.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who plans a scavenger hunt for your 1 year anniversary. Don't worry - there is a flight component that requires him to wrap his arms around you and to use Fierce Wings to give you both a birds-eye view of the city.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who has an infectious, flirtatious grin. You can't help but laugh when you see that cheshire cat smile spread across his face over dinner or out and about with friends or on a long walk through the park.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who feels that he is perfectly suited for the role of boyfriend, since taking care of others is one of his favorite things.

🔴Boyfriend!Hawks who loves you as you are, and who can't wait to build a life and to grow with you.

[violet-sumire]

Fuyumi has a fire quirk AU

Endeavor doesn't specifically include her in Touya's training, but once she gets her quirk, she starts coming along. At first he's confused: she's joining in the training of her own accord, but seems to slack off a lot- why? But Rei informs him she just wants to do what her big brother is doing.

Her quirk, by the way, isn't as strong as Touya's and seems to be a near 1-to-1 copy of Enji's own. After he gives up on Touya, he briefly considers going all-in on her, but she doesn't have the right temperament. Also, if he couldn't surpass All Might, then how could someone on the same power level as him do what he couldn't?

The plot then proceeds similarly to canon, but Touya and Fuyumi get along a little better since there's more to bond over. She's devastated when he burns up.

Soon afterwards, 13-year-old Fuyumi starts considering maybe pursuing Touya's dream for him. She's got a strong fire quirk, after all, that she knows has some serious potential even if she hasn't put a lot of work into it recently. She decides she'll become a pro hero and get into the top 10 on the hero ranking.

So for the next couple of years, she trains up her quirk. Her middle school is very well-funded so there's a whole quirk gym she can use.

(While training, she actually feels hot for the first time in her life after overheating. She's not a fan.)

Unlike Touya, she's not as interested in learning her father's moves wholesale. One of the first things she teaches herself to do is use her quirk to fly (she's very grateful her school has some soft mats; there was a lot of trial and error). She also shapes her fire into forms more often and uses it to cut, similar to Hell Spider. Big blasts like Flashfire Fist she's less interested in.

She doesn't actually tell her father she's training, finding it kind of awkward to talk to him about. The only one she mentions it to is Natsuo, who doesn't get her decision but knows it's to honor Touya so he doesn't tell her he thinks it's stupid.

She eventually gets into UA, and quickly ends up near the top of her class (not that she's really aiming for the top, it just happens).

However, she fumbles her first sports festival and doesn't get much attention.

Her second year is where she starts to hit her stride, getting really good at shaping and condensing her flames. Back in middle school, she'd once or twice accidentally made blue flames and eventually figured out how to replicate it, but they were annoying to maintain so she hadn't done anything with it. However, now once she has more power and control, she starts using it in battles. It's not an 'always on' thing for her; it still does require focus and accelerates her overheating.

She eventually graduates, joins an agency, then quickly starts her own. Her peers are amazed at her incredibly rapid ascent.

(She actually thinks she's going slow- she's judging her progress by Endeavor, who was number 2 by age 20. This is intentional on her part- she wants to have some time for family, after all.)

Around the time canon gets into gear, when Shouto starts UA, she's number 11 on the charts. Not as fast as her father or that other newcomer, Hawks, but still incredible.

(Also, the color scheme on Fuyumi's costume is orange, white, and pink. She wanted a warm fiery theme but also wanted to incorporate colors she likes, leading to that. She's never seen the lesbian flag before and doesn't know why she suddenly exploded in popularity overseas among certain types of women.)

Amazingly, Endeavor still doesn't know his daughter is a hero. He never paid attention to her high school uniform, he doesn't watch the Sports Festival (usually his sidekicks do that and he trusts them to find people to send offers to- they sent one to Fuyumi but she rejected it), and he doesn't pay attention to other heroes not in the top 10. Once, when he was asked by a curious journalist if [whatever Fuyumi's hero name is here] is his daughter, he says he's never heard of that hero and denies it.

However, it's projected that come the next Hero Billboard Chart JP, set to be in May soon after the UA Sports Festival, Fuyumi will break into the top 10. Which means she and Endeavor will be, for the first time ever, in the same room together in costume...

[princessgarnetxvi]

Clair Obscur Expedition 33: Verso or Maelle Debate

After avoiding it for so long, 60+hrs deep, I finally beat Clair Obscur Expedition 33 last night.

I've seen some very self-righteous posts about how picking one over the other was the "RIGHT" thing to do and that it was the "GOOD" ending. The argument being made that if you did not pick Maelle you are morally corrupt or selfish. While the other handful presents the notion that if you DID NOT pick Verso, you are selfish and cruel.

The discourse has people attacking others PERSONALLY over what they chose in a video game; demonizing the integrity of one's character on who they picked. And while that is insane by itself - I'd like to make it a point to highlight that both sides are completely ignoring the narrative by standing on a pretentious pedestal of being "right. - the morally superior one"

It is not only arrogant but disrespectful to the people who worked so hard on this wonderful tale of grief, loss and identity.

It frustrates me because that isn't the driving point the Dev's were trying to make.

First off, there isn't a good or bad ending.

Whichever you choose, people will lose.

in Maelle's ending, Verso is being forced to live a life he does not want. He has lived for (over?) a hundred years, suffering the same wounds of grief over and over - dying thousands of times and although he is immortal, he feels every inch of pain like anyone would. It is torturous. But also, in Maelle's ending, he has to KNOWINGLY watch her TRULY die. Not just in the canvas but in the real world. At least those that died in the canvas could always be brought back by a painter. Maelle though, stayed in the canvas and withered away in real life.

However, one also cannot blame her.

I do not blame people for picking Maelle.

Maelle didn't want to go back to the real world because it was literal hell for her. She not only had to live in a world that was without Verso and constantly face the reality every single day that he died for her due to her own mistakes - but she was also in extreme physical pain every waking moment. It was hard to breathe without pain, her eye is gone, her face disfigured and burned by her own mother - her calloused older sister blames her for everything. To her, there was no love there. But she found love and comfort in the canvas. It's hard to not sympathize with her.

In Verso's ending, he ultimately betrays all of the dreams, hopes and wishes of his peers. He went out of his way to get to know them, endure with them, cry with them, fall in love, grieve, fight and ignite the flame to carry on - only to extinguish that same fire he started. After Gustave died, Verso came as a beacon of hope, giving them alternatives to fulfill their dreams - all the while knowing that their endeavors would lead to their demise. Verso cuts down Maelle, forcing her to not only lose Verso again, inflicting the heartbreak upon her once more - but he does this to save her. He then destroys the canvas and all of the people in it, all his friends, the people he adores and himself in order to not only bring him peace but to save his 'sister.'

With all that said, Maelle's choice and Verso's choice were both selfish in their own ways. But only ONE resulted in a very real person's death.

So that is why I chose Verso.

He did not ask to be created and he was stuck as an object of the Dessendre family's grief. He had no identity, no sense of self - but he felt things; not just for Maelle but for others and the hard part was he couldn't figure out if they were his own feelings or the feelings of a ghost he was made to mimic.

Such a haunting is cruel.

Ultimately, there is no right or wrong answer here.

But Verso saving Maelle's life in the canvas mirrors the sacrifice the REAL Verso made in order to also save Maelle/Alicia from death and I think that means something.

OTHER FACTORS TO CONSIDER:

Maelle was choosing how she wanted to die:

Yes, she is choosing how she wants to die. But so was Painted Verso. She is also choosing her own agency at the cost of a shorter life. Maelle was choosing how she wanted to die but most importantly, how she wanted to live in the short time she had left - surrounded by those who TRULY and unconditionally loved her.

But on the account that she should live and find meaning in her real life, I had to pick Verso.

Just letting her die on her own accord, while libertating, would be an insult to Verso's (real) sacrifice that started this whole thing.

The theme of parents pushing their dreams onto their children to the point of abuse, neglect and control is highlighted multiple times but hardly brought to the forefront in the discussion of the main themes of the game.

So letting Maelle die living with the shadows of her mistakes, while happy, felt like a betrayal to the liberation in Maelle finding her own way to live was meant to represent to us. Canvas Verso was a deceiver and let the bestest boi and others die for his own vendetta but I also can't help but feel that he's just as much of a victim as Maelle.

Most importantly, I do not want to forget to highlight that Verso's choice induces the genocide of all the people within the canvas; people with their own dreams, feelings, pains and hopes.

This argument is flawed from the start. Renoir already erased all of the people within the world prior to the final battle. Verso's choice would just keep them dead longer.

And not to dismiss the genocide aspect of it. But the fact they can be repainted by Maelle INSTEAD of letting Maelle die permanently made leveling out my options a bit easier.

Maelle's Choice only bought time for the inevitable

If she dies, Renoir will destroy the canvas and that will be the end all for the people of Lumière and the remnants of that world.

But...If Maelle lives then she can just paint again - as Verso said.

Maelle surviving promises the world inside the canvas another day.

Another chance at life.

[thr0wnawayy]

How Corrupt Is Hero Society?. Part 2

Nomu and Endeavor, a cause for concern

To add to the today's chatter about Endeavor and his excessive force and how that applies to the rest of MHA's "heroics". I'd like to point something out

It has always been this way

Excessive violence against Nomu isn't anything new, ever since Hori downgraded them into punching bags so the audience wouldnt question the morality of it all.

It does, however bring into light just how desensitized Hero Society is, how they view villains and may display some quirk-ism. Allow me to elaborate.

To the publics knowledge this is a PERSON.

The general public, hell most heroes. Had no fucking clue what a Nomu was. To their knowledge this was just someone with a heavy mutation quirk.

And they just, carry on.

Endeavor's gut instinct here was to burn his head off to stop him from regenerating and no one bats an eye.

But don't worry it gets worse.

Gran Torino is someone the community has dug into countless times for his attitudes towards Shigaraki and belief that "killing is another way to save"

So when Torino does this:

it doesn't really help his case, especially when Endeavor tried to kill that Nomu prior to this by incinerating him alive (almost killing 2 civilians. But I'll get to that)

Such a move would at the very least, sever someone's spine rendering them paralyzed for life. While I can see what Torino was trying to do, the ends do not justify the means here.

I'm not saying the Nomu are innocent, but it's blatantly obvious that they should be aiming to detain them rather than resorting to lethal force right away.

The worst part is the public has no reaction to this. No one asks anything and the authorities sure as hell aren't telling them squat.

We see it again during the Hood Fight and what's worse is that Hood can talk, bringing into question of how sapient is Hood.

Again Endeavor incinerates the Villain and no questions are asked.

Alright remember what I said about the two civilians?. well it gets worse, Firstly, they didn't even know if they were alright until near the end of the Hosu Incident, just letting them run off.

After Endeavor recklessly unleashes a wall of flame, the Nomu absorbs it and processed to reflect the same attack.

(on a second note: Torino and Enji even refer to the Nomu as if they were fighting a Human!?)

What does this mean?. Well that Enji ran into that fight without thinking!.

He didn't even so much as think up a strategy (just like a certain blonde we all know and despise) for what would happen if the opponent just, didn't die.

In Vigilantes he opts to bathe an entire city block in fire because he can't find the Villain (6)

He creates a fucking fire tornado with no thought for collateral damage

(The reactions of his sidekicks concern me, though knowing how Burnin' reacted to Dabi's exposé I'm not suprised.)

Given that he's this destructive and openly antagonistic in public, I don't even want to imagine the state Rei was in after every "training session" spent protecting Shoto.

This is why looking back, I can't say I'm suprised how some of the civilians dove back into worshipping heroes, even after Hawks killed a man and Heroes left them to fend for themselves.

Because as the saying goes

A bird stuck in a cage believes flying to be an illness

_______________________________________

Additional Info:

As pointed out by @gecmi09 (thank you for bringing that up), Endeavor did indeed refer to Crawler and Popstep as villains, as seen here:

I'd like to draw attention to the fact that he is drawn in a similar manner to Number Six, who is also often drawn in a silhouetted fashion, especially when his true colors are exposed.

The two characters are ironically very similar. Both are willing to resort to destructive means if it means achieving their goals.

Both willingly hurt those around/close them and use flawed logic in an attempt to justify their actions.

Both pretend to be something/someone they're not

Both of them brought about their own demise through one of their victims (Dabi and Knuckleduster [who took in Koichi] respectively. Though Six's was more indirect.)

Even though Vigilantes is loosely attached to MHA, I find it interesting that these two characters are so similar. Really makes you think.

[extrashotodepresso]

Endeavor X Fem!Reader

To Hell With It

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Only , Minors DO NOT INTERACT, sex pollen, unprotected sex (again, don’t do this irl), questionable consent, cringy, office sex

Reblogs and comments always welcome. If you have something hateful to say, keep it to yourself. I write purely for my own enjoyment and post just in the event other people like cliche cringy smut just as much as I do. I know Enji is super shit through most of MHA, and a lot of people just hate on him in general but let’s be real- if we don’t let fantasy characters have redemption arcs, what hope do real people have?

Summary: Enji is hit with a sex pollen quirk and you, his assistant of 5 years decide to help him through it.

“Y/L/N.” The speaker on your desk rang out suddenly, causing you to jump. It was your boss and the nation’s number one hero, Endeavor. “Come to my office. Now.” His voice sounded odd—as clipped and dominant as ever, but obviously different.

He had been strange since returning from today’s patrol, covered in sweat and dashing into his office without so much as a greeting. While he wasn’t typically friendly; he would normally offer you, his head assistant of five years, a casual nod in the least. With a sense of urgency, you rushed away from your desk to go to him.

When you opened the doors to massive office, your eyes were immediately drawn to him. Endeavor was behind his massive mahogany desk, pacing and panting, his hands threading in his hair over and over. He finally stopped as you entered, spreading his arms out on his desk, brooding and clearly tense.

For a moment, you admired the hulk of a man, eyes raking over his broad shoulders and almost 7 foot frame. He was still in costume, though not using his quirk, an unusual sight while in the office. The lack of flames licking across his face made the large scar on his chiseled face stand out even more. Your heart skipped for a moment like a fan struck schoolgirl despite your increasing concern.

“Close the door.” He abruptly commanded you. You obliged, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible before approaching his desk like a frightened animal.

“Is… everything alright sir?” Your voice was strained, careful.

“I need you to do something for me.” He reached into his desk, pulling out a small red business card. He slapped it down, covering it with his hand and holding it still for a moment before he slid it across the desk, refusing to look you in the eyes. As you got closer to grab the card, you noticed a single bead of sweat roll off his forehead, landing on the wooden surface beneath him with a sizzle. He was quite literally burning up.

You looked at the card with trepidation.

“Call the number. Have them send someone immediately.” You looked down at the card in your hands; it was simply designed, a phone number with ‘Hero Escort Service’ written in bold black ink at the bottom. “Obviously, no one is to know about this.”

“An… escort sir?” You swallowed, not being able to look at him as your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

Over the past five years you had looked after Enji Todoroki. Everything in his life he needed, you provided. You had been the one to arrange the paperwork for his divorce, had made him almost every meal when he needed to eat, arranged meetings with his children who seldom showed, ran all his errands and… you had been stupid enough for fall for him. Not that he had any idea.

He didn’t respond.

“W-why?” You managed to stutter.

“I didn’t call you in here to ask questions.” His voice was uncommonly stern with you. “Just do it (Y/N).” Yikes, he used your first name. A pregnant pause erupted in the room; your mouth feeling dry as you struggled to grasp the concept.

“No.” You managed to say with finality.

“Excuse me?”

“No.” You finally tore your gaze from the card in your hands, looking to Endeavor with pleading eyes. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” The words you wouldn’t speak hung in the air silently… This isn’t like you.

You realized now, that’s exactly why he was asking you. He couldn’t—not with as prideful of a man as he was—debase himself like this. The question was, why was he asking you to?

“(Y/N). I will not tolerate your insubordination in this, or any other matter. Call it.” He lit the flames of his quirk as if to intimidate you. You didn’t falter.

“Something’s wrong.” You said, ignoring his display. You stiffened your posture, staring him down with all the strength you could muster. “I never question you, sir. Just this once, I need to know. Why are you doing this?” He looked you up and down, as if appraising you and there was something behind his eyes that made you tingle. He seemed to consider your question, you could read that he was debating wether or not to disclose something.

“I got hit with a quirk. This is the cure. Handle it or I will find someone who can.”

“What kind of quirk needs…” you trailed off, then, as if against your will your eyes dragged down his body, down his hero suit and you noticed the sizable tent in his pants. “Oh.” You swallowed, though your mouth still felt quite dry. He offered no additional information and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the crackling of his quirk’s fire.

You looked at the card again, then turned the phone on his desk to you. He watched you with interested eyes but still said nothing. You dialed something frantically and waited for a response, taking off your suit jacket while you did.

“Yes, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Inform the security team to clear the top floor and enter into lockdown. Yes, just this floor, all other levels are to remain operational.” A pause. “Immediately.” Another pause. “Exactly. Endeavor is not to be disturbed, this is a direct order. Thank you.” You hung up the phone, trying to hide the fact that your hands were shaking.

“What are you doing?” Enji asked with interest and a little frustration. “I thought I told you-“

“You told me to handle it.” You quipped back. “Even if I call now, they’re not going to send someone here in time. These quirks just get worse until you… feel better, right?” You raised a brow. You had learned about sex pollen quirks in school. In most cases, the symptoms just get worse until the individual affected has sex to completion. Trying to fix it themselves wouldn’t even work, which is why there were agencies specially designed for heroes with this type of predicament. But you weren’t going to allow your Endeavor to degrade himself like that.

“… Yes.” He was still panting, looking over your body with a heavy swallow. He must’ve felt worse than you realized, judging off of his tensed muscles and desperate tone in his voice. How long could he possibly hold on? “But I-I can’t- not with you.”

You ignored the fact that that last bit tore your heart into a million pieces. The man you loved was in physical pain, your feelings hardly mattered right now. (Besides, you thought to yourself, given that sentiment this opportunity may never come again.)

“Please, sir…Enji.” At the sound of his name leaving your lips he moaned. “Let me help you.” You began to unbutton your blouse, looking into his eyes as you did. This was in a way embarrassing, would he be able to tell how you felt by looking at you? You chewed the inside of your cheek. You heard a feral sound emit from deep inside him as the opening of your shirt exposed your bra underneath.

“(Y/N).” He said, as if in warning. You finished removing your shirt, allowing it to fall on the floor and slowly began unzipping the back of your skirt.

“I promise, I’ll do everything I can to please you- just… let me help you, Enji.” I’ll do anything, but please don’t let it be someone else. Your skirt fell to the floor and you stepped out of it; leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear, stockings and heels.

He made his way around the table and just as you were reaching for your bra clasp he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“(Y/N).” He growled and the sound made your stomach flip. You looked into his eyes. His eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation though he found none. “I- If you stay in here like that I’m not going to control myself and- and I don’t want to hurt you.” The words came out in a broken whisper. He was shaking, clearly holding back his last ounce of self control. “Anyone but you.”

You ignored his plea, instead standing on the toes of your heels as you grabbed his face and gave him a searing kiss.

It was the kiss you had wanted to give him on your very first day. The kiss you had wanted to give him the first time he patted your head and told you you had done a good job. The kiss you had wanted when you saw him sitting alone in his office, staring at his phone with agony on his face as he desperately wished to fix his past. The kiss you had wanted when you were terrified he would be killed by the Nomu, the kiss you had wanted every single day after when you were just happy to see him. Your Hero, your Endeavor, your Enji. You hoped every ounce of that feeling could be transferred via skin, that with the crude brush of your lips he knew what you were desperately trying to say.

The way he returned your kiss you thought he might. You quickly became a clash of tongues and teeth, sloppy unhinged kisses driving you absolutely insane. You managed to pull away for a moment, the two of you panting.

“I promise… I can take it.” You kissed him a little more gently this time, feeling him groan into your mouth. His back shivered as you looped your arms around his chest, gripping for purchase wherever you could find it.

He lifted you off the ground, his tongue probing your mouth desperately as you tried to keep up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moved your grip from his chest to his shoulders, your hands moving over his neck and your fingers in his hair. You bit his lip, pulling it into your mouth with a gentle suck and he stuttered and growled. The violence of the sound shook his body and vibrated yours and you practically purred at the feeling.

“I’m going to destroy you, princess.” He let out in an animalistic warning. He shoved you onto his desk, using his hands to knock everything onto the floor before he pushed you down. You whimpered with the force of it as your head hit the desk, your legs were still wrapped around his waist and he ground himself against you, the bulge in his pants causing enough friction to make you gasp.

He kissed you while your mouth was open, tongue delving into your mouth attempting to swallow you whole. You were the one shaking now, desperate for every bit of what was coming. His lips seared down your throat, he let the flames of his quirk die out and you felt the scratch of his stubble searing your neck and chest as he travelled lower.

He grabbed your bra by the front, causing your back to arch off the desk towards his chest and he used his quirk to singe it off of you, the fabric giving way as he snapped it off your body. The sudden movement stung but you didn’t notice as his mouth hungrily attacked your right breast. His right hand grabbed at your left, massaging the tender flesh as he continued his oral assault. You arched further into him, panting and whimpering pathetically as your legs squeezed him harder.

He left your breast, licking down your stomach, using his hands to spread your legs off him while he lapped at your flesh. He landed a harsh nip at your hip as he kneeled on the ground. You shreiked and felt him smile into your flesh as he continued lower.

“It’s almost like you planned this, princess.” He mumbled into your flesh, his kisses and bites moving across your thighs and toward the apex of them. “It’s like you’re wearing these just for me.”

You knew what he was referring to. The very expensive lingerie set he was ruining was in fact from the Endeavor fan line; you had rushed out to buy them as soon as you saw their release announced and you hated to admit it, but the navy blue lace set was your favorite to wear to work. The thought of dressing for him and having that as a secret not even he knew was a guilty pleasure for you.

“I am.” You managed to gasp out as you felt his thick fingers caress the fabric. “It’s all for- you!” The last admission you might be embarrassed by had your thoughts not been otherwise occupied as he moved your panties to the side and shoved a finger deep into your unprepared hole. “Fuck!”

“Already so wet- what a naughty girl you are for me- if I had known…” whatever else he was about to say was lost as he brought his other hand down to singe off what was remaining of your underwear. The heat on your skin caused you to flinch, the sudden jut of your hips shoving his finger in deeper. Without warning his mouth landed on your clit, beginning an unforgiving assault with his tongue while he curled his finger deep inside you.

You were already close to snapping and he had just gotten started. His tongue felt like heaven, you swore you felt him searing his name into you. You hoped he was. Your hands gathered into his hair, your hips bucking into his face. When he inserted a second finger you looked down, as you noticed his starved eyes searing into you, watching your reactions to him you immediately came, clenching hard around him as you shook with a scream. He pulled back, watching you unravel and drip all over him. Enji let out a dark chuckle.

“Now I see why you told them to empty the entire floor. So loud- am I making you feel good, princess?” You let out a pathetic whimper at the use of the nickname, trying to shake your head yes- god you wished your brain wasn’t so blank, maybe you could tell him—“Well don’t forget, you’re here to please me, princess.” He pulled his pants down, allowing his massive raging red member to spring free. At the sight of it, your eyes widened, you tried pathetically to squirm back- there was no way—“Ah, ah ah-“ he tutted condescendingly. Now standing, he gripped your open thighs and dragged you closer to him, you could feel wetness of your own slick beneath you on the desk spread over your ass. “You promised you could handle it, and good girls don’t break their word.” His smile was dark and you felt your pussy clench at his words.

He held his cock in his hand, pumping it languidly and you wondered if this quirk he had been hit with was even that bad. He had an amazing sense of control-you had always heard that sex quirks made people go into a desperate frenzy, but the only person who seemed affected like that was you.

Enji dragged the underside of his cock along your folds, your poor overstimulated pussy quivered at the sensation.

“Hope you meant it princess- would hate to break my new toy as soon as I got it.” He muttered to himself as he lined up with your opening and began to push inside. “Fuck- (Y/N) you’re so- too- f-fuck-“ he stammered and you saw his control slip for a moment before he rammed himself all the way inside you. You yelped in pain from the suddenness of it, never had you had someone so…

“S’big” you whimpered weakly “S’too big Enji-“

It seemed he didn’t hear you as he began thrusting at an unrelenting speed. His arms braced themselves at your side, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he pounded you without compassion. Even the desk began creaking at the severity at which he was fucking you. He curled his body in closer, intolerably hot breath in your ear as he continued.

He had lost all control. He was grunting and whining and whimpering and repeating your name like a mantra, losing himself completely within you. You couldn’t feel pain anymore, just Enji. His crushing weight on your body, the heat rolling off him in waves, every vein of his cock dragging along your most sensitive spot; he was sending you hurling toward another release at breakneck speed.

“F-f-fuuu-“ you couldn’t even complete a single word. So this is what they meant by fucked dumb, huh? What the fuck had you been missing all this time?

He suddenly pulled out of you, leaving you to pathetically whimper at his absence.

“Enji- please-“ you quietly sobbed out. He grabbed your thighs again, using them to flip you over onto all fours on his desk, forcing your knees beneath you and your ass in the air before he thrust into you again.

“Gonna make you mine-“ he growled, and his voice was all you could hear. “Gonna mark you, gonna fill you up-“ this new angle had him impossibly deeper, you could feel him splitting you completely apart over his length.

“P-pleeease!” You finally managed coherence with a pathetic plea. The sound that came out of him was like a surprised sort of pleasure, like he hadn’t expected you to be so eager at the idea.

“You’d like that slut? Huh? Want me to fill you up with my cum? Hm?” When you didn’t immediately respond, he unleashed a quick but effective slap on your asscheek, forcing your dumbed out brain to process his words.

“Want all of it- please- please daddy~” his hand came up from your thigh and to your throat; not choking you but holding you up and arching your back to him as he turned your face to look at him. He looked into your fucked out eyes, seemingly trying to convey something to you in his stare before he settled on kissing you again.

He dragged his tongue along your lips, continuing his thrusting as he kissed you with a juxtaposed tenderness. You tried your best to kiss him back, but your lips were moving stupidly against his, the angle of your head uncomfortable and your hips doing their best to keep up with him taking up most of your attention. He curled his hand just a bit tighter around your throat and you exploded; flashes of white blinding you as you clamped down on him, your body spasming wildly as you lost yourself in him.

“Fuck- I’m cumming-“ he growled in your mouth as you felt a burning hot release inside you, rope after rope of cum filling you up. He fucked you through it and you felt his essence weeping around his cock and down your slit, collecting on the table below you.

Holy fuck this was glorious.

He didn’t stop kissing you for a moment, if anything he became more impassioned, biting and sucking your lips and tongue as his hips stuttered inside you. Even as his movements slowed, the kiss continued, slowing down but never stopping. When he realized you needed to breathe, he kissed the side of your mouth, your jaw, your back, and finally stilled inside you. You slowly collapsed down onto your forearms before allowing yourself to fully melt onto the table, cheek pressed to the cool surface while you tried to catch your breath.

You felt him soften a bit inside you but he refused to pull out.

You were a panting, drooling, dumb-fucked mess and when you felt him nibble at your ear the sensation distracted you enough to not hear whatever it was he just said.

“Huh?” You managed, dimly. He finally left you, gently rolling you back over to face him and allowing you to lie fucked out on the desk below him.

“How. Long?” This time he punctuated the words with kisses to your cheek and stared in your face waiting for an answer. His hand came up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek gently.

“How long what?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, (Y/N).” He growled and glared down at you. You knew what he was asking but smiled despite yourself as you replied;

“Whatever do you mean Enji?” You chewed your lip, your previous feeling of confidence and ecstasy dissipating rapidly. He refused to repeat himself so the two of you simply stared at one another awkwardly. “I told you, I just wanted to help.” You tried to cover. He had told you before any of this that he wanted it to be anyone but you, how could you possibly admit how you felt now?

“I know you do.” He said, with sudden certainty. “So answer the question before I have to punish you.” His cock twitched against you as if reminding you of his capability to do so. You instinctively bucked into him again, the overstimulation of you both causing the two of you to gasp.

“You know I do what? Enji, I do everything for you. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to help you with this too? Why would there be an ulterior-“

“You love me.” He clarified, not willing to tolerate your stalling anymore. “How. Long.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever. Ironic, really, considering what you had done.

“How long have I been working here?” You cracked a broken smile, feeling utterly pathetic.

“Five years, sixty-one days and fourteen hours.” He answered without hesitation. Your eyes widened as you studied his expression. What had been a stern gaze had become a soft smile, if not a little sad.

“There you have it.” You admitted. You both sat in the pregnant silence for a while.

“To hell with it.” He said, as if he had just decided something. He leaned down and kissed you again, with a gentle tender passion that slowly grew. You eagerly returned the kiss, feeling his length harden against you and his arms creep around your torso.

He pulled you up to a seated position- he picked you up and moved you to the couch in the center of his office. He laid you down gently, reaching over your head, feeling for something through your kiss until you heard a click. He had reclined the futon so it laid flat to give you both more room. You smiled into him, it was weirdly considerate and a little romantic of him.

You pulled at the hem of the top of his costume- wanting there to be nothing between you and he readily obliged. After doing so he brought your legs up over your head and peeled your stockings down one by one. Clearly, he felt the same. He removed those and your heels gently, and your skin prickled at his soft and careful touch.

This was certainly different.

You pulled away from the kiss, suddenly distracted by your own thoughts.

“Wait- I thought- has the quirk not worn off?” You were a little out of breath already again, his tender kisses were dizzying.

“It has.” He returned his lips to yours, slowly moving his hips back to adjust his angle before slowly pushing himself back inside of you. You gasped into his mouth as he began to make actual love to you, your brain slowly losing out to the sensations of pleasure.

“Enji-“ you moaned into his mouth.

“You’re mine now, (Y/N). I’m never letting you go.”

You spent the next several hours having a soft, gentle love making marathon. By the end of it, you simply passed out in his office, you wouldn’t be able to stand anyway.

He sent away for someone else to bring you some clothes; after all his secretary was busy at the moment. She would be for a long time.