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whirlybirbs · 12 days

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— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development.

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun?

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago.

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide.

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest.

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent.

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence.

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time?

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown.

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care.

He isn't a villain-in-training.

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children.

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents.

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet.

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it.

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class?

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes.

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing.

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now.

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again.

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good.

Happy.

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time.

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto.

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero.

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good.

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever."

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk.

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher.

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember.

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing.

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle.

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute.

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all.

He hangs back.

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto.

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was.

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds.

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back.

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are... good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose.

And the underdog in question can read a room.

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions.

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment.

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell.

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?"

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy."

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog."

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya.

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?"

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath.

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates.

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful.

Fuyumi's contribution.

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back.

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine.

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables.

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A.

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks.

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass.

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy.

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him.

Until this morning, that is.

You smile into your drink.

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot.

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school.

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so.

It's adorable.

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home.

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it.

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you.

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss.

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen.

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you.

It's sweet.

Really sweet.

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit.

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there.

Your stomach does a flip.

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure.

Keep it together.

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years.

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment.

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park.

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly.

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest.

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now.

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment.

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone.

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful.

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together.

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face.

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did.

It shows.

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory.

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

And then you whimper.

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching.

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up.

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him.

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that?

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect.

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person.

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face.

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs.

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend.

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #touya todoroki #i LOOOOVE HERO TOUYA #HE IS SOOOOOO CUNTY

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elgaberino-mcoc · 2 years

Photo

MARROW has been added to the MCOC Wishlist

winner of #MCOCWishlistNameGame is @knullspaces (for this guess) who's had a win coming for some time!

Best wrong guess was X-cutioner by @guns_corey

Thanks for playing! Watch for the next game!

#Marrow #Summoner's Choice '23 #Gene Nation #X-Men #X-Force #Hellfire Club #Dark Riders #terrorist #hero #mcoc class mutant #recent rank #additions #female #villain #bone extrusion #mcocwishlistnamegame #Wishlist Cleanup #Coco Squad

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 3 months

Text

Tomorrow, I promise

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: a good love-quirk fic for Touya <3

Warnings: slighttt smut; tbh just more suggestive; language; this was written super quickly

Word Count: 3.7k

“I promise I’m fine,” you offer Magne a smile as you attempt to wriggle out of her grasp.

It seems to be in vain, though, the older woman continuing to fuss around you with a huff.

Unfortunately, it had been like this for the entirety of your journey back to the League's hideout. Thanks to Kurogiri's portal, the trek had been short, but an overwhelming one nonetheless.

The mission that you had been given was simple.

Break into building; take files concerning hero whereabouts in said-building; leave.

As usual, it did not go that easily.

In your defense, your group, consisting of you, Spinner, Toga, Twice, and Magne, had taken out the guards fairly quickly, despite the fact that Shigaraki had severely underestimated the abundance of said forces.

"It's a holiday, you'll be fine."

Clearly, the man was having trouble believing his own words, considering Twice would've never been brought on a purely stealth-based mission.

So you had dealt with it accordingly, fully expecting a moderately high amount of security, even on a day that most of the company's workers had off.

What you hadn't expected was the wide-eyed receptionist coming in to do overtime.

The cries of pain and ferocity overpowering your senses were almost enough to distract from the quivering leg stuck out from behind a desk.

Although you were technically considered a villain, you had enough self-respect to leave innocent bystanders out of your groups attacks on hero society, especially those that were so blatantly under-payed and overworked that they had to come in on a national holiday.

Despite the fact that the worker looked like they were about to keel over from fear any moment, you were able to take them by the arm and usher them out amidst the storm of violence surrounding you both.

You almost did it without any mishaps, too.

But it was when Magne hurled one of the guards into the wall in front of you that it all happened. His body was flung into the panels with a sickening crunch, one that had you contemplating whether or not it came from the broken wood or an arm.

Regardless of that fact that you were part of the squad wreaking havoc on their workplace, the receptionist wrapped their arms around you with a fearful screech. Which would have been fine, if not for the flare of light flickering throughout the room as their pinky brushed your bare shoulder.

You had quickly pushed them out of the room without a word, ignoring the worried glances of some of your cohorts as you continued taking care of security.

Unsurprisingly, the worker had scurried off by the time you all had finished.

And while you continuously insisted that you neither felt nor noticed anything of significance, Magne was far from convinced.

"Spinner said he'll figure out who that was and if anything happens we can just go ask."

"And what if you're dead by tomorrow?" The redhead mumbled in exasperation. "You kids aren't immortal."

"Not a kid, and I'm pretty sure I would know if I was dying," You paused, hand on the hideout's door. "And please don't say anything to Shigaraki. He'll just get pissed off."

She sighed, but nodded, followed by twin salutes from Twice and Toga, the ones you were honestly the most worried about. Spinner, although loyal to the League, wasn't anywhere near Shigaraki's biggest fan, so you weren't all that concerned.

And speak of the devil, your fearless leader was immediately spotted at the bar, nursing some drink that you silently suspected was dashed with a few tablespoons of that new blue raspberry liquor you and Twice had found on sale.

Earlier statements of "who would drink that radioactive looking shit" seemed to be forgotten as he downed the drink and turned toward your group. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," you replied, taking out a small pile of folders from your pack and tossing them on the table.

Toga skipped past you and tossed herself on the couch. "It was boring."

The teen continued on about how Spinner wouldn't let her take one of the guards back to drain throughout the rest of the week, her voice effectively drowning out the soft creek of aged wood under black leather boots.

"Took you long enough."

You turned to meet Dabi's usual snarky remark with one of your own, eyes locking with his as you froze in place.

He arched an eyebrow, watching the annoyance melt from your features. "See something you like, princess?"

In all honesty, when you began walking over to him in silence, he was about eighty percent sure that you were going to smack him. While the nickname he had bestowed upon you was a possible factor, he had been known to possess quite the track-record for getting on your nerves, so he wouldn't exactly have been surprised if it was for something he had forgotten about.

He was absolutely flabbergasted, however, when you stopped right in front of him, grasped his face between your hands, and pulled him downward into a kiss.

A wave of campfire washed over your senses, leaving the faintest smell of mint in its wake. Each scent had a way of combating one another, pushing for dominance yet melding together in a way that was absolutely intoxicating. The way it filled your lungs was nothing less than addicting.

The softness of your lips against his left Dabi stunned silences, pupils blown open in shock. Realization only seemed to occur when he forced the groan bubbling up his throat away, trying his best to ignore the way your fingers tangled through his darkened locks.

As you pulled back, his urge to drag you forward once more was heinous. Especially so as you offered him a smile, sweet enough to make a man's knees buckle and one that he had certainly never seen from you.

Seemingly able to ignore the gaping stares coming from the rest of the League, you lifted your heels off the ground, snaking your arms around Dabi's neck as tugged him into a hug. Your breath tickled his ear as you whispered, "I missed you."

He blinked, eyes narrowing in a mixture of bewilderment and suspicion as he drew back from your hold. "What the hell happened to you?"

But dammit, if he didn't immediately regret it.

It had been quite a bit since he had actually felt bad about something, but the hurt dancing in your expression made him feel nauseous.

And that pout?

Absolutely leathal.

Magne was the first to say something, that of which being a small, "Oh, dear."

Maybe it was the apprehensive tone lacing her voice, or he just needed someone to yell at, but it was Magne who was the victim of Shigaraki's demands for someone to tell him what was happening.

The group listened to her explanation, the soft drill of the air conditioning and fire crackling in the corner meeting the moments of silence in between each thought. While the rest of your cohorts landed on the calm agreement regarding some sort of love or feelings-based quirk, your leader seemed to be quite piqued at this unexpected problem.

“And you didn’t think to find them or something?” Even with the severed hand covering his face, Shigaraki's annoyance was evidently apparent.

“That worker was gone by the time we were out! And she," Toga lifted a hand from the couch, lazily flicking it in your direction, "said she was fine."

Arms crossed, you backed away with a huff. "I am fine!"

“Ha!” Twice stuck a finger towards the man beside you. "When's the last time she looked at you like that?"

"Oh, come on," Dabi rolled his eyes before turning towards you, gripping your chin between two fingers. "You don't hate me that much, right, doll?"

You giggled, shaking your head in response.

A fucking giggle.

"This is grossing me out," Shigaraki spun his bar stool away from you both with what you guessed to be a scowl. "Spinner, fix this."

"On it."

It was maybe an hour before your green-skinned ally knocked on your door, saying that he'd found the workers information, along with an address to a small apartment on the East side of the city.

And a demand for Dabi to come with him.

"Go figure it yourself."

The second victim of this curse was enjoying himself quite a bit.

Especially when you had grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your room, sat him down on the bed and promptly found your own seat on his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck. Your free hand was holding up your phone, thumb scrolling upward through a of feed of animal videos.

Was this really what you did in your free time?

There was something ridiculously innocent about it, a far cry from the persona you wore while interacting with the League.

Cute.

It was getting more and more difficult, however, to ignore how increasingly annoyed he was becoming at the current situation.

Despite his best efforts, he had begun to care about you. Initially, he thought you were hot, sure, but actual feelings were out of the question.

At least that's what he thought for the first few weeks after your meeting.

With every flirtatious remark and witty retort you threw back in his direction, you had somehow managed to worm your way through his pre-constructed mental walls.

And maybe if he hadn't actually cared about what you thought of him, he would've been able to enjoy this a little more.

Or if anything he would've been able to look forward to making fun of you for this little debacle later on.

But something about ruminating on the fact that it took a love quirk to make you even smile his way left a sour taste in his mouth.

What on Earth had you done to him?

Actually, now that he thought about it, taking care of this little twerp might do him some good. Lighting stuff ablaze was an easy form of stress relief, regardless of how much he denied the sulking. And being left to stew in his emotions next to a version of some relationship with you he would never be able to achieve definitely wasn't an option.

"Never mind, you'd probably just screw it up anyway." He lifted you off of his lap, trying to ignore the longing glance you shot his way. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't do anything stupid and don't get yourself killed. Can you do that for me, doll?"

Tossing your phone onto the bed, you nodded, moving your head to rest on your hand as a physical teller of your dejection.

Surprisingly, this version of you was quite clingy, not that Dabi minded at all. He craned his neck to the side, taking a moment before finding himself fairly satisfied with your answer. "Good girl."

You blinked, the tightness in your jaw loosening slightly as your line of sight trailed down to the floor. Your thumb met your ring finger as you began to fidget, nails getting caught on one-another as they slide over with a clack.

The little act was easy to recognize, seeing as you indulged in the nervous act regularly often. It was usually before missions or something similar, an obvious teller of nervousness. Sometimes he'd go as far as to slap, albeit gently, one hand away from the other.

It did take him a second, though, to recognize that this instance you were flustered, which was quite a good look on you.

The corner of his lips twisted upward into a smirk.

He was screwed.

•

"This them?" Dabi shrugged towards the receptionist, who was currently cowering in the corner of their home bathroom, and waited for Spinner to nod in assurance before bending down to meet their line of sight.

Three minutes ago, they were doing perfectly fine, although a bit shaken up from the events that occurred earlier that afternoon.

The worker recognized the reptile-looking one, but definitely couldn't place the man with scars and black overcoat, at least not from anywhere that wasn't on the news or something similar. Although they never made a habit of keeping up with those types of things, it didn't make the man any less horrifying.

Waves of power wafted amidst the smoke folding over his fingers. Despite that demeanor of nonchalance, something akin to anger danced within the blue of his eyes.

That alone was enough to send the worker into the washroom, the door bolted shut. Of course, it didn't take much effort for the two intruders outside to fix that.

"I promise I haven't told anyone," they wheezed.

Dabi clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Uh-huh. You hit my girl with your quirk."

Spinner grimaced in disgust. "Don't call her that."

"How do you fix it?" The man in black inquired, completely ignoring that order from behind him.

"I didn't mean to I promise! Sometimes it just goes off when I'm super nervous..." tears were streaming down their face at this point, a slimy pit of horror beginning to bubble in their stomach. "But it should wear off in less than a day, I swear!"

Cerulean eyes narrowed, Dabi turning around to get Spinner's input and earning a lazy shrug in return.

"If they're lying we can just come back." His words drew a small whimper of fear from the receptionist. "If all goes well, she'll hate you again by tomorrow morning."

"You?" Dabi turned back around to face the worker, eyes blazing in a way that left them shaking in the corner. "I'm s-sorry! I just wouldn't have guessed that you would've been the other one affected."

He scoffed, ignoring sharp sting the jab of the words left in his chest. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought it was a 'first person you lock eyes with' situation or some shit like that."

"Uh..." This was the first time that the worker looked anything other than utterly terrified. Their lower lip curled inward, hiding from under their top row of teeth in a way that someone could only view as embarrassment. "Not really..."

Cocking his head to the side, Dabi cocked an eyebrow, expression laced with boredom as he waved a hand for the worker to continue.

"Well.. you kind of, umm... have to have feelings for the person already to get affected."

A pause.

"What?"

"Uh, yeah... And I was just surprised since you're kind of..."

'Scary' is what would've finished that statement, though they didn't exactly feel as though insulting a wanted criminal was the best move.

Honestly, on any given day they probably would have been fried for even starting that sentence, but Dabi seemed to have set his mind to other things.

"So everything that somebody says, when they're under your quirk or whatever, they mean all of it?"

"All of the emotions or thoughts are real, they just get really intensified." They nodded once more. "Please don't kill me."

Dabi took a moment to think, giving the words time to steep among the heat of his emotions before allowing his expression to darken, a heinous smirk twisting at the corner of his lips.

In all honesty, that grin made the receptionist want to vomit. Wicked glee seeped over his features like a toxic gas.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. I'm feeling charitable," Dabi responded, re-adjusting the cuffs of his jacket as he stood. "Spinner, we're leaving."

•

It wasn't long before they arrived back to the hideout.

Night had fallen at that point, a blanket of navy encasing the universe with its darkness. Still, when Dabi knocked on your door, he was immediately greeted with arms around his neck.

Pulling back, you noticed the calculating expression painted over a usually nonchalant gaze. “Is everything okay?”

Bending forward, he placed a small kiss on your forehead. "Peachy." If anything else, the grin you offered him in return made that little detour to that shitty apartment worth it. Hands sliding behind your thighs, he picked you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you over to the bed. "I do have some questions, though."

As he sat down, you still straddling his lap, Dabi took a moment to let his gaze trail over your body.

Or, more specifically, the absolutely sinful set of pajamas covering it.

A pair of sapphire blue shorts barely covered skin of your upper thigh. Still, the garment was loose fairly, allowing it to ride up just slightly enough to tighten his pants. The similarly colored top was cut perfectly, sleeves short and fabric thin enough to clearly display the arch of your nipples underneath.

"Fuck, do you always wear stuff like this?"

You blinked, line of sight following his. "I guess so. The AC sucks in here," you chuckled, sliding off of his lap. "If you want, I can get changed."

Just as you turned away towards the dressing, Dabi's hand snaked around your wrist, pulling you back into his chest with a yelp.

"Not happening." His arm slid around your waist, thumb toying with the band of your sleep shorts. "So how long have you liked me, then?"

"For a few weeks, I think," You replied, taking a moment to think. "You annoy me sometimes, but I don't really mind."

He snorted.

"I'm serious! I..." Dabi watched you bite your lip, eyes wavering in apprehension. "I was actually also wondering if you wanted to have se-"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"That's okay," you waved him off, the downturn of your lips betraying the idea that you truly didn't mind. "I understand if you wouldn't want to..."

"Shit," he groaned, shifting forward to push you back onto the bed. "It's taking a whole lot of self control to not fuck you right now."

"Then why why don't you?"

"Because it'll be so much more satisfying to watch you whimper and beg for me tomorrow." Dabi moved above you, placing a hand beside your face on each side. He drew his right knee forward, placing it between your thighs just barely enough to make you squirm. "Understand?"

A groan escaped you as you shifted your hips against his leg.

"Fuck. I didn't know you were such a slut."

The look on your face was like nicotine, purely addictive in all the wrong ways. The way your eyes rolled back, the slight quiver running across your lower lip had his cock tightening, enough to know that if this continued, he'd do something he would regret.

Patience was said to be a virtue, although he never exactly enjoyed those in general.

Dabi moved back, taking that sweet, soft pleasure with him and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Tomorrow, doll."

One foot off the bed, ready to leave, he felt a wrist wrap around his own.

"Can you stay though?" You looked up at him through your eyelashes. "Please?"

With that look, you could've asked him to eat his boot and he would've said yes.

You looked so innocent and sweet.

So fucking needy.

"Move over."

You woke up warm the next morning.

It was well past whatever normal, productive time-frame you usually adhered to, you knew that much. It had been the best sleep you'd had in a while, filled with blissful darkness and soft silence.

Still, it didn't seem to feel like it.

Head spinning, you slowly opened your eyes, allowing yourself to register your surroundings. Your first thought was that you were still dreaming. It didn't take long for your heart to drop, jaw tightening as you realized what was happening was real.

To your utter horror, you seemed to be cuddling with Dabi. Your arms were wrapped around his chest, a leg straddling his abdomen like a body pillow.

"Morning, doll."

You practically flew backward, trying to get as much distance between you and Dabi without falling off the bed completely. The arrogant smile slowly painting his features left a nervous hole in your chest. "What happened?"

He yawned, sitting up in bed before resting his face on the palm of his hand. "Don't worry, doll. We haven't slept together. Yet."

"I'm sorry?" You sputtered.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lip. "Take your time."

Eyes narrowed, you took a moment to recall what happened last. Slowly but surely, the memories started flooding back, heat creeping into your cheeks in tandem.

"I... that wasn't... fuck." Whatever pitiful explanation you had tried coming up with got stuck in your throat, weighed down by the pit of humiliation sitting in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up, hidden away from the cerulean eyes watching in amusement.

"Aww, is someone getting shy?" Dabi stood, strolling forward to meet your line of sight. The way he looked at you felt predatory, enough to send a shiver down your spine. Still, it was better to focus on that than the warmth growing in your lower abdomen. "I thought we were passed that. You definitely weren't feeling nervous when you tried to suck my face off yesterday."

You swallowed. "That was because of the quirk."

"Liar." He pushed your body backwards, allowing it to fall onto the sheets before crawling over you. A grin spread across his features, as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to mock your tone. "Please, Dabi, I'm so horny for you. I need you to fuck me with your monster cock-"

"I did not say that!" Your hands slid up to cover your face, if somehow that would help quell the heat of your humiliation.

"Nu-uh, eyes up here, princess." One of his hands encased your wrists, bringing them together and above your head. "You basically said that."

"You're insufferable."

"You don't seem to have a problem with that." Dabi chuckled, craning his neck to the side to watch you squirm. Using his left hand, he grasped your chin, forcing it forward so your line of sight met his.

Your eyes traveled over his face, searching for some hint as to what he would say next. The blue in his irises burned in excitement.

"You ready to beg yet?"

#mha smut #bnha #mha #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x you #mha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha dabi #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #dabi smut

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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months

Text

Decided to share a piece I had written in 2019

Yandere Short Stories:

Heroes and Villains

Yandere lesbian supervillain x Afab Reader x Yandere Superhero x Yandere Heroine

A young woman fidgeted in her seat as she sat in a plush red love seat right outside the CEO’s office. The large black doors intimidating her as she began to sweat. The bunny keychain attached to her black purse jingling every time she shifted in her seat.

The young reported pulled out a compact mirror from her black purse as she checked her appearance again, making sure not a single hair was out of place to not offend the big bad boss of Domino Electric, the largest electricity company in the nation. The powerhouse of every major city’s power. The young woman had heard rumors that the CEO was a cold woman with a hell of a temper.

The young reporter was amazed to have this assignment rather than making a newspaper article on the rise of superheroes and the ever so popular super villainess, Electra.

Creak. The young reporter’s head snapped up as she quickly composed herself and placed her compact mirror back into her bag. A tall, slender woman stood before her as the assistant gave her a reassuring smile.

“Miss Spark is ready to speak with you now.” The woman raised a hand to the door with a bow as the young reporter shakily stood up and slowly made her way into the office, the door shutting quickly behind her, trapping her in the den of a lion.

The young reporter gulped as her (eye color) eyes stared at the figure of a tall, voluptuous woman with long, straight silver hair and a black dress suit on. The businesswoman soon turning around, revealing her beautiful, flawless dark skinned face and violet eyes. The reporter whole face flushed red when they made eye contact. She felt like a tiny rabbit in front of a wolf. Her knees shook as her (eye color) eyes glanced at the CEO’s plump lips and slowly trailing her gaze to the violet silk dress shirt the businesswoman had on under her black dress jacket.

“Sit down, Miss (last name).” The woman’s voice was cold and firm, the young reporter immediately sitting down as the tall woman sat in front of her. “I believe you have some questions for me?”

“Ah, y-yes...” the reporter reached into her back, pulling out a notebook and pencil as well as a voice recorder. “I’m so happy for this opportunity, Miss Spark-“

“You may call me Aria Spark since we are alone together.” The reporter nodded as she opened up the notepad and smiled at the businesswoman. “What is your name?”

“Oh, my name is (your full name).” (Your name) replies as she turned to the recorded. “Let’s start with the basics shall we?”

“What made you decide to be a businesswoman?”

“I lived in poverty as a child and wanted a better life for myself. So I climbed to the top by utilizing my skills.” Aria replied as (your name) smiled at her to continue.

“And what may those skills be?”

“I am very good with electrical work.”

(Your name) jotted Aria’s answers down as (your name) listened attentively to every word Aria replied to her questions. (Your nams) soon learned a lot about Aria’s childhood such as her old neighborhood being in the ghetto and Aria’ friends and family who either were no longer in her life or still very close. About how it was hard being a lesbian CEO without criticism and hate comments. Aria told (your name) she was bullied a lot throughout high school for being gay. Aria also wanted to become a businesswoman and make it to the top to prove that she wasn’t scared of people’s expectations of her. Aria was a very admirable woman.

And as the interview came to a close, (Your name) turned off her recorder as the reporter gave Aria another warm smile.

“Thank you so much for this interview, I will publish this in the magazine soon-“ Aria suddenly leaned forward, placing her hands across her desk to stand in front of (your name), caging the young woman in her chair.

“You should go out to dinner with me sometime. You’re really cute.” Aria then reached into her pocket and handed (your name) a business card with her name and number on it. “Call me whenever and we can go out.”

“I-I... Oh um, I think I should go-“

“You’re such a cute little bottom.” Aria chuckled as her violet eyes stared down at the smaller female through long silver eyelashes. “Makes me want to eat you.”

“I-I’m leaving! Have a good day!” (Your name) quickly scrambled away, accidentally dropping the bunny keychain as Aria picked it up. The violet eyed woman smiling at the cute rabbit.

“She’s just like a rabbit.” Aria smirked as she gazed out the door in awe. “And I’m going to have that little rabbit.”

“Miss Spark, I think you scared her away. I’ve never seen someone run so fast-“ the assistant paused as the businesswoman began to chuckle. “Miss Spark? Are you alright?”

“She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” A spark of lavender electricity surrounded Aria as she smirked.

“Miss Spark, I don’t know if you know her well enough to-“

“Maybelle, I want all her records and any other personal information you can find about her. I want the little rabbit girl-“

The assistant sighed as she bowed to her employer. “Right away, Miss Spark.” .

“So how’d the interview go, (Your name)?” A slender woman with long, black hair asked as (your name) flushes bright red. The Japanese woman had her jacket off, revealing her various tattoos and ever so prominent piercings, such as her prized septum ring.

“R-really good, Ryoko. It’s just-“

“Just?”

“I didn’t think she’d be so attractive!” (Your name) squeaked out loudly as everyone in the break room stared at the two women as (your name) flushes even more red. “S-she was so curvy and had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. And s-she asked me to dinner. Oh god I ran away from her, I-I’m so humiliated.”

The pale woman laughed at (your name) as the young reporter comically hid her face in her arms.

“Well, Miss Spark is clearly interested in you. Probably because you scream ‘bottom’-“

“Why does everyone keep saying that!”

“Because you’re like a cute little rabbit. So timid and shy. Easily flustered, you’re just really cute.” Ryoko told the (hair color) haired girl as Ryoko smiled, showing off her frenulum piercing. (Your name) began to fiddle with her fingers as she pressed them together.

“Do you think I should give her a call?”

“Well, do what your heart wants but we should leave, the pig is here.”

(Your name) turned her head to see the boss of their News media company, Metro Media, Jasper Jones. He was handsome for a man. Tall with a large muscle build, pale blue eyes, short wavy, sandy blonde hair, a chiseled jaw, and he had this tough guy vibe with a scar right across his nose. He was very handsome and he was a very driven man but-

“(Your name), there you are, I need you to see me in my office about your report.” His low voice rung out through the break room as he had his hands on top of the doorway, flexing his muscles through his white dress shirt as the other women swooned. All except (your name). She wasn’t interested in him that much. She didn’t understand what the other women found so great about him...

“Y-yes, mister Jones.”

“You can call me Jasper.” The man chuckled as (your name) tried not to cry at how much the male scared her. He constantly gave her compliments and although they were never stepping over boundaries, it was the way he stared at her. She has never met anyone who stared at her with eyes that felt as if they were undressing her. Jasper’s pale blue eyes gazed at her with such a burning intensity that (your name) felt as if she’d light on fire at any moment.

“Um, I prefer Mister Jones. I’ll talk to you once I’m done eating-“

“How about we go eat in my office-“ (Your name) gulped as she stared at her lap as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. She was so close to crying.

“S-sorry. Maybe another time-“

“Alright how about we go out tomorrow at the cafe next door to the building? My treat?”

“Um, okay-

“Hey, Mister Jones, (your name) is uncomfortable. Could you tone it down?” Ryoko stepped in as she stood between the two, her onyx eyes glowing gold for the briefest of moments as Jasper stood up and took a step back.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize I did. Sorry for not noticing (your name).” The girl merely smiled shyly as she stared at her lap. “I’ll see you in my office later.”

Jasper then turned to leave, flexing his back muscles as he did so, causing (your name) to look away in disgust.

“I don’t like that guy hanging so close around you.” Ryoko stared as she went back to her seat, her onyx eyes furrowing in worry as she gazed at (your name). “You need to be more assertive with your no’s. Just tell him that you’re not interested. I know you’re bisexual but seriously, it’s obvious you lean more towards women. Just tell him you’re gay or something. I’m sure he’ll get the hint then.”

“But I don’t want to make him u-upset. The look in his eyes scares m-me.” Ryoko frowned as she got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around her mousy friend, her body slowly heating up slightly as she glared at the door Jasper walked out of.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always protect you, (your name).” Ryoko stated as she pulled the (body type) girl close to her lean muscled body. Ryoko would always be there for (your name) because she was (your name)’s best and only friend. Ryoko wouldn’t let anything happen to her little bunny.

Jasper tried not to throw his desk across the room but he really wanted to. He has tried everything to make the timid (Your name) love him. He changed his hair style, started working out more, waxing off his unwanted body hair, and even offered her on dates. But Ryoko was in his way. His grip on his desk tightened as it began to frost over with a thin layer of ice. Jasper exhaled as the air in his office slowly began to drop in temperature.

To think his own partner in crime was in an intimate relationship with the cute girl drove him up the wall. (Your name) deserves the absolute best and that’s exactly what he would be. (Your name) could not possibly be gay, she was too cute to be!

(Your name) was the only one to not see him as a piece of meat and didn’t throw herself at him. She didn’t try anything to make him uncomfortable and respected his space and he absolutely loved it. (Your name) was so attentive to everything he talked about and she was so gentle.

Jasper remembered the time her hand grazed his hand when he dropped his papers in the elevator as she helped him collect all of his belongings. Her hands were so small and soft compared to his, Jasper swore his heart stopped. Jasper wondered if all of her was soft. He wondered if she thought of him the same way he thought of her. Jasper relaxed as the temperature and ice began to slowly dissipate as his fingers touched his lips as he released a sigh as he began to give into his delusions.

Did (your name) think of his lips touching her skin so lightly that it felt as if a butterfly landed on each spot his lips would touch? Did she think of Jasper laying beside her at night, holding her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear? Did (your name) want to ever date him?

Jasper clutched his chest as he felt his cheeks flush pink. He loved her so much. He still had so much to learn about her.

A quiet knock brought Jasper out of his musings as he cleared his throat and opened his office door, revealing his favorite reporter, a few of her (hair color) hairs out of place as she had a somewhat frazzled appearance. Did she run up the stairs to see him? Did she really want to see him that badly? Oh she was just so cute. Would she look like that if he made love to her?

“Oh, you’re here so quickly (Your name)! I was starting to think you weren’t going to come.” Jasper immediately pulled a chair out for her to sit down as he went over to get her a glass of water from the pitcher.

“O-oh. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Shall we go over my article I wrote?”

“Here drink some water, you look rather frazzled.” Jasper handed her the glass as she shyly took it from him, her fingers brushing his as Jasper tried not to make any inappropriate noises.

“Oh the elevator took too long so I decided to take the stairs. I am so sorry for my appearance-“

“It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you.” Just like she was happy to see him, or at least Jasper believed so. Why else would she run up the stairs to get to his office? To get her daily cardio? No, to see him, duh.

“Shall we begin?” Jasper did not listen to a single word she said, his icy blue eyes were too focused on her plump lips and wondering what they’d feel like against his as he pressed her against the wall and-

“Mister Jones?” Jasper snapped out of his musings as his blue eyes met (eye color) orbs. “It’s starting to get really cold in here.”

Jasper immediately realized he accidentally used his powers underneath his desk as his whole face flushed red.

“W-would you like a jacket? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“Oh um, thanks.” Jasper pulled his jacket off his chair as he wrapped it around (your name)’s shoulder’s, his breath hitching as her cheeks flushed slightly as she bundled into his warm oversized jacket.

Jasper didn’t think she could get any cuter but here she was... in his jacket. Oh lord he was trying so hard not to kiss her right there and then. To not bend her over his desk and tear off her clothes and make the whole department know his name-

“Thank you, Mister Jones.” Jasper placed his hand over his face as his whole face turned a bright red. Oh lord he was going to catch a case at this point. “I’m done with my report, I’ll leave the article here so you can go over it. Thank you for your time, here’s your jacket back-“

“Thank you, (your name). Have a good one!” As soon as she left his office and shut the thick mahogany doors, he fell to his knees as he grabbed his jacked and inhaled greedily. Oh lord it smelled like her. (Your name) smelled like roses and vanilla. She was just so sweet and he swore he’d make that sweet girl all his. Jasper swore on his life.

But first, he was going to add this jacket to his collection. Jasper stood up as he opened up his bottom desk drawer with his key, revealing numerous miscellaneous items that wouldn’t mean much to anyone but they meant the world to him.

There were numerous photos of his beloved darling sleeping and an old toothbrush. As well as a tissue, a spoon, and a chapstick he swiped off her desk when she was out and about. And although Jasper hates to admit it, he used the chapstick on rough days to satiate his needs.

He carefully folded up his jacket and placed it in the drawer as he locked his treasure chest. Jasper then reclined back in his desk chair as he smiled. Jasper couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow across a table from him eating.

Maybe this time he’ll get an even better Momento of her.

Jasper was unaware of the drone outside the complex snapping pictures of his entire interaction as the drone quickly took off, to bring the video evidence to its creator.

(Your name) strolled through the bustling city as she smiled. She was finally off from work so she could have some time to herself.

As the reporter walked down the street, she heard the screams of the other civilians as people began to scatter around as dark storm clouds covered the skies. (Your name)’s eyes widened. Electra was here.

She immediately began to flee until she felt arms wrap around her as she was pulled flush against a soft body.

“Why are you running, little rabbit?” A familiar voice asked as (you’re name began to shake in fear. “You’re so very cute when you shiver. I wonder if you’d shake like that when I-” (Your name) turned a bright red at all the horribly dirty words that came out of the woman’s mouth behind her.

(Your name) was quickly whipped around to face her captor as her (eye color) eyes took in a tall villainous with long silver hair and a black eye mask on as well as a tight black and violet jumpsuit with a long black cape. She looked so familiar...

(Your name) didn’t have time to study the super villain before the villainous pulled her close and surrounded the two of them into an electrical barrier as a flaming hot (literally) heroine stood outside the barrier.

A lean heroine stood outside the barrier, her flaming hair standing straight up as a dragon mask covered her face and her red leotard had black plated armor in the form of scales armor all over it.

Mistress Dragon. (Your name) thought as the red haired heroine put her hands on her hips and glared at the villainous within the barrier.

“Electra! Release that civilian!” The woman boomed in an intimidating voice that was more than likely edited with a voice changing device.

“No chance, Mistress Dragon. Not when your little boy toy is running around as well.”

And soon enough, a ring of ice formed around the entire barrier as a tall, muscular male with the mask of a white fox stood along side Mistress Dragon. His costume consisted of a tight navy blue jumpsuit with silver armor plating with patches of white fur on the shoulders and around the hands and feet.

“Sub-Zero, glad to see you’ve made it.” Electra laughed as she grabbed (your name) and placed her plump lips on her cheek. The barrier dissolved as the two heroes began to circle the villainess, preparing to take action against her.

“What is your scheme this time, Electra?” Mistress Dragon growled as smoke came out from the mouth of her mask.

“I just wanted to warn you that I know both of your identities. All thanks to this cute little rabbit.” Electra cooed as she squished (your name)’s cheeks together. “Isn’t she just precious?”

“Electra, leave her out of this-“ Sub-Zero tried to coax the silver haired villain as the villain began to laugh darkly.

“No.” Electra then grabbed (your name) bridal style as she soared into the air, lavender lightning striking the ground as she rose higher and higher, (Your name) screaming as she held onto Electra tightly out of fear of falling.

Mistress Dragon immediately shifting into a large black oriental Dragon with a fiery red mane and a peculiar septum ring as she swiftly followed behind. Electra cursing under her breath as the dragon quickly caught up to her. She’d have to ditch her prize and come back another time...

“Let her go!”

“Okay.” And before (your name) knew it, she was falling through the sky, plummeting to her death. Her scream piercing the air as tears fell from her eyes. She didn’t want to die, not yet at least.

Before she could even blink, Mistress Dragon shifted and scooped her into her arms as she quickly brought the reporter into her chest, Sub-Zero making a slide for the two to slide down as they made it back to the ground safely. (Your name)’s face flushing red as she studied the masked face of her savior.

“Are you Alright-“ (Your name) pulled Mistress Dragon close as she began to cry.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” (Your name) sobbed as the heroine pulled her into a hug. “How can I ever repay you-“

“How about a kiss?” Mistress Dragon asked as Sub-Zero’s hands began to shake on the sidelines.

“Um s-sorry. I don’t think I can.” (Your name) stayed as she began to twiddle her thumbs together nervously. “I have a crush on someone already.”

“Oh? Well, I respect that.” Mistress Dragon then pulled away as Sub-Zero stepped in.

“May I escort you home?” Sub-Zero asked as (your name) gulped.

“S-sure-“

“Sub-Zero, I think we both need to leave the little lady alone. We could always send a ride to come get her.”

“How about you head into your place of work and ask one of your coworkers for a ride?” Sub-Zero asked the girl as he smiled gently at her.

“I’m sure it’ll be easy to do, you’re quite cute after all.” Miss dragon told the reporter as (your name) nodded and headed back into work. The two heroes immediately leaving the scene before paparazzi could show up.

“Do you need a ride?” (Your name) smiled as her eyes met familiar onyx orbs of her best friend.

“Yes please.”

“(Your name)!” The poor reporter almost cried when Jasper picked her up into a tight hug and twirled her as he sighed dramatically. “I’m so happy you’re okay! You were all over the news! Are you okay-“

“Oh Jesus, leave the poor girl alone.” Ryoko interrupted as Jasper places (your name) down gently.

“Sorry Miss Abo.” Jasper replied as Ryoko quickly began to fix (your name)’s hair and set it back into place as the reporter puffed her cheeks out.

“Please stop touching me you two, I’m okay-“

“(Your name), you poor little girl.” (Your name) was (height) y’all, but go off Ryoko. “We both just worry about you. Mostly me though-“

“No I worry more. I was so scared you’d call off and I wouldn’t be able to give you an awesome assignment.”

“Awesome assignment?”

“Yes, I’m giving you an assignment to write an article on super heroes. I published your article on Miss Spark in the paper and everyone loved it. So I’m giving you a bigger assignment and this time you will be on the biggest magazine here. How would you like to be the main article in Times magazine?”

(Your name) smiled as Jasper handed her the assignment. It was information on the cities top two heroes.

“I need you to write an article on Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon. And lucky for you, you encountered the two of them recently.”

“Thank you so much, Mister Jones.” (Your name) grasped Jasper’s hand as his whole face turned pink.As soon as she released his hand, he turned and coughed into his hand. Excusing himself to the restroom as he left Ryoko and (Your name) in (your name)’s tiny office.

“I’m seriously glad you’re okay. I honestly thought you were going to take some time off. But I’m happy you’re here. It’s good to have you back.” Ryoko smacked her shoulder playfully as (your name) smiled.

This day was giving (your name) so much confidence. Maybe she’d finally call Miss Spark and accept her dinner date?

(Your name) went over to her black bag, frowning as she noticed her bunny key chain was missing. She shrugged it off, she could always purchase another one.

(Your name) reached into the middle pocket of her bag and pulled out a black card with a domino on the top of it. She released a shaky breath as she slowly dialed the number on the phone. Her (skin color) skin thumb hesitated before she pushed call, sealing her fate.

(Your name) nervously sat at a table for two at a high end restaurant as she nervously sipped on a glass of bubbly white moscato. She really hoped Aria would show up.

(Your name) glanced around the restaurant until (eye color) met violet orbs. (Your name)’s mouth hung open as she took in Aria’s elegant outfit. Aria wore a long, elegant violet dress that had diamonds sewn into it. A long, white shawl wrapped around her to hide her cleavage from wandering eyes as the tall curvaceous woman strut her way over to (your name). Her white hair was up in an elegant bun with a few silvery strands loose around her face. If (your name) didn’t know any better than Aria would be the African American Jessica Rabbit.

“Were you waiting long?” Aria asked as she took a seat in from of the (body type) girl. Aria’s dark chocolate skinned hand touching (your name)’s lightly as the girl almost by turned into a puddle of goo.

“N-no.” (Your name) stuttered as her cheeks flushed pink. “I was kind of just scared that you weren’t going to show.”

“Well of course I would, little bunny. I asked you to dinner and I didn’t expect you to call me.” The woman reached into her silver clutch and pulled out a familiar rabbit keychain. “You remind me of one of these.”

The two of them laughed as they ordered their food and drank numerous glasses of fancy wine. And before (your name) knew it, she was drunk. Very, very drunk. And Aria was nice enough to help her into her limo.

“I think we should call it a night, bunny. You can’t even keep your head up straight.” Aria chuckled as (your name) just gave her a goofy grin as (your name) struggled to get into the limo.

“I really like you, Aria.” (Your name) replied as she began to giggle. “I want to go out again sometime-“

Aria pulled (your name) in for a steamy kiss as (your name) tried to kiss back to the best of her ability. Their tongue moving in sync as Aria pulled (your name) onto her lap and let her hands grab (your name)’s plump read in her hands.

“Let’s go back to my place, shall we?” (Your name) could only smile as Aria shut the partition as they continued their steamy make out session. Thank god the windows of the limo were tinted.

(Your name) woke up with a pounding headache and completely bare in a violet, silk sheeted canopy bed. The bare form of Aria tangled in the sheets with her.

Aria soon stirred, her violet eyes fluttering open as the silver haired woman pulled (your name) closer to her. Her plump lips kissing the exposed skin on (your name)’s neck.

“I didn’t take you for a vixen in the sheets. You were so cute last night.” Aria cooed as (your name) flushes red. “But all those cute hickies on your shoulders are marks that you’re mine.

“Aria-“

“(Your name), I want you to be my girlfriend.” (Your name) smiled as she kissed Aria again.

“Let’s get to know each other better first and then we can be girlfriends. I need a little more time.” Aria nodded as she kissed (your name) on the forehead.

“I understand. I’ll wait for you.”

A few months had gone by since that night with Aria. And (your name) and Aria were officially dating. It was such a surprise to everyone. And everyone was happy for her... except Jasper and Ryoko.

(Your name) could tell Ryoko wasn’t happy about her new relationship status due to how forced her smiles when she occasionally caught glimpses of the purple marks on her neck she didn’t cover up well enough, but Jasper was a completely different level of upset...

“(Your name), I brought you a bouquet of red roses!” Jasper proclaimed as the dark bags under his eyes became more prominent as time went on. He didn’t look like he was sleeping well. His skin was paler than normal and his hands were shaky as he held up the bouquet. “They’re almost as beautiful as you-“

“Jasper, I’m sorry. I’m in a happy relationship. I cannot accept your gift.” The roses were gently placed into her lap as Jasper’s whole body began to shake as he forced a smile.

“A woman can’t be with another woman. Y-you’re just confused is all. You’ll come around eventually.” He gave an uneasy laugh before he clutched his hair in his hands. His pale blue eyes widening as a demented smile made its way onto his face. Jasper crouched down on the floor, his hands holding his face while the smile widened even more. The deranged male beginning to ramble to himself. “You have to... you have to love me or I’ll go even more mad...” Jasper whispered to himself while (your name) quickly scurried over to him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. The young reporter trying to gain his attention.

“I-I’m sorry, Mister Jones. I just don’t return your feelings and I don’t know if I ever will-“

“One day...”

“Excuse me?” (Your name) asked, raising a brow at him. Jasper whipped his head up, revealing his terrifying smile to her, flashing his pearly white teeth at her.

“You will one day. I swear on it.” Jasper chuckled, pulling her close to him and holding her flush against his chest. He then stood up to his full height, practically picking the girl off the floor while he burrowed his head into (your name)’s hair. Jasper greedily inhaling her scent with the same crazed smile. She still smelled so sweet. Ice began to slowly creep onto (your name)’s jacket as (your name) felt a sudden chill up her spine. Why was she so cold? “You’ll walk down the aisle with me and then you’ll bear my children-“

“Woah, let the little lady go please.” Ryoko separated the two as her eyes widened in shock as Jasper was basically almost revealed his powers in front of everyone. Ryoko immediately stepping in before Jasper could lose his job. “Let’s go to your office and talk, okay? You’re scaring her.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Jasper immediately released (your name), the scared look in her eye making his heart clench as he tried not to have a meltdown. “I don’t know what came over me I-“

(Your name) fled as he tried not to cry out her name as Ryoko led him to his office. Ryoko immediately kicking the door shut behind the two of them as she shoved him roughly into the floor.

“You’re such an idiot. You almost blew your cover in front of everyone!” Ryoko whisper shouted at him as she kicked him in the leg roughly. “Why can’t you just keep it in your pants?!”

“I’m in love with her! You should know! You look at her the same way I do when you think no one’s looking-“ Jasper’s head was suddenly thrown to the side as Ryoko struck him. Ryoko’s dark bangs covering her eyes as she scowled in disgust.

“Don’t ever compare me to you. You’re disgusting-“

“Why don’t we work together for her affections?!” Jasper shouted as Ryoko’s head snapped up. Her Onyx eyes scanning Jasper’s for any sign of him joking as she began to think. She could tell Jasper was serious for once.

“Do you think we could do it? I mean I don’t know how I feel about sharing but do you think she’d be okay with it?”

“What do you mean? We shouldn’t give her a choice, she’d be safe with us. We’re heroes for god’s sake-“

“I know we are but... I want her to be happy...” Ryoko replied as she rubbed her arm nervously, her dark eyes downcast as she began to fidget under Jasper’s intense gaze. “I don’t want to force her into anything with us. It wouldn’t be the same-“

“I know but do you really think Electra would let her go? I mean seriously? Miss Spark isn’t that good at keeping her identity hidden. I’m amazed (your name) hasn’t caught on-“

“(Your name) is oblivious to all of us having powers. I just don’t want to scare her away. She means so much to me. I’m alright with watching her be happy with someone else, unlike you. So long as she doesn’t get hurt.”

Jasper hummed as he glared at the floor.

“So I’m taking it as a no until something happens to her?” Jasper asked as his ice colored eyes glazed over with some hidden emotion.

“Yes.” Ryoko replied as she opened the door. “Good luck, Jasper.” She then left the room as Jasper stood up headed to his desk, he hunched over his desk as he placed his palms flat on the desk. The room’s temperature dropping in temperature as ice began to cover the entire desk.

Jasper’s breathing became ragged as he tried to calm down his rage. His fists clenching to the point that his fingernails began to draw blood in their wake.

He then screamed in frustration as he slammed his fist into the desk, creating a large crack on the wooden surface as he began to take deep breaths to calm himself down.

“She’ll be mine... I swear to god.”

Ryoko sat in her small apartment as she pulled out a cushion and a lighter and carried it to a spare closet in her room.

She then lit the small vanilla scented candles to illuminate the object of her desires as she smiled. Her onyx eyes never leaving the (eye color) orbs of her love.

A large portrait of (your name) sat in the center of the wall as well as pictures of the two of them together. Pictures of every single selfie or pose they took while they were out and about. They had been so close for years, and (your name) didn’t even understand the depth of Ryoko’s feelings for (your name). Ryoko should’ve been more assertive and maybe (your name) would’ve become her girlfriend... Ryoko bowed her head as she began to concentrate on her goal.

“Patience is key... Electra will mess up soon... and then I’ll be there to catch you.” Ryoko face twisted into a smile that seemed unnatural for her petite face as she leaned forward. Ryoko ran her pale hands gently across the portrait as she sighed longingly. “I love you, (your name).”

“Aria!” (Your name) exclaimed as she entered her lover’s office, the silver haired woman shooting up from her desk as a smile made its way to her face.

“(Your name)!” Elegant black heels came running towards the other woman as Aria swooped (your name) into her strong arms. “How was work?”

“It was okay. Jasper was acting strange again and Ryoko has been so distant... I miss my best friend.” Aria’s eyes darkened as she pulled (your name) into her arms and furrowed her brow. Why were those two still bothering her lover)? Did those two imbeciles not understand that (Your name) belonged to her? Maybe she’d have to make her move now before those pesky heroes snatched her up...

“Aria, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you, baby?” Aria tried her best not to melt into a puddle at (your name)’s cute nickname for her.

“I think we should have some dinner at my place tonight. Does wine sound good?” Aria asked as (your name) nodded excitedly, unaware of Aria’s true intentions.

“I’ll eat or drink anything as long as it’s with you!” (Your name) beamed as Aria kisses her forehead tenderly, a frown forming on her face as (your name) buried her face into Aria’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry...” Aria whispered almost inaudibly as she kissed (your name)’s forehead again. She hoped to god (your name) would forgive her...

Drip. Drop. Clink. Clank.

(Your name) slowly stirred awake as she heard the sound of a faucet dripping. Her (eye color) eyes scanning her unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? This wasn’t Aria’s house.

“I’m so sorry, my little rabbit.” Aria replied as (your name) searched around for her lover.

“Aria? What’s going on? Where am I?” (Your name) tried to stand up to find her lover but was stopped by the chain attached to her ankle. “Why am I chained up-“

“(Your name), I’m Electra.” Aria’s voice rung out in the dark as (your name) gasped.

“Y-you’re joking right? There’s no way-“ a burst of violet electricity shot across the room, activating the lights as Aria stood in the entrance of the dark, windowless room.

“We’re in my secret layer.” Aria replied as her violet eyes began to tear up. “The heroes are after you and I’m just so scared something bad will happen to you. I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire-“

“Why would they be after me-“

“They’re your coworkers (your name). Jasper and Ryoko are Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon.” The gears began to turn in (your name)’s head as she tried it process what Aria as saying. How could she not have noticed the signs? The septum ring on the dragon? The coldness she’d always feel around Jasper? It all made sense...

“But why me?” (Your name) asked as Aria frowned.

“You’re too innocent and way too sweet.” Aria replied as her smooth hands grasped (your name)’s face and kisses her forehead. “I have to defeat them and then I’ll let you go.”

“Aria, please don’t leave me like this! Please-“ The room soon became pitch black as the door was shut to the room. (Your name)’s sobs could be heard throughout the lair as her heart broke at her lover’s betrayal.

(Your name had no idea how long she was trapped in that room without seeing Aria. Hours? Days? Weeks? She didn’t know at all.

Creak! Slam!

(Your name)’s head whipped up from the sound of the doorbell opening. Her smile widening as she gazed expectantly at the door. A figure standing in the center of it as (you’re name) began to sob, tears filling her vision.

“Aria-“ The figure soon feel to the ground as two figures walked in. (Eye color) eyes widening in horror as she scooted herself close to the wall.

“W-Who are-“

“I knew we’d find you. It took us a week to get her to tell us where you were. We were so worried when you didn’t come to work.” A familiar voice rung out at she felt a pair of hands on her cheeks. (Eye color) eyes meeting onyx as she gasped.

“Ryoko-“

“(Your name)! Don’t forget about me.” Jasper cooed as he grabbed her free hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. “Oh my poor darling, you’re so skinny. I promise we’ll feed you and we’ll both treat you so very well-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh silly little rabbit.” Jasper chuckled as his icy blue eyes began to glow. “You belong to us now.”

“We bring to you breaking news, it turns out Aria Spark of Domino Electric was the dastardly villainess who plagued our city for so long! She is finally captured and placed in the new Super Prison the Hero Association has established far away from here. I also bring to you news that Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon have officially retired. Who do you think the next rising hero will be of these five-“

Tears filled (your name)’s eyes as Jasper and Ryoko sat on either side of her, both of their hands lovingly rubbing her large, swollen tummy as they both smiled.

“I think our baby will be the next rising superhero. What do you think darling?” Jasper cooed as he kissed (your name)’s cheek as tears fell down her cheek.

“My baby is next! I can’t wait to see you swollen with my little baby dragon. I was able to get a sperm donation from my brother so we can do invitro-fertilization.” Ryoko fondly cooed as she kisses (your name)’s cheek.

In the end, the heroes and villains weren’t so different between each other in her story. While her beloved villain would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars...

Or was she?

683 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Distorted.

Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x Reader (Genshin).

A Grab Bag Commission For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Summary: With the help of the Akasha system, Dottore strives to keep you happy and docile and, most importantly, unaware by his side.

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Unreality, Slight Gore/Blood, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Obsessive Behavior.

“Do you think Ajax is free?”

Dottore hummed thoughtfully, pressing his scalpel downward and severing a measured length of small intestine from the greater mass. With time to spare and the patient he was extracting his materials from long-dead, he took a minute aside to note the patches of scar tissue lining their internal tissue on a blood-spotted journal, to test for unusual viscosity or durability that’d have to be accounted for in his research. It was a minor study, something that would’ve been handed off to a younger branch of himself not yet ready to play a hand in more dire schemes, but due to the intervention of a certain archon, he was forced to carry out more of his own grunt work than he had in decades. Not that he minded getting his hands dirty, of course.

Especially when the same archon’s nation had given him such a lovely lab assistant to keep him company while he worked.

“Planning to replace me, little mouse?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. It’s your own dinner party, for the Tsaritsa’s sake.” He heard you sigh in mock exasperation, then again – your frustration more genuine. You were sitting at his desk, working away at whatever little task you’d assigned yourself, the ring of blue light encircling your head pulsing brightly. It was his own handiwork – a version of the Akasha system he’d been able to maintain even after returning to Snezhnaya. He had no idea where you thought you were, what you thought he was doing, what you saw through those clouded eyes, but he knew you couldn’t be here, in his dark, cluttered lab - couldn’t see your beloved husband, the man who you’d crossed half of Teyvat to stay with, elbow-deep in a vat of disembodied organs and viscera. That was what interested him most about your experiment, really. It was one thing to wonder how you’d react if you ever found out the man you loved had such grisly pastimes. It was another, to watch what lengths your mind would go to just to substitute your reality with a more palatable fantasy. When it suited him, he could play a more involved hand in your fabrication, make himself into a hero or a villain or something else altogether, but most days, he was content to let you create your own daydreams. You were the most obedient when you could make him into exactly what you needed, that day.

“To celebrate your return to Snezhnaya,” You went on, as he piled the segmented pieces of a malformed liver onto his scale. “Pierro says that you haven’t been holding up your social obligations. I know it’s not customary, but I thought it’d be nice to invite another Harbinger – so you don’t have to suffer a room full of noblemen and merchants alone.”

So you were aware of his status as a Harbinger, today. More often than not, you treated him like a neighborhood doctor, or a traveling scholar as far from home as you’d found yourself. Sometimes, he was a low-ranking diplomat, or a medic you could welcome home from the battlefield, but you rarely acknowledged him as something so dangerous, something so far above yourself. It must’ve been the occasion. It would’ve been hard to deny who he was when you were sending out the invitations to a Harbinger’s event.

On that note, he abandoned his work, positioning himself on the opposing side of your desk. He was already smiling – it was difficult not to, when you were in his position – but his grin broadened further as he looked over your half-finished guest list, your attempts at calligraphy scribbled across what little scrap paper you could find. “I believe Tartaglia was sent back to his post in Liyue last week.”

You pursed your lips. “Pantalone comes with good company.”

“And he charges market-price for every precious second of his time. You wouldn’t want to bleed me dry, now, would you?” You tilted your head to the side, pretending to consider it, and he let out a breathy laugh, rounding the table and settling behind you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “There must be an alternative.”

“Well,” You tilted your head back, your smile now matching his own. “It has been a while since I’ve heard Columbina sing–”

“Anyone but Columbina.”

“I write Pantalone a letter tonight, then.” You allowed yourself a moment to bask in your own self-satisfaction, leaning back in your seat and allowing your gaze to drift – first to your lap, then to your shoulders, where the blood and viscera coating your hands was beginning to soak into the fine ivory silk of your sleeves. There was a flash of repulsion, a sound not unlike a half-choked scream, and then you were shoving him away, your expression only growing more pained when he refused to move. He felt something tighten in his chest – not quite fear, but pure, zealous excitement. Had you, somehow, managed to break yourself out of your trance? Was there a flaw in the Akasha system he hadn’t accounted for? How much would you force yourself to forget, overwrite, warp and distort into something loving in the coming hours if you saw him for what he was, now?

“Zandik.” The sound of his name on your lips was to die for. He leaned down, pressing nipping at the corner of your jaw, and you groaned, brushing him away. “I’ve told you not to touch me while you’re painting. Look at me – it’s going to take ages to get this out of my clothes.”

Oh. Painting. How adorably quaint.

How adorably wrong.

With a sigh, he leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss into the corner of your neck. You crossed your arms, sulking, but allowed him to. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to refuse. “Forgive me, darling.”

He straightened his back, watching red seep into white and begin to stain.

“I’m sure you’ll forget all about this in no time at all.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yanderecore #yancore

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creativepromptsforwriting · 9 months

Note

Hi! Do you happen to have any hero x civilian prompts?

Hero x Civilian Prompts

They had never talked about what they are to each other, but when Civilian gets kidnapped by the Villain for being the Hero's girl/boyfriend, it's the perfect opportunity to talk about it.

Civilian works the night shift, which is perfect, because it means that after working and saving the night both of them get home to fall asleep in each other's arms while the rest of the world gets up.

It's hard to watch your partner on national TV, risking their life to save everyone elses. And especially if they can't talk to anyone about it.

Being the Hero's partner meant that they were a target for the villians. But the Civilian would not let that stop them from being happy with their Hero.

Imagine wanting to bring your partner home to your parents for the first time and having to explain to them that your partner is running a little late, while the news station is on in the background constantly giving updates on where the Hero currently is.

They never thought that part of being the Hero's partner was to bring them a change of clothing after their heroic acts, so they can go home undetected.

It wasn't hard to find out that their sweet new partner is the Hero. They're really not that good at keeping the secret.

No matter what their partner said, it was a great joke to both dress as the Hero for the costume party. Until a lot of people see similiarities...

I hope you like them! I also have some more prompts like these:

Villain x Civilian Prompts

Hero & Villain Masterpost

- Jana

#anon ask #hero x civilian #writing prompts #writeblr #writers on tumblr #hero prompts #creative writing #prompt list

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chatterbox-73 · 1 year

Text

.Sugar Daddy.

.Birthday bunny.

Izuku Midoriya x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: happy birthday Izuku🎉 also this one shot isn’t edited.

Summary/inspiration/prompt: what would Japan’s number one hero spend his birthday on…? Of course, he’d spend it with the top hostess in Japan with all his friends.

Word count: 3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, aged up characters, mention of contraceptive, illegal prostitution, anal play, pet name (bunny), bunny ears and tail, humiliation, voyeurism, oral (m&f!receiving), breast play, sex toy/butt plug, Bi Midoriya and drinking alcohol.

You stood in a line before a table of Japan’s top heroes, the men laughing and drank, cheering for their friend; who you had been informed was celebrating his birthday. The man in question was your nations number 1 hero and had defended the evil villain ‘All for one’ and his protégée ‘Tomura Shigaraki’, his name ‘Deku’.

“I have all the girls you requested, please take your pick…” the owner of the company said with a smile, your eyes shifting to either side of you, all the girls in the line shared no similarities; some were tall while others were short, some were plump and fuller while others were lean and bony, some had large breasts and bottoms while others were less well endowed, however you quickly realised what you and the other women had in common, you were the high ranking hostesses who were also unofficial prostitutes.

You did your best at hiding your amusement, it was ironic all these heroes, noble and just, and oh so willing to use illegal prostitutes. “Mr. Deku, do any of the girls catch your attention?” Asked the own and the green haired hero nodded, before pointing to you, “that one… she’ll do” Deku spoke smoothly, you boss nodded with a smile, “have her take the present we brought with us” spoke a blonde sitting next to Deku, he grinned and nudged his friend.

You stepped into the room just across from the room with all the heroes, now they all sat with the other women you’d been lined up with. You walked over to the table were a package sat, you opened the box and examined the contents, there was a navy green lingerie set lined with black lace, matching stockings, black red bottom heels… you examined the bra and measured it too your chest, a surprising fit. You looked at the underwear, if you could call them that, it was more like a small triangle held together by strings and a few dainty chains. However looking back in the box something mint green and fluffy caught your attention, grabbing it out, it was a pair of bunny ears. You then looked back in the box in search of the tail and to your shock found it.

“It’d probably be too late to back out” you sighed as to grabbed the small package and opened it, pulling out a rather large plug with a mint green bunny tail on the end of it, you had admittedly done many weird things and probably worse then this, however you’d never felt so nervous.

You stiffened your lip and began to get cleaned up and dressed, you’d eventually got to the point where you’d have to put in the plug, you twisted the thing in your hand and noted it was bigger then most of the men you’d entertained but you pervaded, squeezed a large amount of lubricant on it before you lifted your leg into a chair and began to push it in, there was a brief discomfort before your body relaxed and the metal of the plug warmed. You hummed as the fluff of the tail met your skin and the plug filled you.

Standing before the mirror you twisted and turned getting a good look at yourself, you ran your fingers over the tops of your breasts and down your front; you looked good, you most certainly wouldn’t deny that, you turned before wiggling your butt and the tail jingled, you chuckled before being pulled from your thoughts as there was a knock at the door, “almost done, our patrons are growing tired of waiting” called your boss through the door, “oh yes, I’m ready” you called back and the man entered the room, he stared at you for a moment before grinning and passing you a robe.

“You look wonderful” he helped you with your robe before straightening your bunny ears, “wonderful enough for you to take me out?” You smirked and your boss shook his head, “I’m more of a cat person” he replied nonchalantly and untucked your hair from the robe. Your boss guided you back to the room with all the heroes, he had a cake that he passed to you and explained you were going to disrobe, sing ‘happy birthday’ and then take Deku into the connected room were you’d do as he asked. Your boss opened the door and stepped in, the room was filled with laughter and singing, “oi that girl ready yet?” Asked what sounded like the blonde from earlier, “yes she’s ready” he signalled for you to enter.

Stepping into the room you noticed the other hostess had stripped down to their underwear or less, some had simply unzipped their dresses and slipped the top of the dress down to their hips, before taking off their bra, while other completely removed their dresses, and one even sat on your clients lap naked, you walked around the table and placed the cake down in front on Deku and smiled, “you there, get the lights” you faked a smile and the girl got up and moved, as you began to light the candles on the cake, before looking to the hero “Mr number one, may I ask your help with my robe” you grabbed his hand and brought it to the tie, he pulled it and watched as the robe fell down your body and pool at your feet, one of your other coworkers quickly grabbed the robe and took it over too the manager and stood beside him and the other coworker you had told to get the lights.

The room dimmed and you began to sing, you pulled Deku’s hand around you and rested one of your own on his shoulder, once you finished singing you lent down and spoke, “blow out your candles Mr Deku and make a wish… try to get all of them or you’ll get a punishment” before you whispered, “but even if you don’t get all your candles in one go, I’ll still grant all your wishes” you chuckle and licked his ears before standing up, the man got all but one candle, everyone cheered as the lights came back on. You lent over again and blow out the last candle before pulling them out of the cake, you wiggles your butt as you did so, the small jingle suddenly sounded so loud and it drew the attention of several of the man, some looked surprised and shocked not fully believing any of the hostess would have worn it, the blonde who you believed was behind organising this event sat on the other side of you had handed Deku a small metallic thing and gave your butt a good squeeze before focusing back on the topless woman on his lap, bringing his hands back to her very large breasts.

You scooped some icing on your finger and stood up straight, before wiping it on Deku’s lips and cheek, “I told you, I’d have to punish you if you left any candles lit” you giggled and licked your finger clean, the man smiled and looked at you before clicking something in his hand, before you knew it your knees slightly buckled and you grabbed tightly onto his shoulder and as strong vibrations radiated through your rectum, the bell jingled violently signalling to the others at the table the cause for your sudden reaction. “What’s the matter bunny?” Deku spoke his first words since choosing you, you shook your head and straightened up, “uhh… nothing… Mmm just fine” you moaned with a smile and grabbed both of his hands, “would you like to go now?” You asked however the man shook his head, “I’d like to have some cake first” he hummed and you looked over to your boss who nodded before quickly leaving the room.

You served the hero a slice of cake, however before he began eating he instructed you to wipe off his face, however this was no easy task as he had turned the vibrations on and off vigorously, you were then told to stand and wait for him, which again would have been easy enough however Deku had decided to turn the vibrations up so high the tail looked as though it began to wiggle, you moaned loudly as you felt the vibrations in your cunt as well as deep in your tight rectum, your legs shook but you managed to stay standing.

Some of the man laughing while others palmed themselves as you whine and whimpered, however your client remanded stoned face and after glancing at his crotch… flaccid. The blonde next to you however was both laughing at you and had already moved the woman previously on his lap to under the table where she was serving him… and yet your client remained unbothered by it all and simply ate his cake, “would you like cream, Mr Deku?” You asked and picked up the bowl with whipped cream, the man nodded and sat back watching you, however instead of dolloping cream onto the cake, you dolloped it onto your breasts, “oopsie, it seems I don’t have much control over my hands, can you help me?” You asked and the man replied by pushing his chair out and grabbing your waist in a firm grip, his eyes met your and instantly of the response your thought you’d get… something like a small blush and a laugh; you got something completely different. Deku gave to a narrowed eye looked that said ‘really?’, he looked at you like you were some annoying idiot, however he leant down and began to lick from your bellybutton where the cream dripped down to, before licking up slowly, the room filled with cheers and you felt a shiver as you watched his harsh and narrow eyes, he then licked over the tops of your breasts before he then pulled the straps of your bra off the shoulders, exposing your breasts to everyone, Deku’s large hot tongue gliding over one of your breast and you bite your cherry red lips before he licked over your other breast and took the entire boob into his mouth, you moaned and your eyes rolled back as he began suckling on your nipple, the room roar with cheers and you looked back at the man as he sucked and flicked his tongue over your nipple, while his hands held you tightly in place, his eyes closed and you found yourself glanced over to the remote for the butt plug, without a second thought you reached for it, however Deku caught your wrist and pulled it behind your back, all while still he suckled your nipple with his eyes closed, you gasped as he bit your nipple and grabbed the remote, flicking the switch up all the way.

Your body shook and legs buckled completely however you were being held up by Deku, you squealed and cried out loudly as tears formed in your eyes and liquid dripped down your shaking legs, your face and shoulders were bright red from the embarrassment… you were humiliated, having all these men laughing at you and the man who your supposed to be entertaining, is nowhere near interested in you, it was clear he’d rather eat cake and make a fool of you than have sex or even talk with you. Suddenly Deku stood, holding you up with one arm before leaving the table and walking over to the door that led to the private room, once entering and closing the door the room was completely silent, blocking out all the sound from the outside.

With a click the door was locked and the man took you over to the set of chairs and sat you in one before sitting in the other, he turned off the vibrator and placed the remote on the small table that was set between the chairs, Deku then grabbed the two wine glasses and the bottle of wine before popping it and filling the glasses, he passed you a glass and took his own, swirled the wine around the glass before smelling it, you watched as he drunk the wine. “Thank you for the drink Mr Deku” you weakly smiled, “it’s Midoriya…” he spoke and you nodded, “right, of course… thank you Mr Midoriya…” you straightened up as best you can, “I apologise if I’m not what you wanted… but just tell me and I can help in anyway you need me too” you bowed and the man chuckled, “that’s very sweet bunny, but you see I didn’t expect this was how I’d be spending my birthday…” he took another sip and continued on, “I honestly thought I’d be spending the night watching movies with my husband” he sighed and you gasped, “oh I’m so sorry, I can get one of the male hosts or I can just get dressed and we’ll only talk” you covered your chest with your arm however Midoriya only throw his head back in laughter, “oh no it’s fine, my husband and I are both very open, he’s blonde out there currently having his dick sucked…” he place his glass on the table “and we swing both ways… Its common for us to bring a man or woman into bed with us as we both don’t always like bottoming” he said and you sigh, “so what can I do for you?” You asked and he signalled for you to get in front of him, moving to stand between his legs he pulled you to kneel, “suck me” he demanded and you began to undo his pants.

You pulled out his large yet flaccid cock and softly kitten licked it, you wondered if he had been enjoying himself or if he was just lying to save your feelings, you began to lightly suckle on his tip and before long his cock stood tall and proud; it was huge, you weren’t surprised that his husband didn’t want to bottom every often. You pumped him and sucked and licked his balls, Midoriya hummed and patted your head, “sweet little bunny…” he sighed and undid his tie and the buttons on his shirt, you pulled his tip back into your mouth and tried to take him deep, gagging as you got less then half way, “too much for the little bunny, stand for me” he instructed and you did so without hesitation. Midoriya moved to take off your bar and slide down your pantie slipping them in his pocket, “turn and bend over” he sat back and moved, you felt his thumb spread your folds before the lightest amount of vibration came from the plug, you moaned placed your hands on your knees. Midoriya chuckled “tell me how often do men fuck you?” He questioned “I have sex about once or twist a day” you answered honestly, “I see and how much money does that bring in?” Midoriya asked as he reached for the plug and began to slowly pump it in and out, “just enough for me to live comfortably” you continued to answer honestly, the man humming and pulled the plug out completely and placed it on the table, “do you have experience with service to men at the same time?” He stood and pulled you to turn, you looked up at him and nodded, “yes Mr Midoriya, I do” you felt the man pulling you towards the bed, “very good… finally contraception… you use condoms but would you be willing to use the pill or an IUD?” He asked as he guided you to lie down, he slipped on a condom and pumped himself a few times, you watched him confuse but answered anyways, “I’m alright on the pill, condoms are so I don’t get sick” you smiled awkwardly and the man chuckled, “I see, thank you for answering honestly with me” he said as he moved your ankles to his shoulders.

Midoriya slipped inside you ever so slowly and gave you no time to adjust as he took long strong thrust, he held your waist and groaned his he intensely watched his cock slip in and out of you, he eyes flickered to your breasts which bounced with each thrust, “your so fucking beautiful, bunny” he hummed and sped up his pace. You however were in heaven, it had been so long since you had been filled this good, Midoriya’s cock pressed ever spot and his words had an unimaginable effect on you, after being humiliated by him, to have him call you beautiful had you clenched him so tight he thought his cock would snap right off. Midoriya laughed and placed a hand on your throat, he didn’t place any weight on it or tighten his hand, he simply just left it the and fucked you faster, “I’m gonna fucking cum… get up bunny” he demanded and pulled out of you before pulling the condom off, you whined and knelt on the bed, suddenly his hand grabbed a fist full of hair and pumping his cock, you leaned forward and suckled on his tip again before feeling his hot load seep onto your tongue, he throw his head back and moaned before pushing off him and onto your back.

Shock filled you as he climbed onto the bed and grabbed your legs pulling you towards him, and his without warning his face disappeared in between your legs, he groaned as he sucked and licked your folders. “It’s been awhile since I can ate a cunt so bear with me” Midoriya chuckled and continued to devour your cunt, that’s how you spent the next hour or so, his tongue and fingers take turned being inside you or playing with your clit.

You were shaken awake by your boss, “come on, up you get” he sighed as he helped you sit up and pass you a thick envelope, confused you opened it and noticed it was full of cash and a letter, pulling out the letter and reading it; you were thanked for your excellent service and… offered a job to work fill time for Midoriya and his husband.

You hadn’t the slightest idea in what they saw in you but you were certain the pay would be better than anything you were currently receiving. You’d swallow any pride to simply have to fuck two very attractive men and get a large wad of cash after every service, it was an opportunity of the lifetime, you really didn’t need to think it over at all.

More from ‘Sugar Daddy’ series:

Masterlist (coming soon)

Next - Satoru Gojo: ‘Not’ only you.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fem!reader #midoriya izuku #mha izuku #mha deku #deku midoriya #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #izuku midoriya #Izuku midoriya x reader smut #Izuku midoriya x reader #deku smut #Deku x reader #Deku x reader smut #midoriya x reader smut

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hazelsmirrorball · 1 year

Text

Spiderman's biggest Fan | Jaime Reyes

summary: Jaime Reyes is the biggest spiderman fan. His girlfriend on the other hand is Spiderman's biggest hater.

pairings: Jaime Reyes x Fem! Reader

a/n: I’ve been wanting to do this for a while but as I was walking towards my literature class I saw a big ass spider so that inspired me to write this. This will probably have a second part if you guys want.

warning: English isn’t my main language

[MASTERLIST]

part two. part three. part four part five

Superheroes wasn’t a new term for the citizens of Palmera City. They were aware of the crimes that the cities around them would face like Metropolis or Gotham City. But Palmera city wasn’t a goldmine for a lot of villains to show up but there were a few constant ones like Doctor Octopus, Electro, the Rhino and occasionally some more. Before Blue Beetle had come around there had been a few super heroes that would patrol from time to time. Superheroes from the Justice League would pass by which added to people's curiosity, and by people mainly Milagro and Jaime. They loved the entertainment that it brought to Palmera. It made Palmera City more interesting. People had mixed reactions to superheroes, even though they were supposed to keep “humans” safe, some people had love-hate relationships with them, but some people were like the Reyes family.

Before the whole Khaji-Da situation, Milagro and Jaime would obsess over heroes. Collecting comics, occasionally buying merchandise, collecting news articles with their favorite heroes and other things Milagro and Jaime would be ashamed of even mentioning. Superheroes was something Jaime and Milagro bonded over. Even when Jaime left for his pre-law degree in Gotham City, he made sure he would snap pictures of the titans or batman when he got a glimpse of them. He even snuck a few pics of Red Hood beating the shit out of the joker. The pictures would end up in the group chat he had with his sister and his girlfriend, Y/n. Milagro loved seeing all the heroes, gushing over the titans from time to time while Y/n would just leave the text message on read. Milagro would reciprocate the messages by sending him pictures of their all time favorite superhero, Spiderman.

Spiderman was the shit in Palmera city, everyone went crazy about that man. Spiderman had been spiderman for a long time now. Keeping crime to a minimum in Palmera, he kept Palmera safe. Spiderman was Palmeras Batman or Superman. He was deeply loved by the people. Excluding the media and Kord enterprises. Depending on which news was your go to, you would see John Jameson bashing Spiderman or other news outlets talking wonders about him. But the city of Palmera hated both Kord and John Jameson so Spiderman didn’t have to worry that much.

Even though Spiderman was a national treasure no one had a clue of who he was and it intrigued Jaime. The fact that there was a possibility that he had seen spiderman around in his normal attire. Jaime and Milagro would see him from afar fighting crime and that would be the start of the gushing train. They only had one interaction with the man. Nana, Milagro and Jaime had gone to get groceries and before they could even process what was going on someone was robbing the store. It didn’t take long for Spiderman to show up and save the day. Both of them stared in awe from afar not wanting to disturb him. That day was one of the top days in their life.

Y/n, Jaime’s girlfriend of seven years, on the other hand didn’t understand their infatuation with superheroes. She had known the siblings ever since diapers and they usually would have a lot of things in common. Knowing each other for years made them click with a lot of things but it was weird for her to click with them on that specific topic. She was on the other side of the spectrum. She could care less about the heroes, it’s not like it affected her directly. At least that’s what her boyfriend thought.

From Jaimes perspective Y/n hated Spiderman. She didn’t stand him, every time Milagro or him would mention Spiderman she would tense up and roll her eyes, clearly annoyed. She didn’t like the subject. Y/n would walk away groaning when Spiderman would show up on the news while Jaime and Milagro would gush about him. At some point Jaime thought it was mere jealousy but he quickly pushed that thought away when he brought it up. Y/n mentioned that she just didn't understand what was all the fuss about. That to her these superheroes was just some bullshit that she didn’t want to deal with. That maybe Jameson was right, the world could live without Spiderman,the world could live without heroes.

“Heroes just make us “normal people” a charity case and you are eating that bullshit up” Y/n defended herself as looked at her boyfriend's shirt. I love spiderman written in the same font as those New York tourist shirts, spiderman being in the heart . Jaime looked at her with puppy dog eyes pouting as he hugged himself.

“So that’s a no on being spidermen for halloween?” He asked softly as she groaned leaving him alone

So when the whole Khaji-Da situation came creeping into Jaime’s life he hid it from his longtime girlfriend. He didn’t know how such a beautiful person like Y/n would stay with him in a relationship for so long. He couldn’t risk fucking things up, he didn’t choose to have Khaji-Da. He made his family swear that they wouldn’t say a word to her. Which they hesitantly agreed, respecting Jaime’s decision. He hated hiding things from the love of his life, but from the back of his head he would imagine what you would think about him now that he had “powers” and you were using them for good. It didn’t mean he was a superhero, right?

Jaime saw a future with Y/n and being Blue Beetle wasn’t going to change that in the slightest. They were going to finish grad school, get married and have a family. So even if he did feel guilty about hiding such a big secret he would have to keep it a secret to save their relationship. In Y/n eyes Jaime found a job at Kord industries and he worked nights, which wasn’t a complete lie. So that made him feel a little less guilty. Y/n was one of the most important things in his life and he wasn’t going to lose her, never in a million years.

But after the Reyes household burned down, Y/n had offered the Reyes family to stay with her and her aunt Marisol until everything was settled, which they agreed. So there they were the Reyes and the L/N living together. Which made Jaimes secret a little more harder to hide, being under the same for months was going to make things slip. He couldn’t sneak up in his girlfriend's room wearing his suit. So before anything could happen he took a break, he didn’t want to risk her finding out. He needed to take advantage of living with his girlfriend, seeing what it’s like to actually live with her, getting a preview of what’s to come.

That’s when Jaime started to pick up on Y/n’s weird behavior. How she would leave on random moments of the day or how she would avoid him at night. She was hiding something and he knew it. After all these years he could pick up on the little things she did and to him it was pretty obvious that she was hiding something. Something that fucked him over was the fact that he didn’t want to pry because he also knew that he was keeping things from her. But in his defense it was also for their safety and their relationship. So maybe he should let her have this secret, it wasn’t like she was cheating or something. Y/n wasn’t like that.

That was until she slipped into the kitchen spotting Jaime and Milagro eating some cereal while reading the news assuming that was Spider Man's new little stunt. She rolled her eyes walking towards them. She took a sip of Jaimes drink, placing it back down quickly.

“Buenos dias, nena” Jaime replied, smiling at her in awe making Milagro start her puking noises.

“Buenos dias! How did you guys sleep?” She said as she gave Milagro a little squeeze on the shoulder and a peck on Jaimes cheek. Milagro spined the stool to face her while narrowing her eyes at the couple.

“I slept well, how about you Jaime? How did you sleep” Milagro replied, taking a sip of her drink while looking at Jaime to make him talk. MIlagro wasn’t dumb, she was noticing that the couple wasn’t in synch as usual and she wasn’t going to let her brother fuck it up.

“Oh, um. I kinda couldn’t sleep. I miss you all night” He replied looking at his girlfriend not knowing what words to use. He didn’t want to sound like an obsessive boyfriend.

No offense but since Jaime isn’t going to say it I will. You look like you haven’t slept in years and we all know you are not sleeping here” She exclaimed straddling Y/n.

“Sorry! I’ve just been taking school seriously and since I'm doing that I am studying more than usual. I don’t want to have you guys staying all night up because I am doing my work. I just go to the library, that’s all. Don’t worry after midterms I’ll be all yours. Now are you guys still focused on the last spiderman fight? Come on! Shouldn’t you guys be doing something productive with your lives?” Y/n asked sarcastically, changing the subject as she fixed the hair leaning against Jaimes touch picking up looking towards the newspaper that was on the counter she pushed the hair to the side.

That’s when Jaime’s heart stopped. His eyes scanned the bruises in Y/n neck and he could feel his heart drop, sickness overcoming his body. He tried to look away from the barely covered hickeys, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Milagro. He couldn’t believe it, studying in the library my ass. He knew he hadn’t left hickeys on her neck, they hadn’t been intimate in a while because of all of her disappearances. The only interaction they were having was the occasional kiss on the cheek but that was about it. Jaime missed her, her kisses and her touch but he also respected her space so he didn’t bother her. But now the thought of her being with someone else scared him. She was keeping things from him and this was the confirmation.

“Ay mija, para mi que Spiderman es novio tuyo. Because why are you always up his ass? You know what they say, if you can’t beat them join them. It is about time you stop that hate train. I bet he’s really hot. Don’t you think, Jaime?” Milagro replied, closing the newspaper and turning to the couple. Jaime nodded completely out of it, his head in a different world.

“No seas estúpida. I just can’t believe you waste your time on that. That’s all” Y/n shrugged, pulling away from Jaime as she felt her phone vibrating. She pulled it out of her pocket reading the text message and for the first time in forever Jaime tried to peak over her shoulder. He needed to know.

Jaime, please give Y/n her privacy. Respect is important in a relationship

Khaji-Da words made Jaime sit straight once again. Y/n turned to Jaime pecking his lips quickly, fixing her hair.

“I have to go but I will see you guys at night. We are still up for movie night, right? Twilight marathon” Y/n asked the siblings as she looked between them. Milagro nodded and Y/n smiled at her. Y/n took that as a sign, speed walking towards the door but Jaime followed her suspecting that something was going to happen if he let her go. He holds Y/n arm softly standing on her front porch stopping her dead in her tracks.

“Are you hiding something from me?” Jaime asked slowly, letting his words sink into her. Y/n looked at him confused.

“What are you on about? Jaime, I’m an open book with you. I’m not hiding anything” she replied calmly making Jaime tense even more. Was she really lying to him?

“Y/n I can see. I can see the hickeys on your neck” Jaime replied harshly leaving Y/n wide eyed. She swallows hard thinking on how to talk to her but before a word could slip out of her mouth her phone vibrates again.

“I really need to go. Can we please talk about this when I get back?” She replied waiting for Jaime to answer but he stayed quiet trying to fight the anger he was bottling up. When she noticed he wasn’t going to reply Y/n headed her way leaving Jaime on the porch with his emotions.

She hated herself for leaving her boyfriend after he accused her of cheating. Things weren’t looking good for her. All the sneaking around, all the little lies and the sleepless nights. She was hiding things but it wasn’t the fact that she was cheating. It all had one thing in common.

Spiderman.

Y/n knew spiderman a little more than Jaime and MIlagro thought. They had a deeper connection than they could ever imagine.

When she was fifteen she found herself walking home after a long day of school when she had stumbled upon a spider that not shortly after decided to bite her. But to her dismay she didn’t get deadly poisoned because of the bite instead she got inhuman powers. A radioactive spider gave her superhuman strength ,superhuman speed, superhuman reflexes, superhuman durability, spider-senses and other inexplicable superhuman things. That’s the day spiderman was born.

She didn’t hate superheroes. She in fact loved them. Shewould feel so accomplished when Jaime fangirled about spiderman but Y/n didn’t want to raise suspicions she acted like she hated everything to do with superheroes. No one in her family knew about her little powers and she intended to keep it that way. After losing her parents and her uncle she didn’t want her aunt to worry about her, she already had too much things on her plate. She wanted to protect the people she loved and if she wanted that they had to be unaware of her powers. When the bite happened she had started dating Jaime and around the same moment Jaimes obsession with Spiderman started. Y/n hadn’t agreed with the name spiderman but people assuming she was a man made the suspicion of it being her less. So she kept the name, after fighting crime alone in Palmera City some people have gained an eye on her, offering her place in the Justice League, which she gratefully declined not wanting to leave Jaime alone. So they would come around from time to time to work with her.

It wasn’t hard for her to hide the secret identity from Jaime. With him working late at night and helping around the house he didn’t have time to notice her sneaking out. But now living under the same roof and Jaime rarely going to work made it hard for her. The Justice League needed her help and she was doing the best she could while attempting to balance her relationship. Throughout all the mission Y/n thoughts wandered towards Jaime and how broken he looked when she left. She was going insane and counting the minutes for her to get back home. She couldn’t even feel the constant hits she was getting while fighting. She got back into reality when Batman decided that the mission was done. After that she swung through all the buildings trying to get there as soon as possible, not noticing the time. Y/n quickly climbed the walls of her house slipping into her bedroom window noticing that her door was opened. She watched as Nana walked past the door with her pjs assuring her that she was still on time for the movie night. She slowly crawled on her ceiling as she slipped her mask off. Y/n moved slowly trying not to make any sound as she threw a web to close the door so no one could see her change. When the door was almost closed , Y/n let go of the ceiling with ease letting out an exhausted sigh. She walked towards it tiredly pushing the last few inches closing it. After debating if it was a good idea to have that conversation with his boyfriend, she turned around to face her bed to rest her eyes for at least a few moments. But the shocked look on Milagros face made her freeze dead in her tracks. Milagro let the movies she had in her hands slip as she stared at Y/n with her mouth wide. Y/n followed her expressions trying to think of something to say.

“What was that?” Aunt Marisol yelled from the kitchen. Y/n swallowed hard, quickly biting her lip. She quickly turned around heading towards the door before anyone else could enter the room worried about the loud bang.

“ U-uh it-it’s nothing! Nothing.” Y/n exclaimed looking at the door but quickly looking at Milagro again. Her face was in utter shock as she tried to think of words to say.

“You’re the Spiderman from…..the news” She said slowly, still inspecting the suit, the shocked look on her face not leaving. Y/n breathing got unevenly quick as she tried to find some sort of excuse to shake Milagro off.

“I’m not. I’m not” Y/n replied nervously as she tapped her chest letting the suit expand, turning bigger which made it slip from her body leaving her in her underwear.

“You were on the ceiling,” Milagro replied pointing up at the ceiling, her hand shaking with nerves.

“No I wasn’t! Milagro what are you doing in my room!? You can’t just bust into my room!” With that she could hear someone's steps coming towards her room making her quickly move in front of Milagro as her aunt opened the door.

“The turkey meatloaf recipe es una mierda! We decided to order food. Are you guys, Milagro, do you want to eat something?” Aunt Marisol asked as she waved smoke out with a rag.

“Ye-”

“No! We already have food here for are movie night. Don’t worry Aunt Mary” Y/n exclaimed all jumpy trying to get her out as soon as possible.

“Okay then ... .Maybe but on some clothes” her aunt replied while pointing to her semi naked body. She quickly grabbed the nearest shirt covering her body while nodding. Aunt Marisol closed the door as both of them looked at the place she once stood at.

“She doesn’t know?!” Milagro whisperedyelled as she walked towards the door. Y/n slipped the shirt on blocking her path.

“No one knows! Well Batman knows because he made my suit but that’s it!” She said in the same tone, getting stressed out.

“Batman made you that? Are you in the Justice League?” Milagro asked excitedly. While she just shook her head nervously.

“Well basically… You can’t tell anybody about this, you have to keep it a secret” She said as she watched Milagro almost faint on her bed. As Milagro held her body against the nearest wall Y/n walked towards her.

“Secret what, why?”

“If she finds out, if Jaime finds out that there’s people out to kill me every night they are not going to let me do this anymore. Come on, Milagro. Please ” Y/n whispered-yelled with a panicked look on her face pointing towards the door.

“Okay, okay, okay. I will level with you. I don’t think you should keep this a secret. This is the best thing that has ever happened to you. I mean Y/n…” Milagro exclaimed wanting Y/n to tell everyone, specially Jaime and Marisol.

“They can not know! I can’t do that to them right now. You know…..with everything that is happening to her…to him…to them…to you, to us! Please Milagro” Y/n replied desperately trying to catch her breath. Milagro look at her knowingly, her gaze softening.

“Okay”

“Just swear it, okay?”

“I swear,” Milagro replied, smiling at her softly, trying to ease her nerves.

“Thank you…. I can’t believe this is happening right now. “ Y/n replied as she walked towards the other extreme of the room trying to calm herself.

“Can I try the suit on?…”

“No”

“How does it work? Is it magnets? How do you shoot the strings? Why are you spiderman if you are a spiderwoman?”

“I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow. I just need to rest, please” Y/n replied taking Milagros by the hand walking her towards the door.

“Wait, so you aren’t cheating on Jaime!” She replied before she left the room.

“No! It isn’t a hickey, it's a bruise from the fight you guys were reading about '' Y/n exclaimed before closing the door leaning her head against it. She scanned her room, her eyes failing on her mirror noticing she was wearing Jaimes “I love Spiderman”.

That’s why they say you should never meet your idols. It will be disappointing when you see how they truly are.

part two. part three

[MASTERLIST]

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 6 months

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How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 9)

Task Force 141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You go to Las Almas with Soap and Ghost and meet Colonel Alejandro and Sergeant Rodolfo

You are currently reading Chapter 9! Here is Chapter 8 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Violence NOTE: WAZZUP BITCHES, IM BACK I am very sorry for not updating for 4-5(?) months. I didn't mean to go on a hiatus without any announcements. Things had been quite busy for me lately and I focused on some things (FUCK COLLEGE BUT I PASSED ALL MY CLASSES ANYWAY), and also the reason why I suddenly "went dark" is because of the fucking MW3 Campaign. Yeah, shit destroyed me. WORD COUNT: 2.7k

You had been to Mexico once. You went to good places it held, but you also walked on the mud it hid in the dark. After all, there could never be a perfect country. Even if someone said that their glorious purpose was for the better good of their nation—most of the time, they were merely heroes in their own stories and villains in the others’. Well, Mexico had good food. You could give them that, at least. But this place, Las Almas, would it have good stuff as well?

You shook off your vest and Ghost’s jacket as the pilot alerted you of the time of the touchdown and slipped into your jacket, fitted to your frame. As much as you wanted to keep wearing the lieutenant’s clothes, you couldn’t risk getting harmed because of loose clothing and failing this stupid mission.

You turned to Ghost as you folded his jacket neatly. “Can I keep this?” you asked and smiled.

He stared at you for a good second, pools of honey you couldn’t read before he looked away. “Suit yourself.”

Your grin widened, and you stashed the jacket into your bag. You hummed as you put on your vest, tightening it to your liking. You patted your pockets, checking each of them, until you felt Ghost’s mask in one, fingers lingering on the soft fabric, and sighed. You put your hands down on your lap and leaned against the cold steel, waiting for the upcoming descent, which didn’t take long.

The plane opened up, and a busy facility greeted your sight. Vehicles drove in and out of the area, and soldiers went back and forth from one place to another. But even when they were bustling, you could feel their gazes land on you—suspicious and judging, whispering among themselves, voices drowned out by the loud exhausts of the transports.

It was something you wished you could get used to. At the same time, you didn’t want to, when eyes held more than they seemed.

You followed Soap and Ghost down the plane, walking towards a couple of men who stepped forward. One of them had his hands clasped behind him, while the other simply stood by his side. Both were, well, good-looking and buffed (which was normal for military men), but eh, not really your type.

They would make pretty models though.

Also, good human shields, if ever.

Johnny, being the everlasting sunshine he was, greeted them first, extending a hand to the man named Alejandro, and engaged in a conversation with him as though they had been long good friends. Then, the sergeants forced the poor lieutenant to join in, who sounded ready to strangle the scot.

Then, your eyes found the gaze of the man next to the Mexican captain on the monitor on your ankle. A frown spread on his face and worsened the moment he saw the smirk that crept up your lips, his eyes darting between you and the half of the 141.

The look of a man confused never failed to be an entertainment. And what was more the obvious expression that said, what the fuck is a criminal doing here? Or something in Spanish.

“And who is she?” Alejandro questioned, finally turning his eyes on you—or rather, down to your ankle, as if the monitor would be the one to answer him.

“She’s sent by General Shepherd,” Ghost immediately replied, batting an eye at you. “She may be a criminal, but she proved excellent in various ways that could be useful to us.”

Alejandro, albeit hesitantly, nodded and extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

You took his hand, giving it a quick shake. “I’m at your service, sir. And worry not about me going against orders, I pretty much like my head attached to my neck.”

He put a forced smile on his face, one you’d seen way too many times on people. “We’ll see about that.” He motioned at the man beside him. “This is Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra, my second-in-command.”

The said man, Rodolfo, extended his hand first to Soap, who the fellow Sergeant enthusiastically shook. Then, he batted an eye at Ghost, seemingly hesitant to approach him, but still decided to. Ghost, however, merely stared at his hand, and Rodolfo backed away, clearing his throat.

Soap stepped forward. “Ah, the Lt’s not much of a talker.”

Rodolfo nodded. “I understand.” He turned your way and reached out his hand, which you lightly shook, quickly withdrawing right after. He moved back to Alejandro’s side, who nodded his head towards a direction.

“Follow me, we’ll talk along the way.” Alejandro turned and began to walk, passing by and nodding at soldiers who saluted at him. By the end of the way—or seemingly at both an entrance and exit, several jeeps were parked, and a few soldiers stood by the vehicles. With a wave of hand from Alejandro, the men slipped inside the vehicles, and Rodolfo was the first to get in the first jeep on the line.

“I’d like to sit beside the window—” you attempted to request, but Ghost was quick to shut you off.

“No,” he said as Soap rounded the car, stepping in by the other side.

“But—”

“No.”

“C’mon, lassie, don’t you want to sit between us?” Soap questioned, a smile played on his lips.

You slipped inside with a grumble, inching close to the sergeant, before elbowing him. He grunted, but you knew it wouldn’t do much damage to him with all his muscles. At the same time, doors shut as both Alejandro and Simon got inside.

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas,” Rodolfo mumbled, slightly turning his head to face his colonel.

(I’m afraid of ghosts.)

Your eyes whipped forward, brows slightly raising at his words, which you perfectly understood. You glanced at Ghost, but he merely stared ahead. At the back of your mind, you wanted to snitch on the new guy just so some drama could happen between them, but at the same time, drama could lead to suspicion between these men.

This was why knowing some languages if you travel abroad was great. But it should be fine to keep quiet for now. What the sergeant said wasn’t suspicious, but if they did anything that could bring harm to Ghost and Soap, then . . .

On the other hand, Alejandro chuckled at the comment of his sergeant and looked back at the three of you. “You know Spanish?”

The Lieutenant remained silent, and you did the same, turning your head to the side to look out of the window, whilst Soap shook his head, and answered, “No.”

Alejandro drew a smirk on his face and turned his attention back ahead. “Oh, you will.”

Rodolfo started the car and drove out of the base.

“See,” you pointed at the window, begrudgingly looking at Simon, who stared indifferently at you. “This is why I want to be next to the window.”

The car passed by two-story buildings, seemingly houses or apartments, painted in pastel colors. People were walking and talking on the street, some vendors and their stands offering their goods, and some other vehicles were parked on the way. It wasn’t much, not even beautiful, but still you’d like to see everything you could see.

“Have you taken a liking to Las Almas?” Alejandro questioned, glancing back at you.

You put your hand down and turned your head on his way. “To be frank, it’s not a liking, sir, rather, it’s curiosity. I’m not from here or anything similar to this place, so I’d like to see how things work here.”

His head inclined a bit to the side, appearing to be thinking of his words. “You’ll be . . . disappointed.”

You smiled. “I’ll be the one to judge that.” Just as you finished your sentence, a truck with men riding on the back, guns in hand passed by. You couldn’t help but whistle at their ridiculous sight, and put your hand on top of Soap’s before he could grab his gun.

He frowned at you. “What are ya—”

“Calm down, sir,” you cut him off, pulling your hand away. “Seeing as no one on the street is reacting about it, pretty sure that’s normal here.”

“You’re right,” Alejandro spoke in a serious voice, once again looking back at you. “Guns are in the jurisdiction of the police.”

“Looks like Las Almas has a huge problem,” you commented and crossed your arms. “Much more than what I’ve heard.”

Alejandro shifted his eyes to you. “You seem to know something about Las Almas.”

With his words, Soap and Ghost also settled their eyes on you, as if they were ready to do everything to get answers out of your mouth. “I’ve been to Mexico, and during my stay, I heard of things about Las Almas. Not exactly the good ones as you probably expected, but I didn’t know things around here would be this bad.”

“When did you come to Mexico?”

“Over a couple of years ago, sir.”

“I see.” He turned back ahead. “Well, things weren’t that bad back then.”

“I suppose those who tried to uphold the laws and resist corruption met their end as the time passed?”

“You’re right.”

You hummed. “Well, without powerful backing to protect them, I doubt they’ll last much in a society like this.”

“And ya also seemed to know things about politics and stuff,” Soap claimed, slightly shifting on his seat.

You met his blue eyes with a grin. “I had met quite a few politicians in my life. Assassinated an Austrian before, and the one who hired me snitched on me. That’s why I ended up on Shepherd’s shackles.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How much of that is true?”

You laughed loudly, although you already knew what would be his reaction. “Take a guess,” you told him challengingly.

“The last sentence,” Ghost joined in, his voice monotone.

You snorted. “Except that.” Then, you gasped, throwing yourself to the window at Soap’s side, making him curse out something you couldn’t fucking understand in whatever Scottish was that. “Look, look, Lt!” You motioned your hand on Ghost to look at the ridiculous sight of someone in a skull balaclava giving balloons to kids.

“What the hell?” Soap’s bright eyes also followed the scene.

You whipped around and smiled at Ghost, who simply stared at you. “If you ever want to quit the military, you can retire with me and live together.”

“How about living in Las Almas since Ghost might fit well in here?” Rodolfo suggested in a soft voice. Alejandro hit him on the side, whispering something, and from the corner of your eyes, you saw Ghost slowly turning to look at him through the rear mirror.

You tilted your head. “But Las Almas has a serious problem when it comes to crimes, so I don’t think it is very much suitable to live in unless you want to be a crime lord or still in the military. And I’m the type of person who likes traveling around. If I were to settle for sometime somewhere else, it would be where I would have already spent some time on, like London, Berlin, or California and—”

“It’s just a joke, please. Don’t take it too seriously,” Rodolfo mumbled, sounding like he wanted to bury himself on the ground at the moment and never appear again.

On the way to the destination, Alejandro had talked more about the way of Las Almas, and finally, what you and the 141 came here for, El Sin Nombre, the leader of the Mexican Cartel who was protecting Hassan. Quite a reputation that person had as Alejandro said they had eyes and ears everywhere.

Having eyes and ears everywhere was also something the one who raised you did. Even if your father was in prison at the moment, you knew he was still pulling strings. A mastermind out of everyone’s league, until he decided to invest in you. Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, now that you were technically imprisoned as well.

You pulled out your balaclava and huffed, putting it on swiftly. You jumped out of the jeep right after Simon and you heard Alejandro spit out his commands in a low, serious voice. You rounded up with the soldiers before a gate and under the Colonel’s command, the group barged in. You frowned as you had seen no man in sight, seemingly the civilians had run away—or were mostly likely driven out by the Cartel.

Alejandro waved his hand to follow him up another gate, which this time, Ghost opened, and gunshots echoed in the air.

“Showtime,” you said under your breath, aiming your assault rifle and blasting a hole through a man’s head, vibrant red painting the dull walls around. You rounded a corner, cautiously looking out for an enemy. You spotted a couple of them, but before you could take them down, they had already fallen on the ground. Your head whipped at Soap and Ghost’s direction. “Showoffs,” you grumbled.

“Said the one who wanted to take two men down at the same time,” Soap remarked, giving you a look, and you heard Ghost huff.

You clicked your tongue and swiftly entered a house, but quickly moved back out as you saw not a soul in sight. Your frown worsened at the unusual lack of men to hold the group back. In these cases, either it would be a trap or they had escaped already.

You glanced over your shoulders. 141, some of Alejandro’s men and the Colonel himself were on sight. The walls obscured your view of the place, there were so many corners where men could be hiding themselves or something else, and such things as Cartels wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a run-down hide-out like this for their good.

Soap shot a man from the roof and Alejandro positioned himself in front of a door, motioning at us. “Secure the house, and we go for Hassan.”

Several voices echoed from inside the place, cursing and hushing one another.

“Take the door,” Alejandro commanded. Soap stepped forward, but you grabbed him, making him look at you.

Before he could utter a word, you kicked the door open, slid on the floor towards a corner, and struck a man awaiting in the hallway. You got up immediately, raised a hand so they wouldn’t follow you, and picked up a baby’s bottle on the ground, throwing it to a room through a slightly opened door. Shots were fired blindly right after and you countered it with a couple of bullets, and it stopped. You pushed the blasted door open and found a man lying on the floor, and the baby’s bottle rolling towards your foot.

“Room clear,” you announced, staring down at the bottle for a second, before moving to the next room. They followed you in and you braced yourself for another onslaught, but this time, Soap was the one who barged in, quickly shooting down the men inside without batting an eye.

“Room clear,” he said and put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

You looked up at him and raised a brow that he wouldn’t see.

Ghost sauntered in the room. “No sign of Hassan.”

Alejandro sighed. “They already moved him.”

You turned your attention to him. “They move fast, hm?”

He looked at you, letting Ghost and Soap rummage the desk across the room instead. “They do. Much more than I expected.”

“So they already know that we’re coming here,” you remarked.

“Highly possible. The Cartel has eyes everywhere.”

You narrowed your eyes and echoed, “Everywhere?”

He nodded to affirm it. “Everywhere.”

“You mean even among your men?”

He paused, staring at you for a good second. “No, I trust my men.”

“A weed is a weed, sir, no matter how good it looks in your garden,” you said in a monotonous voice, picking up a pencil from the ground. “Sooner or later, they’ll bring harm to your plants. And even the plants you put in your garden can bring harm to you if you don’t know what they are.”

Ghost and Soap shot an eye on you, before exchanging looks with each other.

He eyed you cautiously and his serious voice lowered. “What are you implying?”

You remained silent and so did he, until Rodolfo’s voice echoed in your headsets. “The army is rolling in!”

You can also read the series on AO3!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride @sarahedwards16, @sarahedwards16, @kenma-izhu, @kkaaaagt, @cassiecasluciluce, @unicorngirly1, @thriving-n-jiving, @squidalapobre, @tallicaside

(PLEASE DON'T KILL ME FOR NOT UPDATING (and I hope you guys still like to bother to read this fic?)

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scary-grace · 19 days

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 15) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 15

Your experiences with the cops have been mixed, but right now, the cops are so relieved that someone’s found Eri that they don’t ask you too many questions. They run your name through the database, of course, but when they come up with no prior arrests and the fact that you’re quirkless, you can actually see them write you off as a suspect. Sometimes your uselessness works to your advantage. You’re planning to make a clean getaway, but Eri wakes up as you’re trying to put her down and starts to cry. You try to remember who she said she wanted earlier. “Can you bring, um, Deku? She said something about him.”

Deku is a bizarre name for a hero. You wonder what Midoriya Izuku was smoking when he picked it out. “Let me see,” the officer on duty says. She smiles at Eri, who squeezes her eyes shut and hugs the plush corgi even closer to her chest. “I’ll make a call. You might have to wait with her.”

“That’s okay,” you say. You’re sort of interested to meet Midoriya Izuku. Tenko hates him, and you want to know what Tenko’s up against. “I don’t mind.”

It’s not a long wait. Maybe forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes of Eri tossing and turning restlessly in your arms, waking briefly and falling asleep again, sometimes crying whether she’s awake or asleep, before two heroes come barreling into the police station. You know the first one is Midoriya, but you’ve seen the second one before, too – Eraserhead, Class 1-A’s homeroom teacher. The one who was defending his psychopath student on national TV.

Anger flares up inside you, and you fight to tamp it down. You can’t look defensive or hostile. You need to look harmless and quirkless and maybe a little stupid, so you’ll register as such a nonevent that the idea of you being involved with the League of Villains will never cross their minds. Midoriya reaches you first, out of breath and a little panicked. “Eri! Are you okay!”

She stirs slightly, and while Midoriya’s trying to figure out how to yank her out of your arms while still asking nicely, Eraserhead arrives. He activates his quirk at once, although you’re not sure who he’s trying to use it on. “Why is she unconscious?”

“She’s sick,” you say. “She was like that when I found her.”

“Why didn’t you bring her to the hospital? That would have been the logical choice.”

“You’re supposed to bring lost kids to the police, aren’t you?” You let your face fall slightly. “I just wanted to do the right thing. I wasn’t sure.”

“You brought Eri back. That’s the most important thing.” Midoriya’s focused on her. “Where did you find her?”

“I was walking home from the grocery store and I heard something in an alley. I thought it was a cat, but I went to look and it was her.” You’re a better liar than Tenko is. You know how many details to add, when to be nonspecific. “Do you know how she got there?”

“We don’t comment on active –”

“The League of Villains took her,” Midoriya says, cutting Eraserhead off. “We rescued her from Overhaul – it was on the news – but they took her before we could take her to the hospital. They must have decided to give her back.”

“They dumped her,” Eraserhead corrects sharply. “Giving her back would entail taking her to a police station or a hospital.”

“But they couldn’t go there without getting arrested,” Midoriya says. He holds out his arms, and you pass Eri in her blanket bundle to him. He looks at you over her head. “Did she say anything about them?”

“No,” you say. An idea pops into your head and you run with it – something to push back on the story Eraserhead is telling himself, something to make Midoriya think he’s right. Something to confuse them both, to make sure that the story Tenko was afraid they’d tell isn’t the one that survives. “She had the blanket when I found her. And the toy.”

“Oh,” Midoriya says. Eraserhead doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t look happy. “She seems like she really likes it.”

Even in her sleep, she has it crushed to her chest. You keep playing dumb. “Can she keep it?”

“Of course,” Midoriya says at once. “Right, sensei – er, Eraserhead?”

“If nothing is wrong with it, and she wouldn’t prefer a toy not given to her by a villain, yes.”

So she will get to keep it. It’s just an ordinary toy. You’ve made the handoff to the heroes, and now you can go. But would the slightly brain-dead civilian you’re playing just go? You get to your feet, but hesitate. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes,” Eraserhead says. “She’ll be in good hands. Much better hands than she’s been in over the past twenty-four hours.”

You start nodding, ignoring the surge of frustration at the comparison between Tenko and Overhaul, and turn to leave. Eraserhead’s hand comes down on your shoulder as you’re walking away and scares the hell out of you. “What’s your name?”

“The police have it.” Wrong answer. If you had nothing to hide, you’d just have said your name a second time. You start babbling to cover up the error. “They looked me up and everything. Did you know they keep addresses? Like all the addresses I’ve ever lived at. It’s so weird!”

“Did you see anything?” Eraserhead asks. You shake your head. “Was anyone in the alley with her?”

You shake your head. “I only saw her. I wouldn’t have known she was there if she hadn’t made a sound.”

“She’s lucky you went to investigate,” Eraserhead says. The weird look you give him isn’t even slightly faked. “Most people wouldn’t.”

“Oh,” you say. “I – um – I’m glad I looked, too. It was – nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Midoriya says. He’s awkwardly rocking Eri. “Sensei, should we call an ambulance?”

“That would be best.”

They’re not paying attention to you anymore. You leave, feeling like you’ve dodged a bullet or ten.

The League is in a celebratory mood when you get back. Defeating Overhaul and cementing Tomura’s status as the next leader of the criminal underworld is a big deal, and you’re happy, too – but at the same time, you’re stuck on the fact that life as you know it is ending. If the Hassaikai could find you, other people could, too, and you’re still quirkless. Defenseless. It’s not safe for you to be here on your own. And Ryuhei was right. As the team’s medic, you have to actually be with the team to do any good. It’s right that you should leave. It was going to happen eventually. And you still feel like you’re losing something you can’t replace.

Because you are. After this, you won’t be a civilian anymore. Even if you’re not committing serious crimes yourself, the semblance of a normal life you’ve been maintaining will die away. You’ll be like your cousin Manami for real. Except that compared to what you’re mixed up in, Manami’s strictly small-time.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Spinner remarks, sprawling out with his feet up on your couch. It takes way too much effort not to cry.

You head back to your room to pack long before everyone else starts to settle down. What are you supposed to bring with you when you go on the run? Your costume, obviously. Medical supplies, obviously, which you’ll restock from the soon-to-be-set-up supply caches when you need to. Changes of clothes, deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush? You try to figure it out based on what the League’s been asking you to buy for them, and it already feels like you’ve got too much stuff in the backpack you’re bringing with you. And that’s not even counting the evidence.

There’s not much left of Shimura Tenko. You’re pretty sure you have all of it, and there’s not room for it in your backpack, even with the plush corgi finding a new home, and you can’t leave it here for whoever searches your apartment once you’ve gone missing. The smart thing would be to get rid of it. Crumple up the valentine, shred the photos, throw the album away, flush the locket down the toilet and forget about it all. But you don’t want to do that. You don’t want Shimura Tenko to exist only in your memory. If something happens to you, it’ll be like he never existed at all.

You fold the valentine carefully, slide it into an empty sleeve of the photo album. You bury the album at the bottom of the backpack. The locket lands on the nightstand, to put on later. That just leaves you with the journal. You haven’t read through it at all yet, and even though you’re pretty sure you’ll be flushing the pages down the toilet, you decide that you should read a few of them first.

It takes only a few seconds for you to wish you hadn’t. The journal starts when you’re seven, and all the feelings you hadn’t learned to hide yet are scrawled on the page. Anger, confusion, sadness, loneliness, hurt, guilt. So much guilt. You didn’t remember how hard your younger self had tried to find Tenko, how much trouble you’d gotten into for sneaking out to look for him. You didn’t remember how insane everyone made you feel – not just for believing that he was still alive, but for remembering him at all. It’s obvious in the weight of your pen against the paper, the heaviness of the strokes, the size of the characters. HE WAS REAL. HE WAS HERE.

As the pages turn and you grow older, your handwriting gets better, until the day you found out your parents were planning to wipe your memory, at which point you go insane for real. Given what a mess your handwriting was and how blurry and water-stained the paper is, you’re surprised you managed to pull it together long enough to hide the journal and everything else away.

You’ve always thought your parents were wrong to do what they did. You still think that. But when you read through the journal as an adult, you can catch the faintest glimpse of why they went that far. If you had a kid and they were doing this, you’d be worried. You wouldn’t know what to do. And if it was really you, you grown up for real with a kid you’ll never have, you’d be terrified, because you know where this leads. It leads to throwing away a decent life, a normal life, and following your best friend off the edge of the world.

There are a lot of pages in the journal. You have to flush them down the toilet in handfuls, and you’re so focused on getting rid of them that you don’t realize how weird it is to flush the toilet eight times in a row. Someone clears their throat and you look up to find Dabi and Toga watching you. “What are you doing?” Dabi asks.

“Disposing evidence.” You yank the last set of pages out of reach and flush them, too. “Get out of my room.”

Dabi leaves. Toga stays, poking through your bathroom cabinet. “Can I have this?” she asks, lifting up your meager makeup collection. You nod. “What about this?”

Perfume you never use. “If you want to carry it, it’s yours,” you say, and Toga grins. “Actually, if you help me pack, you can have whatever’s left in my closet. That you’re willing to carry.”

“You’re the best! I needed some new things.” Toga hugs you, then turns to your dresser and closet, all business. “Bring all your underwear. Like, all of it. We can’t do laundry very much and I don’t feel as gross when I can switch mine out.”

That’s reasonable. “Don’t bring anything with short sleeves or anything sleeveless. Warm stuff only. It’s getting really cold at night,” she continues. She starts taking things out of your dresser and putting them on the bed. You can’t tell if she’s picking them for herself or for you. “Find a way to wear your hair that won’t get messed up too easy. We won’t get to wash it very often, either.”

Your hair’s going to be hidden by the veil, but that’s still smart. Toga has more suggestions – clothes with sturdy fabric, bras that aren’t uncomfortable to sleep in – before she gets serious. “Period stuff. I made Mister shrink a whole bunch of it, but it sucks to have to ask him to un-compress it.”

“That was really smart, though. It makes stuff a lot easier to carry.”

“We should have him compress most of the supplies,” Toga says, her eyes brightening. “That way we can carry more!”

She runs off to tell Tomura and the others, and you go back to reorganizing your backpack to fit Toga’s must-haves in it. She comes back a few minutes later, all business once more. “If you have jewelry, bring it so we can sell it if we need money,” she says. “And just to have. It’s nice to look pretty sometimes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She throws a sock at you. “Being mean to yourself isn’t cute. Tomura-kun likes you how you are. Overhaul was really gross and even he liked you.”

“He didn’t like me. He just knew he could use me to get to Tomura.” You feel guilty when you think about it. You could have derailed Tomura’s plans so easily, just by being weak, being unable to fight for yourself. You need to fix that. “I wasn’t saying I’m ugly. I’m just saying I don’t think about that a lot. Anyway – jewelry?”

Toga nods, and you start digging your jewelry out of its various hiding spots. Rather than investing in a jewelry box with a lock that Compress could pick in two seconds, you scattered your small collection around your room, figuring Compress would give up the hunt rather than risk Tomura’s wrath. It must have worked, because everything is right where you left it, and none of it’s been replaced by one of Twice’s copies. You’re hoping Toga will let the subject drop, but she doesn’t. Not quite. “How did you make Tomura-kun fall in love with you?”

“That’s a strong word,” you say, thankful you’ve got your back to her right now. Neither you nor Tomura has said the L word. In your case, it’s not because you don’t feel it. You don’t know why you’ve held back on saying it out loud. “I didn’t make him. We just spent time together and it happened.”

“That won’t work for me.” Toga’s frowning. “I like Ochako – and Izuku – and Tsu. But they won’t spend time with me because they’re heroes.”

Your inclination is to tell Toga to find a more realistic crush, but you’re also not an asshole. “You’ve seen Ochako and Izuku at least twice, right?” you ask, and she nods. “When you see them next, try to make a strong impression, I guess. Since you don’t get to spend time with them very much, you have to make it count.”

“Something romantic,” Toga says, and you nod. “When I do that, can I have these earrings? Green looks good with my eyes.”

“Sure.”

“And what about this? Can I –” Toga breaks off, gasps. You turn to find her standing by the nightstand, your locket open in her hand. “Who’s this? Is this –”

You see it in her eyes when she realizes. She claps a hand over her mouth, which is good. Now you don’t have to do it for her. “You can’t tell the others,” you say, keeping your voice low. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t if you tell me everything.” Toga looks shocked and gleeful at the same time. It’s a weirdly intimidating expression. “Otherwise I have to talk to people so they can help me guess. I won’t need to if there’s nothing to guess about.”

You don’t want to tell anyone, but you want out of this conversation, and you don’t want it to leave this room. You sit down on the end of the bed, well clear of the stuff you’re trying to pack, and Toga plops down next to you cross-legged. “I knew him when we were kids,” you start. “We lived across the street from each other. We were best friends until – um –”

“He used to be normal?” Toga looks amazed. “What happened?”

“His quirk awakened. It –” You trail off. You’re not sure how to describe the carnage in what was left of Tenko’s house. It’s not your story to tell. “He disappeared after that. It was fifteen years before I saw him again.”

“How did you know it was him? He looks so different now than he does in the picture.”

“The scratching. He did that as a kid, too. And he remembered me, sort of.” You remember the way he froze when you said his name, how fast he ran from you. You’ve never asked him why he ran away. “There isn’t really that much to tell. That’s it.”

“Childhood sweethearts. That’s so romantic!” Toga beams. You’re not sure you want to call it that when the two of you were only five – but there’s a photo of the two of you swapping valentines right before you kissed him, so you can’t really argue. “He loves you so much. I can always smell when people are in love. He’d do anything for you.”

No, he wouldn’t. You’re pretty sure there’s one thing Tomura wouldn’t do for anyone. You search Toga’s face, looking for any hint that she’s planning to double-cross you. “I held up my end of things. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Why not? I bet they’d think it’s cute.”

“It’s not safe for many people to know,” you say. You think of how Tomura reacted when you told him Kurogiri had brought you to All For One, how relieved he was that you hadn’t revealed yourself. Even with All For One locked up in Tartarus, you don’t want that information getting out. “My friends Yoshimi and Mitsuko and Ryuhei know, and my other friend Kazuo. And now you.”

“Because we’re friends.” Toga hugs you from the side. “I’m so glad you’re finally coming with us! Jin is the best big brother ever, but I can’t talk to him about things like I can talk to another girl.”

“If we’re friends, we have to keep each other’s secrets,” you say. “Even if the others would think it’s cute. You have to promise not to tell.”

“Fine. I won’t tell.” Toga heaves a sigh. She snaps the locket closed and hands it back to you. “I should get one of these. I want pictures of Ochako and the others!”

“Maybe you can steal one,” you say, wondering if this counts as helping the League commit a crime. You’ve stayed out of Kazuo’s searches this long, but you don’t think you’ll be able to much longer. “And it’s not like pictures of them are hard to find. I’ll help if you get one.”

She hugs you again, and the two of you go back to packing. You fasten the locket around your neck instead of putting it on the nightstand. Now that multiple members of the League feel fine coming into your room without asking, it’s not safe to leave it lying around.

Toga’s tired by the time you’re done packing, and so is everyone else. When she leaves, you can hear them all settling down for the night in the living room, bemoaning the fact that this is the last time they’ll have a soft bed for a while. You, meanwhile, need to make sure your absence goes unnoticed for as long as possible. Tenko comes in while you’re composing an email to your supervisors, telling them that you need to take a leave of absence from work for the sake of your mental health. It would be a good idea even if you didn’t need to go on the run.

Tenko shuts the door, sits down behind you on the bed, and wraps himself around you. “What are you doing?”

“Covering my tracks. My family won’t notice for months, but work will notice I’m missing unless I give them a reason not to look.” You scan the email one last time and send it, then shut the lid of your laptop. “I should probably leave this here, right?”

“Maybe not. It would be good to have it,” Tenko says. He notches his chin over your shoulder. “If your job thinks you’re on leave, then it won’t look weird that you’re still connecting to the internet. You can probably bring your phone and keep in contact with the others, too.”

“Okay.” You slide your laptop and charger into your backpack. “But I still have to go.”

“Yeah. It’s not safe,” Tenko says. “The heroes might not have captured all of Overhaul’s minions, and he could have left instructions for them. And they won’t be the last enemies we make. I need you to be safe, and the only way I can make sure is if you’re with me.”

It’s quiet for a second. “Do you not want to come with me?”

“I do,” you say. “It’s just – I don’t know. The way I’ve been helping is the way I’m most useful to you. I can’t fight. I don’t have a quirk. I can find a weapon somewhere and I can do the medic thing, but –”

“Don’t say you’re useless.”

You weren’t going to, but it’s what you’re thinking, and Tenko knows you too well. He hugs you a little closer. “What else?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think it through all the way. “I want to know where this ends.”

“Overhaul really got inside your head, huh?”

“It’s not about him,” you say. You’ve opened this can of worms. You might as well dump it out. “When we were kids, it didn’t matter that we never won. There was always another day. We could start over as many times as we needed to, and try as many things as we could think of until something worked. But this isn’t like that. When people get hurt, it sticks. When they die, they die, and we can’t get them back.”

You think of Hirono and Sho. Of Magne, who’s not dead but who’s locked up with no way for you and the others to rescue her. “I don’t want us to keep fighting forever. I want us to win fast, before we lose anyone else. And I don’t know what winning looks like.”

“When all of this is destroyed,” Tenko says, like it’s obvious. “There’s no piece of it that isn’t built on lies. Even your job, the stuff you do – it wouldn’t have to happen if the heroes and the idiots who worship them didn’t keep throwing people away. It can’t be fixed from the inside, so we have to tear it down. I have to. It’s what I’m here for.”

You want to argue, but you won’t win. You know you won’t. “And what about after it’s gone?”

“I don’t know,” Tenko says. “But you do.”

You can’t manage anything more than a stunned silence. “I know it needs to be destroyed,” Tenko continues. “Anybody who’s not lying to themselves can see that. But I haven’t lived in it. Not like you and the others have. So when there’s nothing left, you can decide what to put in its place.”

He tucks his head in against the side of your neck. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin. “You were always better at telling the stories than me, anyway. They were never any good on the days you stayed home.”

“Don’t you have any ideas?” you ask faintly. “About what it should be like? It’ll be your world too.”

“You wanted to know where it ends. That’s where,” Tenko says. “We win when we tear everything down. When it’s all gone, you and the others get to choose what happens next. It should be mostly you. Maybe Spinner, too, if you need help with anything.”

“What about you?” Foreboding creeps over you, making your skin crawl. “Where are you going to be, Tenko? When this is all over?”

“When it’s all over there won’t be a point to me anymore.”

“No.” You twist in Tenko’s arms, putting the two of you face to face. He avoids your gaze, which is how you know you’re right, how you know that you picked up the real meaning in what he said. “That’s not how this works. It’s not winning unless you’re with me afterwards.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you with me or not?” He’s stubborn. You’re stubborn, too. More stubborn than he is – but he’s still talking. “It was nice to think about while we were here. What it would have been like to be normal. But that won’t happen. Not even after we’re done with all this, so there’s no point –”

“Who said I wanted normal?” You cut him off. “I’m your sidekick. That means I’m with you no matter what. So if you want me to get through this and build a new world, you’d better be planning to come with me. Because if you’re not, I’m staying right here with you.”

Are you making some kind of suicide pact? You don’t think so. You think you’re just trying to get it through Tenko’s head that the two of you are in this together, no matter where it goes or how far it goes. He’ll destroy this world that’s hurt him, that’s hurt the League, that’s hurt you and so many others – and then you’ll build a new one, one where everyone has at least a shot at being happy. Everyone. Including him.

Tenko still won’t look at you. You cup his face in your hands, run your thumb across the scar on his lip, and his gaze drifts back to you. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“I – yeah.” Tenko’s red eyes stay focused on yours this time. “I mean, I guess. If you’re serious.”

“I’m serious,” you say, and he kisses you.

He’s not wearing his gloves. You have to pull away so he can put them on, and then again to get more comfortable on the bed – and then again so he can take off his shirt. As soon as Tenko has his shirt off, he’s pulling at yours, and once it’s gone, he drags you into his arms, holding on almost painfully tight. He kisses you hard enough that his lips split in spite of your best efforts. He needs to slow down. You need to slow him down. But when you frame his face with your hands again, he melts against you in a way that’s impossible to resist. Maybe you’re the one who needs to change this time.

Every moment, every motion, fades seamlessly into the next. It feels natural to kiss the scar over the side of his mouth, and the birthmark below it, and move from there to kissing his neck. It’s natural to hook your leg over his hip, to roll to your back and pull him down on top of you. It only makes sense to peel off your pants and unbutton Tenko’s and slide your hand inside, palming him through his underwear. It feels right to kiss him while you touch him, even if it’s a shame to have to muffle the sounds he makes with your mouth. The destruction of everything and the creation of a new world feels so distant that it might as well be a dream. The only thing that matters is the texture of his skin under your hands, the brush of his hair against your cheek, the sound of his breathing and of his voice when he says your name.

“Stop,” Tenko says, his voice shaking, and you obey, withdrawing your hand from his waistband and resting it flat against his stomach. “I want – not like this. This time. I want us to – can we –”

He’s pulling at the waistband of your underwear, and it clicks in your head. There’s something the two of you haven’t done yet. “Sex,” you say. Tenko nods. He looks worried, like there’s a chance you’ll make fun of him or say no. “There are condoms in the nightstand.”

“I thought they were in the bathroom.”

“I moved them,” you say. “Is that weird?”

“No,” Tenko says. “You were thinking about it, too.”

You have been, on and off. You figured it would happen organically, but tonight is sort of your last chance to get your first time out of the way if you want your first time to happen in a bed behind closed doors. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you say. You wind your fingers into Tenko’s hair and tug lightly. “Want me to tell you what I’ve been thinking about?”

Tenko sucks in a breath. “Yes.”

You talk to him while he struggles out of his clothes and searches for the condoms you put in the nightstand. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you say, trying to shed any hint of self-consciousness. “I thought about riding you. Maybe holding your hands down, too – not so you can’t touch me, but so you don’t have to do anything but let me make you feel good. I thought about letting you take me from behind, so you’re in control of everything, start to finish. I’d trust you with that. I know you’d feel so good that I wouldn’t care about anything else.”

Tenko’s gloved hands are shaking as he tries to unwrap the condom. His cock looks almost agonizingly hard. “But then I decided,” you continue, trying not to stare, “that I want you on top of me, this time. I want to see you.”

“Why?”

“I like looking at you,” you say. You could get into it more, but you’re worried you’d embarrass him. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with the condom now that he’s opened it. Then again, he’s never been to sex ed. You take it from him. “I was thinking,” Tenko starts, then shudders as you roll the condom down over his length. “I – fuck, I don’t know, I’m not good at this like you are. I want – you –”

“We can work the rest out later.” You lie back, legs spread, and pull him down with you. “Let’s start here.”

You help him align his cock with your entrance, lift your hips to make it easier as he sinks into you for the first time. Tenko’s a stretch, just shy of uncomfortable, more than enough to make your head spin. Your hands are shakier than you want them to be as you reach for him, and the low moan that exits his mouth sends a rush of heat through you and makes your muscles clench tight. Tenko’s hips give a frantic jerk. “Don’t do that. I can’t last if you –”

“I can’t – not,” you gasp. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

Tenko’s hips jerk again. You see him grit his teeth, clench his jaw, and his first real thrust is shallow, shallow enough that your body aches for more. The next is deeper, but not by much, and the pattern he falls into deepens by increments, so small that you can barely feel a difference. You know he’s trying to hold himself together, trying not to come too soon, but it feels like he’s teasing you on purpose. Torturing you. almost. Giving you just enough of what you want that all you can think of is what you’re missing.

“Please,” you say, and Tenko’s eyes widen. “I need more. I don’t care if it’s over fast. I just want –”

He sinks into you to the hilt, leaving no space between you, and it takes all your willpower not to cry out. The pace he sets is faster this time, uneven enough to keep you on your toes if your toes weren’t curling already. The only problem is that it makes kissing difficult, and without it, you’re both a little too loud. Tenko’s trying to keep his mouth covered and keep his balance at the same time. You cover it for him with one hand while the other works its way between the two of you, finding your clit. You want the two of you to finish together, or close to it. You don’t want Tenko to worry that it wasn’t good.

You’re closer than you thought you were. A lot closer. “Tenko,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “Tenko, I need you. You feel so good like – there –”

You’d have helped him find this spot if either of you had the patience, but he’s found it on his own, and there’s nothing more you can do. A few uneven thrusts, the slightest pressure against your clit, and you’re coming on Tenko’s cock. You know instantly that you can’t keep quiet, and with both hands occupied, the only way to muffle yourself is to press your mouth against Tenko’s shoulder. He fucks you for a few more unsteady, rapid strokes as you tremble and whimper and moan into his shoulder. The barely-muffed sounds he makes when he comes send one last jolt through you, intense enough that you bite down.

Tenko slumps forward against you, shuddering. You free both hands to wrap your arms around him, holding on tight. And then it’s quiet in your room, save for the sound of his breathing and yours.

Your mouth is still glued to his shoulder. You can taste his sweat. Or maybe blood. How hard did you bite him? Embarrassment creeps in through the haze, worse when you realize you’re still clinging to him for dear life. You need to loosen up five seconds ago. “Sorry –”

“Huh?” Tenko sounds half-asleep, and two of you are working at cross purposes. You’re trying to let him go, and he’s settling in for a nap. “Don’t do that. It’s nice.”

He yawns. You can’t let him fall asleep like this. You shove lightly at his shoulder. “You can sleep in a second. We have to, um – disengage.”

“Why? I’m comfortable.”

He wants to fall asleep still inside you. That would be surprisingly hot if the condom wasn’t an issue. “The condom might leak. That’s not good.”

“It isn’t?” Tenko yawns again.

You can’t tell whether Tenko doesn’t know where babies come from or if he’s just being obtuse on purpose. “Getting pregnant when we’re about to go on the run would be really bad.”

“You were really good with that kid.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You don’t get an answer, and you decide you’re not going to worry about it right now. “Out.”

Tenko groans and pulls away. You have enough time to ditch the condom in the trash can in the bathroom, followed by the speediest bathroom break and hand-washing of your life, and as soon as you’re within arm’s reach again, Tenko yanks you back down. He flops down into the same position as before, minus actually being inside you, and you decide the comment from before can’t go unaddressed. “Me being good with kids wouldn’t make it less stupid to screw around with birth control.”

“Yeah,” Tenko says, although you’re not sure of how much of it he actually got. His breathing is already starting to even out. “I didn’t know you kept the dog.”

“I kept everything you gave me,” you say. “Are you mad I gave it to her?”

Tenko shakes his head, burrowing deeper into your shoulder in the bargain. The bitemark you left is already bruising. “You win,” he says. You’re puzzling over that, your own eyelids growing heavy, when Tenko speaks again. “I love you.”

Your jaw drops. Toga told you that Tenko felt that way, that she can always tell when someone’s in love, but hearing it come out of his mouth is something else entirely. Some part of you is elated to hear it. That part of you wants to shake him awake and kiss him and tell him that you love him, too – and not so subtly suggest depleting your condom supply a little bit further. That would be the thing that makes sense, the normal thing to do, the thing that somebody who’s loved him for as long as you have to do. You do love Tenko. You loved him when you were children, and you’re in love with him now as an adult. So why does the thought of saying so fill you with terror?

It’s not like you’ve never told someone you love them before. You told Kazuo, when the two of you were dating. It felt easy then. You talked to your cousin about it afterwards, because the two of you were close, and she was surprised to hear you say so. “It’s never easy for me,” she said, and you couldn’t quite hide your own surprise. “It’s easy to feel love. When I love somebody I feel so much I can’t stand it. But saying it out loud makes it real. Saying it changes them, and it changes me. So it’s harder to say for me than for you.”

You always thought that was because of Manami’s quirk, which powers up the person she loves most when she tells them how she feels, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s hard for you to say to Tenko because it makes it real in your head – more real than being his girlfriend, than basically moving him into your apartment, than quitting your job and going on the run with him and his villainous organization on a mission to tear down the old world. It’s stupid to think that way, when it’s everything you’ve done that makes it real. After everything you’ve done, everything you’re planning to do, you’ve proved your love for Tenko. Maybe you don’t need to say it out loud.

And maybe Tenko didn’t mean it, either. The two of you just slept together for the first time, and Mitsuko always says that you can’t count on anything a guy says until at least an hour afterwards. It was just an aberration, and it’s not like he’s waiting for you to say it back – he’s fast asleep in your arms, maybe drooling a little bit on your shoulder. There’s nothing for you to worry about. You close your eyes.

It takes you a second to get your bearings in the morning, to remember everything that happened yesterday. It was a lot. Overhaul almost had you kidnapped. You returned the girl the League kidnapped to the police. You realized you’d be going on the run and had sex with Tenko for the first time, and – you become conscious of someone watching you, and you open your eyes to find Tenko, awake before you for once and watching you with his chin propped in his gloved hand.

His hair is messy and his lips are cracked and stained with dried blood, but he looks well-rested for once. “What is it?” you ask. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, uh –” You struggle with forming the question. “Why are you staring?”

“You’re my sidekick, and my girlfriend, and we leveled up so hard last night that I slept like a rock.” Tenko cracks a grin, and a new split appears in his lower lip. “And I love you. Is that a good enough reason?”

You reach out and pull him in for a kiss, hoping he’ll count it as a yes. You lick the blood away from his lips and run your fingers through his tangled hair and do everything you can to ignore the twinging in your chest, the weight on the tip of your tongue. You love Tenko. Saying it might change things, but you can’t avoid saying it forever. It isn’t right. And with your involvement in the destruction Tenko’s planned for the world all but assured, you need to do the right thing where you can.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shimura tenko x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #please hold #man door hand hook car door

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midnightjewel · 3 months

Note

Omg can I request a bakugo or kirishima x reader where the reader had a career ending injury and can’t be a hero anymore and they’re like rly upset and agitated at everyone and their s/o is trying to help them and eventually like she just breaks down because all she wanted in life was to be a hero and now she can’t do that :(

Omg yes this is such an amazing idea/ask! Thank you so much for requesting I hope its okay that I only did Kirishima maybe I can do Bakugo at another time because I really enjoyed writing this for you! I hope you like it! <3

Characters Included: Kirishima

Warnings: Injuries, Mentions of Sex and Cheating, Panic Attack mentions

(18+ Only Please!!!)

You can’t remember what life felt like without the constant pain in your knees and back. You were miserable most of the time and although you tried not to show it, your husband knew you better than anyone else. You knew it had been almost two years since the accident but you still remember it to this day…

It was a dangerous rescue mission, of course you knew that. Any mission that you went on was risky. You were a rescue hero due to your quirk not doing much in combat you decided it was better for you to devote your pro hero career to rescue missions. You had extreme flexibility and could fit into small spaces while maneuvering your body in any way you want.

It has been a tiring day and you want nothing more than to go home to your husband and just sleep. You were sore from overusing your quirk, not to mention the mental stress you were under. A high end villain group had taken three hero’s in training as hostages and you were selected along with some of your colleagues to rescue them. As you crawled through the vents you could hear the voices of interrogation becoming louder. Your heart was racing as you realized that you were heading in the right direction in just a matter of minutes you’d be alerting hero’s to the location of the hostages. Despite you being completely terrified of anything going wrong you couldn’t imagine how those young adults must be feeling. They were only 20 years old and just getting into becoming hero’s out in the field. This was going to be completely traumatic for them so you knew that the difference between life and death had to do with you.

As you crawled down the vents you were eventually able to find an opening where you were lucky enough to peer into the exact room where they were keeping the three hero’s. Despite the small space you were able to grab your mission device and alert the other hero’s of the location you were at. You pinged the team which consisted of Dynamite, Shoto, and Deku. You sent the exact location and made sure that they saw it by responding with the thumbs up that the device featured. You made a point to send your location to Jirou. It wasn’t uncommon that the two of you would be paired up together as you two were some of the top rescue hero’s in the nation right now.

You heard some scramble got through the vents and held your breath in hopes that it was her. Once you had gotten the buzz for a message you checked your device and it was thankfully her alerting you that she was right behind you. You nodded for her to see that you understood and she gave you two taps on the calf to give reassurance. Your stomach turned as you heard explosions in the distance. They were nearby and you were getting more nervous with anticipation by the second. You wanted this to go smoothly, it was such a hassle to find this hideout you would hate to fail these three people because something as little as one mistake costs you the mission.

The rickety building shook with the explosions that were getting closer. As you felt the buzz of your device you looked to check. It was Jirou alerting you that she was going to alert the rest of the rescue team and the other pro hero’s of the status. You pressed your boot to her for contact in showing that you understood. With that you heard her quietly back out to go do her part of the mission.

After a few minutes of waiting you decided to climb down out of the vent as the villains were evidently being taken care of and they wouldn’t come into the room. You quietly opened the vent before maneuvering yourself down and landing in a position where you ere bound to make the least noise. You heard gasps from the three victims and you motioned for them to be quiet as you quickly untied them. “Out that door and down the stairs then take a left and the police and rescue team are waiting at the end” you quietly tell them as the waste no time running out the door. Just as you were about to search the room for crucial evidence like you heard a door open that you hadn’t noticed before as you stiffened you hoped it was one of the hero’s but with your luck it wasn’t a hero.

“You’re going to pay for that” a low voice spoke. You turned around ready to give your all in close combat if you had to but fear overtook you and just after deciding to turn around to look at the villain you decided that leading them in the direction of the police was a better option. As you went to run out of the door that you had recently sent the victim’s out of you were grabbed by the leg and tripped up as you fell forward onto the hardwood floor with an agonizing pain in your left knee. You had been injured before but it was never this severely painful. You couldn’t help but to scream out in pain as you knew something had torn. The three hero’s must have heard and been finished with the outside villains as they rushed into the room where they heard you scream. As they entered the room quickly you had been picked up by the furious villain and thrown against the brick wall of the room causing you to cry out again as it was evident that something in your back was now severely injured, maybe even broken.

“Katsuki you’re the fastest bet!” Deku yelled “Get her to an ambulance she’s bleeding from her head!” Was the last thing you heard before being picked up and blasted away from the scene by the blonde whom you’d been friends with since your days at UA. Next thing you knew you were on a stretcher with a red blob standing over you. As you blinked your eyes focused a bit more.

“Babe! You’re gonna be okay I’m right here!” He held your hand and you could recognize that voice from anywhere. It was your husband. “I’m scared” your eyes welled with tears as you became aware of the pain pulsating throughout your body. “You’re gonna be fine I wont leave you” he frantically speaks as he tried to shield your bloody body from the tabloids and press who were trying to get answers and pictures.

“Get the fuck away from her!” You heard Katsuki speak as the police and first responders tried to get the crowd under control. You were carefully loaded into an ambulance with your husband who kept his word of not leaving you as he followed you into their ambulance.

You remember it like it was yesterday. Constant rounds of physical therapy and all types of medical procedures put your hero career on hold for 11 months. When you did return it was short lived before you publicly had a ptsd panic attack during a villain attack that you were working, leaving Pinky and Dynamite all on their own. From there it was evident that there was no return to your line of work that you loved so very much. You had worked your life away to peruse this career all to have it thrown away in one mission.

The tabloids and media were brutal after your accident and panic attack sending you into a shameful hate spiral and you eventually went into hiding as you didn’t want to be seen in public anymore. They made up the worst rumors and stories that seemed believable causing people to side against you online. Of courses there were good people who undoubtedly defended your honor those being your fans, your former colleagues, and friends. You didn’t even want to be seen by them, too embarrassed of your physical state. You had a limp now, you were completely embarrassed of the way you were. You weren’t even sure why Kirishima was still with you, most days you wore the same clothes as the day before, you didn’t keep up with your beauty regimen that kept you looking your best when you were at your prime just two years ago. You and Kirishima were the it couple of the hero world but now you knew you were totally out of his league.

You two weren’t as intimate as before, going from doing the deed at least once a week to only having sex once every few weeks. It was because of your back and knee pains, you weren’t able to go for long without being in immense pain and you couldn’t help but miss those long intimate sessions where your husband would spend hours ravaging you. As much as you hated it you knew he probably hated it too and that made you extremely insecure to know that your husband was disappointed in your sex lives.

Through everything else you tried to remain strong, you always hated breaking down in front of people. It made you feel weak and as if you were a bother to them. As you sat up in bed, mindlessly scrolling though twitter while waiting for Eijiro to get home you came across a recent article about you, “(Hero Name), her career ending accident and why she disappeared”

You were curious about the elaborate story they made up thus time so you hummed in annoyance as you clicked on it preparing to read something that was completely false and was clearly only made for views. And it was fake, but there was something that caught your attention “She isn’t what she used to be I’m sure. All I know is that Red Riot seems to be running around with an alleged mistress probably to make up for his wife’s lack of sex life” one quote read and you felt the air get caught in your throat, you had some doubts about if he was happy before but pushed that away not wanting to question your husband and his loyalty. As you read on it was evident that this article was not truly about your husband and his alleged affair as there was absolutely no evidence provided but it was just to take jabs at you.

“Is there any proof of an affair?” “No, but I would cheat on her if she caused me this much misery” as you read that the tears started to pool in your eyes. They were probably right and it hurt that people who disliked you that much would take time out of their lives to make yours miserable.

You jumped as the bedroom door opened to reveal your husband who always smiled brightly at you when he got home from work. “How’s my love bug doing?” He kneeled bedside you and you tried to hide the tears that were still threatening to fall but after being married for 5 years he could always tell when things weren’t right. “Hey don’t cry” he immediately scooped you up in his arms while being careful not to hurt you. “I’m so sorry I make you miserable and I just can’t live like this anymore I miss being a hero” you sob and he holds you tighter knowing that this was bound to happen some day. After putting up a strong front for so long you had finally broken down. “Shhhh its okay angel just say what on your mind and i will comfort you for everything after” he reassured and you nodded “I worked so hard to get where I was and it was taken away so fast I can’t fathom that this will be my life forever” you cry “I’m sorry I don’t look beautiful anymore, I’m sorry you have to provide for both of us, I’m sorry I’m so depressed, I’m sorry we don’t have sex, and I’m sorry that I’m a pathetic excuse for a wife” you let it all out and he stiffens. Had you been feeling this way all this I time?! How could he be so stupid he thought to himself. “Baby you are everything and more! I want you and only you, I’m so sorry about your hero career I know how badly you want it back and I’m so sorry that I can’t give it back to you” he holds you tightly as you continue to sob in his arms

As your cries dies down you began to apologize “I’m sorry I broke down I just couldn’t take it anymore” you explained and he shook his head in disbelief, You were feeling so miserable and yet you were still apologizing to him. “You have nothing to apologize for my love” He kissed the top of your head “If anything, I’m sorry that I didn’t notice that you felt this way. I will do anything it takes to make you a hero again” he states and your heart skips a beat at his words “What?” You look up at him with wide eyes “That’s right, training, doctors visits, you name it. Whatever it takes to get you back doing what you love I will be there” he tells you and your heart sinks at the thought of making your injuries worse. “I can’t go back honey” you defeatedly state “Nobody wants a hero with a pathetic limp”

#anime #bnha #my hero academia #mha kirishima #bakusqaud #mha bakugou #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #sorry for being depressing #angst

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runariya · 1 month

Text

My Beloved Villain (JJK) • Chapter 4

pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn fic rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, fluff, inner conflicts between good and bad, thoughts about murder, lies, date night, fluff, Jungkook is a hopeless romantic (let me live, I can't write him any other way), detailed description of assass!nation and fighting, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 7.3K

a/n: not edited - sorry 🥺

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • masterlist • 05

Like morning dew burning off beneath the warmth of the sun, the anticipation for your upcoming date with Jungkook became a soothing balm, easing the sting of your failed plans as they fade into insignificance. The thought of it has been with you all day yesterday, lurking at the corners of your mind, filling you with an unfamiliar, innocent lightness. There is something about the idea of being with him—outside of your daily routines, in a space where you can allow yourself to relax, just for a moment—that makes everything else seem distant and irrelevant.

And as the hours of the day passed in a series of shared classes, the world shrunk to just the two of you, a comfortable rhythm that left you both physically drained but somehow still energised by the sheer presence of one another. His attentiveness, the way he slid a snack bar onto your desk just when your energy had begun to wane in the afternoon, made you feel like a simple girl worth of care. And though you don’t often let yourself indulge in such sweet feelings, you couldn’t help but hope that you’ll find a way to return his kindness tenfold.

Now, in your very first class of the next day, you sit side by side in the lecture hall, fingers quietly tapping at your laptops as you take notes on the professor’s monotonous ramblings. It’s the same droning voice you’ve been subjected to since the class started an hour ago, and the coffee that once kept you alert is losing its grip quicker than you hoped it will, leaving you teetering on the edge of exhaustion and resignation before the day even started. Every word of his feels like it's passing through a fog, and you find yourself struggling to focus as the professor drones on and on and on.

It’s only when an incoming email notification pops up in the lower-right corner of your screen, and, almost in perfect synchronicity, you notice the same alert flash on Jungkook’s laptop beside you, that the fog barely lifts. The click of typing halts as you and Jungkook pause, exchanging brief glances with raised eyebrows before turning your attention back to the notification.

The subject line catches your attention first, sent from the university’s secretariat. The body of the email, however, is harder to grasp in its entirety, your eyes skimming the opening lines, as you catch only fragments—words like visit, top-students, and mayor. A deep sense of unease begins to build in your chest, even before the loud rap of knuckles against the lecture hall door interrupts the class.

Instinctively, you look up as the door creaks open, revealing the dean standing in the entranceway. His gaze sweeps over the room, disinterested in most of the students until it lands on you and Jungkook. His face splits into a smile so fake it looks like it was sculpted by hand, each muscle strained into place where you know they’ve never been there before. He exchanges a few words with the professor—empty pleasantries at best—before addressing the room in a louder voice.

“Jungkook, Y/N,” he calls over all the heads sitting in front of you, “you’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Please, follow me immediately.”

The wild noise of your inner darkness roars to life, a deafness that fills your ears and clouds your senses. The discomfort ripples through your body, tightening your grip on your laptop, but you can’t focus on anything other than the way your heartbeat has quickened. You don’t trust this sudden summons, don’t trust in you not having the control. Not at all.

“Come on, let’s go,” Jungkook whispers, nudging you lightly with his elbow as he begins to pack up his things. His smile is small but proud, as though this is a reward, a recognition of his hard work.

You follow him on autopilot, closing your laptop with a dull *thud* that echoes across the silent lecture hall. You barely notice the eyes on you as you both rise from your seats, barely register the beginning of curious murmurs or the professor’s lackluster attempt to regain control of the room. The only thing that barely grounds you is the presence of Jungkook beside you, his excitement not affecting you in the slightest.

When you step outside, you’re met by your friends, the rest of the group classified as “top students”. Yoongi and Jennie stand with bored indifference, neither seeming particularly interested in the sudden shift in the day’s events. Hoseok, on the other hand, mirrors Jungkook’s enthusiasm, his smile wide and full of good-natured anticipation. But it’s Taehyung who catches your eyes. He throws you a glance—concerned, questioning if you’re okay—but you shake your head subtly, silently willing him to stay calm. Whatever is happening, you’ll figure it out soon enough.

The dean doesn’t give you much time to think, as he’s already moving, expecting you all to follow like obedient ducklings. “Mayor Park will be arriving in half an hour,” he explains hurriedly, his voice clipped with stress. It’s only now that you notice the small sweat beads on his temple and neck, his white dress shirt turning translucent under his arms. “The press will be here as well, so be prepared for a spectacle. Mayor Park is here to meet you all, give some motivational speech, and for the usual PR. It’s crucial that you present yourselves well. You’ll be representing the university, so do not embarrass us! Go grab your lab coats and make yourselves look respectable. We’ll meet back at the main building in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, you hear me—no later!”

“Yes, Dean Yoon,” comes the collective response, though it’s more out of habit than genuine respect.

As the dean disappears down the hallway, the group begins heading towards the autopsy building to retrieve your lab coats. There’s some tension hanging over the group, though everyone seems to handle it differently.

“This is such a waste of time,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks beside you. “Like any of us care about some politician showing up to stroke his own ego.”

Jennie chuckles softly, flicking her hair over her shoulder, grazing your face as she walks before you. “It’s all for show. He doesn’t care about us either. We’re just props to make him look good in front of the press.”

“Props in lab coats,” Hoseok adds with a laugh. “But hey, free publicity, right?”

Jungkook is still smiling, his steps lighter than usual as he walks beside you as well. “I think it’s kinda cool. It’s not every day you get to meet Mayor Park, right? Maybe it’ll be fun.”

Yoongi gives him a pointed side-eye but doesn’t argue. Jennie just shrugs, her expression one of mild amusement as she looks over her shoulder, while Hoseok just grins, clearly not as bothered by the situation as Yoongi is. Taehyung, however, remains quiet, his usual playfulness subdued as he walks close behind you. You can feel his concern on your back, even though he says nothing, which you’re grateful for.

The enthusiastic conversation between Hoseok and Jungkook resumes all the way to the lab and while retreating your coats, but you stay quiet, lost in your own thoughts as you make your way to the autopsy building. The upcoming meeting with the mayor sits truly and utterly wrong with you, it disturbs your mind and peace, an unease that you can’t shake, making you restless, jumpy even. You hate not having control, especially when he’s involved, but you try to focus on the present, on the normalcy of walking with your friends, and preparing for nothing other than yet another tedious formality in your academic life. But it’s hard, the discomfort remains and clings to you like fluff to an old sweater.

The others still continue their conversation, Hoseok teasing Jungkook about his excitement, while Yoongi mutters something sarcastic about politics, but still, you just can’t seem to pay attention as the words fly over your head, your mind too preoccupied with the ominous feeling that’s been growing inside you since the dean’s arrival.

The walk back to the main building feels longer than it should, each step weighted down by the knowledge of what’s, or rather who’s waiting for you. As you near the entrance, the sight of the press setting up their cameras and microphones inside only heightens your unease. The dean is already there, waiting for you with a forced smile plastered on his face, his eyes darting between the clock and the approaching figure of Mayor Park’s entourage.

You all line up in a neat row inside the grand lobby of the main building, the sterile scent of freshly cleaned floors filling your senses, while the cameras are being prepped before you. The silence among you as you stand there doesn’t do much to make your thoughts clearer, every train of thought again and again broken off by the occasional shuffle of feet or the rustling of lab coats as you adjust yourselves into position. The others stand with varying degrees of interest and boredom, but you can’t seem to focus on yourself, can’t shake the consuming tension that’s been knotting tighter in your intestines since this fuss began.

Just as you get your breathing to even out, the grand doors swing open, and Mayor Park enters with a flourish, his well-tailored suit pristine under the lobby lights. He walks with a politician’s disgustingly practiced grace, his smile wide and calculated for the cameras now running. But your focus isn’t on the cameras. No—your gaze locks onto the three figures walking your way, your inner demon waking as if never slept to begin with.

The darkness spreads within you in milliseconds, making your skin prickle as your focus settles into one of a sniper. You’re eyes lock on Sangwook, his presence reminding you bitterly of the night you almost had part of your revenge, the night Pulse interrupted, the reason you’re still fighting this war at its beginning, still caught at the beginning of the shadows, still haunted by unfinished business. You can feel the darkness rising even more within you, clawing at your insides, hungry, restless like you’ve been the past half an hour.

But you force it down. Not here. Not now. Not with Jungkook standing beside you, not with your friends all around you, and certainly not with the press before you, cameras poised to capture every moment of this charade. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you bite back the urge to confront the devil and his companions. This isn’t the time for vengeance. You have to regain and stay in control. You have to keep up the act.

As Mayor Park steps forward to greet each of you in turn, offering hollow words of encouragement and praise, you school your expression into something neutral, something polite. But inside, the storm rages on, a battle between the light you’ve been trying so desperately to embrace and the darkness that has been your constant companion for so long. And when it’s your turn to shake Mayor Park’s hand, you can feel everyone's eyes on you, as if watching, waiting.

His hand lingers before you, PR-smile still fixed on his face, but his eyes—they are as empty as they were on that fateful night, void of anything possibly human. For a moment, you consider leaving him there, hand outstretched and waiting, watching the false warmth fade from his expression. But against your instincts, against your demon raging inside you, you reach out.

You clasp his hand strongly, calculating your movement, as your grip tightens deliberately around the base of his hand. And when for a millisecond his eyes flicker down to where your hands are joined, you know you’ve pressed the Ulnar nerve just right, sending sharp jolts of pain shooting through his pinky and ring finger, showing him that you did not break, that you rose from the ashes of the very flame he set to your family.

“It’s good to finally meet after all these years,” he says, his voice dripping with saccharine mockery. “Your father was such a loyal employee.”

The words, the false description of your father’s job, are poison, seeping into your veins, igniting the fury into a massive fireball that explodes under your skin. Loyal. A word meant to twist the knife deeper. You hold your smile, hollow and cold, a ghost of something real. Jungkook stands beside you, his confusion barely concealed as his gaze shifts between you, the mayor, and the tension between your clasped hands.

Dojin leans closer, tightening his grip, voice dropping to a near whisper as his disgusting perfume engulfs you. “You know, you look just like your mother. Truly angelic.”

Something inside you snaps. But the smile on your lips only widens, growing more hollow, more sinister. The words slither through your clenched teeth. “Funny, isn't it? It almost sounds like you’re seeking absolution in my resemblance to her. How quaint.” Your voice is laced with venom so sweet it almost passes as kindness.

For the briefest of moments, his smile falters, and beneath it, the rage—the same rage that lit up his eyes all those years ago—flares up, hot and visceral. But he masks it quickly, releasing your hand, and turns away to spout his lies to the press, painting the air with rehearsed phrases that drip with insincerity.

Jungkook leans in then, his voice soft but still filled with honest concern. "What was that?" His words are gentle, but his eyes are searching, trying to piece together the puzzle of your interaction.

You tilt your head slowly towards him, the smile still lingering on your lips, twisted and lunatic. “Just what it looked like,” you murmur, offering no more. The truth is buried too deep, and even if you tried, you know he wouldn’t understand the whole expanse of it all without disclosing everything. Sensing the wall you’ve built, or realising for the first time that there is one, Jungkook says nothing more, though you feel his eyes linger on you.

As the circus of an event winds down, the room empties, leaving behind nothing but the fading echoes of empty speeches. You drift with your friends towards the door, slipping back into the flow of meaningless chatter, though your mind remains miles away. Right before you step outside, you catch a fragment of the faint conversation of Dojin and his bodyguards, but it’s Jungkook who draws you back, his body shifting into your line of sight, blocking your view of the men who ruined you.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you ask, your voice distant, as if you’ve just returned from some far-off place.

Jungkook repeats himself, his tone gentle, patient. “I was asking if you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you reply, the lie slipping easily off your tongue, though your mind screams otherwise. 'Save me,' you think, but Jungkook doesn’t hear what you cannot say, and instead, he watches you again for a beat longer, blinking in his concern. But eventually, he lets it go, leaving the darkness surrounding your mind in peace.

Standing before your closet, your fingers linger over hangers as you wrestle with a rising panic. The wardrobe, once a reliable collection of your well maintained comfort, now seems to mock you with its lack of options. It feels absurd, really—the way you’ve spent nearly an hour staring at clothes that have never failed you before. But this time, the stakes are higher. This isn’t just another day, another class, or another mindless hangout with friends. This is a date with Jungkook, and not just any date—your first real date. The thought sends your mind spinning in circles, reexamining every outfit with a critical eye that never seems satisfied.

You keep telling yourself you’re overthinking it, and maybe you are, but as the minutes slip by, your nerves cling tighter around your brain. A decision must be made, and eventually, as time conspires against you as well and forcing your hand to make a forsaken choice, you settle on something that has always made you feel like the best version of yourself—simple yet chic. The outfit flatters your silhouette just enough to remind you that beauty can be effortless when it’s honest, so you pull it on, check yourself in the mirror, and despite the chaos in your head, you can’t help but feel a spark of confidence. You might have just overthought your way into something that actually works—yey!

Makeup follows, the ritual of it calming your frayed nerves, brushstrokes turning anxious energy into something delicate and intentional. By the time you’re done, you hardly recognise the reflection staring back at you, though you’re not sure if that’s because of the makeup or the sight of yourself as you once were.

A knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts, and you take a deep breath, smoothing your outfit one last time before going to open the door. But when you pull it open, you’re not met with Jungkook's familiar face, not at first. Instead, an enormous bouquet of white hydrangeas and roses takes up most of the doorway, its sheer size almost comical in its grandeur.

Jungkook is barely visible behind it, but he leans to the side, a soft, tentative smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with a brightness that catches your breath so painfully good, you have to suppress a choke. You’ve seen him look at you countless times, but this time, there’s something different in his gaze—something that makes the air between you crackle with emotions never spoken of.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice light, almost playful.

Your face splits into a wide grin, the sight of him nearly lost behind the monstrous bouquet sending a ripple of giggles through you. “Kook, you really didn’t have to.” But even as you say it, you know how much it means. He always knows how to surprise you, how to make you feel cherished in ways that words sometimes fail to capture.

His smile softens, eyes sparkling as he steps forward, handing you the bouquet which you barely can engulf. “I wanted to,” he says simply, and there’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart beat just a little bit stronger. “You deserve the world and more.”

You stare at the flowers, your heart swelling as a few tears threaten to blur your vision. “I… I’m speechless, Kook. This is…” you laugh, your voice shaking just enough to betray the emotion within you. “But why this size? That’s so expensive!”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he watches you cradle the bouquet in your short arms. “I’ve seen you scrolling through Pinterest enough times to know what you like,” he teases.

The flush that creeps up your neck feels like a deep red now, your face burning as you attempt to play it off. You turn towards the kitchen, the flowers still balanced poorly in your arms. “I’m going to need a bigger vase for these,” you joke, though you’re already searching for a bucket, anything large enough to hold them.

Jungkook follows behind, his presence filling the small space of the dorm with warmth you didn’t know was missing. As you find a suitable bucket and begin filling it with water, you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His cheeks are flushed now, too, but it’s the way his eyes never stray from you that makes your heart flip. There’s something different about him tonight. He’s always been kind, always attentive, but now it feels like every glance carries weight, like there’s a depth to his affection that wasn’t there before, or maybe you just never noticed it as clearly until now.

And it’s true—you’ve had a fondness for oversized bouquets ever since that one evening, deep into Dojin’s election campaign, when your father came home later than promised. He had been swept up in the political race and, in the chaos, forgot to call ahead. Your mother, of course, wasn’t angry. She knew him well enough to recognise that his silence wasn’t intentional. Still, despite his exhaustion, your father returned the night after with a massive bouquet, much like the one Jungkook had just given you, though your father’s was overflowing with red roses.

“Here, let me help.” Jungkook steps up behind you, effortlessly lifting the now full bucket from the sink as though it weighs nothing. “Where should I put it?”

“My room,” you answer softly, already reaching for some wrapping paper to wrap around the bucket’s base. “I need to dress this up. I don’t want to ruin the aesthetic.”

Jungkook follows you to your room, heaving the bucket and flowers onto your desk while you immediately start wrapping around it. He spins lazily in your desk chair, making you giggle despite the nerves that still flutter within you. As you carefully tie a ribbon around the makeshift vase, your voice, hesitant and quiet, resonates through the silence and small space between you.

“So… why hydrangeas and roses?” you ask, casting a glance at him, curious to hear his reasoning.

Jungkook stops swirling, his feet grounding him as his cheeks flush with again with faint colour. “Ah, well… they reminded me of you,” he admits, his voice growing quieter with each word while his hands run up and down his thighs. “I mean, their meanings reminded me of you.”

Your fingers still against the ribbon as you turn to face him more fully, the question evident in your gaze. “Their meanings?” you repeat softly, not sure what to make of his answer.

Jungkook doesn’t look down, still his shyness intensifies. “White hydrangeas symbolise grace… and heartfelt emotions,” he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly. “And white roses… they represent purity, innocence… and new beginnings.”

You think you might faint at his words, your innocent self celebrating deep within you at the thought of a new beginning. Could this—what’s happening between you and Jungkook—be more than just a first date? Could it be the start of something new, something untouched by the darkness that has followed you for so long? You’ve spent so much time buried under the burden of your past, so much time chasing shadows and vengeance, that the idea of starting fresh feels almost foreign and too soon. But with Jungkook… maybe, just maybe, you could find a new way forward.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion as you reach for him. Jungkook takes your hand without hesitation, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours, and in their depths, you find something you never thought you’d feel again—hope.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says quietly, pulling himself to his feet, his fingers still entwined with yours as you leave your dorm and walk off into the early night.

The restaurant Jungkook has chosen is familiar, a cozy little Italian place you’ve visited before with your friend group. But tonight, it feels different from all the times spent here. There’s a quiet intimacy to the way the lights cast an amber glow over the tables, and the soft strains of music seem to weave around the two of you, creating a cocoon that shields you from the rest of the world and everything that haunts you.

Jungkook pulls out your chair for you, a small gesture that makes your heart explode into confetti, making you fall for him deeper and deeper. His kindness isn’t new, but tonight, it feels magnified, every little thing he does carrying more weight than usual. As you both settle in, you can’t help but feel the shift in the air between you—the way it softly hums with something more than just friendship, something deeper and sweeter.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Jungkook begins as he picks up the menu, his eyes scanning the options but his attention clearly divided. “About how… you don’t always feel like you deserve nice things.”

You freeze for a moment, the words catching you off guard. You weren’t expecting him to bring it up again, especially not tonight. You’d mentioned it just this once, offhandedly, in a situation that felt light at the time, but apparently, Jungkook hadn’t forgotten.

“I just… I want you to know that you do,” he continues, his voice settling around you like a warm blanket. “You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

You smile, though it’s small, tentative, as you look down at the menu in your hands. It’s not easy to accept his words, not with the weight of your past still clinging to you like tar, but his sincerity makes it harder to dismiss them outright. He means what he’s saying—he truly believes you deserve more than the shadows you’ve been living in.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice quiet as you meet his loving gaze.

Jungkook nods, smile widening as he reaches across the table to take your hand. His touch is warm, grounding you in a way that makes you feel more present, more here. You’re not sure when you started feeling this way about him—when his presence became something that could chase away the darkness. But sitting here with him now, with his hand in yours, it feels like maybe this was meant to be all along.

The conversation flows easily after that, the two of you slipping into the familiar rhythm you’ve always shared, but there’s something new underneath it all, a current of something stronger, something that feels a little like the beginning of love. It’s in the way he smiles at you when you laugh, the way his fingers linger against yours when he hands you the bread basket, the way his eyes soften into puddles of shining stars when you catch him staring at you across the table.

"It does feel different, doesn’t it?" you ask, fingers playing with the edge of your napkin.

"Yeah," he says, leaning forward slightly. "But good different."

You nod, letting your gaze fall to the candle flickering between you. "It does. We’ve been here so many times. But it—" You pause, smiling softly. "It feels special tonight."

Jungkook grins, cheeks flushed as he glances at the menu. "So, tell me something I don’t know about you."

You bite your lip, thinking. "Well, my childhood was... complicated." You choose your words carefully, keeping the truth buried beneath layers of vague recollections. "My parents, they passed away when I was a teen."

He looks up from the menu, his expression gentle. "I read about that fire. I didn’t want to bring it up... I’m really sorry."

You offer him a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. "It’s okay. My mom was cooking dinner that night... things just went wrong." The words are light, brushed off like the remnants of a distant memory. You’re careful not to let him see the truth that festers beneath.

He nods slowly, his gaze searching yours. "And after... you lived with Taehyung?"

"Yes," you say, exhaling a soft breath. "His family took me in. We’ve been close ever since childhood." You lift your glass, taking a small sip before continuing. "And now... here I am, med school and all."

Jungkook chuckles lightly. "You're amazing, you know that? Everything you've been through... and you're still standing strong."

You meet his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you, something fragile but blooming despite the faul soil. "Thank you. How about you?"

“My childhood? It was… pretty normal, I guess. My parents were always around, super protective. Especially my mom. She used to hover a lot,” he says with a soft laugh, a warm, nostalgic smile spreading across his face. “She’d always pack me lunch, even in high school. And not just a sandwich or something small. I’m talking full-on bento boxes, with little designs in the food. It was kind of embarrassing back then, but now I look back and miss it, you know?”

“Oh, I can tell, you’re still eating like a bottomless pit.” You joke, knowing he likes it when you’re this playful.

He glances at you then, you expect him to laugh with you, but his smile is dimming a little as he continues. “My dad… he was strict, but he just wanted the best for me. Pushed me hard, made sure I always had something to work towards. But… I was a bit of a handful,” he admits with a grin. “I think I drove them crazy sometimes, always running around, never sitting still. My older brother had it together, but me? I just wanted to do everything at once.”

“That’s totally normal, Kook, don’t beat yourself up for this.” You reach for his hand, cradling it to soothe any doubt he has in himself.

His gaze softens as he shrugs, almost shy. “They gave me a lot, though. Support, love… I was really lucky.” He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours after staring at your joint hands. “But I didn’t always appreciate it back then. You know how it is when you’re young… you don’t really see everything they do for you until you’re older.”

“Yeah.” You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to stir the conversation away from this heavy topic. You appreciate his honesty, you really do, but it’s the bitter taste of you holding back the truth, that blocks your thoughts from forming.

Thankfully, Jungkook leans back in his chair, his expression softening as he studies you. "So, what do you like? I mean, aside from making everyone in class jealous with your grades?"

You laugh, a genuine sound that cuts through your mind’s fog. "I like simple things, really. Music, books, late-night walks... And you?"

"I’m pretty much the same. Music, of course... and working out, boxing. But I’m guessing you already know that," he adds with a sheepish grin. "It helps me clear my mind, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," you reply, nodding. "Sometimes, you need something to take the edge off. For me, it’s those cute kitten videos."

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow. "I didn’t know that."

You shrug. "Well, now you do."

He smiles, a tender smile that makes you want to capture it like a polaroid. "I like learning things about you."

You return his smile without a beat, your heart light and singing as you say "And I like sharing them with you." And the conversation doesn’t seem to crease after that.

By the time the meal is over, you’re both lingering in your seats, reluctant to let the night end. You know you’ll have to return to your dorm eventually, but for now, you’re content to stay in this moment a little longer, to savour the warmth that fills the space between you.

As Jungkook walks you back to your dorm, the night cool against your flushed skin, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this way—since you’ve allowed yourself to feel this way. And as you reach your door, turning to face him, you realise that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something good.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence swirls around you, but it’s not uncomfortable, filled with all the things you want to say but don’t quite know how to express. He steps closer, his hand finding yours once again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But instead, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, the gesture so sweet, so tender, that it makes your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Goodnight, ___,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Goodnight,” you reply softly, your voice barely more than a breath.

As you watch him take a step back, your heart feels light, full in a way it hasn’t been in years. There’s still so much you don’t know—so much uncertainty about what the future holds—but for the first time in a long time, you feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the beginning, but it feels like a good one.

As Jungkook walks away backwards, still smiling at you, still reluctant to let the night end, something shifts within you, and it’s like the light that forced your brightness within you to shine in its full force, dims with every step he takes, taking it and all the warmth with him as if it always was his to begin with. The smile on your face turns brittle, plastic, and a hollow sensation settles in your chest. Behind the mask of sweetness and light that you’ve worn for the evening, the impatience of the demon within you grows, gnawing forcefully at the edges of your control. The demon magnifies, stretching and clawing, until all remnants of joy and happiness dissolve into the endless void aching for revenge.

You step inside your dorm, and as the door clicks shut, the smile falls from your lips like a discarded veil at a wedding. You waste no time, and strip off the clothes that made you feel beautiful just moments ago and replace them with the black gear you’ve come to associate with your truth and fate.

Something inside you flips, like a switch toggled into place, and just like that, you’re gone—no longer the person who had been with Jungkook at dinner, no longer the person who basked in his warmth. You’re someone else now. Someone darker. Someone deadly. There’s no joy left. No happiness. Only a singular, burning purpose that consumes everything else. The void inside you aches for release, for the satisfaction of revenge, and it’s all you can feel now.

You begin to prepare methodically, stretching your muscles and joints, warming your body for what the night demands from you. You remember the conversation you overheard between Dojin and his stupid bodyguards—Chulsoo will be alone tonight. The thought lingers. You wanted to start with Sangwook, to make him the first, but maybe fate is offering you a different path. Maybe this is a sign that Chulsoo, taller and stronger though he may be, is meant to go first. It doesn’t matter in the end; they will all fall. Every last one of them.

You slip out of your dorm and move through the neighbourhood, undetected, a shadow among shadows. It’s a path you know well, the routine of it bringing you a twisted kind of joy. The city’s pulse begins to pick up as you near the bustling nightlife, where buildings stretch higher into the sky and people crowd the streets, oblivious to the darkness lurking in their midst. You stick to the alleyways, your steps light, your movements fluid, until you reach the first landmark—an alley beside a Chinese restaurant.

You pull yourself up onto the trash bins outside, the narrowness of the space making it easier to scale the walls like you’ve done countless times before. From there, it’s a series of practiced motions—small leaps from one rooftop to the next, each building taller than the last as you make your way toward your destination.

At last, you arrive at the balcony of Chulsoo’s office, your landing soft and graceful, almost feline in its silence. The city buzzes far below, but up here on this skyscraper, it’s eerily quiet. The office is dark except for the dim night lighting of the building, casting long shadows across the room as if painted with charcoal. You glance around to make sure no one is near, your senses tuned to the slightest disturbance. The night is lonely, just as you’d hoped.

You slip behind one of the balcony posts, peering inside through the glass. The office’s low lighting is enough to spot what you came for. There, seated at Dojin’s desk, is Chulsoo. He’s lounging in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk, watching a football game on his phone. The back of him faces you, his attention completely absorbed in the small screen.

You test the sliding door’s lock silently, and to your satisfaction, it moves without resistance. Unlocked. Another careless mistake on his part, another beautiful wrapped gift to you. The door opens just enough for you to slip inside, the noise of the city creeping in faintly, but he doesn’t hear it. He’s wearing earphones—his second mistake. It feels like luck is on your side tonight, but you know better than to trust in fortune. You’ve come too far for that.

The demon inside you snarls in anticipation, laughing menacingly as you creep up behind Chulsoo. You catch your reflection in the darkened screen of Dojin’s computer—the mask you wear, its smile wide and empty, mirroring the cold emptiness and lunacy within you. Childhood remains oblivious, lost in the game playing on his phone, unaware of the storm about to descend upon him.

In one swift motion, you lock your arms around his throat, pulling him into a headlock. His phone slips from his hand, clattering to the floor with a broken screen. His body reacts instinctively, muscles straining against yours as he thrashes. But it’s his feet—still propped on the desk—that give him the leverage he needs. With a powerful push, he throws himself backward, sending both of you tumbling to the ground. You hit the floor hard, the weight of his body crashing into yours, pinning your legs awkwardly beneath the chair.

But you only grit your teeth against it, refusing to let it slow you down. Chulsoo wrestles to free himself from your grip, and you dig your elbow into his front, trying to regain the upper hand. He’s taller than you, stronger, and he uses his size to his advantage, rolling over in your hold to straddle you, his hands finding your throat in an instant. You twist beneath him, trying to slip free, your body burning with the effort as your vision starts to blur.

You manage to kick the chair out from between you, throwing his balance off just enough to create an opening. In a flash, you’re on your feet again, lunging for him. The fight spills out of the office, your bodies colliding with walls and furniture as you grapple for control. Everything happening all at once—punches and kicks, blocks and dodges, the sound of grunts and gasps echoing through the empty office space. Chulsoo grabs a heavy glass ashtray from the desk, swinging it wildly at your head. You duck just in time, the ashtray shattering against the wall behind you.

He’s relentless, coming at you with the kind of brute force that could only come from someone used to winning fights by sheer size and strength alone. But you’re quicker, more agile. Every time he lands a blow, you counter it with something sharper, something faster. The office transforms into a battlefield, chaos reigning as desks are overturned, chairs sent crashing to the floor, papers swirling in the air like torn shreds of white flags that will never be surrendered. The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth where one of his punches grazed your lip, but you taste it with satisfaction, the pain fuelling your determination even further.

Chulsoo grabs you by the collar, throwing you towards the door that leads to the staircase. You crash into it with a heavy thud, the impact sending the door flying open, while feeling your joints blocking through your back and ribs. A low “Uff” escapes your lips as you hit the railing behind you, the cold metal biting into your spine. But there’s no time to catch your breath—Chulsoo charges at you, full force, his eyes wild with the intent to finish you off.

At the last second, you spin out of his path, and he crashes into the railing with a sickening thud. He staggers, dazed, and you seize the opportunity, wrapping your arm around his throat from behind yet again, pulling him into another chokehold. You tighten your grip, feeling the demon within you thrashing against the cage of your control, hungry for the kill. You could end him right here, with your bare hands. It would be easy. It would be satisfying. But something goes wrong.

Chulsoo’s foot slips against the slick floor, his balance faltering. Before you can tighten your hold, he stumbles backward, his body teetering dangerously over the edge of the railing. His eyes widen in panic as he tries to grab hold of something, anything, to stop his fall. But there’s nothing to hold onto.

With a final scream, he tips over the railing, his body plummeting into the abyss below. The sound of his fall echoes through the stairwell, punctuated by the sickening thud of his body hitting the railings on the way down. You watch, frozen, as his limp form finally crashes to the ground below, a twisted heap of flesh, bone and blood.

This isn’t how you wanted it to end.

The rage that fills you is immediate and scorching. The demon inside you roars, seething with frustration, its hunger again left unsatisfied. This was supposed to be precise, fucking controlled. You were supposed to kill him with your own hands, not let him fall like some clumsy idiot. This… this is unsatisfying to all end. Again.

You grip the cold metal of the railing with white-knuckled fury, your mind spinning with barely contained rage that courses through your veins. Every inch of you aches for release, for some way to expel the unforgiving heat that burns beneath your skin. But there’s no outlet. There’s only the hollow victory of Chulsoo’s broken body far below.

The door behind you creaks open, and you feel him before you even turn around.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to school your expression. When you finally turn, your face masks, twisted into a smile that never reaches your eyes—a smile that could only belong to someone who no longer cares.

Pulse stands there, his eyes wide with shock as he surveys the scene. He knows immediately that he’s too late. His shoulders slump, the weight of his failure settling over him like a shroud. You can see the realisation dawning in his eyes—he’s failed to stop you this time.

Without a care, you walk towards him, your steps slow and. Graceful where no grace is found. He watches you approach, his gaze searching for something—an explanation, perhaps, or a hint of remorse. But there’s nothing for him to find. You’re empty. The void inside you yawns wider.

As you pass him, you glance up at him with that same twisted smile, teeth painted in your own blood and murmur, “You’re too late, Dulls. Try harder next time, yeah?” You give his chest a light pat, a condescending gesture that only deepens the devastation in his eyes.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t react. He just watches you disappear into the night, unsatisfied and unseen as you came, leaving nothing behind but the wreckage of your vengeance.

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • masterlist • 05

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! And to spice things up even more, we'll do a little game through the story:

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @jksusawife, @jayhoneybeecomb, @kookienooki, @hagridshaircare

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gilverrwrites · 6 months

Note

Hiiii could you do a forbidden hero x villain romance of captain boomerang and reader? Thank you in advance 🙃

No Use Mending Bridges

Captain Boomerang/Reader, 2.7K words

He'd been everything to you then. Now he was a crumpled mess, laying broken and battered on your couch. Rated: M

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

CW: Mentions of blood and violence , swearing, angst, arguing, unhealthy relationship dynamics, betrayal, lying.

Please know: I think you are absolutely wonderful!

The view through your peephole is distorted; it makes his head look bulbous and alien-like, but despite the skewed image and years of no-contact, he’s still immediately recognisable. Fully prepared to tell him to take a hike unless he wants a free ride to the police station, you swing the door open only to be halted by the unobscured sight of him. His coat and gloves were torn and bloodied, one hand clutched to his ribs, the other supporting his weight on your door frame.

“Hey, stranger.” He splutters between bloody coughs. His face twitches in pain at each syllable. There’s a cluster of nasty reddish-purple bruises forming around the left side of his face, and he appears to have lost another tooth.

“What the fuck George?!” Confirming the coast is clear with a quick scan of the hallway, you herd his limping form into the apartment, where he unceremoniously spreads across the couch. “What the hell did you do? Why even come here?”

“I didn’t do nothin’.” His speech is slurred, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s drunk, injured, or both. “I had nowhere else to go.”

“Just stay still.” You instruct as you begin rummaging, looking for your first-aid kit; it must be somewhere here. “And don’t touch anything!”

By the time you locate what you’re looking for and return to his side, George is unconscious. His pupils constrict as expected when you shine a light on them. Moderately happy that he’s not concussed you allow him to sleep as you clean him up, disturbing him only to remove his coats and boots.

By the time you’re done patching him up, it's late into the night. You don’t really want to leave him alone… because he might steal something, not because you’re worried about him. But because you’re exhausted. Resolving to leave him alone for a few hours, you pack up your kit and head to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water and some painkillers.

When you return, he’s awake, barely. Bleary reddened eyes watch you in silence as you place the glass and pills on your coffee table.

“Can you talk?” You ask.

“Oh yeeeeeaaahhhhh.” His speech seems worse now than when he’d arrived. “Ripperrrr.”

He must have really got his shit rocked. Or gotten really pissed before getting his shit rocked. You wait for him to say something more, to thank you for taking him in and fixing him up. He sits there watching you back, threading his tongue between the new gap in his teeth. As more and more time passes it becomes increasingly apparent that he has nothing to say to you. Ungrateful bastard.

Although it shouldn’t surprise you, really. Years ago, when you’d been an item, you’d patched him up plenty of times, bailed him out of prison, even gotten into fights for him, and he’d never thanked you then, either. It was always someone else’s fault, someone else’s burden. He was a martyr, and you’d believed him, every time. Right up until you’d caught him red handed, fist full of stolen cash in the middle of Central City National Bank’s vault. Although every fibre of your being wanted to hear him out, to forgive him, and take him home, you knew then and there that there was no coming back from this moment.

He knew who you were and the things you stood for, and he’s barefaced lied to you, going behind your back, living a double life as a criminal.

Shaking with anger, humiliation, and heartache, you did your best to shut him out as you hauled his ass down to the CCPD, swearing never to look back. And you didn’t; you never looked up his record, never googled his name, never asked your mutual friends about him. However, that didn’t stop you from hoping for a card in the mail every holiday, or scrolling through your camera roll with a tub of cookie dough whenever you thought about him too much or turning down every offer at a date with literally one else.

He'd been everything to you then. Now he was a crumpled mess, laying broken and battered on your couch.

“Who did this to you?” You ask, maybe because you want to hear his excuse, or maybe because you really want to know who is responsible.

“Why? You gonna arrest 'em?” Between the swollen face and the way he keeps lolling his tongue around, it's difficult to make out an emotion until he follows up with what is clearly intended as bitter sarcasm: “Myyyy hero!”

You have mixed emotions. You almost want to be proud of him for not immediately giving you a name and for feeding you a story about some guy who totally started it, but really, you knew it wasn’t that. He’d probably deserved it, probably been caught with his hands in the proverbial cookie jar by a hero bigger and stronger than you, with less emotional attachment. Or maybe he’s just intentionally being a dick, still mad at you for putting him behind bars.

“I don’t arrest people, George.” You take a deep breath, determined to sound professional. “But if needs be, I will turn them in to the police.”

“Don’t ya know; Snitches get stitches.” The more he refuses to tell you, the hotter your blood runs.

How dare he turn up here, asking for your help, then refuse to let you do your job. You’d had every right to turn him away, but you hadn’t. The least he could do was tell you why he’d darkened your doorway.

“You were a mess. You are a mess, and you know it, or else you wouldn’t have come here.” Your composure is slipping, each word growing louder and more agitated than the last. You care far more than you should, and you know it, that is the problem. “Whoever did this to you must be held accountable for their actions.”

“’Must be held accountable for their actions’, blah, blah, blah. Do they teach ya all that fancy talk at crime fighting 101 or whatever it is you do?” All the colour drains from his face as he watches your reaction, the way your face twists with anger. Instant regret. “Alright, alright, am sorry. That was uncalled for. I just… can we talk about it in the mornin’?”

“Will you still be here in the morning?”

Caught in a half lie, George falls silent, turning his head to avoid your gaze. All that red-hot rage leaves your body, replaced with a similar emptiness that settles in your chest. You’d barely gotten him out of your system when he’d turned up, and now he was practically gone already. It was for the best, really. No use mending bridges and making up with him; it would do neither of your reputations any good.

“Right. I’m going to bed. Goodnight George.” You’re gone before he can respond.

The creak of footsteps against hardwood flooring stirs you from half-sleep. For a thief, he’s awful at keeping quiet. The smart thing to do would be to check on him. He was probably halfway out of a window with his pockets full of valuables, but whatever he’d taken would be a small price to pay to not have to look at him one more time.

Light from the hallway peeped into the room, not bright enough to blind you, but enough to put you on alert to the door opening. Confused and on edge, you dart up, finding George stood at the end of the bed. He’d removed his shirt and jeans, exposing some minor cuts and bruises that you’d missed, and leaving him in nothing but his briefs. A sorry sight for sore eyes.

“Forgot how uncomfortable the couch is.” He informs you nonchalantly.

“You picked it, ‘didn’t wanna pay more than $50 on a doghouse’.” You did you best to imitate his accent, earning you a laugh. The sound was strange, you hadn’t realised you’d forgotten it until you heard it again.

“Can I?” he gestures to you, to the bed.

“How bashed up is your head? Hell no.” You pull the sheets tighter around yourself.

“Oh, come on, ya said it yourself am a mess, an’ that lumpy old thing ain’t exactly helping.” The way he waves his arms around must hurt, must be agitating his wounds, and pulling his bandages loose, but the movements are so familiar, so quintessentially him, that you can’t help but smile. Clearly knowing he’s found a weak spot, he comes closer, dropping to his knees, elbows on the bed, head cradled in his hands as he bats exaggeratedly large eyes at you. “Technically, it’s our bed anyway, so… Please?”

“Fine.” He’s pulling the sheets back before you’ve even finished. Wriggling his ass against the mattress, batting the pillows into place, too late to take it back now.

“Is that my pillow?” He asks, pointing to your side of the bed.

Originally, you’d taken it because the smell reminded you of him, but it had been such a long time. It no longer smelled of him, and you could claim that you don’t remember. “Not anymore.”

“’Fine.’” He mimics you for the second time that night, probably payback for your atrocious attempt at Australian earlier.

Awkward silence befalls the room. It’s not as bad as it had been downstairs, not as hostile, but the tension is still thick. When you’d patched him up earlier, the air had been pungent with blood and steriliser. Now though, he filled the bed with a familiar spicy musk that made you more comfortable than you’d anticipated. You wondered if you’ll wash the sheets right after he’s gone, or if you’ll be swapping the pillows around once more.

You risk a peek at him, curious if he still the same up-close, all scruff and rough and homey. His green eyes are already staring back at you. Caught out, you refuse to shy away, allowing him to watch you watch him. He’s leaner now, and you note a few tattoos you don’t recognise across his upper arm and chest.

As the minutes pass, the tension simmers. It’s almost peaceful, being so close again. It all feels so intimate, so easy, at least until he says the dumbest thing you’ve heard all day.

“What happened to us, aye?”

“What happened? You lied to me, for basically all of our relationship. You humiliated me.” Once it started coming out, it didn’t stop. Unconsciously, you sit up straight, keeping your distance as you continue to rant. “You can’t just talk your way back in here and pretend like it didn’t happen. I trusted you, and you made a fool out of me.”

“Hold on now, it’s not like that.” He remains calm, still laying back in the bed, amused by your sudden outburst. His laid-back attitude had been so charming when you’d fallen for him. Now it pissed you off.

“Then what is it like, George?” His brows don’t furrow until you reach the end of the sentence.

“Stop it.” He finally sits up, hunched to ensure eye contact. “Stop calling me that!”

Even during the worst spells of your relationship, he’s never eyed you so intensely, not in this context, at least. Back then, it might have scared you, but now you were relieved to see some real emotion from him, even if he’s picking at a scab you don’t want touched. You know exactly what he’s getting at, but you don’t want to address it, so you repeat your earlier question. “What is it like?”

“You’ve never called me George before today.” He rebuffs your question again, zeroing in on his own issue. He’d never liked his birthname, so you’d never used it—not until you’d needed a way to distance yourself from him.

“George never broke my heart.” Your voice is a whisper but he’s close enough to hear it. He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing as he mulls over your words. Every second is like torture until you put a stop to it. You grab his pillow from the bed as you stand. “This was a mistake. Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Please don’t.” Calloused fingers wrap around your arm, not hard enough to bruise but firm enough to keep their grip as you’re tugged back onto the bed. “I’m sorry for what I did, for all of it—the fights, the stealin’. And I’m sorry I didn’t say sorry sooner.”

Those same strong fingers drag along your arms, attempting to offer comfort. Unable to muster the resolve to fight it, you let him pull you deeper onto the bed, encasing you in an embrace that is both unwelcome and wanted.

“Do you think there’s a way we can fix us?” He asks, voice cracked. He draws closer, nestling into the nook of your neck as he awaits your response.

You’ve laid awake in this very spot missing him for such a long time. Praying that one day, this exact moment might happen, but there are things you have to be certain of first. “Are you just saying all this to get laid?”

There is hesitation that briefly fills you with dread before he replies carefully. “No.”

“Will you give it all up?” You cup his cheeks, pulling him up until you’re face to face, where you can watch his reaction. You’re both so close, so ready to fold, but you can’t give up your morals, so maybe you can convince him to change. “The whole rogue thing? Will you quit?”

“Darlin’… Loving you has nothing to do with -”

You interrupt him with a kiss, a desperate attempt to change his mind before he commits to his statement. He tastes like copper and malt. Blood and beer. It reminds you of every kiss you’d shared before now. You shove your tongue inside his mouth, craving more, and he shudders in response.

When you pull away, he watches you with a dazed expression, scabbed lips pulled into a dreamy smile.

“That was ace.” Your foreheads press together, and he closes his eyes, thinking, preserving, you’re not sure, but his smile gradually falters. “But would ya do that in front of the bonze?”

“I would.” It’s an instant response, but once it leaves your mouth you know there’s a stipulation. “If you reformed.”

“We’re just goin’ around in bloody circles.” He releases you, hands thrown in the air as he falling back against the bed with a frustrated grunt. A giggle escapes your lips at the sight, but once he’s settled, you start to miss the warmth of his body with a force you hadn’t felt since the night of your breakup.

Unwilling to let the moment go just yet, you encroach his side of the bed, resting your head on his chest. He signals his approval by stroking his hand against your back.

“We’re supposed to be enemies, you know?” You’re talking to him but don’t have the strength to move in a way that allows you to look at his face. “I should hate you, why can’t I hate you?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious why.” He gives your shoulder a playful nudge. “Am just lovable.”

He laughs at his joke, wholeheartedly. You laugh, humouring his attempt to lighten the mood.

When the laughter dries up, you lay together in silence yet again, so many pauses, both of you so uncertain how to move forward. The beat of his heart thumping beneath your ears is the only sound you can make out.

“I just gotta pull one last job.” He cuts through the quiet.

“What is it?” You make the effort to angle your head upwards, but he halts you by placing his hand on the top of your head.

“Can’t tell ya.” He taps his fingers against your head the way he would a table, one fingertip at a time. It’s a nervous tick he’d picked up a long time ago. “Nothin’ personal, just don’t want ya tryna’ stop me.”

Could you call yourself a hero if you let him do whatever he was planning? If you didn’t take preventative measures, or hold him responsible for yet another crime?

“Digger, please don’t make me regret this.”

When you wake the next morning, the space beside you is empty and cold. The wrinkled outline of his body in the sheets serve as the only proof that anyone had been there the night before. No noises rung through the flat, no footsteps, no echo from the TV, no running water. Fighting through morning fuzziness you stumble out of your bedroom, searching for your missing bedfellow, only to find an open window and an empty wallet.

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