#im sorry I’ll never shut up about that city

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #09 seeing red.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.7k

masterlist ▸ 008 not the bath mat.  ▸ 010 coming soon

“You okay?”

Seokmin’s voice rang through y/n’s ears as she drove her car away from of Vernon’s white apartment building. 

“Yeah, I think so. I’m just nervous for some reason like I can’t put into words why, but my gut is telling me something is weird.” 

“Gut instincts are rarely ever wrong, but I’ll be by your side until you tell me you don’t need me to be. Okay?” 

Pulling up into the parking lot of the glass framed building just on the edge of the city overlooking the water, y/n felt her nervous sweating start to begin, almost begging for air conditioning to surround her like a chilled hug. 

“Want to hold my hand?” 

“Yes please, they’re clammy I’m sorry.” 

Gripping onto Vernon’s firm hand the three boys almost looking like her bodyguards bypassed the frenzy of people outside waiting to get their own peak at Minghaos installation themselves and walked through the door. 

The room was filled with small tables, made by hand as a final touch to Minghaos work, adorned with dainty black table clothes and bottles of champagne placed in ice buckets. 

The room was softly lit with yellow and white lighting making everyone have a glow that bounced off of them almost as if they weren’t real. 

“Would you guys like a drink? We have champagne and two signature cocktails, one is a gin based drink called ‘delicate’ and the other is a whiskey ginger based drink called ‘storm cloud.” 

The beautiful waitress signaled at y/n’s small group and pointed out the drinks on the table. 

“I think two storm clouds and one delicate one for sure. Y/n? What would you like?” 

You spun to look into Junhui’s big eyes, skating your head saying anything is alright with you so he made the conclusion to just order you the same as Seokmin to be safe. 

“Thank you.” 

Y/N placed a tip in the small bartenders jar and bid her a smile knowing she’ll be back for more later in the night 

“Should we look around now and try to find Minghao? Or wait a bit?” 

“Seok lets just wait here, it doesn’t seem like anyone is looking around yet, I'm trying to spy for Minnie and Mingyu.” 

“And Mimi.” 

“Yeah. Her too.” 

“Guys, Vernon and I are going to go find Vernon’s friend Seungkwan. We'll be back in a second.” 

“No problem.” 

Y/n and Seokmin waved the cute couple off into the crowd. 

“So y/n.” 

“Seoky.” 

“How are we feeling now? What was going on in the car?” 

“I don’t know. I told you I’m alright.” 

“Yeah but you don’t have to lie to me about that.”

“I promise you I would never lie to you, we basically took an unintentional blood oath as kids it stays” 

“Okay. I love you, you know that right? But I rarely see you nervous like this so I can’t help but feel concerned.”

“Shut up. Yes I do and I love you too. I promise im alright.”

Averting her gaze back to the front door she watched as Minnie and Mingyu walked hand and hand, strutting past a very devious looking Mimi standing to the right, chit chatting with someone who was unrecognizable to y/n. 

“They look good together.” 

“Yeah, they do.” 

“Do you think this fake dating is going to lead to them.. you know.” 

“Well. If I can be honest with you y/n which I'm sure I can, I think it already has.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you alright with that?” 

“I am actually. Any other time it would’ve killed me I think, but now.. I don’t know? I’m content. They make sense.” 

“You shine too bright to have someone who shades you.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know actually, I think im drunk already.” 

Y/n placed a small kiss on Seokmin’s temple laughing at his flushed cheeks before a familiar yet irritating voice cut through their ears. 

“Y/n, Seokmin. Hi! You both look absolutely gorgeous. Mind if I sit?” 

“Hi, Mimi. Sure.” 

“How are you guys? This is so beautiful and we haven’t even seen his art yet, how crazy. He’s so talented.” 

“Yeah it’s nice. You look great, I love your bag.” 

“Thank you. You look nice. I see you didn’t go with the outfit you picked out the other day.” 

“Hao told us to come in black so it just didn’t feel right.”

“Mimi, can I ask you how you know Minghao again?” 

“Oh wow, well it’s a long story. We met a few years ago, I haven’t seen him in a while actually.” 

“Ah, I see. Did you go to school together or?” 

“Wow Seokmin, someone’s nosey.” 

“Oh, sorry no, not nosy just curious is all. I didn’t know you knew him.” 

“It’s okay. Our parents actually work together.” 

“Nice.” 

“Do you know if he arrived yet? I’m sure he’d love to see you in this gorgeous outfit. Leaving everything to the imagination, he likes conservative girls.” 

“No we haven’t seen him, we're just waiting for Junhui actually.” 

“Aw, cutie. His boyfriend seems so nice, I stalked them online today. Dumb and dumber vibes, you know? I’m more curious though did you see Minnie and Mingyu? How trashy getting with your friends hook up? Maybe she truly has it out for you. You’re too pretty to never be the one to end up with the guy. But actually you should just date Seokmin, everyone knows how much you guys love each other, it could work out well.”

“Oh I-

“Well, I have to get going and find my way to the girls room. I’ll see you later. Toodles.” 

“Toodles” 

Seokmin’s voice gained a depth that you haven't heard since someone pushed him in the fountain at your high school during senior prank week. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“Fucking weird is what that was.” 

Seokmin’s tone turned quickly into a quiet mocking of Mimi’s.

“Dumb and Dumber vibes.”

The two of them laughed as they shrugged off the interesting encounter with a former foe.

A bartender came over to the pair and handed them both a flute of champagne, as the rest of the patrons erupted into a roar when Minghao made his way into the building, Wonwoo walking beside him, smiling at his friend who was receiving praise from his acquaintances, hugging and high fiving him for his success, some chanting for him to make a speech.

Minghao walked straight past Mimi who was stealthily placed behind a tall gentleman the star of the night was not paying any attention to her whatsoever, almost like she was invisible. He strode over to the small table where y/n and Seokmin were awkwardly standing clutching the glass flutes, wrapping his arms around the both of them at the same time. 

“You guys look.. amazing, thank you for coming.” 

Minghao took a deep breath and looked up and down at the girl he had his arm around. 

“Seriously. Thank you.” 

“Our pleasure.” 

“I’ll be back after I say some thank yous, maybe we can all walk through together okay?” 

“Cool.” 

The intimate crowd surrounded Minghao and Wonwoo handed him the matching glass of sparkling wine and he held it up as a small cheers. 

Y/n peaked through the crowd and spotted Minnie and Mingyu to her right, still looking as loving as ever, Vernon and Jun to her left with an unrecognizable boy, who threw a small wave in her direction that she could only pass off as Seungkwan the only one she couldn’t place was Mimi.

“Hey guys. I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight to the opening of my show. It’s been about a two year process to finally get through to this night. Many of you have been around much longer than that, so thank you for supporting me even when I was up late at night calling you upset about how it wasn’t going to work out. Vernon, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Mingyu, you guys truly were the only reason I didn’t jump ship many times from achieving this goal. It’s nice to see old faces like yours mixed into a group of new friends. So thank you, everyone, really. We’re going to take a peek through the gallery now, feel free to bring your drinks and grab some more along the way. And yeah, just enjoy yourselves. Thank you.” 

The clapping dwindled down as the group followed Minghao through the journey he went through over the past two years starting from just a week ago up until the beginning. 

Y/N stopped Seokmin to look at a very small white canvas decorated with various pastel water color paints mixed with an oil that looked almost the color of fresh blood. 

“Do you know when I did that?” 

“This?” 

Minghaos voice spoke up behind them quietly, not wanting the room to echo as the group was admiring the work during their part one journey. Seokmin smiled down at his female friend and decided to take the opportunity to wander off on his own like any good wingman would do. 

“Yeah.” 

“Uh, no. Is this a trick question?” 

“No it’s not, but it was that night I found you on your floor, looking at those pictures of you and your friends.” 

“I- You got inspired by that? How?” 

“Not sure I have time to explain it right now, but look at the title.” 

‘About you’ was written on the plaque to the right side of the artwork. 

“Wow. Thank you.” 

“No thank you, I couldn’t have finished any of this without you actually.” 

The art curator swooped Minghao away from your side moving the group into the second room, where the energy was colder, the lighting was turned down slightly, causing the fading colors the feel cold and dark and full of sadness especially coming from the front of the house that was bright and full of life. 

y/n was on her own now, sitting near the back of the group losing her sight of all her comfort blankets that were her friends. 

She spotted the red lip of Mimi directly across the room, also slipping to the back, trying to blend into the crowd as she looked around. 

After spending a good ten minutes looking around the group was led through a vinyl curtain into a room full of dark red lights, the canvases on the wall now sunk to the floor of the room and scattered themselves alongside ripped and tattered papers on the concrete floors.

Something in y/n’s stomach had told her she should leave now, the growing anxiety of the light and coldness of the room, with near to no talking as the faint look of paint splatter sunk into her eyes on the walls almost like old blood. 

She tried to turn around and make her exit through the same vinyl door when a hand came up to her wrist. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“Oh, Mimi hi, shit you scared me. I actually don’t feel well. I was going to dip out for a second.” 

“Aw, come on y/n you can’t leave Minghao now. Not before the big finale.” 

“Right..” 

“Be right back, I’ll find Seokmin for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

All of the sudden as Mimi walked away a projector screen hit the wall, various old videos shot on a cam recorder. 

Y/n had recognized the faint pink colored walls, her own childhood room.

“Let’s go fucking crazy.”

The words came from lips that were set behind the camera only y/n knowing it was the sound of Mimi’s voice as she was being filmed sitting on the bed of her old room, a bottle of cheap vodka in her hands. 

“Okay, y/n I want you to see how pretty you are. We can send this to Joshua as a birthday gift. Should I turn the lights off more?” 

She watched herself as she nodded awkwardly giggling on top of the zebra sheets, her hands pushing the red bottle of liquor to her lips, dribbling the liquid down her chin, the sight of tears welling up in her round eyes.

“Y/nnie don’t be sad, nobody will ever find out we accidentally hurt anyone, okay? My dad said she’ll be okay, just a broken leg. Just let loose.” 

The lights flickered off the screen straight into her soul pushing down the memories of Mimi stealing her dads car while intoxicated to go and buy more alcohol before this very moment played out. 

Suddenly she saw red. All of this had been a set up to embarrass her. Another nail in her coffin. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Mimi turn the people in the room to sit and stare at her face.  Watching the scene play on as Mimi told a very naive twenty year old girl to strip herself of her own clothes to impress the boy she liked and forget about the worst day of her life. 

The people in the room sized her up and down, some turning back to the screen, others reading a small handout that was stuffed into a map of the museum while giggling at the journal entries she wrote about her once crush and the man she had fallen for now before she even made the connection of who he was to her all of those years ago.

Y/n’s legs felt like jello, yet something in her built up the strength to bolt through the vinyl curtain, her heels echoing through the white walls like bullets hitting a glass window. 

She heard a voice cutting through the sound of her heels behind her calling out, but she decided she couldn’t stop to turn around and face anyone. It was a secret that couldn’t be shared, something that Mimi used as a final dagger to cut everyone out of her life the same way she cut the girl out of her own. 

As she reached the fresh air of the front doors, the same cute bartender was sitting out on the curb smoking a cigarette looking concerned for y/n’s well being. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No.” 

“Want a cigarette?” 

“A ride maybe? If it’s not too much to ask. I dropped my phone somewhere, I have cash I can pay you. I just need to get out of here now.” 

“I don’t need your money, it’s okay. Let me help you get a cab okay?” 

“Thank you, really. What’s your name?” 

“Rena. Yours?” 

“Y/n” 

Rena walked quickly with y/n to the outside cab pickup on the corner of the art museum, quickly hailing you a cab and shutting you tightly inside, leaving you with the last four cigarettes stuffed inside her metal case. As you drove off with a wink from her, meaning she had a feeling she’d see you again. 

“55 Miles Avenue, please” 

The driver sped through the night lights avoiding cars like it was a game. Pulling up outside the familiar front of Joshua’s building. 

Basically throwing money at him and whispering a quick thank you, y/n ran her way up to his elevator, finally reaching his floor, and knocking heavily on the door. 

In the few seconds he took to come unlock his apartment to her, she realized how desperate and deschevled she must look. 

“Y/n? It’s still early, are you okay?” 

“No.” 

“Come in, come in.” 

Her tears suddenly grew stronger, sinking down to his wooden floor, feeling his hands grab her shoulders and sink down with her. 

“What happened?” 

Words couldn’t form in her mouth correctly, she managed to spill a couple of sentences that made a way to fill him in. 

“Fuck. Y/n come on, let’s get you a shower and some fresh clothes.” 

Joshua’s arms picked the girl off the floor and led her into his black marble bathroom, which suddenly felt like an oasis to her. 

The water ran hot, scorching her body of the sins and embarrassment she had just gone through, spending more time scrubbing away at her skin and hair, feeling like it would help if she rubbed her skin nearly raw. 

Stepping out of the shower she grabbed the gray hoodie and soft sweatpants Joshua had laid out for her, taking her time to step into her clothes and walk out into her reality. 

“I ordered you some food. Come on.” 

As she finished eating in her daze, the boy to her left carefully rolled the thin paper over the green flower and lit the end, handing her a relief from her stress. 

“Thank you.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Okay. But im sorry I made you befriend her again, I should’ve known better y/n. I really thought she had changed.”

“Stop. Please, I really don’t want to talk about her right now.”

“Okay, just one last thing. Why do you think she did it?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“But do you think Minghao had something to do with it I mean she basically ruined his whole night just for her own revenge. Seems weird that he-“

“Josh.”

“Okay. okay.”

Joshua and y/n sat in the haze of their shared joint, not talking until she finally had enough of a high to fall asleep next to him on the couch and chose to deal with her problems the next day. 

bonus:

note/s: part one of y/n’s wild ride fr. i feel like yall all know we can trust seok/bernon/wonu/junhui for sure 😌✊🏻 but for everyone else the jury (me) is still out lmao. IK MY ASS USED THE WRONG YOUR ok thank u lets just chalk it up to seokmin being drunk and silly lmao <3 i kept telling myself this is too rushed but i also didn’t want to overwhelm and put more of the drama here so lol. def prob typos etc etc bc i was editing at night which i def shouldn’t do anymore lmao. ok ttyl ily.

tag list:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,,  jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo @k-drama-adict

[ittovera]

「 honeymoon un deux trois 」 -> luxiem

“ chasse n whisk n natural-turn, 貴女に魔法おかける ( i will cast magic on you ) ” -> honeymoon un deux trois。DATEKEN

characters: vox akuma, mysta rias, luca kaneshiro, ike eveland, shu yamino

summary: the luxiem boys taking you dancing under the starlight of a busy city

content: fluff, drabble

a/n: first fic jitters sbsjsns \(//∇//)\ hi im vera! sorry some parts are shorter and some are longer, i watch luca/mysta more so i know more about them ( ´▽｀)

vox akuma:

the light of the stars glittered in the wake of amber streetlights, dousing the city in a warm glow. vox, walking beside you, grinned to himself for a moment as the two of you passed the empty plaza.

“come, darling.” he said, ushering you towards the stage, holding your hand gently.

“what is this, vox?” you asked, looking at him quizzically, only to be answered with a smirk.

“a dance, milady.” he cheekily grinned, bowing and holding out his hand.

a smile enveloped your face, placing your hand in his and letting him drag you into his arms. a twirl, a spin, and a 4-step, dancing in the warm hue that was the city at night, a sweet tune he hummed, that only you could hear as you both danced into the night.

mysta rias:

“come on dummy, the plaza is this way.” you chided, mysta whirling around to sheepishly walk back over to you.

“i remember it being the other way!” he retorted, a small smile on his face as he wrapped his arm around yours.

“why did you want to go to the plaza anyway?” you asked, looking up at the detective, and he just grinned wider, tugging on your arm as he dragged you along.

“you’ll see soon enough, love.”

the sweet nickname made your heart flutter rapidly in your chest. this dumbass knew just how to make you feel like putty in his hands.

“are you blushing?” he laughed, grin wide as he ruffled your hair.

“shut it! we’re already here.” you mumbled, looking away and hiding your face in your hands.

“hey, look at me.”

peeking at him through the cracks in your palms, his hand was outstretched, waiting for you to grab it.

“well? we’re dancing.” he grinned.

“you have two left feet, mysta rias.”

“i’ll give you permission to step on my toes if i mess up.” he smugly grinned.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, taking his hand.

“maaaybe.” he whispered, leaning into your ear and twirling you around.

as you danced the night away, under the brilliant lights of the city, you were once again reminded how much mysta loved you.

luca kaneshiro:

you observed your boyfriend with a scowl on your face. he’s been acting strangely all night, unable to sit still and humming things to himself, not that those things weren’t already parts of luca’s behaviour.

“why are you looking at me like that babe?” he asked, turning towards you with his hand intertwining with yours.

“you’ve just been acting so…”

“weirdchamp?” he asked.

“i wouldn’t put it that way, but somethings off.” you questioned, staring into his eyes.

“alright alright, you caught me. we’re going somewhere tonight.” he said, grinning.

your mind immediately wandered somewhere very very bad, and your face quickly heated up.

“what are you thinking about, babe?” he asked, a smile dancing on his lips.

“nothing!” you countered, blushing furiously.

you continued walking down the street, until you stopped outside the plaza.

“we’re here.”

luca grabbed your hand, guiding you to the centre of the plaza, and he grabbed your hand, twirling you around in a circle.

“i practiced for weeks to do this.” he said, professionally gliding on the concrete, grinning with that stupid look of his, determination shining in his eyes.

“…fine.” you said, smiling to yourself as he pounded the air with his fist.

“pog! come on!” and with that, he danced with you till the stars faded away and the sun rose.

ike eveland:

ike was never one to initiate much with you. he wasn’t shy per se, but more so nervous to impress you.

so when he invited you to dance in the city plaza with him at midnight, you grinned the widest you ever had in your life.

“do you wanna dance?” he asked, blush forming over his cheeks.

“yeah.” you replied, unable to form full sentences at this point, feeling giddy.

he tilted up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and grabbed your hand. his coat flowing in the night breeze and heels clacking on the concrete of the plaza, the rhythmic hums he exuded swept you off your feet as the two of you danced into the night.

shu yamino:

“why am i blindfolded, shu yamino?” you wondered, flailing around as you walked down the street holding his arm.

“you’ll see soon enough!” he joked, continuing to take you down the street.

“okay, baby, take a step forward with ur left foot, then your right, then step back again.” he instructed, holding your hands in his.

“what are you up to, silly?” you asked, laughing as you followed his steps, still with the fabric tied over your eyes.

“and voila! we’re dancing, baby!” he said, pulling off your blindfold as you looked into the eyes of your lover, grinning at you.

you could only beam back at him, laughing at his antics as you chatted and danced your silly little dance into the night.

[gwilymz]

filthy f*cking rich--part three

hey! here is part three; i made it quite a bit longer, as it’s more of a build up chapter + i have a wild couple of weeks coming up, so im not certain i’ll have time to write a lot! i hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to give me feedback; i love reading your thoughts for motivation!

Synopsis: Filled with guilt about what happened, you debate telling Rava, but don’t want to ruin everything you’ve built. But you’re certain it will never happen again, so what’s the harm in leaving out the truth?

Word Count: 5.1k 

Warning: Mention of drugs/alcohol, very tiny allusion to SA if you really squint

What was beautiful about October in New York–the molting trees, chartreuses turning to ochres and the visible metamorphosis from alive to dead–was gone, replaced with the silver sleet of brand new snow, the christening of December in the city. You were cold–freezing, actually–waiting for the subway. It was a Thursday, your least favorite day of the week. The day when every menial, trivial little thing you did each day before began to catch up to you, and you asked yourself: what the fuck am I doing? Waking up at seven, class at eight, and then another, and then another. Picking up Iverson and Sophie from school, pretending you had money, privilege, the comfort of the elite family you were paid to blend into three nights a week. Seeing their life, it made you wonder why the most wealthy always seemed to be the most wracked with unfathomable stress. Was that what made them rich? Was it that seething inability to let go, that primal drive for the top slot, the make-believe ceremony into the glistening one percent?

The job was almost depressing. Depressing, because you liked it so much, and eventually, you had to go back to shitty studio apartments and bugging millenial men at hole-in-the-wall bars for free shots. It was easy; Iverson and Sophie weren’t perfect kids, but they were fun, smart, independent. That fun age where they weren’t indoctrinated into thinking everything was so dumb and embarrassing. And, they were exceptionally excited, curious. Plus, you liked Rava–no, you loved her. She was charming, funny, beautiful, charismatic: the list goes on and on. And on and on if you really thought hard about it. But that was the thing about her. You didn’t have to think hard. You could smoke a cigarette with her in the backyard, you could tell her about boy problems, and she could tell you about failed first dates, and how hard she was trying to make amends with her husband, who she iterated, was her soon to be ex-husband. You were open with her, and she wanted to be more than just the woman who paid your rent and then some. 

Which is why you felt bad, arriving at Rava’s apartment that night. It was dark outside but only seven, the time of the year where you felt productivity should be a choice, a two hour obligation at most. You knocked on the door, rubbing your numbed hands together. Your fingers were prickly, but the anxiety in your stomach prickled more, explaining why you hadn’t bothered to eat all day. You had thought that burning, profound guilt in the pit of your gut would have subsided by now, at least a little. But, in fact, it had just gotten worse. Every joke, laugh, hug–everything you shared with Rava was tinged with that bitter tang of betrayal, and it felt disgusting.

Rava answered the door, pushing some dangly earrings into her lobes, long, delicate and gold. You stupidly wondered if Kendall had bought her those. 

“Hey, Y/N!” She smiled, ushering you in. “I’m so sorry for taking long, I thought Sophie was answering, I don’t know where she is–fuck, I’m flustered.” She shut the door behind you, slipping the other earring in. “I’m going on a date tonight, I thought why not, you know?”

You bent down, untying your sneakers. “Hey, no judgement. If anything, it’s a free dinner. But I hope it goes well, better than the last one at least.” Kicking off your shoes, you stood up. Rava took your coat, always so hospitable. 

“Yeah, no shit. Anything could be better.” She rolled her eyes, big and brown. You knew why Kendall had married her. Fuck. “Speaking of dates, I kind of went on one with Kendall. Last week.”

You tried not to give a reaction. “Oh, shit, Rava, how did that go? Should I be offering my condolences?” You quirked your eyebrows; your interest had been piqued. 

“Um, it was interesting. Pretty bad,” She admitted. “Could tell he had snorted a line–or four–before; he practically begged me to come out to dinner with him, talked himself up to me for an hour and then confessed he was still in love with me.” 

You were somehow shocked, yet unsurprised. The meaning of mutually exclusive seemed to not exist anymore. “Wow,” You walked with her to the kitchen, where Sophie and Iverson weren’t listening; they were tuned in to their iPads, dead to the world. “I mean, is he wanting to get back together, to scrap the divorce? He seems very unstable, all of this behavior, at least leads to the thought.”

“Unstable doesn’t even scratch the surface, Y/N.” She poured you a glass of water. “Do me a favor, don’t marry a rich guy. It seems fun, but they’re fucking insane. All the money with none of the emotional availability. I swear I never knew what the fuck was happening with him until we split up.” She waited for you to take a sip, lowering her voice. “Yeah, he does want to get back together, actually. I–don’t want the kids to know. It will get their hopes up, and Kendall is kind of fucking infamous for doing that to them–to everybody, actually. I just can’t though.” 

“Understandable,” you quipped. It was. “That’s just–I don’t even know what to say.”

“Me neither, I didn’t know what to say. Or do. I just wish he could move on. I want to be friendly, of course, but I can’t deal with the whole wining and dining and acting like I owe him something. He’s barely here, and when he’s here, he’s not here, you know? I just wish he would fuck someone else, get a distraction. Like, I wish I didn’t have to be the bitch anymore.” She was flustered, visibly annoyed by him, by the ordeal, by its effect on her children. She took a sip of tap water. “Listen, I’m sorry for dumping that on you. You’re young, no need to worry about marriage and all that. Seriously, revel in your youth. I’m jealous of you.” And just like that, she shrugged everything away. Off her shoulders, and onto your own. She hadn’t meant it that way, but your back was starting to become sore from carrying the shards of unspoken promises, broken and heavy. 

You laughed, trying not to let your anxiety seep through its guilty sound. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But seriously. I think the distraction is good. I don’t know if you feel guilty about the dates, but don’t. You deserve somebody new. A distraction, at least.”

Rava clutched her hand to her chest, bunching her eyebrows together. “Y/N,” She cooed. “So sweet. I seriously am so lucky to have found you. Fate’s mysterious, isn’t it?” 

And then she left, huddled under the arm of a tall attorney, blond and smiley, full of laughs that sounded genuine. Kendall would probably despise him. 

Resting your head on the kitchen island, you sighed. Rava had sent the kids upstairs to finish their homework, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Thus began the tri-weekly tug-of-war between whether to maintain your innocent, clueless veneer or to tell your boss-slash-friend that her ex-husband-who-stil-loves-her fucked you six weeks ago. Rava was right; fate was mysterious. And in that particular instance, you fucking hated it. 

–

At eleven-thirty, the kids were asleep. Probably not, but they were in their rooms, at least. You were on the couch in the living room, working on a final paper, something simple, but time consuming. Feeling a low vibration under your butt, you fumbled to grab your phone. 

“Hey,” You answered, opting to put earbuds in to quell the noise. “What’s up?” It was Libby and Amelia.

“I mean nothing, just procrastinating. You at Rava’s?” Amelia asked. You could hear her lighting a cigarette. 

“Yeah, she’s on a date. I’ll probably be here ‘til one.” You closed your laptop. 

“Long date.” Libby chimed in. “Listen, we are going out tomorrow. You’re fucking going.”

“No, I’m not.” You laughed, running a hand through your hair. 

“Dude, why the fuck not?” She groaned.

“I’m tired, for one. I just paid rent, for two.”

“Shut up, Y/N, I know your hourly rate.” Amelia took a drag, stifling a small cough. “No need to be coy about it.”

“Can I say something? ‘Cause Amelia and I have been talking about how fucking weird you have been.”

“Since when? It’s nothing personal, I’m just tired. Once finals–”

“Okay, no.” Amelia interrupted. “Ever since, like, fucking October, you’ve been weird. And we were kind of backtracking to see if it was something regarding us, but we think it was that club.”

“Okay, you’re backtracking now?” You scoffed. “Why are we sleuthing? And what club are you talking about?” Of course, you knew exactly what club. You hadn’t even stepped within a 100 foot radius of a club since that night–a hard feat for living in Manhattan. 

“The last time you went out!” Amelia responded, lighting another Camel Crush. “You went home with that rich guy, and we are concerned, is all. Not trying to pry, it just feels like maybe–”

“Maybe what?” You heard a door open upstairs. Getting up, you moved to the bathroom to your left. 

“Maybe he–” 

“Okay, no. I appreciate your concern, but no. It was good.”

“That’s great, Y/N, and you don’t like, owe us information, but we also think it’s weird you are kind of refusing to tell us anything about it.” Libby added. 

“Yeah, I know. I haven’t told you guys anything about it but–” You sighed, turning on the faucet to drown some of the noise out. The thing was, you really shouldn’t tell them. You wanted to. You also didn’t. The best option–the logical option–was to bury it deep down, hope to forget about it, and pray that whatever force of fate which created this depraved dynamic wouldn’t be cruel enough for Kendall to figure out it existed in the first place. But, keeping it locked up felt wrong, and who would your friends tell? They’d never meet Rava, nor Kendall, nor the kids. It had an allure. “Fuck, I can’t.”

“Okay, we really don’t want to pry but now we have to fucking know. So, we’re prying.” Amelia said. 

“Drop the mysterious shit right now.” Libby muttered. 

“Fuck! Okay!” You needed to tell someone. Any third party. You were surrendering. Your throat was dry, and it felt like a sign for you to keep your mouth shut, to swallow these poisonous words and hope they didn’t fucking kill you.  “I have to whisper. Even then, I really shouldn’t.”

“Is it actually that dramatic?” Libby asked. 

“Okay, shut up.” 

And then you told them. About his finger caked in coke, the flirty remarks and stolen touches at the club. The private driver, the perfect penthouse, the dirty sex, the heavily connoted name. Kendall Roy. 

“And?” Libby scoffed. 

“And.” You swallowed; there wasn’t a sound on the other lines. “And, my boss. Her name is Rava Roy.”

Both of them gasped simultaneously. “There is no fucking way.”

You shushed them, content on keeping the contents of the call within the safe haven of the downstairs bathroom, hidden in the cranberry candle scented air. “And I don’t need it getting out. To anyone.”

“Okay, well.” Amelia urged.

“Well, what,” You whisper-yelled.

“If you didn’t know that he was their dad and her ex beforehand then obviously he’s not very involved–”

“--Yes, meaning he is a piece of shit, deadbeat dad. And that he’s likely a privileged little slut.”

“--Also meaning, there’s like, no chance he will find out. Or that she will.” Amelia continued. “He was a good fuck;  it was a coincidence. You didn’t even know until after the fact.”

Libby interrupted. “Yeah, I mean it would be completely different and fucked if you had known the whole time, but you didn’t so, just a freaky coincidence. Big whoop. It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess, but do you at least see why I’m freaking the fuck out?” You asked. Realizing the water was still running, you turned off the faucet, pressing an ear to the door to listen for any eavesdropping or the soft padding of socks downstairs. Sophie was keen on midnight snacks. 

“Yes,” Libby replied. “Definitely.”

“Plus,” You interjected, leaning your back against the door, assessing that the coast was, in fact, clear. “Rava confides in me and tells me a strange amount about their dynamic. Last week he like, tried to fuck her and confessed he’s still in love with her and that he wants to get back with her.”

“And does she want that?”

“No, but–” you sighed. “I really fucking like this job, and Rava and the kids and the fucking money. And I’m just fucking guilty. And I feel like this means he’s like, wanting to be more present in their lives, which is good, but also sucks because I don’t want to be a bitch, because Sophie and Iverson deserve that but–”

“Okay, Y/N, take a deep breath. It’s okay.” Amelia interjected. 

You sighed, taking her advice, holding your breath and counting to ten. “I want him to be better for their sake. But if I’m here three nights a week, and he’s back in their lives consistently, I’m bound to see him eventually.”

You hung up, not wanting to keep thinking it over, not wanting anyone else’s mistaken advice. You could quit, but there were practically no pros on that side of the chart. You would lose your income, have to get a job that required actual labor, and get paid a quarter of your current wage. Plus you would lose touch with Rava, and the kids. 

And maybe, just maybe, the tiny little devil on your shoulder was also a little bummed that you would be further removed from Kendall. Because as much as you had thought about him within the context of Rava and your job, and Sophie and Iverson, you also couldn’t stop thinking about the way he kissed you and how the bassy sound of his voice in your ear made your back arch. And that–admitting that little pang of disappointment stemmed from a small crush on Kendall Roy–was what pissed you off the most about the entire situation. 

–

Friday night came quickly, and you had forgotten about your ordeal, as you had so endearingly decided to call it, a shorthand for the cause of your biweekly panic attacks and the reason why therapists near me was your most recent Google search. It wasn’t by your own doing; Amelia and Libby had all but forced you to take a few tequila shots with them, a celebration of the weekend and a triumphant end of the fall semester. 

“What club are we going to?” You asked, fake gagging as you handed Libby another tequila shot; a smell akin to hand sanitizer and nail polish remover wafted into your nose.

“Not a club,” She responded, slamming the shot back. “We thought it might be a little more wise if we eased you back into things.”

“Ease me back into things? So a bar?” You laughed, holding up two different tops, a silent inquiry as to which one fit better for the occasion. 

“Not a bar either,” Amelia pointed to the black one, a low cut and lacy number that was somehow as slutty as it was classy. “Some guy invited us to a party at his ‘big boy house’ as he called it.”

You dropped the shirt onto your bed, confused. “What the fuck?” Pulling your t-shirt off over your head, you turned to face them. “What guy? We are not going to some random guy’s ‘big boy house’.”

“I don’t remember his name. Don’t think he gave it to us.” Amelia shrugged.

“Okay, well that’s somehow the least of my concerns right now.”

Libby shimmied into a tight dress, pulling the straps over her arm. “It’s fine. We can check it out and see how many people are there and dip if it's sketchy. No big deal.”

Amelia shrugged. “We just thought it was a different scene. If you really don’t wanna go–” 

“--No, I’ll go. I’m just high strung right now. If this guy holds us hostage in his closet, though, I’m fucking killing you both first.” 

“Yeah, fair,” Amelia leaned out your window, smoking a cigarette. The night was cold, the cars on the street more obnoxious than usual, thanks to the taupe sludge which lined the streets and gutters of every corner of the city. “Trust us, though,” She exhaled. “He really does not seem like the type to have it in him.”

“Yeah,” you quipped. “That’s kinda the point–it’s how they always get away with it.” 

“Well then, we might as well make the best of it and have fun.” Amelia took a swig of warm pink lemonade; it was the only thing available to chase with. 

“Okay, do you want to take the subway or walk? Walking is a little longer, but I’m not sure about the delays.” Libby sat next to you, pointing to where you were going. 

“The Upper East Side?” You zoomed in on her screen, sighing. “I guess it’s not, like, horrifically far, but how did you even get in contact with this guy?”

“Coffee shop in the financial district. Libby was on coffee break from her internship.”

“Yeah,” Libby interjected. “I mean, he was telling a lot of people about it. It was weird, but like, we don’t have anything else to do.”

“Yes, it is weird. Very American Psycho.” You pointed to the fastest route, settling on taking the subway to conserve your energy. 

“Like we said, we will see. No problem.” 

You arrived at the address around one, regretting that your sherpa lined coat wasn’t draped over your shoulders. You had only had to walk a couple minutes from the station, but it was one of those sharp, heavy colds that stung your nose and pricked your skin immediately upon contact. 

There was definitely a party; bassy house music seeped through the floor-to-ceiling windows, floating downwards to where you stood. Libby dialed someone on her phone; he was under the name Tall Party Dude. 

“Hey,” She said. It seemed he had answered quickly. “Me and my friends are outside. Do I need to buzz, or–”

You could hear through her phone the lively chatter around him. It quickly got shut out by the slam of a door, the padding of clicky footsteps down cement stairs. “Okay, yeah. I’ll just come let you up. Sorry ‘bout that.”  

Libby hung up. “See?” She shrugged, alluding to his meek demeanor. 

A lanky man opened the front door, sheathed in sweat and a look of pure discomfort. He smiled sheepishly at your group, ushering you into the building. The sound inside was pure, uncontaminated; it was obvious nobody else lived in the building, although there were obviously multiple units housed inside. 

“I’m Greg,” He waved, ducking down to climb up the stairs. “The elevators don’t really work right now. Not very accessible of a building, but–”

You all introduced yourselves, taking in the magnitude of the penthouse with a childish awe. The ceilings were massively high, causing the music to float and echo, bouncing off of clean, white walls. There was little furniture inside; it looked like it was barely lived in, a skeleton of a home, just for sleeping, and well, parties, you guessed. It reminded you so clearly of–

“Kendall!” Greg pushed through a small group of boys who looked to be about your age, a flock huddled around the kitchen counter. 

Holy fuck. You spun around, searching for refuge: a chair, a place to blend in, the easiest exit, a balcony, even. Amelia and Libby were already smoking a joint with two men who looked to be pushing thirty-five and forty. 

You could have left; the door was huge, inviting, and right in front of you. Calling to you. But you knew your friends would get worried and follow you, plus you didn’t want to ruin the night; Libby and Amelia had been over the moon when you finally agreed to coming along. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself–and the tequila-drunk devil on your shoulder–that you weren’t going to talk to him. No, you weren’t even going to look at him.

–

Greg ran a hand through his poorly-gelled hair. He didn’t think it was that poorly done, but Tom was getting fed up being Greg’s version of Mr. Miyagi for business etiquette, so he had promptly given up on the task of fixing Greg’s physical appearance. His dopey-awkward-young-man look would have to suffice, and God, that boy was lucky nepotism existed.

“Hey, Kendall,” Greg cooed, grabbing his wrist. He was after the little paper straw grasped between Kendall’s pointer finger and thumb. “Let’s just go easy tonight.”

Kendall shooed his hand away, pulling his wrist back. “Fuck you, it’s a party. I just fuckin’ gifted you this home. Let me live.” He flicked his baggie of coke, the fine white powder jumping to coat the sides. 

“Yes, you’re right. But, like, you’ve already done some tonight, and I just feel like there’s a lot of people you could talk to here. Like, women and stuff.” 

“Yeah, I know I’ve done some. Coke, I mean.” Kendall scoffed, cutting three lines with his credit card. It was heavy; the dark chrome shimmered under the dim, overhead lights of the apartment as he moved it languidly. “And now,” He sing-songed. “I will be doing some more!”

“Come on,” Greg attempted to take his sacred paraphernalia, but was quickly blocked by Kendall’s free hand, which slapped him away hurriedly, giving him just enough time to bend down and snort. It felt like a cat fight, like he was seven and being bullied by his much older, brooding brother. “You said you wanted–pussy,” Greg whispered. “I feel like this is a good time to go for that. And maybe to chill. With the drugs.” 

Kendall guffawed, using his thumb to wipe the fallen powder from around his flared nostril. “Greg,” He slapped a hand on his shoulder. “I think it would be a better idea if we got you some pussy. You are fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“I don’t know I’m not–”

“Not what?” Kendall leaned forward, taunting. His elbows rested on his knees, sleeves rolled up. His arms were warm; he could feel his heart pulsing through his wrists; it was fast, fluttering, and seemed to coincide with the bass of whatever clubby song was coursing through each chamber of the apartment. “Cousin Greg, do you have something to tell me?” He feigned shock. 

“No, I don’t, I just–”

“Greg, there are so many women here. Just, like, look around and–” Kendall gestured to the entirety of the apartment; it was organized like the sea. Schools of people weaved around each other, occupying the kitchen, the foyer, the living room where the two of them now sat, facing each other on pristine white love seats. New, expensive. Kendall’s eyes had scanned everywhere and everyone, and he had landed on who he thought was you, the pretty girl he somehow took home. The one who was profoundly clever, who sported coy smiles and outfits that wouldn’t work on anyone else. He knew it was you without even seeing your face; there was that same force he felt back in October, a hypnotic clarity, a tunnel-vision, leading to where you were leaning, back towards him, the light of your phone a halo, beckoning him to you. Kendall became stoic, determined. “Greg, see that girl in the corner?” He asked. 

Greg looked to the corner behind him. “What girl?”

Kendall pushed him to look the other way. “Obviously not the corner without a fucking girl in it.” 

“Okay, jeez. Yeah, I do see her.”

Kendall pushed one of his sleeves up. “Go over there. Get her to come over here.”

“Man, why can’t you?” Greg sighed, slouching.

“Because I’m fucking asking you to do it.” Kendall stared at him, unflinching. It was easy, with awkward silence and persistence, to make Greg do whatever he wanted. 

“Fuck, fine.” Greg scratched his head, leaning forward. His eyebrows were permanently furrowed, anxiety tattooed in his face. “What do you want me to say to her?”

Kendall didn’t know; there was a lot on his mind. He was hot but also fucking freezing. His nose tingled. His dad hated him, and so did the rest of his family. He wanted to know why you didn’t stay, and he wanted to know why he even cared. And, shallowly, he wanted to fuck you again, fast, slow–he didn’t fucking care. He wanted a lot; that was always the source of his suffering, and why it was so ubiquitous, an infection plaguing every facet of his life, the self-fulfilling prophecy that cycled round and round forever. 

He spoke up, realizing the silence had overstayed its welcome. “Um, not sure. You need to learn some fucking game. Just figure it out.”

“But–”

“I swear to God, Greg.”

“Fine.”

He strode over to you quickly; it took him half as many strides as the average person. Not knowing the right course of action, he tapped on your shoulder, making you jump. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” You turned your phone off, looking up at the tall stranger whose living room corner you were getting to know so well. 

“My bad,” He began. “I just–my friend over there–well, not my friend. My cousin. Slash boss, maybe? He wanted you to come over to him.”

Peering behind him, your expectations matched the man you were looking at. His legs were spread, arms behind his head, eyes closed. Sunken into the love seat, he should have looked at peace, comfortable, at least. Instead, he looked a little bit miserable. Kendall was an enigma; you knew almost everything about his personal life, from Rava, from your obsessive research after making the horrid connection back in October. But you still didn’t understand him. And you didn’t think anybody else did either. 

Locking eyes with the tall man–Greg–again, you crossed your arms. “Why can’t he ask me? Plus, I’m not interested.”

“He wants me to develop my skills. Communication skills.”

“Okay, that's pathetic, and not true.” 

“Why do you think that?” Greg scratched his neck, a telltale sign of his being uncomfortable. 

“I just know that’s not the reason. Call it a hunch.”

“Well,” Greg gestured. “What should I tell him?”

You peered past Greg’s willowy silhouette again. This time Kendall’s eyes were open, and they were stuck on you, large, unwavering. His pupils were heavily dilated; whether it was from lust or cocaine, you couldn’t be certain. Possibly both. Definitely both. 

“Tell him,” You began, eyes still on Kendall. “If he wants to talk, he’ll have to come to me himself.”

You knew he had sent Greg over as a buffer; you had practically made a beeline to the street from his penthouse that night. It was abrupt, and you never gave him an explanation. But telling him you were his childrens’ babysitter while he was strung out and you drunk–well, that wasn’t an option. 

Greg had already gone back to Kendall. You could see them bickering; Kendall’s eyebrows were woven together, eyes firm on his target: you. Pulling at the top few buttons of his pressed white shirt, Kendall stood up, coming your way. 

You had obviously seen him striding towards you, confident from three vodka sodas and sporting that signature look of his— a semi pout paired with his sad, furrowed brows–but you were still surprised when stopped right in front of you, looking confused. As if you owed him a curtsy and a blowjob right then and there. 

“Y/N,” He began. It was obvious he didn’t know where he was going with this; rich men are always taken aback when they don’t immediately get their way, and Kendall was no different. He sort of expected you to be the obedient girl you had been in his penthouse that night, wrapped around his fingers, malleable, awaiting any and every command he gave you.

“Yes?” You encouraged. 

Kendall backed you against the wall, his palm flush against the wall as he literally cornered you. “I’m just confused, is all.”

“Did I do something confusing? I thought I was clear when I left your place.”

“Clear about what?” He questioned. “It was clear you became uncomfortable and then booked it out of there.”

You pretended to think. “So, your response to that is to literally back me into a wall at a party, where you’re clearly strung out on something?”

Kendall opted to stand next to you, peeling his hand off the exposed brick. “Yeah, point taken.” He agreed. “But, I don’t know.” 

“We can’t see each other.” You said. “Is what I was trying to be clear about.”

“Okayyyy–” He bit his lip, tilting his head back to look at the tall ceilings, tinged purple from whatever shitty party lights Greg had bought for the occasion. “But it’s interesting that we ran into each other again.”

You shrugged. “Maybe to you.”

“It is interesting to me.” His pointer finger dragged across your jaw, softly tilting your head to look his way. His eyes were gigantic, behind his pupils were pretty brown irises, tinged in green; the lights in the apartment had changed. “It’s also interesting that you’re still here. If you can’t see me so bad.”

You shrugged, looking down at the floor, your scuffed sneakers. 

“Why can’t you see me? Why is that exactly?”

“Why do you want to?”

“I don’t know, actually.” He admitted. “I asked myself the same thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled his collar, bringing him closer. “I think it’s just the drugs and the alcohol and the coincidence that I’m here right now that’s making you feel this way. But trust me, when I leave here tonight, you’ll never see me again.”

That, of course, was extremely unlikely to be true. In fact, you didn’t know why you had said it at all. Each new day you spent babysitting for Rava was a new chance for Kendall to come by to her mossy brownstone, begging for forgiveness, an unnumbered new chance. 

“Hm,” He placed his palm on the small of your back, pulling you against him. You could feel his heartbeat against you. “I guess we will just have to see.”

His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, beckoning you to look up at him. He wasn’t holding you tight, and with the movement of the party, the two of you had migrated even closer to the door. To freedom. To the chance to do the right thing. 

The devil on your shoulder won, after all, because when Kendall pushed his tongue into your mouth, you moaned with a sense of relief, as if you had been in desperate anticipation of him forever. A part of you, when he grabbed your face to pull you even closer, realized you had been, in a way.

[arisatominakos]

5 SONG PAIRING PLAYLIST.  

i was tagged by @aartyom & now im feral for my stupid oc otp that consumes my goddamn life this took me days to narrow some shit down & i will never be calm about these two my ocs are my hyperfixation ok listen, i’m tagging:   @sunflcwyr @arisatohamuko @lunarlegend @eurodynamic @shipmastered @katsigian​ & you ! bc a lot of ppl have been tagged in this already n this took me like what a week idk tag me so i can see it.

BEG FOR YOU || charli xcx ft rina sawayama

put your lips on my lips, i'll remember your kiss, on the nights when i miss you / something i can't forget, when i'm restless in bed, you got me obsessed || you're like an ocean breeze coming and going just as you please / separated by a degree, hesitate and i lose you / so far out of reach

HEAVENFACED || the national

i could walk out, but i won’t / in my mind i am in your arms. / i wish someone would take my place, can’t face heaven all heavenfaced. / no one’s careful all the time, if you lose me, i’m gonna die.

SCARY LOVE || the neighbourhood

i didn't know we'd get so far & it's only the start || your love is therapy / no drug can give me clarity / as much as you do || drivin' through the city with me, just watching you glow / i'm in the passenger seat, you're in control

HERE TO MARS || coheed & cambria

understood, give me a second chance / i know i could be your better half || pardon me, i think i'm going out of my head & into the worst / a world without your verse, a world without you hurts please, i'm sorry / i will never let you go

SO HIGH || ghost loft

bring me back around, i'm holding on to what i can't have / make it last a while, you help me up when i'm down || do you realize what you do to me ?

i’m gonna include a few songs here that either lyrically do not have romantical-ness but the vibe is so inexplicably meldesh i cant explain it its their song(s) or just fit lyrics bad or genre not fitting their aesthetic:

LOVE IT IF WE MADE IT / the 1975  ||  FOREVER( pt II ) / snakehips ft  kaleem taylor  ||  3005 / childish gambino  ||  VOID / the neighbourhood  ||  GOLD / chet faker  ||  LOVER BOY / phum viphurit  ||  DIARIES / the birthday massacre  ||  TELEPATÍA / kali uchis  ||  LOVE TOXIC / royal pirates  ||  FRIDAY NIGHT / the darkness

                                                                                        -i will shut up now

[tweekfilms]

its a nice day, right ?

its been a while but you know welcome back to another narration

as soon as karolina parked the car near the pier, chase was already feeling nervous. after molly had texted him the day before , it changed his mood quite a bit.

“you ok” karolina asked

“molly told me something about gert and her parents and its distracting also did you know that gert has feelings for me” chase told karolina about his conversation with molly to which her expression became pained

“look chase i have to tell you something but please don’t be mad at me” karolina shifted her feet

chase nodded and waited for karolina to speak as she took a big sigh

“i told gert about what happened to you six years ago and i told her about your feelings for her”

“oh” chase quietly said

“im so sorry i know i messed up and if you’re mad at me and don’t want to speak to me again. i’ll understand” karolina started speaking very quickly

“its fine, you had the courage to say it and i was a coward about it” chase sighed

“still..im sorry” karolina apologized again

“let’s just face everyone and we can talk later but i promise you im not mad” chase assured to which karolina just sighed

when they met up with everyone else, nico took karolina’s hand and dragged her somewhere to which chase smiled.

“hey uh how have you been” gert asked as she approached him

“good, just relearning the city and stuff” chase awkwardly smiled

“i don’t want to make this too awkward but can we talk privately tomorrow at the park, i really need to talk to you” gert whispered

chase’s heartbeat started rapidly pacing. she knew about everything now and what if she never wanted to see him again

“yeah i’ll meet you there” chase smiled

gert was about to speak before molly came dragging two girls with her

“there you are. i wanted to introduce you to them so chase this is gaby and melody and gaby and melody. this is chase” molly introduced the three of them

gaby was very nice and they instantly had an easy conversation although he recognized her frim somewhere but melody seemed to hate his guts because it was very awkward.

“look give her time” gaby’s voice frightened chase as he grabbed the food that he ordered

“i didn’t want to say this in front of everyone but i remember you” chase asked

“yeah i visited your friend karolina’s mom because my parents know her and you and i met in new york and you told me about your well problem” gaby recalled for him

“did you tell anyone” chase asked

“no because i thought that everyone would think i was crazy but well” gaby shrugged as she looked towards molly who was talking with gert

“you like molly huh ?” chase smiled

“uh” gaby’s face immediately turned red

“look i won’t tell her at least just yet” chase assured her

“its just i haven’t told her about seeing you before you came back and if i did tell her. she would get mad at me because you know” gaby sighed

“look be honest with her trust me” chase said thinking about his own problem

“also about melody, she’s just indifferent towards you because everyone has talked about you non stop for six years and i guess she got annoyed by it and also doesn’t understand the severity of what happened” gaby added

“oh makes sense” chase shrugged

“don’t be so hard on yourself you know” gaby said

“i try not to” chase sighed

by the evening, everyone had gone their separate ways and chase and karolina headed back to their apartment

“how was your day with nico” chase teased

“shut up” karolina blushed

“tell me” chase insisted

“it was amazing, we just talked and laughed and opened up to each other. it was nice” karolina smiled

“im glad” chase was happy that karolina was finally getting to open up to someone again

“look chase everything will be alright with gert when you talk to her tomorrow” karolina seemed to notice his distress

“i hope you’re right” chase sighed

“look let’s relax and watch some cheesy movies to help you destress ok” karolina suggested

chase agreed and decided to get some popcorn despite enjoying the movies. he still felt a big worry in his brain about everything.

[sourholland]

Some timothee fluff pleass :)) love your work !!

Cake || Timothée Chalamet

Summary → You go live on Instagram and bake a cake. Timothée comes home halfway through and doesn’t realize you’re live-streaming.

AN → This is just pure fluff tbh, a little short but pure fluff

Pairing(s) → Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language

Word Count → 900

You stepped back, pressing the ‘go live’ button on your Instagram. In the shot behind you was your oven and white countertops, a few plants, and the earthy green cupboards.

Since you had done 73 questions with Vogue, your New York City penthouse apartment had become sort of famous. Everyone had absolutely died over your kitchen, adoring the many plants and bronze pots and pans hanging from the ceiling.

You were dressed in a pair of white flowing pants, overtop of it was a simple black tank top and a grey zip up that belonged to Timothée.

Within the first few seconds, thousands of people had joined the livestream. Comments began to flood in, some of them making you laugh while you leaned in to glance at the phone you’d sat against the counter. There were dozens of remarks just on the atmosphere of your apartment.

It was heavily raining outside, a thick smog covering the city. You had lit candles all throughout your’s and Timothée’s shared space. He didn’t mind the crystals scattered around, resting on windowsills and shelves. He quite often asked for you to read his tarot cards, loving the way you would sit crisscross in front of him on the carpet and explain what everything meant.

userone: im so fucking in love with you

usertwo: where’s timmy????

userthree: make a tiktok pls

You scrolled through comments, laughing at a few, making sure not to dwell on some of the harsher ones. You smiled at the few familiar friends joining the live, exchanging a bit of banter as you grabbed some ingredients out of the fridge.

“Okay—so, as you all know, I’m no chef,” you snorted, holding up the box of cake mix. “All it needs is like eggs, water, and oil—I figured I couldn’t really fuck that up.”

florencepugh: i’m disappointed y/n

oliviarodrigo: you’ll find a way y/n/n

“Flo, I’m sorry,” you whined, drawling out the y.

The soft hum of Fleetwood Mac played in the back, Spotify just barely visible behind you on your laptop. Timothée was out, and you had tried to occupy yourself, finding nothing better to do than bake.

You cracked the eggs into the large plastic bowl, grinning at the phone in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that someone would turn these clips into an Instagram edit.

userfour: i love u sm

userfive: how do u look so effortlessly good tf

usersix: i love ur kitchen stoppppppppp

userseven: bi panic

“You guys are hysterical—shit, I think I almost put too much oil in,” you said in a hushed tone.

lydianight: NOT U LITERALLY FUCJING UP CAKE OUT OF A BOX PLEASEEE

odessaazion: ur literally so hot y/n even if u can’t make food for shit

userseven: LMAOO DID SHE EVEN READ THE BOX ???

“You guys have no faith in me,” you said, chuckling as you whisked. “It’s disheartening, really. I’m hurt!”

You jokingly placed a hand on your heart, pretending to cry. You had bits of the packaged cake mix on your cheeks, hair pulled back and out of your face. The pan was greased in front of you, This Town by Niall Horan coming on behind you.

You were so focused on getting the clumps of chocolate powder separated that you hadn’t even heard the jangle of keys at the front door, or the sound of it shutting. You held the bowl up to the camera, nodding that it looked good enough.

You yelped when a pair of hands slid over your hips, pulling them back and making you jump. Timothée turned you around a moment later and cupped the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a quick kiss. He was in a grey hoodie and black joggers, hair skewed about under a navy blue baseball cap and slightly wet.

“If the whole world was watching I’d still dance with you,” he mumbled, spinning you around in a playful dance a moment later.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you giggled at his swaying motion.

“Yeah? I yelled your name,” he pecked your lips in between each word.

usereight: im gonna go cry now

usernine: tell me ur single without telling me ur single

userten: fuck that’s so cute

usereleven: AND NIALLLL STOP

“I’m on live,” you said, watching him look over at the phone and awkwardly wave.

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me?” He chuckled, dipping a finger into the cake mix before you could swat his hand away.

He sucked on his index finger a moment later, ignoring you as you hit him a few times with the oven mitt at your right. He snatched the wooden spoon not far from him and held it up with a wide grin.

“You sure about that?” He mused, waving it in the air.

usertwelve: when they hit each other with kitchen suppliesssss

userthirteen: i’ll never be over this

“Was the cake mix any good, at least?” You couldn’t help but ask, watching him take off the hat, ruffle his hair a bit and then put it back on.

“I love you—but it tasted like shit,” he barely got out, running as you started to swat him with the mitt again.

userfourteen: god im so alone

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

[burnedbyshoto]

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

.

.

.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

.

.

.

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 

.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

.

.

“WHAT?!”

.

.

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus! 

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[koi-bysunset]

hi! first, i want to say that your post about touch-ups on toasty’s hair has been living in my brain all day, i love it so much <333

what about a scenario where xyx takes you on his bike to one of his favourite locations? :)

signing as anon bc i’m not brave

- 🦎

HELLO YES I KNOW YOU IVE SEEN YOUR ASKS AROUND!!! HI!! THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOD IM ON MY KNEES BRO

i know i said i’ll answer this during the weekend, but i couldn’t help myself. i hope u like this just as much as my other stuff!

(wherein xyx takes you for a morning outside.)

today you've learned to be careful of what you wish for.

you've always hinted at wanting to be taken to xyx' favorite place. sure, you've learned not to push things too far when it comes to him, but it still remains at the back of your mind, never failing in making itself known every few days. after all, for a man who's travelled most of the world, his favorite place would have to be pretty special. oh, regret.

you wake up to a warm breeze on your face--too warm. you lift your hand up to shield yourself from it, and the wind comes forth with a voice. "come on, love. time to get up."

"wh..." you open your eyes--they're crusted together, oh god--and see xyx's face over yours, lips pursed and ready to blow air on your face again to wake you up. "huh?"

"get ready, we're leaving in 10 minutes." you feel his lips press on your cheek. "where are we going?" your voice is hoarse and you can barely see past the sleepy haze, but you start to get up anyway. a soft green light catches your eye and you look at it: the clock reads 4:00AM. "xyx what the fuck."

"as much as i love watching you sleep, i'm taking you somewhere."

"uh, okay? where?"

"somewhere special." you feel the bed dip as he leans in to give you a kiss. "this is going to be worth it, love. i promise." your mind clears a little bit as you decide to humor him and make your way over to the bathroom to make yourself look less like a sleepy disaster. you do the bare minimum: wash your face, brush your teeth, comb out your hair with your fingers. you take a second to look at yourself in the mirror and decide to put on a little bit of perfume.

xyx waits for you outside, leaning on his motorbike. "took you long enough."

"oh i'm sorry, it's kind of hard to get my ass up when the birds aren't even awake yet." he only chuckles in reply and swings his leg over his bike. "get in, we don't have all day."

"i'm pretty sure we do when it's this early." he only gives you a look. "doll. behave." 

that's surely one way to shut you up.

you oblige him and ride the bike, going behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. "all good, love?" you nod against his back, still reeling from his last comment. he revs the engine and you're off.

if you weren't awake then, you're certainly awake now. you've never really gotten used to riding with xyx, at least not yet. he drives with a unique intensity, like he's always racing someone even if there's nobody else there. like he's running away from something. hair whipping in the wind and air whistling on your ears, he drives and brakes and speeds and all you can do is hold on to him like your life depended on it, because oftentimes it does.

you race through traffic, passing the city to the residential areas, then the open highway, ending up going through a dirt road. xyx goes slower now, swerving to avoid chunks of rock and hardened soil. eventually you come to a closed fence, overrun with weeds and crawling vines. "we're here, love." you can feel his voice vibrate through his back. "are you alright?"

"yeah, just a little winded. that was a long ride. what was that, one hour?" he gently taps your hand to let you know it's time to get off. "one and a half hours, actually." you get off and so does he, and he pushes the motorbike up to the chain linked fence. you see him yank on something repeatedly, and the gate announces its opening with a loud creak. he goes in without another word, and of course you follow.

the gate seems to entrap a small jungle. grass covers every inch of the ground, save for a few cracked and mossy slabs of cement to serve as footpaths. you look to the right and see what seems to be a ticket booth covered in moss and dirt. you see bushes, trees, defunct lamp posts wrapped in vines. the place seemed to be abandoned for years, if not decades.

xyx seems to feel your curiosity. "this place was once a botanical garden," he starts to explain. "it was supposed to be for the students at the community college just behind this. the college ran out of money, and they had to shut everything down." you walk on a canopy of dried leaves and overripe fruit. "nobody bothered to clean up the mess to put it back on the market, so i bought it and left it this way."

"thank god. by the way you wrestled that gate i thought we were doing a little B&E this morning." he laughs loudly. "did you really? that's adorable." he looks back at you. "don't worry doll, i'll represent both of us if it comes to it." you just roll your eyes at him in response. "we're here." he kicks the stand for the motorcycle and leaves it aside.

it's just now that you notice he brought his work satchel with him. "what's that for?"

"you'll see."

"but i want to see it now." he clicks his tongue. "tsk, tsk. what did i say about behaving?" he winks. "anyway, we're here. just a few steps left, doll."

you hear it before you see it: running water. xyx pushes aside a few branches and you see a staircase leading down to a small waterfall. the water is clear and the rocks are smooth with years of continuous erosion, and you can see there are stumps and slabs of concrete built as a makeshift picnic table. you gasp. "xyx... wow." he's already gone down a few steps, and he's reaching out to you. "be careful my love, you might slip. hold on to me, yeah?"

the two of you go down the stairs, and he puts down the satchel on the table. "beautiful, isn't it?" he points to the direction opposite the waterfall. "the sun rises on that side." he starts taking out several plastic tubs filled with food, and it hits you: a sunrise picnic. "xyx." he ignores you. "xyx."

"you asked me once about taking you to my favorite spot and i just." he pauses as he opens the lids of the containers. toast, tomatoes, eggs, avocado, insulated mugs for coffee. "i know you think about it, sometimes. you don't say it but i can feel it." he looks at you. "i was just afraid i'll fuck it up or you won't like it. i had to convince myself for a while that you haven’t actually seen it yet to even say you don’t like it." you step closer to him and he looks away. "this is the one place i have where everything falls away and sometimes i go here to think about a lot of things--to think about us." 

"nothing bad, i hope." he laughs, soft and vulnerable. you want to reach out to him, but you know he doesn't like to be coddled. "no, no. nothing bad, love. just--ah, can we sit?" you oblige him and you both sit down. he brings out two empty containers and begins dividing the portions. one for you, one for him. "just, you know. general stuff."

you know he isn't done talking, so you wait. "i genuinely didn't think i'd love you like this, you know." his face is tinged pink, and you see the rays of sunlight slowly peeking from behind his head. the morning is still blue, but the warmth reaches out its fingers. "it's been a lifelong fear of mine--being left alone. sometimes i let people in and," he adjusts himself on his seat and grabs a plastic fork to start eating, but instead he just holds it, poised to slice himself a bite but not actually doing it. "i always think that they'll leave one way or another. most times i'm proven right." oh, your heart begins to ache for him, for this self-fulfilling prophesy, this self-fulfilling tragedy, this man who is always left behind, who took up law to make himself see better, pick things apart and choose words in a way that suits him to let people think he's being generous without actually giving anything. your heart aches for this man, your broken lover, smile wielded like a weapon, jokes at the ready like bows and arrows pulled taut, heart locked in a chest in a secret room, only allowing the briefest of glimpses. 

his face is open, so open to you, you're the only one to see him like this, weapons lowered, gates lifted, guards guiding you to his heart. "sometimes, though," he reaches out to hold your hand. "i'm proven wrong."

you don't know what to say, so you say nothing, you squeeze his hand and fight back tears and hope it's enough, hope that he sees how you're bleeding for him, how you'll give the world to him if he so much as ask. "i've never felt so alive, since you. i always knew what being alive is supposed to feel like, but i've never quite gotten there. no matter how far up i jump, no matter how fast i drive, it's just out of my reach." he exhales a laugh through his nose. "i used to think something was wrong with me, you know." a beat of silence passes. "i mean, something's definitely wrong with me, but--you know what i mean." his voice is softer now, going softer still--barely a whisper above the river's music--and the sun starts to show the top of its head from the horizon. "i used to... i used to think about it a lot, you know. how close i could cut it. how much farther i have to go so i can just feel alive." he picks at his food. "i never thought i would get that feeling just being in a call with you and watching you fuck up tongue twisters."

the laugh that bursts out of you is loud and unexpected. "oh my god you ass, stop ruining the moment, i haven't told you that i love you too." his smile eases. "it's not ruining the moment if it's true, love." he traces circles on your hand with his thumb. "sometimes when we stay in and you get really close to me, i'll start to feel my heart pounding. i-it's ridiculous, really."

you are melting. the sun reveals itself behind xyx and he is bathed in a golden halo of light, heart bare and yours for the taking. "xyx." he is starting to trust again and he chose you to trust just as much as you chose him. you grip his hand tight and try to say all the words you can't because the words 'i love you' sound so simple now. this is more than that. this is lifetimes of devotion and trust and deep caring that consumes, that gives, that hurts and fills and breaks and forms. this is love unprecedented, this is what being alive is like. "i love," you choke because the word is not enough and you're frustrated, dammit, you want him to know everything that he makes you feel and you want to give him your still-beating heart and let him know you are at his mercy. but sure, the word love will do. "i love you. so fucking much."

he smiles back at you, sunlit and sublime, and for a moment you realize that this is something that will stay with you forever. "i love you too." he looks down at the food on the table. "let's eat, shall we? don't want this to get cold, not after i spent hours preparing this." you nod, taking a bite. xyx turns his head back and sees a fully-risen sun. "ah, dammit. missed the sunrise." you smile to yourself. you got to see the sunrise, and he was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen that morning.

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 6

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: Language!, angst, short chapter (sorry)

--

Bucky didn’t now how long he sat on the floor, constantly re-reading your letter. He could feel the hurt and anger in your words, and it killed him. He knew Dot did something while he was away, but what? His immediate reaction was to go to Dot and confront her, but he didn’t trust that he wouldn’t hurt her. 

After what seemed like forever, there was a low knock on the door. Steve and Nat came in and saw Bucky on the floor, and quickly ran over.

“Buck? What happened man? Where’s Y/N?” Steve asked in concern.

Nat picked up the letter and read it, immediately getting angry. “What the fuck did you do now Barnes? You promised that you wouldn’t fuck up again,” Nat said.

Bucky turned to Nat with a mix of sadness and anger, “I didn’t do anything! I was on the mission with you. I came up from Medbay and found her letter. Dot must have done something while we were away. I have to find Y/N. I need to fix this,” Bucky said with tears running down his face.

Nat felt sorry for the super soldier, but her anger immediately switched to Dot. What did that bitch do to you that you upped and left with no word. Nat looked at Steve who also looked angry.

“Have you spoken to Dot yet?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head, “I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t hurt or kill her. I’ve been here since I saw the note. What if I never get Y/N back? She... she is the love of my life Steve. I need to find her,” Bucky begged.

“I’ll help you find her, but I think we need to find out what Dot did before we talk to Y/N. At least so you know what you are dealing with,” Nat said.

Steve shook his head, “Dot won’t tell us anything. She was a manipulative bitch back in the day. I can’t imagine how bad she is now that she wasn’t allowed to have what she wanted,” Steve said angrily.

Nat was shocked at Steve’s outburst, but thought about how they could fix this. “What if we manipulate the situation from here on out,” Nat said with a smirk.

Both men look at Nat cautiously, “What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“I might have a plan,” Nat said.

--

You had walked around the city with your bags for hours. Part of you were shocked that Bucky didn’t come running for you immediately, but then you remembered you left everything at the compound so he would have trouble finding you. You look out over the water, thinking of where to go from here.

For the first time since the incident happened, you allowed yourself to cry. You were so sure that Bucky would never hurt you like this. You were so sure that Bucky loved you like she said. You thought you could trust him. But know you know that everything you thought you knew about the man you loved was a flat out lie.

You thought coming back to the city from the compound was good enough, but the amount of memories you have with Bucky here suffocate you. You knew that staying in the city is too close. Plus, you figured eventually Bucky would come running with some fake as apology. You wish you could smack him and his precious Dot right across the face.

How stupid you were to forgive him when you knew how important Dot was to him. I mean he never shut up about her before she miraculously found her way into this century. Why did you think he would just ignore her for you? You were nothing compared to the love of his life. The woman he compared all women to. The one who got to see the charming James Buchanan Barnes in the flesh before his life drastically changed. 

You secretly hope that she doesn’t hurt him when she realizes he is not the same man. If and when she knows of the trauma he has been through, and what he did for so many years. You didn’t care about any of that, but you could see the princess having a problem. 

You shook your head at yourself for caring what happens with them from here on out. “Come on, Y/N! He doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t love or respect you. Forget about him!,” you scold yourself.

You look out at the water and think of where to go from here. You have no family except for the Avengers, and you can’t and won’t go back to compound. You don’t want to reach out to anyone yet, so that Bucky can’t find you. You think for a few minutes before a thought hits you. You knew where to go.

You find yourself heading toward Port Authority Bus Terminal. You were getting on a bus and getting the hell out of here. Once you find yourself settled you would call Nat and Wanda and let them know you are safe. You had gotten a burner phone before leaving in case. They are the only one’s you can trust at the moment. Well maybe Tony also. But everyone else might tell Bucky where you are. And you officially am cutting him from your life for good.

You climb onto the bus and put your bags above you and sit. Once you leave the city Bucky will be nothing but a distant memory. Nothing but a mistake you will learn from. Nothing. As the bus leaves the city you feel a mix of relief and heartbreak. 

Then the burner phone starts to vibrate. No one knew the number so you can’t help but be nervous. You cautiously pick it up and before you can speak you hear your best friend.

“Y/N, don’t hang up,” Nat said.

--

Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

Sorry this chapter kinda sucks and is short. It’s filler mostly, however I think you will like what’s coming. Feedback is appreciated.

Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet

Story Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse @wintrfld @cherries-and-berries @ilovemarvelanne1 @lilli2411 @minty-fiction @peakywitch @blue-mostacho @r0bbieshapiro @uncreativezx @sarahjoestewy-blog @geekanista @imtaashu @vicmc624 @browneyedgirl365 @happinessinthebeing @leyannrae @austynparksandpizza 

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYONE!

[9tzuyu]

a widow’s surprise

prompt: “who wouldn’t be angry? you ate all my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

note: i have no idea what this is i’ll be honest, this was just for funsies and i wanted to see if i could write this prompt. so don’t be too harsh </3

warnings: none :P

ty moli for proofreading <333

🏷 : @c-is-writing @nermalina @wandaromanova @blackxwidowsxwife

. . .

adjusting to life without natasha felt impossible. it took over a year and a half to accept her death. you’d gone through all the other stages of grief, but acceptance was the most difficult to come to terms with.

it’d been three years now, and you still cried on anniversaries, the date of her death being the worst of them.

but you could get through the days, weeks, months. time no longer felt as suffocating as it once did. you no longer carried anger towards sunny days or the presence of someone else’s company.

things were casual. you were out with friends, laughing as you kicked rocks down the pavement. there was no particular destination in mind, but it was nice to feel free for just for a little while before you had work in the morning. the conversation was smooth, there was talk of moving cities and following dreams too far-fetched to even fathom.

before you knew it, you found yourself back inside your car. as you shut your door though, your pocket-sized picture of natasha fell from your sun visor. the action caught you off guard, causing your breath to stick in your throat.

as much as you hated to say it, natasha hadn’t crossed your mind in a little over a month. remembering this triggered a surge of guilt to shock your heart.

you didn’t want to forget her, and that’s what it felt like. how could you do that? and how would natasha feel about it?

with a deep sigh and a clenched jaw, you put your car in reverse and drove yourself home.

you fumbled with your keys as you unlocked the front door. to your surprise however, you were met with a head of bright, red hair twisted into a french braid.

it couldn’t be.

“natasha?”

the familiar-looking woman spun around at the sound of your voice, setting your now empty box of cheerios on the counter.

“hi.”

“you- no, there’s no way!”

“yes baby, it’s me. im here.” natasha moved to step towards you, but you backed away instantly, not missing the flash of hurt reflect in her eyes.

“you’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real! this is some fucked up joke played by the universe. you’re dead. you’ve been dead! this can’t be hap-”

natasha swiftly moved in front of you, cupping your face with her hands. they were gentle, soft to the touch just as you remembered.

“i’m not dead. this is real, i’m really here. i’m sorry i was gone for so long.”

she pulled you in for a hug that you were sure would break you. “oh my god i missed you so, so, so much.”

“i- how?”

“they call me black widow for a reason, baby.”

the excitement in the air quickly died down, your face frowning into realization that she’d been alive the entire three years you’d mourned her.

“why the fuck didn’t you tell me anything?” natasha tilted her head in confusion. “are you angry?”

“who wouldn’t be angry? you ate all my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

the russian crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in faux annoyance. “i can get you a new box of cereal tomorrow morning if it’s that important to you.”

“you’ve got to be kidding me. you’re not- oh my god!” natasha picked you up bridal style mid-sentence, not caring at all how mad you were.

“you can be upset all you want later, or even now, i don’t care. you can scold me all you want, just let me hold you while you do it.” you clung to the back of natasha’s neck, waiting for her to set you down.

and when she did, you found yourself in the bed of your room. you sat up, waiting for natasha to lay down. she already knew what you wanted, and she was happy to comply. her back lay flat against the mattress, arms reaching out to lay you on top of her. it was something you liked to do whenever you were extremely upset and having her hold you from behind wasn’t enough.

your hips laid across the belt of her jeans, hands digging their way underneath natasha as her arms crossed over your spine.

“you’re like a koala,” she mumbled.

“you always say that.” you giggled before pressing a kiss against her cheek. “never, ever do that again natasha, or i’ll… well i don’t know what i’d do, but i wouldn’t be happy.”

“making you happy is the only thing i want to do.”

your grip around the russian tightened, as if you were afraid she’d slip away again. and although you tried to ignore it for the sake of the moment, the overwhelming realization that natasha was back shocked you yet again.

one sniffle and natasha pushed you back. she could tell you were trying to suppress your cries, but she knew it was better to let everything out than to keep it locked in.

“i’m here. it’s okay, you won’t ever lose me again. i’m here – i promise i’m here.” she cooed. the back of her index finger offered a gentle stroke around your face.

you looked down at natasha once more, taking in her appearance. her green eyes were bright, radiating liveliness as they scanned over your body. her lips were pink and full, and her infamous red hair was tangled, strewn across the pillow beneath her head.

“the last time i saw you the ends of your hair were blonde.” natasha grinned, your statement flooding her brain with memories of the night you bleached her hair.

“i cut off what was left when i got bored of it. do you not like my hair the way it is now?” she teased, giving your hips a small squeeze.

“no, no, i love it! red has always been your look. and it’s much softer than the blonde, anyway.” natasha hummed her reply before tugging you back down into her arms.

“let’s just stay like this for a while, yeah?”

“of course natty.”

[harryspet]

off to the races (2) s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, bondage, a hint of peter x reader, toxic/abusive relationship, hella angst, little editing 

A/N: im mentally shutting down because of school but at least i have mob!steve :)

In which you don’t want to be Daddy’s secret anymore.

word count: 3.5k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes​  @disaster-rose​​ @sexyxseabassx​ @marvelmaree​

“Woah, dude, your room is awesome. Awe, you have all the good movies. I haven’t seen The Jungle Book in forever!” 

“Peter, look!” You waved him over to the window, ignoring his astonishment for the paradise Steve had created for you. Peter stood there dumbly for a moment before walking over to the window beside your bed. 

You heard the loud whirring of helicopter spinning blades echoing through the room even with the window closed. It was landing in the field behind the manor and you were questioning why Steve was making such a grand entrance today. You’d been stuck in this house for three weeks now and nothing this exciting had happened yet, “Who’s helicopter is that?” You looked back at Peter who’d crossed his arm nervously. 

“Uhm … probably … maybe-” You scoffed, before looking back at the view. The helicopter was a sleek, black color and, as you narrowed, your eyes could make out some words written in gold. 

“Stuh …. Stark …. Industries. Stark Industries,” You were calm as you took in the info before the realization hit you, “Stark Industries! Is Tony Stark here? Holy …. pancakes.”

Peter smiled, seemingly amused by your excitement, “Pancakes?”

“Steve doesn’t like it when I-” You stopped yourself from explaining, realizing there was a bigger situation at hand, “We have to go check things out. Get a closer look!”

“No way,” Peter shook his head, “I’m here to make sure you stay in this room.”

You rolled your eyes, “So Tony Stark must be here then, right?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Peter pressed his lips together like he was struggling to hold in all the secrets he knew. 

“How the hell does Steve know Tony Stark? Stark is dirty too? I should’ve known … flipping rich people.”

“Flipping?”

You took a step toward him and despite the fact you were wearing a pair of fairy wings, he still seemed intimidated by you, “What do you want, huh? A raise?”

“Uhm … I don’t think you can do that … can you?”

“Of course I can. Steve is wrapped around my finger.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, “But he’s Steve Rogers …”

“Look around this room for goodness sake! He does anything I want. If I tell him all about how you’re a great worker, how you’re a good friend to me, he’ll surely be appreciative. Might even give you a promotion and maybe you won't have to play babysitter anymore.”

He considers it just for a moment, “If he does anything you want then why are you locked in this house?”

“Fine, fine, so I don’t have complete control but I have some. I could be helpful to you in the future!” 

“Y/N, if something went wrong he’d probably chop me up into little pieces and send them to my Aunt. Or he’d chop up my aunt and make me watch … depends on the kinda mood he’s in.”

You stared back at him, trying not to let the look on your face falter, “ … I’ll give you my movie collection?” 

“I’m sorry but-”

“It’s my birthday soon?”

“I can’t,” Peter stated, sighing, “I’ve got pressure on me right now, and things have to go right tonight. It’s like a huge deal. I never get to go to stuff and the party is-” He stopped his rambling when he realized he’d said too much. 

“Party?” Peter opened his mouth and closed it again. He turned away from you, eyes wide, and made his way to the door. Of course, you chased after him, placing yourself between him and the door, “What party?”

“Please move,” Peter begged, “I really can’t talk about it.”

“I won’t say anything, I promise!” You were the one begging now, “He doesn’t tell me anything at all. Can you imagine how I’m feeling? I’ll do everything you say, I won’t try anything, I just want to know what's going on …. please?”

“Steve can’t know,” You nodded eagerly and he finally gave in, probably because of your spectacular puppy dog eyes, “Tony Stark is having a party tonight, that’s where Steve’s going, and most of us are going to. A pretty important deal is happening.”

“Why doesn’t Steve want me to go?” You frowned a bit.

“I don’t think he wants anybody to know about you, to keep you safe, that kind of thing.”

“Right,” You nodded, “Even if I go crazy while he does that.”

Peter looked sympathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“I know this thing with me and Steve is not ordinary but is it crazy of me to not want to be a secret? Even after everything …”

You could tell Peter wasn’t expecting a deep question nor did he expect you’d confide in him, “I don’t think so,” Peter was trying to understand, you could see it in his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck as if he wasn’t sure, “Obviously … you - uhm - care about him. I wouldn’t want to be the secret of someone I care about.”

He was taken aback when you suddenly hugged him. Unsure if he could hug you back, he awkwardly patted your shoulder which made you giggle, “Can I paint your nails?”

“What? No.”

“I have colors that aren’t girly.” “Hmm … can you do cool stuff like the shapes and sparkles?”

“Of course,” You smiled, “Step into my salon.”

+

“I didn’t get my sticker this week,” You bounced back from your toes to your heels, watching Steve as he got ready in his closet. He was fixing his tie in the mirror, making sure it was absolutely perfect, along with the rest of the look. Freshly trimmed beard and an aftershave that smells intoxicating. He smelt like money and looked like it too. That’s probably exactly how you would want to look in front of Tony Stark. 

“You skipped dinner two days in a row, doll.”

You were frowning but it wasn’t like he was focused on you anyways, “But I did better after that,” You whined.

“I know, baby, you can try again next week.”

“Maybe if you were here then I wouldn’t have missed it,” You whispered, playing with your fingernails, “But I’m stuck here and you get to go out and have your fun.”

“Have my fun?” He questioned, buttoning up his jacket. 

“You get home so late … I’m sure you go to your clubs, booze it up and talk to girls.”

He chuckled a bit, “You think I’m flirting with other women?”

“I don’t think, I know,” You leaned against the doorway, “You’re a guy, aren’t you? That’s what you do.”

He finally turned to you, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was as handsome as ever, like a movie star, “Doll, my days are long because I’m traveling from here to the city every day. I want to fall asleep and wake up with you. There isn’t and never will be anyone who I’d rather do that with.” 

As he came closer, you knew he was going to lift you into his arms. Ever since he took you from the club and you sobbed into his shoulders, you��d find solace in his arms. Even if his hands were causing your hurting, they still felt warm and loving, “You don’t mean that,” You whispered, muffled against his shoulder. 

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“Take me with you,” You said and you felt him stiffen. 

“It’s not safe,” He tried to explain. 

“Are you embarrassed by me?” 

“No, no,” He rushed out, carrying you out of the closet and into the bedroom. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because of what I do, what I used to do-”

“No, Y/N. I’ve never felt that way,” His tone was more concerned that it ever had been before, “Look at me, please?”

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head. You hated that you were feeling jealous or inadequate, “You took care of yourself all these years and I know you still can,” He continued, “Let me protect you now.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Steve could sense the small bit of pride still left in you and decided not to push you on it anymore, “Could’ve fooled me,” Steve smiled slightly, bouncing you in his arms, “Let me tuck you in, grumpy.”

“The sun just set!” 

“It wasn’t actually a request,” He was already carrying you away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” You resisted, “Can I sleep in here? I’ll go to sleep right away, I promise.”Steve stopped, thinking it over for a moment, “I like that the … sheets smell like you, Daddy,” You added, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t fully a lie but you had other motives for not wanting to go back to your room. For one, your room locked from the outside and his didn’t. Besides that, you were almost sure that one of your stuffed bears had a camera inside its eye. 

Steve tucked you into his california king-sized bed that night and watched you fall asleep until it was time for him to go. You felt the kiss he pressed to your forehead and, for a brief moment, you thought about changing your plans. 

That feeling didn’t last long. 

+

For such an expensive car, you thought your ride would be a lot smoother and much more comfortable. Turns out, hiding in any trunk, no matter how luxurious, behind big boxes of unknown items, was not a pleasant experience. An hour into the drive, you finally decided that you’d had enough and you needed to get the feeling back into your limbs. Besides that, you needed to check and make sure that your hair and makeup stayed in place. 

When you climbed over the seat from the trunk to the backseat, the car instantly swerved before the driver corrected its path, “Y/N, holy shit!” Peter shouted, obviously frightened out of his mind but you were focused on making sure all the layers of your dress made it safely back into their places, “What the fuck? What the actual fuck?”

“Oh, calm down,” You said, looking at him through the rearview, “Just keep driving.”

“Are you out of your mind? If Steve sees you he’s going flip his shit!” 

“Peter, you okay in there, kid?” You heard Bucky’s staticky voice over Peter’s radio. The younger man picked it up and answered, his eyes still focused on you. 

You placed a finger over your lips and Peter gave you a death stare, “Yeah, I’m fine … I thought I saw a squirrel.”

A caravan of three cars surrounded Steve’s car as they all drove down this dark, winding road that you assumed would lead to Tony Stark’s mansion, “Did you not comprehend a single word I said?” Peter shouted, “Do you want me to get killed?”

“This is my problem,” You said, “Steve will know that you had nothing to do with it, I promise. But tonight is going to go super well so it won’t even matter. Steve is going to see me and realize he’s crazy not to show me off and then we’re going to go to the party and I’m going to charm everyone with my personality which is going to make him a ton of friends and even more money. Everyone wins.”

Peter was shaking his head the entire time as he listened to your rambling,  “Y/N, I understand that you want to be more to Steve and you don’t want to be in the dark but this isn’t the way! This isn’t some charity event or some art gala, these are dangerous people.”

“But Tony Stark-”

“Is as dirty as it gets,” Your heart began to race a bit, “And Steve cannot just let everyone know his biggest weakness, even if they are his allies.”

His biggest weakness. 

Suddenly, your mind was racing with thoughts of moments with Steve. Meeting him, going on your first dates, the hotel meetings, and the passionate kisses that always left you feeling like he felt more about you than he admitted. You never saw yourself as his weakness. 

I want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. 

When you snapped out of your trance, Peter had his walkie-talkie pressed to his chin, “Guys, uhm, we have a stowaway,” You slumped back in your seat, and when the car eventually came to a stop, you wished you were still tucked away in Steve’s bed. You think Peter was calling your name, probably apologizing and telling you how he had to follow orders but, honestly, you had tuned him out, “I-I don’t know …. I thought I checked everything …”

Your dress was adorable too, covered in pastels, while still remaining elegant. You imagined Steve's heart with flutter at the sight of you, instead, he was fuming. He was always so stoic, so full of composure, that the change frightened you. He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you from the backseat, and slamming the door shut. Pressed against the car, you looked into those blue-green eyes that were anything except nice. 

“I didn’t mean to for all this,” Was all you could muster up the courage to say, “I just wanted to come with you-”

He shushed you before you got your words out, “We’ll talk about it later.”

You wished he would just yell at you now. He could bend you over right now and you’d prefer that over his silence and the obvious disappointment in his tone, “Later? But-” He pulled you away from the car and you stumbled in your heels as he pulled you along the dark road. 

He brought you towards the last car in the caravan and Sam stepped out from behind it, closing the trunk, before handing something shiny to Steve, “What are you doing?” You asked shakily, the cold wind of the night blowing your dress. 

“Turn around, face the car,” He ordered you and you feared whatever punishment you were about to receive would be worse if you disobeyed him. Slowly, you turned around and he wasted no time grabbing your wrist. You heard the metal click of handcuffs as they tightened around your wrist. You felt his strong hands on your waist and, as he lifted your dress, you assumed the worst. Your panties slipped down and as Steve lowered himself with them. 

“Steve, please talk to me?”

To your surprise, as you stepped out of your underwear, you felt the click of metal around your ankles. When he stood back up, he grabbed your arm again, pulling you back so you were pressed against his chest, “Daddy will deal with you later,” His breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine, “Don’t worry, doll … open your mouth.”

“If you just let me explain-”

You weren’t sure why you even wanted to. He left your brain scrambled and wondering why you even did the things that you did. 

“I won’t ask you again.”

Your lips parted and you realized he was forcing your panties into your mouth. The next thing that you knew, you were lying in the back seat of that car, your wrist hogtied to your ankles. And you thought sitting in the trunk would be uncomfortable. You were struggling and calling out for him and, as you expected, you were ignored. 

“Get her back as fast as you can. I’ll keep things short with Stark,” Were the last words you heard before the door shut close and all your screaming was muffled. 

+

You weren’t sure at which point you’d fallen asleep. As you laid there tied up, you thought a lot about him since there was nothing else to think about. You weren’t sure how he could love you and be so cruel at the same time.  

That next morning, you awoke to sore limbs and makeup staining your pillow. Even though the car ride back was hell, you knew your punishment wasn’t over. You debated even getting out of bed, knowing what was to come. 

You finally mustered the energy to clean yourself up, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. When you stepped back into your room, you were taken aback by what was sitting in the middle of your room. A giant, life-size brown bear was happily perched before your bed, holding balloons and a Tiffany’s gift bag. 

It was exactly the opposite of what you were expecting today. You approached it cautiously, decided to sit and open up the present. You handled the bag carefully, finding an elegant white card sitting inside. 

For my favorite girl on her birthday.

Love, Daddy. 

You sighed, knowing he probably picked all of this out before you betrayed him and probably ruined any sort of trust he had between you. You hadn’t even realized it was your birthday which was probably due to the fact that you had no phone or any contact with the outside world. There was also a jewelry box inside, a gorgeous, rose-gold tennis bracelet inside. 

As you snapped it around your wrist, covering your bruises, you promised not to ask how much it cost. It would probably make you feel even worse about yesterday. 

You finished getting dressed, deciding to head downstairs for breakfast. You found Steve sitting at a table out by the pool, reading through a newspaper like a grandpa. It seemed like he was expecting you because there were pancakes and eggs waiting on the table, “Morning,” You greeted awkwardly. 

“Good morning, doll. Happy Birthday,” He responded, his eyes still focused on the newspaper. 

“Thanks,” Taking a seat in front of him, you instantly moved to grab the syrup, but the rings on his finger caught your attention. Below, you could see his knuckles were red and purple, bruised like he’d been punching something … or someone. “Your hands …” 

He folded his newspaper, taking a look at them himself. It didn’t seem to faze him as he folded them on his stomach, leaning back in his chair, “Your wrist,” He changed the subject and you wondered if he was amused by the fear in your eyes, “Do you like my gift?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful, I love it … thank you,” Your mind was elsewhere, “What happened to your hands? Is that from last night?”

“Last night is a blur. I was so angry after your little stunt, I had to have a few drinks to even get through the rest of the night.”

“Really?” You tried to hold in your scoff, “You seem very chipper today.”

“Only because I get to see your beautiful face,” He countered, smirking. 

Your eyes narrowed at him, “What did you do?”

“That’s a broad question-”

“Did you hurt him?”

“Him?” Steve raised an eyebrow, “You mean Peter? I thought about it … I’m still thinking about it actually. If he was smarter, yesterday would have never happened but you must’ve been pretty convincing. Poor kid, he probably thought you liked him.”

“None of it was his fault! I-I was just being stupid, I was using him and he was just trying to be a good guy. Steve, please.”

“If I did, you would probably start to actually listen. You’d never try one of those crazy stunts ever again-”

“I will listen! No more stunts, I’ll be an angel from now on,” You stood up from your chair, moving around the table, “I know you’re just trying to protect me. Peter tried to tell me that and I should’ve listened.” You grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“That’s all I want,” He added sincerely and you nodded. 

“I’ll pinky promise,” With your other hand, you held out your pinky. You thought Peter would be your way out but, here you were, begging to stay in order to keep him alive. Your pinkies wrapped around each other and you climbed into his lap. You kissed the sides of his mouth before kissing his lips. 

“Soon, we’ll take a trip together, I know you’re itching to get away.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You kissed his lips again, “Your hands … what actually happened?”

“Punching bag,” He easily explained although you were expecting a tale of horror. Holding his hand, you brought his fist to your lips, kissing them gently, “That probably wouldn’t have happened a year ago … I think you make me more gentle.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? Turning a beast into a prince.”

“For some reason, I have faith in you.”

+

“Peter!” You perked up as soon as he entered the living room, not realizing how grateful to see that he was still in one piece. Sam, Bucky, and Steve seemed to exchange confused glances from their places on the couch. 

Peter seemed baffled as well, “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, we’re about to watch Coco. Wanna join?”

“There’s popcorn,” Sam added, stuffing his face.

“And cookies,” Bucky chimed in. 

Peter smiled, unsure, as he looked to Steve for permission, “Join us, son.”

“Awesome,” Peter clapped, making his way over to the couch, “This one always makes me cry.”

“Y/N, I thought you said this one wasn’t sad,” Bucky eyed you. You shrugged, snuggling yourself further into Steve’s side. You tried to hide a mischievous smile and act like you weren’t hoping to see three grown men tear up from a Disney movie. 

“Okay, press play,” You tapped Steve’s chest and he raised the remote. 

“Wait,” Steve paused, “Are all three of your nails painted?”

+

i’m thinking maybe i’ll make a christmas themed part 3, we shall see :)

[cerealkills]

𝐣𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐤𝐮𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 "𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲"

☆watching the night sky with jotaro kujo☆ (pre - trip to egypt) ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ cw: swearing, smoking ☆let’s begin!☆

☆You and Jotaro had been friends since 3rd grade. You’d known him since he was just a little boy, because your mom was friends with his. He was always the sweet, kind, tall awkward boy when he was little, he was bright, and you saw a future in his eyes. But now, he’s a 17 year old delinquent who treats his mom like shit. You still loved him of course, but his sweet side was harder to find under the surface.  You and Jotaro had made plans to go and watch the sky at night. He said it was stupid and “Fucking ridiculous” but he couldn’t say no to you. You had packed a bag with some water, snacks, a telescope you had lying around since you did this every weekend, and a blanket you guys could sit on. You dressed comfortably that night, just a baggy shirt and some comfortable jeans you had lying around. You grabbed the bag and ran out the door, saying bye to your mother. The second you stepped out you were hit with a blast of cold air. Right- It had completely slipped your mind that it got pretty cold at night. Whatever- you were almost late to meet him so you just ran over to the meeting spot, which was an abandoned field you always went stargazing at. Once you had made it there, you set up the blanket and put your bag down as you waited for him. You sat there for about 5 minutes until you saw a tall figure walking towards you. It was Jotaro! “Hey, Jotaro!” You said, in excitement. You loved his company, even if he was a bit mean. Truth was, you had a crush on him since the 6th grade, and you were gonna tell him tonight. “Hey.” He said as he sat down next to you on the blanket. “What the hell are we doing here again? It’s fucking freezing out here. Why are you in a T-Shirt?” He asked in a monotone voice as he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. “I forgot a jacket- It’s fine though- I like the cold.” You said as you shuddered a bit at a gust of wind hitting your face. “Sure. Good grief, just take my jacket you dumbass. Don’t forget your jacket next time, god damn it.” He said as he threw his jacket at you while he exhaled a puff of smoke. You grabbed his jacket and put it on, the smell of cologne and smoke hitting your nose instantly. “Thanks, Jotaro. Anyways- The sun should be done setting any time now. We should be able to see some stars in the sky since we don’t live in the big city.” He groaned as he laid back, plopping his body down in the soft grass. “This is so boring.” “I promise it gets better. If we get lucky, we might be able to see some constellations!” You said as you laid next to him. “While we wait- I- I really need to tell you something.” You asked, your heart racing so fast it felt like it was gonna leap out of your chest. “What’s up, Y/N?” He asked in that monotone voice of his, staring at you with those piercing eyes. “I-.. I have feelings for you- Like- Romantic ones.. I’ve had them for you for a long time and- If you don’t feel the same we could still be friends-” “Shut up. Stop rambling. Listen, I like you too, but you really need to get your shit together.” He said with a small chuckle as he exhaled a puff of smoke afterward, putting out the cigarette.  “So.. You’re my boyfriend now?” You asked as you shuffled a bit closer to him. “Yeah. I guess so.” He said in response, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “I love you, Jotaro.” “I love you too, Y/N.” Despite how cheesy it was, you guys chatted and stargazed until the late hours of the night. You and your new boyfriend had parted ways at around 12 am. “Night, Y/N. I’ll let you keep my jacket but you better give it back. That was 20,000 yen right there.” “I promise! Good night, Jotaro.” You shouted as you guys walked away. You had a blast with him, you’d never loved a guy so much. ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ written by hierophant--greenn on tumblr. sorry if it was kinda bad or cheesy or short aghhhh im kinda bad at fanfics :’) ily guys! have a good night/day <333 ☆

[sukirichi]

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

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[mrs-gucci]

Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea​ thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie​ @gotham-city-uber-driver​ @gildedstarlight​ @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ @icarusinthesea​ @lumdelacour​ @readingreaver​ @eagerforhoney​ @trubluepensfan​ @beachwoodmonet​ if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center. 

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic. 

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper. 

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake. 

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips. 

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”