#I've decided quirks can fight me

[faerielandtrolls]

Rhosak, your lusus is a chameleon right, did you inherit any chameleon-like abilities or qualities from it, or nah?

"Much like my dad, I'm able to cloak myself to blend in with my surroundings, although it's hard to do when most of my uniforms have bright fucking red streaks somewhere on them... But I guess that's just part of the job."

"And although it's different from his, I do have quite a long tongue~ But that's unimportant"

[tremendum]

Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary:  ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★  

"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy." 

you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze. 

"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then. 

you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table. 

it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to. 

even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms. 

you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day. 

you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it. 

"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.

his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic." 

you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.

so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.

the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter. 

but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal. 

"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks." 

you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him. 

he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood. 

you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.

"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off. 

the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.

you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck. 

"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox- 

you feel him before you see him, unfortunately. 

Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark. 

"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark. 

"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.

"hadn't noticed."

your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather. 

"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you. 

"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me." 

he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark. 

"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.

you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle. 

Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots." 

getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.

to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.  

"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.

"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.  

once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom.  "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe. 

seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.

he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.

 he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?" 

you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom." 

it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.

you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight. 

Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.

his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that. 

his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected. 

"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest. 

bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood." 

his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.

"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating. 

"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches. 

"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way. 

you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head. 

"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.

"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want." 

of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner." 

his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick. 

"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?" 

you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.

you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.

but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight. 

he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week." 

your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage. 

because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.

"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath. 

he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess." 

you stare at him for a moment.

his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?" 

your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.

it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter." 

he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.

but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?" 

but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.

his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more. 

"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?" 

you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you. 

he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?" 

does he even have to ask?

"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?" 

you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks. 

"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words. 

"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?" 

he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving. 

that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words. 

his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?" 

you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel." 

he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir." 

you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways." 

you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?" 

you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?" 

he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.

you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top. 

his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.

you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch. 

he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple. 

"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts. 

you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel. 

he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?" 

you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do." 

his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously." 

he smirks, "we'll see." 

and then he starts. 

you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest. 

his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you. 

your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed. 

"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left. 

"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right." 

he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat. 

you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen. 

you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.

"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you." 

when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder. 

you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.

you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.

his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern. 

you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it." 

you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress. 

his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck. 

he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart." 

you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. 

his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"

the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.

the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading. 

you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.

you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly. 

you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."

you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.

you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-

he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.

you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you. 

his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants. 

he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."

your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it." 

with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face. 

you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper. 

"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.

you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him. 

all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan. 

you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.

you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.

he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.

if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.

"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you. 

his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high. 

his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.

he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge. 

your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.

"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.

his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move." 

you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows. 

he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.

your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees. 

your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."

you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again. 

he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.

his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!" 

he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums. 

"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?" 

your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly. 

he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance. 

it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.

he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive. 

"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.

"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away. 

his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three." 

"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain." 

his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.

then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.

"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.

fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.

you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.

you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything. 

Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.

if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.

fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching. 

"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.

"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"

you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.

you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness. 

"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.

"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then." 

you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him. 

"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing." 

but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.

he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.

his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.

he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.

"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling. 

"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."

your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you. 

you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night." 

you believe him. 

he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.

he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense. 

his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit. 

you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.

the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.

"J-Joel- I can't," you wail. 

he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it." 

you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you. 

he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much- 

it hits you all at once. 

you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.

you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.

when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.

through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that. 

he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw. 

"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.

"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."

you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating -  but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully. 

"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon. 

and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.

it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.

occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise. 

he's like a man starved. 

and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.

he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.

he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.

he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.

you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking. 

it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.

instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back." 

he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.

you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.

he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.

"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest. 

"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that." 

besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.

he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face? 

he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him. 

"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember." 

he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.

you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.

you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once. 

"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..." 

he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.

he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.

"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in. 

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.

you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours. 

"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs. 

Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks. 

you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.

grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.

“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.

he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”

you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.

he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.

"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.

you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."

his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.

you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."

and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind. 

you do want something like that. you want exactly that. 

"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:

"-maybe we could get drinks sometime." 

taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]

@elissaaa @satansgoatt @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @silencesscreams @silkiers @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspams @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap  @userpedros @feministfanboi @buckyhoney @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @notsosecretspy @okyeeaaahhhh @thirdoffive @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @cutesyscreenname  @wannab-urs  @soooooyesbutactually-no @redhotkitchen @omlwhatamidoinghere @joelapologist2001 @leeeesahhh @bitchyikes   @bigboiseason123 @furseal1986 @mumma-moonchild @kamcrazy123 @pseudonymist @xyz32   @xlengueterax @suzmagine @sushiwriterhere @yourwinchesterbros @littlesuckyducky @worhols @hearthrooob @thatgingefromtheinternet @grhowls @letterstopedrito @those-late-night-feels @trashmuseum @holeforjoel @charismatic-writer @nervous-plant @sushiumex​  @undrthelights  @tarcinblue​ @fleursdecherise @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @thecasualnope @scarletthefierce

[habken]

If you're willing to share can you give a few reasons why you think Bakudeku works so well as a ship? (I also ship them and love your art!)

okay...

I think they just naturally fall into each other’s orbit. Living in each other's minds rent free 24/7. Their entire lives are so intertwined. Even when things were bad between them, there's never been a point where they haven't been part of each other's life in some capacity.

They've influenced each other so much you can see little habits they share and behaviours they've picked up from one another. Izuku acting more like Katsuki when he wants to win is the obvious one, but even little things like the way they think out loud and pinch their lips and stuff are similar.

I don't think it's right to undermine Katsuki's bullying and the falling out between them, but coming from a place where there's a lot of animosity and hurt and then having that turn into a relationship where they both mutually care for each other and challenge each other to do better and be better is really interesting.

I think that's part of the reason it's such a compelling relationship in general, not just in a romantic way. They start off at the lowest point - we see them at their absolute worst and then we get to watch as they mend that fractured friendship and build up a genuine and healthy bond.

To me personally, the trajectory of their relationship was evident as soon as episode two, when Katsuki chased after Izuku after the sludge villain to let him know how much he "didn't need his help." That's the point that I decided I was interested to see how their characters developed as the story kept going, and I think it was such a huge payoff.

I think it also made for a lot of interesting fanworks. In the earlier days especially, you really had to work at it to make things good between them. Canonically, their relationship really is a slow burn lol, so if you wanted to write something that followed close to the actual story, there had to be tons of build up. I've read stuff where the beats felt so similar to what happened in the actual series which is crazy. It's a ship that lends itself to deep and lengthy analysis and a lot of people ended up being pretty spot on because of that.

I also think what's special about them is how intentional they work to make things right between each other again. They want to know each other's feelings, they want to be rivals and fight alongside each other, and be neck in neck and constantly chasing after each other. They want to be close again. Izuku offering Katsuki an olive branch and asking him about his fighting style after their bout at ground beta and Katsuki finally grabbing onto it is such a turning point for their relationship. It's a conscious choice on both their parts to work towards mending what was between them.

And I could go on and on about Katsuki's character arc, but that's a different post lol. For simplicity's sake, his arc is about recognizing for himself where his weaknesses lie, seeing how his actions hurt and shaped Deku, and working not only on himself, but on repairing the rift between them that he caused. He works with Izuku, shares and keeps his secret, trains with him, and eggs him on more and more lightheartedly as the series goes on.

His choice to care for Izuku, let him into his life again, and make up for what he's done is really important. Nobody is really forcing him to atone for his past and it's his desire to do so despite the lack of external pressure that makes that change feel genuine and meaningful. Training with Deku to master his quirks, sacrificing himself for Izuku during their fight with shigaraki, apologizing to him in front of the entire class and letting go of his pride, choosing to call him by his given name, dying with Izuku's name on his lips, fighting the big bad and continuously repeating that when Izuku can't handle it, he'll step in for him - all of these things are so telling of the kind of care he purposefully put into their relationship, and the way he grew and changed throughout the story.

And I think that in light of everything else, the fact that they remain important to each other right until the end is what makes it such a beautiful relationship, no matter what context you want to see it in. They love each other! They can't imagine a world in which the other isn't part of their life, and they actively and continuously work to make that a reality.

They're soulmates that intentionally chose to be so.

[yesimwriting]

pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader

a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped

warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort

we're getting into reader's background!!

itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader

There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.

"How's your food?"

Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"

"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."

You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."

The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.

"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"

He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."

Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.

Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.

"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."

"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."

This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."

He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."

"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."

The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.

He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."

You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"

"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."

"Complicated?"

Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."

Oh.

"It's a boy."

Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.

You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.

"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."

That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."

He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"

"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."

Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."

"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."

The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."

You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."

"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."

Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."

----

Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.

You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.

And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.

It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.

Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.

hope ur weekend's going better than mine

lovie

i feel abandoned

Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.

After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.

The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.

But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.

It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.

You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.

Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.

ur back!

why didn't u tell me

i'm sick, can't hang out

are u ok

do u need anything

Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest

You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.

And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.

"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"

You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"

She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."

"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."

The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"

To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.

"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."

"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"

She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."

You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.

The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.

"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."

"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.

"I know!"

You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."

"Nadia called and told me the opposite."

You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"

"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."

Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.

"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"

You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.

"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.

"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."

"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"

You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."

Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."

You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...

Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."

Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.

"Then what is it?"

You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.

You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."

Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."

The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"

Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.

After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.

But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.

"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.

"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."

You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."

Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."

There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.

You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.

It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.

"Felix."

His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.

It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."

You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."

Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."

You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.

You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.

You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.

His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.

Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.

"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."

He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."

He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"

"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."

"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[simpforrooster]

he didn't stand a chance.

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x f!reader

summary: some weirdo keeps checking you out at the bar. you best friend seems like the perfect way to get him to leave you alone.

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for so long. totally forgot about it! i hope you like it!

~

The guy at the bar couldn't be more obvious in checking you out. You accidentally caught his eye when you walked in, scanning the room for Phoenix.

He's yet to come up to you, content on just making things weird from the way he watches you.

"Come on, let me say something to him," Phoenix presses, jonesing for a fight. You shrug her off, taking a sip of your cocktail.

He turns his attention toward Penny, and your shoulders relax.

Finally.

Before you can get comfortable, those eyes are back on you. He fixes you with a grin. A grin that suggests he's about to saunter over to you and start a conversation.

Panicking, you turn toward Rooster, your best friend. Your hot best friend. You take his Hawaiian shirt in your fist.

"Kiss me," you breathe.

His brows knit together. "What?"

Before his stupid mouth can mess up your plan, you yank his face down toward yours, capturing that stupid mouth. Rooster's surprise melts away as he takes your face in-between his hands. Deepening the kiss, one of Rooster's hands falls from your face. That hand finds a belt loop on your shorts, yanking you toward him. A gasp falls from your mouth at the feeling of your bottom half against his.

You pull back from him at Phoenix's cough. "Uhm. He's gone."

Rooster walks you backward until your back hits the pool table. Resting his forehead against yours, his breath strained.

His index finger lightly tilts your face up to him. You meet those gorgeous eyes and the realization of what happened hits you like a Mac Truck.

"What the fuck was that?" he murmurs.

"I've been dodging that guy at the bar all night," you explain.

"And instead of calling him out with one of your famous verbal beatings, you decide to attack me?" The corner of his mouth quirks up.

"I didn't attack you," you say. "You're the one who turned things almost borderline inappropriate."

He chuckles, his forehead still against yours. His eyes drop down to your mouth, and slowly come back up to your eyes. "I don't recall you stopping me."

"I needed to be sure that guy got the message."

"And what message is that?"

"That he didn't stand a chance."

masterlist.

[milliesfishes]

Hope you are having a GREAT DAY. Re read your fics multiple times omg. My ideas for requests would be either your take on a verbal fight happening with Billy and then the groveling and making up that comes after

Or reader witnessing Billy getting having to be violent and him worried that they’ll be scared of him now 😭😭😭😭

thank you so much bb love u 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

Your breathing was heavy, your hair tangled and skin sweaty as the waves of euphoria crashed over you. Tilting your head back, your arm fell over your head, breasts heaving. Billy, who'd been holding himself above you with his forearms, let himself collapse into you, his head resting on your chest.

He was sweaty too, and when he lifted his head, you saw some of his curls were stuck to his forehead. Billy smiled tiredly, taking your free hand and kissing the fingers. Then he rolled off of you, still lying on his side and facing you. Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but you could feel his on you.

Billy's arm found its way over you, thumb running up and down a little patch of skin. It was soothing, and you closed your eyes briefly, your heart still pounding.

His eyebrow quirked. Usually, you were so cuddly after sex. But today you were quiet, pulling the sheet up to cover your chest, one arm still flung above your head.

Settling in beside you, he kissed your shoulder, nudging his chin there. "You okay baby?"

Nodding, your eyes didn't leave the ceiling.

Billy sat up on his side, leaning on one arm and looking down at you, frowning. "Are ya sure?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, your hand fisting the sheet over your chest.

He reluctantly relented, despite knowing you weren't being truthful. Billy laid back down beside you, sliding his arm under your body and pulling you closer. Your position remained, keeping your arm where it was and your hand holding the sheet. He propped his chin up on your shoulder, exhaling softly, seeming to decide on telling you something.

"I've gotta leave again in the mornin'," he mumbled, looking over your face to gage a reaction. Your expression was unchanging, but you closed your eyes for a second, nodding.

Then, unexpectedly, you sat up fully, his arm remaining on the bed behind you. The sheet was abandoned, and you drew your knees to your chest, aware that your body was still bare. Your chin rested there, your hair falling over your shoulders and brushing your calves.

Billy watched you do all this before he sat up next to you. He'd known this would upset you. His hand came to your back, rubbing it in slow circles. "I know, I know I just got back, but I...I can't stay 'round for too long. These jobs Murphy's got us doin', they're takin' us all over the county."

You were numb to his explanation, and you turned to him, your legs falling flat on the bed, hands in your lap. "How long this time?"

He hummed, thinking about it, using his fingers to brush your hair behind your shoulder absentmindedly. "A week. Maybe two."

Looking down again, your fingers flexed. "And then what, you'll be back for another day and gone the next morning?" You'd known he was going to leave again soon. It had been on your mind all night. "You weren't even back for half of one this time."

He was surprised at you. Leaving as often and for as long as he did bothered you, he knew, but he hadn't known it bothered you this much. "Sweetheart...y'know this is what I hafta do. I gotta work, so we can really be together someday-"

"And what happens when we are together?" you asked, turning to look at him. "We'll always need money. Are you gonna keep leaving then too?"

Billy's hand fell from your back. "Where's this comin' from baby? You never had a problem with my work before."

"I'm tired of it!" the desperate words fell from your lips before you could think about it. "You leave for weeks then come into town for a few hours. It's the same every time. You ride in, send me a message, sleep with me, and then you're gone again."

Astonished at your outburst, he ran a hand over his face tiredly. "Dunno what ya want me to do baby, I can't control when Murphy wants me to go out."

Your knees bent again, and your elbows were propped up on them, your fingers curled into your palms and resting on your forehead. Eyes falling to the tangled bedsheets, your whisper was pathetic. "What am I doing?"

"Baby-" he shook his head, putting one hand on the side of your knee. One of his legs was bent, his other arm resting on it. "I'm trying, you gotta believe me. This is the best I can do. Murphy's payin' the best money I can get for my work-"

"That's not true," your hands fell from your face. "You told me about Tunstall."

"We've been over this." Billy sounded exasperated. "Can't leave the gang."

"You could though," you insisted, sitting on your knees now and facing him. "You could, and you'd be doing honest work for more, and you wouldn't be away so much-"

"Stop." His voice was firm, final, and you were taken aback. He'd never used a tone with you before. "You know the boys've done a lot for me. I ain't leavin' 'em."

"But you'll leave me?" your words were small.

Billy sucked in a breath frustratedly, shaking his head once, keeping it turned to the side. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing it as he tried to compose himself. "Baby...I ain't expectin' you to understand. You're too innocent, you don't know the things I've seen-"

"Innocent?" The usage of the term was a barb. You looked up at him, your doll eyes worried. "But I'm not...I'm not innocent."

He turned his head back to face you, a confused frown gracing his features. "What're you on about... 'course you're innocent."

"But we've..." you gestured down to the scene, to your bare bodies and messy sheets. His eyes followed your hand, and his face clouded with understanding, moving closer to you as he realized.

"Baby," he started, putting his hand on your thigh. The weight of it was warm. "Makin' love don't take your innocence away. You're mixin' up innocence 'n virginity."

"But..." you shook your head, crossing your arms over your breasts, feeling shy suddenly. "It isn't...it's not..."

"It ain't a sinful thing if you do it for the right reasons," he said gently, rubbing your thigh soothingly. "It's a natural act honey...not a bad thing when it's with someone you love. Like when we do it."

You felt stupid, looking down as it washed over you. It couldn't...it was so confusing. Everyone had always acted like it was some dangerous thing that would make you horrible if you did it. What kind of cruel secret was this? Making you feel foolish, making you feel like you should've somehow already known.

Billy could see your internal battle, and he tilted your head up with his palm on your cheek, his eyes reassuring. "Baby...the kinda innocence I'm talkin' about is in your soul. You're a good girl. Ain't ever done anythin' bad to no one. That's what makes you innocent. And I love that about you, okay? There's nothin' to be ashamed of. Not with me."

How he was saying it made sense, but you still felt embarrassed for not knowing. Your eyes fell from his face. He exhaled softly, seeming to know you were beating yourself up. "It ain't your fault you didn't know. Don't do that."

"I'm innocent," you repeated. "I'm too innocent to understand you?"

Billy winced as you recalled his words from earlier. "That was a poor choice 'f words. You just...you're...you're..."

"What?" you searched his eyes, worried over what he was going to say next.

Billy opened his mouth, then closed it, sighing. His shoulders slumped. He raised both his hands to your face, thumbs stroking the sides of your face, a half-smile turning his lips up slightly. "Beautiful. And kind. And good. You're my angel."

Your eyes pleaded with him. "Billy."

"You really felt like this the whole time?" he asked, concernedly tracing a finger down your cheek. "Musta been eatin' ya up inside..."

"It's fine," you shook your head, wanting to rid yourself of embarrassment. "It's...I..."

Billy sighed, clicking his tongue. The backs of his fingers pressed against your fingers, and he pushed your hair from your face. "All this time...you coulda..."

Could have told him. You couldn't have. Not with him slipping in and out of your life like a needle running out of thread, dipping over and under fabric. He stopped himself before he could say the rest, realizing his mistake.

"I don't wanna leave you baby," he promised in a whisper, looking down into your eyes. "I hate it, you know. Always feel like I'm usin' you, sleepin' with you and then hittin' the road again."

Tears pricked your eyes at his words. Because that was how you felt sometimes too, though you felt guilty for it. It obviously wasn't true. But that didn't erase the feeling.

Billy could see all this on your face, and his expression saddened. He leaned in, kissing your forehead. "'M sorry." He kissed your cheek. "'M so sorry baby." Then your other cheek. "'M sorry." Your nose. Then your lips, capturing them and leaning against you. "Don't deserve ya...I know that."

You sniffled, feeling overwhelmed. Billy noticed, pressing his mouth to yours again, his kiss gentle. He pulled you into his arms, his big hand pressing your head into his chest. It was then that your tears fell, everything swirling inside you like a never-ending storm. His lips dropped to the top of your head. "Kinda man am I, huh? M' sweet baby's cryin' causa' me."

A little sob escaped you, and he tensed slightly, rubbing your side. Now that your tears were falling, it seemed they wouldn't stop. Billy arm remained around you protectively as your body shook. "I know...I know pretty, I know."

"It's been so hard Billy," you choked in a broken whisper. "All those nights in between...some of them we didn't even talk, just..."

Crashing through the door. Kissing, touching. Waking up alone.

He nodded, squeezing you tighter and kissing your head again. "'M sorry sweetheart. 'M so sorry." Billy pulled you away slightly so he could look into your eyes, holding the sides of your face. "'M gonna do better for you. This ain't worth it if it's hurtin' you." He thought for a moment, resting his chin on your forehead as he did. "Maybe I can sit this next job out. Figure out what to do next."

Billy didn't make promises he didn't keep, and this whispered one against your hair lit a candle in your heart. "You will?"

"Yeah," he whispered comfortingly. "Maybe I can..." he exhaled, then nodded. "I'm gonna go talk to Tunstall."

You searched his eyes in disbelief. "Really?"

He smiled fondly, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. "Yeah baby. I shoulda done that awhile ago. The boys'll do just fine without me."

"It's a big change Billy," you murmured. Even though this was what you wanted him to do, you were worried about the repercussions. "Murphy-"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. He's gotta understand. I got my girl to think of." Billy nudged his nose against your forehead, then kissed it. "I needa keep the girl I got to think of. 'N doin' the long jobs he gives the gang ain't gonna help with that."

You smiled softly, throwing your arms around his neck, holding him close. "You'd do all that for me?"

"Yeah," he breathed, rubbing your back. "I was supposedly doin' these jobs for ya to begin with. But we're gonna change things up. Make it all better."

Billy kissed your forehead as the last of your tears dried. "It's all gonna be better."

come talk about billy here!

[morhido]

I've been lost in the owl house sauce for about three years and as a result i've mentally compiled a list of the characters' speech patterns and body language. Then i realised i should probably do something with that information and decided to jot it all down :>>

This is just gonna be the hexsquad for now since my lists for other characters are fairly sparse but additions/requests are welcome! Mayhaps i'll add to it in the future sjdkshskj

(The 'other' category is for general quirks, or things that just didn't fit the other categories)

LUZ:

• Happy/excited: stamps feet with high knees, squeaks/makes high pitched sounds, makes fists and brings them to her chest/face

• Sad: will initially deny if she's upset, whether she fesses up is up to circumstance. Lowers her head, can become unresponsive, becomes tired, voice will generally remain quiet and flat even if something cheers her up, empathetic crier

• Stressed/overwhelmed: repeats phrases over ("no no no, you're belos, you're just belos!"), falls to her knees or puts on hood when overwhelmed, acts overly casual to compensate for her panicking ("yikes, my dude"), protective of others when in physical danger (usually holds amity's head). More comedically, can often make unnecessary/dramatic gestures (e.g. spinning, cartwheeling, flopping to the floor) when stressed

• Angry: gets louder, sometimes unwilling to hear the other person out, becomes very physical, loses volume control (often to her own detriment), sticks her elbows out to look more intimidating. More comedically, will sometimes make animal noises/gestures (e.g. hissing and clawing)

• Other: often prematurely assumes that people will react poorly to her ("she's gonna embarrass herself, i can't watch!" / "if amity sees this, she'll think i'm such a loser!" / "what if the palisman doesn't like me?"), can accidentally be inconsiderate of other people in favour of her impulse, resorts to violence quickly and generally doesn't try to make peace with adults, very easily becomes rambly with strong emotion and can repeat words and phrases, can become loud and panicky during combat if her goal is self-preservation but becomes much more focused if fighting with/protecting other people

WILLOW:

• Happy/excited: becomes very active and touchy, very straightforward, taps toes, will be oblivious if others are intimidated by her, voice pitches up when excited

• Sad: draws herself in, becomes quiet, looks down/closes her eyes, isolates herself, can become less responsive, talks to herself

• Stressed/overwhelmed: loses control of magic, covers hair, voice pitches up when extremely nervous, very rarely acts on impulse even when scared, high-pitched squeaks/screams when startled

• Angry: vines grow from the ground beneath her, shows vocal disdain for whatever is upsetting her, can become very sardonic ("you want me to give up? You want me to admit how stressed i am?"), can go from high and stern when upset ("you just met them, give them a chance!") to low and loud when fully angry ("what advice could you POSSIBLY give me??")

• Other: denial is default coping mechanism, very often does the gag of pretending to be intimidating and then doing something sweet/cute, will be oblivious to the other person's fear when this happens, love language is physical touch, makes her feelings known unless she's specifically not trying to upset people, can speak pretty formally ("enchanting!", "how dare you?"), talks to herself in second person when hyping herself up, takes offensive role in combat

AMITY:

• Happy/excited: voice can get louder, smiles with teeth when extremely excited, becomes more impulsive with what she says and does

• Sad: raises voice when trying to make a point, voice cracks, becomes quieter with remorse, remains very quiet and calm when comforting/confiding in someone else

• Stressed/overwhelmed: s1 amity would get extremely defensive if any vulnerability was exposed ("help? All you're doing is prying into your friends' lives!"), rambles when flustered, holds hem of skirt when she's nervous/doesn't know what to do, also generally moves hands a lot when nervous, attempts to leave situations that are upsetting her, high-pitched screams when startled (does this less throughout the series as she becomes more on-guard and impulsive)

• Angry: often gets louder and more animated (e.g. her trying to break out of the dome in clouds on the horizon), face turns red, pushes away the source of her anger, doesn't usually stay angry for long, moves her body forward (e.g. pointing, gesturing, or actually stepping forwards), will often stick her arms straight at her sides

• Other: generally uncomfortable leaving her comfort zone but extremely confident in fields that she already excels in, extremely accepting of change in other people, arguably the second most impulsive of the hexsquad (especially regarding luz's safety) and uses fire to solve a lot of her problems, will take control of a situation when she knows she's in the right ("you're gonna listen to me for once"), usually very perceptive to others' emotions

GUS:

• Happy/excited: draws fists up to face, big gestures (especially with hands/arms)

• Sad: self-blames/depricates ("yeah. It's all my fault"), curls up with his arms and head on his knees, usually very vocal about being upset with something, "you've done it again, augustus" (in the context of being tricked by someone), can remain in this state for a long time, draws in on himself but doesn't push other people away

• Stressed/overwhelmed: loses control of magic (finds it difficult to discern reality from illusions), often hides behind willow when scared, laughs/smiles nervously when anxious or flustered, can get tunnel vision on the thing that's upsetting him

• Angry: stays level-headed and doesn't often raise his voice, speech becomes more emphatic, can become snarkier ("hey belos, remember me?"), remains distant from the subject of his anger, usually stays in a stance

• Other: very eager to prove himself whenever he has the opportunity (love language is acts of service), most willing to resort to violence ("nobody's dying" "not with that attitude", usually in a joking manner), most annoyed by his friends' shenanigans but always willing to tag along, makes big gestures (especially when emphasising something), sometimes repeats phrases when feeling strong emotions ("gus? Nickname? HUMAN nickname?? GUS???" / "wait × 6, is this really what you wanna be doing with your life?")

HUNTER:

• Happy/excited: extremely animated with his hands, voice gets louder, becomes very confident. Is very playful and arrogant when in golden guard mode and will usually try to show off or start relying on empty threats

• Sad: voice goes quiet and airy, voice cracks, can become raspier

• Stressed/overwhelmed: doesn't like to be touched when upset, is overwhelmed by affection and will often start crying, goes silent and dissociates when processing upsetting information, voice cracks, becomes extremely snappy and irritable from long-term stress, freezes under pressure, draws in on himself when panicking, goes silent when flustered

• Angry: becomes grumpy when things don't go his way, is extremely animated and expressive when actually angry, can become sardonic, raises voice, makes small movements (e.g. shaking leg or pacing small area). As golden guard, would try to physically intimidate the other person (e.g. looming over or walking towards them)

• Other: doesn't tend to self-blame and will either pass the fault onto someone else ("you got us trapped in the emperor's mind!"), or acknowledge when someone else was in the wrong ("you were tricked. That's what belos does, he tricks people"). Almost never initiates combat and plays a more defensive role, extremely theatrical/expressive and talkative (will have to actively restrain himself to not talk about something), squeaks a lot

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud | Part 1 | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: So I decided to start this instead of the Reiner one (which I have some drafts off for the future don't worry. But I'm currently rewatching the show right now so I'm just particularly more inspired by this one. So if/when I do the AOT one I'm not sure. Most likely not for a while unless I feel super inspired by it. And if so I'll probably write it all out and then post it on an additional day once a week. Since I usually post Break Me Slowly on Monday and now this on Tuesday, if I decide to do it I most post it on a Wednesday basis. I'm not sure. Also this won't follow canonical story line! For a little background, reader's hero name is Shade, and their quirk is that they can create shadow copies of their enemies. But thank you for reading and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

==============================================

The world's symbol of peace and justice, a hero for all. Great and mighty. People all across the world knew him, he was the ultimate authority on this planet. Respected and revered.

All Might. The Symbol of Peace.

As a pro, Shade of course respected him above all other heroes, he was the ultimate role model that everyone should look up to and adore. Admittedly that had to do with her desire to become just like him since she was a bit of a fangirl. But regardless, there was nothing so bad about wanting to follow his ideals, was there?

She was determined to meet him one day and make an impression. Hopefully, he would see her talent and invite her to be one of his sidekicks. It wouldn't be totally uncommon, Sir Nighteye was already his right hand man, surely a hero as busy as him could use some more help to keep Japan in its state of reigning peace.

Ever since she was little she dreamed of becoming a pro just like him, she enjoyed watching his battles and keeping up with the news of his latest feats to inspire herself even on her daily commute, who wouldn't want a chance to impress their idol by embodying the same ideals he has?

Besides, her success as a pro was...lacking, to say the least. Her quirk was impressive enough, creating shadows of her enemies and even comrades to fight with her in battle. However the problem lied with the fact that some people believed her quirk seemed rather villainous from outward perspective, apart from some of the teens who enjoyed more intense heroes she had a small fanbase. Most of the ones who did follow her stopped after they discovered her personality didn't match her hero persona at all.

A boost from All Might's agency would really help her brand.

Eventually she could go out more on her own and maybe in form a team with her new found friend and mentor.

"Wake up Shade! Unless you want to be sprayed with acid in the face!?"

On the scene of the crime several pros faced off against a dastardly villain, his quirk was to spew acid from his mouth, and the power of it was disintegrating her shadows. It always seemed like the moment she had a chance to make a name for herself it was against a villain who completely outmatched her quirk type.

"I'm awake, okay? I've got it."

Nothing was able to touch this villain, all hope seemed to be lost until the laugh she had gotten so familiar with filled the air.

"Fear not citizens, hope has arrived!"

An expression of wonder and awe comes across her face when the gust of wind followed by the monstrous form of the Number One Hero steps into the scene.

"Because I am here."

One punch is all it ever took for the criminals to surrender and admit defeat, but this was the first time she had seen him in a professional setting, he was even more amazing then she ever could have believed!

Now was her chance to become a hero just like him.

============================================

"Well done fellow pros, that evil-doer was certainly a heavy hitter, but all of your valiant efforts to keep the peace are much appreciated." His smile never wavered.

"You were amazing All Might, I think I can speak for all of us when we say thank you for saving our butts back there. None of our quirks were really suited for it." Shade's giddy expression never left, truly in awe of the man before her.

"Anytime, but I don't think I've seen you before, still a newbie I take it."

She blushes ever so slightly. "Yes sir, I'm just starting out, my hero name is Shade, it's super nice to meet you-"

"The pleasure is all mine ma'am," His stare was piercing, as if deciding if she really was a hero. "now I must be off, a hero's always got somewhere to be!"

With that he flew off, leaving her behind even more inspired than before.

"He's the most amazing hero in the universe, one day I'll be just like him-"

==============================================

All Might returned to Nighteye religiously pouring over his computer screen, only around his sidekick could the hero's mask fall slightly. His smile disappearing.

"Excellent work on that takedown, your approval rating keeps going up."

"I want you to do something for me. There's a new hero in town, goes by Shade. A newcomer. Find out everything you can about her."

"Why? Another one of your little projects?"

"You could say that."

"All Might this is twice this year now."

"Does that matter? It's not my fault the last ones couldn't handle me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll find what I can. But go easy this time, alright? I barely was able to cover it up last time."

"Agreed. I'll be more careful."

He shut the door behind him to his personal quarters, staring down at the city below. Being the strongest in the world came with a deep sense of dissatisfaction, he was untouchable, unbreakable.

He needed something to break.

[sentientgolfball]

Forget Yourself

SO sorry it's been so long since I've posted any writing. I've been very busy with work and swim and crocheting ghouls

18+ MDNI

Read here or on Ao3

Word Count: 3959

Pairing: Raindrop

Tags: Sir/mean Rain, forcefem, subby Dew, dubcon (kinda?? idk I'm tagging it to be safe)

Summary: Rain gets Dew a little something to make him pretty.

“You want me to what?” 

“Put it on.” 

Dew stares dumbfounded at Rain. He’s too nonchalant about this. He’s sitting in the chair across from the vanity, dress shirt half unbuttoned, suit jacket rumpled, and legs slightly spread. Dew can’t believe it. Rain is staring at him expectantly as casually as if he asked him the weather. As if he didn’t just say—

“Put on the dress Dewdrop.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing when he says it this time. 

He’s joking. He has to be. He’s baiting him so he can snap a picture and send it to the others to laugh at. He swallows, throat dry as he challenges Rain’s cold expression. He’s stubborn. He’s not going to let Rain get the better of him. 

“I won’t ask again, Dew. Put it on or leave.” 

Both of those options sound horrible. He doesn’t want to put the dress on, he doesn’t even look at it. But he was the one who followed Rain back to his room after their little night on the town. He could’ve gone to bed, could’ve trailed after anyone else, but he picked Rain. How was he supposed to resist when he was in that dark suit? The little bit of makeup making his eyes pop. The way he squeezed Dew’s ass and muttered filth in his ear while they were walking back to the Ministry. He can’t be blamed for following Rain like a little lovesick puppy. 

Now though, he almost wished he would have taken Mountain up on his offer to visit his nest. Almost. He still hasn’t decided if getting hunted through the woods by a feral earth ghoul is better or worse than this. He has half a mind to turn away, but the shadow in Rain’s eyes keeps him rooted in place. Rain quirks an eyebrow. Waiting. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dew glances at the dress. It’s laid out on Rain’s bed. It's black, perfectly matching Rain’s suit. Strapless. Small. The back is cut out. He briefly wonders if Rain raided Aurora’s closet for this. He looks back to Rain. 

“What if I don’t want to?” 

“You do,” Rain replies coolly. 

Dew opens his mouth to retort, but he can’t find anything. Rain wouldn’t stop him if he walked out, he knows this. But the way he looks at him feels like a test. Like he’s daring Dew to turn and run. A mouse caught by the cat. 

He can’t. 

“What,” he clears his throat, “what happens if I put it on?” 

The corner of Rain’s mouth twitches up, “You’ll get to be my good girl.” 

Dew’s head snaps back to stare at Rain, mouth slightly agape and a blush dusting his cheeks. There’s no way he heard him right. 

“What did you just say?” 

Rain’s fangs flash in the low light of the room, “You’ll get to be my good girl. You want that right? You want to be good for me?” 

There’s not much that can leave a ghoul like Dewdrop speechless, this is one. It’s no secret Dew desires praise, aches for it. Let’s himself be broken down in every way just to be put back together with soft hands and softer words. This feels different though. This feels like a trap. A threat. Rain is luring him in and he’s utterly helpless to his siren song. 

Still, he refuses to go down without a fight. He steps over to the bed. He can feel Rain’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he rubs the fabric between thumb and forefinger. An image of himself in it flashes through his mind and he hates the way he can feel his pants get just a bit tighter. He looks over at Rain. He’s sitting with his head resting against his knuckles, expression unreadable. Rain is patient. He’ll play this game all night if he has to, won’t give up unless Dew turns and leaves. 

“Go ahead and undress baby. It’s not going to put itself on.” 

Dew wants to throw it at him. Tell him he’s not doing it. Instead, he begins to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands. Maybe if he just focuses on Rain’s watchful gaze he can ignore the dress. Maybe if he puts on a good enough show Rain will forget about it and fuck him into the mattress. So he goes slow with it, dragging his hand down his torso once the last button pops open. He doesn’t tug it off, not yet. Instead, he unbuckles his belt, sliding it from around his hips to clatter to the floor. He doesn’t break eye contact with Rain when he drags his zipper down. Not even a blush from him. He almost looks bored watching Dew strip. It annoys and arouses him at the same time and he hates it. He shrugs his shirt off before sliding his pants off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. 

He stalks towards Rain, ignoring the slight tremor in his legs. He stops in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. He peers down at him with a grin, hair falling over his shoulders. 

“C’mon Rainy. Forget about the dress, you’re just gonna have to take it off me later.” 

Rain stares up at him, stoic. Silent. Dew huffs. He’ll get a reaction out of him. He knows all his soft spots. He makes a move to climb into his lap, but Rain grabs his wrist. Hard. He squeezes and Dew can feel his heartbeat. His eyes flick up to meet his. He’s scowling now, dark eyes somehow darker. Still, he doesn’t say anything. It makes Dew feel weird. He can handle degradation, praise, annoyance, genuine hate but it’s the silence that’s making his skin prickle. He feels the need to fill it, feels like maybe if he talks enough he can get something out of Rain. 

“Really? You don’t want this?” He scoffs “What have you done with my Rainy? He’d never pass up an opportunity to get his hands on me.” 

Silence. 

“If you take that suit off I’ll stick my tongue in your gills so deep you’ll be able to taste me.” 

Silence. 

“C’mon, we can go down to the lake. Let you use that big, thick tentacle on me.” 

Silence. 

Dew feels insane in the worst way possible. He prides himself on his mouth, the filth he can spew from it, loves watching his partner blush and squirm. But Rain isn’t. He’s not doing anything. He’ll take the faintest twitch, a hum, an eye roll, as long as it’s something. If Rain isn’t reacting then what’s the point? Why is he still here? If Rain isn’t interested in him then why does he want to stay? To prove himself maybe. Prove that despite the coldness Rain has given him since they entered his room he can get him to bend. He knows what he needs to do to get that and he hates it. But he hates the silence more. 

He sighs, “You’re really going to make me put it on, aren’t you?”

Finally, Rain speaks “I’m not making you do anything, baby. You clearly want this.” 

His eyes flick down to the tent in Dew’s boxers. 

He blushes, heat spilling down his throat and over his chest “That’s not…it’s because you’re in that fucking suit. We’ve had this conversation before fuck off.” 

Rain coos “That’s why I need you to put the dress on baby, you’ll be such a pretty accessory for me.” 

Dew’s cock kicks hard, the thin material of his underwear doing little to hide it. Rain huffs the faintest laugh. 

“Come on baby, don’t you want to be pretty for me?“

A million different responses zap through Dew’s head. 

No. 

Go fuck yourself. 

I already am pretty. 

You wear my hand as a necklace, what more do you need? 

But the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a mumbled “Yes.” 

Rain tilts his head, eyes narrowing, “What was that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

He swallows. He knows what Rain wants him to say. He knows because every time Rain gets like this Dew can’t help but resist. The word always burns and he isn’t totally sure if it feels good or not. He hates the way it makes his blood boil while simultaneously making him wet. 

“Yes…sir.” 

“Good girl,” Rain purrs, “Now hurry up. You’ve wasted enough of my time.” 

Dew steps away from Rain, standing before the bed. He can feel his heart pounding when he picks it up. He slowly turns it around so the back is facing him. He takes a deep breath before lifting it to slip it on over his head. He barely gets his arms raised though before Rain clears his throat. Dew turns to look at him, expression a mix of annoyance and questioning. 

“I believe I told you to undress.” 

Dew cocks his head, “I’m literally standing in my underwear.” It hits him the moment the words leave his mouth. 

“Oh. Oh, come on you can’t be serious.” 

“Didn’t even have to tell you, good job,” Rain smiles, “Go ahead.” 

“Fuck you.” Dew hisses as he slides his boxers down his legs. 

Rain gives a hum of approval once Dew is fully naked and something in him twists. He hasn’t heard that familiar little sound all night and suddenly he feels like he’s starving for it. He wants more of Rain’s approval. Part of him is still apprehensive about the dress, but the other part doesn’t care now that Rain is finally looking at him like he’s worth something. 

He’s still shaking slightly when he begins to put it on. It slides on easily, a little tight, but not uncomfortably so. He adjusts it around his chest until he’s sure it won’t just fall off. He turns back towards Rain, arms crossed over his chest. He keeps his eyes forward, he doesn’t want to risk catching a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror. He’s scared of what might happen if he does. 

“Happy?” He glares at Rain. 

“Come here.” He holds a hand out. 

Dew hesitates but doesn’t protest. He walks over to Rain, his typical perfect posture gone. He’s slightly hunched, arms still over his chest. Protective. He grabs Rain’s outstretched hand and is very roughly pulled to stand between his legs. He nearly falls over with the force of it, catching himself on Rain’s chest. 

Rain smiles at him, eyes half-lidded. He brings his other hand up to cup Dew’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. 

“You look beautiful.” 

Dew’s heart stutters. It’s not the first time he’s heard him say it, but something about it in this context makes his head swim. But then he’s ripped from it with a sudden zap of pain. It takes him a moment to process what the fuck just happened. He brings his hand up to his cheek and he can feel the heat radiating off it and he quickly realizes. Rain slapped him. He blinks and shakes his head. He hadn’t even registered it until he felt the sting. His revelation must be clear as day because Rain laughs at him. 

“Out of it already are we? Did you even hear me?” 

Dew shakes his head, hand still running over the mark. He occasionally pushes down just to feel it burn. 

“I said that was for wasting my time. Now you have to make it up to me baby.” 

Dew doesn’t even have time to respond before he feels Rain’s hand grip the hair at the base of his skull. Rain knocks his knees against the back of Dew’s with enough force it makes his buckle. He hits the floor hard, unable to catch himself from the suddenness of it. When he goes down it causes Rain to pull on his hair and the noise that comes out of him is utterly pathetic. He stares up at Rain, chest rising and falling rapidly. Rain tugs again. 

“Be a good girl and show me how sorry you are.” 

All of the fight Dew had earlier is gone. Melted out of his ears with how fast Rain’s demeanor changed. He gives up, gives in. With shaking hands, he unzips Rain’s pants and pulls the waistband of his boxers down. His cock springs free, bobbing and slapping against his stomach. The only sign he’s even been affected by the night's events thus far. He’s already wet at the tip, beads of pre dripping onto the floor. He scoots ever so slightly to sit closer on the edge of the chair. 

“Go on.” He shakes Dew’s head minutely, tugging his hair again. 

Dew swallows hard, throat clicking before he darts his tongue out. He flicks it over the tip, chasing the dribbles of pre. Tasting just to taste. He wants to tease but he knows Rain won’t let him, not when he’s like this. Any other night Dew would push his luck, make the inevitable punishment worse, but he can’t. Not when Rain’s fried his brain with a mix of praise and degradation. He feels floaty. 

Rain’s thighs flex under Dew’s palms, bringing him back to the ground. He scoots forward on already aching knees to wrap his lips around the tip of Rain’s cock. He suckles on it until another drop of pre hits his tongue. He drinks him down, savoring him. He doesn’t get long though before Rain begins to push his head down with the grip he has on his hair. Dew lets him, relaxing his jaw and throat so Rain can feed it to him. He doesn’t stop until Dew’s nose is nestled in the dark curls at the base of his cock. Drool dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. Rain wipes it off with his thumb and coos. 

“There you go, knew you could be such a good girl for me.” 

Dew moans and the vibration goes right through Rain’s dick, making him shudder. 

“See I told you you wanted it. Just needed a little encouragement didn’t you baby?” Rain flexes his hips, shoving himself in that much further. 

He starts to fuck his throat, slowly at first. Barely pulling out before pushing back in, more of a grind. He twists his fingers through individual strands of hair, twirling them around his fingers before pulling. Every tug sends a jolt down Dew’s spine. His hips twitch forward of their own accord, seeking any friction on his aching cock. 

Rain is happy to oblige. Dew gasps, gagging on Rain’s dick when he feels the rough sole of his shoe press against him through the dress. He pulls off of him with a pop, looking up with big eyes as he sucks in air. Rain tsks and grips the underside of his jaw, applying pressure at the hinges. 

“I try to give you a reward for being so good and you disappoint me. How sad.” 

Dew tries to respond but all he gets out is a weak little sound before Rain pulls him in, shoving his cock all the way down his throat. He doesn’t start slow this time. He holds Dew’s head still while he thrusts into his mouth. Dew’s claws dig into the meat of Rain’s thighs, trying to focus on keeping himself relaxed and open. Obscene wet noises fill the otherwise quiet room. Rain can’t look away from the fucked out look on Dew’s face, eyes half-lidded and glassy. He applies just a touch more pressure with his foot. Dew jolts forward from the sensation, making the tip of his cock rut against the leather. He groans and Rain’s eyes flutter closed. 

The little bit of friction is enough to clear his head, but nowhere near enough to actually get him off. He becomes acutely aware of the way the fabric of the dress clings around him, sticky and wet. Dew huffs a breath of air through his nose and swallows around Rain. He’s able to keep his reaction in check save for the way his hand tightens in Dew’s hair. He does it again, licking across the vein on the underside of his cock this time. 

Before he knows what’s happening he’s being pulled off Rain. He forces him to look up at him. A mix of drool and pre makes his swollen lips shiny. The yellow blaze of his eyes is nearly consumed by black with how big his pupils are. 

“Come here baby stand up,” Rain coos. 

He gets up slowly, knees screaming as he does. He’s sure if he looks down he’ll see bruises already forming. The thought alone makes his stomach twist tighter. He goes easy as Rain pulls him into his lap. He wiggles his hips just a bit feeling his cock press against him. Rain’s hand holds his hips, fingers trailing dangerously close to the hem of the dress. Dew can feel the faintest prickle of claws against his skin. 

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, you know that?” 

Dew nods with a hum. 

“Words baby. I need to know you’re still with me.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Come on you can do better than that.” Rain squeezes his ass. 

Dew’s breath hitches. It takes him a moment to find his voice. “I have…I’ve been a good girl for you sir.” 

Rain grins, fangs glinting. Predatory. “Do you know what good girls get?” 

Dew shakes his head, not trusting his voice. Thankfully Rain allows it this time. He gasps when he feels Rain’s fingertip press against his asshole. He kisses across his gill scars before bringing his lips to Dew’s ear. 

“Good girls get my cock.” 

Rain traces around Dew’s rim before pushing it in. Dew fists his hand in Rain’s dress shirt, clinging to him while he slowly works that finger inside. He curls it, searching for the spot that will make Dew keen. It doesn’t take him long to find it, years of practice making it easy. Dew lets out a choked little moan, grinding his hips down to make it sink in farther. 

Rain decides to take it further, pulling the first finger out until just the tip is inside. When he pushes back in, a second finger is added, stretching Dew more. He curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out and reveling in the wet sound it produces. He doesn’t drag it out though. He scissors his fingers, working Dew open as quick as he can stand. It's not much longer before he’s pulling out of him and wiping the slick that coats his hand on Dew’s thigh. 

Rain hoists the material of the dress up to rest on Dew’s scrawny hips, exposing him. He lifts him just enough to brush the tip of his cock against his hole. Dew squirms in his grasp, trying and failing to sink down on him. Rain digs his claws in, a warning. By some miracle Dew listens, stilling his movements to let Rain guide him. He makes a pleased noise, sucking a mark in the space between his jaw and ear. 

All at once he shoves Dew down onto his cock. He yelps at the suddenness of it, but Rain doesn’t give him time to adjust. He sets a brutal pace, thrusting up into him. The chair creaks with the force of it. Dew whines with each pass over his prostate, arms wrapped tight around Rain’s shoulders. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Taking me so well.” 

“Rain.” Dew gasps, rutting his hips against his stomach. 

Rain huffs a laugh. “What is it? Need a hand on your pretty little clit?” 

Dew clenches hard and it nearly makes Rain choke. He takes that as a yes, shoving his hand under the fabric of the dress. Dew bucks forward the moment Rain wraps his hand around his cock, giving him a firm squeeze. He twists his fist around his head, gathering slick. He strokes him quick and short, pulling reedy little moans from Dew. 

It’s all so much so fast. He never really recovered from how Rain’s demeanor kept changing. The way he’s driving into him is such a sweet mix of pleasure and pain it makes him feel like he’s burning. The hand on his dick just adds a layer of sweetness to it all that makes his balls draw close to his body. The final nail in the coffin comes when Rain whispers into his ear. 

“Look at you. Look how beautiful you are sweet thing.” He tugs his hair, making his head turn. 

For the first time that evening, Dew sees himself. He makes eye contact with himself in the vanity mirror and it makes his brain short circuit. His hair is a mess. His cheeks are red, flushed, he can’t tell what’s blush and what’s from Rain smacking him. The dress is bunched up enough he can see Rain fucking into him. His eyes are half lidded and glassy. He looks fucked out, absolutely debauched. He catches Rain’s eye and it’s over for him. He cums without warning, gasping and spilling all over Rain’s knuckles. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, so wet for me.” Rain strokes him through it, milking him until he squirms from overstimulation. 

“Clean up your mess baby.” Rain doesn’t give him a moment to recover, bringing his hand up to Dew’s face. 

He doesn’t hesitate. He lets his tongue unfurl, wrapping it around Rain’s fingers to suck his spend off. Rain watches his eyes roll to the back of his head when he tastes himself. Rain curses under his breath, hips slamming into him one more time. He cums with a low, drawn-out groan. He grinds against him, driving his release deep into him. 

He pants heavily, head resting against Dew’s shoulder. He can feel Dew shaking and he presses kisses all over his exposed neck and collarbone. He rubs his hands up and down his back, muttering genuine praise between each press of lips. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much for indulging for me Dew. You did so good for me, took it all so well.” 

Dew whines, clinging harder to Rain. He runs his fingers through his hair, soothing the ache in his scalp. The feeling of claws gently scratching relaxes him, going limp in Rain’s hold. Dew nuzzles into his neck and breathes deep. 

They stay like that for a long time, long enough that Rain goes soft and slips out of him. Neither of them wants to move. They should, Rain’s suit needs cleaned before it stains and Dew needs to get into something more comfortable. But they’re hesitant to break the hazy, warm spell. Eventually, though Rain sighs and presses another kiss just below his ear. 

“Come on spark, we can’t sit here all night. Let’s get you clean.” 

Dew hisses “Says who?” 

“Says me,” Rain laughs. He stands, picks Dew up, and walks with him to the bathroom. 

He takes care of him quickly, yet efficiently. He cleans him up with a warm, soft rag until he feels him sag. He rubs a soothing hand over his bruised knees the whole time. He gets Dew dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of his boxers, kissing over his face when it pops through. He peels his suit off and dumps it into his laundry bin. He’s usually more conscious of his clothes, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. Dew picks up the dress off the floor and hands it to him. 

“Rora’s gonna kill us if it stains.” 

Rain smiles at him. “Well, it’s a good thing Mist knew why I needed to borrow it.” 

He wishes he could take a picture of the look on Dew’s face.

[mochiajclayne]

can you tell I love lawlu's alliance so much with the number of posts I've made about it but I like to think that at some point, their alliance won't work casually and law figured that out within five minutes after proposing it, hence, he needed to reiterate whenever he gets the chance because he's already been involved with luffy way too fucking deep like he saved his life and he was there at his lowest point. and law knows grief too well, experiencing it twice in his life. they can't be normal about it because law didn't even use what he did two years ago as some kind of leverage to get luffy to agree with the alliance. in fact, he kept on saying "things will get moving whether you like it or not" and even gave a chance to the strawhats to reconsider, change their mind, and backout of it. he wasn't using the strawhats as backup with the way he protects them especially in dressrosa--he would rather break the alliance so that they can get away rather than get them involved after he was defeated by doflamingo (because it was a personal fight to begin with but luffy doesn't wanna break the alliance because lmao you're selfish torao I will make that decision and I will save you). and doflamingo, the manipulative little shit, knew what's up with lawlu to the point that he's asking the necessary questions: what do you see in luffy to the point that you'd trust him enough to directly take me down knowing how low your chances are to make that happen? your plan on making kaido mad and fighting me offered better success rates than whatever shit the strawhats decided to pull off so why are you hopeful about them? and law literally says that the strawhats can pull off fucking miracles only for luffy's devil fruit awakening to be a sun god. he trusted his past and basically his life goal at the time to luffy to the point that he needed to see through it and if luffy fails, he should die along with him. what's interesting about post-dressrosa law is his new goal: wanting to know about the will of d because luffy doesn't care but law does for both of them, because he knows luffy might've not led a tragic, checkered life like him, but he knew on some instinctive level that luffy didn't have an easy life, either. their alliance itself is beyond "working together for a mutual goal" right from the very beginning--it was like a quirk of fate, much less a coincidence that law and luffy met again and for that to take place in an abandoned government island that even the log pose doesn't point to. yeah, I am normal about this.

[schrodinger-swriter]

Hazbin Fluff alphabet

Greetings, in between requests I've decided to give this little... thing.. a go! I want to give credit to my friend @the-s1lly-corner for giving me the idea, and for allowing me to use their list as a reference.

To keep things easy on my end, I only ask that you only use one character per ask with a maximum of 9 letters per ask. Of course, you can send in multiple; this is mostly to limit how long a post is and because I feel this will be easier on me if I kept it to one character.

Other than that you may request to your hearts desire!

Only character off the table is Valentino. Not all characters are tagged, but it's not exactly a limit of who I will and won't write for. If there is any additional character I do not feel confident or comfortable writing for I will let it be known.

A- ATTRACTION (What they look for in a partner/find desirable, their type)

B- BONDING (What activities do they do with their partner?)

C- CUDDLING (How do they feel about it? Who's big/little spoon?)

D- DATES (What does a romantic night look like for them? Do you stay in or go out?)

E- EMOTION (How emotional are they in the relationship? Do they wear their heart on their sleeve or pick up a cool and collected mask?)

F- FAMILY (Do they want children? If so how many?)

G- GIFT GIVING (What gifts do they bring to their partner? What gifts do they like receiving?)

H- HARSH (How often do you two get into arguments or misunderstandings? Who tries to patch things up first?)

I- INJURY (How do they cope when their partner gets hurt? Are they able to care for their partner? Or if the roles were reversed, would they want their partner to take care of them?)

J- JEALOUSY (How jealous do they get? How do they handle it?)

K- KISSES (Their favorite place and way to kiss you, and their favorite place to be kissed)

L- LOVE LANGUAGE (How they show their love)

M- MARRIAGE (Do they wanna get married or are they content with a long term relationship? Marriage isn't the end all be all, after all)

N- NO (What are their deal breakers? What can and will break the relationship apart?)

O- ODDITY (What are their quirks or habits?)

P- PET NAMES (What do they call you? What do they like to be called?)

Q- QUESTION (Curiosity! What common questions do they ask you?)

R- RISK (How far are they willing to go for you?)

S- SHH (What/How many secrets do they hold?)

T- TUNES (Your song! What song do you guys associate with the relationship?)

U- UPSET (What is it like when one of you are upset? How do you cheer the other up?)

V- VALENTINE (How is the holiday spent?)

W- WARRIOR (How they feel about you working alongside them in their work/fighting)

X- X-RAY (How well can they read you?)

Y- YEARN (How do they cope with separation, if they struggle at all?)

Z- ZZZZ (What's it like to share a bed with them?)

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[keigosstarlight]

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW/18+, kidnapping, captive darling, noncon & dubcon, BJ, head pushing/guiding, mind break(?) (reader is sympathetic after a bit), praise & degradation, calling reader "pet," reader calls Dabi "Touya," burning, punishments.

Wordcount: <1000 (700+)

Summary: A.U. where Dabi kidnaps you after he's killed Endeavor.

A/N: This is the first fanfic that I've ever shared. 🫣 I also don't write a lot anymore, so I'm hoping it's decent enough. This was originally a fem reader, but I wanted to be more inclusive, so apologies if I missed anything! I read this like eight times, but shit happens. My brain is fried and I wrote this in like an hour.

You resisted when Dabi kidnapped you, but after that first night when he punished you, you decided it wasn’t worth it. He had fucked you senseless, face buried the mattress as your tears stained the sheets. The fading burn on your hip is a constant reminder how he held you despite your pleas, the stinging sensation of the flesh now numb in your memories since your brain forcibly detached. The events are fuzzy at best and completely hidden at worst.

Besides, he treats you well enough, rewarding your obedience with some new clothes that you were sure were more for his eyes than your own happiness, your own toiletries, and a cute little collar with a “T” on it. Of course, if he takes you anywhere, they have to know you belong to someone. He even gave you your own bedroom to retreat to. Sure, he barged in sometimes and invited himself to your bed, but his heat was a comfort now. When you woke up to his palm pressed to your stomach as he held you close, it was almost enough to make you forget.

Every day, you watched the news with him while they replayed his video, time and time again. You heard the details of how his father abandoned him, that his father only married his mother for what her quirk could provide - every single day. After so long of hearing about that abuse, of seeing the anger in his face every time the number one hero showed up, one day you felt you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. Despite Endeavor being dead now, it wasn’t enough to soothe that fire in his heart. You felt sympathy for his broken childhood.

You hated it, and yet, for some reason, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip today.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Touya?"

Dabi gives a teasing smirk, his gaze still glued to your body as he replies, "Because I can, sweetheart. Is there an issue?"

"No." 

You’re so confused, but you can’t deny how badly you want him. You fight the urge to move closer, but as hard as you wrestle with it, you give in, scooting inch by inch closer to him on the sofa until your hand comes to rest on his cheek. Your thighs brush together, the warmth is all so familiar.

"I've missed your touch, Touya."

Surprise flashes in his eyes at the affection, but this is what he’s wanted since he claimed you, so he's not questioning a damn thing.

"Good pet, I knew you'd like it." he praises with a smile.

He caresses your cheek as he looks at you with a lustful grin, his touch becoming more daring as he slides his other hand to your inner thigh.

"Now, I want you to make me feel good, and I think you know how."

Your breath hitches as you bite your lip anxiously, but your response is immediate.

"Yes, Touya."

The verbal obedience is enough to make his dick twitch, but when your hands come to help him undo his belt and pants, that's when he knows he’s got you right where he wants you; completely and utterly his - body, mind, and soul. There was no need for restraints, no need for force, to manipulate your body how he wanted. As much as he loved having that power over you, hearing you choke on his cock while you rested your pretty hand on his thigh instead of pushing away screaming was so much better. 

Muffled noises of your pleasure vibrate around his dick as he toys with your nipples, earning a hum of approval from your captor. Your sweet tongue swirling around the head of his cock makes his eyes roll back. He places a hand to the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down as he lets out sighs of bliss. His attention is locked on you while you take every inch of him, pubes tickling your face, his scent filling your nose as you gag for a moment before he lets you back up.

"Good fuckin' pet." He grunts, head rolled back on the couch’s back.

He fucks your mouth at a steady pace, hips thrusting upwards as your mouth slides over him. Once, twice, three times, he spurts down your throat and you swallow every drop of the salty cum with a slight cringe. Though you’re much more willing now, it doesn't make the taste any better. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, shifting on your knees as you look up at him panting softly as you catch your breath. His eyes flutter, his palm reaching to caress your cheek, a smirk coming over his face.

“So obedient, so submissive. You finally know your place.”

[ultralightpoe]

Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

-

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.  

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world. 

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it? 

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing. 

Even ghosts had more than you at this point. 

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” 

You say nothing. 

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together. 

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too. 

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?” 

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.” 

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?” 

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?” 

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer. 

“Nope.” 

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.” 

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point. 

“Can you recall what he looked like?” 

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?” 

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge. 

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to. 

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.  

-

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine. 

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared. 

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits. 

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.” 

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission. 

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you. 

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point. 

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors. 

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges. 

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go. 

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there. 

This mission is going to go well. 

-

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.” 

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?” 

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo. 

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?” 

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.” 

“Inside or outside?” 

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet. 

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier….. 

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.” 

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.” 

“Someone from your time as the soldier?” 

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up. 

“For revenge?” 

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits. 

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?” 

“She didn’t like that name.” 

“How did she get it?” 

“Me.” 

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?” 

“Flower.”

- 

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be. 

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus. 

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger. 

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place. 

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof. 

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you. 

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look. 

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them. 

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.  

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.” 

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform. 

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof. 

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain. 

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up. 

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?” 

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other. 

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it. 

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view. 

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs. 

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“ 

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back. 

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof. 

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you. 

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?” 

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“ 

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things. 

“LET GO!” 

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.” 

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that. 

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“ 

“Let me go!” 

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.” 

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier. 

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.” 

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have? 

- 

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane. 

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long. 

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did. 

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you. 

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you. 

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons. 

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?” 

“Soldat.” 

“What’s your real name?” 

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?” 

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more. 

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow. 

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features. 

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.” 

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father. 

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?” 

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go. 

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed. 

-

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth. 

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care. 

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it. 

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved. 

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger….. 

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself. 

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“ 

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.” 

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.” 

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.” 

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?” 

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.” 

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found. 

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.” 

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught. 

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck. 

He was going to puke, how many kids had….. 

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“ 

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.” 

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you. 

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes. 

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you. 

- 

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

-

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name. 

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first. 

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list. 

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.” 

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.” 

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him. 

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing. 

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become. 

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw. 

“Always. You?” 

“With you my little flower? Always.” 

-

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace. 

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other. 

“Do we have-“ 

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.” 

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?” 

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.” 

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives. 

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours. 

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs. 

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up. 

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it. 

-

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other . 

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet. 

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.” 

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly. 

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter. 

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.” 

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions. 

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice. 

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him. 

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog. 

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing. 

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them. 

“It seems like it went wrong…” 

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap. 

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.” 

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later. 

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

- 

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

- 

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house. 

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love. 

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep. 

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm. 

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them. 

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes. 

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off. 

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely. 

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future. 

And for once you felt like…. You were home. 

- 

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact. 

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him. 

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. 

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place. 

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch. 

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together. 

“Yes. We can. Your list?” 

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on. 

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story. 

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again. 

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods. 

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.  

- 

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars. 

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding. 

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly. 

“It’s empty though.” 

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door. 

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.” 

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?” 

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits. 

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles. 

“But I will. Let’s go.”

- 

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

- 

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life. 

“That sounds… amazing, flower.” 

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back. 

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you. 

- 

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs. 

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides.  John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally. 

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back. 

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?) 

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together. 

- 

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same. 

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you. 

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him. 

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.” 

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in. 

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming. 

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm. 

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer. 

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off. 

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart. 

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart. 

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side. 

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces. 

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both. 

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit. 

- 

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water. 

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud. 

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment. 

- 

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going. 

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air. 

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze. 

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding. 

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t. 

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind. 

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on. 

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car. 

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening. 

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car. 

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well. 

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam. 

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.   

- 

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

- 

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train. 

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability. 

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need. 

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing. 

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good. 

“I mean…. After this mission.” 

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel. 

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.” 

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven. 

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop. 

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up. 

“I don’t deserve it.” 

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles. 

- 

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental. 

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year. 

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly. 

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons. 

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw. 

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away. 

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room. 

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky. 

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

[s0ft-d3cay]

Boxed Reveal

Shigaraki x Male Reader | This is one I've been wanting to write for a hot minuet, you guys have no idea. The next Shigaraki one shot I have will be a big and emotional one, so just a heads up.

Warnings: playfully teasing, he calls you a brat, no use of Y/N, reader is very playful, establish relationship because that man needs some loving, gift giving, reader has a quirk that neutralizes Shigaraki's quirk and he uses that to make the item, lots of kissing, slight mention of being pulled into a lap...and very fluff ridden

WC:749

It was a lazy day, one you’d been planning on having ever since Shigaraki and the League became the PLF. Now with the man hugging you from behind in bed, just the normal amount of overly affectionate from the villain. You then remembered your ‘surprise’ you’ve been working on for him. 

"Hey, I've to get something really quick, but I need you to let go of me for-" "No." Shigaraki cuts in resting his head on your shoulder, hands snaking around your waist tightly. Even his legs wrapped around your own, the man was currently trapping you in a hug. "Come on Shiggs, you can hold me once I-" You offer was cut off as his hold around you tighten even more, causing you to giggle out.

"No, you’re staying right here. I don’t care if you have a surprise for me. I’m not letting you go." Your hands rub his forearms and hair lightly, feeling him nuzzle against your neck. Choosing to not leave him in such a vulnerable state, you decide to compromise. "Alright, I’ll just bring the gift to you then." You materialized the box on the window sill beside him. Red's and purple's circle the area before dissipating around a box.

You soon feel him sigh deeply, his warm breath wafting over your shoulder. He leave kisses behind your ear softly, before pulling his head away from your shoulder. "Fine, I’ll bite. What’s in the box, brat?" Smiling wide with an excited laugh, you turn to quickly kiss his lips enthusiastically. Sitting up to your knees to reach out, picking up the medium sized box.

Shigaraki sits up,  keeping his hands on your waist and hips. Frail fingers mindlessly tracing over your skin. Shivering at the small contacted, you turn around to fully face him. Overly excited as you placed it on his lap. He looks at you suspiciously, side eyeing the box. "Are you trying to court me?" The man questions with a smirk, his hands move away from your body, holding the box closer to himself.

"Yes, I am." You answered playfully, leaning in to kiss his lips again. This kiss was soft and lovingly, their mouths melding against one another in-tandem. You pull away slow, whispering in a playfully tone. "It’s a little something I thought you might like..." He glances at you breathlessly for a moment before opening the box. 

A flash of the trench coat, a blood red outer fabric with a deep purple interior. Shigaraki freezes, pulling the trench coat out of the box, feeling the fabric beneath his fingers carefully. "You lost your other one in the fight with Redestro so...I thought I’d make you a new one and um…try to decay it." You say quietly, he turns to you quick at your last words.

"What?" The villain breathes out in disbelief, "Try to decay it, go on." You tell him with a confident grin, he looks back at the trench coat. Unsure, he holds his breath as his fifth finger moves closer to the fabric. "I’m gonna to be so fucking mad if it turns to dust…" He says before setting down his final finger. The coat remains, you watch as his grip on it tightens. Still nothing, you hear a sigh of relief. He pulls the coat to his chest, hugging it like a child would with their favorite toy. You watch as a warm smile graces his face.

"Oh, I’m trying this on right now." He giddily moves off the bed, putting it on quick; fitting perfectly over his frame. You watch as he feels the fabric again, both hands in the pockets. He spins giggling happily, he glances towards you, eyes gleaming in joy as he asks. "Well, how do I look?" His grin widens as he laughs, posing dramatically.

Breathless and flustered, you try to form a sentence in your mind. He walks up to you slow, with a mischievous look in his eyes. "You look good, it...really suits you.…" Shigaraki stands right over you, both arms trapping you on the bed. He hums out a breathy chuckle, leaning down to kiss you. With a soft gasp, your hands slide up to grasp the trench coat, pulling him down on top of you. Lips morphing to hungry kisses and touches, pulling you down to his lap.

"You’re cute when you’re flustered~" He whispers with a teasing giggle before capturing your lips once more, reveling in your warmth and presence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[jamiethebeeart]

Danny Phantom AU for the League (explanation under the cut)

There's a common (?) idea in the phandom that Sam dyes her hair black (or that her mom bleach her hair from black) and asdfghj that fits so well for Dabi. I can also see him being edgy and wearing eyeliner (he would tightline and you can't convince me otherwise) and eyeshadow to piss off Endeavor. (You can hardly see it, but I promise he has purple eyeshadow under his eyes.) I've been thinking about it and I'm not sure how Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto would fit into this AU. Cousins? Maybe just siblings, and ignore Sam's only child-ness.

LINK (X) ok so I have drawn this before and I stand by Hana as Jazz and Tenko/Tomura as Fenton/Phantom. :)))) Danny's hair in the og art style makes no damn sense. Many an artist has bemoaned it (me included), so I decided to make Shigaraki's also confounding. (it's like??? a mullet???? but the mullet has layers????) Danny having Lichtenberg figure scars has recently had a resurgence in phandom and it's the perfect excuse to keep the scars around Shigaraki's mouth/eyes. (To symbolize the "scary eyes" and ghost sense.) Shigaraki gets to keep Danny's whole "getting new powers every time he needs to" shtick: one - because it's funny and two - it ties into the whole AFO quirk plotline. SPEAKING OF. AFO gets to take Vlad's place :)))) except!!! I think it'd work better if AFO was a "friend" of Tenko's grandmother and that's how he's weaseled his way into the family. No Vlad wanting Maddie and killing Jack subplot. Just AFO up to his usual shenanigans. I'm on the fence about whether or not Dabi would secretly be a kickass gamer (Sam was, but only kept it a secret because of 2000s misogyny about girls playing games.... idk how that'd transfer to Dabi other than Dabi trying to maintain a "too cool for that" image....)

(Hana as Jazz. Jazz loves her brother and tries to support him but is also overbearing and ignores what he says in favor of what she wants. I feel like an older Hana would fit into that well.... not that we know much about Hana, but from what can be gathered I think it'd fit. And Danny wanted a dog! Eventually has Cujo tagging along! Also a very good mirror for Mon and Tenko.)

Tucker! Spinner! my loves!!!! I wasn't sure originally if I wanted Spinner to be a ghost or a human, but as we can see I plopped him in Tucker's role. Because it fits so well. (I still vividly remember the post about "who loves Danny more? Valerie or Sam. the answer: neither, it's Tucker. Savant Par and Spinaraki mimicing the much larger fanbase for Amethyst Ocean and Shigadabi) Also, Spinner getting to connect with Tenko over games (DOOMED) and technology. I imagine that Spinner wears a bandana to cover up his roots showing. I see Tucker as taking special care of his appearance, but I don't see where Spinner's like that, so he gets a lazier option :) Oooooh should I give Spinner glasses? ooooh I bet he'd have glasses, but never want to wear them because they'd make him look nerdy. Anyway, just like Tucker and Danny, Spinner would face his fears to help and support Shigaraki :))))) (crying over his devotion)

Other Characters:

Dash, Paulina, Kwan, and Star? Maybe Uraraka and Toga as Johnny 13 and Kitty? hehehee could be cute. the fights and getting back together and Toga having to blow off steam in the human world? Kwan befriends Sam and Tucker, so maybe Twice would fit into Kwan's role? OH!!! And then have Hawks be Dash. (I don't think anyone has ever shipped Sam and Dash but that's why this is an AU.)

Deku can be Poindexter.... cause bullying (asdfghj yea it sidelines Deku a bit and sticks him in a very minor role and is an easy choice, but!! some fics make Poindexter and Danny kind of friends!! I think that'd be a nice mirror to what Shigaraki and Deku could've been - along with the initial misunderstandings that Poindexter has about Danny mirroring the way that Deku had to learn more about Shigaraki.

Ember? Maybe as Compress.... he has the theatrics DOWN lmao. And Magne as part of the band perhaps? That'd be cute.

(I don't feel like I know enough about Mustard to put him in any specific role.....)

OOOH Bakugou as Dora! The Dragon Amulet transformation mirroring Bakugou's angry outbursts!