#and maybe it was just a quirk of this week. maybe next push attending will be easier

[helicoprinus]

i wish vacationing to another flight didn't come with a 1500g price tag. i'm partially considering switching flights but i don't want to go through the whole deal only to find out i don't like the new one and want to go back but have to wait 6 months And scrounge up *1500* gems on top

(tags of this post veer into a personal vent about my first time being a sheet attendant, just a head's up)

[bkgpackets]

CHP. FOUR | WHAT RECONCILIATION REALLY MEANS (NSFW)

SUMMARY: Katsuki has settled into a routine-like dance with you ever since your debut as a hero. He takes care of you like harmonious clockwork, but as he peels layer after layer, he’s caught up with his own tantalising feelings when he finds your blood staining his hands. You teach him, slowly, of what it means to fall in love.

TAGS: pro hero au, fem reader, banter, hurt/comfort, smut (piv, unprotected, breeding, aftercare)

CHAPTER LENGTH: 3,990 | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHP.

The first few weeks of January don’t really seem real. You’ve claimed your spot as number three, pushing Shouto down a rank for the time being. You chuckle a bit, was it worth it? 

Your schedule is far from normal, your manager has forced you to be on rehabilitation leave, all of your patrols are being taken up by the sidekicks in your agency, and the only work you’re allowed to do is paperwork, records and organising. 

The first day that you came back was hectic. It was the sixth of January, villains caused more ruckus than usual, probably running high on those New Year’s Eve emotions. 

(But does that mean you can rob a bank too?)

On doctor’s orders, you are not to do any extreme sports and get any more major injuries in at least 2 months. It’s nice, sometimes, you're given a long-awaited breather, heroes who occupy the top 10 ranks know that they never really get a day off. Even when you’re on vacation, if that place needs a hero, you’re still a hero. 

Every day becomes softer, your morning jog is cut to a mile only, and you get to drop by the cafe near your agency for some breakfast before you head to the office. Your hand still instinctively reaches for the locker door that houses your hero suit after your morning showers, and you wince everytime.

Bakugou has been texting you less, maybe that's what the emptiness is. You check your phone more, you see dozens of texts and emails from companies, sponsors and coworkers, but the cavity eating away at your heart doesn’t stop. You’re waiting for something, maybe it’s Dynamight’s picture of the neighbourhood cat, maybe it’s the picture slyly taken of Red Riot helping an old lady cross the street– no more everyday tragedies. 

The Herald: Metal Gear’s Rise and Fall — Why Was the Quirk Ring Bust-In Such a Controversy?

By the second week of January, time starts passing by a little too fast. You still attend the physiotherapy lessons you’re assigned, you still complete the paperwork in your office, you’ve grown accustomed to eating out alone and not Katsuki’s meals too– it’s light work but everything feels so heavy. 

You don’t get a chance to slow down, you blink and sunrise becomes sunset, you rest your eyes and when you open them once more, you’re greeted with your bedroom ceiling and you're awake again. Every day you have something to do, and now it’s your opportunity to take a break for the night– January's group hangout is hosted at Eijirou’s.

You don’t think about anything on your way to his apartment, you don't remember whether you were standing or sitting during the subway ride, you don't remember the colour of the sky, it’s odd because you usually have such a good memory, you can remember Bakugou’s birthday, you can remember all the names of Mina’s cats, what happened?

You don’t notice until you’re about to knock on Kirishima’s door, you let the cold air bite down your throat, it stings, your sinuses hurt, but you don’t think you’d be able to hold yourself together otherwise. 

You don’t smile when Mina opens the door, she has this look in her eyes, like she knows something you don’t, maybe she’s doing you a favour by not saying it aloud, yet it somehow still feels a mockery. 

You don’t greet everyone in the room, they still return friendly and worried smiles, all except one. When you were just about to say ‘Hey Bakugou’ he walks out the door, mumbling something about picking up the food, and when his shoulder brushes yours, he flinches like it hurts, and you try not to wince at the stab in your heart. 

You don’t participate in conversation much either, you don’t laugh as hard at the punchlines, everyone notices, even Katsuki, but no one says anything, too nice to point it out, and too tired to meddle with it. 

The movie continues playing, flashes of black and white occasionally breaking through the haze of your mind, dialogues are but a background noise that fails to distract you from your thoughts. You had looked forward to this, being around friends has always been soothing when you spiral too deep into your own head, but now that you and him aren’t talking, you think that maybe it wasn't your friends that had ever calmed you down to begin with, just him.

They all take turns trying to start a conversation, but the silent tension between you and Katsuki has also dwindled everyone’s mood, you feel sorry, you don't know how they put up with you two sometimes. 

Time starts passing by in a blur again, you’re watching a movie on the couch, you’re eating takeout, you're drinking beer, you're putting on your shoes, Mina is talking about something, Bakugou doesn't ask you to stay with him, Bakugou doesn't look at you when you're turning around, Bakugou doesn't shout some reminder regarding safety when you begin to walk away, Bakugou– forget it. You're already on your way to the subway station, and the air is cold when his arms aren’t wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Can’t you just let it go?” Kirishima leans onto the balcony beside him, a beer in hand. He doesn’t look at him, after all, having been friends with him since they were mere teenagers has given him instincts, he knows that by looking at him Bakugou will only be more shameful, so he does him a favour and looks at the sea instead. 

“This is for her own good.”

@alpha-deku: MG is.. falling off, i think if the quirk ring thing happened a year ago she would have done it smoothly without any hiccups at all, not being able to foresee the extension of quirks and to put yourself into danger so that other people around you have to pick up after you is.. kinda dumb for a top 4 hero lol you would assume that she would’ve had a plan B and not just fall out of the sky to take a bullet for somebody who was clearly more powerful in terms of skill compared to her 

“That fucking cunt..! Wha- who does he think he is? You can’t just drop in and out of my life just because I’m convenient, asshole…” You mumble, drunk, steps crossing haphazardly as you stomp the curb with anger. Your friends struggle to hold you up as you fling your arms around in vexation; some weeks of bottled emotions finally clawing at the edges of the jar, overdue. The blaring music from the clubs all around you and the filth that comes out of the mouths of low-lifes can’t be drowned out, why don't they have airpods for his voice? 

You look at the flesh of your thumb, fingers dancing over the bumpy patch of scar, it’s weird what grief does to people.

(What grief? For what?) 

Every scar has its own beginnings and endings; you got that scar after tripping over a rock while playing hide and seek with Katsuki as a child. When you landed on the rough asphalt with your palms open to break the fall, you had actually slid a few inches. 

Tears were left unspilled behind your glossy eyes, gaze landing on your bleeding thumb, lips plumping into a pout as you held in the sobs that were bouncing inside your skeleton. 

When Katsuki kneels in front of you, he’s as much of a gentleman as he is now, holding your arm tightly, inspecting your wound carefully, wiping your tears away, he brought you to his mother, where she immediately assumed the worst: ‘Katsuki! Did you do this? I raised you not to hurt girls! What’s wrong with you–’ your hiccups interrupted her, ‘I’m sorry Mrs. Bakugou, but it wasn’t him, I tripped myself, Katsuki helped me up.’ It was a miracle that she had understood you through your sniffles, but her expression immediately changes and she starts bandaging you up right away. 

You two stopped playing hide and seek after that, none of you realised that that accident would be your last time playing hide and seek until years later, when you’re reminiscing in your rooms late at night. 

The scar is ugly— the skin there is patchy, uneven, discoloured, the shape is rugged and asymmetric, its origin is as childish as it can be, but you love that scar. It’s weird when you find love in violence. 

(You love it because Katsuki showed you his treehouse afterwards to cheer you up, not even Izuku knows about that.)

That night, when you lay in bed with your run-down makeup washed off, when you have changed out of the revealing and uncomfortable fabrics and into an oversized hoodie that doesn’t belong to you, you wish someone was there to listen through your sniffles and wipe your tears away. 

Your lives have been so deeply intertwined that everything and anything he sees, he’s reminded of you. The neighbourhood stray cat you named Hummus, the hot potatoes sold on the side of the street by that old lady you love talking to, the bus stop advertisement campaign you did with the local animal shelter, he can never truly escape you, even when he’s making the active effort to. Maybe he never grew out of his own cowardice. 

You don’t make it to the February hangout. 

@shotoswife: #mg_overparty it’s so unfair that shes up a rank while shoto is pushed down to fourth??? What did she even do in the mission that the HPSC is selling as a GLORIOUS triumph, shoto literally saved 14 kids from that avalanche in hokkaido, why is that any less impressive compared to that absolute fiasco

The Spring Hero Gala is rolling around the corner, with one month remaining, your stylist has taken advantage of your still freed up schedule and sent you to nine different fittings over the span of a week. It gets tiresome, from taxis to studios to taxis to studios, from itchy and restricting fabrics back to your breathable and flowy hoodies, but it distracts you from the overt absence of Katuski in your life, so you welcome it with open arms. 

After some discussions, your stylist settles the deal with Balenciaga, and your dress for the Hero Gala in March is decided, a maroon silk dress that shapes your waist and chest, it’s flattering on you, the staff had said, you thank them with a humble smile.

(Unconvinced, much like how the internet would feel, you think.)

You return to hero work at a slow and steady pace, increasing the hours of patrols day by day, the abilities of the sidekick accompanying you slowly decrease week by week, and by the time March chases itself into your back, you’re once again a regular occupant on the ranks of the latest villain captures on the official HPSC website. 

Life is moving on, with or without Bakugou, with or without his lunches, with or without his good-mornings, you don’t want him to be your biggest what-if. 

Top 10 Most Scandalous Paparazzi Photos This Month: No.1 Metal Gear Seen Leaving a Gay Bar With a Man Draped Around Her Shoulders! view entire article 

Bakugou has been twisting and turning in his bed for the past hour. He’s always had a good sleep schedule, when his head hits the pillow, it’s lights out within five minutes. He’s not used to this, this unending cycle of thoughts spiralling in his head, he can’t seem to shut off his brain, is he really avoiding you for your own safety? Or his own cowardice– no. Not his own cowardice. Never his own cowardice. 

It’s been exactly three months since you got out of the hospital. Bakugou, like many, has thrown himself headfirst into heroics as a means to not think about you, not that it’s been of much success. Every day and every waking hour, he spends it thinking of you, your hair, your gentle but firm touch, your ringtone, your ‘did u eat yet’s. 

His manager has already chosen a suit for the upcoming Hero Gala, he didn’t have a say in it, he hasn't even glimpsed at what he’d be wearing that evening. These days he just spends them scrolling tabloids on his phone, the latest scandal regarding Metal Gear, recent paparazzi pictures of you. He spends them far away from you, yet still paying close attention to your life. And so unlike himself, he drowns in his own self-pity before his alarm blares him awake, signalling another exhausting day of hero work, filled with villainy and bloodshed. 

Bakugou recalls his teenage years, and even the years he spent in the Genius Office, he has never thought that he’d ever stop being friends with you, he remembers making a vow at the ripe age of 22, promising himself and his friends that he’d never tell you just how much he wanted to have you in his embrace if it could preserve the state of his friend group back then, harmonised and synchronised like it’s their job, but seemingly Bakugou has a knack for fucking things up, he never meant for this to happen, but maybe forever was a word meant for memories, not people.

2X51 Spring Hero Gala Name List: Missing Plus-Ones from Dynamight and Metal Gear? Catch Up On the Latest Hero Drama from THE EVENING STANDARD

When Dynamight first sets foot on the red carpet, he is greeted with a myriad of flashes and shouts. Paparazzi, fans and the like all vie for his attention, the stuffy March air makes his skin sticky, his scowl is in place when he fights his way across the room. He’s tipsy, he has made sure of it, he knows he won’t be able to deal with you in public, let alone sober. 

He used to be a lot of things, sometimes he was your questions and other times he was your answers, but right now he wants to be a comfort that doesn’t quite require either, but he thinks he might end up as your greatest I’ll-never-know. 

When he sees you arrive, his heart skips a beat. Did your stylist do this on purpose? It makes his palms sweatier than usual when he sees your dress, the same hue of red as his eyes, he thinks you look dashing, as you always do, he’s meticulous in the study of you, he’s skilled in reading your expressions, the slightest twitch of a brow and the smallest tick of your lips, maybe the cameras won’t be able to pick out the tired dread that sits on your face, but he knows your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, yet he still can’t look away.

“You look stunning.” He finally admits.

“Oh you're talking to me again?” He winces, he’s been ignoring you, he knows that, you know that, the entire friend group knows it, even the public is aware. He feels like a schoolboy with the way he pretends your existence doesn't matter, some hypocrite he is, he thinks, who was he to criticise your coping mechanisms when he avoided you to protect himself? 

He’s spent three whole months convincing himself that he’s cutting contact with you for your own good, that maybe without him in your life, maybe you’d lead a peaceful one, one without peril, but he knows now, he’s been avoiding you out of his own fear, he never grew out of own cowardice.

“I’m sorry I’m in love with you.” The way he looks at you conveys everything that you need to know, his eyes are filled with something you don’t see in Bakugou very often.

(Fear, fear of losing you, again.)

Your silence is uncanny. It makes him wonder what he’d do if you were to answer with a ‘I’m never talking to you again’, your lack of a response is perhaps more infuriating than that, but he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. If you were to block him and refuse to ever see him again, he’d feel sorry. If you were to move from the city and to somewhere else to avoid him– no, you won’t do that, he’s sure you won’t give up everything in your life right now for him, for pitiful him, but it does make him think how he’d do just about anything to see you again. He’s taken that right for granted so far, it never struck him as a privilege to be able to lay his eyes on you, but right now it’s all he’ll ask for, because your absence doesn’t get any quieter even when he conditions himself to it. 

You look beautiful, you look like the one thing he'd love to look at for the rest of his life. 

Somehow your smile is still blazing, like the sun. “Did you miss my rage?” 

(You always knew you’d put down your ego and everything else to talk to him again if he asked for you once more.)

@bkgpackets: i think metal gear has done a lot, i think she’s done enough, for musutafu and for our boi katsuki too, it’s time for them to reconcile, they've been through so much tgt, i'm sure they’ll be able to make amends within a few words spoken

“Let’s welcome our top five heroes this year, they have done plenty in guaranteeing the safety of our neighbourhoods, some have risked their lives, some shared their blood, sweat and tears with us, for the sake of our livelihood. So let’s give them a round of applause, a standing ovation, for their courage and dedication towards protecting our reformed society. Welcome to the bright stage, Tsukuyomi, Shouto, Metal Gear, Dynamight, and Deku!”

Your ears are filled with a sore ringing, eyes blinded by overwhelming blinks of flashlights as you’re greeted with a warm welcome back by the hero society, the most powerful and influential part of civilization standing up to clap for you while you accept your award. You don’t glance down, afraid to fall, you look up and into the cameras, head-on with determination in your gaze and kindness in your grin, you’re Metal Gear. 

+++

When you call your manager to tell her that you won’t be attending any after-parties, she merely agrees with a knowing chuckle, and tells you ‘good luck’. 

After the five-course meal, you’re stuffed when you see Katsuki’s text on your lock screen, meet me behind the hotel garden, it said. Your purse is fluffed with congratulation cards from your coworkers and acquaintances, you clutch onto it as the wind sweeps beneath your dress, heels clicking across the marble floor as you look around and ask star-struck workers where the garden is. It took some extra effort making sure that you stayed away from front doors and cameras, not wanting your meeting with Bakugou to be interrupted by the paparazzi or obsessive fans. 

His back is turned towards you when you push the door open. You know he knows you’re here. He looks up, like troubles are weighing heavy on his shoulders, you can’t help but want to walk up to him to massage them, to strip his layers and take away his worries. 

You take your time walking up to him, you look at the flowers that surround you two, the moon that gives light to his shadow, you let the wind mess up your hair before you are finally shoulder to shoulder with him. He sighs, and you smile.

“I never got you out of my head. I don’t want to either, but I already think about you every hour of every day. I think about how if I were smarter with my emotions, I’d be able to kiss you and love you right every second of the year, of my life. Give me one more chance and I won’t fuck it up. Please.”

You continue glancing down the city while he twists his head to look at you, but when you look back at him, he stutters on his breath, the way you look at him has never changed, through the thick and thin, it is all so gentle.

“I’ll– can I make it up to you? I’ll make this our first date, I’ll make up for the time I lost, so– eyebrows, will you go on a date with me?” He’s blushing, you realise, to your absolute delight. And when you say yes, Bakugou thanks the Gods for the first time in his life. 

He takes your hand as he leads you to his car in the parking lot, it’ll take some time to get used to these gestures of affection. 

(He’s learned his lessons, every second spent by your side is precious, and he’ll learn to appreciate and accept that fact.) 

He opens the car door for you before getting on himself. When he drives you back to his home, he gives you the aux; the windows are rolled down, the air isn’t as humid anymore, it’s cool and it slightly nips at the exposed skin under the jacket he offered you earlier in the night. The journey is smooth, with just a few cars on the road as the clock ticks past 3, he pulls into his driveway, a view you haven’t seen since the last hangout hosted here. 

He doesn’t let you undo your seatbelt, he insists on doing it for you before he gets out of the door and walks over to your side. His touch is soft when he laces his fingers between yours, he guides you to his door as if he’s bringing a valued gift home, like you don’t already know the ins and outs of this apartment with the hours you’ve spent here, you’re sure you can navigate it blindfolded. 

The click of the lock is loud in the quiet of his apartment. You still see your mug sitting lonely behind his cupboards. He takes your purse from you and sets it gently on the cabinet before bending down, with his calloused fingers, he takes off your heels carefully, as if they’re made out of glass and would shatter on impact. When he stands to his full height again, he’s one breath closer, you can count the scars that dust across his countenance this way, you’re shameless in the way you let your eyes meander over his face, the delicate skin that have seen so much tragedy, right at your fingertips, smooth but rugged at the edges of his blemishes, his stories. 

His hands snake around your waist and land on the small of your back, pulling you near, until not even a sheet of paper can separate the two of you, the way he looks at you– it makes you feel nervous, shy, and just like every other aspect in his life, he meets your eye with courage, dedication, to prove himself to you once again. 

It’s you who kisses him first. You go on your tippy toes, just reaching his lips in time that he scoops you tight and close, your hands begin to make their way up his nape and into his messy locks, ashy and for you, its scent familiar. His big and rough hands cloak their way under your thighs, picking you up effortlessly before setting you down on that corner of the kitchen island. 

His breaths taste like liquor and you’re addicted. His lips are soft, even, in a way that you know he takes good care of himself, but his kisses begin to get a bit more desperate. Teeth begin to clatter, he begins to nip, like the wind and like you’d get away otherwise, and maybe you will. The grip you have on his hair grows needier, like you’re begging. 

He picks you up, and a small noise escapes from your lips that he swallows greedily. He’s waited so long, been so patient for so long.

Katsuki decides that he’s been a gentleman long enough. He slowly walks towards his bedroom, pushing the door open with his hip before he puts you on the bed with as much tenderness a starving man could have. 

He doesn't hesitate in stripping you when he sees the same desire glinting in your eyes, the silk dress slips off like butter. Despite it being you two’s first time, you all but work together like a well-oiled machine, harmonised and synchronised. Somehow, he knows that your whine means you must want his shirt off as well. He’s generous in taking off his suit and dress pants, his belt leaves his waist with a clip before your hands take its place. You swear your mouth waters at his slim waistline, his eyes glimmer when he lays them on your breasts, spilling from behind your lingerie. 

“I’ve waited so long for you, my love,” He whispers with his nose tucked beneath your jaw, you shudder when he licks a long and teasing stripe up to your ear, your nails scratch his shoulders in tandem, a silent plea for him to do something. He hears your prayers and begins to make his way towards your clothed heat, you’re embarrassed as he looks at you directly when he kisses your clit. His fingers go up to your hips before sliding your panties off at a terrifically slow pace.

Bakugou thinks he’s in nirvana when he sees your wetness clinging to the fabric, his eyes are far rolled back into his skull, he suddenly thinks he’s a man dying of thirst. The way your core glistens under the soft moonlight shining through from his windows makes him weak in the knees, “Please, Kats, I don’t need prep, I just need you,” 

He smiles when he hears you before complying. Even in your haze, you can still clearly recognise the wet spot on his underwear, his boxers seem uncomfortably tight, but you’re not in a much better state, when his cologne drowns you in his bed, you think you’re in limbo. 

Katsuki’s body must be shaped by the Greek sculptors, you think. His abdominal muscles are nothing short of a breathtaking sight, he chuckles when he hears your sharp intake of breath. The way his fingers slip into your wet cunt earns you a place in hell, but you feel like you’re in heaven when you see him wrap his digits, coated with you, around his cock, pumping up and down until his pink tip is leaking and waiting. He’s out of breath before you even begin. 

“Fuck, baby, you ready? ‘Cause I can’t wait anymore,” Your nods are overzealous, but his chuckles are cut short when his tip slowly pushes past your hole and into your pussy, he’ll die happy now, he thinks, you’re nothing short of perfection. 

Your moans are sacrilegious when he sinks his entire length in, his arms are caging you in, and you’re forced to look at him, dazed and eyes lidded. It’s not long before he starts moving, and then your hands are gripping the sheets, he gets up close and personal, so he can listen to your moans right at his ear while he sucks a bruising hickey onto your neck, so that no doubt you’ll be his by the end of tonight. His pace is set fast, but it becomes erratic soon enough, “Kats–! Hnng, fuck! Baby I need you so bad, give it to me, oh god!” He grimaces once, his fingers intertwined with yours before bringing them above your head, “Don’t beg god for mercy, he won’t save you now, beg for me, scream my name instead baby,” he grins, swallowing all of your sobs of his name possessively. 

His hips snap towards yours faster and faster and you swear he's reached an undiscovered spot when he brings your legs atop his shoulders, his grunts grow in volume, he begs for you now, and you’ve never felt more powerful having Dynamight appeal for your love and mercy. “Oh, oh, love, you want me to fill you up? Pump you full with my cum, you want it, don’t you?” The grip he has on your hips is brutal and you’re sure they’ll leave a mark but you can’t be happier, you scream “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and by your third promise he’s already painting your warm walls white, he doesn’t stop for your sake, his fingers go around your clit in small but fast circles, and you’re quickly thrown over the cusp and left twitching as his cum is pushed into the deepest crevices in you before he collapses on top of you, panting, sweaty, and sweet. 

Your eyelids become heavy, threatening to close when he pulls you close to his chest, the familiar aroma of his nitroglycerin sweat mixed with his shower gels flooding your nostrils brings you comfort; you grip onto his pillow case, you’ll pretend to fall asleep, anything to keep your tears in, and dare they ever fall over your cheeks, you’ll face into the soft cushion and inhale what you can now call home. 

A leap of faith, they call it, a dive into the uncertainty of what Katsuki will bring to you.  

“Eyebrows? We need to take a shower,” He whispers while cradling your head in his calloused palms, voice soft and gentle, you don’t want to open your eyes, wishing they’ll remain shut for as long as he allows, “come on, we’ll sleep afterwards,” but with a promise that you two can spend the remainder of what is left until dawn together, when the two of you will have to suffer the violating scrutiny of the public eye once more, you follow him to the bathroom, to the edge of the Earth if he asks, because it won’t be everyday that you get to preserve this kind of unbreached privacy, the kind of seclusion spent with you tangled in his limbs and tucked beneath his sheets, safe and sound, away from the rest of the world. 

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part eight

hello !!! I’m back !!! this parts got a whopper in it, apologies in advance, but it’s got a nice ending and something to look forward to if that’s any consolation :) 

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part eight

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven

word count: 3k

warnings: language, drinking, I think that’s it?

You felt entirely on edge as your knee bounced erratically sitting in the uncomfortable chair across from your chief of surgery, a million thoughts racing through your mind that you couldn’t really make any sense of. Were you really doing this? Was this really something you were going to go through with? 

“I have to say, I was surprised by your interest, Jupiter,” he said as he organized the papers in front of him and you let out a humorless chuckle.

“No more surprised than I am, sir.” you replied and he sensed the hesitation in your voice.

“Do you need more time to think it over?” he asked and you shook your head. This was the right decision, the right move… not just for your career but it was simply the right thing to do. 

“No, I… I’m sure, I just… I haven’t told anyone yet,” you sighed and you immediately felt your stomach twist in guilt as you said it. You hadn’t told anyone. Not your parents, not your friends, not Jake. Deep down you knew he would be supportive, he would understand… your friends too, they’d understand better than anyone, probably… maybe. You wouldn’t know for sure until you told them. You signed all of the paperwork before asking if you could have the rest of the day, which you were easily granted. You’d be on a lighter rotation the next week, less cases and less time in the hospital to get your life in order.

You stood in the attending’s lounge, changing into your normal clothes… Jake always joked and called them your civvies too, different careers but same little quirks. You felt sick, honestly, to have something so big happening in your life that you hadn’t told him about. This never happened, not since you were ten years old. He knew everything, you simply never could keep anything from him, not what you had for breakfast and not that one time you embarrassingly had to get stitches back in your residency because you slipped in a puddle of blood and cracked your head open - something you still hadn’t quite lived down with your old friends. But this? This was bigger than all of that, potentially the biggest thing you’ve ever had to tell him. 

You sat along the beach in front of the Hard Deck as you waited, eyes so fixated on the push and pull of the ocean you almost didn’t notice the figure dropping down beside you, and you turned to face him with a jump. “This is all very cryptic, Jupiter.” Rooster said, eyeing you curiously. “Is there a specific reason you called and said meet me at the beach before hanging up or was that your way of saying you want to hang out more?” he asked, trying to add a joking tone but the look on your face told him there was something more going on.

“I’m going to the middle east,” you said, deciding not to beat around the bush and the look of shock on his face was not missed by you.

“You’re going… to the middle east?” he asked, trying to process it. “For vacation, or…?”

“With the Army,” you replied and his eyes widened further than you thought they could.

“You’re being deployed? You joined the Army?” his face twisted up in disgust at the last one… of all the branches why couldn’t it have been his own? “When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago… we had a visiting surgeon, he was teaching the trauma department updated techniques rooted in efficiency, and we got a crash course in disaster response. He and I got to talking afterwards, he said he saw something in me, something that reminded him of himself, he frequently goes on tours where he’s needed to offer medical support.”

“So you joined the Army because this dude saw something in you and just said hey wanna come to the middle east?” he asked and you softly smiled, this was good. This was the reaction you were anticipating, Rooster was a trial run and he was doing exactly what you needed to give you the confidence to tell everyone else.

You shook your head, “I’ve always felt drawn to this, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this story but to keep it brief during my residency I had to go in the field to respond to a trauma, gnarly train crash… it was exhilarating, if that’s not an entirely fucked up thing to say, there’s something different about being there in the moment when it feels like the sky is falling and there’s no time to get them to a hospital, or even no hospital to get them to.”

“I mean, I get it… I’d be a hypocrite to tell you I didn’t, different context but same calling. I just… this is kind of insane, Jupiter.”

You nodded, “I know. When he told me that he was leaving with a group in a few weeks I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I really tried to push past it and tell myself it wasn’t real, it was just a fun simulation, but then the train crash dawned on me and I realized I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while. And it just makes sense to me, you know? There’s a shortage of medical personnel, even fewer surgeons. It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Have you talked to Jake, does he know?”

“No. You were my practice run,” you joked. “How’d I do?”

“Well, you got to the point… gave clear and precise answers, but J… I’m not in love with you. The fear I feel about you going over there into active warzones doesn’t even compare to what Jake’s going to feel.”

You gasped, “you’re not in love with me?” you asked, placing a hand over your chest in faux shock and he just shoved your shoulder at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“Cut it out,” he chuckled. “I was a shitty practice run, you know I’m never going to tell you not to do something you feel called to do no matter how much I want to throw you in a padded room until this desire of yours fades, but Jake? I mean, he just got you back, you two just got settled into the routine of being back together, and now you’re going to tell him you’re shipping out to a warzone.”

“I know, the timing sucks.”

“You’re really sure about this?” he asked and you nodded. “Because, J… you’re going to come back different, you’re going to see things, do things… this is one of those decisions you can’t undo.”

“I know, it’s not going to be easy… for me, for Jake, for the rest of you but, I really think I need to do this, Roo.”

“Well, I think you’re brave. And I’m really proud of you,” he said, wrapping an arm around you as you settled into his side. “But really? The Army?”

You let out a laugh, “if it makes you feel any better I didn’t join the Army, I’m not suddenly active duty. It’s just a three-month tour, think of it like being a private contractor.”

“That does make me feel better, otherwise I might have had to limit our interactions… appearances and all,” he said and you laughed again. “Now come on, you’ve gotta get inside,” he said, pulling you up with him and you looked at him questioningly.

“I have to?” you asked as he tugged you along, “what’s the rush for lukewarm beer?”

“Can’t tell you that, I don’t know if you’re going to find the timing of this terrible or perfect but that’s not up to me.” he said and now you were thoroughly confused as he held the door open for you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” But, it didn’t matter, he was gone just as quickly as you’d walked into the bar and you smiled as Jake saw you and wrapped you up in a hug.

“There you are, sweetheart, you okay?” he asked, seeing the squirrelly look in your eyes and you nodded, shaking off your conversation with Rooster as you accepted the beer he’d handed you. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Rooster’s just being a tad bit bizarre,” you answered and he chuckled.

“Well, that’s what he does.” he replied and you nodded with a laugh as he led you towards your friends and you narrowed your eyes as everyone had a rather mischievous look on their faces. You heard the piano begin the opening notes of Drops of Jupiter and you gathered that’s where Rooster had run off to in a hurry.

“Okay, what is going on?” you asked as you turned around and you furrowed your brows when Jake was no longer there before adjusting your eye line to see him on one knee before you and you brought your hand up to cover your mouth in shock as your heart pounded in your ears. I don’t know if you’re going to find the timing of this terrible or perfect. It all made sense now.

“Jupiter, I have loved you since I was ten years old… It just took me until junior year to realize it and I’ve known it every day since. We’ve spent the majority of our lives following our own dreams until they led us right back to each other and even though it was difficult I wouldn’t change our story for anything… Being able to watch you grow into yourself and become an amazing surgeon has been the single greatest joy of my life, and I’m so excited for us to finally grow together. I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you got to San Diego, so will you do me the honor of finally becoming my wife?” he asked, eyes full of hope as he flicked the box open to reveal the ring you’d loved since you were little and you felt tears slip down your cheeks as you looked at him. The entire bar had gone silent waiting for your answer and you could feel your friends fighting to stay contained behind you as they watched.

“Yes,” you whispered, there were so many things up in the air, so many things you had to tell him but this was an easy answer. You would have said yes to a ring pop in the aisle of a convenience store. The entire bar erupted in cheers as he stood and slid it onto your finger before pulling you in for a searing kiss. Rooster was still playing the melody in the background but you could hear his sounds of celebration from across the bar and you giggled as Jake released you. You were swept up, the rest of the gang wanting to see the ring and crush you in hugs and when the song ended and the jukebox kicked back on you felt Rooster’s arms on you as he came up behind you.

“You need to talk to him,” he whispered in your ear as you rested your hands on his forearms.

“I know, just… not right now,” you said as the two of you watched him excitedly talk with Phoenix.

“I’m really happy for you, J,” he said, kissing your cheek as he let you go and you gave him a gracious smile before walking down to the bar.

“Let me see!” Penny nearly yelled at you and you held out your hand with a laugh as she examined it thoroughly. “He picked a good one,” she said as she set a drink in front of you.

You chuckled, “oh no, as good as he is I basically picked this out when I was thirteen years old,” you replied. “This was one of his grandma’s rings.”

“That’s so special,” she said as Maverick side-swiped you and wrapped you in a hug that had you letting out a surprised squeal. 

“The first Dagger wedding!” he said as you laughed, “I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“Thank you, Mav,” you replied, face hurting from the splitting smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face but in the back of your mind you knew it couldn’t last… you were leaving in a week and only one person in this bar knew. You let Jake twirl you around the bar, creating a dance floor where there wasn’t one as your friends shrouded you in love, watching through misty eyes as the two of you enjoyed your bubble of bliss. When the song ended you looked up at him, imprinting this moment into your mind before you drove a wrecking ball through it and you stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear talk with me outside?

Your friends watched as you slipped out the door before they went back to their normal routines, assuming the two of you were taking a moment alone but Rooster knew better and he gave you a supportive smile when you caught his eyes. “How are you feeling, future Mrs. Sersein?” he asked and you beamed up at him.

“I like the way that sounds… but it’s future Dr. Seresin, thank you very much,” you corrected and he let out a laugh.

“My apologies, darling,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and you were silent for a moment, fixating on your hands currently pressed against his chest and his eyebrows furrowed as he noticed your change in demeanor. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I have something to tell you,” you said suddenly and even you were taken aback by how you spit that out.

“Okay?” he prompted, leading you to the chairs on the other side of the patio where you sat and avoided his expectant stare.

“Do you remember how I was telling you about that Army doctor who came to town a few weeks ago?” you started and he nodded.

“Yeah, the disaster training you wouldn’t stop yammering about,” he teased and you just gave him a sad smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, uh… oh, this was so much easier with Rooster.” you sighed and now he was really concerned.

“What does Rooster know that I don’t?”

“He told me about a tour heading out next week to the middle east, a three-month rotation. I… I tried not to think about it, to pretend I didn’t want to go, but I really, really wanted to go and before I could fully stop myself I signed up.”

“You signed up? What does that mean?”

“It means next week I’m shipping out to the middle east,” you said, and you watched him process your words. “For three months.” 

“Okay, uh…” he started, trying to gather his thoughts. “This is set in stone, then? You’ve fully signed yourself up?” You nodded, wishing he would stop asking questions and get to the part where he’s mad at you. “And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?”

“I wanted to… but I was focusing more on trying to talk myself out of it and then it was like a fever dream, I was suddenly calling that Army doc and telling him to put me on the list.” 

“Did you think I was going to get mad at you? Is that why you talked to Rooster first?” he asked and you didn’t miss the tone of hurt in his voice.

You nodded again, “he was my trial run, as weird as that is.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird, honey, he’s your best friend, as much as that’s something that doesn’t make sense to me, talking to him first does, I just… you and I are best friends and partners, you’ve gotta talk to me before you make big decisions like this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, tears welling in your eyes and he was quick to wipe them away when they fell.

“Well, if you had talked to me before you took this on all by yourself, I would have told you that I want you to do what makes you happy, and if that means doing this tour then I support you. Am I mad you kept me in the dark? Totally, but you and I have been making big decisions separately for almost a decade, it’s going to take time to get used to being partners again.” he said and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. “This terrifies me, J, but this is just who you are… you want to help people, even if that means shipping yourself off somewhere dangerous. How could I ever fault you for that?”

“You’re not mad that I’m going?” you asked in disbelief and he let out a soft laugh.

“Of course not, sweetheart.” He wrapped his hands around yours that sat in your lap. “You’re going on a deployment, do you know how much of an ass I would be if I even tried to be mad at you for that? I’m going to do this to you at some point, granted I never thought I’d be on the opposite end of this situation, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I love you so much, you know that?” you asked as he tugged you up and pulled you into his lap.

“Not as much as I love you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I want to get married,” you said and he laughed at you.

“Sweetheart, we are… unless you wildly misunderstood what that just was in there.”

“No, right now, this week… before I leave,” you said and his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely, I… I know we’re not talking about the danger aspect because we both understand and we don’t need to get into it but there is danger and… I don’t want anything holding you back from getting answers or being the first one contacted if something does happen.”

“Yes,” he said, kissing you again. “I thought you were going to make me wait a whole year to finally call you my wife.” 

“Never,” you replied, giggling as he swept you up and carried you back towards the bar. “We’re going to be good, right?”

“Better than good.”

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[familyvideostevie]

43 for Steve

u got it ! <3

a goodbye kiss, but neither of you can quite let go __

"And you'll call me when you get there?" Steve asks. His hand is warm through your jeans where it sits in your back pocket. "So I know the plane didn't go down?"

You roll your eyes but nod. "Just because you hate flying doesn't mean you can scare me." The gate attendants make an announcement that your flight will start boarding in a few minutes.

"If you forgot anything --"

"It's only a week, Steve," you say gently. "I'll be back so soon I bet I'll beat the postcards I'm going to send." He sighs and takes your backpack off of his shoulder to set it on the ground before he pulls you into his arms.

"I'm being needy, aren't I?" You squeeze his torso, hands rubbing up and down his back.

"Maybe, but you're also being cute," you reply. This will be the first time you're away from Steve since you moved in together. You already know you're going to sleep like shit until you're home.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, c'mere. Lemme kiss you goodbye". He puckers his lips and you eagerly lean in to meet them, kissing him gently, sweetly. He pulls his hand out of your pocket to cup your jaw, angling you so he can turn it into something a little deeper.

"Giving everyone a show," you mutter. He smiles against you but doesn't stop, lazily exploring your mouth as the gate agent calls for passengers to board the plane. Just when you start to consider calling your aunt and telling her you can't come, Steve pulls away.

"Better go," he says. "I'll be at the gate when you land next week, okay?" You kiss him again once, twice, three times, until he laughs, and gently pushes you away.

"Fine," you grumble. He picks up your backpack and you shoulder it with a sigh. "One more?" you ask.

"Who's the needy one now?" Steve says, but he's already reaching for you again. His lips are soft on yours for just a few moments before he presses an equally tender kiss to your forehead. "Love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too," you say. The gate agent calls for passengers again and you're sure she's staring at you. "I'll call you!" You tear yourself away from him before you can change your mind and get in line to show your ticket. You turn to look back just once and see Steve standing there still, watching you with his hands in his pockets. He raises one hand and waves at you, mouth quirked in that smile that makes your stomach flutter.

Maybe leaving isn't so bad when you have Steve to come back to.

[itsgenevieve]

We are just people // Chapter 1

I wondered why there were so many criminals in Musatafu. There were robbery attempts every time I went out. Even if the number of heroes kept on increasing, the crimes seemed not to stop. If I didn't have unsolved business in this city, I would have left and gone somewhere quieter.

I sighed as I got stuck in traffic because of another criminal. My boss would kill me if I was late for work. I pushed my luck and sped through the heroes, doing interviews and signing autographs. Luckily, they didn't follow me; they didn't care. After a few minutes, I arrived at the agency and parked my motorcycle in the first spot I found.

I stepped into the building and arrived in front of my boss's office in no time.

«Hey, boss.» I sat on the big armchair in front of his desk.

«You're three minutes late.» he said without even looking at me, too busy writing a report.

«There was a villain, got stuck in traffic. But that's not the point. Why did you call me?»

«I have a new mission for you. It's important. You'll have to attend UA, the school for heroes.»

«What? But I already went to school.» I crossed my arms, annoyed.

«You attended a military school, that's different.»

«That's it? I just go to school?»

«If you behave and do not get too much attention, then we'll proceed with the second part of the mission.» he finally looked at me.

«Fine, I hope the pay is good.»

He just rolled his eyes and passed me a note with my salary. That was a lot.

«Not bad, but I'm sure you can do way better.»

«Don't push your luck.» his glacial eyes pierced me.

After that, we discussed some other details, and I was free to go.

(...)

A week later, I was in front of the massive school. Busy students walked beside me, not even sparing me a glance. I stepped inside the school, not really knowing where to go. Have I gotten lost? Maybe. Was I too prideful to ask for directions? Exactly. After what felt like an eternity, I was in front of the 1A, my class for the rest of the mission.

«You must be Tomoe Yakedo.» a man in his late thirties appeared behind me. Was he in a sleeping bag? He looked at me with no interest. I just nodded. He opened the door and stepped inside, telling me to follow him. «Be quiet, we have a new student.» twenty pairs of curious eyes were on me. «I'm Tomoe Yakedo. Nice to meet you.» I bowed, trying to ignore the stare of my classmates.

I sat at the only available desk and listened to the lessons of the day, wondering about this mission. Did the agency want someone in the school to monitor the future heroes? I looked around. I already knew pretty much everyone in this room. After the attack at the USJ the agency wrote a report on each one of them. Maybe they wanted to recruit someone. The guy next to me was the most interesting one. Todoroki Shoto. With such a powerful quirk, he was unquestionably hero material.

«Tomoe Yakedo, right? I'm Mina Ashido.» a pretty girl smiled at me during the lunch break.

«Yes, nice to meet you.» I was unsure of how to greet her. How did teenagers greet each other?

«What's your quirk?» she was enthusiastic, her eyes shining with excitement and curiosity.

«It's called vampirism. It's a mix of two quirks. It's difficult to explain.» I didn't want to reveal my quirk so soon.

«You're a vampire?!? That's so cool.» now she was jumping in excitement.

«Come on Mina, don't scare her.» a beautiful girl with black hair joined the conversation.

«My name is Momo Yaoyorozu. A pleasure.»

Soon, the entire class came to talk to me.

«Don't be too excited. After lunch, we'll do a physical test.» Aizawa said.

(...)

«For this physical test, we'll do different activities. The only rule is that you can't use your quirks. Have I made myself clear?»

The activities were nothing out of the ordinary, simple stuff I did every day when I was training.

At the end of the test, Aizawa showed us the leaderboard; It did not surprise me when I saw myself at the top with a significant point of difference from the others.

«As you may have noticed, Yakedo is older than you. She graduated recently from military school. She trained for years and her physical form is impeccable.»

«Sometimes you can find yourself in situations where using your quirk is not optimal and you have to rely only on your strength. Your results are embarrassing.» he scolded everyone, a clearly disappointed look on his face.

Oh god, they're going to hate me. Maybe I shouldn't have used so much strength.

«I wish I were as strong as you!» Uraraka said, throwing her arms up in desperation.

«You're so manly!» Kirishima said proudly with tears in his eyes.

«I can't believe you're so strong without using your quirk.»

(...)

At the end of the day, I was walking outside the school with some of my classmates.

«We'll have no chance against you at the Sports Festival.» Kaminari cried out.

«Oh yeah, I won't take part in the Festival, I'm not interested.» the boss was clear, I shouldn't draw too much attention to myself.

«I'll see you tomorrow.» I said when I arrived at my motorcycle.

«That's yours?!? You're even cooler than I thought.» Mina exclaimed. How cute.

«Next time I'll give you a ride.» I said jokingly, winking at her and making her blush.

I hopped on my motorcycle and sped through the roads of Musatafu. I had to report everything that happened to the agency. I had almost forgotten how boring this part of the job was.

(...)

«Hey, Boss. I got your reports.» I stepped into his office without knocking.

«Put them on my desk. I'll read them later. We have to discuss something more important first. Please, sit.»

I sat on the leather armchair, waiting for him to continue. I started playing with the glove in my left hand, wondering what was so important.

«The primary aim of this mission is getting vital information. We want to know what the villains are interested in so that we can expect their next steps. The client insisted on not doing anything to stop them. He just wants information.»

«To get the information you'll meet with a villain, we don't know who. I already contacted them from you. They think you work alone.»

«You didn't tell me I had to go undercover. I did not agree with this. Undercover missions are not my strong suit, you know that.»

«You just have to act as the hero student who thinks the government is corrupted. I think you play that part a bit too well. You just have to give them everything they want, that's it. We can't lose this client.»

«Helping villains? Have we stepped so low? Is that even legal?» Rage was gradually building inside of me.

«Don't worry about that part. Remember, you are just a mercenary, nothing more.»

I got up from the armchair and started pacing around the office. Was he serious? This mission seemed useless. Helping the villains? Giving them information?

«I might be a mercenary, but I still have morals. If I suspect the villain is organising something that will hurt people, I'll stop him. I'm not risking the lives of civilians for a mission.»

«Just don't mess it up, or there will be consequences. Close the door on your way out.» he said, letting me know that the conversation was over.

[azsazz]

Just Hold On

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anonymous request: Your blog is amazing!! I was thinking about how protective males are when their mate is pregnant and I was wondering what Az would be like if his mate and fellow spy was captured when spying on another court while pregnant? Or maybe another court took her further on in her pregnancy for leverage on the inner circle? Like what would his reaction be when he found out and the inner circle started looking for you, only to find you a little injured. I love protective badass Az who is a softy for his mate.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,448

_________________________________________

You knew you shouldn't have gone. You should have just told Rhys that you were feeling unwell and you couldn’t make the meeting. Or you could have just told them the truth.

Laying in your bed this morning with a numb mind, staring at the rays of sun dancing across the ceiling as the sun rose. Placing your hands over your stomach, you thought of what you would do, how you would tell him. You longed for the empty spot next to you to be filled with the warm body of your mate, holding you tightly to him in his sleep, his face restful and calm.

He was away for nearly two weeks now, deep into the land of Rask on a mission from Rhys. It had been fine at first, as you were used to him being sent away for such things all of the time, but this morning, a new scent filling the air of your bedroom, sweet and supple, you wished he was here with you.

You and your mate had talked about children before and you knew that someday he would like a family of his own, but both of you were in the height of your careers working for Rhysand and you decided that it wasn’t the right time for either of you.

Sighing, you climbed out of your bed, choosing to push the worried thoughts from your mind. You had your own assignment to get ready for, one that you begged the High Lord to give you, not being able to sit around any longer without your mate.

Your movements were mechanical, shoving your legs into your pants, strapping on your armor, lacing up your boots, easy tasks that didn’t take much thought. You refused to look at yourself in the mirror as you did your hair, not wanting to face your problems head-on. 

You were thankful for the fact that you were alone at the house. No one else was around to pick up on your new scent or the way you were acting differently. Of course Az had tried to get you to stay over at the River House while he was gone and you assured him you would if you were feeling lonely, but the thought of getting to relax and take time for yourself was exciting…until your mate had been gone for longer than the three days you’d discussed.

“You’re late,” a familiar voice sounds when you make it to the bottom of the steps. It’s not the Illyrian you wanted to be here, but the one you were attending your mission with.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sliding into your seat at the table as far away as you could manage. Cassian quirked an eyebrow at you before returning to his own breakfast. You were nervous, he could probably tell, but you busied yourself with the breakfast sitting in front of you, forcing yourself to swallow it down even though every bite was like sludge in your mouth and sat heavy in your stomach. 

“You ready?” The warlord looked you up and down as you neared, his eyes widening in realization when he caught on to your scent. He opened his mouth to speak but his protest was cut off when you grabbed onto him and winnowed the both of you to the border of the Autumn Court. 

Unsurprisingly there were Autumn Court soldiers waiting for you when you arrived. You swallowed thickly, Cassian's glare burning a hole into the side of your head as the guards escorted you to the High Lord’s estate. You could feel your friend's anger as he walked slightly angled in front of you, keeping the attention on himself. He knew that Azriel would have his ass if something happened to you or the unborn child he knew nothing about.

As soon as the two of you were led into the throne room where the High Lord and the rest of his kin sat, eyes gleaming with mischief at your scent, you knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well.

Berons grin was wicked with delight as he greeted you and Cassian. “Welcome back to the Autumn Court. I had thought that this meeting was going to be with the two of you since Rhysand can’t be bothered to remove himself from his High Lady’s leash,” the red siphons glimmered next to you, “But it seems you’ve brought a third.”

You kept a firm grip on the knives at your belt even though your hands itched to hold your stomach protectively, the hair standing on the back of your neck. You wondered what they would do now. The meeting was supposed to be simple, talking about alliances, why would you being pregnant change that?

Unless they had ulterior motives from the start.

“We’re here to talk about uniting yourself with the Night Court,” Cassian says casually, but you can hear the underlying threat as clear as day, “When the next war comes, don’t you want to be on the winning side from the start, Beron?” 

Two of his sons exchange smug looks that make your skin crawl.

“Oh, did you not know your little friend is carrying?” the High Lord of Autumn taunts. Your cheeks burn bright. 

“The bastard probably can’t even smell it,” one of the sons sneers while another snickers.

“She probably doesn’t know which one it belongs to,” Eris adds, “With how they share their women over there.”

The Warlord growls deeply in his throat, baring his teeth. His grip is deathly tight around the hilt of his sword and you know he’s getting closer to letting his plan of being cordial to hell and instead cut them down one by one.

“Stop, Cass,” you plead, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. His brows furrow as he looks down at you but the request in your eyes has him backing down, shoulders still tight with rage.

Beron watches with mischievous eyes how you calm the Illyrian. “I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with Rhysand himself,” the High Lord ignores Cassian's statement, eyes moving to look over you, fire burning within them, “Now that we have something he wants, he may finally come.” 

With a nod of his hand you and Cassian are surrounded, armed guards pointing their weapons at you. You and the Warlord immediately move into fighting positions, back to back. Assessing the situation, you know that the male at your back would be willing to fight his way out, and you would too, but with a baby inside of you, the both of you needed to think more rationally.

“Let her go and she will fetch Rhysand,” is what Cassian replies. You’re about to protest but the look he shoots you over his shoulder says enough.

“I think he will come on his own time when his beloved Warlord and the mate to the Shadowsinger don’t return,” he replies, and your stomach twists in fear. “Then we will talk.”

It turns out that you and Cassian would be staying in your own suite, enchanted so only Autumn soldiers could get in and out. You hadn’t been expecting this when the High Lord demanded that you be locked up, instead thinking you were going to be put up in some prison underneath the orchards or something, but this…this was actually nice? 

Maybe they did just want to talk to Rhysand.

Or they were scared of what your mate might do if he knew you had been treated badly while you were trapped here.

You were wondering about your mate when they escorted the two of you through the palace after disarming you. Did he notice the fear tingling down the bond between the two of you? You hadn’t the slightest idea of when he was getting back from his mission, but you knew Rhysand would be finding out you and Cassian were trapped here when he didn’t hear from either of you in a timely manner. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend, stalking close to you, his hazel eyes filled with anger.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell someone,” he growls at you. His hands flex at his sides like he wants to shake you, strangle you for your stupidity. He was right, you should have said something, but facing this revelation on your own and Az being gone, you weren’t sure how to approach the situation. 

You hadn’t even come to terms with it really. What would Azriel even think?

You sigh, breaking eye contact with your friend, “I–”

“Do you know how dangerous this is? What the fuck were you thinking?” he rants, turning away from you and pacing across the light wood floors, his  boots thudding heavily with each step he takes, his siphons flickering with rage.

“I wasn’t,” you admit, looking down and toeing at the burgundy rug in front of you. Your eyes well with tears, everything finally catching up to you now. Would Azriel even be happy about this? Would he request that you terminate it or just up and leave you? You had no idea how he was going to react to all of this. He lived a dangerous life and you knew that, knew that before you even accepted the bond, but bringing a babe into this was something else completely.

“Damn right you weren’t! All you think about is–” seeing the crumpled look on your face, his footsteps still for a moment before he’s racing over to you and pulling you tightly into his arms as you break. 

“He doesn’t even know Cass,” you whimper, hugging the Illyrian as tightly as you can manage. “What the fuck am I going to do?” 

Your friend rubs your back soothingly, holding you just as close, “Well he’s going to find out as soon as he bursts in here to save our asses,” he pokes you in the side, trying to cheer you up. 

You try to smile but you can’t, too worried about your mate. “What if he doesn’t want it?” you blurt the fear that’s been on your mind since you found out. 

Cassian pulls away and looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, “Are you kidding me? You can’t be serious (Y/N). Az has wanted babies since the two of you officially mated.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, tears stopping, instead furrowing your eyebrows, “What?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know Az is a huge softie,” the Illyrian pulls back, rolling his eyes, a loving smile on his face. “He won’t say that he wants them because he thinks he owes his life to Rhysand, but he really wants them.”

“Tham as in multiple?” Your heart is pounding in your chest, stomach fluttering with excitement at the fact that his brother is telling you how much your mate has stressed to the other Illyrian that he wants children.

“A whole bunch probably,” Cassian shrugs, walking deeper into the suite with you on his heels. He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes softening, “But he’ll be happy no matter what, as long as he has you.”

“He does love me, doesn’t he?” you say smugly, biting back a smile as you think about your handsome mate. Maybe you were worrying for nothing. Surely Cassian wouldn’t lie to you.

“Yeah, he absolutely does,” the Warlord grins. 

__________

It’s pretty boring, being locked up in the Autumn Court. 

The room is spacious and the view from the windows of the apple orchard is breathtaking, but not as beautiful as the view from your own home of the big rocky mountains and the bustling city below.

You and Cassian spend the time chatting in the lounge. You hadn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, of course the Illyrian would have a new story to tell you. 

“And then she was like, ‘Cassian, I swear to the mother if you touch that again, I’ll–’” the door opening has the both of you rushing to your feet. You make a move for your blade on instinct, but it’s been taken. You see your friend do the same.

It’s the son that you’re second most familiar with, Eris, followed by two handmaidens with platters of food. 

Cassian’s eyebrows furrow, looking suspiciously at them as they lay the spread out on the table in front of the large windows. He moves in front of you on instinct and you step to the side slightly, keeping your eyes locked on the High Lord’s son.

“We do treat ladies with respect, you know, unlike the ilk in your lands.” Eris comments, hands clasped behind his back, chin held high. You want to roll your eyes at the auburn haired male, Cassian definitely does, but you are hungry. You chose to give him a nod in thanks.

“Tell that to your father then, asshole,” Cassian says bluntly and you cringe, a sharp clang of cutlery falling from one of the handmaiden’s hands onto the table. She squeaks, ashamed, as they finish setting up the table before making a beeline for the door, eyes cast downwards to the floor.

Eris’s eyes flash with fire and you wince. 

“Your Spymaster’s been slinking around the Autumn Court, looking for you no doubt,” he comments cockily, “He’s not as sneaky as he might think.”

You and Cassian share a knowing look that to Eris, might seem concerned, but between the two of you, it means that Azriel is angrier than ever and he’s not trying to hide in his shadows. No, he wants the entire court to know that he’s here to wreak havoc. 

That, and the fact that he’d been away from you for so long meant that the Autumn Court’s plan failed and they don’t stand a chance. If they wanted to walk out of this with no casualties, they had surely locked up the wrong person. 

Your mate was most likely in a frenzy of shadows and worry, if what was faintly coming through the bond was anything to go by. You had sensed the spike of fear that had gone through him when he figured out you were gone, the anger burning slightly in your chest as he undoubtedly ripped into Rhysand for letting you go.

You had tried to send out reassurance to your mate, but he was too worked up to accept that you were telling him you were okay. He needed to see it for himself. 

But the wave of warm anger flowing to you through that bond was getting stronger and stronger by the minute, and you knew your mate was going to have a field day.

“Try and stop him if you want,” you replied just as casually, crossing your arms over your chest, “But don’t think that he wouldn’t kill a thousand soldiers, ten thousand soldiers, to get to me.”

Eris seemed to consider your words, think about who he was actually dealing with. If he had captured the Warlord and the Shadowsinger’s mate, he’d have to deal with their furious counterparts, the High Lord of the Night Court and his Spymaster.

He swallowed hard, whistling over his shoulder for the cavalry stationed outside of your doors, “Let’s go.”

You and Cassian were escorted once again to the throne room where the rest of the residing Vanserra family were gathered to wait for Rhysand. The air was tense with anticipation and you swore the stench of their fear burnt your nostrils. Cassian stuck by your side, ever the faithful friend. You were thankful for him, that he had come with you despite your stupid decision to go on this assignment, protecting both you and the babe inside of you. 

You don’t know what would have transpired if you had been alone, but you didn’t even have time to delve into that mystery as the doors to the room were thrown open. Shadows skittered along the walls in a frenzy, masking over every inch of the room. They covered the windows, blocking the orange glow from the descending sun, casting the room into night as Rhysand and his Shadowsinger appeared, fury rippling from them both. 

“Surely you could think of a better way to get me here than this?” the High Lord of the Night Court’s eyes flickered across the both of you, both you and Cassian giving him the mental note that you were both unharmed. “And keeping an expecting female, no less,” he comments cooly, catching a whiff of your scent and Azriel freezes behind him, “That’s low even for you, Beron.”

You twist your fingers together tightly, watching your mate closely. Your stomach knots with anticipation, waiting for his reaction. His shadows seem to thicken, and you squint at the loss of light, trying to see him.

“They are unharmed,” the High Lord of Autumn replies, his tone higher than before. “You and I have things to discuss.”

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me Beron, my schedule is pretty full right now. I’ll see to it that you are penciled in when I have a spare moment. But for now, I’ll be collecting my colleagues and leaving.”

One of his stupider sons catches you around the shoulders, a surprised noise released from you as he rests his knife across your throat. Cassian tries to grab you but the sharp tip of the blade in his poorly trained hand knicks your skin as you swallow, the bead of blood rolling slowly down the column of your neck, all eyes locked on the red liquid. Everyone in the room freezes alongside your mate who looks like he can barely contain his anger. 

“You will do as my father says,” his voice tremors, his grip on you trembling, “Or she gets it.”

“Beron, I suggest you get your son's filthy hands off of her, if you do not wish to lose another of your offspring tonight.” Rhysands threat does not go unheard, the Autumn High Lord demanding you to be let go. You can sense the son’s hesitation, then his humiliation. He will surely be punished by the hand of the High Lord for this.

He shoves you harshly into the arms of an awaiting Cassian who helps steady you before putting himself between the two of you, walking you backwards towards your friends while keeping a watchful eye on the Vanserra’s.

Your mate's shadows curl around your ankles comfortingly. You dare a glance back at him but he’s standing stock straight, blades unsheathed and sitting threateningly in his cobalt siphoned fists. He doesn’t look at you, although you know he wants to, but he has a job to do, a facade to keep up with, and when you both get back home he will be the Azriel you missed so much.

You let him know that you’re okay down the bond, seeing his shoulders relax just the slightest bit when the feeling is returned. 

“Rhysand–”

Beron’s retort is cut off by the High Lord himself, “Don’t think that you can threaten someone of my court and I would brush it off Beron.” Rhysand dismisses you and the Illyrians, Azriel appearing next to you and clutching you close to his chest as his shadows sweep you into mist and darkness.

“I’m fine,” you breathe as Azriel’s fingers roam your body frantically for wounds as soon as you’ve returned safely, “We’re okay.” His hands still and he looks up at you with those big hazel eyes you love so much.

“How–When–”

“This morning,” you admit, placing your hands over his and guiding them to your stomach. You grin softly up at him, “And I think you know how.”

His mouth quirks up at the side, and he shakes his head fondly, “Indeed I do.”

“Do you…do you want to do this? With me?” Playing with your fingers nervously, not meeting your mates eyes, scared about telling Azriel.

He places a warm hand under your chin, lifting your head so you’re looking up into his eyes. They’re filled with nothing but the love and admiration that you’ve been missing. It’s like he can’t help himself as he dives in capturing you in a breathtaking kiss, his lips firm against yours. He’s longed for this, thinking about you every moment he was gone, yearning for his other half. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your fingers into his dark hair. His tongue flicks against your lips and yours part automatically for him, hungry for more. 

“Awe come on, you knew we were right behind you,” Cassian complains as he appears with Rhysand a moment later. Azriel pulls away with a breathy laugh, resting his forehead against  yours. 

“I’ve wanted to do this with you since the moment I saw you, Darling.”

[notchesandbullets]

The Gentle Giant's Breaking Point (Shoji x Reader)

Art credit: @tonerukun​

Requested by: @/smol_angry_rabbit on wattpad

Aged-Up!AU

Warnings: explicit smut, size kink, dirty talk, hickeys, cursing, being overpowered and completely dominated, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, tender aftercare and soft confession

Words: 6.4k

In downtown Musutafu, Shoji, Tokoyami and Ojiro were wandering around the city packed with people on a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew by, swirling around the hundreds of people who decided to get some fresh air for the first time in weeks.

The second the weather warmed up, food stalls and all sorts of vendors were back on the streets. Mouthwatering scents of sesame soba, senbei and taiyaki curled deliciously into the air and wafted over to everyone within the vicinity, enticing them over to buy the scrumptious street food.

At the first sight of spring, the students of UA scattered, all eager to spend their off day outside.

Kaminari, Bakugou, Kirishima and Ashido all went to the pool, the rest of Class 1-A following in a slow trickle.

It first was Hagakure who wanted to tag along, then Uraraka, then reluctantly Jirou followed by the rest of the girls.

Midoriya sheepishly asked if he could come along too, Todoroki following suit since he'd rather be anywhere than at an empty dorm and end up having to go home to his father.

Mineta was only allowed to come with Sero's tape restricting his hands and covering his eyes. He complained the whole way there that it was unfair but no one paid any attention to him.

Shoji let his arms fall to his sides as he strolled around downtown, following Tokoyami.

He hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, preferring to stay in the dorms. He didn't know when was the last time where it had actually been quiet. Not since before they moved in.

He didn't really have any complaints about his classmates. If anything, he was rather happy to live in a dormitory. It meant he got to see a lot more of you.

You were best friends with him, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time, just like him.

Maybe that's why you got along so well.

Shoji never tried to bother you but it was inevitable when the last class of the day would be dismissed and everyone paired off or huddled up in their groups to talk about anything and everything. He would just be at his desk, pulling out a book or getting started on his homework so he didn't have to worry about it later and you would come over, plop yourself down in the empty desk next to him and start reading a book without a word.

He didn't mind. He rather liked your company. It was quiet. It was nice.

He was going to ask you if you wanted to come with him, Tokoyami and Ojiro today but you were gone when he woke up. At least he had your number and he messaged you to make sure you were okay.

You responded back pretty quickly that everything was fine, you just had to take care of something first and then you'd meet them at the beach.

Shoji thought nothing of it. So when Ojiro asked if he wanted to come along with them downtown because Tokoyami needed to pick up more art supplies before their next class, he readily agreed.

He honestly didn't expect to see you there, let alone run into you. Literally.

You panted, rounding the corner, your eyes round with fear as adrenaline pumped through your veins. But you weren't watching where you were going.

Crashing into someone's very solid chest, your force knocked them over, sending the two of you toppling over instantly.

Springing up, you quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry!!"

All else blanked from your head as you saw who it was you exactly landed on and your jaw dropped open.

"Shoji?!"

Suppressing a groan, he sat up, encircling your waist carefully to ensure you wouldn't fall.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he helped the two of you up into a standing position, completely ignoring Ojiro and Tokoyami's questioning stares. "What are you doing?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when all of the sudden, you were hit by a blinding light.

Various enraged cries echoed from the alley you had just rushed out of.

"Get back here!!!"

"Shoot." You muttered under your breath. "My paralysis wore off."

"You're using your quirk?!" Ojiro exclaimed in shock. "You know that's against the rules!!!"

You ushered everybody into the nearest store hastily, hiding behind All Might merchandise to keep out of sight. "You want to lecture me now or after we call the police?"

While Tokoyami dialed for the local police, Shoji shifted closer to you, using his dupli-arms to hide you from view.

"Who are they?" He asked you.

He knew you weren't the type to go around causing trouble. If you had used your quirk, it had to be because you were cornered with no way out. He knew you.

And judging by that foreign, hesitant look in your eyes, you knew it, too.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." You mumbled under your breath, refusing to look at him.

Shoji didn't say anything else on the matter, dropping it entirely when a shadow passed over him.

You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath as the men searched for you, your breath hitching when Shoji's grip around you tightened protectively. Too many times you had imagined his arms around you but this was a scenario you didn't exactly picture.

The sirens wailing outside had you relaxing the tiniest bit, the rest of the tension leaving your body as the police arrested the three men using their quirks to create destruction.

Shoji didn't let you go quite yet though. Not until he was sure every last one of them left.

Pulling back, he allowed you to slip out of his arms. And that's when he saw it.

The blood.

The cut on your cheek was smeared with crimson and he questioned how he didn't notice that sooner.

Cradling your cheek, he angled your face, his jaw ticking as he got a better look at your injury.

"Y/N."

You gulped as he used your first name without any honorific. You knew he meant business and your heart fluttered at how much he seemed to care for you in that moment.

You shoved down your feelings, forcing yourself to breathe normally, dreading that he would notice how nervous you were.

It wasn't that you really had anything to be anxious about, you knew Shoji would never judge you for any reason. Kind-hearted despite how often he had gotten teased when he was younger, he never let it affect him in any way other than pushing him towards his best self.

You always admired that about it.

Shoji was such a gentle giant and you were one of the few he told about his past and what ultimately led him to striving to become a hero.

Which is why you were so caught off guard by the anger simmering beneath the surface of his eyes as he tended to the abrasion on your cheek.

The officers contained the situation quickly, arresting those that were causing chaos. The same gang of boys who were responsible for your injuries. Tokoyami and Ojiro filed out of your makeshift hiding place first, reporting what you had seen before Shoji helped you up and they turned your attention to you.

All three of their expressions changed from quelled worry to disbelief as you denied all allegations they had clearly made against you.

Still, the police officers couldn't go against it if you didn't even admit to it but brought the boys down to the station for processing. They would be able to fit the pieces together later once the camera footage of the convenience store was recovered. Until then, they let you go.

After you refused medical treatment when the police arrived on the scene, absolutely hating hospitals, you trekked back to the dormitory to sort out your injuries.

They were rather mild and you weren't worried about it at all. The hero-in-training hovering over you though, said otherwise.

You sat on one of the many couches in the common area of Heights Alliance so that he could patch you up. It was a good thing that the dorms were empty since everyone was gone for the rare off day that they got.

Shoji had ushered Ojiro and Tokoyami to go on without him to meet up with the rest of their class at the beach, promising that he would look after you and make sure that you didn't actually need a hospital.

But you also thought it was to make sure you weren't going to do anything reckless again.

He had already scolded you for not taking your wounds seriously enough and insisted on treating them, which was a bit weird because he never was one for insisting on anything unless he felt strongly enough about it.

The atmosphere was tense as he put away the rest of the medical supplies, settling for a simple butterfly closure after he cleaned the area.

Now, he was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Heat flooded to your lower regions no matter how hard you tried to stop it. It was clear that he was frustrated, borderline angry and upset with you for reasons unclear to you but hope kindled in your heart.

There was no way he liked you like that. He never said anything about it before.

Regardless, no one should look that good while they were enraged. The silent fury simmering beneath the surface of his being was too good of a look on him.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Shoji questioned, peeling off his mask and revealed a deep-seated frown etched on his face.

Your breath caught in your throat. No matter how many times you saw his face, it never failed to take your breath away and stop time completely.

He was beautiful.

"I-I—" You stammered, at a loss for words due to his vulnerability in front of you. He clearly trusted you a great deal. You wanted to return the gesture.

Your heart rate spiked in nervousness and you swallowed hard.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your voice got quieter and more solemn as you told him about these people who had been bullying your little brother. Your parents weren't in the picture, and since your aunt, who had taken the two of you in, didn't care much other than making sure you were fed and attending school, you knew you couldn't depend on her for help.

You had been bullied too, something you told your brother the second you walked in one weekend and he burst into tears. You felt horrible. At UA, you were too far away to protect him, but you promised you'd do something about it.

Logically, you knew you should've gone to the authorities. But you were just so blinded by rage and hell bent on revenge for these boys who had struck him across the face and punched him in the eye more than once that you weren't going to let it go on for a second longer.

Shoji was silent when you finished. You played with your fingers in your lap, unsure of what to do. Maybe you talked too much.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Your head snapped up and you gaped. You didn't have an answer for him.

Shoji sighed and his eyes saddened. "You can rely on me, on our friends. We would have helped you."

You looked back down, his gaze too intense for you to hold. He was staring at you too earnestly and you felt the hurt that resonated within him at the actions you didn't take to reach out towards him.

"I know." You whispered. "But I didn't want any of you to get involved."

A discontented noise emitted from the back of his throat and Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line, clearly disagreeing with you but not voicing it.

The silence turned uncomfortable and you shifted in place, discreetly rubbing your thighs together as a shiver passed through your body.

Your eyes widened as he draped his shawl over you. You gulped as Shoji bulking form loomed over you, your heart now beating faster for another reason entirely.

"S-Shoji?!"

"Mezo..." He murmured. "We're alone. You can call me Mezo."

This wasn't anything new, you had already been comfortable enough to call him by his given name when the two of you were on your own but this was the first time he had requested you to say it before you got a chance to speak it.

He beat you to the punch. How unlike him.

You blushed, arching your back into his touch as he gripped your waist and drew you close to him to warm you up, heat flooding to your lower regions without permission at his low voice. "Mezo."

He groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck at how intimate his name sounded when it fell from your lips. Physical affection wasn't rare between you two, but it largely remained platonic.

Until now. He couldn't suppress it any longer.

Capturing your lips in a heated kiss, he moved over you, unable to stop himself from pinning you to the couch.

"Ahh~" You moaned as he detached himself from your lips, keening as he continued down, pushing his jacket out of the way for better access to your neck. You weren't against this, but it was going too fast. You wanted him to slow down so that you could at least see him. "M-Mezo, w-wait..."

Stifling a groan, he reluctantly parted from your skin, catching your gaze.

Worried he had made you uncomfortable, he questioned, "Do you not want this?"

After you shook your head so violently that he was surprised you didn't knock into anything, he raised an eyebrow when you didn't express anything else.

"Then what's wrong?" Shoji asked lowly, voice gravelly and giving away just how much of an effect you had on him.

You bit your lip shyly at how you probably looked. Spread out for him, flushed to the core and panting. Your mind was racing. He had kissed you.

"S-Someone could walk in," You objected, stammering as you were only half aware that you guys were in the common area. "Don't you think we should— holy shit!!"

While you were protesting, he took the opportunity to latch onto the sweet spot under your neck, sucking harshly.

You couldn't help but whimper, your hands splayed against his broad chest as he continued to paint your skin with splotches of purple and pink.

"Mezo, come on, we should— eep!!"

Fed up with your objections as it hindered his passionate onslaught to your supple skin, Shoji hooked your legs around his waist, his huge hands cupping your ass as he practically sprinted to his room.

This time, your lips descended onto his, connecting the two of you together all the way there. You rocked against his hard-on pressed in between your bodies, moaning into his mouth as your core throbbed with need.

A growl ripped from the back of his throat as you did, and he leaned down to lay you on his bed, never separating himself from you for a second.

Cupping his face with both of your hands, you parted your lips, letting him explore your hot cavern. He slotted his body between your hips.

The two of you groaned in tandem as one of your hands slithered down to cup the stiff bulge and you whimpered when he pressed his knee against your clothed core. The pressure made slick pool in your panties and caused it to stick uncomfortably to your wet folds.

"Y/N..." He breathed shakily, his eyes clouded, giving away how much you affected him. "Can I—"

"Yes, please." You cut him off, unable to wait a second longer. "Please, Mezo, fuck me?"

Shoji's eyes widened and his cock got impossibly harder, straining against the confinements of his pants as he heard you beg for him. Beg for his cock to fill you up.

Fuck, that was so hot.

Your core was already throbbing with the need to have him inside of you. If he didn't do something soon you were sure you were going to combust.

Seeing his hesitancy as his fingers danced along the waistband of your pants, you quickly got tired of waiting and undressed by yourself, throwing your clothes in an uncaring heap onto the floor.

His eyes grew round in awe as your bare skin, breasts and that special place between your legs was revealed for him to freely drink in as you laid out before him, not an ounce of shame coloring your cheeks, save for the pink tips of your ears.

Cute.

Your back arched as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his big hands kneading the soft flesh, going harder when your response spurred him on. You whined as he flicked the pebbled tit, crying out as he bit down on it gently, a shock shooting through your system.

Shoji was studying every single one of your reactions to his touch, drinking it up as his eyes devoured you with barely restrained hunger.

"So... you like to be treated roughly..." He mused as he pulled upwards, your body following his touch as he let go of your breasts abruptly. "That's very interesting."

You whimpered in protest but that faded as he took his shirt off, the defined and sculpted muscle enough to make you forget what you were about to complain about. He was ripped, his torso flexing powerfully as he threw his shirt in the direction of the growing pile of clothes.

Licking your lips, you pulled him down to his level as he hastily undid the button of his pants, shoving it just past his hips so that his cock sprang free.

Your jaw dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear?!

Aside from that, he was fucking huge. How was even going to fit inside of you?!

You weren't given any time to dwell on his size as a finger probed your entrance. Your hands shot down to his wrist instinctively.

"M-Mezo, I'm s-sensitive—!!"

You cut off with a cry as he slipped it in, stretching you out.

Shoji closed his eyes, trying to restrain himself but you were just so hot and tight, pulsing around his finger like nothing else he ever felt.

"Is it too much?" He asked caringly, kissing you to ease you through it. You were unbelievable tight, he could already feel you clenching down on his single digit. "Do you want to stop?"

If your mind wasn't clouded with lust, you would've picked up on the subtle teasing lilt of his voice, as though he already knew what you were going to say.

"No..." You protested, squeezing your eyes shut, unknowingly doing exactly what he expected.

You could take it. You wanted him to make you take it.

Your eyes widened as he cursed behind you and that was when you realized that you said that last part out loud.

Oops. You were really in for it now.

You gasped in surprise as his hands released your wrists, but it was only temporary as he hooked your legs around his waist before he was immobilizing you again. Struggling slightly even though you were clearly overpowered, you begged for him to let you touch him before you died but he refused, shutting you up with a passionate kiss that stole your breath away.

Your body lurched and you wailed as he finally sank into your cunt, moaning and panting like a dog in heat as he sheathed his massive member all the way inside of your spasming channel.

A broken whimper of his name fell from your lips as his hips finally pressed flush against your ass, mewling as his balls rested against your puckered hole. You buried your face into his neck, ashamed of your reaction. He had barely done anything yet and already you felt like you were on the brink of cumming.

"Mezo—" You warned breathlessly, mouth gaping at the sheer size of him, your hole struggling to adjust. "Ngh!!"

Shoji braced himself up on his forearms, swearing under his breath as you clamped down around him. His fingers laced with yours from where he was still pinning your arms over your head, bending down to kiss you in order to distract you from the stretch.

You were hot, tight, and squeezing him with so much force, he already felt like he was going to cum. Stuttering out your name, he hissed as you clenched around him again.

"Y-Y/N, stop— don't do that." He begged, one of his hands fisting in your hair as he held onto his last thread of restraint while you adjusted to his size.

"C-Can't help it, Mezo." You whimpered, scratching his broad back as you fought the urge to arch your hips, knowing that was just going to encourage him to move before you were ready. "You... You're so big."

He had never prided himself on things like this, by how much he received praise or compliments from others so that he didn't have to question the authenticity of it, preferring most times to simply acknowledge it then let it go so that it didn't go to his head.

But he couldn't help it with you. There was something about the way you said it that ignited a flame of passion inside of him and it could not be put out.

Your nails dug into his back and a moan ripped from your throat as you felt him swell inside of you, catching on your walls without even trying.

"M-Mezo?!" You cried out in shock. "Why are you getting, oh fuck—"

A guttural groan sounded in the empty space and he let go of you, straightening up.

"You're so tight and warm." Shoji moaned, his left hand fisting the sheets as he gave a few experimental rolls of his hips, the other caressing your hip while his eyes fixated on where the two of you were joined together. "You feel like heaven, Y/N."

You squeaked in mortification as he said that, clapping a hand over your mouth as he thrusted into you harder, unable to contain the sounds spilling out of your mouth any longer. He felt so good inside of you. Pulsing and hot, thick and hard, it was a wonder how you were delirious with pleasure on his cock.

"Fuck..." You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes tightly screwed shut.

Shoji stilled instantly, worried he had hurt you. His eyes scanned over your flushed face in concern.

"Are you alright? Do you want to stop?" He asked quickly and would've pulled out of you if your legs didn't lock around his hips, preventing him from even thinking about it a second longer.

You desperately shook your head then yanked him down to your level.

"Go fast, Mezo, fuck me hard." You pleaded. "Please."

There was no time to feel embarrassed by the words that came out of your mouth as he obliged instantly. Stars blinded your vision and you arched into his touch as he fucked you with a vigor that wasn't present before.

Shoji slammed your wrists down above your head and he kissed you hard, all of it teeth and tongue as he licked away your whimpers before they could break the symphony of wet skin slapping against skin that broke through the still atmosphere of his room.

Both of you were glad everyone was gone for the day because with how much noise you were making, it was clear what was going on.

His lips glossed over your pulse point, licking and sucking at the flushed skin there, marking you once again.

You shivered at the sensation of having him pressed against you and yet still attending to you with the same care you had come to expect from him. Your best friend now turned lover. If this was going to be more than a one-time deal.

"Mezo!!" You cried out as he finally pulled away from your neck, satisfied with the purple that bloomed there.

Shoji's teeth sank into your shoulder as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick and sticky ropes of cum.

You whimpered as he emptied in your ripe cunt, his release setting off yours and the powerful shockwaves of your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. The copious amounts of his cum leaked out the instant he pulled out of you and your hole fluttered, no longer having his length to stuff you to the brim. You felt a bit sad now that you were left empty, and sat up, thinking that you guys were done.

How wrong you were.

You didn't have to look down to see that he was still hard as his cock pressed against your inner thigh the moment he kissed you again.

"Mezo?!" You shrieked, moaning wantonly against his lips as he moved over you once more. "How are you still hard?!"

He groaned, obviously in discomfort for having been denied even though he just came. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I need to cum again to make it go down."

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of the leaking head and you moved to try and suck him off, wanting nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue as he shot his last load inside your mouth but he shook his head and stopped you short.

"You don't have to do that." Shoji said quickly, his cheeks flushing pink as he imagined you with your ass up as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock. Fuck, you'd look so good like that. But he had something else in mind.

Your eyes had glazed over a long time ago from the pleasure that he delivered to your system.

"I want to." You implored, batting your eyes at him, pupils blown wide.

Shoji surged forward, kissing you harder than last time and you melted into his touch. Any other time, he wouldn't fight you on it. But he didn't want to make you work any harder, even if it looked like you really wanted to suck him off. For now, he was content just to see you like this.

Spread out in front of him for only his eyes to see.

"Can you lay like this, Y/N?" He asked, gently maneuvering you onto your tummy and perking your rear up as a hand trailed down your spine to get you into the position he wanted to see you in. "I'll finish quickly."

You moaned quietly, still turned on and horny from before. Even though he had satisfied you so completely, there was a part of you that still longed to have him again.

You wanted him to stuff his cock in you like this.

So you couldn't help but mess with him a bit as the slick sounds of him jerking himself off started and breathy moans fell from his lips. You could go another round for him.

Poking out your ass a bit more, you smiled to yourself as his breath hitched and his movements stuttered. Swaying it from side to side purposefully to entice him, you were shocked when it worked a little too well, bringing out the beast in the tame boy that was your best friend.

Your eyes shot open and your jaw dropped open in a soundless cry as he pushed into you without warning, sinking his fat cock balls-deep into your pussy still quivering with the aftershocks of your last orgasm.

"Mezo!! Ahhh—" You cried out, caught off guard but unbelievably turned on so much that it filled you with shame.

A messy mixture of your juices and his thick cum pushed out of you as he rammed into you all the way to the hilt and all the oxygen disappeared from your lungs.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt making as he fucked you into his bed had you gripping onto his pillow and slamming it against your face to curb all the noises that were tearing from your throat.

It was yanked out of your grasp a second later.

"Don't hide, let me hear you." Shoji begged, unable to help himself from shoving his cock into the deepest parts of your little cunny. You looked so pretty spread out underneath him like this, at his mercy entirely as he pinned you down. Your arousal ran down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, his fat cock stuffing your hole perfectly.

Like you were made for him.

He threw his head back, he redoubled his efforts to make you feel as good as your pussy was making him feel.

"You look so beautiful when you're taking my cock like this." Shoji whispered to himself in awe, disbelieving that his dream was finally coming true after all this time as he watched his length disappear into you over and over again, completely entranced. "Feels so good, hhgh—!!"

Your hole fluttered around his thick girth, struggling to take his size as he pumped in and out of you at an alarming speed.

Whining, you could do nothing else but take it as he pounded you raw and rough, his hips slapping into your ass with a vigor that blanked your mind and left you gasping at the sensation.

Your wrists, still pinned down by his hands as his duplicated gripped your hips for stability as he got you closer to that peak, strained against his strength as the pressure built up in your stomach. "Mezo...'m gonna... gonna—"

"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cream your cunny on my cock?" Shoji murmured, reducing his thrusts to sharp ruts, focusing all his attention on that little spot that made you see stars. "C'mon, give me one more. I need it."

That did it.

Your orgasm washed over you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body trembling violently as he continued to push your limits, pumping in and out of you erratically before emptying himself into you with a deep groan.

Face flushed and eyes glassy, stilling rolling back from the throws of the intensity of your orgasm, you panted, twisting back to meet him in a kiss much softer and more loving than all the previous ones.

Now that his pent up frustration had been dealt with in the best possible way, he pulled out of you with a soft grunt, kissing you wordlessly when you whined at the loss of him.

Shoji hushed you softly as he cleaned the mess dripping out of you with a warm washcloth, urging you to go to the bathroom.

You couldn't stand up though, lacking the strength after that very thorough dicking down he gave you. Legs like jelly, you would've collapsed to the floor if he didn't catch you in time, pulling you up to his chest to carry you the rest of the way.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he took care of you, seeing as how all your energy was depleted. Slapping his chest halfheartedly in embarrassment as he chuckled when you jolted as he cleaned the sore but achingly sensitive bud between your legs.

Shoji nudged your ear with his nose, murmuring softly. "Are you alright?"

You hummed, eyelids heavy as you started to drift off.

He kissed the top of your head before bringing you back to bed so that you could take a nap. Somewhere between the walk from his bathroom to his bed, you stirred, arising from your light slumber only to be met with a concerned expression.

"Calm down, Mezo," You giggled, pecking him on the lips softly. "I'm good."

His shoulders slumped in relief. He was kind of worried he had broken you after a session like that. Scratching the back of his neck once you laid down, he hesitated before speaking.

"Don't worry me like that again. You're too reckless for your own good." He told you, anxiety resting heavy on his features.

You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively. "I don't know... That was a pretty good punishment if you ask me."

Shoji rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile played upon his lips. "I'm serious, Y/N."

Your smile disappeared and you nodded solemnly, sheepish now that you had been chastised.

"I know, I'm sorry." You apologized quietly, remorseful. You hadn't meant to worry him or any of them really. You honestly thought that you could handle it.

You had fought villains before, you thought you could tame a few punk kids who were bullying your little brother. You almost felt ashamed that they had managed to best you.

The initial idea was to capture them and report them to the authorities, since they were a part of a crew who liked to rob stores for fun, but the tables turned on you when they freely used their quirks on you.

Luckily, you had been able to dodge most of them, only sustaining minor damage from an attack you hadn't avoided in time.

Shoji knelt down by the bedside and your brow furrowed when he didn't climb under the covers with you.

"Mezo?" You squeaked when he engulfed you in a hug, all your insecurities melting away as his warmth flooded you.

He trembled as you said his name but otherwise didn't move. Instead, he mumbled something against your neck and you laughed.

"I can't quite hear you." You teased him, prying him away to get a good look at his eyes. They were swirling with an unknown emotion and you swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"

Shoji stared at you, his gaze boring into your soul as he took down all your walls you had built up around your heart to protect yourself with an ease that shocked you.

"Rely on me." He murmured, lacing his fingers with yours and gulping at how small your hands were compared to his. "I want you to rely on me like..."

You couldn't breathe. It sounded like...

"Like what?" You prompted breathlessly, not daring to hope that he was going to say what you so longed to hear from him.

His cheeks pinked and he turned away from you. "Nothing."

Your heart sank into your chest and you visibly deflated.

"Oh..." You said softly, expression saddening when he refused to look at you.

Gathering the sheets around you to cover your naked body, you suppressed a shiver as the cold air got through and you blindly reached around for your clothes on the floor.

Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line and he shook his head. Any other time, he would be there to help you but not now. Not when his mind was racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong if he confessed his true feelings for you right here and now.

It was overwhelming him and he felt overtaken by fear that you would reject him, destroying the close friendship you had.

But...

"Y/N."

You straightened up, fumbling with the sheet as it accidentally slipped. But you blushed when Shoji draped his shawl over you, his scent filling your nose and you tripped over your words, thoroughly flustered for some kind of explanation as to why you were reacting like you were back in your first year of high school.

"I like you."

You balked, jaw dropping open in shock.

Shoji actually jumped back, startled as you swore in front of him.

"You're kidding."

His brow furrowed in confusion and he crossed his arms. "No, I'm perfectly serious."

You shook your head. There was no way that he, the coolest, most respectable and kindest guy you have ever met and had the privilege of calling your best friend, liked you back.

But judging by that affronted look on his face, you might've jumped to conclusions too soon.

Warily, you approached him, abandoning the search for your clothes.

You hastily apologized. "I'm sorry, I guess it's hard to believe how someone like you would be interested in me."

Now in front of him, you had a chance to see how much he towered over you. It was different from when you would hang out in each other's rooms where he would crouch down on the floor or sit on a chair so that the height difference wasn't so obvious.

But you felt safe as he curled his arms around you tentatively, even though it was such a contrast to how he was fucking the brains out of you earlier.

"Well, I do." Shoji murmured into your hair as he brought you in for a hug, firm and unyielding in his feelings for you even though you had yet to say anything.

You hadn't said it back but you hadn't shot him down either. He didn't know if it was foolish to hope for a chance that you would want to be with him too, or perhaps, oh no, had he made you uncomfortable?

Maybe you weren't saying anything because you didn't know how to reject—

"I like you too." You mumbled into his chest.

This time, Shoji was the one to do a double take. "Y/N?!"

"Oh hush." You said, hiding your face from his frantic gaze so that he couldn't see how red your face was. Confessing feelings was exhausting and now you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with your new boyfriend.

Shoji's chest rumbled underneath your fingertips and just when you thought your face couldn't burn anymore out of embarrassment and shyness, he leaned back and tipped your chin up.

"I'm glad you return my feelings." He smiled, a pure smile that radiated the most wholesome level of happiness possible and your heart skipped a beat.

You found you mirrored his joy instinctively, it was contagious. And when he closed the distance to kiss you once more, it sealed a pact that would stay forever and could never be broken.

"I think I'll have to be more reckless from now on." You breathed when he finally pulled away and a small pout formed on his lips.

"Y/N..." Shoji warned, not finding your joke funny in the slightest.

You giggled, looping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes, booping his nose with yours. "I'm kidding, but I do think it was worth it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

You grinned, a cheeky smile that told him he hadn't seen the last of your mischief.

"Because it finally got you to confess."

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

[moemoemammon]

I wanted to draw this because I've got brain rot, but my arms are damaged and I cannot so you'll have to take it as text: ⬇️⬇️⬇️

After making their pact together, Leviathan and Daikon had no choice but to communicate to clear up the bad blood between them. But given that they're both introverts who weren't on speaking terms, they chose the next best medium for awkward starter conversations: text!

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

After a week or four of texting back and forth, they stepped so far into meme-spam and shitposting territory that you'd think they were old pals (despite barely holding a conversation irl). They'd even acknowledge each other on the halls when passing!That being said, Levi finally gathered the courage to invite Dai to his room for games! Only.. it wasn't really how either of them imagined things.

Daikon was unusually quiet, and Leviathan assumed he was weirded out. Was it the figurines lining the walls? The posters plastered to nearly every surface?? The fact that he didn't have a real bed??? Of course he'd be uncomfortable. Who in their right mind would want to hang out with an otaku? Anxieties swam through the Avatar of Envy's mind about which of his endless shortcomings could be the object of Dai's disdain, until he couldn't hold it in any longer: he had to know!

.....But he could never ask it out loud. No way! That's way too much for a shut-in to handle! So Levi accepted his fate, and the awkward tension that hung thick in the air the entire evening. Where was that chaotic energy Daikon radiated in their messages? The picture spam, the texts at ungodly hours of the night, the random stories about his life that highkey sounded fake??? None of that was present right now, only the sound of tense silence filling the room.

"-It was terrible! Gaaah, I knew I shouldn't have invited him over! Who would want to come in my room anyway?! What was I even thinking, inviting a normie in?" Leviathan lets his head fall against the dinner table, lamenting to his brothers about the worst movie marathon he’d ever had to endure. Luckily for him the human in question chose to eat in his own room alone, as was standard considering he’d been kidnapped and forced to attend a weird demon school. "I didn't think he’d be THAT uncomfortable, though. He barely said a word! But when we text, he can send paragraphs and paragraphs!"

A twitch of annoyance quirks Lucifer's brow and the eldest feels a migraine coming on. "If you'd been paying more attention, maybe you'd understand why he acts that way." Levi didn't get it. Paying attention to what?? "This is why I tell you to leave your room more often."

"What're ya worry in' about that human so much for anyway?" Mammon asks, trying to play aloof to mask the jealousy bubbling within him. He pushes his food around his plate absentmindedly. "It ain't like it matters if he talks to ya or not. Actually, you should just forget all about it! No need to talk to em!"

"What they're trying to say is," Asmodeus steals the spotlight effortlessly, a taunting smile tugging at his glossed lips, "Daikon is always like that. He doesn't say much to anyone, ever. Why, the only person he's had a long talk with was probably Luke! It was so cute, hearing the both of them share recipes~"

"So in short, you didn't do anything. Daikon doesn't say much to any of us. Though, I'm sure there's more than one reason for that. You mean they've been here for nearly a month, and you didn't even know that?" Satan always had a way with words that made Levi feel like a fool. But how was he supposed to know the normie didn't speak? He was completely different online!!

[bakugotrashpanda]

Daydream Hawks x Reader Word Count: 951 College AU

A/N: A small, completely self indulgent something based on a conversation mindninjax, katsukikitten, and I had about who our best friends with no romantic attachment would be (Shouto for me) and somehow it devolved into College AU Shouto calling out my crush on both his brother and the professor

You never thought you’d be making googly eyes at your Anthropology professor, but here you are, 8am and ready to study… the man at the front of the classroom. The lights lower as the projector in the back of the room boots up and you’re glad for the darkness. Not only does it cover the rising blush burning up your face, but it also eases your migraine pain slightly.

You hadn’t planned on getting shit faced the night before, but when your roommate and Denki barged in with a bottle of tequila, you somehow found yourself going from being the voice of reason and babysitter for the growing number of drunk people in your room to being the drunkest. Somehow you ended up in the bathtub with a crick in your neck.

Professor Takami runs a hand through his blond hair and sifts through his notes. He was the only reason you actually attended your early morning classes. Normally, you would skip and teach yourself the material and only show up on test days. It was an hour five times a week, but seeing the man in his button up shirts pushed to his elbows made it worth it.

The seat next to you scoots out, and a warm body slides into place.

“Just in time,” you murmur and open your notebook, pen poised over the lined page.

Shouto slips his laptop out of his bag and opens it up. The screen dims automatically to match the light in the room. “I thought you would show up fifteen minutes late with a pair of sunglasses and a quad shot latte.” Even with the dim light of the room, you can see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk.

You roll your eyes. “I’m more responsible than that and you know it.”

“You were supposed to babysit the others with me.”

“They’re getting more crafty,” you huff, “Next thing you know, you’ll be roped into it as well.”

“Doubt it.”

You’re about to argue and prod your friend into making a friendly wager when the professor at the front of the room starts speaking. His dulcet voice fills the small auditorium, and you’re enthralled.

Shouto on the other hand, stares at the words on the screen and his eyes glaze over.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you absentmindedly chew on your nail. Professor Keigo Takami; the youngest professor to have tenure in the anthropology department, and the hottest professor by far. You won’t admit it, but you found yourself in one of the coveted 101 courses he teaches once a year, and that’s what launched your interest in anthropology - possibly a major depending on if he teaches the last 4 courses you need to bump your minor up to a major.

And it’s just your luck that he’s your advisor as well - another sought after position. Maybe you should drop by his office again and make sure that you’re still on the right track for completing your minor… and see if you can get a code that would guarantee you a seat in his other classes once registration opens in a week.

A finger pokes your cheek and drops you out of your thoughts. “Are you still drunk?” Shouto asks.

You bat his hand away and straighten up in your seat. “What? No?”

“Your face is red.”

“So?”

Shouto follows your gaze to the professor and his eyes narrow as he turns subtext into context. Turning to face you, he blurts out, “Do you like Professor Takami?” His voice is too loud for the lull in presentation as the slides change. All seventeen other students in the class stare at you - some obviously looking and snickering, others glancing at you out of the corners of their eyes before returning to their notes.

“Shhhhhhou!” you lightly smack his arm to get his attention. You can feel your entire face in flames now.

“What?”

“Your voice is too loud!” you hiss. You’d think that he’d get the hint. You’d think that he’d stop talking - especially in the middle of a lecture. You’d think he’d remember that you hate attention on yourself and this is the opposite of what you want.

You’d be wrong.

“I mean he’s better than my brother,” Shouto continues as you sink down in your seat as far as you can go without straight up lying on the floor. “At least the professor has a steady job and probably doesn’t live in his parent’s basement with his grow op.”

“Shouto!” you nearly scream.

“Mr. Todoroki,” your professor interrupts, a wry grin on his face, “While I appreciate you thinking this is a steady job, and I do have a place of my own, perhaps an analysis of my character can wait until after class.”

“Oh my god fucking kill me now.” You could cry. If you could, you’d run out of the auditorium and never return. Maybe take a year off until your classmates have all graduated.

Shouto returns to his notes, a mischievous smile on his face. The wheels in your head starts turning again, and you put two and two together. “You little shit. You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shouto hums and stares pointedly at the screen. His fingers fly across his keyboard. “But I do know that he hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

Your own eyes hone in on Keigo Takami. Golden eyes lock with your own before sending you a playful wink. He never breaks from his presentation throughout the whole exchange.

“You’re welcome.” Shouto chuckles under his breath. “Now please go after him instead of Touya.”

[gallant-basilisk]

How would yanderes Denki, Erasermic (poly) react to the reader being cold and barely talking to them after they kidnapped her and when one day they suddenly they come home injured, reader has tears in her eyes and patches them up, telling them that they’re stupid and should be more careful

TW!🎭

Blood, injury, obsessive/delusional behaviour, kidnapping (not described in detail), implied Stockholm syndrome, swearing (you decide if it's a lot or not), incorrect/vague injury treatment

.

Yandere!Denki X Reader

"Come on love," Denki threw up his hands in utter desperation, "what do you want me to do??" "Let me go.. that's what you should do." Your monotone and quiet voice stood in stark contrast with his child–like whiny, high pitched voice. "No." The answer was immediate and the decision final. "But.. but be honest– why would you want to leave?" You turned your head away from the golden blond—as much as he tried to force himself into your line of sight—, scoffing at the crack in his voice, making him narrow his eyes at the back of your head and pulling you towards him with a violent yank of your arm.

You bit back a yelp and immediately pushed yourself off of him, only managing to take a step back once before his arms shot out once again and held you firmly this time—forcing you to look at him with furrowed brows. "Let. Go." You hissed with gritted teeth, and he tightened his grip on your wrist. "Why can't you understand! Y/N, you're only safe here." You bit back yet another comment you were about to say as you knew Denki's delusions only grew more each passing second you went against him. You sighed and averted your eyes—staring at your feet—as the gears churned in the back of your head, trying to come up with something. Anything, really.

"Y/N, please," he whispered softly—as if he didn't just yell—and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back, "can't you just trust me? You don't know what's good for you," he paused for a second before finishing, "I do." You snorted and turned your head to glare at him, but didn't utter a word. Didn't try to push him away or to play along—you just let him be, let him do what he wanted. After all, he's dangerous.

The next few hours, days, then weeks you spent holed up in whatever building's room the blond had locked you into. It has been nearly a month since you were kidnapped, and it wasn't bad, per se. You were left alone most of the time as Denki had to attend school to not raise suspicion, not that you really minded it as you had a lot of time to think and slowly came to the realization that if you really wanted to, you could escape. Denki's quirk may be dangerous as hell, but his personality makes him way easier to handle, thus escaping would only require a basic plan and sufficient acting. Even with a quirk–suppressing jewelry strapped to your ankle, you could pull it off.

Naturally, that made you question why you didn't do so already...

Maybe you didn't actually trust your own observations of the boy as you rarely ever talked with him about anything other than school and yourself—since he always dismissed the questions about himself, only repeating what he said since first year.. Because who knows—maybe he's got something up his sleeve, which would be worth worrying about.

Or maybe you just didn't want to escape. After all, you might even say this arrangement was better than when you lived with your family or in the dorms. Not to confuse anyone, you enjoyed both, or at least they were okay in your opinion, but ever since you got here, you rarely had any inconveniences. It was relaxing, and each passing day you fell more into the comfort of stability. You didn't even bother to think about what was going on outside, what were people doing about your disappearance or even where did Denki get the money to spoil you. Not even the question of how he managed to remain uncaught stayed for too long in your mind.

You were free to wander around what was probably a basement, but you couldn't go up to the ground floor. So you explored every nook and cranny, quickly discovering how Denki knew everything you liked and disliked, easily making this place into your dream home. You weren't really concerned about the stalking part as of now, it only elicited an "Oh" from you as you scanned through pictures, notes and videos about yourself. Even some of your things that you couldn't find for a while were carefully placed in the room.

It was concerning.

It would've been concerning, were it not for your comfort and adaptiveness to the place. Denki always made sure you had everything you needed and you slowly, but surely started believing his words. But even with that, you still took pride in not submitting, so you only muttered a few words a day, humming and using your head to say simple answers—such as yes and no. You refused to give him the satisfication of making you submit, both of you completely unaware that you technically already did—as you became more obedient and docile, Denki began lowering his guard and you passed up so many opportunities to escape.

You just felt comfortable laying in the soft bed, in the perfect temperature, with tasty food to eat and playing video games to cure boredom. You were just simply.. there. And you didn't mind Denki as he gradually calmed down and cuddled you during nights, ignoring the bothered grunt you made every time he tried to divert your attention to himself. You didn't want to—for him to figure you out. Whether you actually started developing genuine feelings for him or you were simply driven into madness would probably remain a question you'll sometimes ask yourself.

Occasionally, as you dip your fingers into his honey–blond hair as he snored quietly, you begin to wonder what would happen if something changed. If you were found and Denki was confronted.

You didn't think about him getting injured though.

But the moment he opened the basement door, you knew something was off—he didn't announce himself, he didn't tackle you in a hug. Instead, you heard him grunt and shuffle. You hesitantly got out of the covers and peeked at the stairs leading up—your breath hitched and you could feel your heart beating in your throat, feeling every throb.

Denki glanced at you and smiled. "Oh, h–hey Y/N" he panted and slid down the wall, blood smearing the surface and slowly pooling beneath him as he held his stomach. After a momentary pause you ran over to him and threw his arm over your shoulder, carefully attempting to help him up. "Ouch, ouch, ouch." "Shut up!" You snapped at him and squeezed his hand, making him let out a breathy laugh for just a mere second before almost collapsing on you. "Shit– stop laughing," you yanked him up, successfully getting him to stand again, "this is not the time for your stupid shit." "Wow.. Ha, this is the most, f– you've talked to me, ugh, this past month." You rolled your eyes and slowly guided him to the bathroom, shushing him as he tried to strike a conversation even in the state he currently was.

As soon as you got the bathroom door open—all gentleness gone—you basically shoved him on the ground as you felt a foreign anger build up inside you, hastily rummaging through whatever medicines and bandages were stashed in the med kit, cursing under your breath.

"Take off your shirt." A sigh left your lips as you could tell, even without looking, that Denki attempted to make a dirty comment as he sucked in a breath of pain and cursed. "You dare say something stupid again, and I'll leave you to bleed out." With bandages and disinfectant held firmly in each hand, you walk back and kneel before Denki—slumped against the bathtub and with his arms held up to shoulder–lever. "Sorry," he huffs with slightly flushed cheeks, "I literally, I can't.." He offers a small, dorky smile and you let out a long breath, pushing his arms up and as gently as you could, you slipped him out of the shirt. "Au, au, auch." The blood had partially dried up and made the cloth stick to his wound—which holy shit did you gasp as you could finally make out the general size of the injury.

"Tell me honestly, Denki, how are you still alive," you chuckled and shook your head in disbelief, "you fucking idiot." You began carefully disinfecting the wound, to the best of your knowledge.

When you finished with it, you looked up at him briefly, but your gaze lingered for longer than just a second. His eyes bore into you, but showed an emotion far too different from anything—reflecting the light like a pair of clean gems, and tears streaked his face. Blood trickled from his lips for biting down too hard and small sparkles of electricity popped all around him—everywhere, but you. Even when he was in pain he made sure not to accidentally hurt you.

~

You stood up and stashed the kit back into its place. After a brief looked into the mirror, you turned and glanced at Denki, looking over how out of it he seemed.

"..Come 'ere.." Denki purred with a choked back hiss and motioned with his arms towards himself. You stood still for a few moments, your vision falling out of focus—everything looked so blurry, it took you a second to realize that you were sobbing and sniffling, though very softly. The male still held his arms open and muttered quiet encouragements to you—you willed your legs to take small steps towards him, feeling as if you were dragging heavy weight. And the moment you stopped right before Denki, that foreign anger from earlier popped and you fell to your knees between his legs.

"I fucking hate you!" Tears prickled your eyes as you repeatedly hit his chest, though very weakly. "You, you.. you fucking," eventually slowing down, you finally stop and glare at Denki, as much as you could with puffy eyes, "you're an idiot.."

Denki hushed you with his thumb on your lips, holding your head to look into your eyes, "Don't cry, please.. I hate seeing you sad, love."

He pushed your face into the crook of his neck, rubbing your back in a soothing manner and whispered small praises. "You're the biggest idiot I've ever met." You mumbled against his throat and sighed.

.

I'm gonna write EraserMic later, but I just wanted to get this out since I haven't posted for over two weeks (sorry). Excuses, excuses—I have no excuses, except that I had no energy and.. yeah, basically, that's all. 😂

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

You Are More Than Enough ⚡️🧱

Alpha Kirishima x F! Beta Reader x Alpha Kaminari

Requested by @lizwello

Words: 4K

Summary: Your two alphas, Kaminari and Kirishima, ease your insecurities due to your Beta status

⚠️NSFW⚠️

(Not my art. Please credit the artist if you know their handle💕)

Biology failed you; instead of having a mouthwatering scent like an Omega or the strong presence of an Alpha, you were born a Beta. That means that you were normally the third choice for everyone (even for your fellow Betas). 

Your entire life you’ve always felt like a secondary character in the lives of your friends (which was somewhat expected but it still hurt) and even yourself. Your omega friends were being courted while your alpha friends were doing the courting. Where did that leave you? Alone. Unwanted. 

Media and schooling has a lot to do with your low self-confidence. Betas make up 90% of the population yet, alphas and omegas are the ones that get the glory. The media portrays the alpha as a possessive lover over the meek, submissive omega. The media romanticizes it so much that it becomes the ideal relationship. The media doesn’t show Betas being with omegas or alphas. No, Betas must mate with Betas. 

Sometimes, there are exceptions to everything. Alphas can be with alphas. Omegas can be with Betas. Omegas can be with Omegas (it’s rare but it has happened once before). Naturally, you expected you’d end up with another Beta. How could you not?

It makes sense; from a biological standpoint, omegas bodies and pheromones are meant for an alpha. Alphas knots are meant to be taken by an omega’s sweet body. 

Shiketsu High School was a relatively peaceful school (which was completely different from U.A. when you had been in attendance). You had graduated at the top of your class, alongside Inasa, and had been invited to join All Might’s hero agency. You supposed it was only a matter of time before pro-heroes started to approach you with job opportunities given your quirk. 

Born with the power of fear manipulation, you’d think you had a better grip of your own fears. Everyday, you went into the minds of villains and used their weaknesses against them however, you never thought about your own. You didn’t fear anything physical so, you suppose you’d call your fear mental-maybe emotional. A fear of not being good enough. 

So, when you started the job, you were fearful of what to expect. How would your co-workers treat you? Would anyone be interested in you? 

You know you may sound desperate but you can’t help it. Maybe it was the lack of experience from your youth or your pessimistic view of the world but, you wanted the same love you saw around you. After all, isn’t that what everyone wants? To feel loved? 

Your first day at All Might’s agency was something you’ll never forget. He wanted you there early so you could meet your comrades before they started their patrolling. You remember how he dwarfed you even in his skinny stature. 

“Do you have any questions?” His hand was softly ushering you into one of the debriefing rooms. “Don’t be afraid to ask. Anything to do with your quirk? Or, maybe work hours? Or-“

“Sir, I think you’re more nervous than I am,” perhaps it’s because he’s an alpha. It’s his preposition to fret about the health and comfort of others. 

“Sorry,” he laughs and rubs the back of his neck, cerulean eyes glancing down at you. “Young Midoriya always tells me I’m like a mother hen. I just want you to feel comfortable. Most of everyone that works here went to U.A. so I know you may feel singled out.” 

A silence was the only response he got; you’d be damned if you ever said anything for him or anyone else to pity you. You didn’t get to be this strong because of pity. 

“EVERYONE, GATHER AROUND. THE NEW HERO IS HERE,” everyone came rushing in with their colorful costumes on display. The pro-hero ‘Deku’ was the first to greet you in an excited frenzy. 

“Y/N, I’m Deku. Well, Izuku Midoriya but everyone calls me Deku. What’s your quirk? All Might wouldn’t tell us,” you know notice the notebook he holds in his hand. 

“Why do you need to know? You want to know my weaknesses?” You quirk your brow and feel your guard going back up. Behind you, All Might was noticing your combative attitude, noting it will definitely take a while for you to fit in. 

“Wha-no, no, no. Nothing like that. I-I just wanted to know,” he’s sputtering when a brown-haired woman comes to his side. 

“You’ll have to excuse Deku. He just gets excited about quirks. He’s documented all of ours so he can analyze them and give us suggestions to help us reach our greatest potential,” the woman smiles at the blubbering greenette. “I’m Uraraka.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Stop hogging her,” it’s like time started lagging. Your eyes fell on a blonde with a fringe, his fringe having a black light night strip. He’s lean in stature but, his eyes are the type of honey blonde that could stop anyone in their tracks (although it’s a shame he’s wearing blue tinted glasses that simmer the color). “Woah.” 

“Woah?” You cross your arms across your chest. 

“Yes, woah. You’re beautiful,” you turn bright red. “And, responsive. You smell good too.” 

The next moment he’s stuck on your neck, pulling you by the back of your head so he can expose more of your scent to his nose. Your mouth waters at how good he smells as well. 

“DENKI! You can’t go around smelling and scenting people without their permission,” from what you can see, the man admonishing the alpha on your neck has fire engine red eyes and bright red hair. You can catch glimpses of his sharp teeth when he speaks but your mind focuses on his lips. You look further down to see his torso exposed, body hard with muscle. “Woah.” 

“This is Y/N. The new hero I was telling you all about last week. Please treat her with respect and make her feel at home,” All Might was smiling down at you. 

“I’m Kirishima. The one scenting you is Kaminari,” you just nod till Kaminari is finished and let’s go. Even if it’s only for a second, Kirishima replaces Kaminari’s place on your body, fogging your mind up once again. You want to whine at the strong scents but you keep that to yourself. They’re probably just playing with you. 

“Both of you, give her some space,” All Might’s demand is enough for them to take a few steps back but, you can still smell them as if they’re still on you. “You okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine.” 

And, you were fine for a while till, you kept getting closer with the two alphas that scented you on your first day. You knew they were special. They were close, not mates but, close enough for anyone that didn’t know them to think so. You couldn’t tell what their relationship was but, they welcomed you into their duo with no questions asked, making their duo a trio. 

“She’s the one,” even without knowing you for long, Kirishima can tell you’re meant for him and Kaminari. 

“Just look at how perfect she is,” Denki fawns at you from across the room. “She doesn’t smile much. Luckily, I have so many jokes for her,” Kirishima facepalms as Kaminari gives him his signature thumbs up. 

“I have a feeling you’re going to drive her up a tree, aren’t you?” Kaminari nods. “Well, at least make sure you don’t push her too much.” 

“I won’t, scouts honor. Sooo, which one of us is going to ask her out?” Kaminari already has a few ideas of how to ask her but he doubts Kirishima will trust him with speaking to her without scenting her for the next few times he encounters her. 

“I think we both know I’ll be the one to ask her. We need to get her familiar with us before you start sending shocks up her legs,” they both smirk at the pun. 

And, so, an unlikely (in your opinion) friendship began to form between you, Kaminari, and Kirishima. Both alphas pursued you no matter how much you insisted their efforts would be appreciated somewhere else. Albeit, you did enjoy the attention they gave you. 

“Y/N, come here so we can cuddle,” you barely have any time to yourself as they both grab you and tuck you under their arm (truthfully, you don’t mind the attention). Either you sit on their lap willingly or they’ll grab you and put you there on their own accord. 

It doesn’t take much time for them to ask for your friendship to be morphed into something more. Despite your outward disparity, you’re elated when they ask you to be with them. Maybe it’s because you’re selfish and wouldn’t be able to bare them treating someone else the way they’ve treated you. 

‘Pro-Heroes ‘Chargebolt’ and ‘Red Riot’ Take New Beta Hero ‘Y/N’ As A Mate.’ The press had a field day when you first confirmed the rumors circulating about what was going on amongst the three of you. Some approved the relationship while most asked the obvious question: Why were eligible alphas such as Chargebolt and Red Riot wasting their time on a Beta? 

It just didn’t make much sense. They had the cream of the crop, omegas throwing themselves at the heroes left and right, matchmakers contacting them to find them an omega for free. Hell, some even tried to discredit them as alphas, saying they had to settle for a Beta. That type of response made you weary (well, you’d always been weary no matter how much they tried to dispel your fears).

They made sure to take you out every other day, sometimes they’d do individual dates but most of the time it was the three of you. Their embraces always made you comfortable, almost like you belonged with them. However, you still couldn’t ignore that inkling in your mind that made you doubt the likelihood of your relationship. 

Your doubts often consumed your thoughts, which pissed Kaminari and Kirishima off to no end. 

Kaminari was much more direct with his approach to your insecurities. He’d talk your ear off, send a few shocks to your core, and give you a faux innocent smile. “You’re so perfect for us, Y/N. There’s no need to be scared that you’re not enough.” 

Surprisingly, Kirishima is something else entirely in his wake to assure you. He’s dominant and domineering (which often ends up with you on your belly with your ass up as he spanks his words into your mind). It’s like night and day between the two of them. “Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you you’re meant for us? Or, maybe you like being spanked like this?” 

Eventually, you move in with them. It seemed natural at the time to be with them in that aspect so you could be with them every moment of the day. However, you still have your reservations. 

One day, you’re sitting on the couch in the living room watching some rom com when an advertisement pops on the screen. You knew you should’ve turned the channel but, you couldn’t help yourself as you felt enticed by what they were selling. 

Created specifically for Betas, a perfume that will make your scent more enticing to alphas. The perfect way to capture the attention of that special alpha you’ve been wanting. Guaranteed happiness for both you and your partner. How could you not put in an order for the scent? 

You didn’t really think it out, didn’t consider that Kaminari and Kirishima adore the way you smell. You just wanted to make them happy and you thought this was the easiest way. 

It took two long months for the perfume to be shipped out and one more month for it to be mailed to the correct address (apparently, a lot of other Betas had the same idea as yourself). The stuff was expensive, coming in at thirty-one thousand yen a bottle. 

‘This shit better work. I could’ve bought so much food with that money,’ you stare at the bottle as you contemplate whether or not you should really do it. ‘If this doesn’t work, they’ll be really pissed off.’

“Kirishima will be home early, SparkPlug. I have to stay behind for a mission. You sure you’ll be okay alone?” Kaminari had your face between his hands and your foreheads rested against one another’s. 

“Yes, Sparky. I’ll be fine. Go do your job,” you were going to enjoy this day off. You had worked double shifts the past month for this moment. 

He smirked, slowly brought your lips to his, and shocked you with his tongue, making your eyes dilate. “Be a good girl for us while we’re gone.” 

He left and you were not a good girl. You spent the whole day dousing yourself in the perfume (i.e. you literally dumped half the bottle into some bath water so it could fuse with your skin). You even bought a new babydoll negligee for when they came home. So, when Kirishima walked through the front door, you were walking around in your silk robe. 

“Kiri, babe I missed you,” you were waiting for him on the side of the door, legs exposed and your creamy skin distracting him for a few moments. 

“I-Uh missed you too, RockCandy,” he lifts you into his large arms, nuzzling your neck. He’s always called you RockCandy since he picked up the habit from Fatgum. “W-what is that smell?” Kirishima’s nose twitched at the obnoxious sweet scent that seemed to ooze out of your pores. 

“It’s a new perfume. How does it smell?” You were optimistic that he’d like it. That would mean that Kaminari would enjoy it too. And, that would mean that you could finally please them. 

“Sweetheart, honey, baby, love-“ 

“Just spit it out.” 

“I hate it,” Kirishima rubs your back to comfort you. 

“Oh,” you rest your head on his shoulder, wanting to cry. “Well, I’ll go take a shower.” 

You walk off before he can stop you, storming to the bathroom where the first thing you did was throw that stupid fucking bottle of lousy perfume in the small trash can near your bed. 

You’re pretty sure you heard the negligee rip a bit with how hard you pulled it off of your body and hopped into the shower. 

You’re crying out of frustration. Why did you think that was going to work? Were you really that desperate with changing yourself that you really did that? Who in their right mind does-

“Beta, what is this?” 

Huh? 

“What the fuck is this?” You peep your head from behind the curtain to see Kirishima holding the scent change bottle. 

“Uh it-it’s...y-you know! It’s on the damn bottle Kiri!” He grabs your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks together. 

“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima’s face was close, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Are you challenging me, baby?” 

“Nooooo, no. Definitely not trying to challenge you at all. I’m just frustrated,” you pout. 

“That pout isn’t gonna help you. You think it’s okay to cuss at me just because you're frustrated?” You shake your head. “You think it’s okay to change yourself?” 

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, you can deny it but he’s seen the proof. On the other hand, you can come clean however, you doubt that you’ll get away with this unscathed. What to do?

“I just wanted to be better for the both of you. I know that I don’t smell the best and I know that you both could’ve done better,” you sniffle. 

“Y/N, get your ass in that shower and wash that shit off. I wanna smell what’s mine. Better hurry. Kaminari is on his way home,” you jump to action. You’re scrubbing your body with a loofa (it’s most likely one of your alphas). Apparently, he’s not gonna give you any sympathy. 

Kirishima sits on the toilet beside the shower, watching you like a hawk. Whenever you scrub between your legs, he licks his lips and his sharp teeth are exposed. He notices you staring at them and runs his teeth along the top. 

You want to draw the shower out but, you know Kirishima will pull you out once he knows that you are milking it. Plus, you want to get out before Kaminari gets home. 

You step out into the cold air and you’re wrapped in a towel by Kiri. His arms keep you caged against his broad chest, making you melt at the contact. The towel is the only thing separating him from seeing your naked body. 

“Kiri, I’ve got to get dressed.” 

“No, you get on the bed and take that towel off. I want you on your back with your legs spread, pussy open for me to eat. I’m sure Kaminari would love that too,” he pushes you forward, spanking your ass before you're completely away from his touch. 

So, yeah that’s how you ended up in that position, waiting for Kaminari to get home while Kirishima was leaving bite marks on your inner thighs. You grip the sheets while your face contorts with pleasure, his mouth dangerously close to the place you need him most but still denying you the pleasure you want. 

“Ohhh, Sparkplug, you couldn’t wait for me to get home?” You didn’t even hear the front door open as Kaminari came home. He sniffed as he crossed the threshold, something disgusting in the air, but he quickly tossed that aside when he heard your moans. 

Just imagine how good it felt for him to see you on your shared bed, pussy glistening with juices that he knows will soon be his meal, nipples pointing to the sky, face so beautiful and pleasured. 

“Kami, guess what our little girl did this time?” You tense a bit. 

“Must have been something good for this type of treatment,” Kaminari shed his clothes as he stepped further into the room, clothes beneath him as he settled next to Kirishima, spreading your legs even further to accommodate both of them. 

“Quite the opposite. This one decided to change her scent. Fucking nasty. Smelled nothing like her. She tried to change what we like,” and suddenly you're looking into the eyes of two alphas that are ready to punish their mate. 

“Did she?” 

“I’m sure you smelled it.”

“I did but, I assumed I was just smelling something wrong,” Kaminari drags his pinky against your clit, a small shock making you cry out. 

“Daddy, pleaseee,” drool is pooling a bit on the side of your mouth. 

“You’re not in any position to ask anything. Now, shush, the alphas are speaking,” you’re flooding the sheets with arousal, wetness slipping down the crack of your ass. “What do you think we should do to her?”

“I say we eat first then fuck her so hard she can’t question anything,” Kirishima has a dark small on his face. “She needs some good ole’ DP therapy.” 

“I was just thinking the same thing,” they both flatten their tongue and lick on your outer lips at the same time, holding one of your legs on each of their shoulders for some stability. Kaminari’s tongue stiffens to push into your weeping hole while Kirishima nibbles softly on your clit. Their saliva makes you wetter than you already were. 

Both groan at the taste of you when they first make contact. Your sweet tang is something neither of them will ever tire of. Both of them hold your legs open as they feast, your juices rushing down their chins as you can feel some of your essence squirt when the pleasure keeps building up. It was hard enough trying not to cum since you didn’t have permission but it seemed like they didn’t care as they didn’t even slow down. They licked up your juice, Kaminari sucking on your clit while Kirishima speared his tongue into your hole, hardening his tongue when he got far enough to touch that special spot within you.

Your legs are shaking, your vision dotted black as they draw away from you, making you think that maybe they will have mercy on you. Not even close. Kaminari laid down on the bed, your juices against his back as Kirishima settled your core over his mouth, essentially putting you in a position to ride Kaminari’s face. His tongue continued its work as Kirishma pushed you over a bit, exposing your backhole to him. He licked his lips with anticipation, thinking about the last time you allowed him to do this. 

‘It’s been too long,’ Kirishima thinks to himself as he starts to slowly prod at your asshole with his tongue, his hands spreading your ass so he can push his tongue in further. At the same time, Kaminari sent a spark on your clit, the feeling making you clench your toes as you rocked back onto Kirishima’s tongue. 

“Pleaseeee, don’t wanna wait any longer. Please, fuck me,” Kirishima laughed at your begging. “Kiri, pleasee.”

“What’s my name?” Kirishima leaned over to the nightstand beside the bed to pull out some lube, squirting some onto his cock and onto your hole. He knew he would have to prep you, so he slipped one finger into your hole, meeting little resistance. Another two were pushed in and you squealed as you felt his fingers stretch you further. “You’re crying already, baby? I haven’t even got myself in you yet.” 

“Daddy, please,” your throat was feeling raw from all the crying you were doing.

“Want your daddies to fuck your slutty holes?” you nodded fervently. “I need vocal confirmation.”

“Fuck your slutty holes! Aghh fuck yes please,” that was enough confimation for Kaminari to slide you down his body, stuffing you full of his cock with no warning, You groaned as you felt Kirishima withdraw his fingers and replace them with his girthy cock, pushing into you inch by inch. You were now panting like a bitch in heat as Kaminari pumped into you, his cock bumping into Kirishima’s within you. 

“Fuck, I can feel you bro,” Kaminari didn’t slow down as he kissed your neck and fucked into you. He groaned as Kirishima started to move, pushing in whenever he pulled out. They were working in synchrony. 

“Bro, look at our baby. No omega could ever take our knots like this. Isn’t that right?” Kaminari held your throat in his hands, cock pumping your pussy from beneath you. 

“So fucking tight baby. Doing a good job for your alphas,” you lean down to kiss him, whining into his mouth as Kirishima spreads your ass to spear his cock into your ass at a deeper angle. Every stroke hits your walls from both holes, making your legs shake at the intensity. 

You scream as you feel another orgasm attacking you, its ferocity ripping you apart as you could do nothing but lay there and cry on your alphas cocks. All the sensations were becoming too much as you tried to squirm away, making both alphas grip onto you. 

“Don’t fucking run,” Kaminari growled into your ear.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re gonna lay here and take what we fucking give you,” Kirishima breathed into your ear as he leaned over your body, his sweaty chest on your sweaty back. True to his word, they continued to fuck you through your orgasms, calling you their perfect little slut. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” Kaminari was the first to cum in your pussy, making a delicious creamipe from Kirishima’s view. He reached down to your clit, stroking it hard as he groaned. 

“One last time baby. I know you can uhahhh fuck fuck yes there ya go baby. All over daddy's cock,” you came over both of them, Kirishima erupting in your ass as he laid down on your back, squishing you between them as their cocks kept their cum in you. 

“Don’t ever think you aren’t enough for us. You’ll always be more than enough.” 

[slippinmickeys]

The Annapolis Grant, part 2/?

He was, frankly, shocked when he saw the client. He was used to older women -- women who'd been divorced, widowed. Women who needed company. About half the clients he went out with didn't even want sex -- they just wanted someone to talk to, someone who'd pay attention to them and treat them with kindness and make them feel pretty, looked after, wanted. For men, escorts were about sex. For women, it was about companionship. He supposed beautiful women needed companionship too, but… He’d never had a client who looked like this. She was young. She was stunning. He wouldn't have been surprised to find her likeness carved in marble at the Smithsonian. She had flowing auburn locks and alabaster skin awash with the lightest freckles. And her eyes. Her eyes were a cobalt blue that could make you forget what you were going to say. This was going to make for an interesting job.

“Hi,” he said, his voice coming out more lively than he’d planned, “are you Dana?”

“No,” the woman said, then shook her head. “I mean yes,” she said. He smiled at her — he was used to women being nervous when employing him for the first time, and he found excessive friendliness generally put them at ease. He grabbed the back of the chair opposite her and asked if he could sit. When she nodded, he sat down and immediately shook out the cloth napkin on the table in front of him, draping it across his lap. Then he reached out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dana.”

She tentatively reached out and took his proffered hand, her own hand small, but her grip firm.

“What’s your name?” she asked him, the lashes framing her eyes thick as a field of wheat.

He cleared his throat. This woman was making it difficult to think. “What do you want my name to be?” he said, not realizing that it sounded like a creepy pick-up line until the words were out of his mouth.

“This isn’t going to work-“ she started, pushing her chair back from the table. He held out a conciliatory hand, feeling terrible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely. “That wasn’t a come-on. Melvin explained to me your situation. I wondered if you’d given this guy your fiancé’s name? I know I’m playing a part here, I’m just trying to figure out what the part is.”

“Oh.” She said, looking unsure.

He leaned back in his chair and put both hands on the table.

“Let’s start again,” he said, “Dana, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Fox Mulder. You don’t have to tell me that it sounds like a stripper name.” He saw a corner of her mouth quirk up. “If you’d prefer, you can call me Mulder.”

She nodded slowly, her lips still slightly upturned. She reached out a hand once again.

"It's nice to meet you, Mulder."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So, how does this work?" she asked.

"You tell me how it works," he said. He was wearing glasses, and she could just make out flecks of gold on his mossy irises through the lens. "I'm at your disposal. Whatever you need… I’m at your beck and call."

"Like Pretty Woman?" she asked.

He chuffed a laugh.

"If you like." He looked over the rim of his spectacles, assessing her for a moment. "Dana, you run the show, here. You're spending a lot of money, and I'll be and do whatever you need."

It felt odd somehow to hear her first name from him.

"Call me... call me Scully. To your Mulder." She knew it was a distancing tactic psychologically, but it made her feel better about what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

"I can do that."

She looked at him a moment with her lips pursed and then all at once, she told him her story in a torrent of words -- her lab, the Annapolis Grant, McKay and his reputation, her spur of the moment white lie about having a fiance, and the domino effect it had had on her life lately. He listened attentively, nodding, his hands on the table in front of himself, his fingertips laced together. He sort of reminded her of a therapist, though she supposed what he did was a kind of therapy. In any event, she felt like she'd exhaled a too-long-held breath, and leaned back in her chair after she was done talking, relieved of a burden.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah," hearty agreement. She took a breath and leaned forward again, assessing him. She may as well be upfront. "Do you think you can play the part? We'll be running in elite circles... I'll be frank with you -- this whole bonkers idea makes me nervous. Do you think you have the required etiquette to pull this off? I need the Annapolis Grant. Badly. But I'm staking my entire reputation -- personal and professional -- on this. And if there's even a chance..." She fumbled for a moment, a million thoughts running through her head. She had a nightmare picture of him sitting next to her at dinner with McKay, spouting nonsense and being handsy. "I've looked at your medical records and drug tests... I'm not interested in sex," Dana, stop talking! she thought and then plowed ahead. "But you seem clean and polite and... oh God, what am I even trying to say?" She felt flustered and flush (why the hell had she brought up sex?!), and his calm, intense gaze wasn't helping.

He unlaced his fingers.

"In the course of my... work," he said, his voice even and gentle, "I've attended State Dinners and Kennedy Center Honors. I've been at tables with Senators, Congressman. I can be who you need me to be. I can do what you need me to do." She felt tension drain out of her shoulders. "I guess the real question is... can you?" There it was. The real crux of the issue in this madcap scheme. Then, his voice a honeyed rumble, "I can be the person you need me to be with you. Do you think you can be it with me?"

"Yes," she said, the word out of her mouth before she could think it. She felt a steely resolve. "I think I can."

He reached across the table and took her hand, running his thumb over the skin of her wrist.

"Then you've got yourself a fiance. Let's say we go get you a grant."

XxXxXxXxXxX

They had discussed logistics but not minutiae, though they had a five hour flight ahead of them, and she supposed they could tackle it mid-air. She fluffed out her hair and checked her reflection in the passenger-side visor for the fifth time in 20 minutes.

"You need to relax, Dana," Missy said as she flipped the signal for the exit to Reagan National, "if you're going to be this nudgy the entire trip, you should call it off."

"It's just nerves," Scully said, irritation creeping into her voice, flipping the visor back up with a whack.

Missy gave her a side eye and then proceeded to merge toward Departures. "Maybe you should avail yourself of this guy's services right off the bat," she said cheekily.

"I'm not sleeping with him!" Scully didn't know why she was being so defensive.

"Why not, you’re paying for it,” Missy said, smiling, “Anyway, orgasms are good for 'nerves.'"

"Stop."

"I'm just saying, get your money's worth."

"Missy!"

Melissa pulled her car up to the curb, and threw it in park. She turned to Scully.

"It's going to be fine, Dana. One week. From everything you said, this guy has impeccable manners and is fairly intelligent. Just relax about it, okay? Enjoy yourself-"

"Missy-"

"Not like that. Just... try to have a good time? You're going to be on a megayacht for God's sake. Revel a little."

Scully let out a slow breath. "Okay," she said.

Melissa smiled at her reassuringly and popped the trunk.

"Is he meeting you here?" Missy asked.

Scully looked at the window at the various people milling about the sidewalk and skycap.

"Yes," she said absently, scanning the crowd for him.

"Is he cute?"

"Yes," she said, before she realized what her sister was asking. Missy laughed and got out of the car. Scully was just reaching for her own door handle, when the door opened on its own.

Standing there with a smile was Mulder, his hair a glinting chocolate in the hot Virginia sunshine. He was dressed in a tan linen suit, the white shirt underneath buttoned casually. He was wearing glasses and had a large, expensive-looking garment bag looped over his shoulder.

"Scully," he said, holding out his hand to help her from the car. When she stood, she saw her sister standing at the rear of the car watching them, her mouth slightly open, not quite gaping.

"Oh," Mulder said, noticing her by the trunk, "let me get that."

He moved quickly to the trunk and pulled out Scully's suitcase, which he extended the handle of, setting it on the ground. While he was doing this, Melissa connected eyes with Scully, mouthed oh my god! and fanned herself. Scully could feel her face go crimson.

Mulder closed the trunk with a thud.

"Hi," he said to Melissa, holding out his hand, "I'm Mulder."

Missy extended her hand slowly.

"I'm Melissa, Dana's sister," she said, shaking it once, "it's a real pleasure."

"Pleasure is all mine," Mulder said, then looked to Scully expectantly. "You ready to get checked in?" Scully nodded and reached for her suitcase. “I got it,” he said with a smile.

Scully gave him a tight smile back and then waved once to Melissa, turning on her heel toward the airport doors. She could feel Missy's eyes on her, and then felt Mulder's hand come to rest gently on the small of her back, leading her forward into the unknown.

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2

(Or as this series is becoming: Bruce Looking After His Kids at Fancy Parties)

Part 1

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out what he should be doing with his hands, or how to stand. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, though there’s no destination for him that’s that much better than where he’s already been. The various corners of the crowd all feel more or less the same, all absurd, all suffocating.

The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them.

Jason freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking.

“Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s new pet project-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to. Jason’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle.

He reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

“You will never put your hands on my child again.”

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?”

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” The man who interrupts is in the minority, in that he has not had the good sense to pretend not to be paying attention to the whole scene.

Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man and the woman.

“So you did touch him.”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t like to be touched, knows that he can have something like a fear response to it, if it comes unexpectedly. And there are very few things that he hates more than his kids being scared. But he also knows better than to publicly chastise socialites specifically for scaring him, knows better than to bring his fear to people’s attention.

“This is ridiculous,” she says.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks.

He looks around. First at Jason, taking stock of him, making sure he’s all right. Then to what remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman was, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are easy to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason.

“You okay?”

He nods at first, then shrugs. He’s not sure if he wishes that things didn’t bother him as much, or just that people would quit doing the things that do bother him. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m never going to be good at this.” It isn’t an apology, or an admission of guilt, more like he’s daring Bruce to tell him that he needs to be.

Bruce makes a sweeping gesture around them.

“You’re clearly not the only one.”

An amused little half smile quirks onto Jason’s face, and Bruce revels in it.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason really does. But he still hesitates.

“I’m not sure if I can remember how to get back.” He’s still not that familiar with this part of the city.

“What?” Bruce looks genuinely confused. “No. Jason, I’m going to take you home.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, if you want to.”

Bruce smiles at his feigned nonchalance.

“Do you have a jacket?”

Jason tugs at the fabric of his suit coat.

“Is this not a jacket?”

“I suppose it is. It’s chilly out though.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Like Dick didn’t run around in his underwear twelve months out of the year.”

Bruce lowers his voice slightly.

“Yes but not for lack of me trying to get him to put pants on.” His tone is unnecessarily serious.

Jason wants to laugh. Instead he rolls his eyes again.

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

There are things that Bruce did with Dick that he learned quickly not to do with Jason, patting him on the back, ruffling his hair, putting a hand on his arm. But when Jason takes the initiative to reach out, he never pulls away. He takes the middle seat in the taxi, putting him immediately next to Bruce, their arms pressed directly against each other. Bruce delights in his son’s closeness.

---

Bruce’s “outburst” is all over the news for the next week. Alfred buys a copy of the first tabloid to print a headline about it, and hangs it on the refrigerator.

Jason isn’t sure why, the whole thing was awful and embarrassing, but he find himself smiling whenever he glances up at it.

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #1 - Back to the Beginning

Word Count: 1644

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Intoxicated Automobile Accident, Steve Being a Slight Puppy

Setting/Characters: Directly after Captain America: The First Avenger, New York City; Reader, Director Nicholas Fury, Captain Steven Rogers

A/N: Here it is! The first One Shot that goes along with my FATWS Series! Keep in mind; it doesn’t take place during FATWS. There are NO SPOILERS in this and there will be NO SPOILERS in any of the One Shots. I do recommend still reading the Series, though, to understand the Reader more. These are more like…prequels to the Series. And it won’t be a series. It’ll just be a collection of One Shots based on what I think is important and what you guys wanna see. I also WON’T BE DOING A TAGLIST FOR ONE SHOTS! (Only those in my All Works Taglist will be tagged!) I’ll be adding them to my FATWS Series Masterlist under a ‘One Shot’ section, so you’ll be able to find them there, and I’ll also be tagging them with #fatws series oneshots. Feel free to send in requests for what you wanna see. I’ve gotten a few already, so I’ll be writing those tomorrow. I’ll say that they’ll all be shorter like this one, but...knowing me...we’ll see.

(Also, I’m aware of the theories that SHIELD chose the woman because the resemblance to Peggy, but just ignore that for this.)

As always, not beta’d so please excuse mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and each other! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You knew. You knew the moment his eyes raked over your form. You knew when he looked over his shoulder at the radio playing some baseball game from 1941. You had done your homework, just like you did with every mission you worked. Granted, this one was a little different, but when Fury called you in personally, you couldn’t say no. You told them your uniform was wrong. You told them the game was too close to when he went under. You told them.

So you weren’t surprised in the least when he smashed through the wall, running out of the room. You didn’t necessarily regret pushing the button; you did it because you knew your cover had been blown, not because you were threatened. But you regretted calling out Code 13, not realizing that they’d chase him out into the middle of Times Square of all places.

Before you could head outside, wanting to know what happened, Fury’s name flashed across your vibrating phone.

“Y/L/N.”

“We’re heading back.”

An eyebrow raised, showing your confusion. “That was quick.”

“He’s fine, if you’re insinuating what I think you are.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, sir.” It was a lie, of course. You wouldn’t put it past Fury to slow down the Captain anyway he could, especially if the Man Out of Time was putting up a fight. “Sir, with all due respect, I tried-”

“I know, Agent. When We get back, we’ll set up in Conference Room C. I want you to join us.”

Your eyes narrowed, free hand on your hip. “You only called me in to ease him into this whole new century thing-”

“And he’s not eased.”

“It’s not my fault, Fury. I told your guys that it was wrong-”

“I know, Agent. Introducing him to the new century obviously went less smoothly than we anticipated.”

“Ya think?”

“Conference Room-”

“C. I heard you the first time. I’ll be there. Give me a few minutes.” He hung up without any farewells, making you roll your eyes. The director had pulled you off an assignment - in the middle of it - and promised you could get back to it once you finished helping him with the Star Spangled Man problem; help Captain Rogers integrate into the new times. But it was starting to seem that Fury didn’t just mean when he woke up.

You quickly changed, switching the old fashioned uniform for the tighter SHIELD-assigned one, before heading up to the level with all the conference rooms. You understood doing this in New York instead of the HQ in DC - the captain was from New York and, as much as it changed, some things would be familiar - and you definitely understood not doing this on the Helicarrier since Rogers didn’t even know about smartphones yet. And you definitely weren’t complaining; you had an apartment here in the City that you hadn’t slept in for months now.

Glancing at the room plaques, you paused in front of ‘C’. You took a couple breaths, relaxing yourself just as you did before any mission, before opening the door and stepping in.

Fury and Rogers were sitting at the table on opposite ends, the blonde looking around warily, eyeing the few agents lining the walls. You shot Fury a look, disapproving of the firepower in the room.

“Captain. Director.” You nodded to them in greeting.

Roger’s eyes snapped towards you, recognition lighting up his features. “You-”

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Sorry about the act.”

He nodded hesitantly, watching you as you sat down a couple seats from Fury. “I have some other business to attend to, so I’ll make this quick. To help you adjust, it’s been decided to assign an agent to help you for the next few months. Agent Y/L/N, here, will take that position.”

You blinked, turning to Fury, not expecting that. “What?”

Fury ignored you, standing up and setting down a file on the table in front of you when he passed. “The file has what you need to explain to him. Start now.”

“Fury.” You snapped, eyebrows furrowing as you stared at the file. Looking back as the door opened, you scrambled to stand when you realized he was leaving. “Fury! Excuse me.” You pardoned yourself from the captain, chasing after the director without waiting for his reaction. “Nicholas!”

That got his attention, his stride pausing. He spun on his heel, an eyebrow quirked. “Agent-”

“You didn’t mention anything about months helping him. I thought you meant, at most, a week!”

He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “You’re the first person he saw when he woke up. You’re the best option.”

“First off,” you mimicked his position, popping your hip for good measure. “Even though I was the first person he saw, I deceived him. Why would he trust me? Second, why me? I understand having me for the little show you put on. I get that. But me? Of all people? You know I don’t do personal stuff.”

Fury narrowed his eyes. “You’re on this, and that’s final. He needs to know politics and technology. Settle him into the apartment in the file.”

You gaped as he turned around and started towards the elevators at the end of the hallway. “What about-?!”

“Your mission is being taken care of!” He called over his shoulder. “Politics and technology!”

You huffed, stomping your foot, frustrated, well aware of the fact that you were throwing a mini tantrum. You worked behind the scenes, acting as someone other than yourself. You didn’t help 93 year old super soldiers settle into new houses, teach them about current politics, and explain what cell phones were.

Walking back into the conference room, you found it empty besides Rogers, who was looking through the file, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Sorry about that.” You apologized, moving around the table to plop into the seat next to him.

He gave a half hearted shrug, glancing over at you. “It’s okay. He didn’t tell you the plan. I don’t blame you for being annoyed.”

“Yeah…it’s nothing personal. I’m not annoyed at you, and it’s not because of you. It’s just-”

“You don’t do personal stuff.” At your quirked eyebrow, he tapped his ear. “I could hear you.”

You cleared your throat, feeling slightly embarrassed at being heard. “Oh. Right. Enhanced hearing. Um, so, I guess you’re already starting without me.”

The tips of his ears turned red as you gestured to the file he was scanning. He dropped it, moving it over to you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “It’s your schooling. However you wanna do this, whatever pace you want, we’ll do that. Fury just wants you to know-”

“Politics and technology.” He shot you a small smirk. “I heard that too.”

You chuckled a bit, nodding. “Right. Okay. Let’s see here. Nickie said there was an apartment they got you…”

“Page six.” He informed you as you flipped through the pages.

You hummed, looking at the small apartment, perfect size for one person, right here in Manhattan…in the same building as yours, you noted. “Of course.” You rolled your eyes. You’d basically be his babysitter, and you knew neither of you wanted that.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “This is my building.”

He blinked, looking down at the picture of the apartment. “Oh. Well, if you want I can request a change-”

“No, no. It’s fine. I just - I wish Fury told me.”

“Can-can I ask you a personal question?”

You shrugged, thumbing through the rest of the file. They basically wanted you to give him a government lesson starting with the fifties and then go over military technological advancements - a lot of Stark Industries stuff. “You might as well. We’re gonna be spending quite a bit of time together.”

“Why don’t you do personal?” You stopped your reading, tapping a finger on the table as you chewed on your cheek. “Sorry. You don’t hafta share if it’s too personal. I get it. I was never really into sharing my emotions, either.”

Turning your head to him, your lips pursed thoughtfully. His head was ducked, his blonde hair previously parted and styled was falling into his eyes, which were trained on his linked hands in his lap. His forehead was still creased, but it was more contemplative than confused as it was previously. 

“I specialize in undercover operations.” Ignoring the way he whipped his head to you, slight surprise in those blues that you were answering his question, your head dropped back to the files, trying to act nonchalantly. “Before that I grew up in foster homes. My parents died when I was little. Drunk driver. No one survived. I was…two. I think. Maybe three. I learned to keep my head down to stay out of trouble; be the kid whoever had me wanted me to be. Anyways, I’m used to playing other people. I’m not really used to being myself.”

The room was blanketed with a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, either, but it was welcomed as Rogers processed what you had just told him. His voice was quiet, almost shy, when he spoke up. “You can be yourself with me…if you want.”

You looked over at him again, your lips turning up slightly as you met his sincere gaze. “Thanks. You can be yourself with me too, Captain Rogers.”

“Let’s start with you calling me Steve, Agent Y/L/N.”

Your features broke into a bigger grin as you nodded, accepting his terms. “Alright, Steve. I don’t really have a preference. Just don’t call me Agent. I get flashbacks to every conversation with Fury.”

Steve laughed and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his eyes shut, his nose scrunching up. “Alright.” He agreed with a beam. “I think I can avoid that, honey.”

All Works Taglist:

@happygoreading​

@bibliophilewednesday​

[sugiwa]

small dreams

It took one 27 second long video for Keigo to fall in love

The video looped through every news cycle, and each reaction varied from outright derision to almost mythical awe emerging. On YouTube, it was viral in fifty-three different countries and Starburst—a name derived from a candy company that the pro-hero was fond of—jokingly tweeted that she was more famous than All-Might.

And she might have been thanks to the reporter that not only caught her decking the father of a girl she just saved but also recorded the subsequent twenty-seven seconds it took for three police officers to pull her off him and pull her away. The peace sign Y/N threw up as the police led her into a car probably didn’t help, nor did the live stream of her twenty-four hours in a holding cell while they investigated her claim of the man’s abuse and finally released her.

Though there were news outlets that tried to pin Starburst down as a hero on the edge of villainy, her public reputation hadn’t taken any damage. It was hard, after all, to claim that she did the wrong thing when they heard the girl’s testimony and pulled her medical records. But, Starburst—or L/N Y/N—still faced punishment from the Hero Public Safety Commission despite all this.

Attacking an unarmed civilian was apparently a big no-no—even if he was an abusive asshole. She was spared having her license revoked until she retested the simple principle that she had refrained from using her quirk. Her sentence was lessened to a month-long suspension with a strict patrol schedule in some city near Tokyo.

Y/N could work with it. She could put up with the Commission’s inane chatter for the sake of her job, but she drew the line at issuing an apology. It took three hours to wiggle her way out of a press conference to address the event. By the time her meeting with the Commission and sentencing was done, Y/N retweeted the initial video with the caption: Totally worth it.

Keigo was slightly in love with Starburst. Maybe it was the way she strolled into the Hero Public Safety Commission building fresh out of handcuffs and bluntly told them that she wasn’t apologizing and would rather become a vigilante than listen to ten more minutes of them debating the future of her career.

Or maybe it was the video which he’d seen a hundred times over, where she looked like a hero. The kind he’d always dreamed of as a kid, the kind who swooped in and beat the bad guy and then offered you stickers and candy and told you everything would be alright because it was exactly what she’d done for that little girl.

Either way, L/N Y/N was a hero who deserved a little rest, which was why he was currently tailing her patrol route and taking care of the problems before she could move. Her quirk was right out of a comic book too. The golden energy that left her capable of issuing an instant KO.

“Will you leave me alone?” she snapped, finally turning around to glare at him. She had a warm face, not made for anger which was probably why the glare fell away a moment later, replaced by a smile. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not offering any fanservice in exchange.”

“Who said I was a fan?” His wings flapped, feathers flying back toward him.

“You regularly stalk girls mid-air? That sort of thing does not fly with me.” Y/N laughed, nose scrunching at her own joke. “Get it…cause we both fly….”

He smiled innocently, “Thought of that all on your own?”

Y/N groaned, twisting her earring, “Just because I didn’t go to a fancy-ass hero school like Wet Jeanist and Flameo Hotman doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Slight insulted by the nickname she gave his favorite hero, he asked, “Flameo Hotman? You mean Endeavor-san?”

“Ohhh, that’s a man-crush voice.” Her eyes tightened with mischief, “I’m gonna have to dip since I got a hot date with my credit card. See you later, Chicken Little.”

He watched her go in slight awe because Y/N really was as crazy as the stories said. Starburst was a hero that had a bit of a cult following. She wasn’t high enough in the rankings to be wildly popular the way he was—up until she went viral, that was. A graduate of Ketsubutsu who went on to attend college before actually becoming a hero, she was on a watch list with the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Apparently, non-conformity was an issue…who knew.

A rain of confetti fell over Keigo’s head, brightly colored and all covered in specks of glitter. He inhaled deeply, turning to see Starburst’s grinning face as she eagerly clapped. Endeavor, like always whenever he was forced to be in Starburst’s proximity, turned around and stalked down the hall. Her confetti burned in his wake. Y/N’s voice followed him, offering an empty congratulations to the hero.

“How’s my precious senpai doing?” she asked, turning her attention to him.

“You really know how to annoy him, huh?” asked Keigo staring at the empty hall. If you gave Y/N too much attention, she ran with it. “What’s the deal?”

Y/N shrugged, rolling her shoulders confidently, “Some people are not equipped to handle true talent.”

“Yeah, right,” snorted Keigo.

“I may or may not have drunkenly confessed that I had no idea who he was to a bunch of reporters during last week.” Y/N made a rude gesture with her hand. “I mean, if you’re not Number One, then do you really matter?”

“Harsh,” he ruffled his wings, freeing the last of her glitter confetti and letting it rain on the ground. “You all good with the Commission now?”

“All thanks to you! I owe you one, you know that?”

“Nah,” Keigo waved her off, resisting the urge to laugh as she made her bright eyes as wide as possible. “It was pretty brave of you. Plus, I think anyone would have done the same thing.”

Three months out of trouble, Y/N once again made headlines for ‘accidentally’ dropping a child trafficker off a building. She caught him before he hit the ground, but apparently, the authorities deemed the emotional damage a little extreme.

“They probably would have been a bit smarter about it, though.”

“Well, don’t worry, no one expects you to be the brains.”

Y/N pouted. “True.”

Keigo laughed. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not in the top ten.”

“Is bullying the new rage these days?” Her pout grew, arms crossing over her chest, “Everyone’s got something snippy to say to me. Where’s Rumi when I need her?”

“Gonna hide behind her?”

“Fuck yeah.” Y/N nodded emphatically as she reached into her pocket for a pack of gum. She offered him a piece. “Let’s see how your chicken wings stand against her legs.”

Keigo looked at the gum and then her. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Wanna get something to eat?”

Her smile looked like the sun, “Thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dragonbreath?” asked Y/N, sprawling across his couch. It was the third time this week she was here. He should tell her to leave, but the words die in his throat in his mouth every time he tried.

There’s too much risk. Dabi’s listening in on everything he does these days, and he doesn’t want her anywhere near them. Not when he’s aware of what they’re planning. Not when he knows how Y/N would react.

She was rough and improper in everything she does, but there’s no one brighter or better when it came to genuine goodness.

Keigo dodged the question with his own. “Endeavor again?”

“Ran into him last week and got yelled at for ten minutes for getting in his way. The guy was in my path, and I’m the one getting yelled at? Next time, I’m drop-kicking him off his skyscraper.” She kicked her leg in the air, reminding him that she was scarcely dressed.

Was this what having a girlfriend like? Constantly jumping between fondness and horniness? He wasn’t complaining.

He heard this threat a million times. “Still mad about the fact that he has one?”

“I’m a simple country girl. I’d be happy with a peach orchard and some chickens.”

“Come here,” he crooked his finger at her. Y/N got up instantly, crossing the room toward the balcony where he stood. Her hands wrapped around his waist, slipping under his shirt, across his skin, over his chest. Too much and too little at the same time.

“You’ll get cold out here,” she murmured. He could sink in the warmth she offered.

“It’s nice seeing the world so still.”

A noise left her throat, wet and worried, “Hawks, whatever it is, whatever they’re making you do, I’ll be here. I promise.”

People joked about Y/N being dumb—he did it too often to count, but she saw more than most people did when it mattered.

“Why’d you become a hero?”

“Saved a cute boy once, and he gave me a kiss,” she said. He’d heard that story before. She offered it in every interview, never expanding on what boy or how she saved him. It was also a glaring lie.

He didn’t push her. He lied about too many things to count.

Keigo took her face between his hands—the urge to kiss that tiny speck by her eyes thrummed through him. It would take a thousand-thousand years for him to forget her face. Y/N turned, her lips skimming his palm, cold and warm at once.

He loved her because she was Y/N. Because in her, he could love himself and not grow cold from it. Because the numbness he’d always known leaked out in place of affection. He loved her boundlessly—above, below, and across—unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.

It was with her that he was Takami Keigo and not the current Number Two.

His hand cupped her neck, fingers tangling in the curls of her hair. Her lips opened under his. A trail of fire burst across his lips, and for a moment, he only knew the sweetness of her mouth. He drank her in, each breath, each hushed sound leaving her throat.

He would do what they asked and make the choices no one else could.

It was worth the world he dreamed of.

[soulwillower]

friendly neighborhood spiderman • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: soooo my idea was an e2l spiderman richie x reader. they hate each other at school, but one day while patrolling he sees her with her friends outside and watched her and is like ‘shit maybe she’s not so bad’. then proceeds to be mean to her at school anyways. then a few days later he sees her crying her e yea a out and talks to her as spidey, consoles her, start liking each other. and then at school he’s a jerk and she’s like I can’t take ur shit. make up. friends. lovers. photographer reader.   +    ok so I was thinking maybe her parents are divorced and it’s smth abt how both parents tell her totally different stories abt the divorce. like the mom says we never loved each other, it was arranged marriage, but he abused me and cheated on me. and the dad says she was a psycho always stealing my stuff and bitching at me. we thought shE had schizophrenia. both her parents are ok to her so she gets fed up and leaves home crying. Goes to rooftop sees Spider-Man AND BOOM LOVE. self indulgencE here

warnings: enemies to lovers (my specialty), mentions of a rough divorce, a bit of violence, spiderman!au, slight blood, unedited, she/they pronouns for reader

[losers + reader are 18.]

6.4k words

♡

you're convinced it started when you missed the subway. 

that was the butterfly flapping it's wings; then the chaos of the rest of the day just happened to fall in place because some sadistic twist of fate said it so, and now you're rolling your eyes at your friend in the hallway, backpack loose on your right shoulder with a budding black eye that was throbbing with the pain of a hundred suns. 

you'd snuck up on your classmate in the dark room (first mistake) and then tried to scare him (second), resulting in a metal water bottle to the face. "well if you just ice it, i'm sure the swelling and the pain will go away..." your friend trails off as you sigh, nodding in agreement. "i'm so embarrassed, i'm just hoping it doesn't bruise." 

"-y/n, what's up with you? wh- oh." your other friend says as they join you, eyes landing on your swollen cheek. 

it was this moment that richie tozier, certified asshole, walks near with three of his friends. richie, the bane of your existence. also, the boy whose locker is four away from yours. sensing your fatal hesitance, richie grins, "y/n's still upset because someone dropped a house on their sister." he making everyone snicker. you glare at the ground. 

you don't want him to see your face; any kind of ammo would be enough for richie to take and go miles with, and you're not in the mood for one of your typical screaming matches, as much as the others at this school love to watch. 

"woah, y/l/n, who gave you the shiner?" he asks as he twists his fingers around his locker combination. 

"why? you trying to match?" you threaten, and richie just smiles. he's laughing into his open locker as you roll your eyes, your friends peeling away eventually as you start to search through your locker. 

"so," richie starts just as you thought the silence would stay until you could flee. you groan, leaning your head on the locker as he continues, "did flash finally figure out who's been saran-wrapping his car?" 

you narrow your eyes, "how'd you know that was me?" you ask, certain that nobody had seen you besides three of your friends. it's doubtful they'd tell richie. 

his face pales slightly and a rosy blush blossoms on his high cheekbones as he shakes his head, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. "because, e-everyone knows." he stutters out weakly. you give him a weird look, shaking your head. "bullshit." you mutter as you brush past him, slamming your locker closed. “creep.” 

- 

richie hadn't meant to stalk them. y/n y/l/n's friend group just happened to be on the route he usually patrolled after classes, so he unintentionally ended up watching them pop in and out of the drugstore.

it was nearing a golden light around the city as richie sits on the fire escape of some building across the way - y/n's distinct figure sliding out of the store, arms wrapped inconspicuously around a bag and smile bright enough that richie can barely see the shiner still catching the light on y/n's left eye. 

he briefly wonders where it's really from, and if y/n was okay. he wonders if y/n was robbed, or if he could've been there to stop it. 

it's not until the three others in y/n's gang of idiots run out of the store that it clicks in richie's head - they definitely just stole those cookies, chips, the bottles of pop, the - richie tilts his head, squinting his eyes. yes, y/n definitely stole that handle of tito's. 

then y/n’s lifting the sheet in their hands - it looks clear, and then it’s being wrapped around a car in the parking lot. he’s alarmed, for a moment - y/n wouldn’t do that to just anybody, he doesn’t think. but then he laughs into his mask when he recognizes the car: flash thompson’s. 

he’s a nightmare, and he makes richie’s life hell just as much as flash makes y/n’s life hell and the rest of richie’s friends. so he leaves her be to saran wrap the car. 

feeling relieved that when he got his powers his vision repaired itself, richie can't help but chuckle, watching y/n's hair glint in the light and the way they tilt back in laughter, the gaggle of friends traipsing away from the store and down the block. richie's lips quirk in a small grin: shit, maybe y/n's not so bad. 

- 

but despite that, richie and y/n's rivalry did nothing but steadily increase for the next week.

maybe it was because you were furious that you and your bio partner, richie's best friend stan, had gotten a b- on your lab, or maybe it was just  because richie was just feeling a bit more testy than typical. 

you're sure it's because when you go to your debate club's meeting, you find none other than richie tozier sitting across from your chair. 

"why is he here?" you ask the teacher, and he nods to richie, "i requested he attend a meeting, try it out. richie's quite talented, you know. i figured we could bring in a new challenge for you." 

“just because someone can talk a lot doesn’t mean they have anything good to say.” you snap. 

you can't even look at the cocky smirk on richie's face, his feet kicked up as he lounges at the desk. "intimidated, toots?" he asks cooly, and you roll your eyes. "never." 

and then ten minutes later, you’re doing a brainbreaking exercise where you’re split into groups of two and debating over a topic given to you. but you and richie were far more distracted by each other. 

“you know, for someone who everyone says is the best intellectual match for me, you’re a straight up douche and i can’t wait to graduate and never see you again.”

“compatible intellect, doll, not personalities. maybe if you stop acting like such an infant and stamping your feet around, we can part ways even faster.”

you glare at him. he glares back. then nothing else happens. 

the stress of the day caught up to you nearly immediately as you got home. you're holding back tears as you ignore your parents, who are screaming at each other; instead changing into sweats and a sweatshirt, brewing yourself a mug of tea, and slinking up to the roof with a blanket, prepared to mope around in the drizzle of rain. at least on the roof, nobody will see you cry. 

but the universe just can't let you have anything as of lately, because as soon as you finally settle down on the roof sitting on the blanket, and nearly letting a tear escape, a figure stands up a mere twenty feet from you, and you jump a bit. apprehensively, your eyes squint, and you're shocked to discover a spiderman suit bright in the dreary lighting of the overcast afternoon. 

the suit-clad person seems to be surprised by you as well, as you stand up, you're wary, unsure of how to act. of course you've heard of spiderman - he's all anyone can talk about lately, but you never expected to see him this close. what do you say?

"are you real?" you croak out. 

"am i- yes, what kind of question is that?"  his voice is way younger than you expected, and you're almost thrown off. he's closed the distance between you now, standing between you and the edge of the building, about four feet away. 

you narrow your eyes, immediately wanting to test him. "well, i don't know, i've seen people around jackson heights just wearing costumes like spiderman-" you argue, shrugging. 

the bickering is unexpected from a literal superhero, but it's strangely familiar to you. frowning, you walk closer to the masked figure, watching as spiderman takes steps backwards. he's at the edge of the building, and so without any thought, you place both of your palms across his sturdy chest and shove as hard as you can. "wait, wait what are you-" and spiderman's voice fades as he stumbles back, falling off the edge of the building with a yelp. 

for a moment, your breath leaves your lungs, and your hands slap your mouth. what did you just do? you can't breathe, tears clouding your vision yet again. 

but then a sticky, stringy substance slaps to the side of the building and the figure comes flying up, having catapulted himself up and back on the roof with a web. you gasp in relief, but the figure is already talking. 

"-what the fuck is your deal?" are the first words from the masked boy as he walks away from the ledge. your eyes are still wide, heart thumping fast and your tears are still there, threatening to fall. "-what if i wasn't actually spiderman, i- you could've killed an innocent person, holy sh-" 

you're tuning him out, though, the realization that you could have just killed someone finally pushing you over the edge. you crumble onto the blanket and let out a short, cut off sob. 

"woah, woah, hey..." spider-man looks hesitant, but then comes towards you where you fall to the gravel. "-hey, what's h-what are you doing, why are you crying?" he says, voice going softer. you frown, wondering why his voice seems so deep and forced. batman did that to conceal his identity, you think before letting out a sob, shaking your head. "shouldn't you be out, like, fighting crime or whatever?" 

"i'm here to make sure people are okay. you're clearly not okay." he argues, and you're too tired to try and argue with this stranger. 

"my parents are getting divorced," you sniff, eyes squeezing shut as more thick tears leak down your cheek. you know you probably look destroyed right now in front of this hero, but you don't care. after silence from him, he sits down right next to you on your blanket, backs leaning against some electrical box.

"and.. i can't tell who's lying. they told me completely different things." you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly. "my mom says it was a l-loveless marriage, that he- my dad used to... hurt her. and cheat on her-" you hiccup, wiping your eyes, makeup leaking on your hands. 

"my dad says she's psychotic. that she steals his stuff, that she always yells at him, and i can't-" you sigh, looking up at the clouds, watching a flock of birds fly away in the misting of the wet weather. "i feel like they see me as a pawn to play off each other. and at my school, i'm just the antagonist. people only like me because they like to see the fights i get into with this other kid." 

"midtown is just like that, i'm sure none of them mean anything by it-" you look at the boy, squinting as you take in the red fabric stretching over sharp cheekbones.

 "-how d'you know i go to midtown?" you sniffle. does spiderman go there, too? or teach there? how old is he, because he certainly seems too young to be a teacher?

he leans back, exhaling in an admission of guilt that flares a feeling of familiarity in you somewhere, something that's on the tip of your tongue. "lucky guess?" he states, choking it out as if he was trying to form the right words. you decide to brush it off, the feeling of being able to vent to a complete stranger suddenly making you feel better. the light mist in the air even feels good, now. 

"i can't deal with it. i just don't know. why should this have to be something they vent to me about? it hurts, i don't know what to believe and i just don't know what to do. i'm lost, i just need to have someone here for me." you hug yourself slightly, "am i selfish?" you finally ask, voicing the thought that's been nagging you for months. it's silent for a moment. a car horn sounds in the distance, a dog barks, people call to each other in the street. below you, the street is dotted with tiny moving umbrellas, concealing people underneath their net of dry safety in mere splotches of yellow, black, pink from how high up you are. 

spider man's nudging you in the ribs softly, then, calling you back to your own body. "listen. i know selfish, okay? i'm the definition of it, but, uh..." 

"y/n." you sniffle. "-y/n. trust me, you're not selfish for wanting to be loved, to be cared for...it's, um..." he scratches the back of his head, and you briefly wonder what color his hair is. what texture, length, how he styles it. 

"you deserve good things to happen, and, uh, it's not selfish for you to be overwhelmed. you're going through stuff that people our age shouldn't go through. especially not alone."

"so you are my age?" you ask, sniffling. sensing him tense next to you, you brush it off. you kind of figured as much from his...immaturity. "and you - spiderman - think you're selfish? do you know how much of a paradox that statement is?" you jest, shaking your head. 

spiderman's head tilts back, and he laughs. it seems to surprise him almost as much as it surprises you, because he shakes his head, trying to stifle it quick. "you forget," he starts, his fingers tapping at the tight fabric on his thighs. "that i also have a life. i'm not just spiderman. so... yeah, maybe spiderman's not the most selfish person ever, but... i am. the real me." 

"you have to care a lot about people to want to do what you do." you say, feeling better after talking to someone and hearing his reassurance. "you're not always spiderman, but... y'now, spiderman is always you. i'd say that makes you a good person." you say simply. you sigh, heart still hurting.  you start with a deep breath, then a quiet, "you ever feel stuck? like..."

"like you're playing two people at once?" he finishes. you swallow, feeling oddly seen by this masked stranger. "yeah, spiderman." you say dejectedly. 

-

and that was the start of an odd, unlikely friendship between you and the masked stranger. he'd stop by your building almost every other day, even if for a few minutes, always to check in on you, to ask how your day was. it made your chest fill with butterflies and the air fill with your laughter. 

despite your new friendship, things at midtown sort of took a turn for the worse. 

it was just richie, really. your black eye was gone but richie seemed to be compensating for something every time he saw you - the person who used to be a challenging enemy turned into a malicious tormentor, who would comment on every single thing you do. it was driving you mad. 

you're just lucky richie doesn't know that you do all the school's photography somehow, or at least, doesn't remember, because he's gone the days that you take photos for the decathalon, the honor society, and the band. each time you asked, someone told you some lame excuse like, 'oh, tozier's at the orthodontist.' 

richie doesn't have braces, though. 

you can’t help but wonder why richie’s never there, why he’s always sneaking off, buying new backpacks... bruises on his eyes...

the last straw is when you and stan are just trying to finish this replacement lab to get a better grade, and richie's sitting at the end of the table with bill denbrough, the two of them playing paper football and laughing loudly like they're fourth graders. 

you resist the urge to beg stan to get his moronic friends away from you, knowing that it would just insult the boy and get you nowhere. 

so, with gritted teeth and a tight grip on your pen, you work in relative silence with stan while the two imbeciles chuckle at each other at the other end of the room, disturbing the quiet peace of the library. 

"so, y/l/n, you goin' to prom?" richie asks out of the blue, feigning innocence. you grip your pen tighter, knowing it's a trap. don't bite, y/n. don't bite. don't bite, don't bite, don't bite-  "it's a little soon to be thinking about prom." you say, trying to skirt around the issue. 

"it's okay, not everyone can get a date, you can still go with friends." he says, also trying to sound nonchalant. you snort, "like you could get a date either." 

bill laughs as he pulls out some homework, having finally decided to make good use of his time. "you can go together, then." bill mutters. stan huffs a laugh at that, too. "i have plans that night." you say immediately, eyes not leaving your paper as stan smirks at you in amusement. 

"no, yeah, y/n. let's go together." richie says, "i can meet the ol' pops and get to see your mom again. that reminds me, i can’t stop by to see her, so give her a big old kiss from me tonight, will ya?"  he asks with a wink. 

"is everything a joke to you?" you ask, trying to hide your irritation by acting bored. you ignore the feelings you get from his wink. 

"only funny things, doll." richie smiles, a crooked grin that, if you didn't know his personality, would make you swoon. it's suddenly no wonder to you why the people at this school always giggle and whisper and laugh with him; he's utterly gorgeous. 

"it's not your fault your mom likes me more than your dad." he jokes, chuckling to himself. "shut up, i'm trying to do homework." bill says, then promptly kicks him under the table, which you're grateful for because the pain that flashes across your face momentarily is concealed from richie's gaze as he winces and ducks down for a second. 

that shouldn't have hurt you because he's obviously just joking with you and doesn’t know, but since the tenseness in your house recently and the ugly divorce, things have just been extremely hard. you cannot stand his audacity; richie thinks he can say whatever he want and get excused because he's too damn pretty. you clench your fists. 

"y/n, i'll give you ten dollars to slap him." stan says, barely paying attention; a pen hangs from between his lips, brows furrowed as he works on your reassignment, eyes calculating. you think, for a moment, how nice it'd be to be real friends with stan. if not for richie. 

and for some reason, in that split moment, you don't think. you're pent up, angry at the world, at your teacher, at richie, at your parents, and because you can't be friends with stan because richie gets in the way of everything - and you whirl around, catching richie by surprise as you land a slap to his face that resonates throughout the whole library. a gasp sounds from somewhere behind you as the librarian startles out of her work. 

suddenly, four pairs of eyes are staring at you. 

you blink back, face feeling as warm as richie's red cheek looks. 

the librarian didn't hesitate to send you and richie to the principal's office, resulting in a suspension for you and richie alike, the two of you not meeting eyes in the waiting room outside the administrative offices. 

the subway trip and then consequential walk home was lonely, rainy, and dismal.

- - - 

besides your parents and your immediate friends, the only other person you told about the suspension was spiderman, when he came to see you on the roof that afternoon. you told him about richie, how you'd decked him for hitting a sore subject with you. 

"you know, he seems like a dick but... i bet he means well. i'm sure he does." is all spiderman had said, acting fidgety before leaving. despite that, it had still felt good to know you could trust him. 

the next monday at school is when you see richie again, face clean and clear of any evidence of your fist. 

you were walking home from school when you passed across the football field. he was with his friends on the turf, seemingly not getting on the subway yet. they're sprawled out, all seven of them, smoking cigarettes or playing a game of travel chess, one of them reading a book. there’s an empty can of coke, one of the glass bottles, filled with gross water and cigarette butts. stan sits with richie, beverly marsh laying with her head in his lap as she smokes, sunglasses red and blocking the sun. 

before you get too close, before they can notice, you snap a photo of them. they just look timeless. 

but then, as you put away your camera, richie sees you. you get ready for a fight; but what comes is just  sheffling feet and fingers fidgeting slightly. "y/n." he starts off with as he walks up to you, all by himself. 

you watch him, your own eyes flowing with guilt. "hey, richie." you say, trying to be better about controlling your attitude. "i wanted to say i'm sorry." he says, and you widen your eyes. he what?

"i sometimes don't know how to stop running my mouth, and i went too far. i usually do. and i'm sorry, i just want to start fresh." he says honestly. you swallow - something about his words, about the way he said selfish...

you shake your head, "no, i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have hit you." richie shrugs, "i deserved it, s’okay." 

it's quiet. 

"being friends is good." you say, shrugging. "as long as i can still tell you that i think you're acting like a three year old."  "as long as i still can act like one." he counters, grinning. and then he's shaking your hand and walking away. 

you feel better the rest of the day. 

- - - 

"you know, i'm a photographer." you whisper that same night in the dark.  "you are?" the boy in the suit next to you sounds genuinely shocked. you beam, "y-yeah, i actually got a few wicked shots of you from a few weeks ago."

"are you the one that's been selling my photos to all the papers?" he asks, and you laugh, head tilting toward the sky. "no, not me." he hums, a laugh escaping that doesn't sound like his usual voice he uses around you. you've accepted that spiderman's been hiding his identity and voice from you because you may recognize him. you've also decided that he's probably from midtown - but there are over seven thousand students at midtown, so chances are still slim. 

why is it that this boy, who you don't even know the name of, has captured your attention? why do you feel like kissing him all the time? 

“oh, here’s a shot i took.” you say, pulling out the photo you’d just finished developing in the dark room today. “couple days ago. i just finished developing it.” 

you show it to him, and you can’t tell his reaction at all. “it’s not really impressive, i just - they’re just some kids in my class, but... i don’t know, there’s something about them that i just really think should be made into art.” 

he’s quiet after that, but holds on to the photo hard enough that you’re worried it may wrinkle. 

“god, y/n-” he stops himself, voice cracking and nearing the closest you’ve ever heard it to being true to him. not the weird, batman garbage. 

“this is cool. you should- you should show them, i bet they’d like it.” 

you scoff, “no, they wouldn’t.” you take the photo back, fingers tracing richie’s face, the way his lips curl around a cigarette, the way his dark hair and eyebrows and eyelashes clash with his skin and clothes. you shake your head, “this is the boy i hit. when i got suspended. i don’t think he’d like this very much. probably call me a freak.” 

you meet his eyes - or, you suppose you do - and then his hand is hovering in front of your face, debating. you don’t dare move, and then he’s combing hair behind your ear, giving you chills that run down your spine.

you clear your throat, smiling softly as he moves his hand away.

spiderman doesn’t say much after that. 

it’s minutes until he speaks again. "shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" he suddenly asks, and you sigh, beginning to pack up your things and gather your backpack. he follows you to the edge of the building and as you climb down the ladder to the fire escape, he webs himself and falls back, landing above you against the bricks when you stand up. 

you're nearly eye level now as he hangs upside down, listening to you rant. "-maybe i'll just walk to mary's place. it's not that far-" you cut yourself off as you're opening your window, eyes landing on the figure in your room, who looks just as confused as you. 

your eyes widen, "m-mom!" you say, alarmed as spiderman hangs next to you, just barely sealed from your mother's sight by the brick wall.

"is someone there with you, y/n?" she asks, tilting her head to get a look. you shake your head quickly, thankful that it's dark out and she can probably only see you, backlit by the lights from the alley below. she explains something about being unable to take you to your friend's house - and you nod along, willing for her to just leave. "that's okay, mom. i can take the subway." you say honestly. it's harder to drive around here, anyways. 

she finally leaves, and you let out a breath, unsure as to how she'd react to know you were with spiderman on the roof. you let out a small laugh, and so does he. 

"well, walking will be fine. she's just paranoid, and plus - i have you." you say, joking as you nudge his shoulder. but instead of laughing or going off the joke as he usually would, spiderman hums in agreement. 

"no matter what, you'll be safe. i promise." spiderman says from where he hangs upside down from the top edge of your fire escape, face almost level with yours. that makes your heart skip a beat, his words swirling around your stomach in a warm pool of comfort. 

you smile, "okay." you whisper. you believe it. 

then, before you slip into your window and he slips out into the night, you turn to him. you can only hope he's looking at you, the mask always leaving it to speculation.

 "can i try something? just once?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest as you step closer to him. he hesitates, and you wonder if he's biting his lips, or his cheek; if his eyes are wide or narrowed in thought. you wonder, for the thousandth time, what he looks like.

but eventually, it comes. "yes," he whispers.

gently, your fingertips find the edge of his mask down near his neck, and in the barely lit up corner of your fire escape you start to peel away his mask, revealing just his jaw, chin, and lips. goosebumps appear on his soft skin in the wake of your touch. 

you feel butterflies. 

his pale white skin reflects off the moonlight slightly, his jawline sharp as your fingers find their way across his skin, his mouth parting to take in a breath, lips full and red in the darkness. you wish you recognized these lips. 

in fact, a voice somewhere in you screams that you wish it was richie's lips. you abolish that thought before you have time to think about it.

you can tell he's nervous, but you don't know if it's because he doesn't trust you and thinks you're going to whip off his mask, or because he knows what you're about to do. you're pulled toward him by an invisible force, the kind that wishes and hopes and needs you to be closer to him, whoever he is. 

his jaw is structured and you feel it clench slightly under your hand as you cup his cheeks, barely raising on your tip toes as you near his upside-down face. you're not sure if he's breathing but, honestly, you know you aren't either. you just have to do this. so you close the gap. 

his lips are plush and less chapped than you'd expected, his presence warm and protecting and exuding bashfulness yet somehow also emanating confidence. he rises almost as the tide does at your grandma's old house in the east, tilting his head as your nose brushes against the skin on the side of his jaw. 

richie’s face flashes behind your closed eyes, and it makes you take in a sharp breath, realizing that yes, okay, maybe you do want to kiss richie. but you're not - you're kissing spiderman. you feel light, butterflies thrashing around. 

his hand, covered by his mesh suit's fabric, falls to the nape of your neck, upside down so his thumb rests right on the soft of your throat, where your heart thumps hard and quick against him. 

you swear you've never felt more like you're flying. you pull away after a few moments, your face burning even with the slight breeze. his hand stays on your neck for a split moment and then he lets it drop, returning to hold his web that keeps him suspended.

you watch with a small, shy smile as he bites his lip, containing what could only be the most beautiful smile you would ever see. you frown for a moment as you get that inkling again that you should know him. 

"please, what's your name?" you finally ask again. he had to trust you, right? you've had countless opportunities to pry, to rip his mask off, to find out yourself. but you want him to trust you with it, to want to tell you. 

his smile slowly fades, and yours does too. "can't you just tell me your name?" you whisper in desperate frustration. 

his mouth opens, then closes as if he decided against it. carefully, one hand pulls his mask back over his lips, concealing him once again as spiderman. the boy you finally knew for a mere minute is gone, probably forever. "i can't. i wish i could." 

"well, okay." you say, feeling heartbroken and frustrated. angry.  

"okay." it almost gets swallowed up by the breeze as you shut your window behind you. he's gone, swinging across streets and over buildings in the distance by the time you wipe your eyes of the tears. 

- - - -

you don't see spiderman the next week. 

it seems as though only knowing spiderman for a little longer than a month and suddenly not seeing him took more of a toll on you than you'd expected; you watch yourself go through the motions of each day with no complaint, barely any words, the world around you boring.

wake up, get ready, drink a breakfast shake, late for class, leave school, homework, wait on the rooftop for your friend who you know will never show. dinner. back on the rooftop. go to bed. 

you're about to leave school on friday when it hits you, the thing that has been missing from your regular school routine. and for some reason, not having been able to see him is just as painful as not seeing spiderman. 

richie. 

you don't know why you're feeling so emotional - or maybe it's just because as much as you hate each other, the fun rivalry you keep alive with him is what gets you through life at midtown. he keeps you on your toes. 

so you seek him out for what may be the first time in your life, just to find him out back on the turf in his usual spot with all his friends. 

"tozier." you call, halting all conversation with his group of losers as they cease their talking, staring up at you with seven pairs of owl eyes. you have no clue why you're nearly in tears. maybe, in an odd way, he's a replacement, a surrogate. for a friend that you'll never see again. and you're furious at both of them.

"where the fuck have you been?" you ask. 

you watch in slight surprise as the color drains from his face, eyes widening in shock. you didn't expect him to have this reaction, in fact - you came here to pick a fight, to get the opposite of... this. richie looks as if he's been caught in the biggest lie of his life, and it's unsettling. 

he seems to shake off whatever the fuck that emotion was he just had as he stutters, "what-what do you mean?" 

you scowl at him, " did you just give up? that easy, huh? i thought you were better than that." 

richie, for a split second, looks like he might get sick, or cry. it just makes you more confused and, for some reason, more angry. for no reason. "y/n, how did you find-" 

"it's been silent in the halls, tozier. i don't know if i should be thankful or weirded out that you decided to mature overnight. you being nice to me, not being a freak... it's weird, but it's... when i said i was done with your shit and you asked to be friends, i didn't mean that i wanted you to ignore me." 

he blinks his owlish eyes at you, "OH." he states loudly, pressing his fingers to his temples as he shakes his head, "christ, i thought- nevermind. you missed me that much, doll?" he tries to ease back into his teasing attitude but you can tell it's forced. and you don't know why. his friends suddenly all look relieved too, as if they know something big that you don't. 

"forget it. this was so stupid." you mutter, walking past them briskly, barely even catching stan's eye. you don't cry until you get on the subway. 

that night, you almost didn't go up onto the roof. 

why should you? spiderman wasn't your friend anymore, he clearly got scared away when you kissed, or when you asked him who he was. it hurts, you think as you look at the dark skyline of queens, it hurts that he won't trust you with something as simple as a name. 

but you're still up there, staring at the cloudless sky and thinking of the taste of those lips as a whoosh, thud and a groan jolt you from your tranquil misery. 

you don't believe your eyes at first, but when the figure stumbles toward you, arm reaching to its neck, you definitely recognize him. "h-hey?" you say nervously, squinting against the dying light to try and see why spiderman's bent like that, stumbling to you, until he falls nearly at your feet. 

you gasp as you get a closer look; it's hard to see with the red of his suit, but he's got a fair blood stain coming out of his neck area, a slash through the neck that leads towards the collarbone. it's not fatal, and probably won't need stitches, but it sure looks like he's in a lot of pain. 

"y-your neck is bleeding." you say, eyes wide in a panic, "are-are you, do i need to get you to a hospital?" you rush, heart thumping. the boy shakes his head, though that clearly causes him pain. "my wounds- they'll regenerate quick enough. do you-do you have bandages?" he asks, and you nod aggressively, running a hand through your hair. "yes, let's go to my room." you say, trying to stay as calm as he is. with a lot of effort and sharp cries of pain, you finally make it into your room through the window on the fire escape, gently helping spiderman to your bed. 

you allow yourself ten seconds in your bathroom to gather your breaths and thoughts before taking the first aid kit and rushing back to the bleeding boy, whose name is still a mystery. 

your hands are shaking as you undo the box, and his hands suddenly fall against yours and squeeze. you look to him then, willing for the tears of fear to dry up and go away. "it's okay." he says, and then you feel even more rotten because spiderman is hurt in your bed and you're still making him comfort you. 

"no-i know. you just surprised me, is all." you trail off, pulling your hands from his to pull out antiseptic ointment, cleaning wipes and swabs. "what- um, what happened?" 

"mugging, guy had a knife. i was trying to get the purse from his hands and he slashed me. it's really not-" he coughs a bit, a fresh squeeze of blood seeping into the fabric. "-not bad. honest." 

you shake your head, looking at him. "i have to take off your mask." you say solemnly. "or else it'll get bad. infected, or- heal into the mask." 

he nods lightly, "i know." is all he says. his voices is laced with nerves. 

your hands are still shaky when you reach to pull up the mask. he makes no attempt to move except to shift himself on your bedspread. you slowly peel the mask, eyes focused on the wound and not on the boy's face. but then, you can't help it. when the mask slips off, the boy's eyes are screwed tight. 

but your breath catches in your throat when you take in his face. 

it's richie. 

of course it is. you press your lips together, forcing yourself to focus on his wound and not all the thoughts swirling in your mind. you don’t talk to each other, one out of anger and one out of pain, and he grips your arm, hand warm on your skin.

you can barely focus as you go to work on his wound, but you’re glad that by the time you’re almost finished, your anger has ebbed away and you’re strangely calm. 

you don't meet eyes until you've got his cut cleaned out and you're satisfied it won't get infected. his eyes are nervous, anxious, scared. yours are surprisingly calm, and almost emotionless. 

"hi, doll." he says, eyes no longer screwed shut, neither out of pain nor anxiety over revealing his identity. 

"do your friends know?" is all you ask. he gives you a curt not as you shakily wrap the gauze around the nape of his neck, figuring a bandaid would come right off. his hand falls from your arm as you move it around his head. 

"i had all them, but i wanted to see you." 

his words send warm waves through your body and you bite your lip.

"why didn't you tell me? the other night?" you ask shortly, knowing that fighting won't get you anywhere. 

“look, i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, i really am. but slipping the fact that i developed spider-like superhuman abilities into an ‘are we friends or do we hate each other’ conversation is pretty fuckin' difficult.” he defends. 

you nod, because, after consideration, you think you would have probably done the same. "okay. if your friends know, why didn't you..."  you don't know how to phrase it. 

"why didn't i go to one of them?" he sighs, sitting up as you finish clasping the gauze. he rubs his eyes and you realize you're not used to him without glasses - does he even need those anymore? his eyes are so blue, so warm. his eyelashes are long. 

"i missed you. or, i - i don't know, i just... i needed to show you. to tell you. i was afraid to put you in danger but you deserve to know.” he says, honestly.  

you hum, flicking a piece of rubble from his shoulder and then using that as an excuse to run your hands over the material there, feeling his muscles under your touch. "and you had to get stabbed to work up the courage?" you tease. 

he beams, despite himself. and it's beautiful. 

"how else could i get your attention, doll? i tried everything else." 

you shake your head, huffing a bit. "can't believe you let me kiss you." you bury your face in your hands, feeling hot and embarrassed. "i'm sorry you had to do that." you squeak out, mortified. 

it's quiet, and then, "i would do it again." 

you look at him, from where you sit - both so close, almost touching... his breath almost hits your face. "really?" he looks at you like you've grown three heads. "yes." he deadpans, "obviously. why else could i have been spending so much time with you?" 

you laugh, tilting your head back. "so you only want me for my lips?" you joke even though you're nervous. richie groans, hands tangling in his nest of windswept curls. it's charming and it makes your stomach flutter. 

"y/n, don't make this so hard." he begs. unable to help yourself, you perk up, "that's what she said-" you start, but then richie kisses you for the second time. 

he's nearly crashing into you, lips finding yours desperately through his own smile of disbelief - that you'd said that, or that he's kissing you? you don't care as you kiss back, hands finding purchase on his chest or in his hair. 

then he's regaining his strength as your tongue finds his and he nudges you over, rolling so he lays above you. you pull him between your hips as he bites your lip gently and then moves on to kiss your neck, filling you with heat and butterflies. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner." he whispers into the shell of your ear as he bites a soft mark on your upper throat, and you sigh. "god, it-it's fine-" 

but then it's too late, because your bedroom door flies open.

startled,  you and richie break apart, eyes wide and lips bruised; blood staining his spiderman suit as he lays on top of you, your legs fastened around his hips and your hands tinged with his blood and sweat, both of you breathing wildly. 

your mom stands in front of you, eyes wide and mouth agape in near horror - spiderman in bed with you. "hello, ma'am." richie breathes out and you resist the urge to smother yourself with a pillow. 

"just... keeping your daughter safe, y'know, friendly neighborhood spiderman."

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