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gyuuberryy · 1 month ago

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right next door!

pairing: enemy!sunghoon x reader

synopsis: you and park sunghoon have been tangled in hogwarts' most explosive rivalry since fifth year—all duels in corridors and sabotaged potions and lingering stares across the great hall. now in your last year, you're forced to share prefect duties, and between his infuriating teasing and surprisingly caring moments, you can't decide if you want to hex him or kiss him. but when old wounds resurface and the line between rivalry and something else blurs, you'll have to confront why his attention still makes your pulse race—and whether some bridges are better left burned.

genre: hogwarts au, ex friends to enemies to lovers, forced proximity

warnings: highly suggestive content!!, a steamy pool scene, sunghoon gets called an exhibtionist as a joke, mentions of blood status, jealousy, swearing, lots of hogwarts lore references, angst

note: lowkey got inspired to write this after reading deadly education but ended up making it spicy lol. also i haven't specifically mentioned which hogwarts houses the reader and hoon are in since you guys must be different houses so yeah. enjoyyy

word count: 8.1k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the parchment trembled slightly in your grip, the edges crinkling under your fingertips as you stared at the freshly inked letters spelling out your name beside the words girl prefect. your breath caught—just for a second—before a giddy warmth spread through your chest. you could’ve sworn your feet barely grazed the stone floor as you made your way to the front of the classroom.

this was it.

all those late nights hunched over textbooks in the library until your eyes burned. every extra credit assignment you’d taken on, every house point you’d fought for. the way you’d practiced spells until your wrists ached, all for this moment—the recognition you’d craved, the proof that your effort hadn’t gone unnoticed.

then the head of house cleared their throat.

“—and your fellow prefect will be park sunghoon.”

the air left your lungs in one sharp exhale.

your head whipped toward him instinctively, muscle memory from years of tracking his movements, and just like always—just like always—he was already looking at you. his lips twitched, not quite a smirk but something dangerously close, his dark eyes alight with amusement.

of course.

of course it had to be him. the universe had a cruel sense of humor.

the head of house folded their hands atop the desk, surveying the two of you with the weary patience of someone who had long since grown tired of your antics. “i trust,” they said slowly, “that this appointment will encourage you both to set aside your… differences and act with the decorum expected of prefects.” their gaze flicked between you, pointed. “no duels in the corridors. no jinxes in the common room. and for merlin’s sake, no more sabotaging each other’s potions.”

sunghoon’s expression was the picture of innocence. “i would never.”

you barely suppressed a scoff. liar.

the moment you were dismissed, you spun on your heel, determined to escape before he could so much as open his mouth. but sunghoon, with his long legs caught up and fell into step beside you with infuriating ease, his shoulder brushing yours just enough to make you stiffen.

“looks like we’re stuck with each other, sweetheart,” he mused, voice dripping with false sweetness.

you clenched your jaw. “don’t call me that.”

“what, would you prefer partner?” he grinned when you shot him a glare, the torchlight catching the sharp curve of his cheekbones.

“oh, come on. admit it—you’re thrilled. all those patrols together, just you and me.” he leaned in just slightly, and you hated the way your pulse jumped. “bet you’ve been dreaming about it.”

“dreaming of hexing you into next week, maybe.”

he laughed, low and taunting, and you hated the way it sent a prickle down your spine—the way it still did, even after all this time. “you’d miss me too much.”

“in your dreams, park.”

“already there.” he winked.

you stopped short, turning to face him fully. the corridor was empty save for the two of you, the flickering torchlight casting shadows across his sharp features that made him look almost otherworldly.

“listen,” you hissed, “just because we’re prefects now doesn’t mean i’ve forgotten what you did last term. or the term before that. or—”

“you’re really holding onto that?” he tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched at his side—like he was stopping himself from reaching for something.

“i’d say it’s flattering, but it’s starting to sound like an obsession.”

your fingers twitched toward your wand. “i swear, if you don’t—”

“ah-ah.” he tutted, nodding pointedly to the enchanted portraits lining the walls—several of whom had paused their conversations to watch the spectacle. “decorum, remember?” his voice dropped, just for you. “wouldn’t want to disappoint the head of house on our first day.”

you forced your hand to relax, but the fire in your chest refused to die. this wasn’t just about rivalry. this was about the way he’d looked right through you fifth year, like you were nothing. like you’d never been anything.

“this isn’t over,” you muttered.

sunghoon’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “oh, i’m counting on it.”

and with that, he strolled past you, robes swishing behind him like a victory banner. you stared after him, torn between the urge to scream and the sinking realisation that this year was going to be very long.

but if he thought for one second you’d let him win?

he had another thing coming.

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

the moment you stepped into the prefects’ wing, the air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against your skin like a warning. this part of the common room was unnervingly quiet—separated from the usual chaos by an ornate archway woven with enchanted ivy that shivered as you passed. two doors faced each other in the dim torchlight, close enough that you could’ve stretched out your arms and touched both at once.

yours. and—

“no.”

sunghoon’s voice curled around you from behind, rich with amusement. “yes.”

you didn’t need to turn to see his expression—you knew it by heart. that lazy, lopsided grin, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners just before he delivered some infuriating remark. your fingers twitched toward your wand, but you clenched them into fists instead, nails biting crescents into your palms.

the door in front of you seemed to taunt you with its very existence.

“this is a joke,” you muttered.

“a hilarious one,” he agreed, brushing past so close his sleeve whispered against yours. he leaned against his doorframe with practiced ease, the flickering torchlight carving shadows under his cheekbones, gilding the curve of his smirk.

“aw, don’t look so heartbroken, princess. could’ve been worse,” his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “you could’ve been stuck next to someone boring.”

you shot him a look that could’ve melted steel. “right. because you’re a delight.”

he pressed a hand to his chest—the same way he used to when you’d accuse him of cheating at exploding snap—and the familiarity of the gesture lodged like a splinter in your throat. “i’m wounded. after all these years, you still don’t appreciate my charm?”

“your charm,” you spat, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered, “is what got us here in the first place.”

the silence that followed was deafening.

for one fractured second, his mask slipped—just enough for you to catch the flicker in his eyes, the barely-there tightening of his jaw. but it was gone before you could name it, smoothed over with a careless shrug that didn’t match the sudden tension in his shoulders.

you remembered when those shoulders had carried your unconscious first-year self to the hospital wing after your disastrous attempt at flying. remembered how they'd shaken with silent laughter during history of magic when you'd charmed his quill to draw rude pictures on his parchment. remembered most painfully how they'd turned away from you in fifth year, when he'd started sitting with them—the polished, pureblooded group who whispered about blood status in the corridors.

it had started small. skipped study sessions. forgotten inside jokes. then one day you'd walked into the great hall to find your usual seat by the window—your seat, the one he'd saved for you every morning since first year—occupied by some simpering girl from his new circle.

when you'd cornered him after potions, demanding to know what his problem was, he'd just shrugged. "people change." like it was that simple. like four years of friendship meant nothing.

so you'd made sure he remembered.

if he wanted to pretend you didn't exist, you'd force him to notice you. you charmed his robes neon pink during presentations. swapped his pumpkin juice with vinegar. turned all his quills into snakes during arithmancy. each prank was a scream into the void: look at me, see me, remember what you threw away.

now, standing in the dimly lit corridor, the weight of those memories pressed between you like a third presence. sunghoon recovered faster than you did, his smirk sliding back into place with practiced ease.

"still holding onto ancient history, i see," he mused, pushing off the doorframe to take a step closer. the movement brought him into your space, close enough that you caught the faint scent of cedar and ink that still haunted your dreams. "what's next? you gonna charm my shoes to stick to the floor like third year? or—"

"that was you," you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended. the accusation hung between you, trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. you did this first. you started this war.

his eyebrow quirked. "and you turned all my quills into snakes during arithmancy."

"after you vanished my potions textbook the week before NEWTs!"

"allegedly."

"you left my handwriting on a fake love note to flitwick in the margins!"

he grinned, wide and unrepentant, and it was so familiar that your chest ached. "allegedly."

you turned back to your door before he could see how his smile still affected you, how your traitorous heart still stuttered at the sight. but sunghoon, ever relentless, wasn't finished.

"you know," he said, his voice dropping into something softer, more intimate—the tone he used to reserve for midnight confessions and hidden corners, "if you wanted my attention this badly, you could've just asked."

your hand froze on the doorknob.

for one suspended heartbeat, the air between you crackled with the ghost of what you'd once been—two halves of a reckless, unbreakable whole. you could almost feel the warmth of his shoulder pressed against yours in the library, the way he'd whisper jokes into your ear until you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

then reality came crashing back.

"keep dreaming, park," you scoffed, shoving the door open with more force than necessary.

his laughter followed you inside, warm and melodic and wrong—because it wasn't yours to keep anymore. "already do," he called after you.

you slammed the door behind you, pressing your back against it as if it could shield you from the way your pulse raced, from the way your eyes burned with something dangerously close to tears. outside, you heard his footsteps pause, followed by the sound of his door gently slamming shut

your chest ached.

this year was going to be hell.

it becomes a thing after that.

you start bumping into sunghoon at the worst possible times—as if the universe has decided your suffering is its favourite spectator sport. like when you drag yourself into the hallway at 2 am, bleary-eyed and half-dead from studying, your vision swimming from hours of staring at ancient runes, only to collide with something warm and solid.

"oof—"

the scent hits you first—cedar and something faintly sweet, like the peppermint candies he always used to sneak during classes. your sleep-addled brain recognizes it before your eyes do, and your stomach does a traitorous little flip.

sunghoon steadies you with hands on your shoulders, his own hair sticking up in three different directions, dark strands falling into his eyes. he's wearing what might be the most ridiculous sleepwear you've ever seen—flannel pants with little animated broomsticks that actually move, hanging low on his hips, and a threadbare quidditch jersey that's definitely two sizes too big, slipping off one shoulder to reveal a sliver of collarbone.

you blink.

he blinks back.

for one horrifying second, you're both frozen there in the dim torchlight, his fingers warm through the thin fabric of your oversized hoodie (the one with the cartoon snitch that says "catch me if you can"—a gift from your friend jungwon that you'd never admit to owning).

then his gaze drops to your feet.

and he snorts.

"please tell me those were a gift," he says, pointing at your slippers—fluffy monstrosities shaped like kneazles, complete with little ears that flop when you shift your weight. one ear has started to curl inward from wear. "tell me you didn't willingly purchase those."

you flip him off, shuffling past with as much dignity as you can muster when your slippers make a soft mrrp noise against the stone floor.

"they're warm," you mutter.

"they're embarrassing."

"says the guy wearing pyjamas with his dancing broomsticks on them."

you don't even have to look back to know he's grinning. you can hear it in his voice. "you noticed? i'm flattered."

your cheeks burn. damn him.

he starts stealing your favourite study spot, too.

the one by the window in the common room—the table with the perfect view of the lake, where the afternoon light turns the water to liquid gold and the old oak table bears the carved initials you'd put there fourth year (SH + Y/N, hidden under the edge where only you'd know to look). you've claimed it for years, and everyone knows it.

which is exactly why sunghoon's sitting there when you walk in one evening, already sprawled across the bench like he owns it, twirling his wand between his fingers with lazy precision. the dying sunlight catches on the silver rings he always wears, making them gleam.

you stop dead.

"wow," you deadpan. "you work fast."

he doesn't even glance up from his parchment, but you see the way his lips quirk. "what can i say? early bird gets the view." he finally looks up, and the smirk he gives you is all sharp edges and challenge. "maybe you should try being less predictable."

you consider setting his notes on fire.

instead, you take the table next to his—the wobbly one that always tilts your inkwell—and pointedly ignore the way his knee brushes yours under the table when he stretches.

(he definitely does it on purpose.)

(you definitely don't think about how his legs have gotten longer since fifth year.)

but the worst is the patrols.

being forced to walk the castle's quiet, echoing corridors together—where every footstep sounds too loud, every breath feels too close.

tonight, he's holding his wand aloft like some kind of dramatic victorian ghost hunter, the lumos glow casting long shadows across his sharp cheekbones, catching on the silver hoop in his left ear.

you roll your eyes. "bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"sorry for not having bat vision like you."

"maybe if you didn't spend all your time preening in mirrors—"

you don't even see the uneven step.

one second, you're scoffing at him—the next, your foot catches on a raised stone, and you're lurching forward with a startled gasp, your wand flying from your grip.

but before you can faceplant into the cold stone floor, his hand shoots out, gripping your elbow and yanking you back upright with surprising gentleness. your chest collides with his, and for one terrifying, electric second, you're right there—close enough to see the flecks of silver in his dark eyes, close enough to count his eyelashes, close enough to feel his breath hitch against your lips.

neither of you moves.

his fingers are still wrapped around your arm, warm and firm, and you hate how familiar it feels. how right. how easy it would be to lean in, to—

then he clears his throat and lets go like you've burned him, taking a deliberate step back.

"watch your step," he mutters, already turning away to gather your scattered notes.

you don't miss the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tremble just slightly as he hands your wand back.

the rest of the patrol is silent, but everything left unsaid makes the air between you suffocating.

you pushed open the heavy oak door to the prefects’ bathroom, steam curling around your ankles as you stepped inside. the massive sunken tub glimmered under floating enchanted candles, their reflections dancing across the marble walls. and it seems that no other prefect from the other houses were here.

perfect—just what you needed after a gruelling day of school.

then you heard the water splash.

sunghoon stood waist-deep in the pool, his back to you as he peeled off his soaked white t-shirt. water sluiced down the defined muscles of his shoulders, tracing the elegant dip of his spine before disappearing beneath the waterline. the dim candlelight gilded every curve of his toned arms as he tossed the shirt aside with a wet smack against the tiles.

your brain short-circuited.

he turned at the sound of your choked gasp, water dripping from his dark hair. for one horrifying second, his eyes locked onto yours—wide, startled—before his lips curled into that infuriating smirk.

"enjoying the view, sweetheart?"

you whirled around so fast you nearly tripped over your own robes. "this is a shared space, you—you exhibitionist!"

his laugh echoed off the marble. "shared, yes. which means knocking is customary." you could hear the grin in his voice. "unless you were hoping to catch me like this?"

"i'd rather catch dragon pox!" you fumbled for the door handle, cheeks burning.

"liar," he called after you. the splash of water told you he'd leaned back, completely at ease. "you stared for a solid five seconds."

you slammed the door hard enough to rattle the torches in their sconces.

…

"five seconds?" sunoo nearly spat out his pumpkin juice, eyes sparkling with mischief. across the table, jungwon choked on a laugh, thumping his chest.

you stabbed your fork into a roasted potato with unnecessary force. "i did not stare."

"sure," jungwon drawled, stealing a roll from your plate. "and i'm the minister of magic."

sunoo leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "you two need to either fuck or duel already. the sexual tension is giving me hives."

"sunoo!" you kicked him under the table, but your traitorous gaze flickered across the hall before you could stop it.

sunghoon sat with his usual group, idly stirring his soup. as if sensing your stare, he glanced up—and winked. the bastard had the audacity to mouth "five seconds" before his friends noticed and started elbowing him.

you dropped your forehead onto the table with a groan.

you should’ve known the universe had it out for you.

the thought pounded in time with your footsteps as you stomped toward the forbidden forest, the cold night air biting at your exposed skin.

of course this would happen on the one night you actually planned to sleep before dawn.

of course it was a group of reckless first-years from your house who decided to wander off here.

and of course—because fate had never once been kind to you—sunghoon was the one marching beside you, his shoulder brushing yours every few steps like some cruel reminder of how things used to be.

"this is your fault," you muttered, more out of habit than anything else.

his sigh was barely audible over the crunch of leaves underfoot. "how, exactly?"

"you gave them detention for the dungbomb incident. this is clearly revenge."

"ah yes, because children are famously logical creatures who plan elaborate revenge schemes." his voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was no real heat behind it. just exhaustion. it threw you off—this version of sunghoon who didn't rise to your bait like he used to.

you risked a glance at his profile in the moonlight. the sharp line of his jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always got when he was thinking too hard. you hated that you still noticed these things. hated that after all this time, you could still read him like a book you'd memorised but pretended not to care about.

the forest loomed ahead, darker than the sky around it. a shiver ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"we'll split up," you said abruptly. "cover more ground."

"no." the word came out sharp, surprising you both. he cleared his throat. "it's... not safe. we stick together."

there was something in his voice you couldn't place—something that made your chest ache in a way you refused to examine. so you just nodded, stepping into the treeline beside him, close enough that your sleeves brushed. neither of you moved away.

the forest was wrong tonight.

usually alive with rustling leaves and distant animal calls, now it was eerily silent, like the trees themselves were holding their breath. your own breathing sounded too loud in your ears, your heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"this is stupid," you muttered, just to break the silence. "what kind of idiots think wandering into the murder forest at midnight is a good idea?"

next to you, sunghoon huffed a quiet laugh. "the same kind that think turning their rival's hair pink right before a quidditch match is a solid life choice."

the unexpected callback to simpler times caught you off guard. warmth bloomed in your chest before you could stop it, quickly smothered by years of built-up resentment.

"that was one time—"

"and the time you swapped my pumpkin juice with vinegar—"

"you deserved that—"

"and the time you definitely stared at me in the prefect's bathroom for five full seconds—"

something inside you snapped.

"oh my god, are you serious right now?" you whirled on him so fast he actually took a step back. your wandlight threw wild shadows across his face, illuminating the startled widening of his eyes. "you're really gonna act like i started all this? like you weren't the one who—"

your voice cracked traitorously. you hated it. hated the way his expression shifted from amused to concerned in an instant. hated how your eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears.

sunghoon went completely still. "who what?" he asked quietly.

the words tore out of you like a dam breaking:

"who ditched me the second you found a shinier group of friends!"

the silence that followed was deafening.

sunghoon looked like you'd struck him. his mouth opened, closed. for the first time since you'd known him, park sunghoon seemed at a complete loss for words.

you didn't wait for him to find them. turning on your heel, you stormed deeper into the forest, your pulse roaring in your ears. you made it three steps before you heard him move behind you—quick, urgent footsteps—and then his hand was wrapping around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"wait—"

a shrill voice cut through the trees before he could continue.

"oh thank merlin!"

the first-years.

sunghoon's grip loosened immediately, but his fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary before falling away. the ghost of his touch burned long after he'd turned toward the sound.

the walk back was torture.

the kids shuffled ahead of you, sniffling and covered in mud and leaves, while you and sunghoon trailed behind in suffocating silence. your mind raced, replaying the moment over and over—the look on his face when you said those words, the way his hand felt around your wrist.

at one point, he moved closer, his shoulder brushing yours. "we should—" he started, voice low.

you sped up, pretending to adjust the scarf of a trembling first-year. you didn’t wand to do this now.

by the time you reached the common room, your jaw ached from clenching it. you handed out detentions on autopilot ("no, you cannot serve it together, yes, you're lucky we're not telling the head of house"), your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

the second the kids scurried off, you bolted for your room, desperate for space to breathe, to think—

—only for a hand to catch the door before you could slam it shut.

suddenly, you were being yanked into his room.

"what the hell—"

"i didn't ditch you."

his voice was rough, raw in a way you'd never heard before. his grip on your wrist was tight enough that you could feel his pulse racing against your skin—or maybe that was yours. you were too overwhelmed to tell.

you glared up at him, chest heaving. "oh, really? because i remember you ghosting me for months—"

"my parents made me."

the words burst out of him like he'd been holding them in for years. he released your wrist to rake a hand through his hair, pacing the small space between his bed and the door like a caged animal.

"they—merlin, they lost it when they found out i was friends with a muggle-born," he continued, voice cracking on the last word. "threatened to pull me out of hogwarts. i had to—" he stopped, swallowed hard. "i had to pretend. until i could figure something out."

the confession hit you like a bludger to the chest. all the air left your lungs at once.

memories flooded back—sunghoon's sudden distance fifth year, the way he'd flinch whenever his new friends made comments about blood status, the times you'd caught him looking at you across the great hall with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"you could've told me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he shook his head, eyes shining in the dim light. "I couldn't. you would've tried to fix it. you would've—" his voice broke. "you would've gotten yourself hurt."

the raw honesty in his words stole your breath. for years, you'd assumed the worst; that he'd outgrown you, that you weren't enough. but this... this was something else entirely.

the air between you was heavy with everything unsaid. you could see the exact moment he realised how close you were standing, because his breath hitched, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"...i'm sorry," he murmured, so quiet you almost missed it.

the words settled over you like a warm cloak. not perfect. not a complete fix. but a start.

"me too," you whispered back.

when you slipped out of his room and back into yours, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

neither of you slept that night. you lay awake staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every look. wondering if this changed everything—or nothing at all.

you woke with a start, your cheek pressed against a half-open textbook. sunlight streamed through the common room windows—you’d fallen asleep at your usual table with the view ofthe lake, the one sunghoon had stolen so often. your neck ached, and there was drool on your parchment.

a shadow fell across your notes.

"rough night?"

sunghoon stood over you, holding two steaming mugs. he looked unfairly put-together for someone who’d also presumably gotten no sleep—his hair slightly damp from a shower, his prefect badge already pinned neatly to his robes.

you sat up too fast, your elbow knocking into an inkwell. "what are you—"

"coffee." he set one mug down in front of you, black with three sugars, just how you liked it. "figured you’d need it."

you stared at the mug like it might transform into a dungbomb. this was new. this was terrifying.

across the room, a group of fourth-years whispered behind their hands.

sunghoon cleared his throat. "patrols tonight. meet at eight?"

"yeah," you managed. "eight."

he nodded, already turning away—then paused. "oh, and y/n?"

"what?"

"you’ve got…" he gestured to his own cheek, mirroring where your face had been smushed against your notes. "ink."

you swiped at your face furiously as he walked off, but not before catching the way his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

the whispers started the moment you walked in together to the dining hall.

it wasn’t intentional—you’d just happened to leave the common room at the same time, and sunghoon had held the door open for you like some kind of gentleman, and now the your entire table was gaping.

"what the hell happened last night?" sunoo demanded as you slid onto the bench. next to him, jungwon’s eyebrows were in his hairline.

"nothing," you muttered, reaching for the toast.

"nothing?" jungwon leaned in. "he’s been staring at you since you sat down."

your head snapped up. sure enough, sunghoon was watching you from across the hall, chin propped on his hand. when he caught your eye, he smirked and took an exaggerated sip from his mug—the same one he’d brought you earlier.

you kicked sunoo under the table when he opened his mouth. "don’t."

meanwhile, at the slytherin table, sunghoon’s so-called friends weren’t even pretending not to stare. one of them—a tall guy with a permanent sneer—said something under his breath. sunghoon’s response was too quiet to hear, but the way his friend’s face paled was very satisfying.

you found out what he’d said to them later, when you passed them in the corridor.

"—thought you were done with that," sneer-boy was hissing, just around the corner from where you’d frozen mid-step.

"changed my mind," sunghoon’s voice was calm, but there was steel underneath. "got a problem with it?"

"she’s a muggle-born—"

"finish that sentence," sunghoon said, so quietly it was almost a whisper, "and i’ll hex you into next week."

silence.

you ducked into an alcove before they could see you, your heart pounding. when sunghoon walked past minutes later, alone, he paused—like he could sense you there.

"you can come out now," he called, amused. "unless you’re planning to ambush me again. which, fair."

you stepped out, cheeks burning. "i wasn’t eavesdropping—"

"liar." he fell into step beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world. "but since you heard all that…" he bumped your shoulder with his. "you’re welcome."

you bumped him back, harder. "idiot."

he grinned.

things changed after that.

sunghoon stopped stealing your study spot—instead, he’d join you there, sprawling across the bench like he owned it. you stopped hexing his belongings—mostly. (some traditions had to stay alive.)

his old friends glowered at you in the halls. yours teased you mercilessly.

and when you had patrols together, the silence wasn’t suffocating anymore—just quiet, comfortable.

(though he did still tease you about the bathroom incident. some things would never change.)

the moment the first raindrop hit your nose, you knew this trip was doomed.

you'd been assigned to chaperone a group of first-years on their first hogsmeade visit, with sunghoon as your unfortunate co-supervisor—because apparently the universe still hadn't finished laughing at you. the kids had dragged you from honeydukes to zonko's, their excitement barely contained as they pressed against every shop window.

sunghoon lingered at the back of the group, hands in his pockets, occasionally shooting you glances you couldn't quite decipher.

then the sky opened up without warning. one second you were counting heads near the post office, the next icy rain was pelting down in sheets, sending students scattering in every direction.

"in here!" sunghoon's voice cut through the chaos as his fingers closed around your wrist. you didn't process where he was pulling you until the bell above the door tinkled and the overwhelming scent of floral perfume hit you.

madam puddifoot's. the most notoriously romantic tea shop in the village, all lace doilies and floating cherubs and couples canoodling in heart-shaped booths.

"we are not—" you began, already backpedalling, but it was too late. the first-years had already stampeded inside, their squeals of delight echoing off the pink walls.

sunghoon stepped in behind you, his chest brushing your shoulder as he shook rainwater from his hair. "well. this is cozy."

you shot him a glare that could melt steel.

"i'd rather swim back to the castle."

the elderly witch behind the counter beamed at your bedraggled group. "young love! how precious!"

"we're not—"

"just chaperones," sunghoon finished smoothly, though the smirk playing at his lips ruined any attempt at innocence.

the next twenty minutes passed in a haze of humiliation. the first-years were seated at a large table near the back, leaving you and sunghoon wedged into a tiny booth for two—one adorned with actual cupid statues that periodically blew glitter into the air. your face burned as a cherub floated by dumping rose petals on unsuspecting patrons.

across from you, sunghoon looked unbearably amused, stirring his tea with infuriating calm.

"you're enjoying this," you accused, watching as he added a third sugar cube to his cup.

he raised an eyebrow. "the tea's decent."

"i meant the utter humiliation of this situation."

the corner of his mouth twitched. "that too."

a sudden commotion at the first-years' table saved you from responding. one of the girls was pointing between you two with alarming enthusiasm. "are you going to kiss?"

your teacup clattered against its saucer. sunghoon choked on his sip.

"we are not—"

"not in front of you lot," sunghoon interrupted solemnly, sending the table into giggles.

you kicked him under the table hard enough to make him wince. "you're dead to me."

the rain showed no signs of letting up, trapping you in this pastel nightmare. as minutes ticked by, you became increasingly aware of every accidental brush of sunghoon's knee against yours, every time his fingers grazed yours reaching for the sugar bowl. the shop's enchanted ceiling—currently mimicking a sunset—cast warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face in a way that made your chest feel oddly tight.

at one point, you caught him staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place—something between amusement and that same unreadable look he'd worn in the forest after your argument.

"what?" you muttered, self-consciously wiping at your face.

he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping so only you could hear. "just wondering how long it'll take you to admit this isn't so bad."

before you could retort, a chorus of "ooooooh!" erupted from the first-years' table. you looked down to realise sunghoon's hand was still covering yours on the tabletop—when had that happened?

you jerked back as if burned, sending a saucer clattering to the floor. the resulting cheers from the children made you want to disappear into the upholstery.

by the time the rain eased, your dignity was beyond salvage. the walk back to hogwarts was a parade of giggles and not-so-subtle whispers from your charges. sunghoon walked beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every few steps like he couldn't quite help himself.

"you realise we're never living this down," you groaned as the castle gates came into view.

he grinned, that infuriating, lopsided grin that used to make your stomach flip in fourth year and—annoyingly—still did now.

"where's your sense of adventure?"

"back in that tea shop, buried under approximately two hundred rose petals."

his laughter followed you all the way up the path, warm and familiar, and despite yourself, you found your steps falling into sync with his. (and if you didn't protest when one of the first-years snapped another photo of you two walking shoulder-to-shoulder—well. some things were better left unexamined.)

things between you and sunghoon had become dangerously comfortable. what started as reluctant co-prefect duties had slowly melted into late-night study sessions where your head would end up on his shoulder, patrols where his fingers lingered a second too long when helping you up, and inside jokes whispered too close to each other’s ears in the great hall.

it wasn’t a relationship, not really—just stolen moments and unspoken tension that made your stomach flip whenever he smirked at you across a crowded room.

that’s why it stung so much when you walked into the library and saw him laughing with eunji, a bright-eyed ravenclaw a year younger than you both who had newly joined. logically, you knew there was nothing romantic about it—he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as she enthusiastically explained some arithmancy concept, his expression more amused than affectionate. but the way his eyes crinkled at her enthusiasm, the easy way he nodded along—it reminded you too much of how he used to look at you before everything got complicated.

"y/n!" sunghoon called when he spotted you hovering by the shelves, waving you over with that same warm smile that always made your pulse skip. "come join us. eunji’s explaining this ridiculous theory about using arithmancy to predict quidditch outcomes."

you forced your feet to move, your grip tightening on your book bag. eunji greeted you with a cheerful wave, her braids swinging. "sunghoon said you’re brilliant at charms! maybe you can help me understand this part about wand movement harmonics?"

the next hour passed in a blur of half-hearted contributions from you and increasingly animated discussion between the two of them. every time you tried to interject, the conversation would circle back to some inside joke or advanced magical theory that left you feeling like an outsider in your own friendship. when eunji reached over to adjust sunghoon’s grip on her notes, demonstrating some wand technique, you suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.

"i should go," you muttered, gathering your things before either could protest. "forgot i promised to meet sunoo for... something."

sunghoon’s brow furrowed as you stood. "you okay?"

"fine." you forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. "just tired."

the walk back to your dorm felt infinitely longer than usual, each step weighed down by memories of fifth year—of sunghoon slowly slipping away from you, of empty promises to study together, of eventually finding him surrounded by new friends who looked at you like you didn’t belong.

hogsmeade weekend only made it worse. you’d been hoping to bump into sunghoon accidentally-on-purpose near honeydukes, maybe share a chocolate frog like old times. instead, you found him outside the three broomsticks deep in conversation with eunji again, their heads bent together over some parchment. when he laughed at something she said, that familiar loud, unguarded laugh that used to be yours, something sharp twisted in your chest.

you turned on your heel so fast you nearly collided with a group of third-years.

"there you are!" sunoo’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts as he and jungwon appeared beside you, their arms laden with zonko’s purchases. "we’ve been looking everywhere—oh."

sunoo followed your gaze to where sunghoon was now helping eunji adjust her scarf. "that again?"

you let them steer you into the three broomsticks, where jungwon immediately ordered three butterbeers.

"you’re being ridiculous," sunoo said bluntly as you slumped into a chair. "he looks at you like you invented sunlight. that’s just some kid he’s tutoring."

"but what if—"

"what if nothing," jungwon interrupted, pushing a frothy mug toward you. "remember when you turned his hair pink before the gryffindor match last year? he still smiles when someone mentions that."

the memory should have comforted you. instead, it just made you think of how easily things could change—how sunghoon had drifted away once before, how his parents’ disapproval still hung over whatever this was between you.

by monday, you’d started taking deliberate detours to avoid him. patrols were reassigned, library visits carefully timed, and when you couldn’t avoid crossing paths, you kept conversations painfully polite. sunghoon’s confused frowns and hesitant "hey, wait—"s as you hurried away only made your chest ache more.

"are you trying to break his heart or yours?" sunoo demanded one evening after you ducked into an empty classroom to avoid sunghoon in the corridor.

you pressed your back against the cold stone wall. "it’s not like that. i just... need space."

"from him? or from whatever’s happening between you two?"

you didn’t have an answer.

the tension came to a head in charms class. with flitwick delayed by some mishap in the staff room, the classroom had dissolved into chaos.

you’d gotten pulled into helping jay, a handsome gryffindor, untangle some particularly stubborn enchanted yarn. his dramatic retelling of his disastrous attempt to knit a scarf for his gran had you laughing so hard your sides hurt.

then you felt it—that unmistakable prickle of being watched.

sunghoon sat three rows back, his usually expressive face unreadable as he stared at you. his quill had stopped moving entirely, fingers clenched so tightly around it you could see the whites of his knuckles from across the room. when jay leaned in to whisper another joke, sunghoon’s jaw tightened visibly, his dark eyes flashing with something that sent heat crawling up your neck.

you forced yourself to look away, suddenly fascinated by the grain of your desk. but like a compass needle finding north, your gaze kept drifting back. minutes passed, and he was still watching you with that same intensity, as if trying to communicate something words couldn’t capture.

when flitwick finally arrived and class ended, you were out of your seat before the dismissal fully left his mouth. you didn’t look back, even when you heard sunghoon call your name in the corridor. your heart pounded as you took the stairs two at a time, your mind racing with questions you weren’t ready to face.

why did his attention still affect you like this? why did part of you still want to turn around and walk straight into that stormy gaze?

and most terrifying of all—what if you’d been wrong about everything?

the uncertainty settled heavy in your chest as you disappeared around the corner, leaving sunghoon and all your unanswered questions behind.

you should've known better than to think you'd have the prefect's bathroom to yourself. the universe had a cruel sense of humour when it came to you and sunghoon.

the massive, pool-like tub was empty when you arrived, steam curling off the water's surface in lazy tendrils. you'd changed into your bathing suit—a modest but pretty thing—before stepping in, sighing as the warm water lapped at your skin.

the golden taps lining the walls gleamed, each set with a different jewel that dispensed everything from rose-scented bubbles to vanilla-infused oils. you'd chosen a mix of both, the sweet floral scent wrapping around you as you leaned back, eyes closed, finally relaxing for the first time in days.

then the door slammed open.

your eyes flew open just in time to see sunghoon stride in, already shirtless, a towel slung low over his hips. your breath caught. he looked unfairly good, water droplets clinging to his skin from the humid air, his dark hair slightly damp like he'd just showered.

his gaze locked onto yours immediately.

"you," he said, voice rough, "have been avoiding me."

you swallowed, sinking a little deeper into the water. "i wasn't-"

"don't lie." he dropped the towel (thank merlin, he was wearing swim trunks) and stepped into the pool, not breaking eye contact for a second. the water rippled around him as he moved closer, and you instinctively backed toward the far edge, your pulse thundering in your ears.

he stopped you with a hand on your wrist. "where are you going?"

"the-the soap." you gestured weakly to the rose-and-vanilla tap across the pool. "i wanted to.."

sunghoon's grip tightened just slightly. "then go."

you didn't move. neither did he.

the silence stretched, thick with tension, until he finally let out a frustrated breath and tugged you closer. "you're really going to pretend nothing's wrong?"

you bit your lip, glancing away. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"bullshit." his thumb brushed over your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "you've been dodging me for days. skipping patrols. running away every time i get near you." his voice dropped, low and dangerous. "was it because of him?"

you blinked. "who?"

"that gryffindor. the one you were laughing with in class." his jaw clenched. "are you into him? is that why—"

"what? no!" you gaped at him. "i was just helping him with—"

"then why?" sunghoon's fingers slid up your arm, his touch burning even through the water. "why avoid me?"

you hesitated, then muttered, "you were the one always with that ravenclaw girl."

sunghoon stilled. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. "eunji?"

you scowled. "don't act like you don't know who i'm talking about."

he laughed, low and amused, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. "she's my friend's little sister, and, for the record, very much into girls."

your cheeks burned as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "were you jealous?"

"no!"

"liar." his nose brushed along your neck, and you shivered.

"you've been driving me crazy, you know that? watching you laugh with someone else, then running every time i tried to talk to you—" his hands slid down to your waist, gripping tight. "i couldn't take it"

your breath hitched. "sunghoon—"

"let me help you with that soap," he murmured, already reaching for the bottle floating nearby.

you didn't protest as he poured a generous amount into his palms, his hands smoothing over your shoulders, down your arms, his touch deliberate and slow. when he reached your back, you tensed, but his fingers were careful, kneading the tension from your muscles as he worked the lather into your skin.

"you're so fucking pretty," he muttered, his lips brushing your shoulder. "it's unfair."

you leaned into him without thinking, your head tipping back against his chest. his hands stilled, then slid around to your front, tracing the dip of your collarbones, the curve of your waist. you could feel his heartbeat against your back, rapid and unsteady.

"sunghoon," you whispered, "your parents wouldn't approve of this. of us."

he stilled, then huffed a laugh. "who cares what they think?"

"they pulled you out of my life once already—"

"and i regret letting that happen every day." his thumb brushed your wrist. "they'll give in once they meet you."

your breath hitched. "you're going to make me meet them?"

"yeah," he said simply, pulling you flush against him. "you're gonna be my girlfriend after all."

the word sent heat rushing to your cheeks. "i never agreed to that."

sunghoon's hands slid to your waist. "then say no." when you didn't, his smirk returned. "that's what i thought."

he turned you to face him, his eyes dark with something that made your stomach flip. "tell me you feel it too."

you didn't have to ask what he meant. "i do."

his breath left him in a rush, and then his mouth was on yours, hot and desperate.

the kiss stole the air from your lungs, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and aching want. his hands gripped your hips like he was afraid you might slip away, fingertips digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your swimsuit. you whimpered against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging just enough to make him groan—a low, broken sound that sent a fresh bolt of heat straight to you.

"fuck," he muttered against your lips, voice hoarse, "i missed you. you have no idea—"

he cut himself off by kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that made your knees weak. you barely realised you were moving until your back hit the slick marble edge of the pool, trapping you between the cool stone and the hard, burning press of sunghoon’s body.

he kissed like he was trying to memorise you—long, unhurried drags of his mouth against yours, punctuated by little nips to your bottom lip that had you gasping. one of his hands slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip beneath your ribs, until his thumb brushed just under the swell of your breast, featherlight.

you broke the kiss with a gasp, your head falling back against the marble. "sunghoon—"

"tell me to stop," he said, voice wrecked, forehead pressed to yours. his hand stayed where it was, trembling slightly.

you opened your mouth—but no protest came out. instead, your hands slid down his chest, mapping the planes of muscle, the slick heat of his skin, until you were clutching at him helplessly.

"that's what i thought," he breathed, almost a laugh, before his mouth found your throat.

you choked on a moan as he kissed down the column of your neck, teeth scraping lightly, tongue soothing the sting. his hands, bolder now, roamed freely over your body, mapping every inch like it was his right. the thin straps of your bathing suit slipped down your shoulders under his touch, and you shivered, equal parts from the chill of the air and the heat building inside you.

"someone could walk in," you gasped, barely coherent as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

he cursed under his breath, dragging himself back enough to look at you. his eyes were black with heat, pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

"then come to my room," he said roughly, his voice pure sin. "please."

you hesitated—but then he kissed you again, slow this time, coaxing, like a promise of everything he wasn’t saying out loud. his thumb rubbed slow circles into your hip, grounding you.

"unless," he said against your mouth, smirking wickedly, "you'd rather stay here and risk getting caught."

you swatted his chest, but the fight had long since gone out of you. your body was already leaning into his, your mouth chasing his kiss. "fine," you whispered. "but only because—"

he didn't let you finish, with a grin, he lifted you out of the water in one smooth motion, making you squeal as he carried you toward the door, his lips finding yours again before you could protest.

“your room is right next door after all, so we don’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

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tonycries · 1 year ago

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FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 — for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3

Men In Uniform Do It Best!

Dirty Lil' Secrets

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Give Me Tough Love

Never Ever Seen This Before!

We Don't Have No Babies!

Like A Fever

Bad Things (To You)

Prettier When Messy!

Care For You!

Green-eyed Monster

So Lonely In My Mansion!

Kiss Me More!

Girl, I Do This Often

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Sl*t Me Out!

Match My Freak!

WAP!

R U Mine?

Hot To Go!

Girl, You Earned It!

I'm A BIG Stepper!

BODY-ODY!

SOOO ANXIOUS

Long Overdue!

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

The Family Matter?!

I-T G-I-R-L!

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

BRAT!

She's My Vitals!

Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

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

Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.

You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Something Stupid — Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!

F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Exes who...

Love Is Blind

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Wanna Do Bad Things To You

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Lemme Ride, Baby!

Can I Fill You Up, Baby?

"Pull On It. Harder."

Little Heaven

#masterlist #tonynavi

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morallysuperiorlips · 5 months ago

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10 Ways to Ensure Your Villain's Evil Monologuing Dialogue is as Unsettling as Possible!

1.) Make sure you're mixing body language with the words themselves: You can have your villain saying the most twisted shit, but if they're just standing there like a cardboard cutout, their words probably aren't going to hit as hard. Have them touch your protag. Have them toy with a weapon as if they're going to use it. Have them pace. Have them put together the blood ritual they're ranting about. Keep them moving.

2.) Have them use personal knowledge as a tool: Does your villain have some deep dark dirt on your protag? Don't let that all go in one swoop. Let them hint at it in drops before they open the dam. Maybe they use that knowledge as a bargaining tool to get an upper hand, or use it to send the trapped protag into a frenzy because they love to watch them scream.

3.) When it comes to threats, certainty is key: A threat is a threat, but there's nothing like a threat being spoken as if the villain knows it's going to happen. Whether your villain has already caught your protag, or is in the process of doing so, everything they say they want to see happen to your protag needs to come with absolute certainty. Almost as if it's a certain warning, and not just something they’re saying to be scary.

4.) Contradictions are your friend: Nothing indicates a warped villainous mind more than some juicy contradictions. Your villain might be talking about how they're going to flay your protag's hide after catching them in their dungeon, only to throw in a subtle "but, you're probably safer here with me." Find ways to toss in twisted contradictions that also underline the crazy shit they might be saying.

5.) Mess with syntax: Unsettling dialogue calls for unsettling structure. Incomplete sentences, unforeseen pauses, longwinded explanations broken up by more unforeseen pauses. Whatever it is, keep the rhythm offbeat. Don't give your reader a chance to be able to tell what's coming.

6.) Expectations? Subvert those: Your protag and even your readers might be suspecting one thing from your villain, so throw them a curveball and hit them with the complete opposite. Perhaps you've reached a point in your story where it seems like the villain might kill your protag on sight. But no, have your villain mention exactly why they aren't going to do that, and why they want to wait it out.

7.) Mix quiet confidence and loud assertion: Some might say that the silent seether is scarier, while others might agree that the sudden explosive type takes the bigger unsettling prize. In my opinion, you can really capitalize on the eeriness of villain dialogue by tapping into both. A villain that speaks on with refined confidence before very suddenly exploding, without much warning, can really power up the dread behind their words.

8.) Sometimes, ambiguity is better than being straightforward: Whether it's obvious that your villain has a lot of tricks up their sleeves--or not--leaving things to the imaginations of your protag, and subsequently, your readers is great for building dread. You can use dialogue to make it clear that they're up to something, but never make them fully disclose what that is. They might show it instead of tell it, or it might just never happen. Either way, it'll likely have everyone looking over their shoulders.

9.) There might be times where silence says everything: You might be worried about penning the correct verbiage for your villain's big evil speech, but sometimes, silence speaks wonders. When used correctly, a long pause, or a bout of silence after your protag has said their piece can build a sense of uneasiness more than them actually speaking would have.

10.) Find ways for your villain to mirror the hero: A monologuing villain is better when they're throwing your hero's values and beliefs back in their face. A hero that believes in mercy? Well, have your villain talk about how they'll make them beg for it. A hero that believes in the greater good? Have your villain talk about their idea of a greater good.

As always, GO WRITE SOMETHING TODAY! <3

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jks1uv · 2 months ago

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𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐸𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ; mark grayson / invincible

summary: in every universe, mark grayson turns into his father and seals his destiny as a true viltrumite. what if things are different this time?

pairing: fem!reader x mark grayson.

trope: childhood best friends to lovers + fate gives love a chance.

genre: fluff + angst + slow-burn romance + hurt / comfort + some comedy.

warnings‼️: crude language + spoilers for s3 (mark’s variants) + amber & eve never get w mark but r goated wingwomen & friends for reader + william, rick & rex r goated wingmen for mark + 2 jealous!mark moments + the tiniest moment of tension + multiverse talk + a mention of the chicago incident feat. scott / powerplex + REX LIVES 🗣️‼️🔥🔥 + a short & sweet kiss scene.

word count: 9,966.

random disclaimerrr: when eve said “you don’t deserve this” 😞 like he always just out here suffering 💔 kate, immortal, cecil & scott pmo so bad like bruh can y’all just pls stfu pls 🙏🏽 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY GOAT REX IS DEAD LIKE BRUH HOW 😭😞💔 but the 2 ppl majority of the fandom hates get their happy ending… mkay… happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Mark Grayson has always liked you.

It was the first day of school, 2nd grade homeroom. The first day of school was always nerve wracking but this time was different.

His desk was next to you per the seating chart and you were the last kid to come in.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with some white bows on it and sky blue jeans with pink flowers embroidered on the pockets. White twinkle toes with pink and purple rhinestones.

Your hair was styled in 2 ponytails with cute bows on the bands.

Your eyes bright and a shy smile on your lips.

“Hi.” You bashfully said to him.

“Hi.” He said back in a daze.

His seven year old heart was fluttering and he was as red as a tomato when he realized it was you! You were the girl whose empty desk he was seated next to!

You always shared homeroom, if not, recess with him in elementary school.

Then came middle school, where you had at least 2 classes with him.

High school was a bit easier as you saw him 3-4 times a day, and that’s not including clubs or other extracurricular activities.

He spent 11 years like that. Seeing you in class, in the hallways, at lunch or after school.

Your relationship with him never wavered. Your character was still the same even after new chapters and opportunities for development.

He’s endured some insane shit, but he’s so happy the one constant in his life remained consistent.

“You still have a crush on her?!”

“Shut up, William. Or do you want the whole world to know.” Mark chides.

William snorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is). “The whole world already knows, it’s just your dumbass that’s somehow oblivious.”

“Give the lover boy a break.” Amber lightly teases.

Mark sighs and rubs his face with his hands, trying to hide the redness creeping up on him without his consent.

“Is that her?” Rick points towards Mark’s dream girl.

But what he forgot to mention was the living explosion (literally) walking alongside you.

“What’s he doing here?” Eve’s surprised Rex decided to step foot on college campus willingly.

William subtly side-eyes Mark and makes a desperate attempt to hold in his laughter by squeezing Rick’s hand.

Mark slowly stands, a confused look on his face.

“I’ll… go find out.” He says it like a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what he should do.

Amber and Eve share a knowing look.

“You’re funny.” You say as you catch your breath.

Rex shrugs nonchalantly and smirks. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You’re shaking your head and are about to say something when you see Mark in front of you.

“Mark.” Your eyes crinkle as you smile.

You go in for your usual hug and Mark accepts it.

Unbeknownst to you that he’s making wide eyes among other facial expressions in a desperate attempt to make contact with the other male.

The hug lasts for a second longer and you ignore the butterflies that swarm your belly, deducing that he probably just wanted to hug you a bit longer.

No big deal you think as you’re screaming inside the longer you feel Mark’s arms around your waist.

When you meet Mark’s face, he allows himself to give you a tight-lipped smile.

“Mark, this is-”

“Rex! Heyy, how’s it going?” He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head a bit. “Yeah… wait, you guys know each other?”

Rex is enthusiast with his reply. “Fuck yeah! This is my best bro.”

He slaps Mark’s back with a confident grin and the “bro” laughs awkwardly.

You know, one of those ‘ha ha ha’ type laughs.

“Okay. So, um, Mark?”

“Yeah?” Aaand his voice cracks.

You politely ignore it but Mark wants to die inside.

“I was wondering if you were still down to go to the mall?”

Mark knows you’re attentive and take your friendships seriously, which isn’t old news. But he can’t help feeling special that’s you remembered a thought from a couple days prior.

“Only if you’ll buy me boba.”

Mark never lets you buy him anything if he can help it, and that’s how it’s always been.

You insist, he’ll deny; but that doesn’t mean his sentiment isn’t nice.

You blink and softly smile at his bargain. “Deal.”

Rex hums thoughtfully, a hand at his chin and his gaze on the sky.

“Can I join? I don’t have anything going onnn~” He suggests in a sing-song manner.

“No, you can’t!” Mark suddenly yells.

You look at Mark with furrowed brows. “Mark, don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Mark, don’t be rude.” Rex repeats with a sly expression.

Mark deeply exhales through his nose and puts on a fake smile. “Rex, can I talk to you? Alone.”

“Sure!”

He follows Mark about 15 steps away from you.

You decide to sit down on a bench nearby and watch some TikTok to pass the time.

“Hey, so, um- quick question: what the hell are you doing here?”

Rex scoffs. “What, I can’t come visit my bro?”

Mark quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Rex puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll be honest. I was here to talk to you about Cecil,” He looks over at you and sighs dramatically.

“But?” Mark presses when he sees Rex eyeing you.

“I see a hot girl and I can’t help myself, you know?” He smirks knowing he’ll rile Mark up and get the exact reaction he wants.

Mark immediately gets in his line of sight, making Rex back up a bit from the fast and unforgiving wind.

“Woah, man! A little warning next time before you almost blow me away?”

Mark ignores him. “Don’t call her that.”

The truth is, Rex came to campus with a purpose.

Mark never talks about you, but Eve may have let your name slip into conversation a few times.

Rex may be aloof and jerk-ish but he’ll be serious when it’s time.

He’s seen the way Mark’s face changed every time Eve mentioned you; his head would tilt slightly, he’d have a small, unnoticeable smile on his lips.

Rex suspected a crush and he was right! Of course he was, look at the way he’s being defensive of you.

There was just one problem, he didn’t know how you looked. He asked Eve and she was suspicious, but when he revealed his own suspicions, she indulged him.

So, the two of them made a plan with Amber, William and Rick; Operation: Get Mark To Man Up and Admit His Feelings Before You Slip Away.

- FLASHBACK -

“She’s wearing a PINK t-shirt with ripped blue jeans. Oh, and a black backpack.” William directs.

“Pink shirt, black backpack, ripped blue jeans. Got it.”

“PINK as in the brand, not the color.” Amber reminds.

“Wait, what? So what color is the shirt?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s dark green..? And the logo is an even darker shade. ” Eve remembers.

Rex is so unimpressed.

“So, let me get this straight; she’s wearing a shirt from the brand PINK, but it’s just dark green?”

“I’d say you’re on the right track.” Rick chimes.

“This shit is ridiculous. I mean, seriously. Why can’t you girls just wear stuff that warrant normal descriptions?”

“Shut up, Rex.” Amber and Eve say simultaneously.

- FLASH FORWARD -

“Alright, her unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

Mark is about to defend himself against that true baseless allegation when William and Rick find him.

“What’re we gossiping about?”

There’s a glint in William’s eyes, the kind you don’t miss if you’re paying attention to the very specific lilt in his tone.

“Oh, I was just telling Marky boy here,”

Mark side-eyes Rex at the ridiculous nickname.

“How he’s Y/n’s unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

William claps his hands together. “That’s actually an accurate assessment.”

Mark’s offended. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Rick clears his throat as a guise to hide the very subtle laugh itching his throat.

“Sassy.” William says impressed in his best friends comeback skills.

Rex gets a phone call and excuses himself, giving William a crisp high-five and Rick a chest bump.

“Go get your Juliet, Romeo!” He cheers.

William shakes his head as he guffaws at the man.

“Dude, he's hilarious. How come you've never introduced him to us before?”

“Do I really have to answer that?”

William rolls his eyes at him.

“Anyways. When are you gonna tell Y/n you love her, again?”

“William!” Mark whines.

Rick smiles and expands his thinking.

“He meant to say, you should tell her soon. Before she's with someone else and leaves you to collect the pieces of your broken heart.”

“Not gonna lie, that's exactly what he needs to hear right now.”

Mark can't lie either. “Yeah. You kinda ate with that.”

William cringes and Rick winces with embarrassment.

“Hey! So, uhh, never say that again. Hope this helps.” William makes a finger heart.

“Wha- but I used the phrase correctly! Oh, come on guys, seriously?”

- MEANWHILE, WITH AMBER & EVE -

Amber and Eve thought it’d be a good idea to have a quick chat with you while you were waiting on Mark.

They casually brought up relationships and basically implied that ‘men ain’t shit’, but you disagree with that attitude.

“I dunno... Mark’s a good guy.”

“Oh yeah, for sure! Mark’s one of the good ones.”

Eve nods along to Amber’s statement.

She reminisced on her fair share with toxic relationships. She deliberately left out how it was with Rex but that’s okay, you don’t need to know that…

“Are you and Mark..?”

You feel your cheeks warm at the thought but you’d be lying if you deny your feelings for him.

“No.” You state with your head down and hands in your lap, playing with a ripped thread on your jeans.

“Huh. That’s a shame.” Eve comments.

That gets your attention.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that you and Mark seem…”

“Ideal.” Amber completes smoothly.

Your wide eyes and mouth agape give you away.

“You've never thought about him like that?”

You have, but how do you admit this to Mark’s coworker and friend without it getting back to him?

You think Amber and Eve are cool, they’re nice to you; but they're more Mark’s friends.

To you, they're friends of a friend.

Amber senses your hesitation and sat down next to you.

“We won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Eve locks her lips with an imaginary key and throws it away.

That elicits a small laugh out of you, making you feel a bit more confident to share your secret.

You look over and see Mark and Rex still talking, now joined by William and Rick.

You contemplate for a moment before admitting it.

“Yeah.” You breathe out.

Eve hums in thought. “Let me guess, you don’t want to say anything in case it’ll fuck up the friendship?”

You gasp lightly at her spot-on description. “How’d you know?!”

She just shrugs nonchalantly and Amber bites her tongue to point out how obvious the entire situation is.

“I do like him, a lot... but what if he doesn’t feel the same? I would've ruined something special for something selfish and it would stay with me forever.”

You rant to the 2 girls you’re closest with and somehow, it feels right. You dismiss the thought of them turning out like the average mean girls in a teenage rom-com.

“But what if he does like you back?” Eve proposes.

“Then he’ll have to make the first move.” You shrug obviously.

“I know that’s right.”

You feel giddy from Amber’s approval.

She’s always been the type to keep it short and sweet but once you get her talking? She’ll always keep it real.

“We gotta go but we’ll see you later?”

Eve's already planning on the next hangout because she likes you enough to wanna help. She doesn’t like a lot of people so consider yourself special!

“Oh! Uh- yeah! Sure, that works with me.”

“It’s settled then.”

“See ya, Y/n.”

Coincidentally, you see the boys leave, leaving Mark to come to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

“Just let me try it.” Mark whines.

You shook your head and stood your ground. “It'll be gone in under ten seconds.”

He gasps dramatically, a hand to the heart like a lady of the opera. “You don't have faith in me?! I am a superhero-”

“I'm sure that's what they say.”

Your sarcasm isn’t foreign but he grows quiet at the remark.

It just slipped out so easily, without care or regard. You immediately try to make it right.

“I’m sorry, Mark.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t mean it like that.”

Ever the sweetheart but you refuse.

“No, it isn’t.” You stop walking. “I was careless with what I said and it’s not right.”

He looks at you with appreciation and gives you a smile. “Thank you, Y/n. It feels nice to be seen as I am.”

That both warms and saddens your heart.

You know how much he’s been through and even though you’ll never truly understand, you know he can still count on you. You’ll be there for him and that’s gotta mean something.

“Of course.”

You and Mark spend the next hour chatting and idly checking out things in the stores.

You wander into the dress and gown section and are completely in awe of the collection. Every color you can think of in every style: silky, thigh cut, halter top, strapless.

Your hands run through the material and you’re reminded of the spring formal coming up soon.

Not everyone gets the chance of going but you have a friend who extended the courtesy of inviting you and a plus one.

You recall the last time you went to a dance: your senior year of high school's prom. It was memorable. You were a part of a small group that went together; consisting of your friends.

You took photos with Mark and danced with him for a bit but not like anything you wished. There's nothing romantic about screaming club anthem lyrics while getting twerked on but since it was Mark's ass, you didn’t complain.

That was the first and last time he accepted drinks from William, by the way.

You chuckle quietly to yourself in memory of that glorious night when Mark comes up behind you.

"You ready to go or do you wanna try some of them on?"

You take another look at the gorgeous dresses and think.

Mark's hoping you say yes.

He won't admit it anytime soon and despite him already thinking you're the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, prom night solidified that for him.

You had him starstruck.

His hear stuttered, adrenaline rushed through his veins and conjured up a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

SImply put, every feeling and action that describes a man in awe of a pretty lady was an accurate depiction of him.

“Nah, maybe some other time.” You decide.

Mark nods, looking forward to the future dress tryouts. “Okay.”

Later, you have dinner with Mark, Oliver and Debbie.

Mark flew out and brought home some authentic pasta and garlic bread from Italy.

You rolled your eyes playfully and claimed he was being “extra” but reevaluated your statement when you thought about it.

If you could move that fast, you'd go to another country to have their finest food as well.

“It's so good to have you, honey.”

Debbie was always so nice to you, it made you feel happy and proud of yourself knowing someone's mom wholeheartedly accepts your presence in their kids life.

“It's good to be here.”

“Are you gonna stay the night?!” The purple little boy asked full of hope.

You didn't want to let him down but you had no choice.

“I'm sorry, Oliver, but not tonight.” You ruffle his hair and give him an apologetic smile.

You know he's bummed out when he doesn't sound that infectious laugh and tell you you're messing up his hair.

“Oh.”

You feel Mark's gaze on you and when you look up, he offers a sympathetic smile.

“I can stay until it's time for you to sleep.”

You know you've got him, it's an offer he can't refuse.

He's all smiles now and hugs you by the waist, his head laying on your chest.

You smile and hug him back, your head laying on his.

Mark cleans the table and Oliver takes out the trash while you help Debbie with the dishes.

“It doesn't matter how many times I say “no”, does it?”

You hum and shake your head. “Nope.”

You make small talk while you dry after she scrubs and rinses. About college, your plans after college, Mark.

“What about him?” You wonder.

“I mean, how has be been since...”

You see a look of helplessness on her face.

Debbie may be his mother but even she is not immune to the conflict of secrecy in her son's life.

You instantly feel bad.

Mark always tells you everything but to have his own mom ask you things about her son makes the situation complex.

You turn your head over your shoulder and see Mark playing a video game with his baby brother.

When Mark told you about Nolan, what happened to them on Thraxa and the events that unfolded afterwards, you didn't know how to respond.

As if hearing Nolan reveal his plans for Earth and call Debbie a “pet” wasn't heartbreaking enough, you were there with Debbie when Mark was brutally assaulted by his own father.

Then you hear of Nolan's second family he while the first one was still trying to keep it together and deal with the devastating aftermath of the biggest betrayal.

You almost cried when Mark broke down about Angstrom Levy hurting Debbie and Oliver.

You were out of the country on a field trip with your classmates when that happened. Devastated was an understatement for how you felt to hear both Mark and Debbie in the hospital from William.

Mark shamefully admitted to killing Angstrom, thinking that would sever the bond between you two. He expected you to be afraid of him, no matter how awful he’d feel about doing that to you.

It was the total opposite, you embraced him and let him cry on your shoulder. You let him feel everything but you also let him feel your hand in his.

You looked him in the eyes and told him that he did what he had to do and if killing Angstrom was the solution, then so be it.

“Mark told me everything. From seeing Mr. Grayson—”

You see a flash of hurt in Debbie's eyes at the mention of his name and almost forget that before he was known as Omni-Man, he was Mr. Grayson. He was Mark's dad.

“—again and about Oliver. Up until Angstrom and how the last thing he did was hurt you and Oliver.”

Debbie drys her hands and looks out of the window above the sink.

You can tell she’s disassociating. Her eyes seem so far away and crestfallen.

You don’t know if she’s getting much sleep but you also can’t imagine getting any if you were her.

You put a hand on her shoulder and she’s visibly shaken out of her thoughts.

“He’s gonna be okay, and so are you.”

She looks at you like you’ve lit up a candle at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Debbie leans in for a hug, eliciting a small sigh when you strengthen the embrace a little.

You figured she should feel taken care of for once.

“Thank you.”

You hear her sincerity and make a mental note to talk about this with Mark later on.

Oliver is tired out from having a “good playdate” with you and his older brother.

You tuck him in for the night per his request and can't help but feel the warmth from taking care of him touch your heart.

He's a growing boy but despite the many changes one goes through due to that constant stage of life, his feelings for you don't change.

Mark loves how much Oliver loves you. He loves seeing 2 of the most important people in his life get along so well, secretly admiring the way you've grown a soft spot in his mother's heart, too.

“They grow up so fast.” Mark attempts to humor.

You hum and try your best not to cry dwell on the bittersweetness of that phrase.

“Yeah.”

You're sitting on Mark's bed, looking fondly at the one of many drawings the kid made for you.

You softly exhale and bring up the conversation you had earlier with Debbie.

“Mark, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

He looks at you knowingly. “I know.”

Your eyes widen a bit at that revelation. “You do?”

He nods, a pursed smile on his face. “I have super hearing, remember?”

How did you forget that?

You close your eyes and exhale sharply, feeling silly for forgetting that power of his. “Right, duh.”

You don’t want to push the conversation if he’s not feeling it but you want to know if you did the right thing.

“I... didn’t overstep… right?”

“Oh, no. No, you didn’t.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… haven’t had the best time talking to her about the things I say to you.”

You nod in understanding.

“I felt bad when she asked you how I’m doing. She should be able to ask me that.”

He’s guilt-stricken and it makes you feel dejected.

“Mark.” You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard talking to your mom about your inner turmoil but you’re all she has.”

Who does Debbie go to when she wants to discuss the matters of her heart? Who’ll listen when she wants someone to talk to?

“You give her the strength to carry on so let her give you some peace of mind, hm?”

Mark’s eyes shine with a strong fondness for you, his mind wiped clean of all things difficult and heart ten times lighter.

You’ve always understood him, whether he explains himself or not. You could always just know.

Your heart and emotional intelligence are perhaps his favorite things about you.

“You okay?” You ask, worried you’ve overstepped again.

“Never been better.” He promises.

A soft smile graces his lips as he leans in to hug you.

You accept it with an equal gentle expression and when you feel his arms wrap around your middle, you feel good.

Mark is invulnerable but not when it comes to the war between his mind and heart, that’s when you step in. And when you do, there’s always a resolution found in great clarity.

You feel his heartbeat above yours and unconsciously, they sync. His breathing evens out with yours.

It feels intimate, this hug.

You’ve hugged him a million times before but none of them have felt quite like this.

A heavy weight on his shoulders has evaporated and you can feel his gratitude.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He murmurs.

You tilt your head back a bit so he can see you. “Then don’t.” You shrug, like it’s the most obvious answer.

He chuckles lightly and blinks at you, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of his arms loosening around you and replacing the warmth with his hands on your hips.

You subconsciously gulp and watch his eyes flicker towards your eyes, lips then back to your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear he moves his head a little closer to you; just enough to barely touch noses.

Your stomach is in a frenzy and your hands feel clammy.

Is this really happening?

But then, like a switch being flipped off; he gingerly clears his throat and backs away.

You blink, catching yourself in a daze and he gets up to put on a movie.

He acts like he wasn’t just about to kiss you, as if that chemistry was just a figment of your imagination.

You don’t have the guts to say anything, to ask the obvious. So, you also pretend that you two weren’t just about to fulfill your biggest ‘what if?’ scenario.

“Oh, wow… that’s crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

It was nice to hear sympathies from the only people who you could afford to talk about this with. They’re also the only people who wouldn’t go and spread the telltale truth of the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I can’t believe he fumbled this badly.” Amber facepalms herself in disbelief.

She sighs in exasperation and plops down on your bed with an arm covering her eyes.

Eve doesn’t move from her position; leaning on your wall with her arms crossed and her face in thought.

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?” You wonder aloud.

Amber peeks an eye out from under her elbow and Eve shakes her head.

“No, no, no. Trust me, that’s not it.”

“Don’t seem so sure.” You grumble as you pick at your nails to distract yourself from the heartache.

Eve sits down beside you and thinks about her words carefully. “Mark… well, I won’t defend him; he is kinda stupid.”

“Kinda?” Amber argues.

That makes you grin a bit.

“But he’s also your best friend, and you’re his. Maybe he doesn’t know how he feels but he does know that you’re not worth the risk of something he’s unsure will ever happen.”

Somehow, she put things into a perspective you’ve never thought about before.

“I never thought about it like that.”

You feel Amber sit up.

“That’s because it’s a confusing situation. Seeing both sides of the story might help you make some sense, give you consolation.”

You nod, already having potential answers to your unanswered questions. If not real answers, you’ll settle for theories. It’s still something.

“Thank you, guys.”

Amber winks at you. “Anytime.”

“Of course. We're rooting for you both.”

You shyly smile when Eve nudges your shoulder.

“So," She claps her hands together. “what should we do to commence our very first sleepover? Omegle?”

Amber is concerned for the first time at Eve’s expense.

“Umm...” You pout your lips to the side.

“I don't find the idea of accidentally getting flashed the most... thrilling.” Ambers grimaces.

“Yeah.” You nod.

Eve has a sly look on her face, one that says her proposition comes with an entertaining twist.

“Trust me, I have an idea.”

“Okay, that was pretty fun.” Amber concedes.

You laugh softly to yourself, remembering the events from the previous night.

The 3 of you decide to go out for lunch, finding the night an excellent moment for bonding.

“What was fun?”

Mark pulls a seat up at the table you're occupying.

“Mark? How'd you know we were here?” You query.

Mark looks just as confused as you but before he could answer, Eve does it for him.

“I invited him.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You don't have a problem, it's just that you thought this was gonna be “girl time” as you like to call these moments.

It would've been nice to know, at least.

Amber attempts to start up a conversation but little did you know; this conversation was a part of Eve's “idea” she mentioned the night prior.

“We went on Omegle last night.”

Mark's eyebrows raise in surprise. “Did anything happen?”

You understand the underlying message to be, “Were you victims to any unsolicited sexual advance?” and find it kind of sweet that Mark cares enough to have that be his first train of thought.

“Yeah, actually.” Eve notes as she takes a bite of her burger.

“Y/n's got herself a loverboy.”

You choke on your drink. Exploding into a fit of coughs, you hope it kills you.

Mark is quick to pat your back and try to aid in helping.

When you catch your breath, you look over at him awkwardly and thank him.

“Don't mention it.” He humbly said.

You make it a personal mission to never bring it up. Ever.

Amber continues to fuel the fire.

“Yeahhh.” She sighs. “He's Russian and was all, like, ‘Your eyes are like the ocean and I am a merman.’.” She puts on her best Russian accent and giggles when she nails it.

“Mm!” Eve makes a noise of enthusiasm, adding on to the punchline. “And then he said, ‘They are so deep, I can drown in them.’.”

“The fuck?” Mark grunts under his breath. “But mermen can swim.”

Honestly, he thought it was fucking stupid. Even if this guy was a “merman”, he'd be able to swim. Drowning is totally out of the question.

“Yeah, but it was the thought that counts.” Amber spoke before eating a fry.

“It was pretty corny.” Eve seemingly agrees with Mark.

“See?! I knew I wasn't the only one.” Mark nods to himself.

“But...”

His smile drops.

“I gotta admit, it was kind of romantic.”

Mark can't believe this.

Is romance really dead? Aren't punchlines supposed to make sense?

He knows it's only romantic because the guy's Russian. Okay, so he has an accent. So what? That should pardon his inadequacy of flirting?

“You guys only ate it up because he has an accent.”

Mark narrows his eyes as he takes a curly fry from your plate.

Amber and Eve side eye each other with mischief as they see you enter the ring.

“I thought it was kind of sweet, you know? At least he tried.” You counter.

Mark tilts his head, clearly bewildered. “You mean to say that you actually liked that?”

You don’t like his accusatory tone. “It wasn’t that bad, Mark.”

He rolls his eyes and begs to differ. “Wasn’t that bad- it made no sense! He definitely pulled that shit out of Google’s top thirty best flirty lines.” He puts air quotes around best.

“Oh, would you look at that? I actually have to go do that... thing.” Eve slowly rises from her seat.

“Yeah, me too.” Amber flashes a sweet smile.

They’re gone before you can impose.

“They really just left.” You say to no one.

Mark is still somehow going. “I just… I dunno.” He says, defeated.

“Mark, it wasn’t that deep. He liked my eyes and said some line that made me feel nice. That’s all.”

He nods like he understands but he really doesn’t.

“He’s no Mr. Darcy.” You settle as you take a sip of your milkshake.

Mark smiles at that and you’re confused.

“Why’re you smiling?”

“I knew it! I knew you couldn’t possible swoon over that ridiculous, nonsensical one-liner.”

You laugh incredulously. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just knew he couldn’t be your type after that. Sure, you like them romantic but with genuine thought.”

He says that so confidently, with such attention, it makes you feel nicer than the Russian’s compliment. He makes you feel seen with that keen observation.

You nod to yourself, lowkey impressed.

“Mkay.” You simply say.

His gaze flickers towards you at the seemingly confusing, neutral response.

“What.”

“What, what?”

“You said that like you’re not convinced.”

You deeply exhale, not wanting to argue anymore. “Mkay.”

His eyes widen a bit and he snaps at you like he’s just discovered the phrase: ‘eureka!’.

“That, right there. That’s what I mean.”

You rub at your head as if you’ve got a headache but you doubt you won’t get one soon.

“Elaborate.”

You’re sticking with as little words as possible if it means to get to the point.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks with worry coating his tone.

You shake your head, unsure of what’s happening. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into you today. You’re in this strange mood to argue.”

He blinks.

You’re right.

Arguments are a rare occurrence in this relationship.

“We never argue.” He realizes regretfully.

Your eyes trail up his form and you see the uncomfortableness etched onto his outline.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry-”

There’s a pause, one that melts the lingering awkwardness into friendliness.

You see the hints of a smile creep up on him and instinctually, there’s one in yours.

“You first.”

Ever the gentleman.

“Sorry for making it awkward.” Your fingers interlock with each other and you give him an apologetic look.

Mark immediately shakes his head. “No, you didn’t make anything awkward… It was me. I got-”

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, trying to find another way out of this as two thirds of his sentence has already been put out.

“You got..?”

He puts on a tight-lipped smile but it looks pained. “I just wanna say that I’m sorry for getting defensive for no reason.”

He thinks that was a good excuse for his detour but you’re smart.

“Jealous.” You say firmly.

“Huh?” He squeaks and immediately clears his throat.

“You got jealous.” You shrug your shoulders and move the whip cream in your milkshake around with the straw.

He scoffs with the intention of obscurity. “That- I- What? Pfft, jealous. Who, me?! Yeah, right.”

His stuttering erupts a snort from you, an “I told you so” fresh on the tip of your tongue.

He wanted to spout declarations of how incorrect you are but he couldn’t. The cat had his tongue.

“Whatever.” He bites with little heat.

He crosses his arms over his chest and appears to look unaffected by your ability to see through him.

“Mkay.” You hum to tease him.

Your best friend groans and you giggle at him slouching down in his seat, his hands covering his face and in turn; a sheepish grin.

You’re in your home when your TV bears awful news.

“Breaking news: intruders that look like multiple Invincibles are wreaking havoc across the globe.”

As soon as you hear that, a loud boom is heard from across the city and sends shockwaves to where you are.

“We urge you to stay in your homes and hide. Do not make contact, I repeat; don’t engage with them.”

You’re scared.

How the hell are you supposed to stay hidden in your home when there’s the start of destruction visible outside?

How can they tell you to stay inside when there’s a chance you can die in there?

It’s not like the variants aren’t gonna come inside. Who’d stop them from hurling your place of residence like a football?

Despite all of those thoughts, you stay inside.

You hide in your living room. You sigh to yourself as you hide inside a spare closet, leaving a sliver of space open to breathe.

You turn your phone’s ringer off but feel the vibrations in your pocket. You look to see who it could be and feel so much relief flood your stomach when it’s Mark.

“Mark?” You say shakily.

“Y/n? Oh, thank god. Where are you?”

Your eyes water but you keep them at bay. No point in crying over spilled milk.

“I’m in the spare closet of the living room, what’s going on?”

He starts to explain when the call abruptly cuts.

So fucking cliche you think as you the see the dead battery sign.

The sound of a window opening makes you heave out a sigh of relief.

You get out and are about to hug him but the first thing you notice when you open the door is his face. Er, the lack thereof.

“Is… this a new costume?” You ask wearily.

You didn’t know Mark had a black mask installed. It covered his whole head and the lens was turquoise blue instead of white.

He just stares at you, unflinching and scarily still.

You gulp as the realization sets in your stomach.

This isn’t the Mark of your world. This isn’t the Invincible you recognize.

The masked stranger can sense your irregular heartbeat and hear the small panicked breaths that well up in your chest.

He slowly stalks towards you; like a predator to their prey, except there’s nothing dangerous about his stance. He doesn’t radiate harm or anger and he puts his hands up, as if to show you he won’t harm you.

For your own sake, you don’t believe that. You can’t believe that’s what he wants.

You’re frozen, wide eyes filled to the brim with fear and shock.

You grip your phone tight in your hands, ready to turn it into a weapon if you must.

He’s interrupted when another one shows up.

This one has a black and yellow suit with a yellow cape.

Your eyes dart to his figure and you’re sure this one’s gonna do the honors.

“You’re alive.” He says to himself.

His eyes are covered with white lenses but you know he’s looking at you.

His hands ball up into fists and he walks to you with an urgency in his stride.

You instinctually back up and hit a wall when the masked variant gets in between you both.

“She’s scared.”

The tone in his voice almost makes you think he cares. Almost.

“Get out of my way.” The bright-caped intruder basically spat his face.

“And let youuu have all the fun? I don’t think so!”

What the fuck?

You see what looks like Mark… in a mohawk.

His lips spread into a smirk, a cocky tone in his words.

Your nails press into your arm to prevent you from sputtering out a giggle.

How are you supposed to take him seriously when he’s willingly sporting a mohawk? Right.

If you knew there was going to come a time where your home is used as some sort of Invincible convention, you would’ve moved out a long time ago.

“You’re here.”

This one scares you a little.

His demeanor may be softer but his eyes, they’re wild with a fire furling around his pupils.

What makes the fear prick at your heart is the fact that he’s wearing the Viltrumite uniform.

Wherever he came from, he became his father.

That fact chills your bones and you think, how could that happen? Why did that happen?

His wild eyes are wide with surprise and there’s the ghost of a relieved smile on his face.

Very quickly have you gone from 0 to 100.

There are 2 seemingly decent Invincibles and 2 Invincibles that give off evil vibes.

What’s better news is that they all have some sort of fascination with you.

Awesome! Fantastic, even!

Your adrenaline has taken a back seat but you’re still unnerved by the destruction just outside your neighborhood.

You’ve never wished for a quicker death as this cat and mouse game is becoming all too much. The anticipation will kill you if they don’t.

“Alright,” Mohawk Mark yawns. “Enough dickin’ around.”

The 4 variants surround you, encasing you in an otherwise unbreakable square.

“You’re coming with us.” Decides the caped crusader.

He puts his hand out to grab you but is thrown through a wall by an unstoppable force.

It feels a bit blurry after that.

You feel yourself being lifted and moving at an alarming speed, your body lurching forward and side to side by the breeze taking you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He murmurs.

He hugs you close to his chest, a hand cradling the back of your head and the other clutching your back protectively.

“M-Mark?”

You find your voice amongst the dizziness clouding your head.

He holds your head and tilts it towards him, kissing the crown and meeting your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay, you’ll be fine. Just stay here.”

You hold his wrists and blink, looking around you to find yourself with Debbie and her boyfriend, Paul.

“Please.”

Mark’s desperation appeals to you. His voice cracks with an urgency for your life. One that is begging you to listen, and you do.

“Okay.” You agree.

He nods and kisses you once again, a sweet promise pressed against your forehead.

You may have had the wind knocked out of you but that doesn’t mean you’re unaware.

Oh yeah, that kiss sobers you up real quick.

Your eyes are wide and cheeks are warm; you’re flushed and hope he doesn’t detect the jump in your heart rate because of his tenderness for you.

“Be careful.” You blurt out.

Mark looks back at you with a smirk on his face.

“I will.”

He kept his promise for the most part.

“Ow.”

“Maybe don’t move around a lot?”

“…Sorry.”

He winces as you treat his facial wounds.

Mark got pretty banged up; his left eye was swollen and purple from Conquests fists. He has similar shades of bruising on his face and a nasty cut on the bridge of his nose, another on the corner of his lip.

His arms and leg are almost fully healed.

It’s been a grueling 2 weeks.

Oliver helps out as much as he can.

Eve and the rest of the heroes are helping piece the cities back together but no matter how much they help rebuild, the atrocities committed won’t be forgotten.

Conquest was here on a personal mission and almost leveled the state because of it and roughed up Oliver pretty badly.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You hear him, you hear the things he wants to say and the things he doesn’t say out loud.

You feel so bad, so awful for him. He’s still a kid trying his hardest, doing his best.

Why can’t that be enough?

“It isn’t fair.” You respond.

His gaze turns to you.

“You do your best and when you think it’s over, the worst is still yet to come.”

Your fingers lightly touch the one of many bruises on his cheek, his eyes close at the contact.

“I can’t imagine how many times you’ve had pieces of you broken for us but it’s a sacrifice that unfortunately comes with the job.”

It hurt your heart, saying the second part.

Hard truths are a pill you’ll always find difficult to give.

He sharply inhales and the tears he tried so hard holding, come pouring down. Soft sobs and wails plague his throat.

His head falls atop your chest and his hands wrap around your middle, clinging to your shirt.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you do your best to ground him, to be his anchor.

His mental state is unimaginable, the thought of him slipping away has been a reoccurring nightmare for you but you push through. You have to.

“So many people died.”

The death toll worldwide was into the hundreds of thousands. That was the doing of the variants but Mark was inadvertently responsible, too.

It breaks your heart at how unfair this all is.

A Viltrumite’s personal vendetta against Mark resulted in such catastrophe.

Scott -also known as Powerplex- fried his only family left and somehow thinks that is also Mark’s fault.

As if the Chicago Incident wasn’t enough, there was almost a Chicago Incident Part 2 had it not been for Eve.

“You can’t blame yourself Angstrom’s doing.” You try to reason.

Mark shakes his head and gets up.

“I thought I killed him, but I should’ve been sure. I should’ve finished the job.”

Mark palms at his wet eyes, sniffling lightly as he calms down.

You don’t know what to do, you don’t know what to say.

You don’t want him to wallow in this pain by himself but you also don’t want to say something wrong.

“You should leave.” His cold tone and neutral face really sells it.

You’re confused. “What? I’m sorry, was it something I said? Or did?”

You’ve never seen him like this and are worried the wretched day you’ve been imagining is finally here.

“No. I just want you to go.”

You watch his fists bunch up the material of his joggers on his knees and the veins protruding from his hands.

“I…”

You want to say something, you want to stay for him but you can’t. You know it’d only make things worse.

So you just nod and whisper a meek, “Okay.”.

Mark still isn’t looking at you when you make your way to the door. His face still expressionless, calculated, distant.

Your fingers reach for the handle when you hear him.

“Y/n?”

It’s embarrassing how quick hope flashes in your eyes at the sound of him saying your name.

You try to suppress the obvious reaction as much as possible.

“Yeah?”

It still seeps through your voice but you’re human.

Your emotions are a part of you, even if they end up being a helping hand to your disappointment.

You don’t see the pool of guilt swirl around in his almost annoyed eyes but maybe it’s for the better.

He stares at you and feels bad but after everything that’s happened, is it worth keeping you in his life?

He wants to tell you so badly what’s making him push you away.

Sure, William is his best friend but you’re so much more. You’re a part of him, you’re his soulmate.

Mark wants nothing more than to see you happy but he ultimately decides that it’s nothing compared to seeing you alive.

“Can you close my door all the way?” He begrudgingly says.

The average person would blame him for pushing you away, him getting your hopes up only to crush them so inadvertently cruelly.

But you only chastise yourself.

You want him to know that despite people like Scott or Angstrom; who put the blame on wrong people for their circumstantial demise, there's people like you and Debbie.

He has a support system ready to recharge him but maybe you were overcharging him?

You go to sleep in tears, crying silently to yourself over how fucked life is.

Mark doesn't sleep the whole night, knowing he can hear your heart break.

It's been a slow week.

You don't talk to anyone or do things you used to; only getting up to go to class and eat, do some occasional grocery shopping.

You make an excuse for Amber and Eve when they text you to meet up and watch their caller ID's flash across your phone before it rings all the way through.

Mark hasn't spoken to you at all. No call, no text.

Despite him quitting school, you used to see him all the time on campus. Whether it be for you or William or Rick.

Now, you don't meet with anyone.

“She doesn't wanna talk to me or Amber anymore.” Eve voiced one day.

"Nor us." Rick pointed towards him and William.

“Something’s wrong. I'm worried about her.” Amber adds as she comes across the last message you sent in the group chat with her and Eve.

hey guys, just going through the flu rn. i’m fine tho! no worries :)

But of course they worried. They're your friends and that's what friends do.

Which is exactly what they said when they arrived at your doorstep, so you can't afford another excuse.

Your duo sits on your bed, trying to come up with a solution to best help you out.

“He’s closed off and maybe that was expected, but it's been a week.” Amber says.

“Yeah, you'd think he'd open up by now.”

You sigh pitifully and look out your window and down the street.

You’re a 10 minute drive and he’s a 1 minute flight away, yet nobody is willing to close that distance.

“It should be him, though.” Eve says.

“Hm?” You hum absentmindedly.

“Mark should be the one to come talk to you, not the other way around.”

Eve gauges for a reaction from you, one that will oppose her idea.

“Maybe you should go.” She switches up.

You look at Eve hesitantly, like it's a flop idea.

“You tried, Y/n. You did your part and he let you know but this isn’t the way things between you should end. Should he want it to end.”

It's like Amber knew what you were thinking and tried to dismiss the thought for you.

You weren't gonna lie and say that you haven't thought about blowing up his phone, driving to his house and banging on his door to open up to you.

But would he even want to? Would he even listen?

“It's not about what he wants, it's about what he needs.”

“And what he needs right now, is you.”

- MEANWHILE, WITH WILLIAM, RICK & REX -

“Come on, man. Don't be like this.” William tries.

Rick can see how much Mark is beating himself up over everything that’s happened.

With the fight against Liu’s dragon and Powerplex. And now recently, Conquest.

Mark never complained, it was the job. But you made getting back out on the field a bit easier.

“It's not worth losing her.” Rick gently reminds.

Mark's trio of lending hands have come to his service but it's unwanted, and Mark lets them know.

“Look, I don't need this. Especially not right now.”

This makes Rex mad.

“Oh you don’t need this? Well, excuseee me! We don’t need you to be so goddamn stupid, especially not right now.”

Mark narrows his eyes, visibly agitated. “Stupid? I’m being stupid?”

Rex widens his eyes, his pitch growing higher. “Yeah! That’s what I said.”

“Okay, I think we’re elevating the situation so let’s all just calm down.” William suggests nervously.

Mark has other thoughts as he rises from the bed. “And how exactly am I being stupid?”

Rex knows he shouldn’t be egging him on, he shouldn’t be encouraging his anger; but if this was the way to make his friend see his foolishness then so be it.

“By distancing yourself from the one woman who’s nice enough to let you, instead of manning up and telling her how you really feel.”

That stung.

“You don’t get to tell me how to handle my love life.”

Rex smirks lazily, a hardball on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t even have the balls to have one.”

“Rex.” William warns.

The cheeky bastard ignores him and continues on, a bit excited to see where this would all lead.

“I think she’d want a man who sees her, who doesn’t hurt her by ignoring her entire existence.”

Rick facepalms himself and wonders where the line between bravery and stupid was drawn.

Mark’s knuckles are white from how hard his fingers are curling in on themselves, his fists ready to pound into the explosive asshole.

Rex steps closer, now toe-to-toe with Mark and ignorantly unafraid. “I wouldn’t make her wait.”

Mark punches him right in the mouth, hard.

“Mark!” The yell of his friends fall on deaf ears.

Rex grunts as he stumbles back a bit, expecting this outcome.

“You don’t know her. You don’t know what’s good for her.” Mark spits bitterly.

Rex spits some blood out, sighing heavily. “You do.”

That makes Mark soften up.

He blinks like he’s snapped out of a trance. His fist wavers and is set down beside his thigh, a deep sigh exiting his nose. He looks at his friend and witnesses the ugly truth; his jealousy won.

“What am I doing?” He whispers.

Rex coughs lightly, the cut on his lip stinging.

“Talk to her, Mark. Don’t let her live with the regret of not knowing.”

Rick puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, hoping this will finally tip him over the edge.

Rex comes off the wall, slapping Mark’s back with a warm pat.

“I’m sorry, Rex. I shouldn’t have-”

He dismisses him with a wave. “Nah, I was being an asshole. An asshole on purpose, but still an asshole.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’re gathering the courage to mull over the most impactful relationship in your life.

Is there even a correct way to do that?

You don’t know, but what you do know is that you have to try.

You look yourself in the mirror and feel the weight of your younger self.

She’d be devastated. you think. If she were here in the flesh to see this, you don’t think she could withstand it.

A sharp knock to your door pulls you out of your head.

You’re not expecting anyone, and you’re unsure about the one person you did want to hear from.

Regardless, you walk over and open the door and your heart drops out of your ass. Not in fear, but in surprise.

“Mark.” You breathe.

Here he is; in the flesh and without the scowl you picture. In fact, he looks guilty.

His once glee-filled eyes are now empty of it, making you reminisce the time before last week.

“Can I come in?”

His voice resounding of forlorn hope. He expects you to deny him, to make him walk away with his hands held in a helpless prayer.

Instead, you show him mercy and welcome him inside your place of refuge.

Tentatively, he makes his way inside and awkwardly stands beside your desk.

You’re quiet, still trying to process his presence after an entire week of radio silence.

You don’t know how to feel. Should you be happy? Ecstatic? If anything, frustrated and hurt are also a great couple of options.

“Y/n?”

You look up at him and see his concerned face. “Hm?”

“I asked if we can talk.”

“Now you want to talk?” It came out before you could even think about it.

Your annoyance seeps through and he shuffles the weight on his feet a bit uncomfortably.

“I know-”

“No, you don’t.”

He looks at you like you just told him to kill himself.

“Y/n, please. Just hear me out.”

Your arms are crossed over your chest in a defensive position, he clocks that. He also notices the way you make eye contact with him throughout your sentences.

You were really hurt, he gathers.

He takes your silence as a sign to continue talking.

“After I left you at Paul’s, I went back out there and fought off the rest of those… variants. While I was fighting them, they told me about you.”

Your interest is absolutely peaked now.

“What do you mean?”

“They... they said that you existed in their world but-” He cuts himself off with a vexed sigh.

“But what, Mark.”

You want, need to know what was worth hurting you for days on end.

Mark looks at you and it's the most disheartened he's looked since that night he told you to leave.

“You died, Y/n.”

It all makes sense now. You grapple with the stomach-churning epiphany of the century.

The different Invincibles that wanted to take you was simply because you ceased to exist in their worlds.

“I... I died in every single universe.”

He takes some steps in your direction, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“You either died on accident by being murdered among civilians or you killed yourself.”

“Why would I commit suicide?”

He deeply inhales. “Because you'd rather die than join the other me.”

That sounds on brand.

“I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd lose you in this world, too.” He admits raspily.

That touches your heart.

You want to hug him, to comfort him but you're still kind of confused. You needed more answers.

“I was so scared, I had never felt fear like I did when I saw them with you.” He whispers.

“Why'd you tell me to leave?” You ask gently.

“Because I love you.”

His confession is so light, said with such helplessness, that you tear up.

Mark maintains eye contact with you, tired of hiding his true self. He wants you to see him.

“So many people have died because of me, it may not be directly my fault, but it still had to do with me.”

He comes a little closer, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“What if I was too late that day? What if they managed to take you away?” He mutters in a hushed tone.

Mark shakes his head as if to get rid of those thoughts.

“If anything happens to you, it will be because of me.”

“So, you thought it was best to create such a large gap between us, that there'd be a sinking hole inside of me. Is that it?”

Your eyes well up against your will but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he can finally see just how much you've been suffering.

“You think I wanted to do that?” He asks defensively.

You scoff indignantly. “I think you could've told me from the jump. That's what I think.”

You know it's a little unfair given how vulnerable he's being right now but he was unfair when you were vulnerable, too.

He shakes his head, eyes closing in on themselves as his tears threaten to fall. “I can't risk your life, Y/n! Why don't you understand that?”

You messily wipe your tears, your lashes wet and nose tinged with the lightest of reds.

“All this time, you didn't have a problem with how close we were. Now that you saw how close I was to something dangerous, it got too real for you?!”

He's in your space now, his chin set down and eyes on yours.

Contrary to how mad he looks, he relays his message in an low tone. “Yeah. It did.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the length he's cut between your bodies and you're back in time. You go back to the moment he almost kissed you.

“Don't push me away, Mark.”

You beg him and you don't care if you look pathetic. You love him and don't want to lose him like this.

Mark just presses his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes, he concentrates on you. Your smell, your hushed breaths, your heartbeat.

You feel his hands slide up and down your arms, grounding you.

Even when he's opening up to you, Mark still chooses to comfort you. He still wants to calm you down, to make you feel better. He still chooses to have your best interests at heart.

“I came here to tell you the truth, that you deserve better.”

You wordlessly deny his idea, shaking your head once.

He grabs ahold of your head, making you look at him.

You see it all, you see all of his pain, grief, anger.

“I love you but you're not safe with me.”

“You don't get to make my decision for me.” You stubbornly point out.

“Y/n-”

“I love you.” A shaky whisper snuck into the air between your lips.

His wide eyes stare back at yours in surprise.

“I've loved you for a long time and I don't wanna be in love with another.” You wrap your hands around his, feeling the warmth bloom onto your cold ones.

“Please. Please don't ask me to stay away from you.” You cry.

He kisses your head and brings you close, your head on his shoulder and slotting between his bicep and forearm. He curls his other arm around your waist and lays his head on yours.

“Okay, fine.” He fondly agrees. “You win so stop crying.”

“Fuck you.” You jab.

He airily laughs and brings your face close to his, pressing an equally feathery kiss to your lips.

You timidly kiss him, shying away a little to breathe but Mark wants you to take his breath if you must. He pulls you in, hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him, wanting to shape a new mold from your figures.

Your fingers nervously brush his hair and he groans at the contact.

You chuckle at the sound and he pulls away leaving a soft peck.

He's in a daze and has hearts in his eyes but he ultimately decides; he wouldn't want it any other way.

2K notes · View notes

suhkusa · 9 months ago

Text

THE KISS BET.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Your friends bet you to kiss Katsuki Bakugou. Fortunately for you, they’re offering you $500 for it. Unfortunately for you, the two of you absolutely hate each other.

CW. third year, angst to fluff, light hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mature humor, feelings, language

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. enjoy :3

You and your group of friends had a running gig. Bets.

The group would bet one person to do something, on a scale from normal to outrageous, and that person’s turn wouldn’t end until they complete that bet. Of course, depending on how crazy the bet is, everyone would put in some amount of money.

The most you’d gotten was $100 total from accepting a date from creep in the business class. Worst date of your life, but Jirou felt bad so she gave you an extra $50.

As the lot of you gather around the campfire, everyone offers up their money to Mina who had just done her bet to put laxatives in Kirishima’s drink. There were a lot of questions about the morality of it, but you ignored it and gave her a crisp $20.

“Y/N~ it’s your turn!” Ochako gleed.

You roll your eyes, “I feel like I just did my other bet, which by the way was shit,” the girls laugh at your words. “I feel like all of you get the easier ones,”

“Easy? I had to kiss Monoma, do you know how hard that was? He knows I’m lesbian so imagine how hard that was for me to convince him,” Yaoyorozu sighs with a palm to her face.

“Oh, whatever,” Mina says with a clap of her hands, “You want a hard one, Y/N?”

“I mean that’s the whole point of paying each other to do bets, they’re supposed to be hard,”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mina smirks before standing up and pointing at you.

“I bet you $100,” your ears perk up.

“-to kiss–,” your eyes widen but listen nonetheless.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” your world falls apart.

“Mina, no,”

“Y/N, yes,” she jumps up and down, “It’s too late, I already said it,”

All the other girls are hooting and hollering, but you just sit there in silence as you stare at the flames. Are you really going to try this?

As you consider your options the other girls start placing their bet offerings.

“$75 from me,” Tsuyu calls out.

Then from Hagakure, “$50,”

“$150,” from none other than Yaoyorozu.

“I guess I’ll put in $80,” Jirou smiles at your misery.

“Hmm, I’ll even it out with $45, so $500 flat for you, Y/N,” Ochako smiles.

$500?!? You’d be outright stupid to deny such a big amount of money. But you’d even stupider to think Katsuki Bakugou would kiss you of all people.

“I think that’s impossible,” you whine as the other girls poke fun at you.

“I guess only time will tell,” Mina grabs your hands and smiles, “Good luck, Y/N,”

—

You can hear the rambunctiousness of your class before you walk in. When you walk through the doors, your eyes scan the class before your eyes lock in on Katsuki Bakugou. You groan with a roll of your eyes before stomping your way towards him.

“Hey, Katsuki,” you stare down at him, “You want to do me a favor,”

“For you? I rather eat shit,” he grumbles as he meets your gaze.

“You’re a freak,” you already knew this was going to be hard, “Please,”

“Mm, depends, what’s in it for me?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” you say. “Kiss me,”

It feels like the class goes silent as the two of you continue to just stare at each other. He opens his mouth then closes it.

“You– The fuck?” His eyes are scattering as the words continue to process through his mind, “What a weirdo, hell no,” then he’s pushing himself out of his seat and making his way to the door.

“You know class starts in 5 minutes right?” you call to him.

“Fuck off,” he grunts as he shuts the door behind him.

Yep, definitely hard.

—

The next time you bother Bakugou for a kiss is when the two of you are paired up for combat training. Much against his will.

“Katsuki~” you call out as you dodge another blow from him. “You can’t avoid me forever,”

“Yes-” another explosion, “I can,”

You go on the offense as you continue, “Just a peck, please. I’m a good kisser, I promise,”

“You’re shit,” he’s grumbling between dodges of your attacks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you send him a wink before getting a hit on him.

Bakugou groans, about to send another remark, when the training ends with a blow of a whistle.

The two of you meet eyes one last time, “Think it over, kay?” you smile before walking away.

—

Knock, knock.

You stand at Bakugou’s door.

“Go away, perv,”

“Aw, how did you know it was me? You missed me?”

“I can just tell by the stench,”

You laugh a little at his words, “Please, let me explain to you and maybe you’ll reconsider,”

You can hear footsteps, and you smile. When he opens the door he’s adorned in his classic black tank and some sweats.

“You should put some clothes on, perv,” you mock. “Anyways, it was a bet from my friends and there’s $500 on the line, so if you would just–”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, princess,” the nickname causes you to fluster, but you shake it off as he continues, “You gotta earn it,”

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face, and you didn’t even realize it but he’s definitely leaning closer to you. It’s sending butterflies– well maybe more like moths– into your stomach.

“What the– You’re definitely the pervert. I’m just going to ask to call it off,” you fake gag, “Later, loser,”

“You’ll be back, nerd,”

You internally groan as you hear him shut the door, ignoring the intense heartbeat in your chest.

—

“No,” Mina says.

“What?! I told you it’s impossible,” you argue, all of your friends on the other side of the argument.

“No it’s not, he said you had to earn it right?” Mina retorts, “So obviously there’s a way, you’re just stubborn,”

“You’re really not asking me to… You guys are crazy. Please, please, I’ll take anyone else, anything else,”

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s the rules,” Tsuyu looks at you with pity.

“He hates me and I hate him! That’s all there is to it. It’s not going to happen,”

“Why do you guys even hate each other? It’s our third year, get over it already,” Jirou teases.

“Because he’s a dick and I refuse to let him walk all over me! I just cursed him out one time for calling me weak. He’s the one who holds grudges because of his fragile, little heart,”

“You should’ve known he’d hold that against you, but I honestly doubt he hates you because of that,” Mina says. “He probably thought you looked hot,” she laughs.

Heat rushes to the tips of your eyes, “Whatever, all of you are weirdos. But anyways-”

“No, Y/N,” Mina states, end of subject.

“You all just want me to kill myself,” you groan as you sink into the couch. “Whatever, but I’m going to force all of you to double your offering if I actually do this shit,”

The girls cheer. You cry inside. Anything for money, you guess.

—

It seems like the universe heard about the predicament you were in, because it felt like you were suddenly around him more often ever since the bet had been set.

“You know, I don’t want to be on patrol with you either,” you grumble, kicking at rocks as the two of you walk up and down the roads of the dorms.

“Glad we agree,”

Silence washes over you both.

“Why don’t you want to kiss me? Am I ugly or something?” you ask, but it definitely comes off sadder than you intend.

“Don’t get all insecure because you don’t get a stupid kiss,” he looks the opposite direction of yours, “You know damn well you’re not ugly, so don’t piss me off,”

He had a strange way of saying stuff.

“Aw, you love me, don’t you?” you tease, poking at his arm.

“Ah you dumbass, pay attention,” you snap back into place with a laugh, “‘M just saying you’re better looking than some of these extras,”

You don’t know what to say in response to his words. Because they were surprisingly very sweet.

Realizing he had said too much, he changes the subject. “Let’s go this way,”

You follow him with a nod.

There was definitely a certain type of tension lingering that the two of you walked in near silence for the rest of the patrol.

You definitely were not repeating back his words in your head over and over again for the rest of the patrol. And Katsuki Bakugou was definitely not turning red because of what he said earlier. Definitely not.

—

After that patrol, things seemed to sort of shift between the two of you. And to say it was scary was an understatement.

Conversations wouldn’t always start off with the two of you insulting or cursing each other out. There’d be a hey or hello. If you guys saw each other in passing, he’d greet you with a nod of his head. Him being anything but passive aggressive towards you was terrifying because it was so not him.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out to you, you groan as you put your pencil down.

“I’m studying, what do you want, Katsuki?”

“Come with me to the movies after school today,” it’s not really a question, more like a command.

You put your hands to your mouth in fake(?) excitement, “You’re asking me on a date?! So kind, Katsuki,”

“It’s not a date, idiot. I’m going with Ei and Denki later, they’re bringing Jirou and Mina. They were teasing me for not bringing anyone, so come,”

“If I don’t?” you muse.

“Be there or be square, nerd,” he doesn’t take your bait, but you can tell he’d prefer it if you go. He walks away before you can respond.

Well, you guess you have plans later.

;;;

You meet up with the lot of them at the allotted time. The group walks together, and you thank God your friends have a questionable taste in men so you wouldn’t be stuck with some randos. But you also have half a mind to curse them out for leaving you to fend for yourself when you all arrive at the theater.

They left you with no choice but to sit with Bakugou. Part of you really hates it, but not as much as you hate the rate at which your heart beats.

For the most part, the two of you just sit there in awkwardness. The other couples indulge in that lovey dovey shit, and it makes you feel out of place. You zone out and get into your head. Was there a motive in asking you to come out here? He could’ve invited like… Midoriya… or Ochako… Or anyone, really. But, you? Does he like you? Or were you his last option to invite? Your head hurts from overthinking.

Your hand rests in your lap, picking at the material of your pants. At least that’s what it was doing. Until it happened.

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bakugou slid his hand into yours. His fingers finding a comfortable place between your own. You release a deep breath when you realize you were holding your breath. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Despite your efforts to try and justify how much you absolutely hate it. You didn’t even try to stop him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t let his hand go. And even as the movie ended, you actually felt sad when he slid his hand away.

The cool air of the night shocked you a bit when all of you made it outside.

“We were thinking of grabbing a bite, did you guys want to come?” Mina exclaims.

“Ooh, that sounds good, are you down, Jirou?”

“Sure, and you guys?” they all look at you.

“I- I have a stomach ache… Butter fucks with my stomach really bad,” the excuse is kind of weak, but still holds up as they all nod in understanding.

“I can walk you to the dorm,” Bakugou offers, and you don’t really give him a yes or no, he just follows you.

Kirishima and Mina whistle and holler as the two of you part ways with the rest of them.

Part of you regrets making up some stupid lie to go home. Because this was way more awkward than getting free pizza.

The two of you are right by each other as you walk in silence towards the dorm. You wait. And wait. Wait for him to bring it up. Why did he do that? Why did he grab your hand? Was it all a front?

Why is he treating you so well?

Even as he drops you off at your room, he says nothing. Just a simple “Goodnight,” before he’s making his way to the elevator.

What an asshole.

—

So you take the initiative. The initiative in ignoring him. You weren’t some casual fling. Fuck the bet, fuck him.

When you saw him making his way towards you, you were quick to get up and rush out of the classroom. When he nodded your directions in passing, it was easy to just walk past and not acknowledge him. Whatever there was between you and him, was gone. Whatever “it” was, exactly.

But you were okay. You guess. You were down $500 or $1000, but whatever. That game was bullshit anyways. You always got the worst bets. You kind of felt bad that you were the end of it, though.

It was easy to avoid him. That’s what you thought. At least until one week later, you found yourself cornered by your dorm room with nowhere to go.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he’s angry, you’d be stupid if you thought otherwise.

You cross your arms and avoid his intense gaze, “Whatever do you mean?”

He’s getting closer, and a tiny, like miniscule, part of you finds angry-him hot. “You know what the hell I mean, you’ve been avoiding me,”

“Nuh uh,” you retort, still avoiding the subject at hand. “I’ve just been busy, sorry,”

“Like hell, Racoon Eyes said you’ve been in your dorm room everyday, so try again, asshat,”

Fucking Mina.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you poke at his chest, “Now get out of my way before I beat your ass,”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he’s smiling with mockery.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like to be touched by me, you little virgin,” you inspect your nails in nonchalance, “Too bad, so sad, now move,”

“No, not until you answer me,” he’s a bit more serious now, you can sense it in his tone.

You groan, “Fine, not until you answer me, though. Why the fuck did you hold my hand and act like it didn’t happen? Am I like a joke to you?”

He straightens up and his eyes widen. He looks to the side, then back at you.

“You’re fuckin’ smart, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You’re not a baby, why don’t you use your words?”

You got him there.

“Maybe ‘cuz I like you, or something, idiot,”

You laugh. Laugh. Because he really thought you’d believe a stupid joke like that.

“You’re funny, but seriously, why did–”

A kiss. Katsuki Bakugou has always been known for his speed and his wit. But now you see it more than ever. As he steals a kiss from you. It happens faster than you’re able to even realize you’re leaning into it.

When the two of you part, it’s tense again. You don’t know if you should say something but he takes that choice from you.

“You think that was funny?” he asks.

“Well- no, but–”

“No buts, that’s that,”

“I didn’t even say I like you back! What if I didn’t-”

“Oh, so you do?” you jump up in realization you fumbled your words. “Good to know, princess,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. How was I supposed to know you liked me? You’re such an asshole, you know?”

“Really? Because this asshole just got you some cash,” he laughs referring to the bet, “But y’know, I don’t let just anyone call me Katsuki,”

You grit your teeth before throwing a punch at his arm, “Annoying! Annoying, so annoying,”

Another hearty laugh escapes from his lips as he pulls you into a hug. You didn’t even know Bakugou gave hugs. But you don’t mind it.

“You’re such a pervert, I bet you’ve been looking forward to that kiss,” he teases.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pervert for even kissing me in the first place,”

—

YOU: pay up bitches

YOU: i’m talking double btw

[164 new notifications]

You were rich and in love. What more could you ask for?

#bnha angst #bakugou angst #bakugo angst #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader angst #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha angst #raeworks

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thewritingfairy · 1 month ago

Text

જ⁀➴Nobody's child

Inspired by @acid-ixx (undoing fate) (again & again), @rizzanon (undoing fate), @nikovraskol (crack baby)

main m.list

↪ READER NOTES

-> disabled reader, reader's non-binary but hasn't come out yet, due to this pronouns she/they will be used.

↪ TRIGGER WARNINGS

-> emotional + physical + medical neglect, kidnapping, explosive anger, misgendering, grieve, mentions of murder, there will be individual trigger warnings on each chapter, more might be added

↪ SUMMARY

Sometimes pain can be an ephipany and bring perspective in someone's life.

In your case it finally made you stop chasing your family's love. It changed you, yes. But it did so for the better.

Just too bad that you needed to change before your 'father' and 'siblings' noticed what was wrong, and for that wrong to finally teach them you were always deserving of love and now you'll make your own story line.

↪ CHAPTERS

00. A plan to live

01. A job to pay the bills

02. A job interview gone right

03. To the ones that love you fully

04. Distraction is the best medication

05. Tim doesn't understand you

06. Your first day at work

07. An explosion of emotions

08. A state of dreams

09. Oh no!

10. Duke is done

11. Something is wrong

12. Confrontation gone wrong!

13. Damian attempts self-reflection

↪ SIDE STORIES

Jason's crime

Duke and (Name)

↪ DRABBLES, ONESHOTS

au: Poetic justice

↪ ASKS

🪷anon 1 2 3 4 5

😶‍🌫️ anon 1 2 3

Realization and forgiveness

Tim cares (😶‍🌫️ anon)

Massive ick

Reader working with the villains

heirlooms

Will your friends be yandere?

Romance?

Counting days (😶‍🌫️ anon)

Tim 1 2

Incorrect quotes

They'll get worse

The worst yandere

Alfred's title

Abusive

↪ TAGLIST

@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

TAGLIST CLOSED

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #neglected reader #batfam x reader #batfam x neglected reader #☾ thewritingfairy #masterpost

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pandoraspurgatory · 7 months ago

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What Friends are for

Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader. Katsuki cant masturbate, and it’s up you to help him out<3

I’ve been utterly obsessed with this headcanon since I saw it on AO3, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do

Cw: Masturbation, FWB, BJ, Ball play, Slightly Submissive Katsuki, only slightly MINORS DNI

Being insatiably horny with no release, was a frustrating situation for anybody, though for Katsuki it was worse, bordering on making him insane. He heard it all the time, his friends constantly spouting “just jerk off, it’ll calm you down!” And similiar nonsense that made his blood boil. As if jerking off could change the course of the planet like his classmates chalked it up to be.

It was hard to ignore though, the United Alliance dorms had been a cesspit of horny young adults since the 1st year. Though now the class were in their 3rd year of Class 1A and were all 18; Sex was the hot topic of the year.

He didn’t understand the logic behind it, but somehow once everyone became legal adults, the taboo flew out the window and immersed itself as casual conversation.

It was only last month that Denki and Kirishima made an attempt at the infamous ‘No Nut November”. Katsuki never bothered to ask how long they lasted, though was tempted to join the class betting pool on who would loose first.

Though in hindsight the NNN betting pool was a horrific idea, with half the class trying to set up Kirishima, and half the class trying to set up Denki. Katsuki is confident he never wants to see Mina dressed up as Midnight again after that ordeal, or Mineta in a maid costume.

He wouldn’t admit it within an inch of his life, but Katsuki had never successfully touched himself. There were multiple attempts of humping into his mattress, grinding himself against his pillow and even a weird porn meditation thing he found that was supposed to make him ‘cum with his mind’. It failed miserably, he doesn’t like to think about it.

The issue is his quirk, he can only stroke and pump himself for about 30 seconds until his palms start to spark and he ends up with burns all over his shaft. There are the options of hand free masturbating tools made for people with the same predicaments, though he couldn’t bare the humiliation if his classmates ever found out about it.

It wasn’t until he bit the bullet and tried to do it again. It happened like clockwork every few months, and it always ended the same unsatisfying and painful way.

It was 1am in the morning. Katsuki was rarely up this time of the night, but this particular morning he woke up with a painfully hard erection and his dick dripping precum from a rather erotic dream he had.

A wall away, you slept soundly in your bed, covers snug up to your chin as your heated mattress protecter added extra comfort to your needed slumber. Though that peacefulness was soon interrupted by the sound of small explosions and a frustrated groan coming from the wall opposite your bed.

Having Bakugo Katsuki as a dorm room neighbour was usually pleasant. Though despite his crude personality and edgy nature; he was a clean, quiet and reserved person. Respecting the quiet curfew of the dorms.

Hence why hearing him in distress was out of the ordinary, you shot up in bed, listening for more noises as you quickly emerged from your warm sheets.

Thoughts swarmed through your mind, was Bakugo sick? Having a nightmare? Lost control of his quirk?Did a villain get him?? You two were particularly close, and you came to the conclusion he couldn’t be too mad if you barged into his room at this hour. For all you knew, he could have lost control of his quirk and charred half the room by now.

Throwing on your warm oodie and a pair of slippers, you exited your dorm and walked the few metres to Bakugos door. Hesitating for moment on whether to knock or not, eventually deciding it was futile, how could he open the door and greet you if he was being attacked by a villain?

Despite expecting the dorm room to be locked shut, the door swung open after you gripped and turned the handle. Katsukis room was pitch black, only slightly lightened by the sparks emerging from his palms every few seconds.

The sound of fabric rustling and panted breaths filled your ears as you felt for the light switch, ready to activate your quirk any second incase there was actually a villain hiding somewhere around you. You finally found the switch and hit it, bright light encased the small room, revealing Katsuki sitting up on his bed.

Before you could properly stare at his horrified and bewildered face and red cheeks, your eyes caught on to the sight of his hard cock. Leaking precum into his sheets and bouncing back against his abdomen as he tried to shove it down.

He felt his aching dick twitch, he only felt himself grow harder as he looked at your face. It was grossly perverted and Katsuki damn well knew it. However it couldn’t be controlled after his vivid dream of pounding you into the mattress, the dream which brought him to his exact situation. The meek sound of your voice tore him from his racing thoughts.

“Bakugo… I’m so sorry… I thought you were in danger”

He swallowed, if he wasn’t in danger before then he definitely was now. Only god knows who you could message and call about this later, for all he knew he could go downstairs tomorrow only to be relentlessly teased for gawking at you as he sat there stark naked. He had to say something, before you-

Fuck… what? Why were you? He couldn’t believe his eyes as you walked up to where he was and sat beside him. You placed your hand over his with a small smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. His throat felt painfully dry like it was filled with cotton.

“Kats… spill it”

“Spill what idiot? That you’re creeping into my room like a crazy woman, how dare-“

“Seriously, people don’t get hard and decide to explode their room at 1 in the morning.”

This was it, the moment of truth he had spent his teenage years dreading. To top this shitshow off, he would have to tell the truth to the person who got him all hot and bothered like this in the first place. Fuck, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t admit that-

You interrupted once again.

“I’ve heard of this before, that some people get too… excited and set off their quirks when trying to pleasure themselves… is this the first time it’s happened?”

He swallowed his pride, there was no getting out of this one no matter how hard he tried.

“Try every time, I’ve never been able to fucking do it”. He growled, looking to the opposite side of the room to avoid meeting your gaze.

He began to mentally prepare himself to get the ridicule of a lifetime. Katsuki was what everyone wanted to be - strong, resilient, determined, and yet he couldn’t even jerk himself off.

“Can I help? If that’s okay…?”

The word please escaped his mouth before he could even think of a reply. He groaned as he realised how desperate he sounded for you to touch him.

Only moments later you pushed him down onto his plush mattress, wrapping your hand around his achingly hard length as it throbbed under your touch. His quiet groans quickly turning into a desperate moans as you started to stroke him at a slow pace.

The dream that awoke him only minutes earlier played back in his mind, his dick pulsated as he relished in the vision of you fucked out of your mind while his fat cock was stuffed into your soaked tight pussy.

He met your gaze through half lidded eyes, you smiled at him, signalling that it was okay. He finally felt himself relax into your warm and comforting touch, low moans escaping from his lips as you focused on rubbing his tip.

He would’ve thought by now he would’ve blown up his whole room, he wasn’t sure why his palms weren’t sparking and igniting. Though he chose not to dwell on it. Out of sight, out of mind he figured.

You stroked him slowly, trying to execute a confident demeanour despite the fact your mind was racing in a thousand different directions. You had your hands around the fat cock of Bakugo Katsuki, your only weakness and crush… no obsession of three long years. You had yet to be pushed away or blown to bits, so that had to be good news of some sort to indicate he was entranced as you were.

Your panties grew increasingly damp as you listened to his strained gasps, as much as you wanted to hop up and eagerly jump on his dick and have him make you his bitch until morning, this was about him and making him feel good.

Though it was now or never if you were going to tame the beast, slowly but surely you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his shaft. Without any warning, he bucked his hips into your face, his eyes rolled back into his head, your touch earning a whine from the back of his throat.

It took all his restraint not to fuck your throat until you were slobbering all over him like the slut he was going to make you. But his quirk hasn’t activated yet, and he wasn’t going to risk it happening in a moment like this.

You bobbed up and down, savouring his musky scent as you began to bring your focus to his throbbing tip yet again. Hollowing your cheeks as you sucked and swirled your tongue over him, tasting his slick precum.

An unexpected, high pitched whine filled your ears as you began to fondle his balls slowly, squeezing every now and then to truely give him the height of pleasure. Feeling increasingly proud of yourself as each ragged gasp emerged from him.

Katsuki couldn’t focus, completely blissed out at the exhilarating feeling of you pleasuring him with your lewd mouth. He always anticipated himself to be rough and dominant in the bedroom, though you had him trembling under your touch.

“Hnngg… feels so fucking good… keep- mhhmmm… going pretty girl”.

His husky voice was all you needed, sucking in a breath as you deepthroated his cock as you cupped and grabbed at his balls. You tried not to gag, his length was average but his girth was intense for a beginner like you. The corners of your lips aching as you struggled to envelop all of him into your mouth.

Katsuki suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair as to try and suppress the urge to immediately spill himself down your tight throat. Where the fuck you leant this, he didn’t know. His face was flushed and his hair disheveled as you continued to suck him dry.

He hoped he’d have more warning to his impending orgasm, though as he felt his legs tremble and cock pulsate in your mouth. He could only manage to mutter a heads up.

“Fu… fuck.. nhgg… cumming”

You didn’t need to think twice, you wanted to feel his thick cum in your mouth as soon as the universe would will it, but it was no fun not seeing the action. Parting your lips from his dick, you gave him a few quick pumps as he quivered, spilling over the edge.

With a final grunt and a slight convulsion, he began to shoot his cum onto your face. The feeling of how his cock pulsated with each load made you weak. He knew there was nothing more fucking beautiful than the erotic look on your face as he ejaculated onto your lips.

His climax hit him like a freight train, shockwaves calming down in his body as his cock finally finished spilling itself. He looked at you, a dorky smile on your face as you gripped his hand.

He understood it all now, and there was no fucking way in hell he would ever participate in No Nut November with you around.

#mha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha smut #boku no hero academia #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki

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bokunoheros · 8 months ago

Text

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, katsuki/reader are friends w/ benefits, they are not officially dating, pro hero!katsuki, hickies/bruises/mentions of burn marks, swearing, orgasm denial, inappropriate quirk usage, katsuki’s bad at feelings, katsuki is unreasonably jealous, erm.. light?? blood kink, it’s soft at the end though, happy kinktober everyone GENRE: SMUT & FLUFF SUMMARY: katsuki doesn’t approve of the way shouto was looking at you—even though you’re both single and he has no real claim over you. WORD COUNT: 2.7K 🦊’s A/N: i can’t believe i’m the opening act but here we are; i rlly hope you guys enjoy what we have lined up for y’all :3

katsuki bakugou is mean and rude, possessive and somewhat controlling, and an arrogant bitch. whatever he wanted, he got; whenever something was his, everybody would be sure to know it. this, of course, translated a little too naturally into his sex life.

and when it came to you? god have mercy.

“shit–! katsuki!” you whine as he bites cruelly at the tender skin of your inner thighs before sucking over the spot, making sure his teeth grazed over the sensitive, heated flesh.

“huh?” though on the quieter side, his voice was just as gruff as it always was.

“please—!” is all you’re able to breath out as the large, calloused hands forcing your legs apart begin to spark, and—ow! fuck! “katsu! what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“tch, like you don’t know,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. surely you were just playing dumb. there was no way you didn’t know what the fucking problem was. he thinks back to your little conversation with shouto earlier—where that icyhot bastard practically eyefucked you the entire time (he had not, actually; it was just katsuki’s awful, Awful jealousy and insecurities flaring up despite you two not even being an item).

all you knew, though, was that he had been like this all damn night! biting you all over your flushed body — absolutely nowhere was safe from his teeth; your neck and throat, chest and midriff—hell, he even managed to leave hickies along your ribcage for christ’s sake!—and now, he was working on your thighs.

but if all that wasn’t already enough, his hands had occupied your hips most of the time as his quirk popped off repeatedly as his grip only tightened, not only leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, but also scorch marks on the flares of your hips.

“i don’t!” you protest in vain. in your mind, your conversation with shouto hadn’t crossed your mind—so the idea that katuski might be jealous? didn’t even register.

“yeah, right,” he barks out a laugh before diving back between your legs, burying his face into the fat of your thighs, where he sucked at the horribly sensitive skin there. and when you tried to close your legs around his head? he used his fucking quirk to keep them spread!

his sweaty palms had no problem with igniting small scale explosions against your heated and tender flesh, leaving behind little burn marks in their wake.

“god—dammit, katsuki!” you wail as his mouth gets dangerously close to your cunt, just to avoid it all together. “please—just! what's wrong?!” it's all you can do to choke back frustrated tears as your fuck buddy goes about leaving his physical claim on you—while leaving you all hot and bothered in the process.

“nothing's wrong, bitch—” his voice is strained and he sounds…… almost emotional? oh shit, was something seriously the matter?

in attempt to check up on him, one of your hands comes up to tug lightly at his spiky hair so he’ll look at you, but instead, he snatches your wrist up tightly, so hard you swear there’ll be bruises soon, as he looks up at you with narrowed, fiery eyes—they seemed…. glossier than they typically were; not that he looked like he was on the verge of tears or anything, but more so that he looked visibly distraught.

“keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” he spits out, his significantly larger hand sparking and popping around your poor wrist, and you can’t help but let out a yelp.

your faux concern was starting to piss katsuki off, and he physically can’t help the way his brows twitch and furrow in anger. there was no way you were really this dumb? (hey, einstein, maybe just, and here's an idea: tell them directly!) with a snarl, he bares his teeth (like a goddamn dog) and bites down harshly against the skin of your upper inner thigh, and he only bites down harder when you squeal and yell out his name, trying to free your wrist from his bruisingly tight grip.

in a desperate attempt to get him to calm down, you meekly choke out an apology—you didn’t know what you were sorry for, but you prayed it would be enough for bakugou to quit seething and just focus on something other than his anger.

“‘ll show you sorry,” he grunts, picking a new spot on the fatty flesh of your thighs to bite down on—this time, a few tears manage to slide down your cheeks as he bites so hard, you swear to god you felt the skin tear.

“ow–! katsu–ki! jesus christ!” your free hand now comes down to try and push his head away from in between your legs as you squirm uncomfortably on the bed. your efforts are in vain, however, as he begins sucking against the freshly marred skin, sloppily laving his tongue over the spot so he could lick up the blood he had, in fact, drawn. “‘m sorry—whatever i did, i'm sorry!” you cry out pathetically, causing katsuki to pause in his actions as his eyes flit upwards to meet your glassy ones.

“that's funny, you don't look very sorry,” he comments gruffly, the hand still placed on your thigh suddenly begins to pop off and spark against your reddened flesh.

“nngh–! fuck’s sake! what has gotten into you!?”

“nothing, i told you already,” he grunts out, the corner of his lips twitching in annoyance as he looks up at you, and suddenly humping the mattress while he lays between your thighs isn’t enough for him.

before you have time to question him again, he had already moved so he was hovering over you as he had been at the beginning of your little rendezvous, and after releasing your wrist, he uses one hand to support himself while the other tugs his all too tight boxer briefs down enough for his almost painfully hard cock to spring free. and in one swift movement, he gathers both your wrists in one large hand before pinning them above your head while his free hand grabs his dick to line it up with your embarrassingly wet slit, barely getting the tip in before he just has to bottom out entirely—right up to the base as he lets out a groan louder than he’d meant to. it wasn’t like it was his fault, though! you just felt soooo good; how was he supposed to keep his cool? (not that he kept it in any other aspect of his life……)

“aa–aah! nngh–! fuck! katsuki! you—mmfgh!” your words are cut off by a kiss, however, and your eyes widen at the sudden feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours and your wrists struggle in his horribly tight grip, unsure of how to react — you had both agreed on no kissing when originally setting up boundaries during sex! truthfully, you didn’t think it would have lasted as long as it had — as you had almost kissed him several times prior, but always caught yourself before you had the chance to make a fool out of yourself — but you never would have thought katsuki would be the one to break that rule! ?!?!

arching your back as he begins to thrust his hips, slowly at first, before quickly picking up the pace, you reluctantly give in to the kiss as your chest presses against his.

katsuki, meanwhile, was buzzing with too many unfamiliar emotions to process — it wasn’t that he was a simple man per se, far from it, in fact, but his primary emotion was anger, and was one of the few ways he knew how to express himself. now, though, he finds himself in highly unfamiliar territory as his heart hammers in his chest; the last time he had been this genuinely scared was the time he had been kidnapped by the league of villains, and even then, he thinks he prefers it to the way he felt right now. the fear of rejection absolutely plagued his mind the moment his lips had crashed against yours, but it was way too fuckin’ late to change that now, so instead, he doubles down and allows his tongue to slip out and slide over the seam of your lips before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nips at it hard enough to draw the smallest bit of blood.

“nngh–!” you had no clue what the hell was wrong with katsuki until he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and, for the first time in. …? as long as you can recall, he looks so…… vulnerable, like he was scared (and he was!), and for some reason, that just broke your heart.

“just talk to me, katsuki,” you say softly, tongue flicking over your slightly bloody lip as you look up at him through thick, tear-dampened eyelashes. before you two were fuck buddies, you had managed to become good friends; given, the dynamic was a bit odd, as bakugou was not known for being a “friendly” person, let alone perceived as sociable, but. here he was! balls deep in his best friend, whom he wanted all to himself without even realizing until, well, just now, really.

“i don’t want you talking to that icyhot bastard ever again,” he finally spits out, voice nearly cracking. he keeps his shit together, though, as he continues to fuck you like he hates your guts. “you’re mine, got it?” his cheeks are flushed red (a rare sight) as he pants heavily from on top of you, embarrassed by his own words, even though you obviously needed to hear them in order to remember who you belong to. …even though the two of you never disclosed the other couldn’t fuck anyone else; even though you were fully free to decide who you wanted to suck, lick, n fuck, katsuki hopes—silently prays, even—that you’d decide he was the only one you needed.

“what?” your eyes fly open at his words and your body freezes beneath him. “ka–katsuki, ‘m not yours—” he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces before you’re even done speaking, and he has to bite his tongue from lashing out. “we’re not even dating! y–you can’t be possessive over s–somethin’ that’s not— not even yours!” you try to reprimand him until you see the look that came over his face—the way his pouty lips tug into a deep frown and brows furrowed lightly, not out of anger but, rather, confusion—and suddenly you can’t bring yourself to scold him anymore. seeing katsuki, someone usually so outwardly hardened and tough, look this pitiful….. well, it made your heart ache, and your own expression softens as his pace subconsciously slows down as he waits with bated breath until you’re done talking.

“oh, katsuki,” you sigh deeply, rolling your hips gently upwards to meet his as you look up at him with watery eyes. “you’re such an idiot,” you can’t help but giggle as you crane your head upwards in an attempt to kiss him once again — what the unfortunate blond hadn’t realized is that you had been in love with him within the first year of knowing him.

“huh?!” is his immediate response before you had leaned in for a kiss, and suddenly the dots click. he easily closes the distance between the two of you (not that there was much to begin with), and kisses you a little more softly this time, a little less angrily.

after a very heated moment, katsuki slowly pulls away and looks at you sincerely — his heart not quite on his sleeve, but as close to that as he’s ever been, ready to shut down at the first sight of genuine rejection; but before he gets the chance to stew on the thought any harder, you break him out of his headspace by saying exactly what he needed to hear.

“there’s nothing going on between shouto and i—in fact, i haven’t even dated anyone in years because of you,” you tell him, wrists straining against his grip again and, this time, he gets the cue and gently releases them so you can tenderly cup his face and bring him in for another kiss. carefully moving your lips against his, you moan softly, asking for him to start fucking you again, and he happily obliges, with a renewed confidence at your admission.

katsuki really does feel like an idiot as his hips roll against yours, fucking you with a different kind of resolve this time.

“‘ve been in love with you since our second year of high school,” you confess, a little quietly. it doesn’t go unheard by katsuki, however, and a smirk stretches across his face as he quirks an eyebrow up at you. you two had only started hooking up once he had gone pro and desperately needed an outlet for his stress.

bakugou finds himself rendered speechless for once in his loud-mouthed life and he isn’t quite sure how to process your words. he believed you, mostly, but……. it was just very difficult to believe because….. well, why wouldn’t you want todoroki over him? it seems like the obvious choice, no? and yet…. here the two of you are, bodies sweaty and entwined as you both pant in attempt to catch your breaths, and you move to wrap your arms around his neck when you notice that faraway look in his eyes coming back—falling victim to his own mind once more.

“‘m serious, kats,” you say sternly, brows furrowing as you move your sore legs to wrap around his narrow waist, crossing them at the ankle and pull his hips flush against yours. “mmh,” your heart is hammering at what you’re about to say, but you’ve already come this far. “i love you, katsuki bakugou,” you say softly, threading your fingers through his unnaturally spiky blond locks as you look up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes.

katsuki’s eyes widen considerably at your words, and instead of bringing himself to choke out an i love you too, he kisses you deeply and shallowly thrusts his hips against yours as his tongue easily slides into your already parted lips, already having prepared yourself to not receive a verbal answer from katsuki. you knew he was absolutely god fucking awful at words, and you didn’t exactly expect him to reciprocate your feelings.

in your mind, he only picked you as his fuck buddy because he had known you too long and he wasn’t the type to fuck strangers, when in reality it was because katsuki was disgustingly in love with you, not that he had realized that prior to now—your words had awoken something in him and it feels so unfamiliar, and the unfamiliarity is what causes him to almost fumble you—almost, he has enough sense about him to mumble the quietest, raspiest, aggressive i guess i love…. he chokes on the word itself, never actually having had said it before—ever?—but manages to spit it the fuck out so he doesn’t lose the best friend—and pussy—he’s ever had. he sounds confused when he says finally manages to say an i love you, too but the fact that he even brought himself to say something so inherently soft and vulnerable (even if his tone wasn’t) cause your eyes to fly open in raw shock and disbelief, fully unable to believe your ears.

“you—you do?” no. there was no way he had just said that!

“don’t make a big deal out of it, and don’t expect to f'me to say it again anytime soon, y’hear?” he replies, face beet fuckin’ red, blush having spread all the way up to his ears as he moves to bury his face in the crook of your neck to hide it away from your view, where he began to nip and suck at the skin there again, only adding to the collection of hickies he had already left. ah, there’s the katsuki you fell in love with.

you smile at his words regardless of how gruff he sounded about it, heart (and cunt) so, so full and content, your grin stretching across your face until your cheeks hurt, and you can’t help but giggle quietly as he continues to mark you up, hips moving slowly, but each thrust hitting deep, the thick tip of his dick threatening to kiss up against your cervix if he went any deeper.

you would have to have a discussion with him about what you two were after this, but for now, you arch your back and close your eyes as you enjoy the feel of his lips against your skin and the way his thick cock stretches you out so deliciously.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

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with-my-calamitous-love · 12 days ago

Text

i’ll be in denial for at least a little while / what about the plans we made?

ya! k. bakugou x reader

after a month with radio silence and encouragement from concerned friends and family, you end up at katsuki’s doorstep. themes of depression/isolation, mentions of death (katsuki failed to protect a family on a mission), angst with some comfort at the end.

one of those ones i just needed to write. special tag for @crushmeeren <3

song: tv

11:03 pm.

"he doesn't normally do this." you have eijirou on speaker phone while you look for your keys. you can't see him, but you know already the worried look in his red eyes as he speaks. its the same worry he's had for katsuki back when they were still in UA. its the worry you'd expect from a best friend.

he can't see you, but he knows you're worried, too. because anyone who gets thoroughly ghosted by their boyfriend with no warning would also have shaky hands as they drive over to check on them. anyone who cares about someone else, worries.

"you said he's still coming to work, though?" you know the answer. yes, you've heard from shouto that he's still heading to the agency regularly, going on patrol and field missions as normal. but what you don't know, what you aren't able to confirm from what people are seeing, is what scares you: what if he's dragging himself out of bed, exhausted because he didn't sleep? what if he's skipping meals? what if he's going on missions, secretly hoping that something goes wrong?

"yeah, but he barely talks to anyone. i mean, i know he doesn't care for small talk, or whatever, but... somethings wrong. i can feel it."

your stomach churns, making the turn onto his street. for a while, you sit in the driveway, trying to see into the windows. maybe he's asleep. maybe he's perfectly fine. but most of that is just hope.

"what if he doesn't let me in?"

literally, because theres always a chance he's asleep and doesn't answer his door- though he's always been a light sleeper since going pro. but theres also the chance that he lets you inside his home but not into the walls he's built around him this past month.

"he will. he has to. he loves you." eijirou's voice feels like refuge, even over the phone.

you take a deep breath, hands clutching the sweater your wearing. its his, and you almost feel a little bad that you've taken it from him. does he have other things keeping warm? he has other sweaters, or blankets, hot showers and even his own explosions, but is he still feeling cold? alone?

eijirou drones on a little more. he's not the one sitting in his abesent best-friends driveway, but like you, he's stalling. "what happened was... it was terrible. but no ones blaming katsuki for that."

"yeah. except katsuki probably is."

he's silent over the phone. you both knew it, but didn't want to say it.

"i'm going in."

the redhead nods, though you can't see him. "i'm here if you need me."

"alright, by eiji."

"bye, [y/n.]"

your heart is pounding, bracing yourself for whatever may happen. but part of you knows that whatever you're feeling, your boyfriend is probably feeling tenfold and alone. its why you need to do this.

tentatively, you raise your knuckles to the door, knocking.

theres silence for a moment. you hear some footsteps that pause just before the door, like he knows its you.

on the inside? he feels pathetic for trying to hide, hoping you'll go away. he knows you won't, you both know it.

"katsuki?" your voice is quiet, afraid of disturbing any ghosts. "c'mon, i know you're in there."

he tenses. he wants to make up an excuse, tell himself that he's fine, that he doesn't have the time, that leaving everyone behind suddenly isn't a sign that something is wrong. but he's a liar and a bad one.

"go away."

he winces to himself, knowing he sounds like a child. but truthfully, its what he wishes he were, right now. a child who didn't have to feel the weight of failure pressing down on his ribs.

"i'm not going away until you let me inside." you say, firmly. "please."

its the first time you're hearing his voice in weeks, and its enough to bring you to your knees. he's been doing this for a month, but you wonder if he's felt lonely or scared or confused for longer than that.

"...i don't want you to see me like this."

you fight back tears. "maybe i do. maybe i wanna see you."

he's leaning his forehead against the door, knowing it's gone on too long. he knows he can't keep this up forever, and that at one point, you'd come to his front door. he expected more anger, anger for being a shitty neglectful boyfriend that never opens up about his feelings.

but he doesn't hear any anger in your voice, at all. and that makes him feel worse.

"please." you plead again, ringing the doorbell, hoping it'll annoy him enough to open the door. you'd rather have him pissed off, annoyed or angry than have none of him at all.

he shakes hid head, hand on the doorknob. its already unlocked.

"you're fucking stubborn, aren't you?" a sentence that comes out with something like a laugh. your chest tightens, worried he's about to tell you off. for a minute in the silence, it seems like it.

but then he opens the door, letting you see him.

you want to run towards him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his home and back into his life. but the fear of him rejecting that holds you back as he lets you inside, closing the door behind you.

you first note how dark it is. obviously, because its near midnight. but he's never been one to go without at least a window open, to let some moonlight in. he can't stand artificial light, anyway. he's always bitched that it messes up his sleep.

"you mind if i open some curtains?" you ask him, softly gaging his reactions.

he scoffs quietly, but reels in his attitude- most of it, anyway. "i don't care, do whatever."

you ignore his spite, walking over to the living room window and drawing the fabric. it's a perfectly clear night, a sky so full of stars you could swim in it. its something so beautiful, something he hasn't let himself experience in weeks.

you presence in his home is felt like that of a ghost. you take more time to look at his surroundings. you can hear his voice before this: "i like shit clean. and you're bad at that."

but now, he doesn't seem to care. theres dirty mugs and unwashed laundry. you're not saying anything, but he's expecting it. he's expecting you to call out his hypocrisy, or just how shitty he's let his place become. the thought makes his anxiety skyrocket, and following that, shame.

but instead, he watches as you collect a few of the cups and rinse them off in the sink. somehow, that makes him feel worse. what the hell did he do to deserve that?

"what are you doing?" he asks. you notice one of the mugs he got as a gag gift for his 20th birthday, though he took it seriously. a world's greatest hero mug, now dusty and forgotten.

"don't worry about it." you say, turning back to face him.

neither of you know where to start. he's hoped that if he stayed alone, drowning in his own depression, he wouldn't have to watch when you inevitably leave him.

"you know it's been a month?" you gently approach him. he's not moving away from your presence, which should be a good sign.

"i know." he says fast, cold. you know his tell that he's angry- short replies, pissed off red eyes and distance. he's not even mad at you, though. just himself.

"eijirou called, said he was worried. we all were, i mean."

his eyes dart up to meet your for a brief moment. the mention of him makes his chest tighten up more, knowing you're not the only person he's disappointed. he feels like a true, honest coward. he's not getting along with anyone. maybe he's the problem.

his silence makes you panic, wondering if he's listening. "i wanted to give you space. you're my boyfriend, i care and i-i didn't wanna push you."

he nods, arms crossed, looking at the floor.

"i'm just sorry it took me so long to get here."

his eyes meet yours again, this time holding your gaze. he wants to cup your face and tell you that you have nothing to apologize for. that he's hard to approach and hard to love, even though he knows you'd disagree with that. but the words get caught in his throat, and filtered by unresolved anger.

"yeah, well... you're here now, aren't you?"

you just nod, grateful that you're both, at least, talking. thats more than anything else in the past month.

you think back to the articles of what happened. how two young parents with kids even younger were tragically injured during a bank robbery. how pro-hero dynamight successfully captured the criminals but couldn't prevent what happened to the innocent.

whats worse is how neatly packaged and sanitized it became. "a physical altercation." "an unforeseen criminal event." "and unfortunate and untimely demise." he hated the way they tried to save his name, to not pin any blame him or his failures. he was blaming himself. why wasn't anyone else?

"you know no one blames you for what happened, right?"

because no one does. but for katsuki, thats the worst part. he should have bee faster, better. if he had been seconds earlier, maybe they could have gotten to the hospital faster. maybe he could have prevented it, all of it. if he was just a few seconds faster.

but he wasn't, and it'll haunt him forever. "they should be blaming me." he says solemnly.

you shake your head, stepping closer to him, hands itching to reach out. you want to take his blame and guilt away, even just for a moment. you wanna be able to touch him again. you wanna feel your boyfriend and everything he is.

theres tears in his red eyes as he recounts everything, breaking down. he once swore to himself he'd never cry in front of you, or anyone. now, he's starting to see that you're the only person he could cry around.

"how many people are grieving because i fucked up?" his voice raises slightly, but you hear through it.

"they know you tried."

"yeah well, not hard enough!"

he takes a deep breath, the thing he always tells you to do when you sprial. he lets the air sit in his lungs before finally pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you. he's tired of being alone.

"has it really been a month?" he asks, quietly.

you just nod into his chest, speechless. he's letting you in again, letting you touch him, feel him. its the closest you've been in what feels like decades.

you pull away just a little, hands cupping his face, looking into his teary eyes. its the first time in a while he's let himself cry, feel. and it makes his chest ache. his bones are exhausted from pushing down his feelings, of saying that he's fine, that he deserves the exile he's placed upon himself the past month.

"i'm sorry i'm shitty a boyfriend." he sobs. "and a shitty person. you deseve so much fucking better, they all did."

you shake your head, hushing him compassionately, wiping his tears. "i don't want better. i want you." he pulls you in tighter, and for a moment, time stops, the way he's wanted it to for the past few hours.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

2 am.

you both sit on the living room floor, backs against the couch. you're pressed against him, holding his hand while he rests it against your thigh, his thumb gently stroking over your skin. he's been exhausted as of late, but he doesn't want to close his eyes and miss this moment with you.

but when he looks over at you, your head on his shoulder, he feels more and more that he's allowed to let his guard down. you're still very much awake, but it's the first night in a while you can sleep without aimlessly worrying about him.

"you know idiot, for what its worth, i haven't been completely alone." he says looking over at you.

your eyes perk up. if there was anyone else who made sure he wasn't suffering in silence, its someone you wanted to know. "really? who?"

he pauses for a moment, like he's recalling a conversation in his head. one thats been buried by guilt and anxiety for the past month. but with you, he's letting himself admit things.

"...i spoke with a member of the victims family. she was the sister to the mother of the family. she was at the hospital the day it happened."

his answer took you off guard. in your head, he boarded himself up in his house, isolated and alone. you're not completely wrong, but you do feel a pang of guilt for not thinking better of him.

"how did that go?" you push gently.

"i expected them to be angry. to blame me for it. hell, i blame me." he starts, reminiscing the event. "but she was kinder than i deserved. said she didn't blame me."

you can tell he doesn't believe her words, or anyone's. that he still replays it in his head, living the guilt, the guilt that he survived and others didn't, eating at him.

"she sounds really sweet." you squeeze his hand.

he nods. "yeah, she was."

"you know," you start, trying to give his mind a brief holiday from the turmoil. "if everyone is saying it, it kind of has to be true."

his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. "whatever, idiot."

you sit up, facing him as you piece together your next words. he pulls your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, wanting to hear your voice. right now, its the only thing keeping him afloat.

"the hardest part about this job is that you can't save everyone. you can't change that."

what you say isn't new, its a reminder. that no matter how many things he blows up, how many villains he handles and how many times he climbs to the top, he'll have to endure the pain of loss. he's seen it in every teacher and every hero who came before him, and all the up and coming heroes who still have lessons to learn. and deep down, he knows that its no reason give up. he's determined to be the best, to be everything he said he'd be.

he nods, hearing the truth in your words, knowing that he'll need to make peace with it. he has no witty remarks or curses to add. just a drive to do better.

"but knowing you? you'll probably still try."

he brings his face to yours and then your lips to his, kissing you. his hand comes up to your cheek as he lingers for a few moments before pulling away.

"of course i will."

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