#he really cut that one off at the source

[gayofthefae]

"I used to have panic attacks, here's how you turn a woman off" is so logical coming from the man who was hospitalized because his girlfriend was mistaken for his wife.

[little-pondhead]

Oops.

While learning to control his powers under the guidance of Clockwork, Danny accidentally curses his own bloodline with the Curse of Sentient Food several centuries in the past. Originally, a witch was supposed to curse his family. Oops. Well, the Fentons were always adapting, and technically, either way, he'd end up battling dino nuggets at three am in his underwear, no matter who the curse came from. So he shrugged and continued on.

Unfortunately, this also means that out of nowhere, the timeline shifted, and some of his very distant relatives are now battling their food into submission at every meal because Danny is ultimately way more powerful than some mortal witch from the 1600s. His version of the curse reached literally everyone he could ever be related to for the last few centuries. Even if they were adopted into the family!

So, returning to the present time after training, Danny is a little startled to see some news clips of people's dinners coming to life and beginning revolutions. Wow, John Fentonightingale really got around, didn't he? He felt a little uncomfortable that now all these random people had to deal with their share of Fenton luck, but from some of the interviews, everyone seemed to be handling it pretty well!

Especially his so-distant-they're-on-another-tree cousins, the Kents, who contacted his family directly, asking how best to prepare a zombie turkey. Their son was coming for Thanksgiving with his new wife and some coworkers, and they just refused to make the guests fight for their lives on a holiday!

They invited the Fentons to join them, of course.

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.

It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.

Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.

He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.

Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.

Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.

Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.

And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.

——

Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-

He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.

He’s there to protect.

Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.

Batman and Robin? They are his.

He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.

Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.

“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.

“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.

“Goth’m?”

“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”

When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-

Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.

“You-”

“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”

“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.

“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”

He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”

Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”

“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”

“Thank you… Gotham.”

Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.

Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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[kizzer55555]

DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

TADC: Thoughts on Jax in Episode 2

Thoughts on Jax after Amazing Digital Circus Episode 2 Dropped.

Massive spoilers below the cut. Just watch the ep before you read.

Amazing Digital Circus had an amazing second episode as we're introduced more to what the adventures are like, and what NPCs are like and ofc the existential horror of being a living AI only created for a source of entertainment.

Also, I love the dream sequence at the beginning, because we actually get some deeper insight into Pomni's thoughts on Ragatha. Feeling like her helpfulness is the guise of like "man, you're not cut out for this like the rest of us" which is typically something a lot of people who have been bullied in highschool perceive genuine acts of kindness and engagement. (which I kind of suspect Pomni might have been, or at least, been a shut-in and didn't have a lot of friends in her human life. )

Jax wasn't really the main focus of the episode, but it wasn't really until the end of the episode I understood his behavior and what this episode is foreshadowing overall.

Since while Jax isn't the focus emotionally, he is definitely the plot device to push things forward. And I mean, a plot device in a very active and quite literal way. He's the one that causes Pomni to clip out of the map, takes advantage of everyone and is just... genuinely an unpleasant person.

I actually really like this.

As, I know the first episode in the digital circus, many people (me included) could perceive or analyze Jax's actions as someone who is "helping" in a roundabout asshole way. Episode Two has none of that here. He just wants Bloodshed, And I love that we're getting additional context on his character.

It's hard to tell how much fan reception Gooseworx saw of episode one before episode two hit production, so I don't know how much of the fandom perception of Jax had an influence on the writing process, but I can't deny that might have been a factor in assuring us "no he's not secretly helpful, he's just an asshole" But I'm just going to assume that this has been part of his characterization from the start and it becomes way more clear as the episode goes on.

But there was something in his behavior throughout this whole episode that seemed off to me. Like Jax was taking up a majority of the B-plot, while Pomni had the A-plot. So I was wondering why Jax seemed to be the protagonist with the B-plot when Pomni was the A-plot when they seemed to be so disconnected with eachother in motivations and telling us things about the characters.

But then it hit me when the episode ended and the two plots merged together.

"who... knows... what could happen..."

And then it hit me.

Pomni finds comfort in an NPC who is going through a similar experience to her and can emphasize, despite their being other humans who have gone through the same thing, due to her self-admitting to being a loner in her human life. Well, she didn't admit it outright, but from how she perceives Ragatha's kindness as an act, or patronizing, it seems like she doesn't have a lot of friends...

Meanwhile... Jax... He treats the adventure like a videogame. Why shouldn't he? He's trapped in a videogame, right? But it really goes beyond that.

The fellow humans that Jax is trapped with, he treats THEM like they're NPCs, while Pomni treats the NPC like they're human.

Jax says to Gangle "Aren't you supposed to be the suggestible one?" Which you wouldn't typically wouldn't say to a person, right? That's something you would say more about a character that you maxed out the dialogue trees in.

He calls Pomni "His Bridge" even.

They're his objects. His tools, his own npcs he's exhausted the dialogue options on.

Jax dehumanizes the players in a way that Pomni humanizes the NPCS.

These are two opposite ends of the spectrum but what really sold it for me was Jax's reaction to the funeral.

And Jax is the one member out of the cast who doesn't even show up to the funeral. (aside from Caine and Bubble but they are AI.)

He does NOT want to think about the Players as real people. And showing that opposite perspective compared to Pomni I think is much as important going forward.

Jax was the plot catalyst of this entire episode, and served the thematic theme of the episode quite well, even if it didn't look like it on first glance.

I absolutely loved this episode and I can't wait for more.

Also... Poor Pomni can't have shit in Detroit

[heartfullofleeches]

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

-

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

-

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

[kimkaelyn]

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

[swampjawn]

God I love animation. I love it for the way it can bring anything to life beyond the constraints of boring ol' reality, but also the ways that it's inextricably linked to, and draws on the conventions of live-action film-making.

So fuck it, let's look at how Hayao Miyazaki straight up copies some camera framing techniques from his predecessor and the other most influential Japanese filmmaker of all time, Akira Kurosawa! (Kurosawa really was the master of framing scenes around his characters, so he's a great source of inspiration)

(btw, this is a screenshot from this TV special where the two met for the first time just after the release of Kurosawa's final film. It's pretty interesting, and also very cute how nervous Miyazaki seems to be to meet one of his idols.)

Specifically, how the two each choose to break the 180 degree rule (well, not technically 'break' in the case of Kurosawa) to show their protagonists' changing destiny in "Throne of Blood" and "Princess Mononoke".

For anyone who doesn't know, the 180 degree rule is a basic film-making rule of thumb which states that in any scene where two characters interact, you should draw an imaginary line between them and the camera should always stay on one side of that line.

("In the Mood for Love" - Wong Kar-wai)

This way, one character is always looking to the right of the camera, the other is always looking to the left, and the audience doesn't get confused by the geography of the scene. Crossing this line can be disorienting, but when done intentionally, it can convey a paradigm shift of some kind in the scene.

In this scene from "Throne of Blood," (a feudal Japanese retelling of Macbeth) Washizu's wife Asaji discusses tactics with him and tries to convince him to aspire to the throne and to assassinate his lord Tsuzuki while he sleeps.

As two servants appear to notify them that Washizu's sleeping quarters are prepared, the camera dollies left and around the characters' backs. This camera movement is motivated by the motion of the servants' torches outside the room, but it also signifies a change in Washizu's outlook.

Washizu is completely silent for most of this scene, contemplating his wife's advice. But as the camera slides behind his back and across the line of action, the scene is now re-framed, illustrating his change in perspective.

He's been convinced and the trajectory of his life is about to change - and now, facing away from the camera, is the time for action.

Because the camera slides smoothly across the line, Kurosawa isn't technically breaking the 180 degree rule. Miyazaki on the other hand, takes it a little further.

The complimentary scene in Princess Mononoke comes near the start when the wise woman of the village reads Prince Ashitaka's fortune after he's cursed by the wild boar spirit. She tells him that it is his fate to leave the village and travel to the west, where he may be able to lift the curse on his arm. The trajectory of Ashitaka's life changes in this moment too. As he accepts his fate, the change is symbolized by him cutting off his hair, but also by the camera jumping the line.

Throughout this dialogue scene and even as he cuts his hair, the simulated camera sits just slightly to the side of Ashitaka's left shoulder.

But once it's done, for the final shot, the scene is reframed and we jump to the other side, where Ashitaka is now looking to the right of the camera instead of the left.

Making the camera dolly across a scene like Kurosawa's version in 2D animation is no simple task, so this transition with a simple cut is in a way subtler, in another way a bit more jarring, but it conveys the same meaning.

This is the moment when our protagonists make the choice to embark on a new destiny and re-frame their lives.

This has been an excerpt from a short video essay I made a while back, which not many people watched. I think this is at least in part due to my failure to package it well, and it seems you tumblheads like this animation/cinematography analysis stuff, so this is an experiment to see if, with the help of y'all, and a new title and thumbnail, it's at all possible to give this video a second wind in the eyes of the Youtube Gods!

So if you found this interesting, I'd appreciate if you checked it out! Thanks for reading!

[tojikai]

Sundered 7: TIES

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of sexual assault

word count: 6.0k

And he was happy. But never the happiest.

Naomi couldn’t count how many calls she had made but the wetness in her cheeks is proof of how frustrated she already is. “Please, pick up.” She bit the inner side of her cheeks, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. Naomi regrets what she did. She regretted that she still proceeded despite knowing how wrong it was.

She warned herself not to be greedy at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered telling him they’d take it step by step, not rushing anything because they were determined to make it work. Now that she’s thinking about it, maybe he’s only determined because he wanted to forget about you so badly.

“Mom, please. He threw me out.” Naomi spoke on the phone, tapping her feet as she stood in the middle of her room with her things around her. She took all the things necessary and left. Satoru would probably put everything she left in the trash but that’s the least of her concern right now. She lost everything she had with Satoru and it’s all because of her stupidity.

“What did you expect? You sexually assaulted my son and you want me to help you?” The woman hissed at her. Naomi was naive; thinking that she’ll have her back just because she wanted her for Satoru. “If anything I could even get you arrested—” She began but Naomi was quick to defend herself.

“You’re part of this. Didn’t you basically tell me to use a child to keep your son?!” Tears of anger pooled in her eyes as her hands shook in fear, fury, and heartbreak. Naomi remembered when Satoru’s mom would free her schedule so she could spend time with him and Yui. She would suggest activities and let Naomi tag along and that’s how they started to fall for each other.

Or rather, that’s how she started to fall for him while he just wanted an escape.

“But I never told you to do that to my son! Naomi, do you really think someone would side with you on this?” Every corner of Naomi’s room felt like they were closing in on her, ready to squeeze her till she was nothing but dust. Of course, no one would be with her. No matter what Satoru’s mother told her, she still chose to follow it so the blame’s on her.

“For someone who finished school with flying colors, your mind is dull.” She chuckled, letting Naomi hear all she truly is. “You got a pretty face, you know? That’s another reason why you caught Satoru’s eyes easily.” At that point, Naomi didn’t know if it was still a compliment. She’s pretty and kind, and smart and perfect for him, like she said. But why can’t she have all of him?

“But I’m afraid that pretty face would be useless now. If I were you I’d go start over alone somewhere far.” She clicked her tongue, cutting Naomi’s thoughts off every time she tried to voice them out. “Like, imagine graduating only to get jailed over some dumb, desperate shit? Naomi, you screwed up. And that’s why you lost all chances with my son.”

Naomi shook her head, the warmness of her emotions dampened the smooth skin of her face. “No, you made me…” She breathed out, covering her mouth before running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to do that…No.” She bawled and bawled but the line only went more and more silent.

She fucked up and she’s right. The shame and the loss of self-respect are not something she could live through in this city. She must go, she must leave. Like how they always did when she was a kid; fleeing the scene with her embarrassment of a family who can’t live without humiliating them. They have no decent source of living so they gotta strive.

Now, she’s doing all of it again, all while losing all of it. Again.

“Save yourself. I won’t let them know of your plan. After all, you were once of help to my child. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the call ended; with Naomi sitting on the floor as she put a balled hand over her throbbing chest, and the thought of going away to start as someone new settled in the middle of her head. Naomi learned a lot from all the troubles she went through.

This time, she learned that you could have someone's body but their heart could still be somewhere else.

—-------------------------------------------------

“What is it?” Satoru heard through the phone speaker. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, letting relief flood his veins and calm his shaking flesh. “When are you free?” There was a long pause before Satoru’s father replied, “You know I can make time.” Clearing his throat, Satoru massaged his temples, thanking the heavens that his nightmares weren’t real.

“Let’s meet later if that’s alright.” He whispered, scared that his voice would break. Satoru knows that he is the only link between the relationship of his parents. Just like how his older brother would’ve been the connection his father was hoping to keep his first, real love close. Until they got tired of it all; the matters brought by his mother. And him.

Just like how she drained Satoru out. And right now he just wanted to run away from her too.

“Of course, just send me the exact time.” Satoru nodded as if his father could see him, “Are you alright?” He asked after a few seconds as if sensing the trouble from his son’s voice. “Yeah, much better now, at least.” Satoru rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, eyeing the negative results of the vaginal swab test. “Dad, Mom can’t know.”

He’s almost sure that the request would prompt questions from his father, knowing that he’s aware of how close he is to his Mom. But he was surprised when he simply agreed, murmuring an “Okay.” before letting his son end the call. Satoru pictured him on his office chair as he nodded away, brows furrowed with worry like he always is when it comes to family matters.

When Satoru was a child, his nanny would tell him that his father wasn’t always so workaholic when his ex-wife was still there, co-parenting with him. After she ran away and left, his father started to immerse himself in work more. He knows that he tried with his mother since they were already there and married. But it was just never the same.

His father was happy with them. But he could never be the happiest again.

Leaning back on the chair, he put a hand over his eyes and let his frustrations stream down his cheeks. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing the papers before looking at them in a brighter light. It’s negative. Nothing happened. You woke him up just in time. He tapped on Naomi’s contact, quickly typing his last message before attaching a photo of the results.

‘I’m mailing the rest of your things tomorrow.’ It only took a minute for her to respond with an apology but Satoru doesn’t care anymore to read it. He blocked the number as soon as he made sure that she received and read the message. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near her.

He knows he is wrong for not telling her about his feelings as soon as he can. But that doesn’t equal what she did to him and what she almost got them into. Satoru checked the clock before sending the time to his father, hoping to end all of this mess before the mess ended him.

His mother has been calling him nonstop, and he always had to pretend that he was not home during the previous days. He stayed in watching movies with his little girl, sending you videos and pictures every now and then. He slept in her room during those days, a desperate attempt to calm his brain down. His head hurts from overthinking.

Putting the papers back into the envelope, Satoru took it with him to his room. He made sure to put it in his bedside drawer, just in case some other shit comes up. If this happened before, he’d probably think that Naomi is not that kind of person. But after what she did to him, all of the trust and admiration she has for her went to waste.

Changing into something more comfortable, Satoru tried to take a quick nap. He doesn’t want to look this tired when he meets his father. He’d probably convince him to get a general checkup just to make sure that nothing was wrong. Satoru knows that if it weren’t for him, his father wouldn’t ever put up with his mom. He’d probably spend his whole life searching for his ex-wife.

A few hours of nap felt like nothing because when Satoru woke up, he still felt tired. The only difference is his heartbeat doesn’t sound like it’s trying to come out of his chest anymore unlike when he was waiting for the results. A little progress is still progress; just like how he’s trying to make it all up to you.

If Satoru’s being honest, he’d fall down to his knees and beg you to take him back if you asked him to do it. The only thing stopping him is his brain telling him how happy you are right now and how he wouldn’t want to destroy that. He can’t force himself to stop thinking about you but he can force himself to move on if it’s for you.

Satoru leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, reading a text from his father saying that he was on his way. Another text was from you; it was a picture of Yui holding up a coloring book and a crayon. He was just with her earlier but he misses her already. He wondered if he could visit when he doesn’t have other things to do even if it’s not his schedule yet.

Sending a response with a small smile on his face, Satoru heard the doorbell ring, signaling his father’s arrival. He peeked through the spaces of his window curtains to ensure that it was him before opening the door. Satoru’s still unsure of what he’ll say but he hopes that his father can give him a better solution.

Satoru thought that if he ever cut ties with his mother, it’d be for you and Yui’s safety. He didn’t think that it’d be for him too. “Dad,” He gave his father a hug as he stepped in, following his son as they walked to his house. “What’s going on?” He asked as soon as Satoru closed the door. They walked to the kitchen, settling on one of the barstools.

“It’s because of mom…” He began, placing a glass pitcher atop the counter.

—---------------------------------------

“Smile~ We’ll send this to Dada.” You cooed, pointing at the camera as you tried to take a picture of your daughter. At first, she didn’t want to do it, wanting nothing but to play with her book and crayons but when she heard that her Dad wanted to know about it, she got real creative with the pose. “You don’t listen to Mama, anymore.” You pouted at her as you hit send.

She scrunched her nose, sticking out her tongue at you before picking on her colors. You still can’t forget how dead Satoru looked when he dropped Yui off. You wondered what he talked about with his mother that caused him to be like that. Even with the soft tone of his voice, you could hear roughness that probably came from the lack of sleep.

If it concerns you, then you definitely have to know. His mother probably said something bad about you, but you doubt that it’s affecting Satoru by how he was talking and looking at you. He just looked so done with all of it, but even so, there was still a tender look in his eyes when they met yours.

You sighed while looking at your phone as you waited for a text from Toji. He’s been so busy with work lately, you’re just glad that you already talked about your problems. You had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well had it stayed unsaid for a couple more days. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least, you’re both trying to make it better for each other.

“I would try,” He whispered to your ear as he hugged you from behind, “I can’t promise not to think of her–“ You turned around, looking up at him with a solemn look in your eyes, “I’m not asking you to not think of her, that’d be selfish of me.” He nodded, kissing your forehead, “Alright, what I mean is, I won’t make any comparisons.” You hummed.

“I need you to stop worrying about Satoru and I.” You put your head on his chest, “I know it’s easier said than done, but I just want you to know that I am with you.” Your fingers traced figured on his skin, “I’m keeping that in mind.” He placed his cheek on top of your head, sighing deeply as he let go of you.

“I’m taking Megumi to my Mom’s.” He pushed your hair back with his fingers, making your eyes flutter close as you felt his face get closer to yours and his breath ghosting on your lips. “I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips, “Take care, I love you.” He murmured as he gave you a long kiss, before turning to get their stuff.

One thing that you notice about Toji is that he never waits for you to say anything back. You don’t want to take the words lightly, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the same way as him. You still have a long way to go, and you don’t want to rush anything. When you mention it to him, he just says that he needs you to hear it.

“Mama, look!” Your daughter pulled you out of your head as she showed you a picture of a cat, “Dada buy Yui.” You looked closely at the picture, laughing as you realized that she was talking about the cake that they ate. “Yeah, you're right! That's what Dada bought you!.” You patted her head as she giggled.

“Yui, baby. Did meemaw come to see you?” You held her small hands, trying to keep her attention to you. “No. No meemaw.” She pulled at your hair gently, trying to color it with her crayons. “What about…what about Naomi?” You can’t help but chuckle as she pretended to think, eyes looking up as she pouted her lip.

“No Naomi!” Her answer gave you a bit of an insight. You would assume that maybe she was just busy, but hearing about how Satoru’s mother reduced her workload made you doubt it. Satoru sent you tons of pictures during his time with her but you thought that Naomi just wasn’t in the frame.

If the ‘talk’ between her and Satoru didn’t end well, you could only assume that he already told her about it. He’s probably down because he wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. With all the progress Satoru has made, you doubt that he’d be so happy to have broken a heart. She was still once a friend to him.

A heavy feeling settles in the middle of your chest, like an anchor weighing your heart down, thinking about how his mother would probably find a reason to drag you for it. But if that’s the case, you’re sure that Satoru wouldn’t let harm come to you.

With how gentle Naomi was, you couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.

——————————————

“What did she do this time?” His father looked away, clicking his tongue. If one would ask Satoru, his parents would’ve probably divorced years ago if it weren’t for him. His father knows how he is with his mother, and the thought of giving him a hard time switching between the two of them pained him.

Satoru wished that he thought about it too before he decided to go and selfishly start over with someone else. Your words the night he confessed to you echoed in his head. He came to a realization that you probably wanted to ask him to come back but held yourself back as he let you know how happy he was with Naomi.

And he was happy. But just like his father, he was never the happiest.

“I don’t really know how to open this up to you…” He bit his lip, “…But I just want this to be over, Dad.” Satoru felt so vulnerable at that moment. The only time he had a talk this serious with his Dad was when he found out about your pregnancy. It was just more of a news, unlike right now, which is a call for help.

“Naomi…Mom and Naomi talked about…” His father’s eyes coaxed him as if sensing his distress. “Naomi tried to…” Shaking his head, Satoru breathed out. “Naomi wanted to conceive. Because our relationship was falling apart.” He can see his Dad’s brows pull together to a scowl, probably getting a hint of what happened.

“She talked to Mom about it and she…” The man sat up straight, bouncing his leg like he already knew what his wife did. “She said Mom brought up the thing about how you and him got together.”It was hard to talk about this to his father, knowing how sensitive it can be for him. “Naomi told me about it. I recorded it, just in case—”

“Satoru, what did your girlfriend do?” Satoru looked down, fingers fidgeting like he was a kid again. “And your mother’s involved? What happened?” Rubbing his face, Satoru threw away all his fears. If he’s not going to fix these problems, then who will? “She got me drunk, and then she tried to sleep with me.” He blinked fast, watching his father’s face.

“I heard her talking to Mom on the phone, and I took it from her. That’s how I found out that she played a part in all of it.” It was hard for him to accept. The person he used to protect, the one he always tried to understand was the same person who betrayed and put him in this position; the position that also made his father the person he is today.

Another long silence surrounded them. His father’s hand was balled into a fist, covering his mouth as he blankly stared at the marble surface. “Where’s Naomi?” His father pulled out his phone, and Satoru could tell just what he was about to do. “I don’t know. I’m sending her things away. I’m cutting her off. I’m filing a protective order against her and mom–“

Satoru didn’t get to finish his sentence before his father spoke again, probably finally taking in the information he just provided him. “I’m divorcing your mother.” His mouth fell half-open. His voice was low, serious, and full of all the grief that he’s been feeling for years ever since he lost his first wife and son. “And I’m sending that woman to jail.” He added, raising a finger.

“There’s…I don’t want that.” He breathed out, earning a questioning look from his dad. “You don’t have to send her to jail. I…I messed up if I just told her that I still have feelings for Y/N, then she wouldn’t have resorted to that. She wouldn’t have talked to Mom and this wouldn’t have happened.” He stood up, leaning on the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Satoru thought about it too when he caught her in the act. But after some reflection, he realized his shortcomings, his mistake of not just telling her about what was really going on. Even though there was no excuse for what she did, Satoru can’t help but feel like he’s the one who caused all of this to happen. And he probably really is; a victim of his foolish choices.

“But other than that, I don’t want Y/N and Yui to be caught up in this. I don’t want to expose them to this kind of problem, they’ve been through so much because of me already. I just want to do better this time.” Thinking about dragging you into another mess made Satoru feel weak. He promised to make it up to you, and he’d do anything to prove that.

His father put his phone down on the table, taking in a deep breath just to calm himself. “But you’re not stopping me from divorcing your mother.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right to agree to that. It felt like he was encouraging the separation of his parents; celebrating his mother’s heartbreak.

But his father’s been suffering heartbreak for years. It’s only fair to set him free.

“It’s up to you. I…” Satoru shook his head, sure of the decision he was about to make. “...I don’t think I can just forgive and forget what she did. It’s not something small, and I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” His eyes itched, ready to let his tears go any minute. “I don’t even know if I still want to be associated with her.” He turned away, sighing as he blinked away his pain.

When he and Naomi went for the examination, he made her spill all the details regarding the said conversation with his mother. It took everything in him not to fly into a rage while breaking down as he heard of it. All this time, his mother saw him as a pawn to keep his father, regardless of whose life she was tearing down; Satoru’s, his father's ex-wife, and his first son.

“I wanted to take you away when you were a kid.” His father admitted, looking ahead as he reminisced of the decisions he made. “I wanted to just take you and raise you with your brother. Of course, with the hopes of getting my ex-wife back.” He leaned back, tapping on the screen of his phone. The bitter tone in his voice can’t be missed.

“That was my plan when I found out about you. But when you were about a year and a half old, she disappeared. All I knew was she was…tired; drained of all the chaos that our son and her were exposed to. What with having to co-parent with me as I was with your mother.” His eyes played the emotions he chose to hide away many years ago.

“I know you know about this. She and I got divorced. I thought it was over for us, I thought I made the right decision to turn away and try another start. And I was dating your mother. Then we had you.” His arms were crossed and Satoru could almost see the similarities between his feelings to how he used to feel about yours and his relationship.

“Then, realization came running for me; haunting me in my sleep. I was ready to get her back again, but it was too late. She was already gone.” Satoru absently poured water for his Dad, listening intently to his story. “So, I felt like the only thing to do was to marry your Mom. I reminded myself that still have you, I can’t just spiral down.” He smiled at Satoru.

“I tried to convince, tried to brainwash myself that it’d be fine. That I could learn to love her and I did. Just not the kind of love that lovers have.” If his mother could hear his Dad right now, she’d get shattered. Satoru doesn’t want to see that, but she would have to. She has to understand that she’s putting this man through.

“I loved her because she loves me; because she cares for you and me.” Leaning over to pick up his glass, he looked his son in the eyes. “But true love is unconditional, Satoru. It should not have a reason.” He took a sip, pursing his lips before continuing. “Reasons might vanish, and when it does, so will the love you feel for that person.”

In the middle of it all, Satoru could only think of you. Why does he love you? When did he realize that he loves you? How did it happen? He doesn’t have an answer for it. He cannot find a reason for it. He doesn’t remember loving you just because you put up with him, he doesn’t remember falling for you just because of the life you created together.

All that he knows is that one day, he woke up and he already knew that he was in love with you. Like he’s been doing it for years; like that’s all he’s ever known.

—-------------------------------------------------

“I’ll keep in contact with you regarding the proceedings.” Satoru’s father spoke on the phone, stepping inside his mansion and smiling at his helpers. He asked Satoru if he wanted to have a word with his mother but the thought of having to look at her after what she tried to make his ex-girlfriend do makes him feel dizzy.

“Honey, you’re home.” The woman tried to welcome him with a kiss and open arms but he quickly turned his head, rejecting her. “Come up to my office, we got something to talk about.” The mask of a loving wife was quickly covered with fear and dread.

“What about in our room? So, you can rest.” She nodded her head once, trying to coax him but he was tired of closing his eyes and numbing his heart from feeling the pain and regret of having to lose the love of his life for the comfort that this woman offered him before. “In my office. It’s not a small matter that I could sleep on.”

Leaving the woman baffled, he made his way upstairs, not waiting for her to walk beside him. There was a deafening silence in the big room, save from the footsteps of her husband and the door of his office slamming with such force that it sent a crack in her heart.

She took a deep breath and ran her palm on top of her dress, thinking of all the reasons she could give him just to prove her innocence. She didn’t want any of that to happen. She didn't think that Naomi could be so dumb as to come up with such a heinous and unpleasant plan.

That wasn’t even what she did to Satoru’s father. It was just working to keep them together. And that’s why Satoru came.

With her found determination, she held her head high. Swallowing the terror rising up her throat as she let her thoughts convince her that she did nothing wrong. She never explicitly told Naomi to do that, she’s the one who schemed that. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

She walked up the stairs, caressing the smooth, cold surface of the handrail. Satoru wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He’s her boy, her pride and joy. He’s the only ally she had when his father was openly pushing her away.

Satoru wouldn’t just ruin what she and his father had because of baseless information from his sick girlfriend. Entering the office, the man sat on his swivel chair. Forehead pressed to the heel of his hand. “What is it, dear?” She smiled sweetly at her husband, appearing unaware of what he had in mind.

Oh, how she wished she was just unaware of it all. She wished that she didn't know what the problem was. She wished it wasn’t what she thought it was and that she was just overthinking because of how– “I want a divorce.” Those four words halted the spinning of her world.

“What?” She raised her brows, checking if it was just her mind playing tricks on her and making her hallucinate. “I want a divorce. And I want it as soon as possible.” His eyes no longer held any emotions towards her; no sadness, bitterness, fading love. None. Not even pity.

“Listen, honey, I didn’t think that Naomi would do–“ She took quick steps towards him, hoping to get him to listen. “So, you knew about it?” He glared at her, “You knew about it and you didn’t tell me anything?” He shook his head, and she could only open her mouth.

“Doesn’t matter. Satoru told me everything.” He stood up from his seat, towering over her as he stared her down. “It’s nothing like that–“ She breathed out, panicking. “I’m not really interested in what you told Naomi. I’m just thankful that my son’s safe.” He stepped away from her.

“What I want to do right now, is to be free from this.” It’s over for her. All the alibis that she was composing, thinking of for this moment are useless. He doesn’t need an explanation, this was simply the final push that he needed to kick her out of his life. And probably out of Satoru’s too.

“Please, don’t do this. We’re already too old to–“ She tried to grab his hand and he only grabbed it with the other to put it away. “You’re right. We’re too old, our son’s too old for me to still pretend that we want to be in this position.” Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, listen. I wouldn’t do something that could harm–“

“I know,” His voice was calm. “Of course, to harm him wasn’t your intention, right?” She nodded eagerly, thinking that he was finally listening to her. “But you wanted to decide for him. You got in between him and Y/N, then pushed this woman on him because you thought you knew best for your son.” Tears fell down her eyes, and she lost all hope.

“Now, look at what you did to him.” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward to get her out of his way. “But this is not just about our son anymore. This is also about me, finally choosing to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Opening the door, he spoke to her one last time. “All you have to do is sign. The actions that your son will take is all up to him.”

With that, he left her with all of the nightmares of their past coming back. How he only wanted the best for his sons, how he wanted to take full custody of Satoru, how he wanted to get back together with his ex-wife, and how he only married her because she was gone. She was never the first option. She was never the original pick.

She wasn’t chosen, she just happened to be already there.

—————————————

“Hey,” You heard Satoru speak as Toji opened the door for him, nodding. This was kind of similar to how they first saw each other but you’re just glad that this time, it’s a lot calmer. Megumi ran to his father, peeking up at Satoru as he waved at him.

“Yui, your Dada’s here.” Toji left the door open to let Satoru in. Megumi was holding onto his pants, staring back at Satoru. “Yui Dada,” He picked his toy up, staring at a distance before walking closer to him. “Blue!” You laughed from the kitchen, as you packed some snacks for the little girl.

Today, you’re going to the zoo as Yui requested. The animal drawings from her coloring book got her asking you to call her Dada late at night, just to babble about it. “He’s referring to your eyes,” Toji spoke as he went back to the living room to pick up some of the toys.

“Megumi, it’s not good to point at people, what did I tell you?” He warned the toddler as he went back to your room, eyes meeting yours as you made your way to Yui's room. “Ah, yes. Yui and I have the same eyes.” Satoru smiled at the child.

“Dada!” Yui ran towards him, stomping her shoes extra hard to show him how they light up with dancing colors. “Woah! Did Mama buy you those shoes?” He opened his arms, urging the little girl to run to him and she happily did, giggling as she nodded. “It’s awesome!” You smiled at how he tried to flatter his child, encouraging her to do a little jump.

“Where are we going today?” You asked her in a playful tone as you put the lunch bags on the coffee table in front of them. “Zoo!” You watched a Satoru give her a sincere smile, patting her hair gently while complimenting her little butterfly clips. “I’m sure Megumi’s been to the zoo before.” He poked the little boy's tummy.

“Yeah. Animals. Bears and lions.” He stood behind you, peeking at Satoru as he talked. Megumi isn’t usually shy, but he doesn’t easily warm up to people. “We went there on his second birthday.” You almost jumped at Toji’s voice behind you as he picked up his child. “He’s a smart kid.” Satoru answered with a friendly smile.

“You guys should come. If you want..” It surprised you that he was initiating something like that. Although, you know that Toji wouldn’t be so comfortable with that and would most likely reject the offer, it’s still nice to see that Satoru’s trying to make an effort to get along with him.

“That’d be nice but his grandma's waiting for him,” Toji answered, chuckling awkwardly. “Dada work,” Megumi added, earning a hum from his Dad. Making sure that the bag is packed with everything Yui needs, you zipped it up. “You ready to go now?” You tapped the toddler’s cheek, feeling Satoru’s gaze at you.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Standing up with his daughter in his arms, he took the bag from your hands. He put the toddler down to hug her friend goodbye, before walking hand in hand with her outside. You laughed at how she kept squealing with each step she took, looking up to see her Dad’s reaction.

“You guys have fun, alright? I’ll just lock the doors before we go.” Toji pulled you to him, giving you a kiss. “I’ll be back later.” You put your hand around his neck, standing on your tippy toes before pecking his neck. With that, you walked out the door to join your toddler who was patiently waving at you from her car seat.

“Okay, it’s zoo time!” You wiggled your brows at her as you slammed the door shut, making her giggle. You checked your face in the mirror, trying to ignore Satoru’s soft eyes as he watched you. “How are you?” You tried to start a conversation but it was quickly interrupted as you searched around for your daughter’s binky.

“Maybe we left it inside,” Satoru spoke, opening Yui’s bag to help you find it. “Yui, where did you put it?” Remembering how she placed it on the coffee table as she showed off her outfit to her father, you started to unbuckle your seatbelts but Satoru stopped you. “It’s alright, I’ll get it.” He was already stepping out of the car before you could stop him.

Satoru jogged up your steps, knocking a few times before proceeding to open the door. Toji was just about to open it for him when he entered, “It’s Yui’s pacifier. She left it.” He put on the most polite smile he could muster, wanting nothing but to get rid of the awkwardness between them if they were both going to be in your life.

“Oh, alright. I thought it was someone else.” Toji let out a rather awkward chuckle, not knowing how else to react or what else to say. But just as Satoru uttered ‘thanks’, Toji remembered the thing he’s been thinking of for almost a week now. “Uh, Satoru,” He called, making him pause as he held the door open.

Her brows raised, waiting for him to say something. Toji doesn’t know if you’d be happy about this but it’s better than just letting his feelings, thoughts, and opinions all pile up inside of him. This is for you and Yui. Not just for him.

“I’ve been thinking about our situation with Y/N and… I was wondering if you could set aside a bit of your time for a chat?”

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[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

[tonycries]

Love Is Blind

Synopsis. Boys who don’t take their glasses off until after they eat you out. Face stuffed desperately between your thighs and nose-deep in your cunt, he knows his glasses are bound to get dirty - but that’s half the fun.

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cunnilingus, oral sex (female receiving) he’s a bit mean but sexy, glasses kink (??!!?), pet names (angel, baby), swearing.

Word count. 1.2k

A/N. My way of coping with only being able to wear fake glasses.

Art by @_3aem on X.

Boys who don’t take their glasses off until after they eat you out.

His hair was askew, lips stinging, and glasses lopsided from the feral make-out session he’d pulled you into right as he walked in through that damn door. Kissing you as if your lips were the source of life itself.

He knows he’s being rougher than usual. Nails digging neat crescents into your pretty thighs as he bullies your legs apart on the cold kitchen counter. Pushing his glasses back up, he has to bite back a groan at your glistening cunt. Shit, all he did was throw you around a bit and you’re already so wet for him.

You’d been teasing him all morning before work. Wearing that damn short skirt - his favorite - and batting your lashes at him in a way you knew would have you bent over and stuffed full of his cock in seconds. 

Fuck whoever invented the work week, he’d rather stay in bed with his pretty girl till the neighbors file a noise complaint again. 

Yet, for the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you - fucking his fist pathetically in that dingy work bathroom - you were going to pay tonight.

Almost in a trance, he barely registers the pain as his knees hit the tile desperately, brows furrowed as if in the depths of prayer. Perhaps he was - lustful gaze looking over his frames to flicker indecisively between your half-lidded eyes and kiss-bitten lips, which move to whimper “Hngh- Baby, I need your mouth on me so bad.”

Ah, he really had a goddess splayed out and aching for him.

“Mm, oh really?” he breathes hotly over your quivering pussy, glasses slightly fogging up as he teases himself just as much as you. The slow torture was delicious. 

“Yes!.”

A smug smile spreads across his face. 

You flinch when the cold plastic of his glasses touches your throbbing clit as his face meets your cunt, tongue flattening against your swollen folds - not yet dipping inside. You gasp at the sensation, the lack of what you crave so badly.

He feels drunk off the pretty mewls escaping your mouth, mind almost hazy enough to go easy on you. Almost.

“Get my glasses dirty and you’ll be making up for it, angel.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your pussy that have it clenching around nothing.

Lewd squelches fill the air as his tongue slides teasingly between your folds in an unhurried rhythm that has your hips bucking for more. “Behave.” he warns, fingers holding your hips so firmly in place that he’s sure he leaves marks. 

“B-but…want you inside me. Want to come around your tongue, baby.”

Shit, you were so good at winding him up, knowing everything that makes him tick. 

But all he can remember is the little smirk curling around your lips as you bent over in that godforsaken skirt right as he was one step out the door on the way to an urgent meeting.

This time, he wanted to play with you a little more.

He breathes you in so sinfully as his nose catches on your pulsing clit, finally giving you an ounce of the friction you’ve been craving so desperately. 

“Hah- Don’t stop.” you beg.

Doing exactly the opposite, he pulls away, your slick forming a pretty gloss all over his bruised lips - dangerously close to where his glasses rested on his nose.

“Oh? Thought you were holding out on me, angel. Where did that go?” he cocks his head, chuckling at your frustrated whines. 

“I’m sorry baby. Hngh-” he cuts you off with a long lick dipping into your dripping hole playfully. 

“Yeah?” he hums.

“Yes.”

“Won’t make me pop a boner during meetings anymore?” he whispers, lips ghosting a hair’s breadth from where you needed him the most. 

“No- please! I’ll be good for you.” you sputter out.

Now, in all his years of loving you, he’s done everything he can so that you never shed a tear when you’re with him. Even going so far as to smother you in kisses to try and make you smile each time the dog dies in those damn sappy movies during date night.

But right now, the impatient tears that cling to your lashes at his actions make his cock twitch, a carnal part of him delighting in your desperation for him.

“Tell me what you want, my angel.”

“Fuck me with your tongue…please.” your whimpers send blood rushing straight to his already painfully hard cock. 

The heat of his tongue and the sex in the air as he dives nose-deep into your dripping pussy has condensation building up on his glasses. His tongue attacks your hole ruthlessly, dipping in and out at a pace that has you gripping the counter for support, “Ah! Yes! Keep going, baby.”

His lips make out with your dripping cunt with a lust that eclipses the need for air. A desperation for your essence. Who needs to breathe when he prefers to be smothered by his girl’s pretty pussy.

He moans around your entrance as your juices gush around his tongue, glasses pressing against his face when he pushes his face impossibly closer to your hot core. His eyes roll to the back of his head at your addictive taste. His favorite.

Yelps of his name leave your mouth at each tight circle of his tongue on your clit, only pushing him to suck harder. 

He relishes in how messy you are, slick now starting to drip around the corners of his mouth. Absolutely convinced that he’s losing more and more of his grip on reality at each tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor.

His glasses have now completely fogged up, forcing him to continue his abuse on your pussy through pure, feral need. Won’t be long now, he thinks at your breathless moans.

Your juices smearing all over his mouth and nose, he feels you clenching down on him as he ramps up the harsh movements of his mouth. “Jus’ like that. Shit, I’m gonna-” your mewls echo across the room.

You come fast and hard all over his mouth - and his glasses, as he had known you would.

His heavenly sight of your dripping cunt is now blurred by your slick covering the glass, dripping down the side of his frames and onto the kitchen floor. He could barely see a damn thing, but he knows he fucking loves it.

What is it that they say? Love is blind?

He chuckles lowly as you try and catch your breath, legs twitching in sensitivity on the counter. 

Slowly removing his glasses, he runs a finger along them, inspecting the mess his girl’s slutty pussy has made. He collects your sweet juices before popping a finger in his mouth - unable to help himself. 

He groans at the taste - shit, he should really make you taste yourself later. 

In the hazy aftermath of your orgasm, your dazed eyes follow him as he stands to his full height, towering above you. 

You see the slight curve of his grin before he deftly slides his glasses onto the bridge of your nose. Legs still spread and feeling the weight of his glasses, you feel so exposed - like you’ve fallen right into his trap.

“Now, now, angel…” he tuts, fingers unbuttoning his tight pants, cock straining for relief. 

“What did I say about dirtying my glasses?”

- GOJO, Nanami, Armin, TSUKISHIMA, KUROO, OIKAWA, Kunikida 

A/N. Pretend that Kuroo and Armin wear glasses okay. Also apologies if you saw this before, other post was being buggy and I’m still trynna figure stuff out.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[alvojake]

How about pirate! Jungwon and mermaid! Reader? You can make it dark and stuff. Up to you 😘

「notes」 : bless you and your thinking anony, this is such a *chefs kiss* idea, I actually had a lot of fun writing it!! also, I would like to dedicate this to two of my lovely moots hehe, @yeonzzzn & @wondipity. I hope this feeds into your jungwon brain rot

Midnight Lagoon | Y.JW

「paring」 : pirate!jungwon x mermaid!reader 「word count」 : 1.9k

「synopsis」 : what you and jungwon had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : unprotected sex (just don't), slight manhandling, teasing, cussing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, mentions of marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, crimson tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.

Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jungwon first found you.

It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.

So to say you were surprised when Jungwon found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off of you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the worst things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all. 

After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.

So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jungwon climbing off of the boat.

You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.

“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.

That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.

Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.

When Jungwon made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jungwon could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.

Jungwon’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.

“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jungwon’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.

“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jungwon's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss. 

“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “... I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.

“Won…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet. 

Jungwon wasted no time in laying your body flat on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jungwon chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.

“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.

“Wonnie, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jungwon smirked against your skin.

Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you. 

Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Won, please.”

He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.

He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of your skin hitting his and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jungwon couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix. 

Wonton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck- Won, I’m- shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.

“Won-” “Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jungwon loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.

“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again. 

“Won,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”

A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzznn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @ilovesubbymenn @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox

[moonstruckme]

Love love love the roommate james series! Thank you <3

Me too lovely! Thank YOU <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lightning strikes outside the window just before your laughter reaches James. He perks up, an electric current skittering down into his fingertips. He’s glad no one’s around to witness the way he swivels around on the couch to look out the window, searching for the source of the sound. 

Your key is in the lock a moment later. “Are you sure you don’t want me to run up and grab my umbrella?” you ask someone outside as you walk in. 

“No, thanks,” a male voice, sounding just as jovial as you do, responds. Without thinking, James stands up. “What’d be the point? I’m already soaked through.” 

“Seems like it’s really coming down out there,” James says, stepping into the doorway. You look over as though you hadn’t realized he was there. You’re sopping wet, hair dripping onto the floor and work clothes clinging to your body in ways James takes care not to notice. The man outside is similarly drenched, looking cold but remarkably happy as he takes shelter under the small awning outside your door. “You alright, mate?” 

“Good,” he replies, looking at James like he’s not sure if this is someone he’s supposed to be able to place. “And yourself?” 

“This is James,” you say, “my roommate. And this is Art, we work together.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Art sticks out a hand, shaking James’ firmly before retracting back out onto your doorstep. “I’d better get home,” he says to you. “See you Friday?” 

“Yeah.” You nod briskly, giving him a small smile as he turns around and goes. James shuts the door after him with a definitive thud. 

“Christ, love, aren’t you cold?” He fights the urge to set his hands on your arms and rub warmth into them. His friends are so touchy, it’s a bit difficult to adjust for someone who isn’t. 

“Yeah,” you admit with another little smile (James likes this one better, though he’s unsure why). Now that you’re standing still, you’re beginning to shiver. “Could you maybe grab me a towel from upstairs? Sorry to ask, I just don’t want to track water in.” 

James is already moving. “Don’t be sorry,” he chides as he climbs the stairs. 

As he looks for where you keep your towels, he can’t stop thinking about the thrilled way you and Art had looked at each other. Your ringing laughter outside the door. He’s happy you feel comfortable enough at your job to laugh and have fun with your coworkers, but he’s a bit hurt that you don’t seem to feel the same sort of ease around him. James has managed to coax a few smiles from you since he moved in, and a decent amount of laughter, too, but more often than not it comes with some resistance. He’ll catch you trying to conceal a grin, cutting your laugh off before it’s really begun. Then you’ll look at him like you’re embarrassed for being caught in a joyous moment. As if they’re something to be bashful about, and not something that lightens James’ heart until it threatens to float off and take him with it. 

He ends up grabbing both the towel and that giant sweatshirt you like, tossing the latter in the dryer on his way back to you. 

“Thanks.” You reach for the towel, but James wraps it around your shoulders himself. 

“Don’t mention it.” He breaks, giving the tops of your arms a couple of good rubs before stepping back and letting you take over. “Do you want something warm to drink?” 

Your eyes light up, but then you purse your lips. “I’m fine, thanks.” 

James gives you a look. 

You must really be in a good mood, because you crack easily. “Fine, a hot cocoa would be night-making,” you admit, grinning at him again. He wouldn’t be surprised if his chest was actually, visibly glowing. “Thanks, James.” 

“So,” he asks, hating himself just a little bit, “why did Art walk you back if neither of you had an umbrella?” He flicks on the kettle. 

“He lives nearby,” you reply. “We actually walk home together fairly often, whenever we’re both working at night.” 

James feels a stab of guilt. Of course, it makes perfect sense that you’d need someone to walk with you when you’re leaving work after dark. He feels stupid and inconsiderate for not thinking of it. 

“That’s nice of him,” he concedes. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of walking you home before. I could always come and get you.” 

A pause. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to. And please don’t be sorry, it’s not your issue to think about.” 

It feels like his issue. He wants to think about it. “Still. I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah, but for Art it’s on his way home. You’d have to go both ways.” 

James doesn’t care. For reasons he doesn’t understand and refuses to reflect upon, he wants to be the one who makes sure you get home safely. That’s got to be a typical roommate responsibility, right? 

“You forget, I have a car,” he says, pouring the hot water into two mugs. He stirs in the cocoa mix. “I could drive both you and Art, if you’d like. Could have saved you a lot of trouble on a night like tonight.” 

“I actually really love the rain.” Your voice sounds clearer, and James turns around to find that evidently you’ve dubbed yourself dry enough to walk around. You’ve squeezed most of the moisture out of your hair, but your lashes are still clumped damply. Your face shines. “We ran because we were worried about our phones, but it was fun.” 

“Well, glad your impending hypothermia was worth it.” He starts to push your mug towards you, then pauses. “Oh, wait just a second.” 

He quickly goes back to the dryer, getting out your warmed sweatshirt and bringing it to you. Your face when you see it makes James wish he had a camera, your eyebrows hooking upward and lips actually parting like he’s brought you a kitten rather than a sweatshirt. You’re truly in rare form tonight. 

“Oh my god, thank you.” You start to position the hole over your head, then hesitate. “Actually, would you—” Your bottom lip goes briefly between your teeth, a flash of that shy girl he’s been seeing less and less of lately. You wrap your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “I should probably take my wet clothes off. Would you mind turning around for a minute?” 

“Oh—yeah, of course.” James does. He covers his eyes for good measure, smiling to himself when he hears your amused little huff from behind him. Then there’s the wet sound of some item of clothing hitting the floor, and his smile fades. He can hear your skin shushing against fabric, your quiet breaths, the tiny sound you make when your clothes stick obstinately to your skin just for a moment before you peel them off. James feels somewhat warmer than he did a minute ago. 

“Okay, you’re good.” 

He turns around, and you’ve already got your hot cocoa in hand. Your sweatshirt hits at mid-thigh, sleeves covering the better parts of your hands that aren’t wrapped covetously around your mug. It takes a great deal of willpower not to look at the clothes piled on the floor and see if your underwear are among them. 

“This is really good,” you say, somewhat awkwardly. You’re looking at James bemusedly, used to him being the one who talks. 

He jumps back into his role. “I don’t know why you sound surprised. It always is, when I make it.” 

James leads the both of you into the living room, plopping down on the couch. You, of course, have the option of going upstairs to your room, but he knows you’ll follow. You sit down carefully, tucking your knees under the hem of your sweatshirt and resting your mug atop them. 

“So,” he says, reaching forward and unsticking a piece of hair from your eyebrow. You fluster but let him, and he smooths it behind your ear, “are you the type of person who likes to stay in and watch films when it’s storming, or do you only enjoy running about in them?” 

You hum into your hot cocoa. “I like a film.” 

“Perfect, then it’s your pick this time.” You start to protest, but James holds firm. “No, you’ve bullied me into picking the last three. It’s time to start pulling your weight around here.” 

It takes you a bit longer to relent, but finally he gets you to admit to a preferred film. As the intro credits are playing, thunder cracks outside, and an excited little shiver has you bringing up your shoulders. A smile, seemingly unconscious, ghosts over your lips. James grins in response. Cute. 

[mountainmoth]

I really want to stress here (as one duped):

It is not a moral failing on you if you didn't notice James Somerton Bad

His videos are well produced. His narration is convincing. He's a marketer, of course he knows how to make a video sell. His videos are impactful because the writing (stolen) is academic (and stolen) and emotionally moving (because they are stolen). The text is good, interesting text (as it is not his), of course he would be catapulted into high views. Of course people will be duped.

I for one feel very stupid at the moment because I was a long term fan of his. Being dyslexic a lot of sources were ones I had seen but couldn't really interact with, so when I heard James Somerton narrating them I didn't think anything of it. His woman bashing felt... Off, but surrounded by sensitive think pieces (from other people) on queer identity (that other people experience) I thought it was just one or two poorly phrased lines. His lie about Radclyffe Hall was one I spotted because I'm incredibly passionate about butch lesbian history. I assumed he misremembered. I'm saddened to see it compiled that it was not the case.

This sucks. It does. His video on deep cuts inspired me massively (and I'm thankful I now know who actually inspired me!): it got me into the Scream franchise, it got me into horror as a whole, it's collided me with some of my favourite media analyses (who I can now accurately name).

The most we can do from here is divert our attention now. Find the creators who were stolen from and spotlight their work. Watch the celluloid closet. Go through Hbomberguy's playlist on other gay creators (https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRGz5EMig3r2ZDgeGzwUlSz-PzF-L1Xu1&si=f63gIa7OS0aoS5RQ)! We can, ultimately, turn this around I think.