#neon hero hearts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

r4spb3rr13s · 5 months

Text

pro heroes meeting their feisty, mcbling gf

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, dabi

♱ pt.2 here pt.3 here

note: it’s me, i’m the feisty mcbling gf 😞

Katsuki has been on shift for what feels like hours. In reality… well it has been hours. He’s been patrolling a smaller, more mundane part of Tokyo, where all he’s done is help little old ladies with their groceries and scold kids for trying to steal candy.

He was dying to get home.

So, when he heard a scream five minutes from patrol ending, the groan he let out was loud, unprofessional and frankly, really douche-y of him. But still, he flew towards the alley it echoed from.

He turned the corner, expecting a damsel in distress…

Only to see you.

Beating a man with a Juicy Couture suede bag, wobbling on platform sandals.

While this man lets out the girliest, highest-pitched screams Katsuki has ever heard in his life.

“That’s.” Hit. “What.” Hit. “You.” Hit. “Get!” Big hit!

Katsuki blinks out of his trance and takes a booming step toward you. “What the fuck’s goin on?”

You gasp and look up, and Katsuki swears his heart is echoing out of his chest.

Your s/c skin is everywhere, from your jean shorts to the cleavage practically spilling out your leopard print zip-up, and as you straighten up, he catches a glimpse of a belly ring that makes him gulp.

Your hair frames your face with a pair of sunglasses at the top of your head, showing off a fantastic scowl. Glittery eyes are met with furrowed brows, decorated with piercings-galore on your face, and two big hoops either side of your head.

“This prick!” You punctuate it with a nudge of your painted-pink toe, “Tried to rob me! I kneed him in his tiny balls.”

Katsuki raises a brow. You take a minute to glare at the guy, still whimpering, before you strut towards him with narrowed eyes.

You hate to admit it, but Dynamight was hotter in real life. Soot is smeared on his cheek and the scowl on his face sends his ruby-red lasers shooting through you.

“What? You have a staring problem?” You ask with a hand on your hip. Every ounce of confidence you’re letting off is soooo clearly fake right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He shakes his head and looks around you to the poor guy on the floor. He’s not going anywhere, still curled up in a feral position and cradling his nads.

Katsuki sweats.

“Alright, sweetheart-”

You try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Sweetheart?” He freezes and looks down at your cocked brow. “At least take me out for a drink first, Mr. Dynamight, c’mon.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, “Shit- sorry, I didn’t- look, you’re okay, right? No injuries?”

You’re inspecting your nails at this point, trying to avoid looking at the muscles in his hero costume. “Huh? Nah, but he should probably get checked out. Am I good to go?”

You sound eager to leave, but you make no move to when he nods.

Instead, you stand, scrutinising him with crossed arms. Katsuki hates to admit it, but even standing a whole foot taller than you, you’re making the blond blush.

“Okay, what? You need somethin’?” He gruffly says.

You glance back at the idiot still on the floor, and he flinches at your gaze.

“You don’t need my number for a report or somethin’?”

The words leave your mouth sooner than you can stop them, but you keep your face cool as your turn around. God, you need a smoke after this.

Katsuki’s hearts skips a beat, but his lip quirks up and he huffs out a chuckle. He reaches into one his pockets, and passes you his phone.

He’s still blushing, but God that man is grinning as well.

:::

Eijiro is mid-lat pulldown when he hears you through the full blast of his headphones. Being the manly pro he is, he takes an earbud out to hear the commotion.

“When I say fuck off, I mean fuck off! What part of that isn’t get through your thick skull?”

Eijiro watched as you scream in a steroid-fueled gym-bro’s face. You’re jabbing a pink nail in his chest, neon pink shorts matching to a sports bra and a small hoodie on your top half.

He gets off the machine, and a loud clang echoes through the gym - you don’t even notice.

“What, too much muscle blocking your brain from working?”

The guy is getting ready to respond, an ugly, violent grimace on his face. As Eijiro steps behind you and crosses his arms, the guy thinks twice.

He nods at you, and turns away, practically running.

You huff and tuck a loose piece of hair behind your hair.

“What was that?”

You jump at the voice and spin around with a shout. A chest- Jesus Christ, he’s tall. You’re face-to-chest with a man covered in muscle, a sharp-toothed smile and spiky, red hair to match it.

“Oh!”

…

He raises a brow and smiles at you.

A blush is fighting it’s way onto your face, but you’re too cool for that. Way too cool. So you clear your throat and stop staring at his adorable face for a minute.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” You huff and cross your arms.

Eijiro frowns, “Shit, that sucks. Do you come here often?”

…

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

His face turns as red as his hair when he realises how stupid that sounded. It’s weirdly endearing watching such a large man blush and panic in front of you.

“N-no, like, I can get him banned if you’re a regular. I know the owners, so-”

“Where do I know you from?” You cut him off, doing mental gymnastics.

Eijiro freezes as he watches you. Your thick lashes touch your brows as you go wide-eyed, staring at him intently. So intently, he’s terrified to move a muscle.

You click your fingers and point a sparkly nail at his chest, “Red Riot! I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

He grins and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I mean,” You trail off for a minute, using all your self-restraint to not blush or stutter in front of this fine-ass man, “if you ever wanted to come to rescue again, I could just give you my number?”

Eijiro has never grabbed his phone faster in his life.

:::

Izuku has been caught in the midst of little fans. Children are detaching themselves from parents, flying away from friend groups to crowd around for his autograph. He’s reminded again why he always wears a cap and glasses when he goes to the mall.

He just needed to pick up a pair of boxers, for Gods sake.

A little boy comes hurtling at him, but such is the norm. What he doesn’t see is the girl sprinting after him- sprinting in platform heels that is.

Jeans cling to you tighter than your zebra print top, and the tiny handbag on your shoulder keeps slipping down. Every step you take is a loud jingle with the massive array of jewellery you have on, and star-shaped clips in your hair keep slipping out.

“Deku! You’re the coole-”

“Isamu! Get back here!” You screech. Your sister was going to kill you if she knew the one time you took your nephew out for a little trip to the mall, you lost him.

Watching him talk to a stranger was almost the cherry on top.

You come to a skidding stop, somehow not hurtling over on your open-toed death machines, and grab the 5 year old by the armpits. Isamu let’s out an excited shriek and smiles at you.

Then he points to the guy.

That guy being the number one hero in Japan.

You nearly drop your nephew.

“Oh my God-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both speak at the same time, then shut up, and just stare at each other like two idiots. He’s not in his costume - duh, idiot, he’s at the mall?- but he looks just as good as he does with his face plastered all over Tokyo.

Strong arms are straining the seams of his black shirt, and his dark hair is brushing the nape of his neck- it looks so soft-

“I’m really sorry, I should have come out with my hat on, sunglasses-”

“Please do not apologise for looking that good,” You mutter and roll your eyes. Then you freeze. Then you both look at each other, while you nibble your lip and smear your lipgloss everywhere.

“Deku! Can I have your auto map!” Isamu screeches from your arms, wiggling like a worm. It’s getting hard to hold him, so you plop him down and hold his hand instead.

“Autograph, buddy, not auto map,” You whisper in his ear.

Izuku’s heart skips a beat. You are gorgeous, silly and amazing with kids- I mean, what else could he really ask for?

He nods and crouched to Isamu’s height.

“Who am I making it out to, then?”

Isamu screams his government name so loud you want to cover your ears, but you just smile awkwardly at Izuku crouching under you.

He looks at you with his big, doe eyes and a soft smile. “What about you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph-”

“Your name?”

Oh shit. You mutter it and watch with a smile as the pro scrawls on a notebook he miraculously pulled out from his arse. His round, perky-

“There you go, Isamu. It was great meeting you,” He pats your nephew’s head, who is practically beaming. “It was nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he adds, and turns away with a wave.

As you walk away, Isamu thrusts the paper in your hand.

“LOOK AT IT AUNTIE Y/N!!”

‘if it’s not too forward, id like you text me sometime y/n :)’ and next to the note is his number.

Cheeky bitch.

:::

Dabi has no fucking idea how he ended up in a bar blasting Kesha from the speakers with millennial women screaming ‘this was my party song!’ but he hates it.

Until he sees you.

You’re in the tiniest jean skirt he’s ever seen, and your ass cheeks are so close to popping out. If you’d just stopped swaying your hips and bend over, he’d get a glimpse-

But you turn around, and he watches you twist and turn in a matching halter top, jewellery adding rhythms to the music.

Dabi swears he has never seen anything as captivating as your baby pink lips mouth along to Die Young. God, was he really thinking that? In relation to Kesha? You must be special, he thinks to himself.

He makes no move, though. He sits at the bar, watching you tip back fruity cocktails and teeter on your fur-covered boots.

He looks away for a second, he swears, and suddenly you’re on the bar stool next to him. Not just sat, but staring. Like, blatantly staring right at him.

He mirrors you, leaning on his palm and watching you.

You’d be lying if you tried to say his cerulean eyes weren’t doing something to you, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

It’s a fact, he has been.

A smile curls onto his lips, and he shifts so he’s closer to you. “Have I? Didn’t notice…”

You’re drunk. Like, much too drunk, because his face is a blur- a handsome blur though. You are aware enough to tell he’s staring at your tits, though.

You click your fingers in his face and he looks back up at you. There’s a moment on his face where he looks shocked, but a bigger smirk replaces it.

“Sorry, hun-”

“Hun? What am I, 5?”

He leans forward, and the overwhelming stench of a beach fire is fighting with your Britney Spears perfume. The air starts to smell like burnt sugar around you, and it’s weirdly compelling.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Well, you’ll need my number to call me.”

It takes you a minute to realise how dumb that was- you’re drunk and that is not what he meant, but it made him drop the cool boy act. He stared at you for a second with wide eyes before chuckling under his breath.

“You are somethin’, princess…”

“Princess?”

“Yeah, the skirt and all the pink- very princessy,” He gestured to your outfit before pulling out… a burner phone.

You really should not have drank that much, because you don’t even care to question it as you’re typing you digits in.

note: ffs i didn’t make izuku’s gf feisty enough 😞

3K notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 23 days

Note

So, Scary Villain (you are absolutely amazing at writing those btw chefs kiss) but vs someone who is Into That (hero or civilian) and so this scary big bad who thought they were being intimidating and downright terrifying (which they were... for a normal person) is just like ":D?!?"

I just love the slight inherit goofiness of an intimidation/scare tactic producing a VERY different result than intended towards the receiver.

(Hope you have a lovely day/night btw)

"Are you enjoying this?"

The villain stood with one hand outstretched as their telekinetic abilities wound around the hero's limbs and splayed them against the wall like a specimen beneath a microscope.

"Enjoying is...a word," the hero replied. "They said you'd be able to see me, or sense me or whatever, but man. I was sure that was bullshit."

Invisibility was a useful gift in many a situation. It didn't matter how strong or fast their opponent was when they could never see the hero coming. It didn't matter how many enemies there were when the hero could sneak past them with minimal effort and the right pair of shoes.

They'd been doing their usual, sneaking past the villain too, when the villain's hand lashed out. They hadn't bothered to even look up. The hero had gone flying as surely as if they were wearing a neon sign that screamed 'here I am!' at regular intervals.

"You might as well show yourself," the villain had drawled. "Unless you'd prefer I make an abstract painting of your organs against the ceiling."

The hero had let their invisibility drop, heart pounding.

The villain had rose, slow and predatory, to their feet. The hero hadn't been able to take their eyes off them.

The villain's head tilted at the hero's words. They took several steps closer, and all the hero could do was twitch their fingers uselessly against the wall. There was no hiding. No slipping away. The hero's breath hitched as the villain stopped less than a metre away, close enough to touch, though they didn't. Their gaze raked over the hero like a physical thing, leaving no detail spared.

"Because I can see you?" the villain asked. "Even when you don't want to be seen? Must be a novelty for someone like you."

"Because that thing you just did hurling me against a wall was bloody hot."

The villain blinked. Startled. Their eyes turned dark and molten. Their head tilted the other way.

The hero swallowed.

"But, I mean, we can call it being seen," the hero said. "Probably more professional."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Duh."

"But you are not frightened?"

"I have a peculiar reaction to danger."

"Indeed." The villain curled their finger and the pressure at the hero's throat tightened and left them choking. The villain watched it all. They might have seemed dispassionate, except...

"Enjoying yourself?" the hero rasped.

"You're a delightful surprise. Stupid, but delightful. New?"

"It's one of my many charms."

"The other being how pretty you'd look writhing and bloody with tears in your eyes? What are you doing in my lab?"

"Spelunking."

"Excellent hobby for a budding danger addict."

"I know, right?!"

The villain snorted. They loosened their telekinetic grip on the hero's throat, before they could get too dizzy. "What are you doing in my lab?"

"I was curious about you."

"Have I satisfied your morbid curiosity?"

"Morbid?" The hero wet their dry lips, but held the villain's gaze. "You haven't killed me yet. Wouldn't be as fun without the screaming and sobbing, would it?"

"There's still time." The villain paused, clocking the hero's reaction to that. "Oh, you weren't kidding. You really are a little freak, aren't you?"

"It's all in the line delivery. Do you practice?"

"No. Would you like me to practice on you?"

"I mean, I should point out I don't actually have a death wish."

"You broke into my lab."

"And for all you know I could have a cunning escape planned!"

The villain flicked their hand and the hero dropped down off the wall with a thump, landing on their knees, hands twisted behind their back. Chin tilted up by an unseen force.

"Then escape," the villain said. "Or I'll assume you want to stay like this for me."

"Most people buy me dinner first."

"We're not most people."

The hero considered them a moment, before they switched their invisibility on and then some again. Focusing. Phasing from the villain's grip.

The villain's eyes grew impossibly darker.

The hero straightened, giving a little bow.

A smirk curled the villain's lips. "I know how to keep people alive when I want to. I think I want to right now."

"Dinner? Tonight?"

"You can break in at seven."

It was the start of a beautiful new...not friendship. But they both enjoyed themselves very much.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero #villain #hero and villain #villain and hero #writing #story snippet #writing snippet #ficlet

685 notes · View notes

hischierhoney · 7 months

Text

OFF LIMITS

nico hischier x hughes sister!reader

part 2: I Know available now!

It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.

Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.

But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.

“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.

Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”

Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.

“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.

The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.

“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.

Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.

“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.

“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”

The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.

“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.

Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.

“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”

You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”

Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”

You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”

And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.

…..

You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.

You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.

“Like what?” You ask, innocently.

If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.

He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.

You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”

He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.

He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.

You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lamp next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.

“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.

His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”

You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”

You shrug and cast your eyes to the ceiling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.

Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.

“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

…..

Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.

You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.

He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.

So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.

He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.

Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.

“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.

“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.

“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.

He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.

“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.

Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”

Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.

“It’s not like that,” Nico says.

“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”

He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”

“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”

“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.

Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”

“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.

Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”

Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.

“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”

Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.

“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”

You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.

“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”

Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”

You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”

Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”

“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.

He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”

You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”

He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.

“You should lay down,” you mumble.

He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”

You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.

“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”

His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.

…..

You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheek is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.

You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.

When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.

“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”

He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.

You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.

You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”

Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”

You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”

Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”

You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.

“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”

You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”

Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the other teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.

“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.

“Why do I think what is?” You reply.

You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.

“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.

He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.

“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.

He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.

“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”

He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.

“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”

You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”

Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”

“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”

Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.

“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”

You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.

“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”

The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”

You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”

You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”

He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”

You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”

He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.

In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.

…..

You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.

He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.

You nod. “In a minute.”

Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.

The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars, quick texts from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.

Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.

“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.

He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.

…..

“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.

Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”

Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.

Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”

Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.

“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”

“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.

He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.

No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.

Part 2: I Know

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier fanfic #Nico hischier fic #Nico hischier fluff #Nico hischier oneshot #Nico hischier fanfiction #Nico hischier imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff

1K notes · View notes

moondirti · 1 year

Text

animalic (3)

← chapter two // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: he's got a plan that neither of you like warnings: enemies to lovers, predator/prey dynamics, biting, bondage, temporary paralysis, concussions, miguel is not nice, no use of y/n notes: this was supposed to be longer but the cut off at the original point was super awkward. this chapter is super exciting for all you fang lovers out there

You really can’t catch a break.

The city bustles with a verve rivalling your own, a kaleidoscope of luminescence dancing upon the glass facades of its skyscrapers. Their spires pierce the ink-dark cloak of night, and if you weren’t so busy running for your life, you’d stop to admire the way their aviation obstruction lights mimic the stars back home.

(Everything has a trade off, you suppose. You remember what it was like as light pollution gave away to reveal the cosmos above, the beauty of it lost upon your own grief.)

Now, it’s fear – clinging like a shadowy spectre to your heels. The pavement is unforgiving beneath you, each step sending a jolt of energy through your bones. Despite it, you can’t go any faster. Sidewalks crowd with the humdrum of everyday life – people filtering out from work and bodegas, dressed in a slightly odd fashion, their clothes a reminder of your unfamiliar landscape. Car horns blend into one another, providing an unsteady tempo to the race of your heart.

It’s disorienting, all of it. Times like these, you wish you’d been given the opportunity to hone your abilities. Stamina, flexibility. Web shooters in particular would have proved handy in avoiding the bustle of the ground.

Of course, he has that advantage on you too.

You can’t see Miguel, but you sense his proximity. It prods you, nipping at your flesh in a constant assault, intensifying goosebumps and raising hairs. Your spider sense usually doesn’t last this long, solely serving as a warning for immediate danger. Yet that’s just what he is, immediate. Dangerous. Predatory eyes track your every move, sourced from all directions. He’s everywhere; atop buildings, within alleys. Neon signs morph into twisted apparitions; serrated talons, red skulls.

How did he track you down so fast?

The day pass?

You wonder if he’d brought back-up – whether there are other spider-heroes here who trust in his noble cause. Your anxiety triples, and passerby’s begin to warp too. Their hurried footsteps now strike discordant notes, amplifying your isolation. You think you see some tense their wrists, or unbutton their coats, ready to reveal their tailored suits and ensure the capture you’ve managed to evade thus far.

It’s luck. It’s only ever been luck, and that fact changes depending on who you ask. You’ve never outsmarted him, never disabled him. You just so happen to have the power of being a pain in his ass.

Something itches at you, though. A nagging sense of foreboding. His presence in the past has spurred chagrin, annoyance, and – admittedly – arousal. But the genuine terror that lights your nerves now is new. Perhaps because you understand him, are far more familiar with his pride than most. The logical part of you can predict that he won’t let you off so easily, not after your stunt with the kiss. You won’t – can’t – get away this time, even if it damn well nearly kills him.

Any hope you had of a bargain dissipates, rolling back from shore and into the depths of an elusive sea. You jerk the rubber band off your wrist, throwing it into some undisclosed corner.

In a then desperate bid to throw him off, your path loses cohesion. Like a leaf seized by a tempest, you turn based on split-second instinct, weaving through the labyrinth of New York’s grid. Your body sways in frenzy, bolstered by pure adrenaline, which works to dim everything else. Your ribs haven’t fully healed yet – they’d taken a pretty bad beating upon your last fight with Miguel – but you can barely feel the ache as you focus purely on the task at hand.

Your determination surges, recklessness taking hold of your rationale. Veering abruptly, you just about collide with the racing line of cars that flow at a green light. In fact, you think you do. Your skin prickles, and a taxi runs straight through you, blearing a loud honk all the while. Some vehicles break off, drifting around your form at the last minute. In your peripheral, you can see the glowing red of your pursuers web, stretched across the gap between two apartment complexes.

Chest tightening, your breathing loses depth at the sight, shallowing to leave room for the distress that torrents up your system. You clamber up on the hoods of parked cars, using a mast arm pole to propel yourself forward. It’s a fruitless effort. You know it’s too late – have known it since he walked into that convenience, prowling in search of one thing.

(A lion only catches its prey a quarter of the time. But that twenty-five percent?)

Your ankle is the first victim to his hardwearing web, wrapped in the silk and pulled out from underneath you. The back of your head smacks into the concrete below, a high pitched ring reverberating through your skull upon impact. The collision sends a shock wave of pain throughout your being, and in that harrowing moment, everything stutters to a crawl. Spots speckle behind your clenched eyelids, metallic warmth flooding your mouth.

Well, fuck.

To add insult to injury, your atoms rip apart and splice into one another, a consequence of your abandoned day pass. The glitch aggravates the headache that begins to pound at you. You’d allowed yourself to forget how bad it could be.

The willpower that had just played a forefront in your mind steadily starts to trickle out, absorbed by your humiliation and the ground below.

“You really gonna give up that easily?”

Yes.

You make a point to never lie to yourself. In truth, you won’t ever get enough of Miguel’s cadence. Deep and resonant – it smoulders with a charred ruggedness. Commanding attention, rumbling like distant thunder, an unmistakable authority woven into each word. Yet, even amidst the rough contours, there lingers a softness, a subtle grace that soothes the edges of his threats.

(Sharp claws, sharp teeth, sharp cheekbones. Soft voice.)

More webs bind you, erupting from an unclear point to circle your legs, chest, and secure your arms behind your back. You’re diminished to little more than an aggravated caterpillar, ensnared in a spider’s web. And, just as his little game of bondage draws to a close, said spider stalks within view, splitting through the crowd that quickly forms around the commotion.

With his mask on, he stands as completely impenetrable. You, on the other hand, try to reduce your quivering the best you can, afraid of relaying how truly pathetic you feel.

“Maybe I’m biding my time.” You bite back, calling on a complete bluff. “I’m sure you know how good I am at that?” It’s a low blow. Even if you could control when and where to phase out, you wouldn’t get very far before he catches up to you again.

But Miguel doesn’t waver in his closing in – not until he towers over you, looking down at your incapacitated state. Space buckles under the gravity of his existence; you, too, can feel yourself sinking, drawn in closer by the credence that bubbles off him in flares. You wish you had a cover – your pair of makeshift goggles, a face mask, anything that could elevate you to a degree relative to his. But you’re bare, figuratively naked, and you’ve never hated him more.

He lingers, assessing you, weighing his options. The moment he turns to survey the mass of people who look on inquisitively, you wiggle upward into a sitting position, then throw your head forwards, aiming for his crotch. His wrist gets in the way, though, blocking your pitiful attack on his only defenceless area. Your forehead cracks against his dimensional travel watch, shattering its screen.

“Tu puta madre!” Miguel hisses, snapping back to survey the gadget while you begin to slink away. He seems to have an eye on you, however, because you’re tugged back just as soon as you make the effort.

Like a naughty cat. You shift uncomfortably at the thought.

“Are you gonna spend all night deciding what to do with me, then? I have plans, even if you don’t.”

“Plans. I have plans alright.” The low timbre of his threat slices you where it hurts.

With a calculated flex of his shoulders, he crouches down, gathering the webs around your arms. They serve as leverage when he hauls you upward, exercising his muscles – of which you’d suspected had been padding up to this point – with one swift motion. The world upends on itself, nausea enveloping your senses with its oppressive weight. It allows space for little else; not the uncertainty, not the trepidation. You divert all your efforts on keeping your scarce lunch down, accepting the possibility of a concussion by product of his less-than-refined manhandling.

The journey to wherever he takes you is not at all long enough for you to recover. Before you know it, he’s busting through the creaky door of an empty storelot, carelessly tossing you to the floor. Your vision doubles.

Yeah. Definitely a concussion.

Like you could afford one right now.

“You’ll stay, and you’ll listen.” He points an accusatory finger.

“Sure. Until I’ve had enough, that is.”

“And where would you go, exactly?”

“Nice try, O’hara. Like I’d tell you,” Snickering, you let your head roll to face the ceiling. The action sends you back to earlier, to the robbery you’ve been seeking to suppress. How careless you’d been, letting your fortune to date trick you into thinking that any collateral was safe too. You’d killed that woman. You. “Maybe I’ll fall right through the floor. That way, you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again.”

The notion makes him pause mid-pace, hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at you with what you imagine is the most earnest glare. The air bobs, suspended in static tension, a crackling constant that only unravels once he seems to make up his mind.

Marching forward, he drags you along with him to a nearby wall, upon which he then pushes you upward until you have to look down to meet his eyeline. Your bound legs kick forward, but the struggle hardly affects him.

“I didn’t want to resort to this.”

You assume he means treating you like a toddler does its shiny new toy, hurling you across this playpen of a city. “You really didn’t have to, then.”

He stays quiet, fists clenching tighter around you.

“I suppose we’re past the courtesy of letting the other recover from the last fight before starting a new one? My forearm is still fucked, thanks to you. Maybe if you’d given it some time, I would’ve proved more of a challenge today.” Your words, whilst never your most steadfast allies, betray you in lieu of this restlessness, tumbling forth with unruly incoherence.

Miguel's mask pulls back, the nanotech collapsing to just above his adams apple. Your mouth moves faster.

“Okay, I get it. The fate of the multiverse and all that. I’ll listen, whatever you want, but at least try and make the lecture original.”

His hand cups your jaw, tightening around your chin to firmly guide it upwards. Your throat stretches taut at the motion, its smooth expanse spread across the wall – an evening repast for a party of one. The imagery breaks down an all too sobering realisation into fragments small enough for you to register. His talons rest against your cheek, bordering perilously close to your waterline.

Traces of that patchouli aftershave hit you. His skin looks especially bronzed in the dark, highlighted at the edges from the phosphorescence outside. His curls droop where they’re plastered to a sweat slicked hairline.

You can’t help it. Your gaze flickers down to those plush lips.

Fuck. Fuck. It’d felt so good to kiss them.

Please let this just be a kiss.

“O-Or go with the… the usual, y’know. I don’t–”

Miguel lunges, sinking his fangs into the fleshy sinew of your neck.

Christ.

Your jaw hangs open, but no breaths filter in. Shock wedges itself at the site of his bite, implacable, steadfast as a barrier between logic and uninhibited emotion. Your reasoning plays no part in this, provides absolutely no valuable contribution to the series of reactions you undergo.

It’s physical, first. The cold slither of paralytic venom distends through your nerves, neurotoxins striking their functions, rendering them useless beyond the point of sensation. Which, you’d say, is the cruellest part. Miguel’s poison doesn’t stop you from feeling anything; not the puncture, nor the burn. You can truly feel it, trekking its graceful path to all muscles in your body, taking hold of the tissue, suppressing their vitality. Your back arches, your body doing its very best to fight what it cannot prevent. It cracks up your bone, down your spine. Your toes unfurl, fingers loosening to hang lamely at your side.

And, when you lose all executive authority over yourself, you’re pulled in to centre on his mouth again. His canines slowly retract, tongue taking their place. It’s warm – so fucking warm – and dextrous, covertly lathering the blood that beads down your nape.

Your last proper breath is wasted on a whine; a loud, keening, absolutely wanton whine. After it, you can do nothing but hold your flat inhales to cycle in as much oxygen as possible – diaphragm weak, your resolve weaker.

Miguel draws away, letting you slump to the floor, heavy and just as useless as a sack of flour. He wipes the excess carmine from his chin, kneeling to regard your glassy eyed stare.

“Fall through now, and you’re as good as dead.”

(You might as well already be.)

chapter four →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be notified of future updates!

3K notes · View notes

doumadono · 4 months

Note

✨ SINFUL SUNDAY BITCHES ✨

Can we get some villain Bakugo corrupting pro hero reader?

Warnings: smut w/o plot, non-con elements, rough smut, pussy fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, fem prohero!reader, villain!Bakugo, semi-public, a bit of humiliation and degradation?, Bakugo being sardonic, a little of power play, forced orgasm

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during another Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

The night was cloaked in darkness, the moon a mere sliver in the sky, casting a faint glow over the bustling city below. Neon lights flickered, casting eerie glows on the wet pavement. The quiet murmur of the city was interrupted by distant sirens, a reminder of the ever-present danger lurking in the shadows.

You were a pro hero, dedicated and unwavering in your resolve to protect the citizens of Musutafu. You stood atop a high-rise building, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the streets for any sign of the notorious villain who had been wreaking havoc recently. Katsuki Bakugo, once a promising hero-in-training, had taken a dark turn, abandoning his dreams of heroism to embrace a path of destruction and chaos.

Your mission tonight was clear: apprehend Bakugo and bring him to justice. But as you stood there, the cold wind biting at your skin through your costume, you couldn't shake the unease that settled in your stomach. Bakugo was known for his explosive temper and unparalleled strength, and you had a feeling this encounter would be anything but easy.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion echoed through the night, shaking the building beneath your feet. You spun around, your eyes wide as you spotted the source of the blast: a plume of smoke rising from a nearby warehouse. Without hesitation, you leapt from the rooftop, and made your way towards the chaos.

As you approached the warehouse, you could see the flicker of flames licking at the sky, the acrid scent of burning metal and debris filling your nostrils. You landed gracefully, your boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. The warehouse was in ruins, chunks of concrete and twisted metal scattered around the area. And in the midst of the destruction, standing amidst the flames like a demon from the depths of hell, was no one else but Katsuki Bakugo.

He turned to face you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he recognized you. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who decided to show up. A little late to the party, aren't we?"

You clenched your fists, your eyes narrowing as you met his gaze. "Bakugo," you spat, taking a defensive stance. "I won't let you continue this reign of terror. This ends tonight. I'm taking you in."

Bakugo laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "You really think you can take me down, princess? You're welcome to try, but I promise you, it's not going to end the way you think."

With a sudden burst of speed, Bakugo closed the distance between you, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist.

You reacted on instinct, twisting away and aiming a punch at his midsection, but he was faster. His grip tightened, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent you crashing to the ground, his body pinning yours.

"You're so predictable," he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "Always playing by the rules, always so righteous. But you know what, sweetheart? That shit doesn't matter anymore. In this world, power is the only thing that counts."

You struggled beneath him, your heart racing as you tried to free yourself from his grasp. “Let. Me. Go.”

But Bakugo's strength was overwhelming, his body a solid wall of muscle and raw power. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Tell me, little heroine," he murmured, his free hand trailing down your side, "Have you ever wondered what it's like to let go? To stop fighting and just give in?"

You gasped, your body reacting to his touch despite your determination to resist. "Stop," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "This isn't you. You're not a monster. Your mind is just clouded."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding beneath the hem of your costume, teasing the sensitive skin of your tummy. "Oh, but it is me," he said, his eyes burning with a twisted kind of desire. "And deep down, I think you like it. I think you want it."

With a swift motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his dominance overwhelming.

You fought against the pull, but the intensity of his touch, the raw passion he exuded, was intoxicating.

His hands roamed your body, setting your nerves alight with every touch. "Feel that?" he murmured against your lips. "That's the real you, begging to be unleashed."

Your resolve wavered, the lines between right and wrong blurring in the heat of the moment. "Bakugo, stop," you pleaded, though your voice lacked conviction.

"Stop?" he taunted, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. "You don't want me to stop, princess. You want to see just how far this can go."

You knew you should resist, should fight with everything you had, but you simply couldn’t.

Bakugo's lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he continued to speak, his voice a low, hypnotic growl. "Give in, heroine," he urged, his hand moving lower, tracing the curve of your hip. "Let me show you what real power feels like."

You bit your lip, an unwanted moan escaping your lips as his hand found its way between your legs, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your costume on your crotch.

The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and resistance that made your head spin. "Bakugo," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Don’t touch me."

He smiled against your skin, his fingers gently slapping your crotch. "Stop it," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone. "Don’t be such a prude. We both know you like being used. You whores all do.”

And in that moment, as your body responded to his touch, you realized that you were powerless to resist him. Katsuki Bakugo, the villain you had sworn to stop, was slowly and resolutely tearing down all of your defenses, pulling you into his dark, dangerous world.

"You think you can resist me?" he taunted, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I know you feel it too. That darkness inside you, begging to be set free."

"Bakugo, this isn't right," you protested, shaking your head abruptly.

His smirk widened, a feral glint in his eyes. "Right or wrong doesn't matter now. All that matters is what you want. And I know you want this."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours again, the kiss possessive.

You tried to fight it once again, but failed. "Bakugo," you gasped when he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to hear you beg for it."

The command in his tone sent a jolt of primal desire through you, your body betraying your resolve. "Katsuki," you whispered, the name a plea on your lips.

He growled in approval, his hands sliding under your uniform again, fingers tracing the curves of your body. "That's it. Don’t be shy, princess."

In one swift motion, he tore at your clothes, the fabric yielding to his strength.

The cool night air kissed your exposed skin, but the heat radiating from Bakugo's body kept you warm.

His touch was relentless, every caress igniting a fire that burned through you. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So eager, so willing. I knew you had it in you. Haha, you just can’t wait to have a villain cock in your cunt."

You gasped as his hands found their way to your panties, his touch both demanding and expertly skilled.

He captured your lips again, the kiss deep and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered after breaking the kiss, the need in your voice undeniable.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing with triumph. "That's what I wanted to hear." With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted you like you weighed nothing, like you were nothing but a rag doll, pressing you against the rough brick wall of the warehouse.

The sensation of the cool brick against your exposed skin made you whimper. Your breath hitched, your resolve wavering under his piercing stare. "Bakugo, this isn't —"

"Oh, shut the fuck up finally," he interrupted, his lips crashing down on yours to silence you. He smirked against your lips, his fingers tracing teasing circles over the middle of your panties. "You're already so fucking wet for me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I knew you wanted this, little one."

He quickly tugged your panties down your legs, and without thinking much, you helped him take them off completely. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, the intrusion both shocking and exhilarating. He finger fucked you while licking the pulse point on your neck with the tip of his tongue, wet trail of his saliva painting your throat. He soon added another digit.

"Bakugo," you moaned, the sound of his name a plea on your lips.

"That's right," he growled, his fingers moving faster, deeper, each thrust stroking all the right places deep within you. "Let me hear you beg for it."

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for more. Even though it all felt wrong and he was only humiliating you.

His smirk widened, a feral gleam in his eyes. "Good little heroine," he murmured, adding another finger, the sensation overwhelming. "Feel that? That's me owning you." His fingers moved with relentless precision, hitting all of the sweet, spongy spots. His calloused thumb brushed over your clit at the same time.

Bakugo cupped your face with his other hand in a mockery of intimacy, his rough digits surprisingly gentle against your skin. His eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned in, the warmth of his breath hitting your cheek as he sniffed you. "Fuck," he murmured, almost to himself, "I could get used to this."

You smelled so good, sweet and soft and clean — a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded him daily. It had been so long since he had been this close to a woman, and never one who was willing. The scent of you, the feel of your skin against his, it was intoxicating, a drug he hadn't realized he craved.

Bakugo kissed you again while fingering your tight pussy, the sloppy, wet noises so lewd that, involuntarily, you became wetter than before.

You hated how your body reacted.

His tongue swept over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He gripped you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold.

You had never been kissed like this before.

Bakugo finally pulled his fingers out of you and dropped to his knees, hitching one of your legs up over his shoulder. The velvety skin of your inner thigh looked so delicious that he nuzzled against the bare area and latched onto it, sucking until he was sure you'd have a mark in a few minutes. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy was inches away from him, intoxicating and irresistible. Bakugo's eyes darkened with desire as he inhaled deeply, dying to make you cum in his needy mouth. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds before his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. The sensation was electric, his mouth working expertly, eager to draw out every moan, every shiver of pleasure from you. He latched onto your clit, sucking and flicking with a fervor that made your knees weak, his grip on your leg tightening to keep you steady. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He was relentless, devouring you with a hunger that left you breathless.

“B-Bakugo…”

A sound you’d never heard yourself make before forced its way out of your mouth as Bakugo ate you out in earnest, his tongue rubbing against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gave you no time to catch your breath. You wanted him to stop. And at the same time, you never wanted him to stop. Your hands twitched as you fought the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your trembling thighs. His tongue felt so, so good against your pussy. You had never been with a man who was that skilled in pleasuring a woman.

Bakugo curled one arm around your thigh, pulling his face away from your cunny just long enough to push his fingers back into your drenched hole, angling his palm to grind the heel of his hand roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm, wet softness of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge. You cried out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Bakugo's fingers as he worked them in and out of you.

"Fuck, that’s it, you little, pathetic whore, cum for me now or I'll have to blow your fucking useless head out," he growled, his voice vibrating through you as he rubbed the bulge tenting in his pants roughly with his free hand. His eyes were dark with desire, watching you come undone. Bakugo groaned, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh, before attaching his mouth to your pussy again. He drank in all of your juices, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as if he couldn’t get enough.

You just came on the tongue of a villain.

Bakugo looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips, his chin glistening with your release. "You taste even better than I imagined," he said, his voice low and rough.

Your legs felt weak, barely able to support you as the reality of what had just happened sank in. You felt oh so humiliated, but a part of you couldn't ignore the raw, undeniable pleasure that Bakugo had drawn from you.

He got back to his feet, and whispered against your ear. "Admit that you want me to fuck you right here, right now."

"Yes," you breathed, the word a desperate plea.

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a growl, he freed himself from his fitted combat pants, his cock sprung up free, resting proudly against his toned abdomen; the aggressive, red tip leaking precum from its slit. He positioned himself at your slimy entrance, the anticipation almost too much to bear. "You're mine," he declared, his voice thick with possessive hunger. “You’re nothing but a tiny hole I’m going to use however I please. You’re fucking nothing but a piece of meat.”

With a powerful thrust, he entered you, the sensation tearing a gasp from your lips. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was intoxicating. He moved with a fierce rhythm, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy with every rough thrust he delivered. He yanked one of your legs up, wrapping it around his hips to find the better angle.

He could hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped so tightly around his dick. It consumed his every thought, his every desire. He wanted to live inside your pussy, to fuck your warmth every day, every minute. The feeling of fucking you raw was the best he had felt in months, a primal satisfaction that eclipsed everything else.

"Bakugo," you moaned, your hands clinging to his shoulders for support.

"That's right," he growled, his pace relentless as he hardly squeezed your boob through your sports bra. "Scream my name. Let everyone know who you belong to."

“K-Katsuki!”

The world around you dissolved into a haze of pleasure and desire, the only reality was the feeling of Bakugo claiming you, possessing you completely. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts, his breath hot against your skin.

The warehouse was a chaos of fire and smoke, the heat from the flames slowly licking at your skin, but the inferno around you was nothing compared to the blaze between you and Bakugo. The firelight cast an eerie glow over his face, highlighting the intense, almost feral desire in his eyes.

“Such a good whore, taking my cock in her tight little pussy so fucking well,” Bakugo praised, licking a stripe of your neck, growling lowly into your ear.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you harder against the wall. The rough brick scraped your back.

Every nerve ending was on fire, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming.

"That's it," he growled, his pace increasing, the friction of his body against yours driving you wild. “That’s it, whore.”

You gasped at the insult, your leg tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper.

He angled his hips, hitting the sweetest spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes with the tip of his massive cock. "Right there," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I can feel you clenching around me. That’s a good, little heroic whore.”

You nodded frantically, your breath coming in ragged gasps whenever the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

"Bakugo!" you screamed, raking your nails along his shoulders even though they were still covered by the upper part of his gear.

He swirled two fingers against your clit after slipping the hand that had cupped your boob earlier down to your slick pussy.

You mewled like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation, and he laughed rudely.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as possible, his cock pulsing and swelling as he came, filling you with his hot, thick release. “Fuck, take it, take it all, bitch.”

Your climax built rapidly as well. Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure tightening until it finally snapped when he came inside of you. With a cry of his name, you shattered, the pleasure overwhelming, consuming you utterly for the second time this evening. Your body convulsed around him, your pussy clenching and milking his veiny cock as he continued to pound into you. “Bakugo!”

“That’s it, little one, that’s it,” Bakugo cooed, his thrust sloppy until he stopped moving. He held you there for a moment. The slurping sound that reverberated in the air as his cock partially left your drenched pussy was obscene. Equally obscene was the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connected your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulled away fully. His rough hands were still gripping your hips as he watched with a wry grin how his cum dribbled out of your abused pussy.

"You're fucking mine," he whispered, his voice a rough promise. "There's no place you could possibly hide from me," he whispered. "I'll find you anywhere, little heroine. You are mine, and no one else, nor any other thing, will ever change that."

When clouds of primal lust faded away, clearing your mind a little, the humiliation hit you like a heavy hammer, threatening to crush you under its weight. You fought the urge to cry, the stress and fear coursing through you like a tidal wave. You couldn't tear up like a baby in front of him, couldn't show any sign of weakness. Even though you already did.

Frantically, you looked around for your panties, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to improve the upper part of your hero costume that was practically torn in half. But before you could find them, his low, mocking laugh reached your ears. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, as you saw him toying with them in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You looking for these?" he taunted, holding them just out of reach. "You should know better by now. Everything that touches you belongs to me too." He sniffed your panties, and then theatrically licked the damp spot in the middle with his tongue, making you shudder involuntarily. His grin widened at your reaction, a cruel satisfaction evident in his eyes. After wiping his cock with your panties, he tucked them into the pocket of his pants, adjusting his trousers shortly after with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. "I'll keep these as a little souvenir," he announced.

Bakugo took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming as he helped you adjust your own pants. "Now, go," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Run to them and tell them that not only did you fail to stop and capture the infamous villain, but also moaned like a cheap whore when his cock was buried to the hilt in your wet pussy. I'm super curious about their reaction."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you nodded numbly, unable to form a proper sentence after you pulled up what was left of your hero pants. You turned around and walked away with a shaky step as you prepared to face the consequences of your failure.

643 notes · View notes

herrscherofinsanity · 8 months

Text

Web of Hearts

Spider!Jimin being as subtle as a neon sign.

Fluff

Yu Jimin (Karina x fem!reader)

Word count: 5.6k

____________________

In the bustling city of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers touched the sky and the pulse of urban life echoed through every street, a new kind of hero emerged. Clad in a sleek red and black suit, Spiderwoman swung from building to building, keeping a watchful eye on the city she vowed to protect.

Yu Jimin, a seemingly ordinary woman by day, carried the weight of a secret identity. By night, she embraced her extraordinary abilities and became the guardian of Seoul. As Spiderwoman, she effortlessly swung through the cityscape, her agility and strength unmatched.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Jimin perched atop a high-rise building, scanning the city for any signs of trouble. Her enhanced senses picked up on a distant commotion, and with a graceful leap, she swung into action.

Down on the streets, chaos ensued as a group of villains wreaked havoc, terrorizing innocent civilians. Without hesitation, Spiderwoman descended upon the scene, her presence casting a shadow over the criminals.

"Looks like the party's over, gentlemen," she quipped, her voice laced with a confident edge.

The villains, startled by the sudden appearance of the city's masked guardian, prepared to face off against the formidable Spiderwoman. The confrontation unfolded in a series of acrobatic moves and swift strikes, showcasing Jimin's mastery of her newfound abilities.

As the last villain was apprehended, Spiderwoman turned to the gathered crowd, her mask concealing the determined glint in her eyes. "Fear not, citizens of Seoul. Spiderwoman is here to ensure your safety."

Word of the mysterious heroine spread across the city, capturing the imagination of its inhabitants. While Jimin navigated her daily life as an unassuming individual, she couldn't deny the thrill that came with her nightly escapades as Spiderwoman.

In a city where shadows concealed both villains and heroes, Jimin grappled with the responsibility that came with her extraordinary abilities. The balance between protecting the city and preserving her personal life became a delicate dance, and as the night sky witnessed her silent struggles, Seoul remained oblivious to the identity of its mysterious guardian, Spiderwoman.

____________________

It was move-in day at the college dorms, and the hallways buzzed with excitement and nervous energy. yn, lugging a heavy suitcase behind her, scanned the room numbers until she found hers: Room 302. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was small but cozy, furnished with two twin beds, desks cluttered with textbooks, and a large window overlooking the campus grounds. yn's eyes landed on her new roommate, who was unpacking a box of books with an infectious smile on her face.

Jimin looked up and flashed a warm grin at yn. "Hey there! You must be my new roommate. I'm Yu Jimin. It's nice to meet you!"

yn returned the smile, instantly feeling at ease in Jimin's presence. "Hi, Jimin. I'm yn. Nice to meet you too."

And with that simple introduction, the bond between Jimin and yn began to form, setting the stage for the adventures that lay ahead. What yn didn’t know was that her quirky and endearing roommate held a secret that would change both of their lives forever.

____________________

After their initial meeting, Jimin and yn quickly settled into their roles as roommates. Jimin's bubbly personality and penchant for nerdy jokes brought a lightness to their shared space, while yn's calm and grounded demeanor provided a sense of stability.

As days turned into weeks, yn couldn't help but notice a peculiar pattern. Jimin seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting injured. Whether it was tripping over her own feet or accidentally bumping into furniture, Jimin always seemed to have a new bruise or scrape to show for it.

At first, yn brushed it off as Jimin just being incredibly clumsy. She would tease Jimin gently, offering band-aids and ice packs whenever Jimin came back from another misadventure.

But as time went on, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Jimin's frequent injuries. She noticed the way Jimin would tense up whenever yn asked about how she got hurt, quickly deflecting the conversation with a laugh or a joke.

yn's curiosity grew, and she began to pay closer attention to Jimin's behavior. She noticed how Jimin would sometimes slip out of their dorm room in the middle of the night, only to return hours later looking exhausted and worn out.

Despite her suspicions, yn didn't confront Jimin about her weird midnight escapades. Instead, she quietly observed, but the more she observed Jimin, the more confused she felt.

What on earth could her dorky roommate be up to?

____________________

Amidst the bustling city streets, chaos reigned as a gang of masked criminals wreaked havoc, their nefarious intentions casting a shadow of fear over the unsuspecting civilians. Amidst the chaos, a lone figure swung gracefully through the air, her lithe form a blur of crimson and black against the night sky.

Spiderwoman, as she was known to the citizens of the city, moved with fluid precision, her keen senses alert to the danger that lurked around every corner. With effortless grace, she leaped from building to building, her web-slinging abilities propelling her forward with astonishing speed.

As she closed in on the scene of the crime, Spiderwoman's senses tingled with anticipation, her heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled excitement. With a deft flick of her wrist, she shot a web line towards a nearby lamppost, swinging around it with practiced ease before landing gracefully on the ground below.

With a swift and decisive movement, Spiderwoman sprang into action, her movements a blur of acrobatic prowess as she dispatched her foes with precision and finesse. Her spider-like agility and lightning-fast reflexes left the criminals reeling, their futile attempts to strike back thwarted at every turn.

As the last of the criminals lay defeated at her feet, Spiderwoman allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before turning her attention back to her true objective. With a confident smirk, she shot a web line towards the nearest rooftop, launching herself into the air with a graceful leap.

Minutes later, Spiderwoman landed silently on the rooftop of the college dormitory she shared with yn, her heart racing with exhilaration from the night's events. With practiced stealth, she slipped through the window and into the darkness of her room, her secret identity safe for another day.

____________________

One evening, as yn was studying in the shared dorm room, she heard a loud crash coming from the living area. Startled, she rushed out to find Jimin sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle in pain.

"Jimin, are you okay?"

Jimin winced as she attempted to sit up, her face contorted in pain. "I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts like crazy."

yn hurried to Jimin's side, helping her to sit up and inspecting the injury. Sure enough, Jimin's ankle was swollen and bruised, a clear sign of a sprain.

yn tried to be as gentle as possible with her injured roommate, "let's get some ice on that ankle. I'll grab a cold pack from the freezer."

As yn tended to Jimin's injury, she couldn't help but notice how frequently her roommate seemed to get hurt. It was as if Jimin was a magnet for accidents, always finding herself in precarious situations that resulted in bumps, bruises, and sprains.

Despite her curiosity, yn didn't press Jimin for details about how she got hurt. Instead, she focused on providing comfort and support, knowing that her roommate needed her in moments like these.

As Jimin winced in pain, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin's injuries than met the eye. But for now, she pushed aside her suspicions and focused on helping her friend heal.

____________________

One afternoon, as yn returned to their dorm room after class, she absentmindedly pushed open the door without bothering to knock. To her surprise, she found Jimin standing shirtless in the middle of the room, a towel draped over her shoulders.

yn's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight of Jimin's bare torso, but her attention was quickly drawn to the large cut spanning across Jimin's back.

"Jimin, what the hell happened!? You're bleeding!" the younger girl shrieked.

Jimin jumped in surprise, hastily grabbing the towel to cover herself as she turned to face yn.

Jimin stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. Just a little mishap while I was... uh, working out." Nailed it.

yn could see the discomfort in Jimin's expression as she hesitated to explain the true cause of her injury. Without another word, yn grabbed the first aid kit from their shared bathroom and motioned for Jimin to sit down on the bed.

"Let me take care of that for you. It looks pretty deep." Jimin felt herself freezing up at the soft look yn sent her way, she obediently walked towards her roommate.

As yn carefully cleaned and bandaged Jimin's wound, she couldn't help but notice the nervous energy radiating from her roommate. It was clear to yn that Jimin was hiding something, but she didn't press for answers, respecting Jimin's privacy.

As they sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken words, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin than met the eye. For now, she focused on helping her friend heal, unaware of the deeper feelings brewing beneath the surface.

As she finished wrapping up Jimin’s wound, yn couldn’t help but break the silence that enveloped them.

“You know…” yn began “you don’t have to tell me what actually happened, but I hate it when you get hurt. Please try to be more careful from now on, I can’t bare to see you in pain”. With those words yn got up to put away the first aid kit.

Jimin didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t deny that yn’s words had affected her in a way she couldn’t really describe. She couldn’t keep ignoring the butterflies she felt every time she locked eyes with yn.

____________________

Despite her best efforts to be subtle, Jimin's attempts at dropping hints about her developing feelings for yn were about as inconspicuous as a flashing neon sign. Whether it was lingering glances, awkward attempts at flirting, or fumbling over her words whenever yn was around, Jimin's attempts to express her affection were anything but discreet.

yn, however, wasn't oblivious to Jimin's antics. In fact, she found them rather endearing. She couldn't help but smile to herself whenever Jimin stumbled over her words or blushed furiously whenever their eyes met. yn appreciated Jimin's efforts, even if they weren't exactly subtle.

Despite her awareness of Jimin's feelings, yn decided to play along, enjoying the playful banter and the budding friendship between them. She didn't comment on Jimin's less-than-subtle approach, opting instead to let her roommate express herself in her own quirky way.

As they navigated the delicate dance of friendship and budding romance, yn couldn't help but feel a warmth blossom in her chest whenever she thought of Jimin. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more than friendship brewing between them, and yn was eager to see where their journey would take them.

____________________

("What do you think of superheroes?"

"Um, they're pretty cool, I guess. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Just curious."

"Okay... Anyway, what's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing important. Just, you know, hanging out with my favorite person."

"Smooth, Jimin."

"I try my best."

"Uh huh. Well, keep practicing."

"Ouch, right in the ego."

"Hey, you're the one who asked for honesty."

"True. Thanks for keeping me grounded, yn."

"Anytime, Jimin. Anytime.")

____________________

On a random afternoon as the two girls lounged on the couch, idly flipping through channels, they stumbled upon a news report about Spiderwoman. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as she watched, her secret identity suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

"Wow, Spiderwoman is so cool," yn commented, her eyes fixed on the screen. "She's pretty hot too..." she muttered more-so to herself, Jimin still heard her comment though.

Jimin tried to suppress the surge of excitement that bubbled up inside her at yn's words. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, her heart racing as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Yeah, she's... uh, pretty cool," Jimin managed to mumble, her voice betraying her nerves.

As the report continued, Jimin couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She stole a glance at yn out of the corner of her eye, her heart swelling with affection for the oblivious girl sitting beside her.

In that moment, Jimin realized just how much she cared about yn, and how badly she wished she could share her true identity with her. But the fear of rejection still held her back, casting a shadow over her burgeoning feelings.

As the news segment came to an end and the TV screen flickered to black, Jimin was left grappling with the turmoil of her emotions, uncertain of what the future held for her and yn.

____________________

("Are you made of copper and tellurium?"

"Uh, no? Why?"

"Because you're Cu-Te!"

"Oh, Jimin, that's... something."

"Yeah, I thought it was kind of nerdy but cute. Like me."

"Definitely cute. And modest too."

"Thanks. I'll take that as a win.")

____________________

“Hey Jimin? Do you think you can help me out with this subject?”

The question was innocent enough, nothing was supposed to happen between Jimin and yn, right?

Jimin and yn sat together in their cozy dorm room, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows across the room. They had been studying for hours, their textbooks forgotten as their conversation drifted to more personal topics.

As the evening wore on, their proximity seemed to amplify the crackling tension between them. Jimin's heart raced as she stole glances at yn, her features illuminated by the gentle light. yn's laughter rang out, filling the room with its melodic cadence, and Jimin found herself captivated by the way yn's eyes sparkled with amusement.

With each passing moment, the air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken desire. Jimin's gaze lingered on yn's lips, the urge to lean in almost overwhelming. She could feel the heat of yn's breath against her skin, a tangible reminder of their closeness.

yn's fingers brushed against Jimin's hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. Their eyes met, a silent exchange of longing and yearning passing between them. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them suspended in time.

As Jimin and yn found themselves drawn closer together, the tension between them palpable, it seemed as if the world around them faded into the background. Their gazes locked, inches apart, their lips mere moments away from touching in a long-awaited kiss.

But just as they leaned in, on the precipice of that anticipated connection, Jimin's heightened senses kicked in. A familiar tingle crept up her spine, a warning sign that duty called. A new crime awaited Spiderwoman's intervention, pulling her away from the brink of intimacy with yn.

With a heavy heart, Jimin reluctantly pulled back, the disappointment evident in both their eyes. Yn's expression mirrored Jimin's own sense of longing, the momentary promise of closeness snatched away by the demands of Jimin's secret life as Spiderwoman.

Their interrupted moment hung in the air, charged with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Though duty called Jimin away, the memory of their almost-kiss lingered, a tantalizing glimpse of what could have been, leaving both girls yearning for the day they could pick up where they left off.

Somehow the almost kiss made Jimin even more awkward than she already was. Jimin didn’t know how to behave around yn. Should she keep her distance? Should she seize the day and kiss the girl? One thing was for sure, she wanted her roommate badly.

Jimin's heart skipped a beat as yn emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a towel. She tried to focus on her textbook, but her eyes kept drifting back to her roommate's figure. yn seemed oblivious to Jimin's internal struggle as she nonchalantly rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear.

Jimin cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure. "Uh, yn, do you need help finding something?"

yn turned to her, a playful grin on her lips. "No, I'm good, thanks. Just trying to decide what to wear for tonight." yn knew perfectly what kind of effect she had on Jimin and she planned to use it to her advantage.

Jimin nodded, unable to tear her gaze away. "Right, yeah, you look... um, nice."

yn giggled, seemingly unfazed by Jimin's flustered state. " In nothing but a towel? Wow. Thanks, Jimin. You're sweet."

As yn finally settled on an outfit and disappeared into her room, Jimin let out a shaky breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. Being roommates with yn was both a blessing and a curse, especially when moments like this left her feeling more than a little flustered.

____________________

("Are you a magician, yn?"

"No, why?"

"Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears."

"Smooth, Jimin."

"I try my best. So, do I get a round of applause for that one?"

"You definitely get points for creativity."

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my efforts."

"I appreciate the entertainment, that's for sure."

"I'll take what I can get. Maybe next time I'll pull a rabbit out of a hat or something."

"Looking forward to it.")

____________________

As the night enveloped the city in its dark embrace, yn found herself walking alone, lost in her own thoughts. Unbeknownst to her, danger lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike. Suddenly, a group of masked assailants emerged from the darkness, their intentions menacing and clear.

yn's heart pounded in her chest as fear gripped her, her instincts urging her to flee, but before she could react, a figure swooped down from above, a blur of red and black, swiftly dispatching yn's would-be attackers with a flurry of punches and kicks.

In the chaos of the moment, yn barely registered what was happening, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of confusion and fear. But as the dust settled and her assailants lay defeated, she found herself face to face with her savior, the enigmatic figure who had appeared out of nowhere to rescue her.

Spiderwoman stood before her, her mask concealing her identity but her presence radiating strength and reassurance. yn's eyes widened in astonishment, a mix of awe and gratitude washing over her as she realized the magnitude of what had just occurred.

"Spiderwoman...” yn began, her voice barely above a whisper “You saved me."

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Spiderwoman replied in an incredibly gentle tone. yn couldn’t shake off the fact that her gentleness felt familiar. Maybe it was a superhero thing.

yn shook her head, still reeling from the adrenaline rush of the encounter. Spiderwoman's concern was palpable, her eyes searching yn's face for any signs of injury or distress.

"I-I'm okay, thanks to you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up." The girl was clearly shaken, but she still tried to voice how grateful she was.

"Just doing my job. Stay safe out here, alright? And remember, if you ever need help, I'll be watching over you."

With that, Spiderwoman vanished into the night, leaving yn standing alone in the aftermath of the encounter. Though shaken by the ordeal, a newfound sense of reassurance settled over her, knowing that she had a guardian angel watching over her, even in the darkest of times.

As yn stepped back into the familiar surroundings of their dorm room, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter, she found Jimin sitting on her bed, a book in hand. Jimin looked up as yn entered, her eyes immediately drawn to the dreamy expression on her roommate's face.

"Hey, everything okay?" Perfect execution, Jimin!

yn, still caught in a daydream, replied to the best of her ability, "Oh, Jimin, you won't believe what just happened. I met Spiderwoman!"

Jimin's eyes widened in excitement, a grin spreading across her face at yn's words. She set her book aside, leaning forward eagerly as yn recounted the thrilling encounter with the mysterious superhero.

"No way! What was it like? Did she say anything to you?" You really are the perfect actress, Yu Jimin!

yn launched into a vivid retelling of the encounter, her words animated with the lingering rush of adrenaline and awe. She described Spiderwoman's swift intervention, her unwavering bravery in the face of danger, and the sense of reassurance she had instilled in yn with her presence.

"It was incredible, Jimin. I've never felt so safe and protected in my life." yn let out a dreamy sigh.

Jimin listened intently, her eyes shining with excitement as she hung on yn's every word. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at yn's reaction to meeting her alter ego, knowing that she had played a part in protecting and wooing her roommate.

"That's amazing, yn. I'm so glad you're okay. And hey, if you ever want to meet her again, just let me know. I might be able to arrange something." Smooth, Jimin! She’s finally yours!

yn smiled at Jimin's offer, grateful for her roommate's unwavering support and excitement. In that moment, as they shared the thrill of yn's encounter with Spiderwoman, their bond grew stronger than ever, united by a shared sense of wonder and admiration for the extraordinary hero in their midst.

However, yn didn’t know that this was only the first of many encounters she would share with Spiderwoman.

____________________

As yn made her way home through the quiet streets, the late hour casting elongated shadows across the pavement, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. She was lost in her thoughts, unaware of the vigilant figure watching over her from the rooftops above.

Suddenly, a familiar figure descended gracefully from the darkness, landing before yn with a quiet rustle of fabric. yn looked up in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognized the unmistakable silhouette of Spiderwoman.

"Spiderwoman! What a pleasant surprise." yn let out, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been dreaming about this very moment.

"Hey there, yn. Just out for a stroll?" Spiderwoman said as casually as she could.

Wait… yn?

yn froze, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her own name slipping past Spiderwoman's lips. She turned to her companion, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

yn nodded, feeling bewildered, returning Spiderwoman's smile as she fell into step beside her mysterious companion. They walked together in companionable silence for a while, the only sound the soft shuffle of their footsteps against the pavement. However, yn couldn’t brush off her surprise.

Why does she know my name?

Eventually, yn couldn't resist the urge to strike up a conversation, her curiosity piqued by the enigmatic figure at her side.

"So, Spiderwoman” yn said in an overly casual tone, “anything exciting happen tonight?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Just keeping an eye on the city." Spiderwoman said, trying her best to sound cool.

yn nodded, content to enjoy the peaceful camaraderie of their impromptu encounter. Still, she made sure to keep a close eye on her companion. Maybe she’ll let her guard down.

"So, yn..." Spiderwoman made a mistake. Again.

I got you now.

“Can I ask you a question, Spidey?”

Jimin is embarrassed by how fast her heart started beating after hearing yn refer to her by a nickname. “Sure, what’s up?”

“How did you know my name was yn? I never told you”.

Spiderwoman's mask hid the flicker of panic that flashed across her features at yn's question. She scrambled for a plausible explanation, her mind racing to come up with a convincing response.

"Um, well, you know, I, uh... I just happened to overhear it somewhere. Must have slipped out accidentally."

yn studied Spiderwoman's masked visage intently, a lingering sense of suspicion nagging at the back of her mind. However, she chose to let the matter drop for now, unwilling to push her mysterious companion any further. She is sure she’ll get her chance sooner rather than later.

"Ah, got it. Well, thanks for the company, Spiderwoman. It's always nice to have someone to walk with." She smiled in a way that gave Jimin a heart attack for a million different reasons.

"Anytime, yn. Take care on your way home." Nailed it.

With a final wave, Spiderwoman melted back into the shadows, leaving yn to ponder the intriguing encounter as she continued on her journey homeward. Despite the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn't deny the sense of comfort and reassurance that Spiderwoman's presence had brought her on this dark and lonely night.

yn stepped through the door of the dormitory, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Spiderwoman. As she entered the familiar surroundings of their shared living space, she was greeted by the sight of Jimin sitting on the couch, a playful glint in her eye.

"Hey there, yn! How was your walk?" Jimin said cheerfully.

yn's lips quirked into a knowing smile as she regarded her roommate, her suspicions about Spiderwoman's true identity suddenly crystallizing into certainty. She decided to play along for now, relishing the opportunity to keep Jimin's secret while she plotted her next move.

"Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. Although I did run into someone interesting on the way back." A slight smirk playing at her lips.

Jimin's eyes widened slightly at yn's cryptic remark, a hint of apprehension flickering across her features before she quickly masked it with an easy grin.

"Oh yeah? Who'd you meet?"

yn leaned against the doorframe, her expression enigmatic as she met Jimin's gaze head-on. Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Spidey.

"Let's just say she's someone who knows how to keep the city safe, even late at night."

Jimin's breath caught in her throat, a surge of panic coursing through her veins at yn's words. She struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing to concoct a plausible explanation for her alter ego's unexpected appearance in their conversation.

"Ha, lucky you, running into interesting people all the time!” Jimin let out an awkward laugh. “You'll have to introduce me sometime."

yn's smirk widened into a knowing grin as she watched Jimin squirm under the weight of her unspoken revelation. She made a mental note to bide her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to confront Jimin head on.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough." With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air, yn sauntered off to her room, leaving Jimin to grapple with the unsettling realization that her carefully guarded secret might not be safe for much longer.

Maybe you’re not the perfect actress, Yu Jimin.

____________________

Okay, time to do something stupid!

yn stood defiantly in the dimly lit alley, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the inevitable. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with her roommate-turned-superhero. But she couldn't resist the thrill of the chase, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she knowingly put herself in harm's way.

As she glanced nervously around the shadowy confines of the alley, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later, Spiderwoman materialized out of the darkness, her lithe figure cutting a striking silhouette against the night sky.

"yn, what are you doing here? It's not safe!" Spiderwoman exclaimed, her voice dripping with concern.

yn met Spiderwoman's concerned gaze with a defiant glint in her eye, her resolve unyielding as she faced the repercussions of her reckless actions head-on.

"I knew you'd come. I needed to prove a point."

Spiderwoman's brow furrowed in frustration, her voice tinged with exasperation as she chided yn for her foolhardy behavior.

"You can't go around doing stuff like this, yn! You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger. What if something had happened to you?" Spiderwoman said, her frustration skyrocketing. “What if I wasn’t her to protect you, huh? You’re acting like a toddler”.

yn bristled at Spiderwoman's stern tone, her own temper flaring as she pushed back against the other girl's unwavering concern.

"Yu Jimin, enough! Stop treating me like a child. I know exactly what I’m doing."

What?

The words hung heavy in the air between them, a palpable tension crackling with the weight of unspoken truths. In that fleeting moment, Spiderwoman's mask of stoicism slipped, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade.

Spiderwoman's eyes widened in shock at the sound of her real name on yn's lips, her heart skipping a beat as she grappled with the sudden shift in dynamics between them. In that brief, poignant moment, the boundaries that had once defined their relationship blurred, leaving behind a lingering sense of uncertainty and unspoken desires.

Jimin's heart pounded erratically in her chest as she watched yn's expression soften, her eyes brimming with unspoken affection. She couldn't believe she had let slip her secret identity, couldn't fathom the repercussions of her reckless actions. But as yn's gaze met hers with unwavering warmth, Jimin felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a glimmer of possibility in the midst of uncertainty.

"How... How did you find out?" Jimin’s voice barely above a whisper.

yn's smile was gentle, her voice infused with a quiet reassurance as she met Jimin's gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I noticed the little things, the way you always seem to disappear whenever trouble arises, the injuries that miraculously heal overnight. And then there was that slip-up with my name."

Jimin's shoulders sagged with relief at yn's honest confession, her heart swelling with gratitude for the other girl's unwavering acceptance.

"I'm sorry, yn. I never meant to keep this from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you." Jimin felt like she could cry, she was feeling too much at the moment. Oh brother, I need to lie down.

yn reached out to gently cup Jimin's cheek, her touch tender and reassuring as she offered the other girl a small, understanding smile.

"It's okay, Jimin. I understand. But from now on, let's promise to be honest with each other, no matter what." yn’s smile gave Jimin hope. For the first time, Jimin felt like everything was going to be okay.

Jimin nodded fervently, her heart overflowing with gratitude for yn's unwavering support. As the weight of secrecy lifted from her shoulders, Jimin felt a renewed sense of longing blossom within her, a newfound courage to embrace the vulnerabilities that lay bare between them.

"Thank you, yn. How can I make it up to you?"

yn's smile widened into a mischievous grin as she reached out to delicately trace the contours of Jimin's mask, her touch sending shivers down the other girl's spine.

"I think I have an idea." yn lowered her voice, a smirk on her lips.

With a deft motion, yn carefully pulled away Jimin's mask, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade. In that moment of unspoken intimacy, Jimin felt the walls that had once separated them crumble away, leaving behind an undeniable connection that transcended the boundaries of secrecy and fear.

As their lips finally met in a long-awaited kiss, the world around them faded into obscurity, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that pulsed between them. In that fleeting moment of shared vulnerability, Jimin and yn found solace in each other's arms, daring to believe that love might just conquer all.

____________________

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Jimin and yn had decided to spend the day together at their shared dorm room. As they lounged on the couch, Jimin scrolled through her phone while yn leaned against her, idly playing with Jimin's hair.

Suddenly, a breaking news alert flashed across the screen, announcing Spiderwoman's latest heroic feat. yn glanced up, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, as she nudged Jimin playfully. "Looks like your alter ego is making headlines again."

Jimin chuckled, leaning into yn's touch as she replied, "Yeah, she's always stealing the spotlight."

yn grinned, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Jimin's scalp as she teased, "I bet she's just trying to impress her girlfriend."

Jimin's cheeks flushed pink at the playful jab, but she couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Wrapping an arm around yn, she pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Well, she's lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend." Jimin whispered against her girlfriend’s temple. Tease me all you want, at the end of the day you still agreed to be mine.

yn grinned, leaning into Jimin's embrace as she retorted, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Spidey."

The two of them dissolved into laughter, the playful banter a comforting reminder of the easy chemistry they shared. As they snuggled together on the couch, Jimin and yn savored the simple joy of being together, grateful for the love and laughter that filled their lives.

With Jimin's arm wrapped around her and the warmth of their shared affection enveloping them, yn couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. And as they basked in each other's company, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.

____________________

("Are you a time traveler, yn?"

"No, why?"

"Because every time I look at you, I feel like I'm going back in time. To the moment I fell in love with you."

"Jimin..."

"Gotcha."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"But you love me anyway, right?"

"Always.")

____________________

A/N: Here we go, spider Jimin! I had this sitting on my drafts for the longest time, but here it is. Thank you so much for reading!

I'm working on some requests and I might add a Valentine's Day special as well. It all depends on my schedule, I'm getting a new one tomorrow so we shall see how it goes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, if you want to request something, feel free to let me know.

698 notes · View notes

monsoon-of-art · 2 years

Note

You know something? Louise kinda reminds me of an obscure golden-age DC villain named Blackrock. A higher-up at a newspaper created a superpowered suit and hypnotized people into acting like a reckless hero so his newspaper would have something to grab people's attention.

Would she be the kind of person to pull something like that?

Absolutely not. Louise actually holds justice and laws in very high regard, which is why she's so hypercritical of Dragonfly and Clay

#Louise is a good person at heart #myocs #interesting villain tho! sounds hilarious #neon hero

30 notes · View notes

tsumuus · 2 months

Text

meet cutes | my hero academia

a/n so random make ni sense and not proof read at all. i just love all these characters sm and think they need more appreciation

characters tenya iida, hanta sero, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari

masterlist

tenya iida

The bustling streets of Musutafu seemed to never quiet, especially during the evening rush hour. You hurried through the crowded sidewalks, clutching a stack of documents to your chest, trying to avoid any collisions. The sky had a gentle orange hue as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city.

Just as you rounded the corner near a small, bustling cafe, a gust of wind swept through, snatching one of your papers and sending it fluttering into the air. You gasped, reaching out futilely as it soared higher.

Suddenly, a blur of blue and white darted past you. Tenya Iida, in his hero costume, appeared, deftly catching the paper mid-air. He landed gracefully, adjusting his glasses and holding the document out to you. The sunlight framed him perfectly, making his appearance even more striking. You accepted the paper, your fingers brushing his gloved hand.

With a warm smile, he nodded at you. “Always happy to assist,” he said, before dashing off again, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a newfound admiration for the hero who had saved your day.

hanta sero

The neighborhood park was your favorite spot for a morning jog. The dew-kissed grass, the chirping of birds, and the occasional rustle of leaves created a tranquil atmosphere. As you rounded the trail's curve, you noticed a commotion near the large oak tree in the center.

Curiosity piqued, you jogged closer, only to see Sero Hanta struggling with a tangled kite. It was a bright red dragon, its tail hopelessly entwined in the branches. Sero, now a seasoned pro hero, was trying his best to free it using his tape quirk, but the kite remained stubbornly stuck.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound catching his attention. He glanced your way, sheepish but grinning. Without a word, you joined him, climbing onto a lower branch to help. The two of you worked in harmony, hands brushing occasionally, the shared effort bringing an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Finally, with a triumphant tug, the kite was free. Sero’s laughter was infectious, and as you handed the kite back to the grateful child who owned it, he gave you a thumbs up. “Great teamwork,” he said, his smile brightening your morning.

eijiro kirishima

The gym was quieter than usual, the perfect setting for a late-night workout. You focused on your routine, pushing through the last set of weights when a loud crash echoed through the space. Startled, you looked over to see Eijiro Kirishima, now a well-known hero, sheepishly picking up a toppled barbell.

He caught your gaze and grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. The dim lighting highlighted the sharp angles of his face, and you couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth in his eyes.

You walked over, offering a hand. Together, you righted the barbell, your fingers brushing against his. He chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that reverberated in the empty gym. “Guess I overestimated myself,” he admitted, his laughter contagious.

As you returned to your workout, you felt his gaze linger, a silent promise of future encounters. There was something undeniably endearing about his honest clumsiness, and you found yourself looking forward to the next time fate would bring you together.

denki kaminari

The arcade was buzzing with energy, neon lights reflecting off the polished floors and flashing screens. You weaved through clusters of gamers until you spotted Denki Kaminari, your former classmate and now a hero known for his electrifying abilities, focused intensely on a claw machine. His usual carefree grin was replaced with a determined frown as he tried to snag a plush.

You couldn’t resist joining in. Standing beside him, you both took turns maneuvering the claw. After a few failed attempts, your skillful finesse finally paid off—the claw gripped the plush snugly and dropped it into the prize chute. Denki’s eyes widened in amazement, his grin returning full force. “No way! You did it!”

He offered you the plush toy, a spark of excitement evident in his eyes as your hands briefly touched. As you walked out together, the arcade’s lights painting playful patterns on his face, Denki chattered enthusiastically about his favorite games and hero escapades. His infectious energy made the evening feel like a whirlwind of laughter and camaraderie, leaving you with a smile and a sense of eager anticipation for what could unfold between you.

225 notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months

Text

Good Luck Babe

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Wandavision

Summary: Wanda tries to push her feelings for you down by hooking up with Vision.

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, angst, no happy ending

Authors note: I never write angst or unhappy endings so I'm sorry to who this hurts but I also hurt myself with this one

The bar was buzzing with life, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor and into your bones. You tried to ignore the sight of Wanda and Vision at the other end of the room, but it was impossible. Wanda was taking shots and hanging all over Vision, her laughter piercing through the crowd. The two of them were kissing, and you felt a pang of jealousy and frustration.

You sipped your drink, your eyes occasionally drifting back to them. When Wanda stumbled to the bar next to you, your eyes shot her a glance. "You know kissing him isn't gonna change anything. It's not gonna stop the feelings, little witch."

Wanda turned to you, her eyes widening slightly as your words seemed to almost sober her up. "It's just the way I am. I can do whatever I want, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes at her words. "Make a new excuse, Wands, another stupid reason. This isn't you. It certainly isn't the girl I rescued in Sokovia who didn't think she could ever be a hero."

Your words felt like venom to Wanda. Her expression hardened, her walls going up completely as she grabbed a glass and downed a double shot. You watched her, your heart aching as you saw the pain flicker in her eyes for a brief moment before she turned back to Vision.

You knew this wasn’t the real Wanda, the Wanda you knew and cared about. But confronting her like this, in a bar full of people, felt like the only way to get through to her. You just hoped that somewhere beneath the bravado and the alcohol, she was still listening.

Without thinking, you grabbed her arm, pulling her against you so your lips crashed together. The kiss was electric, a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, Wanda moved with you, her body instinctively responding to the passion. But then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to like this, like you, and pulled away, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and defiance.

"You'd have to stop the world just to stop this feeling," you said, your voice low and intense. You searched her green eyes, hoping to see a flicker of the connection you once had, but she gave nothing. Her face was a mask, hiding whatever was going on inside.

You scoffed, frustration and hurt boiling over. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a $50 bill, slamming it down on the bar. "Well, good luck, babe." You patted her shoulder, the gesture more resigned than affectionate, before turning and making your way out of the bar.

As you walked away, the neon lights outside the bar flickered, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet pavement. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You knew you couldn't let Wanda see your vulnerability, not now.

Behind you, Wanda watched you go, her own tears threatening to spill. She quickly wiped them away, her tough facade cracking for just a moment. She felt the weight of her own actions pressing down on her, but she couldn't bring herself to chase after you. The distance between you felt wider than ever, and the pain of it cut deep.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. The city buzzed around you, indifferent to your heartache. You glanced back at the bar one last time, hoping to see her following you, but the door remained closed.

With a heavy heart, you started walking, each step taking you further away from the bar and from Wanda. The night felt endless, the stars above indifferent to the turmoil within you. You wondered if things would ever change, if the walls between you and Wanda would ever come down. But for now, all you could do was keep moving forward, hoping that someday, somehow, the love you felt for her would find its way back.

As you walked away from the bar, memories flickered through your mind like a film reel. The first time you met Wanda in Sokovia, the city in ruins around you. She had been scared and unsure, her powers raw and unrefined. You had seen something in her, a spark of potential, and had reached out to help her.

The days that followed were filled with moments that etched themselves into your heart. Bringing Wanda to the compound, seeing her eyes widen with wonder as she took in her new surroundings. The two of you training together, her powers growing stronger and more controlled under your guidance.

You remembered the quiet evenings watching sitcoms, Wanda's favorite way to unwind. Her laughter was infectious, and you found yourself falling for her more with each passing day. The kitchen became a shared sanctuary, where you'd cook together, teasing and tasting, creating more than just meals but memories.

There were the late-night make-out sessions, stolen moments of intimacy that spoke volumes of the unspoken bond between you. Each touch, each kiss, deepened the connection, making it hard to imagine life without her. You had been her first in so many ways—her first real friend, her first confidant, her first love.

Now, all of that seemed like a distant dream as you walked away from the bar. The warmth of those memories contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the present. You had tried to break through her defenses tonight, but she had shut you out, leaving you to grapple with the ache of loss.

The city lights blurred as tears filled your eyes, the weight of the past and present pressing down on you. You knew that things couldn't stay like this forever, but you also knew that it would take time for the wounds to heal.

As you turned the corner, you took one last look back at the bar. Wanda was still inside, her silhouette framed by the neon lights. You hoped that somewhere in her heart, she still felt the connection that had once brought you together. And maybe, just maybe, she would find her way back to you.

A sigh escaped your lips, knowing you needed to just leave this all behind.

“Good luck love…”

#ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wandavision #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

212 notes · View notes

r4spb3rr13s · 4 months

Note

holds out my hands

greeting my mcbling angel

maybe i pretty please ask for shoto, iida and denki meeting their own mcbling hottie 🙏🙏🙏

- 🍥 anon

pro heroes meeting their mcbling gf

♱ todoroki, iida, kaminari

♱ pt.1 here pt.3 here

notes : ur too cute anon 🥰🥰

Shoto has been stood staring at his options for soba for the past ten minutes. He’s deep in decision, hand on chin, in the middle of the store just before closing.

So deep in thought, he’s completely oblivious to you strutting round the corner to the aisle he stood in.

You’re on your phone, moving by muscle memory. Your favourite noodles are always in the same spot, so your uggs lead you to where the soba is-

But you look up.

Shoto- your favourite pro hero, for reference- is stood like the motherfucking Thinker. In your presence.

You backpedal, but it’s too late- he’s seen you!

Shoto turns you to and his eyes widen. You’re in a neon pink graphic cami, big hoops hiding from beneath (locs/braids/curls/strands) and as his eyes trail down…

His cheeks go as pink as the thong peeking out your pants’ waistband. I mean, Shoto didn’t really have time to register your slack jaw.

There’s so much running through your head at the minute- who wears a black compression shirt to the store? How are his muscles bigger in real life than on billboards? Why does his hair look so soft?

He coughs and it breaks the moment.

“Oh- sorry, can I just-”

“Yeah, I apologise,” He replies. When you lean over to grab your noodles, a waft of sugary, almost sickly, perfume hits his nose. It was intoxicating- not in a bad way.

You’re trying to steady your breathing- he’s just another guy, Y/n, chill! Boys fall left and right for you, just breathe.

Breathe.

“You’re Shoto right?”

Ohmygodidiotidiotofcoursehe’sshotowhaythefuckyo-

“Yes, that’s me.” He smiles slightly, corners of his lips lifting. Every nerve in your body is screaming to swoon - maybe he’d catch your fainting body?

You could look into his gorgeous eyes, and he’d brush the hair from your face-

“Is everything alright?”

You snap out of your daydream and smile awkwardly. “Uh… I’m just a big fan, is all.”

He nods and smiles down at you, softly. You clear your throat and hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“I like your clothes.”

Your world stops for a minute. How do you breath again? It’s not hard, Y/n, come on-

“Where did you get the inspiration?” He says. Shoto makes no move to leave - you’re not an annoying fan, begging for his autograph.

Plus, you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen.

You blink owlishly at him - his heart skips a beat, of course - and you just nod dumbly for a second. Then, it registers that he’s actually interested in you?

“Umm… 2000s stuff, American celebrities mainly. What about you?”

Shoto huffs a chuckle, “I don’t really have style.” He glances at his watch, and his smile morphs into a… pout? It’s subtle, but his brows furrow ever-so-slightly, and his bottom lip just out a little bit.

“Oh God, don’t let me keep you,” You hurry. Good lord, your face is burning up aggressively.

He shakes his head, but bites his lip still looking at his watch. “No, I’m on shift soon… it was nice meeting you…?”

“Oh, Y/n!”

Shoto smiles again, glances at his watch with an internal frustrated groan. He needed more time to talk to you, to understand you, to get to the bottom of the neon pink and leopard print-

Oh, right.

“Could I get your number, Y/n?”

:::

Tenya spent his nights going on walks. Why? Because he liked to meet his neighbours’ dogs… did he know that’s why he liked them, however? No. He just thought walking around gave him immense joy for no reason.

And they call him ‘smart’.

His favourite dogs were the least of worries when he walked past the park and heard shouting.

Tenya’s head snapped to, and he was marching through the park gates.

You, a grown woman, were stood on a table, wafting away… chihuahuas. You, in a tiny denim skirt and a babydoll top, were using your small purse to shoo away a trio of stray chihuahuas.

In all fairness, Tenya disliked chihuahuas the most of all the dogs he’d met, but he’s never seen someone in platform sneakers clamber onto a picnic bench to get away from them. Or scream at the top of their lungs at the tiny puppies.

He could not help but let out a laugh at the sight, making you look up at him. You straightened up a bit and stopped screaming, but still sounded shaky.

“You’re that hero right?”

“My name is Ingenium, yes,” he replied. One of the rat-dogs had turned to growl at him now, but Tenya paid no mind to it.

You pointed at the dogs. “Could you… y’know, be a hero and save me?”

He raised a brow without meaning to. He shouldn’t be judging you for your fears - he’s a hero! Here to help everyone!

But still… three tiny dogs?

He sighed and nodded. Suddenly, all three dogs were in his arms, and being carried towards the kid’s sandbox. He paid no mind to them nipping and jumping up- not like they could escape his large forearms.

Large firearms that you were looking at with much interest…

He returned, ignoring the yapping puppies trying to escape the gates, but not being tall enough to get out. “I’ll call animal control, Miss…”

“Oh, just call me Y/n. What should I call you?” You asked, taking his hand and stepping down.

Tenya tried to ignore how small your hand was in his, or how your skirt hitched up your thighs when you stepped down. Instead, he helped you stand upright on your wobbly legs, and pushed down his blush when you thanked him.

“Iida. Tenya Iida.”

You looked him up and down. Tenya Iida was tall, broader than a fridge and had glasses you desperately wanted to push up his nose for him.

“Well, Tenya Iida… can I take you out for a drink to thank you?”

Tenya froze and he couldn’t stop the red that stretched across his face at your question. But he nodded. But it was so unprofessional! A true hero would never use a victim’s position to their advantage, the power imbalance was-

“I’ll need your number then!” You sang out.

Tenya’s internal protests were lost as he passed you his phone, and you type in your digits with your long, zebra print nails.

:::

Now, Denki has met a few of Mina’s friends. They were all… nice. He flirted casually, maybe exchanging numbers with them, but they never ended up getting a call.

So when Mina announced she was bringing ‘fresh meat’ to their group’s monthly reunion, he didn’t really prepare himself for much.

Then, you walked in.

All giggles, sparkly black eyeshadow and lipgloss. Mina was whispering in your ear before strutting you through the doorway, but Denki was more focused on your shiny lips curling up into a grin.

A black tube top held you in, pink bikini straps wrapping around the back of your neck. His eyes travelled down- shamelessly, might I add- to the leggings hugging your curves. ‘PINK’ written on your ass caught his attention like a siren, and your matching hot pink toes from your sandals didn’t help either.

“This is Y/n!”

Katsuki and Eijiro barely looked up, immersed in an aggressive game of … cards, or something - Denki was not paying attention to them. He was, however, paying keen attention to the once-over Hanta gave you.

Mina grabbed your bangled-wrist and tugged you to sit with her between the two boys.

The unmistakeable scent of sugar and apples wafted over his face when you sat down. You shot him a big, toothy grin and Denki thought he was going to short-circuit right there-

He didn’t realise he actually was letting off electricity until he watched your hair stand on end.

“What the…” You tried to pat your hair down, while Mina cackled behind you. The pink woman draped an arm around your shoulder.

“Aww, Denki’s all nervous! Look at him!”

You stopped focusing on your hair and looked at the man next to you. Lean, tan and blushing furiously. He was, in truth, letting sparks fly off him like a faulty wire.

You chuckled, “You alright?”

Denki did not know what to do. You were staring at him with a cheeky smile, eyes wide and soft, and his friends were laughing and pointing at him behind you.

“Yes.” It was the only word the poor boy could get out. You snorted at him and rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone.

He watched with wide eyes as you grabbed his hand but you pulled back for a minute when he shocked you.

“Shit- sorry-”

“Just put your number in my phone, okay?”

You held out the device in your hand with a cocky grin.

Mina had to usher him to another room to calm down before he blew your phone up in his hand by accident….

note: pls shoto is so OOC IDFK HOW TO WRITE HIM 😭

#{ mcbling baddie }#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #iida tenya #iida #iida x reader #denki #denki kaminari #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons

1K notes · View notes