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#(at least I hope they read as gender neutral)
smallestapplin · 2 days
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hi so i just saw your castlevania stuff and i LOVE what you do!!! im FEASTING over here!!! can i get Vlad fluff please i love my husband so much, can be anything; fluff, first meeting, wedding; im gonna love it either way :3
*cracks knuckles* I got you homie
Reader is gender neutral ^^
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Despite the castle being surrounded in an eternal night you can still feel the morning in your bones as you awake, the moon light still being all that peers from the windows. Your room is warm with the sound of the fireplace softly crackling from the foot of your bed, illuminating the dark room with a gentle light.
And yet you still feel groggy, your bed far too cozy for you to get up just yet. You roll over, hoping to snuggle up to your husband, only to be met with nothing just more bed.
A displeased groan leaves your throat as you open your eyes, squinting at the empty spot that now offends you. You know Vlad doesn't need sleep or at least as much sleep as you do, it would be wrong to demand him to stay put while you slept for so many hours.
But normally he's memorized the times you wake up and is there before you do, happy to greet you from your slumber, or at least lay with you as he reads a book.
You grumble more, taking the pillow from his side of the bed to hold close to your chest and roll back to your side, curling up with your back facing the door. His scent on the pillow is faint, but it's enough to soothe you back to sleep.
You're not sure how long you napped for, but you know you're awoken by the sound of the heavy oak door creaking open and oh so quietly being shut, but you don't move, still processing the truama that is waking up.
You don't hear foot steps, but that's normal when your beloved is King of the night.
"Dear, I know you're awake. Won't you indulge me with your grace?"
You still don't move to face him, pouting as you hug his pillow tighter. Dracula laughs softly, shaking his head at your antics.
"My love, is this about me not being here when you awoke?"
"No, the room is a little chill- of course it is. My own husband, abandoned me leaving me in my lonesome! Such a large empty bed, with my beloved gone-"
You roll onto your back throwing an arm over your eyes dramatically. Your arm his grabbed and pulled away from your face, letting you lock eyes with Dracula's amber ones.
You smile at him, unable to even pretend to be mad at him.
"I'm sorry, dearest, Death required me for far longer than I had anticipated. In truth I missed seeing your peaceful face." Dracula moves his free hand to your face, carefully cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.
His long nail delicately dragging across your skin with every move, it honestly tickles you can't hold back a soft giggle.
You pull your arm free from his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.
"I suppose I can forgive you, but on one condition."
To think you're making a deal with the king of vampires, Lord Dracula himself, tempting him. His lays his forward against yours, seemingly unbothered by your teasing.
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"I get...hmmm....three kisses and one hour of cuddles, cause I know you're a busy man but it's the least you can do after leaving by my lonesome."
His chuckle bleeds into a deep purr rumbling within his chest.
"Of course, anything for my betrothed."
How can he be mad when you look so smug and proud of yourself like this? He tilts your chin up giving him easier access to your lips. You tighten your arms around him, pulling him as close as you can, before your lips mesh in a slow but firm kiss. His facial hair tickling your skin.
When he pulls away your eyes flutter open.
"That was one."
"Oh, are you counting now? Do you only want three, or should I spoil you a little more?"
You perk up at his words, always eager for more of your husband's love.
"Well since you mentioned it, I'm always happy to get more kisses from you."
Dracula chuckles before moving his hands to your hips and flipping you both over, swapping places as he lays back against the large and lavish bed, with you laid perfectly on his chest.
"Who am I to deny my love?"
How he wishes he could stay cozied up with you like this forever.
Your giggles filling the room along side the crackling fire, you continuously kissing him, if not his lips then his cheek and neck, just wanting more and more affection and to spoil him as he spoils you.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 10 months
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Animal Farm: Tuesdays
Three Yandere Dog Men x Gender Neutral Reader
CW: Noncon, knotting, nonhuman genitals, cum swallowing, spitroasting, biting, male harem, dog men, reader fucked silly, general yandere behavior, licking, scent marking Word Count: 555 (The next long awaited installment in my farm series. I hope you all love it. <3 I did not bother having this beta read, sorry for any mistakes. The original fic can be found HERE along with the links to the other installments)
You were still tired from the thorough orgy that the harpies had given. At least they provided you with plenty of gentle aftercare. But now it was Tuesday. And that meant that you were the property of the dog-men. Another day in the endless cycle of being a cumdump for horny monster men. You really dreaded time with the dogs. They always ended up biting the hell out of your neck. You entered the small cabin that the dog men inhabited and one of the cat men, Lionel, came stumbling out with a dazed look on his face and cum dribbling down his thighs. Good… maybe that would mean there urges were already taken care o- Your train of thought was interrupted when you were thrown on the bed by the most assertive of the three dog men, the one that had the ears and tail of s German Shepherd, Thorn. His claws slid under your waist band and partially pulled down to reveal your hole which he lapped at like a treat. “Fuck, I have been waiting a week for this farmer~” Apparently breeding Lionel did nothing to quell the desire to bury their knots in you. When he got tired of fucking you with his tongue he slid his dick in to the base, the bone in it jabbed you painfully until it mercifully swelled to full size. The stretch was only mildly uncomfortable. After bringing you to climax his knot inflated in you and kept the two of you tied with him periodically humping gently to enjoy the sweet friction against his knot as he plied you full of his hot seed. He gave your neck a quick bite before sliding out of you and then before you knew it one of the other two, this time the husky-like dog man, Corr, was slamming into you. But the third, Len, the fluffy one that had the features of a Newfoundland, couldn’t wait his turn. So while Corr was busy breeding your overstimulated hole Len took it upon himself to slide past your soft lips. The smell of his musky cock filled your nostrils as his nuts slapped your chin with every thrust. You whimpered and moaned lustfully into his cock as Corr started to knot you. Corr bit you on your shoulders and back as he began the long process of slowly depositing cum in waves into you as dog men did. Your body shook as you came again, but you started gagging a bit as Len knotted in your mouth. His dick twitched periodically as it sent another wave of bitter cum down your throat, leaving you no other option but to swallow. If you thought you were done you were sorely mistaken. Thorn had gotten hard again and plunged his cock right back into your now cum-lubed hole the second Corr had pulled out of it. A few hours later, when the fuck fest was finally done, the dog men all turned very loving and gentle. They licked you clean of their seed and bathed you, but they rubbed your clothes with their scent before allowing you to get dressed again. They spent the rest of the day feeding, cuddling, and caring for their little mate who was too dazed and tired from all the sex to really do much.
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dwaekkicidal · 5 months
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What is stray kids favorite position to have sex? What do you think? This been on my mind for while
the way I was actually thinking about this a few days ago LOL hope you enjoy <3
OT8's Favorite Positions (Rough+Soft Ver)
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gender neutral, not pure smut but mentions of specific situations, Seungmin and Jeongin are mean in their 'rough' parts, switch mentions in Felix's part
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: these were SUPPOSED be short but i got a little carried away.. lol. also very poorly proofread cause I'm having sleep issues atm, once I sleep at least a few hours I'll come back to proof read (and probably tweak some things)
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗
Rough
If he's fucking you during his Daddy/dom moments, a nice downward dog (flat doggy basically). As long as he can tower over you and fuck you until you remember your place, he's happy! Specifically downward dog because he can use those muscles he's been working so hard on to hold you down against the bed and be rough with his thrusts, all while not adding any extra strain to either of you. Runs his hands roughly up and down your back, leaving smacks to your ass before squeezing it right after. If he's in a particularly rough mood, will grab a handful of your hair to pull at and guide you.
Soft
I think he would be a big missionary person when he's making love to you. Likes to be able to see your face and leave kisses all over your frontside while he fucks you. Even more so if he's extra moody/sappy, so he can sloooowly fuck into you and keep his thick lips locked with yours, hands caressing up and down your body as he whispers all sorts of sugar coated praises to you. "You're doing so well for me." "God, I love you so much. You're fucking perfect."
𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚠
Rough
Good ol' doggy style for because he loooves the control it gives him over you >.< Has a hand between your shoulder blades (or on your lower back) to hold you down, all while his other hand holds your hip to pull you against him (or to land slaps to your ass cheeks). Even better for days he wants to be mean or is just lazy; instead of doing the work he can just make you fuck yourself against him while he degrades you and lands smacks to your ass. Calls you a greedy slut for needing him in your hole so bad and smirks when you clench harder and moan into the sheets
Soft
Also doggy because he can lean over you, controlling the pace to be slower or softer while his chest is pressed to your back. Will slide one of his hands against your stomach in order to hold you against him so he can leave kisses to your cheeks, behind your ear, and against your neck.
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚋𝚒𝚗
Rough
I think he'd love carrying you while fucking up into you. I discovered the name for the one I had in mind being: 'Aquaman's Delight' or 'H2Ohh Yeah' I absolutely hate the names but it's when you're facing him and he's holding you up, your legs off the floor and resting against his inner elbow. Loves it because he gets to show off how strong his is to you while simultaneously being able to bury deep when he lifts you, then drops you onto his dick. This position also allows you both to be intimate when necessary, loving gazes and messy kisses being exchanged as he fucks you against him like his own personal fleshlight
Soft
Big fan of face off (face to face & upright riding) for when he wants to be extra intimate. Will take advantage of the closeness this position allows. Holds you tightly against him as he fucks up into you, and will keep your lips locked against his as much as you allow him to. When you aren't kissing, his face is shoved into your neck as he moans against the skin there, placing kisses when he's not busy being distracted with how well you take him (mr. can't do 2 things at once)
𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚗
Rough
Likes taking you from the back; likes to bend you over every surface he can think of so he can watch your ass jiggle from his hips slamming against it. Likes it also because he can trap your hands against the flat of your back with one of his big hands OR can pull your hands back towards him and use it as leverage to fuck into you even harder than he was before. Def grabs handfuls of your ass any chance he gets. I could see him preferring to finish on your ass so he can watch his dick paint your ass cheeks like he does with his canvases. Some dirty talk here and there like "Yeah? 'M in your guts? But baby.... that's just. how. you. like. it." and thrusts between the last syllables
Soft
Any position he can be embrace you with, but specifically can see him being an (open legged) spoon lover. Something about holding you as close to him as physically possible while still being able to rut/grind his hips against yours nicely. Bonus points for open legged because it gives him easier access to play between your legs. The intimacy goes CRAAZY, his hands holding you in place while he fucks into you nice and slow. Def leaves wet kisses and hickies all over your neck. Only downside is when he strains his (and your) neck when he wants your lips on his. But when his hands are all over you like this, how can you say no to those pillowy lips? >.<
𝙷𝚊𝚗
Rough
A "Pretzel Dip" enjoyer. This is when you're laid on your back and he's straddling one of your legs as he holds the other up to his chest. Goes nice and deep like this, and can fuck into you roughly while still getting to see your face scrunch up. Uses it to his advantage if you try to hide your face from him or try to muffle your moans, will grab your wrists and use his grip on them to pull you into him as he thrusts forward roughly. It completely stops you from hiding from him and gives him the chance to see your mouth part and spill the prettiest whines at how deep he hits.
Soft
I had to google the name for this lol Likes rocking horse: kind of hard to explain but it's when he's sat with spread legs and you sit facing him, your legs spread and slotted on each side of him. Likes it because it lets you both stare into each other and grind your hips against each other at whatever pace feels good at the time. Some days it can be just messy, desperate grinding while others can be slow hip thrusts from both of you. This position also allows him to embrace when he wants you close. Will make out with you any chance he gets when he's not moaning and groaning.
𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡
Rough
Basic bitch 69 enjoyer. Allows both sides to push for/give up control before any penetration takes place. If you like the back and forth, he'll be on the bottom and roughly rut his hips into your mouth while you grind down into him. Or if you want to avoid the fight, he'll immediately concede and let you ride his face until you're satisfied OR he'll take control and grab a handful of your hair, using it as leverage to control your head movements. Will land a playful slap or two to your ass, but loves squeezing/massaging the flesh there more than anything.
Soft
Another name I had to google lol Perch/Seated rear entry Specifically for moments when he's gaming. If he knows he won't be finished soon and you're too needy, he'll shove his shorts and underwear down and make you sit on his dick facing forward so you can keep yourself entertained. Mainly uses it for cock warming, but won't complain if you grind yourself down onto him or start riding him.
𝚂𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚖𝚒𝚗
Rough
Another doggy lover, BUT I'm gonna say cowgirl not only for the sake of not repeating so much, but also because he likes be a little mean with it. It lets him boss you around when you've given him full control (and lets him smack you around when you aren't going fast enough for his liking). He can lay back and smile at you all cockily while you ride his dick desperately, and depending on what your limits are he'll spew mean comments here and there. He's a little shit™ so I can see him smacking your ass to watch your hips slow and stutter, then have the audacity to go, "What are you slowing down for? I never said we were done."
Soft
When his in softer moods, another face off enjoyer: it allows him to hold you close and thrust himself up into you whenever you start getting tired. If his lips aren't against yours, then your foreheads are resting against each other so he can watch you melt into a puddle for him up close. His hands roam all over your thighs before going up to your hips then finally resting on your waist as he hugs you there and pulls you closer
𝙸.𝙽
Rough
Seashell!!! This is the name for when he has you folded, back against the bed and ankles by his head while he leans onto you, albeit this position does eventually hurt depending on your flexibility. (this is also the position used in the teasing fic I wrote for him) Sorry not sorry but still on my big dick!Jeongin agenda. This position lets him go deeeep.. so he always takes advantage of it to bully into you as much as possible. Makes him feel all dominant when you can't form sentences properly and basically drool while looking up at him so helplessly. Little shit™ #2 and will laugh in your face when you start crying from how deep he is. If it's within your limits, and will definitely mock you and tease about, "I thought you said you can take it? Why are you suddenly babbling like you have no brain?" and "Are you that cock dumb already? We just started haha." Straight up laughs at you & doesn't shut up
Soft
When he wants to be softer, missionary (aka still seashell but without the muscle strain). It allows him to be close to you, placing soft kisses all over your face while he fucks into you. Also does not shut up here, and will whisper chants of "Jagiya" against your neck as he sucks hickies there. If/When he praises you, I think he'd still be a little mean about it; "Fuck, Jagiya... Finally taking me without crying about it" teasingly and chuckles. Also a "You're doing so well for me. Keep squeezing me, Jagi. Yeahhh... just like that.."
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@jiminssluttyminx
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areislol · 1 year
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genshin men getting reverse isekai’d into creator! reader’s world
►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader
►— warnings. fluff, although it is a gender neutral reader it does mention afab reader, lowercase intended, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️
►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.
►— a/n. i have been meaning to write isekai’d or reverse isekai’d fic for SO long but i’ve been busy and procrastinating so 😢 this is sagau!!
►— wordcount. 3.8k
✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five |more tba.. NAVIGATION
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at first, it was the genshin men who wanted you to be transported into their world. you know.. the world you’re familiar with. but somehow albedo’s machine malfunctioned and did the opposite of what it was supposed to do.
it was a normal day, well for the residents of teyvat who were just minding their own business, but not for the men who had gave away nearly all of their mora for albedo’s machine to work.
a very selected few men from each region gathered to mondstadt (sometimes it took a few days for a week to arrive there but they were determined to arrive there faster as they didn’t want to waste time).
kaeya, diluc, venti and albedo from mondstadt gathered were anticipating for the day albedo would put out the news that the machine would finally work. everyday when they had spare time or whenever they could, they would vist albedo in dragonspine and check up on the machine and ask for the good news
if albedo needed anything or needed some mora (or if he needed someone to run errands for him) they would happily oblige, anything for their grace.
zhongli, xiao, baizhu from liyue would anticipate for the news ever since they had gotten the information and letter from albedo himself as well from jean about the machine that would supposedly bring the creator to their world.
they immediately started to help with whatever they could, even travelling to mondstadt to see if there was anything they could help or provide with, if nothing they would stay for however long they could and watch albedo work on it, fiddling with their fingers or twisting their articles of clothing from anticipation, trying to hold back their excitement and joy of finally meeting their creator.
zhongli is one of the few who were your oldest worshippers, in his prime he would sculpt many statues of you, based on what the scripts had described of what the creator looked like and he was sure that it was one his most best work in his lifetime.
zhongli definitely gave albedo all of his mora, not caring if he needed them to buy food to eat, why worry about that when he has something else to prioritise? all he needed was you, to survive.
kazuha, itto, gorou, ayato, heizou and thoma from inazuma was ecstatic at the news of your soon arrival!! they spent their minutes, hours and days filled with excitement and could not focus on anything.
although ayato was calm and collected, there was no denying that deep inside he was freaking out like c’mon? the creator is finally descending? after thousands of years? and they expect him to be calm? no way.
all gave albedo and sucrose their up most help. giving him materials that would only be found in their region and not in mondstadt, for the machine. in their spare time they would fight the enemies and gather whatever they dropped and send it to albedo in the hopes that it would be a major help to the machine (it was and albedo sent his thanks in a letter).
cyno, al-haitham, kaveh, wanderer and tighnari from sumeru was shocked to say the least, at first they were wary of the news. i mean of course they believed in you, and the story of your descent but at the same time how could they trust this.. albedo person? but after getting the letter inviting them to dragonspine to see the machine for themselves and to see his blueprints, notes and so on, they agreed and once arriving, they definitely believed him.
after confirming that everything was real, they began to team up with albedo (if he allowed them but albedo was more than happy for some help as he was getting tired just from doing majority of the things with sucrose..) and helping him. kaveh was an architect so he helped albedo with the model of the machine and with al-haithams, tighnari and wanderer’s knowledge they began to make the machine more safe and reliable.
they’re all very happy and overjoyed knowing that soon they will bring their creator back to where they belong, just knowing the fact that they will soon be able to see and witness their grace in their glory and flesh was everything.
lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, freminet and aether from fontaine was more than ecstatic upon hearing the news. lyney started to practise more with his magic tricks, trying to add more action and more of the surprise factor in his tricks so that he could impress you and hear you praise him.
neuvillette almost cried tears of joy (and flooded fontaine) at the letter albedo sent to him. just looking at the sentence “we will be able to see our grace soon, please help in anyway you can.” made his eyes water.
he started to mentally and physically prepare himself for your arrival, making sure to look his best and presentable, while also preparing for how he would greet you. a bow would do- no.. a bow where his forehead touched the ground, yes, that will do. he couldn’t wait for your arrival (even explaining to the very excited melusines too about his profound love and adoration for you).
neuvillette admired you from hundreds of years ago, hearing your stories and heroic acts made him fall more in love with you. he goes to your temple (that he made by himself) and prays every day before going to bed.
wriothesley, freminet and aether on the other hand was more calm although nervous at the same time. wriothesley (and everyone else) had heard many great stories about you, the great power you hold like no other, your kindness, your hospitality, your beauty—everything. so there was nothing else he wanted than to witness you in the flesh, although he is scared what your beauty may blind him.
aether is also anticipating your arrival, when he was younger his parents would tell him the great stories about you and how the elements came about, not only that but he has a hunch that you could possibly help him find his sister, no.. he’s positive you will.
and from the other regions, childe, capitano, dottore, pantalone, pierro and dainsleif were almost going batshit crazy once word spread that the creator was going to be teleported into their world from albedo’s machine. dainsleif could feel it in him, he could feel the shift in teyvat, the way the trees and nature around him started to be more responsive and grow more large and.. prettier?
the fatui had paused all of their plans and focused soley on you, their creator. they wanted to make sure that the archons or anyone else doesn’t reach you but.. that would be diffcult considering that a non fatui was creating this machine along with the help with so many different people from different regions.
they had always worshipped you and was hopelessly devoted to you, giving you gifts right below your statue, sometimes even ranting to you about their problems and how the archons were absolutely useless.
dainsleif was.. consumed with many emotions. he believed that he was one of your most devoted and the most loyal of them all followers. he believed that your word was law and whatever you ordered him to do or whatever order you give to anyone, they should obey. and if not he would love nothing more than to deal with them, anything for you.
altogether, they all (reluctantly cough cough the fatui, diluc, tighnari and wanderer cough cough) helped cooperate with bringing you back to the world you belong in, giving albedo thousands and millions of mora, any material from their home region, their support and so on. that was how devoted they were to you.
and finally, the day albedo and sucrose sent out all of letters telling them that the machine was ready, everybody came scurrying to dragonspine, their hearts racing in an inhumane beat, once they all arrived they were swearing BULLETS and albedo offered them all towels since he knew none of them would like to be presented to the almight creator looking… sweaty.
everybody stood around the machine, their eyes shining with excitement and their hearts beating from nervousness, and on the count to three, albedo would turn the notch and whatever came next, well, they would just have to cross their fingers and pray.
“1..”
“2..”
“3..!”
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albedo turned the notch on the machine and within a milisecond a bright light had appeared, blinding everyone as they quickly raised their arm to cover their eyes.
some started to cough as smoke filled the room, many yelling in confusion, yelling on top of their lungs if it worked to which no one replied of course, they couldn’t open their eyes nor felt anything different until their bodies started to feel all gooey like they were melting. their vision (despite covering their eyes) was going white, their mind was foggy and they were dizzy.
but after a few seconds they felt better, they felt like they were in a different place, they could sense it.. after waving their hands away to clear the smoke and before they knew it, they were in a totally different room and place. they were inside of a room, not a room from their world, their was unknown technology on a desk that they have never seen before. there was unknown stuff all around them.
they all looked around in confusion, taking in everything. “where are we?” “what is this place” “are we going to meet our grace?”
suddenly, zhongli spotted someone on the bed, sleeping calmly despite all of the ruckus they had caused. zhongli shushed everybody to which some scowled at (wanderer mainly) and before they could argue back, he pointed at you.
pointing at the sleeping figure on the bed wanderer immediately shut his mouth. it was dark so they couldn’t make out your face but no worries! your phone just lit up and everybody looked at it, curious at the light device. kazuha paid no mind to it and grabbed the strange device before shining it on your face. his breath hitched, stumbling back just a bit.
everybody else looked at your face and was stunned. their voice caught in their throats as they finally, finally saw you, their grace.
your beauty was like no other, even the little drool seeping out of the corner of your lips were adorable!
some started to sob quietly, too overwhelmed with their feelings and with the fact that they just saw their creator (neuvillette, lyney, childe and zhongli a little bit..). while everyone else was murmuring under their breaths about what they should do, you were sleepinf peacefully. and everytime you moved in your sleep everybody would tense up and hold their breaths, scared to wake you up (and scare you in you did).
but after a few minutes you did wake up, to their horror and fascination. you rubbed your eyes and looked around groggily and through the seeping moonlight through your blinds you could make out the many black silhouettes in your room, surrounding you.
freaking out, you held your breath and tried to calm yourself down, telling you that your mind was playing tricks on you but after gulping and turning on your lamp to just reassure you it was nothing, you saw many men surrounding you, wincing at the sudden light.
your jaw dropped before screaming absolute bloody murder, grabbing your pillows and (your poor) plushies and throwing it at the unknown men in your room, closing your eyes shut you prayed to god that this was just a dream when someone spoke.
his voice was dreamy and so soft although deep, like silk. it flowed smoothly like running water.
“are you alright, your grace?”
your what? opening your eyes, you could see that some of the men were grabbing a hold of your plushies while some were on the floor, meaning some did get hid while some others didn’t.
wait a minute.. as you took a closer look at the people you realise that it’s…
“zhongli..?” you mumbled, squinting your eyes to see if it was really him and there was no doubt it was really him. you could see his eyes lighting up, he seemed really happy that you said his name, it was sort of cute.
that was when childe and heizou along with others pushed zhongli, trying to get your attention as they called you their “grace” and acted really really happy to see you.
observing everyone you soon realise that all of these men are all from the very famous game you play—genshin impact. “w-wait a minute.. zhongli-“ you point at him, he nods with a tender smile, you could only smile back nervously, totally unaware of the death glares zhongli was getting.
“heizou, childe, thoma, dainsleif, xiao.. holy crap!” your eyes widen and you hop off your bed, slipping on your slippers are you look at everyone else. “this isn’t real…” you mumbled, holding your head with one of your hands. looking around once more you felt the very intense gazes of the very handsome men staring you down.
your cheeks flushed red as you took in the fact that these handsome men are fighting for your attention, and are literally standing in your room and just.. there!!
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walking back into your room, you yank the mattress with all your strength when dainsleif and xiao walked up to you, offering you help to which you shake your head at. “no i’m good, thank you though!”
everybody was waiting patiently for you as you set down the mattress.
“okay.. you guys can sit and sleep there for now.. now tell me what happened. as far as i know you two aren’t from this world, obviously because you are all from genshin impact! you know, the game?”
you said, sitting down on your bed as you watched some of them sit on the mattress while some stood beside the mattress.
they all nodded before albedo spoke. “you see, your grace, we intended to bring you back to our world because that is where you belong—the world you created.” he began, looking into your eyes to look for any reaction.
your eyes widened at his words. “me..?” you said in disbelief. “oh.. uh continue!” albedo continued on.
“and we spent many months working on the machine, and today i had finished it, i called everybody else who are in your room and i turned the notch, and there was blinding light, and then we were in your room.”
you nod your head at his words, taking in the information. “i’m just as confused as you are, your grace.” albedo reassures you, you could only give him a small smile before speaking again.
“listen i’m just.. i’m confused on why you’re you know.. calling me ‘your grace’.. i mean i understand the formalities and all but..”
zhongli and neuvillette raises their brow. “that is because, you are our creator, you created the elements, giving us visions, you carved the very world we live on, teyvat.” zhongli explains.
furrowing your brows, you tried to understand him, you really did but, you just couldn’t imagine yourself doing all of those great things zhongli explained to you.
“listen.. you probably have the wrong person and-“ “no,” everybody whips their towards dainsleif, giving him a scowl for him daring to cut their creator off.
“i can feel like, you are our creator, you.. this feeling you give me, to us, is other worldly, please.. your grace, believe me.”
dainsleif pleads, his eye(s?) staring deep into your soul, begging for you to understand. and to be honest you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes, it was tempting you and… you gave in.
gulping you closed your eyes and sighed. “i-.. fine, i may not believe that i was capable of doing all of those mountain moving stuff but i will.. you know.. just call me y/n.”
all of their eyes widen from surprise. kaveh breaks the mumurs of the men among him. “y-you would give us the honor to call you by your real name? i’m afraid we can no-“
“nuh uh, no need to call me ‘your grace’ anymore, it feels weird being called something so high..” you cut kaveh off and you could hear the collective, audible gasps from around you.
venti, heizou and kaveh (who were standing beside the mattress) basically launched themselves onto you, almost crying from happiness of the fact that you were allowing them to call you by your name.
“oh your grac- no, y/n!! it would be such an honor to call you by your name!” venti cries, hugging your body as heizou and kaveh clinged onto your arms, tears brimming their eyes.
you could only laugh nervously at the sudden affection and pat venti on the back, when you realized that this was a one in a life time experience where you actually meet these handsome (fictional but not anymore) men so you decide to hug venti back, patting his back.
“i-it’s all good venti but uh.. you’re squeezing me a bit too hard..” you managed to get out, tapping him on his arm. venti pulled back and smiled sheepishly. “oops..”
venti, heizou and kaveh got a good scolding from zhongli and dainsleif about jumping on the creator like that.
it was starting to get a bit hot and stuffy in your room so you decided to get up (with kaveh still clinging onto your arm) and walk over to the window and opening it up. feeling the cool breeze hit your face you sighed with satisfaction.
turning back around you saw all men staring right back at you. right.. you still had 23 men in your room. “uh.. so, are you guys thirsty?” you said nervously, offering them a small smile. it was your first time having a guy over at your room let alone 23!!
you don’t even know why you offered them water, you just wanted to ease the awkwardness.
they all nodded and you nod your head, making your way to the door and you could feel them staring holes into the back of your skull.
“i’ll go get some water, i don’t know if i have 23 glasses though..” and as you walked out of your room you could hear many footsteps following behind you, through the hallway and into the kitchen.
sighing, you crouched down to the cabinets and opened it, grabbing as many cups as you can. there was only 10. geez, who knew those “best child in the world” and “best co worker in the world!” would come in handy? you had 5 each, filling each of them up with cold water before passing it to thoma, xiao, neuvillette, wanderer, al-haitham, and a few others.
they were all fighting over who would get the last cup since you held that cup, it was special.
“‘kay, once you’re done drinking just wash and pour another cup for the others okay? here’s the tap and here’s the water jug.” you pointed to the water jug and once they gave you a nod of acknowledgment, you made your way back to the bedroom with zhongli following right behind you.
soon, everybody else came into your room, talking amongst one another. you plopped down on your bed and took a deep breath, taking in everything.
you were sleeping peacefully, woken up to 23 handsome men in your room, threw pillows at them, sat down and talked to them about their situation, offered them water and a place to sleep. yeah.. what a day.
“everything alright, your- y/n? i know it’s a lot to take in i… i want to apologize. is there anything i or we can do to make it up to you?”
turning your head, you faced zhongli and smiled softly. “no, it’s okay, if anything im worried for you guys.. i mean how do you feel? you’re not home anymore and i don’t know how long it’ll be until you guys go back home.”
the men hum and agreement and started to question when they will come back home. that was until neuvillette spoke up.
“but, y/n, we worship you and devote our entire selves for you.. i mean yes we would miss our positions but being with you is much more meaningful.
hm. interesting.. you thought to yourself. they seem very fond and loyal to you. it was cute. yawning, you blinked away your sleepy tears and hummed, making yourself more comfortable in your bed.
“blankets and pillows are in the closet right behind the mattress, make yourself at home..” you mumbled sleepily. “if.. if there’s no more space then you can sleep with me, i can only fit two or three people.”
honestly, who on earth would offer that? but you couldn’t pass this opportunity with these handsome men!! so why not?
everybody’s eyes widen at this offer. some of them scrambling to get onto your bed to sleep by your side, dainsleif, zhongli and neuvillette were pulling back heizou and venti back onto the mattress, knowing they would probably be up to no good next to you.
the ones who managed to get on your bed was childe and xiao, yes, xiao. he wasn’t trying to fight for a spot though (kind of was..) but he accidentally pulled away kaveh instinctively and landed him a spot beside you!!
childe sighed happily and snuggled up close to you, while xiao laid on the bed motionless, it kind of scared you.
“it feels so nice to be by your side y/n~” he mumbled, holding onto your arm, xiao scowled at him—staring daggers at childe. “don’t be so jealous, you’re beside them too you know..”
xiao narrows his eyes before staring up at the ceiling again. even though it was dark you noticed how he seemed to be blushing, was xiao always this cute?
the rest of the men had to sleep on three different mattresses, some even sleeping on the floor because they refused to sleep beside some people. most people ignored itto because he snored, really.. really loudly. he kept you up until 3 am.
you knew you were way too calm when reacting to this situation but then again, you have been a big fan of genshin impact for years now.. and you were crushing on all of them!! you would always wish on the very same bed you’re sharing with childe and xiao, that you could meet them, even if it was in your dreams.
so now that you could actually feel, look and talk to them.. you decided to take this opportunity and try to become as close with them as possible.
even if they have to leave in the end, you want to create many happy memories.
> ✧ part two
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note: THIS WAS SO RUSHED AND DOESNT MAKE SENSE I KNOW IM SORRY 😭😭 i promise next part will definitely be better 🙏🏻 as i said before this is not proof read so excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes 😢
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!
another note: I CAN ONLY ADD 30 TAGS? GOD
3K notes · View notes
fuxuannie · 3 months
Note
HAIII I love your work
I was wondering if you could do where reader shows off her new nails to kenji and there Ultraman theme.
I hope you have a great dayyy
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader
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love mail — (*´ノ∀`*) quick drabble before ending the day n i reply to inbox msgs,,, reader knows hes ultraman!
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︰꒱꒱ KENJI WAS CONFUSED WHEN YOU LEFT THE HOUSE WITHOUT HIM. now that's perfecrly normal, he's not some overly posessive jerk, it's just you usually ask him to come with you when you get your nails done. "it's a surprise!" your text reads, which is weirdly suspicious. your surprises varied, whether it be a romantic date or you came home with a kitten you saw on the side of the road. at least he knew it was just gonna be nails, but why on earth would you want them to be a surprise?
when you come home, kenji's on the couch and waiting for you. he's got a curious smirk, gesturing you to come over. and with your hands behind your back and a smile that fails to not be obvious, that's exactly what you do.
"so?" he'll start, tilting his head. "what's the surprise?"
you proudly show your newly painted nails, and his eyes seem to widen. "seriously?" he'll chuckle, taking your hands into his to get a better look. you began to laugh; finding his reaction cute. "seriously." you replied back. he pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "it's perfect. they look lovely on you." he honestly just loved how supportive you were in any way you could. it was just adorable.
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lets-get-kraken-boys · 2 months
Text
Yandere Class 1-A X Reader — { PART 2 }: We’ve Got Company~
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(Description: Titles are hard, okay? Please don’t shame me for how cheesy it is because I know it's corny LOL. But I make up for it with decent writing! I POPPED OFF with some of these parts.
We all know this by now, but it’s safe to say (Y/N) is too trusting of EVERYONE. The amount of people I keep making them blindly and wholly give their faith to is…concerning. I know you guys probably want them to fight back more, but it’s hard when I haven’t labeled them with a specified Quirk. I wanted to leave it up to you guys to give them the attributes they have in your minds without spoon-feeding you every single choice (Y/N) makes. Sooooo, it suffers a little bit with the repetitiveness of this constant back and forth getting pulled every which way. It’s also difficult when there are so many characters to cover.
I am not complaining about it though! I am extremely proud of this story and am very happy with the outcome. I just hope you guys love it as much as I do. Plusss, it’s kinda nice to imagine being a princess stolen away at every opportunity by handsome/gorgeous suitors teehee!)
Fanfiction Lingo
(Y/N) - Your Name
(L/N) - Last Name
(N/N) - Nickname
~
“Normal speech.”
‘Inner thoughts.’
~
Original Concept - [Mommabean’s OG Story] → Here
Part I - [My first addition] → Here
Part II → You’re here!
~
Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)
Style of Story: Sequel Oneshot // This story is a continuation of Momma’s Yandere Class 1-A Purge short story. I have written a previous part to this, so please check it out to understand what is happening!; Yandere Purge! If you don’t know what that is, go take a look at @yanderemommabean’s original works of it on her page, all is explained there; Many of MHA’s adults are included here, but I don’t want to spoil who exactly is in the story, so that is all you get so far~!
Word Count: 24K
WARNING(s): Swearing; physical fighting and threats (threats aren’t made at (Y/N), nor are they hurt beyond bruising); there is a brief mention of rape and sexual assault—it is not gone into heavily or in detail, but you need to know it is there; mental and emotional manipulation to the reader; bending of MHA’s storyline and the events currently happening (mainly regarding the setting, timeline, and people’s aliveness LMAO) to fit (Y/N) into the story but bear with me; some unrealistic interactions are going to happen in this fic because to get everyone together in a setting like this is near impossible; All of Class 1-A’s students are aged up to third years & everyone is 18 or older // I AM WRITING THEM AS IF THEY ARE IN CLASS 3-A NOW FYI!
[PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse my writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference between reading/writing yandere stories V.S real-life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like a character(s) in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware, stay safe.]
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~
Unable to leave without one final gloat, Shinsou turns back to smirk at the students, “All of you were wrong earlier, by the way. It’s me, dumbasses.”
Suddenly, a cocky voice chuckles from behind the mind-controlling boy, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, kid~...”
As reluctant as Shinsou is to say this, a tiny shiver runs down his back. Coming from the busted-up entrance of the gymnasium, Aizawa’s voice rings out like a bell. Your current threat swivels around to face the intruder. Even though his recognizable voice is a dead giveaway, seeing him actually standing there in the rubble draws a sigh of relief out of you. You don’t know whether to cry, smile, or scream for his help; either way, it’s just a nice change of pace to see his usual disheveled appearance and relaxed stature. At least something has remained consistent on this hellish evening.
Though, something sensible clicks in your mind. Thinking back on all the strong-willed friends you lost in the fight against this disease, you realize there’s a strong chance that even your own teacher has fallen victim to its siren call. As much as you’d like to go running into his comforting embrace and wail about how horribly your classmates have been treating you the past few hours, you bite your tongue and stay complacent in Hitoshi’s arms. Not like you could voice many of your concerns with the makeshift gag still sat across your mouth.
“Damn,” Shinsou mutters to himself before perking up to meet his instructor's eye with a devious glint in his eye, “Mr. Aizawa. Good to see—,” Before the boy could finish his greeting, the stoic hero held up his hand, his palm facing Shinsou.
“Save the pleasantries. You’d think after all these years of one-on-one training you’d realize I can read you like an open book. Your expressions continue to give your intentions away too easily. So cut the crap.” Shinsou's false smile drops quicker than it appeared. Aizawa leisurely waltzes into the room, closing in on the both of you.
Aizawa continues his analysis with a sigh, “And I wouldn’t try that little gimmick with me. I’m not like my students over there,” he vaguely points behind the two of you to the group.
“I’m your mentor. All the tricks you have up your sleeve are hardly even interesting choices to me anymore. I should know, I taught them all to you, after all.” He chuckled to himself.
“Did you come here just to nag my ear off about how you’re so much better than me, or because you have something actually important to say? ‘Cause, if it's the former, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got some pretty precious cargo in my hands at the moment.” Shinsou brags, hoisting you further up into his arms, forcing a garbled complaint from you.
“Watch your tone, brat.” Aizawa glares at the snarky comeback his student possessed. Hm. So, Hitoshi thinks he’s hot shit because he won against a handful of decently strong opponents? Well, that’s just fine. He’s used to putting cocky bastards in their place.
“I’ve come to offer you a deal of sorts. We can either speak about it rationally, or,” he shines a leering grin, “I can use my quirk on you, and you can say goodbye to the hold you have over your classmates right now. How do you think you’d fare against 19 pissed-off pro heroes?” This time, you can actually feel Shinsou shutter at the sinister tone your teacher leans into. His reaction makes sense. The idea of irrational, infected, superhuman, edgy teens hunting you down fighting isn’t a pleasant one. Not just one of them either, a whole damn fleet of them. You’d be shaking in your boots too.
“Since I’m nice, I’ll let you decide,” Aizawa has a bored look on his face again as he runs a hand through the inky mop of hair atop his head. A few seconds lurch by before Shinsou caves.
“Fine, old-timer. I’ll hear you out.” Shinsou reluctantly agrees. He knows he could take on a few of them at once in combat, but as soon as the heavy hitters join the fight—it’ll be over. He’d much rather join forces with his instructor than be betrayed by the greedy moochers residing in his class. Shinsou knows that if some of them had the chance, they’d steal you with no hesitation or regret. He’ll just have to sit and see what the idea Aizawa wants to propose is.
The two of them walk towards each other. A meeting held face-to-face in the middle of the gymnasium.
“I should honestly reprimand you guys for how shittily you’ve treated (L/N) this evening. It’s absurd how ragged you’ve been running them. Absolutely unacceptable. Maybe I should even expel the lot of you after the Purge ends.” Wait, Aizawa could see you too? What, is your peril being broadcasted on live television for the world to see or something?!
“Hey, don’t lump me with those barbarians,” Shinsou pulled back in a look of grievance, “I waited until everything was calm to strike. They were the ones who made (Y/N) run around like a headless chicken.” He tossed his head back to the hypnotized horde.
“Hm. We’ll discuss it as a class later.” Aizawa coughs into his fist.
“Fine. Now, what’s this deal you’ve thought up?” Shinsou prompts the conversation.
“Right. It’s about—,” Aizawa is interrupted by his cautious student.
“(Y/N). Am I right?” Shinsou jumps to the conclusion rather abruptly.
Aizawa glares, “Don’t interrupt someone while they’re talking, Shinsou. It’s rude.”
“But you did that to me not ev—,”
“Do as I say, not as I do,” Aizawa purposefully cuts him off, “And yes. It’s about them.”
“Hmph,” Shinsou narrows his eyes at the mention of you, “what do you want with them?”
“Not quite the right question. Change that to more like what can we do for them,” Aizawa twists the words to better fit his narrative.
Intrigued, Hitoshi takes the bait, “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is I don’t want to outright take them from you,” he shifts his weight to the other foot, “I want to make a deal to share them with you.”
Shouta continues, “Aoyama and his group had a good idea teaming up with Izuku’s crew. Working together, especially when the stronger piers can aid the weaker links, is a much more productive way of going about things. There’s safety in numbers.” Your body freezes up at his words. You connect the dots that he heard, or possibly even saw that whole ordeal. How? Where was he viewing from? Did he watch on a security camera? It’s a likely theory, the school is littered with them. You thought Denki killed the power earlier with his quirk. Or, with a more chilling idea, was he actually there? Physically in the vicinity? How was he nearby, could hear and see the whole event, and you didn’t notice him? Why didn’t he help you? Or, at least, intervene? Your mind is muddled with questions, but the two press on with their conversation.
“Sharing, huh? Thought you liked working alone.” Shinsou prodded, skeptical of the plan.
“Some missions call for an extra set of hands.” Aizawa cooly replied.
“I’m not sure. Not too big on the idea of letting go of them.” Shinsou pulled your bundled-up form closer to his chest. It’s like he’s a little kid—red in the face because of frustration, fighting to keep his stuffie all to himself as an adult asks him to share it with the other kids.
“I’m not asking you to fully let go of them, kid. Just enough so I can take care of them too. They’re a bit of a handful, as I’m sure you’ve no doubt figured out by now,” you whip your head to scowl at him and heatedly shout muffled curses at him, “Heh. My bad, kitten, but it’s true. The trouble your presence kicks up is a lot to handle, even for a pro.” You feel your face heat up in embarrassment at his words. Not that it wasn’t obvious before, but it’s safe to say he is infected as well.
“Plus, what will you do when you can’t control the rest of the students? You and I both know that your quirk doesn’t last forever, and your control is slowly dwindling away, even as we speak. I could help you fend them off, if it comes to it.” Shouta observed. He has a natural way of being extremely persuasive, doesn’t he?
Shinsou isn’t exactly thrilled to give you up, he’d much rather stake his claim on you by himself. His company should be more than enough to fill your time! He doesn’t want time with you to be shared with others he doesn’t approve of. Though…Aizawa isn’t exactly untrustworthy. Hitoshi definitely trusts him more than someone as hazardous as Bakugo, or as miserable to be around as Monoma. He’s a great teacher, even though he’s kind of a hardass. Someone he looks up to. Maybe they could give it a shot? After all, if it doesn’t work out, there’s still plenty of Purge time left for him to find somewhere else to hide and drag you off to when Aizawa isn’t looking.
“Okay. We’ll give your idea a go.” Shinsou begrudgingly complied.
“Good choice, kid.” Aizawa’s lips twitch upward into a minuscule grin. Yet again, your own fate is taken away from you as the two of them close in, grasp hands, and shake to signify the agreement.
“Ooohhh~! What a touching truce, cuties~,” a sugary-sweet voice curls around the boys’ conversation like a hazy morning fog.
“Huh—!” Shinsou isn’t fast enough to react to the intruder as he feels all his senses numb. A dreadfully sweet smell, the same kind of sugary tang that was laced throughout the woman’s voice, invades his nose. It should be disgusting, it should make him sick to his stomach, but the candied scent is nothing short of divine. It’s like nothing he's ever smelled before. It honestly makes him want to inhale more. Which is an action he subconsciously commits, sealing his fate. Shinsou’s legs grow wobbly as he starts to lose feeling all over his body. As unpleasant as he wants it to feel, as he begs it to feel, all he can recognize is a cozy warmth clouding his better judgment. Through the mental and physical struggle, he remembers you’re still sitting prettily in his swiftly weakening arms. He panics, afraid he’s going to, or that he has already dropped you. He glances down.
Well…you used to be there. You’re not anymore.
Shinsou groans, crashing to his knees. He scans the surrounding floor, looking for any trace of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Good news is he didn’t drop you like an idiot. Bad news is someone else has their disgusting hands all over you. That thought makes him want to pick off his own flesh cell by cell, but there’s nothing he can do except lay on the ground and reluctantly drift in and out of consciousness.
“Too bad you’re not as lovely as our sweetheart here. Otherwise, you’d be my plaything too~,” the woman giggles, “But, oh well. Pleasant dream, honey~,” she coos at the purple-haired boy. You’re beyond floored at how quickly Shinsou was subdued, considering the quick work he made of the other students. Curious as ever, you shot your head back and forth to identify who stole the show this time.
The owner of the saccharine voice turned out to be none other than Midnight, your art history and overly-sexual pro hero mentor. She giggles to herself, watching her prey twitch and squirm in retaliation against her quirk on the floor, “While struggling normally is my favorite part of the foreplay, I wouldn’t advise it this time, dear~. Somnambulist isn’t easy to win against. It’s a much more potent sleep agent than your little quirk could ever dream of being.”
“Love that energy, Midnight! Smooth work,” a boisterous voice slices through your eardrums. You cringe at the volume, recognizing that borderline shriek. The person who is now capturing your body is Present Mic! What the hell are all three of your teachers doing here?! Shouldn’t they be like normal people and hide from the Purge?
As if reading your mind, Aizawa coughs to grab his coworkers’ attention, “That was completely unnecessary of you two. A little excessive too. I told you both I could handle the situation on my own. What’re you doing here?”
“Jeez! So cold!” Mic’s voice danced up and down in pitch, “Don’t be so frosty with us, Eraser! We just wanted to help!”
“Yes,” Midnight purred, the click click of her skyscraper-length stilettos stabbing the shellacked ground echoed across the rubble-covered floor, “you think us so shallow! You act as if we thought you couldn’t take care of this, dear. All we believed was it’s nice to have some support on the field, yes~?”
Aizawa, always as sharp as a knife, caught onto their plan effortlessly, “You two just couldn’t wait to get your grubby hands on them, could you?” The two opposing teachers choked on the air in their lungs as he saw through their lies. They fumbled the next few words that streamed out of their mouths, trying desperately through the stutters to justify their cause and deter his wit.
“I see. Hmm…whatever. Either way, you two never fail to overdo it,” Aizawa grumbles to himself, his chin sinking further into the comfort of his scarf, “I guess I’ll need some assistance dealing with the rest of my students over there. They won’t remain hypnotized for much longer now that Shinsou’s down—I’d rather not have to start a physical fight when there’s no need.”
“Oooh~,” Midnight purred, slinking over to the slowly reawakening crowd, “leave this to me, loves~!” The woman proceeded to unleash another plum of her drunkening quirk right as the class snapped out of their haze. You watched as they fell one by one to the floor in sudden exhaustion. Even the strong-willed one couldn’t escape the fate of her noxious gas, dropping limply to the floor in a dreamless slumber.
“Aww, they’re so sweet when they’re not getting in our way.” Mic snickered.
“Mic. Watch it,” Aizawa’s laid-back indifference swiftly shifted into his scary steely gaze as he warned his rambunctious coworker to stop his prattling.
“Whaaaat~??? You gotta admit, your hooligans sure made our night a lot harder!” Hizashi pouted in frustration.
‘When am I gonna catch a break from these…these…wait. What…the…,’ your thoughts slowly lose their path in your head, your mind-numbing and slipping away from coherent ideas. Your limbs feel like the thickest cement in the world when you try to move them. It’s too tough, too much work—and sleeping sounds like a fantastic idea. You’re just so tired. You start to heave for oxygen as if your lungs can never get enough air inside of them. You’re trying so hard to stay awake because you know in the back of your brain as delicious as stopping your fighting to rest sounds, something doesn’t feel right. You can’t remember why. Eventually, it becomes too difficult to keep your head up on your own, so you rest it against Mic’s open shoulder.
Hizashi immediately stops bickering against the stoic man in front of him as he feels your head plop onto his shoulder. Now that his attention is drawn back to you, he realizes you weren’t squirming around as much as he’d expected you to. He knows even past the lingering virus flooding his veins you wouldn’t give in to their advances so easily—as nice as that would have been—so he devotes all his attention to your slumped frame.
“Hey, you alright, doll?” he cranes his head down to catch your unfocused eyes. He jostles the shoulder you were resting on a bit, trying to reel you back from wherever your mind had floated off to, and that seemed to help a little. You tried to talk, but the gag prevented any words from coming out. Catching the barrier, he beckoned his partner in crime over with a quick tilt of his head and a quiet, “Help me get this thing off their mouth, Shouta.”
Without hesitation, your concerned homeroom teacher stepped over and peeled off the tape as gently as he could. Your mouth now freed, you let out an unconscious whine of relief, showing a small bit of happiness at having some bit of freedom back.
“What did you say, sweets?” Mic pressed yet again.
“Mmhn…I…uhm…mmm…nnh,” you mindlessly babbled in a soft voice.
“Come on, (Y/N). How do you feel right now?” Aizawa coaxed, his worry over you hiking higher at your unresponsiveness.
“Hmmm…just…tired…I think…mnnn,” Your eyes couldn’t stay open. They opted to flutter close every time no matter how much Mic shimmed around in an attempt to keep you conscious.
“Tired. Hizashi—Midnight’s quirk.” Aizawa said as he caught Hizashi’s fear-filled gaze. Both of their anxiety floated back down at the deduction. You must’ve breathed in too much of the secondhand smoke of the pro hero’s quirk. After all, it is quite potent against those who haven’t experienced it much before. Mic’s jostling changed into more of a rocking motion, trying to lull you further into that blissful rest.
“Ohhhh. Honeycakes! That’s okay—it’s perfectly fine if you need some rest. It’s been a tough day for our snuggle bunny,” he uttered, affectionately nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.
“I heard you say my name, Eraser. What’s…oh!” Midnight stopped her sentence when her eyes fell on you. Then, all she could do was squeal at the sight of your sleepy state. She shoved Aizawa out of the way, bent down to your level, and squeezed herself as close to you as she could. She was giggling and chirping in delight at how “adorable” and “absolutely, irresistibly, undeniably cute” you were.
“Awwwwhn~~~!!!” her voice curled up in pitch, her fingers smoothing your loose hairs behind your ear and stroking down your warm cheek, “You are just the sweetest lil’ thing~!! Mommy’s precious angel~. What’s happened, Zashi?” Midnight tilted her gaze up to the blond for an explanation.
He grinned, “Just breathed too much of your quirk in, s’all.”
Midnight loftily snickered, “I see. Glad we were here to take care of them!” In all honesty, she’s beyond pleased that out of any one of her coworkers, her quirk affected you the most. In a way, she saw that as she had the most influence on you—or, in other words, the most power over you. In her eyes, she saw it as you giving yourself to her. Willingly and unafraid. Midnight’s heart is cartwheeling and running laps because she sees this as you caring about her so much that you’d serve her in such a magnificent way. She could eat you up and still be searching for seconds. You’re just perfect for her in every way, shape, and form. Aizawa’s nagging drags her out of her less than innocent desires over you filling her head.
“You need to be more careful about how much of your quirk you release in the future, Midnight.” Aizawa scolds, but scorn is practically nonexistent in his voice. It’s hard to be angry at the effects you’ve been put under when the outcome makes you look so helplessly cute. He’d never admit it, but he’s envious of her quirk, when it can turn you so easily into this version of yourself. The dilated, doe-eyed look your eyes hold as they drift up to see him makes the words die a little in his throat. Perhaps the lecture he was going to give her can wait a little.
“Ahh, I will, Eraserhead. But first, we should head off for that safe spot we arranged with the others.” Midnight commented towards the men while still keening over your dopey state.
“W…Wait,” you grumbled out in a meek voice, “noo…no. I d-don’t…,” your words fell off into babbling mumbles again. It was torture to try and evade her quirk’s effects like this, but you were steadfast in wanting to fight. To flee their unwanted embrace and be alone. But all they did was coo at your brave efforts. Oh, they knew just the perfect things to say to make you feel like you were a mere baby to them. How inadvertently insulting.
“Ssh shh shh~. Awh, I know, honey~. You just feel so tired~,” Midnight sang in a baby-talk tone of voice, brushing the top of your head with the palm of her hand. It was weird, you couldn’t figure out if she saw you as her child or prey. Maybe both. That scares you. Maybe you don’t want to find out any more.
“Don’t worry, sweetie! We’ve got you,” though less scary than the woman currently pinning you, Mic’s mischievous lilt of tone didn’t skate by your observative nature. His eyes seem…darker than when you’d looked at them during one of his happy-go-lucky lectures. Like he was hiding the truth of his words behind a cobweb-like veil of deceit. In fact, Mic was resembling a conniving spider—which made you the ditzy butterfly falling for his web of a trap.
Lethargic and thoroughly worn out from both her quirk and all the running you’ve done, you finally give up. Your body feels warm and tingly, making sleep all the easier to give in to. As darkness flooded your vision and your consciousness finally dove away, Aizawa’s voice filled your ears, “See you soon, (Y/N).”
~ Timeskip ~
Sick. That’s all you felt as the darkness that consumed your thoughts and vision slowly faded. Sick to your stomach. Aching all over. You felt like you were a flimsy shirt thrown into a clothes dryer and left to spin over and over again for three cycles too long.
You tilted your head a bit and promptly groaned at the wave of nausea that swamped your brain. Such a subtle movement caused your whole world to crash sideways into an abysmal painscape. It was like you were zipping around on the shittiest, most rickety roller coaster you’d ever rode. You wanted nothing more than to get off.
All this to say—ow. What the fuck, brain? Why do you hurt me so? That’s all your mind could conjure up at the moment—insults to your own organs—because it hurts too much to think rationally. That was one hell of a shitty rest. It has to be one of the top five worst naps you’ve ever taken. You’ll have to whine about it to Denki after class today, maybe you’ll get some sympathy candy for your brave efforts. Denki…why does it feel like something important happened that he was a part of? Hmm…you can’t put your finger on it right now. Everything’s too drowsy at the moment for logic to be considered. Your eyes are still begrudgingly shut as you twist your torso around, trying to get comfortable again.
That’s the moment you started to become more aware of the outside world around you. Noises of chatter hung in the air like a nagging mosquito. The more you paid attention to the continuous sounds, the more irritating they became. Who was talking so damn much, and why were they making it your problem? Couldn’t they see you were a sick person in need of some goddamn peace and quiet? But, that’s just Class 3-A life, you suppose. None of them ever know when to shut the fuck up. Well, this time, they’d learn! They’d get a piece of your “hungover” mind.
“Oi…,” you grunted out, a snarl vehemently leaking into your tone, “Can’t you guys pipe down?! I’m sorta in the middle of trying to sleep off a nasty headache.”
Maybe your words stung the culprits a bit too much as you heard the room slow to a deathlike silence. No blistering insults were flung back at you from the resident hellhound of Class 3-A Bakugou, no chortles from the jokesters of the bunch, no profuse apologies from the worrywarts—nothing. Just…silence. I mean, you guess that’s the result you wanted; but the tense atmosphere you created is rapidly making you regret your flippant decision.
The encroaching fear made your mind real back to the very moment you woke up. You began rational plotting out the questions that swarmed your mind like hornets to their nest. Wait, where were you again? What time is it? Why do you feel so ill? Why can’t your brain remember what the date is? Something really important was happening before you passed out related to time…passed out. Hold on—that’s right, you passed out!
What the fuck.
You passed out due to what—no…due to who?
Unease finally getting the better of you, you peeped up again, but presenting a much meeker tone this time, “U-Um…guys? Look, I’m…God, I’m sorry for lashing out. I just—my head hurts like hell, I’m sore all over my everywhere, and I don’t know what’s—haannhh…ow, ow, ouch.” As you spewed out the poorly constructed apology, you steadily sat up from whatever hard surface you’d been resting on. The stiff rest stop made you all that more unnerved; it sort of felt like you were on a metal autopsy table. Cold and jarring. As if you were a poor little frog being dissected for all the insatiably curious students to see. It made you want to be swallowed whole by the floor just to escape the distress of the situation. God damnit, why is it still so hard to open your eyes?! They felt like the heaviest slab of lead welded over your eyelids. You forced them open.
Overlooking the blurriness of your vision, you could immediately tell by the general shape of the people standing in front of you that you weren’t in the presence of your beloved classmates like you thought you were.
There were multiple people in the darkened room, all with varying heights and sizes. There weren’t twenty people like how many there are in your class; their numbers were closer to ten or so. Plus, the colors of their outfits didn’t match with your friends’ hero suits you’d come to be extremely familiar with. However, you did recognize the colors and remembered who they belonged to. The answer chilled you to the bone.
You didn’t speak up again in the presence of most, if not all of, your mentors. Yes, your mentors. The adults you interacted with practically every day; who taught you every tactic you knew, who helped you to become a capable hero in the pro world. In fact, you didn’t just not talk, you slumped into yourself a bit. You were afraid. Scratch that—you were beyond afraid. You’d seen, and fought, firsthand against their wrath before. You’ve watched their fights broadcasted on the television, through shaky personally caught videos on the Internet posted by petrified civilians. You’ve worked alongside a few of them through missions and treacherous situations. Hell, you actually battle against one for the right to earn your hero license! That was a tough day, but you’d made it by the skin of your teeth—more than likely only winning because of the unimaginably heavy weights that shackled them as handicaps. In short, they were barbaric beasts on the field. Now…you’re face-to-face with their rage.
Let’s all send a brief prayer for yourself. Maybe your death will be swift and your afterlife pleasant if you beg hard enough.
“My, my, my~,” a sultry voice sang in your right ear, making you shriek at the intrusion of your personal bubble, “such a naughty-mouthed little pet~! Tell me, what brute taught you to speak to your superiors in such a disrespectful way?” It was Midnight again. She was always one to breach your boundaries, whether you wanted her to or not.
She cupped your jaw with one of her hands, pinching and squeezing your gooey cheeks with the other for her pleasure, “Ooooh, precious! How’s your whittle head~?” she cooed while smushing. She wiped away a small bit of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth, making you feel that much more like a ditzy baby. The way she played with you really did remind you of a child messing around with a delicious treat of springy mochi. Perhaps that was what you were to the ravenous woman, a delicacy to be devoured whole. You shivered in fear again.
Another person from across the room let out a high-pitched whistle, one that indicated astonishment or feeling impressed, “Wow! Brat’s got some spunk to ‘em! Good to know they haven’t switched up since we last spoke.” You weren’t as familiar with that voice as you were with your homeroom teachers, but it did strike a chord in your memory. Their youthful cheer didn’t resemble the dread-filled boredom Aizawa’s held, but they didn’t sound crude enough to be another student. Your vision clearing further was the only thing that gave their mystery identity away. It was Power Loader! It feels like forever since the two of you even acknowledged one another. Either way, he’s here now and fully decked out in his hero gear. The heavy equipment gave you a unique foreboding feeling that his abilities weren’t just all that meets the eye.
“Midnight, step aside, please.” A mellow voice takes control of the conversation. Midnight looks over her shoulder in disdain, as if the very notion of her being politely asked to leave your side is the most disrespectful thing someone could have asked her to do, but it seems that whoever popped the question meant real business. She stepped aside with a huff of frustration, mumbling under her breath curses, and something along the lines of ‘the gall’.
Once she moved, the requester hopped onto the table where you sat. They pushed into your personal space as well. You opted to lean back as much as the encroacher would allow you. From the astronaut-resembling helmet that donned their head and the puffy jacket they wore, you came to the obvious conclusion that this was 13, another member of the faculty here at UA.
She moved your head—left to right, up and down, and in a full circle. She checked all around the front of your body, and basically anywhere that you allowed her to get close to. 13 looked back deeply into your eyes before twisting back to face the bunch, “They don’t appear to be physically hurt on the outside. No scrapes, cuts, sprains, or anything broken. All that I could really deduct was their dilated pupils, meaning the effects of Somnambulist are still present,” 13 whirled forward to you, “Feeling at all hazy, woozy, or tired, (Y/N)?”
You simply stared back at the expressionless black mask 13 wore. You didn’t know what to say—half because you were uncomfortable at how close she was, and half because you were still bracing yourself to get your ass beat by the less merciful of the teachers. Your mind is drawing to blanks as you’re frozen with your jaw left hanging open.
“(Y/N)?” 13 snaps her fingers in front of your face, semi-dragging you out of your tizzy, “Hello? How are you feeling, dear?”
Ignoring the uncalled-for nickname, you wobbled your head about to snap out of whatever stupor you were stuck in, “Aaaah…um…good. I think. Still…vision’s still a bit blurry, head’s kinda fuzzy, but it’s okay. I can’t really feel my legs yet, I guess.” You tried kicking your feet back and forth, and while you could see them sway, you didn’t feel the sensation of your tendons pulling the limbs.
“Alright, that’s okay.” 13 dismounts the desk to face the crowd, “They’ll be fine. Just give their system time to recover from the grogginess. Next time, Midnight, go easier with how much of your toxins you release! They could’ve gotten severely hurt if they inhaled too much.” 13 scolds the tall woman.
Midnight scoffs, “Ugh! Why, I would never intentionally hurt my love bug like that! I swear, you act like I haven’t been controlling my quirk for my whole life!”
“Midnight, we have to set an example for our students, and lying isn’t how we do that. You should acknowledge you do go overboard sometimes,” craggy words tumbled through Midnight’s attempt to save her ass. Off to her side is the stony fortress of a hero, Cementoss, the one who spoke against her. While he is a man (or is he a rock? You’re not too sure even after all these years being a student under him) of few words, he does have the occasional snarky comeback in his vocabulary when he isn’t prattling off haikus and other unheard of analogies for life’s troubles you haven’t heard before. You’re pretty sure that half of what he says is made up on the spot, and you’ve occasionally tested how far you could push his knowledge before by asking him tough questions like “What is the meaning of life?” or “How did the universe come into being?”.
Before Midnight could pulverize the stone man into pebbles, the final guest you could see hanging in the back of the room piped up, “Can we please stop fumbling around like nimrods and get back to the matter at hand?” Inky, sludgy, and methodical in his dialect, it was no shock that its owner was the shadowy hero known to you as Ectoplasm. You’d interacted with him even less than the others, but you weren’t oblivious to his strength. You’d seen the fight between Tsu and Tokoyami against this predator, and you are happy to admit that he wasn’t your enemy on the field that day.
After briefly scanning the room once more, it seemed that everyone who was there had spoken up. Well, except for Aizawa and Present Mic, they seemed to be having a private conversation with themselves. Glances they threw in your direction, no matter how embarrassingly obvious Mic was being or the tenuousness of Aizawa’s, made it hard to ignore their scalding stares. It was borderline disturbing to see Mic so stationary. You wished he’d stop freaking you out and start yelling in your face like he always does. At least that would be one thing that hadn’t changed with the Purge.
“Precisely. Where were we? Please remind us, Ectoplasm.” Cementoss, equally over the distractions going on, encouraged the conversation forward.
“We were talking about our options. What to do for the rest of the Purge. How to proceed with the plan.” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing that could have been explained. Plan? What plan was he talking about?
“‘Listen, we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round with these ideas for over an hour now,” HUH?!?! EXCUSE YOU, BUT WHAT DID HE SAY?! There was no time to stop their conversation to ask if Power Loader was or wasn’t exaggerating the time that had passed as he pushed on, “Why can’t we just go? I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this room.”
“What, and storm out here with no strategy? Yeah, that’s the best idea we’ve heard tonight.” Aizawa finally tossed his opinion into the ring and—surprise, surprise—it’s another gripe.
“We do have a plan—and a solid one at that! I just said it’s all we’ve been discussing ever since we stepped foot into this bloody room!” Power accused.
“No,” 13 cut in, “the plan you’re talking about is the one we’ve fine-tuned to get out of the school. What Eraser’s referring to is what we’re going to do once we leave the school grounds.” She stepped over to you while giving her speech and wipes your face down with a damp, cool towel. You’re not sure where she dispensed it from, but you supposed that since she specializes in search and rescue missions, she’s bound to have supplies of the like to help in stressful situations built into her hero suit.
“Easy! We run and gun our way out until we find a safe spot! A simply perfect plan. Okay? Let’s go.” Power said with finality.
“For being a seasoned pro, you’re much too antsy. You’re rushing this operation. If you keep sprinting through the important discussions, there will be major consequences.” Cementoss threatened. Power scoffed at the man’s slightly pretentious behavior.
“Think about it,” 13 tried to reason, “There are hundreds of pro heroes out there. Half infected, half not—give or take a handful. For however many pros around out there, there are at least six times as many civilians out there who are either running for their freedom or others who are trying to take that from their darlings. It is too risky to bring them out into a world like that.” Them? Hold on, do they mean you?! No way in hell are you being taken out into the shit storm that the big city has become! You’ve seen how the Purge demolishes the city in years prior. You saw what the news predicted it would be like tonight. Chaos. Pure chaos filled with dangerous, virus-infected people and villains simply trashing the place because they are able. You came into the school to seek shelter in one of the safe rooms to avoid the city, and they want to bring you into it? They can’t do this to you! Have they completely lost it?
Well, you knew that much, but still!
“He’s right, though,” Present Mic finally spoke up from his unusual voicelessness, “We can’t stay here all night waiting for some miracle to spring up. We’ve gotta take some action.” His shoulders buckled inward to show his agitation.
“And no one is saying that we will stay, Mic.” Cement’s sensible attitude never fails to shine through the stress of a tough discussion.
“But you are saying that. You know it…because you’re afraid. We all are afraid.” Mic grabbed everyone's attention because of how softly his words came out.
“I mean, we all know who exactly is out there,” Mic somberly stood and walked over to your side. You wanted to shimmy away from how close he got, but you chose to sit still to hear what else he had to say, “It’s not an if or maybe situation—he is looking for them. Maybe staying in the school has some perks. At least here he can’t get to them without breaking down a few thick walls.” At Mic’s dreadful outlook, everyone’s prepared responses fell into stifling silence. Who is he talking about? Why do you feel a shiver scaling up your spine at the faceless adversary? All this anticipation is going to make you go insane for real this time.
“It’s true. But UA isn’t safe either. We’re not alone and we aren’t the only ones in this building who’re interested in them. Those confounding kids of yours are still around, Aizawa.” Ectoplasm countered. Finally finding the place in the conversation where you can speak, you took your chance.
“Are you talking about the rest of my class?” you breathed out. The teachers spun their heads to give you their full attention. It creeped you out—their devotion to hearing you speak as if it was gospel—but you guess this virus is handy when you need to grab the attention of a bustling room.
“Glad you can still find your voice, sweets.” Mic praised you with a gentle pat on the top of your head. A total switch up from his gloomy personality just prior.
“And, yes, we are.” Ectoplasm sighed, sending one of his clones to your side. The clone didn’t do much except lay their hand on your head and brush your hair back, “They've proven to be quite…driven in their resolve to keep you by their sides.”
“Meaning they’re being a real pain in our—,” Mic’s interrupted by Aizawa’s scarf strangling the bottom half of his face to cease the loud man’s babbling.
“Hmmn, you guys take everything so personally,” Midnight bemoaned, propping her spike-heeled shoes against the side of one of the many desks around, “the children are just playing together, ‘is all! In fact, they’re making this night much more fun for me hehe~.” You cringed, and the only word running through your mind was ‘creepy.’
“Yes. Be kind, Mic. They haven’t been a bother for some time now.” Cementoss spoke with a grateful tone of voice.
“Well, it’s no wonder they haven’t been.” Power Loader huffed while resting his body back onto a nearby table.
“What do you mean?” you asked. You shifted up further to give the conversation your full attention. Once you were up, a slight tightness on your wrists captured your distracted brain. You glanced down and saw binding on your wrists. They were bound with tape. Tape…oh! That’s right! You were taped up by Sero before this shit show happened! You scanned your body up and down and didn’t see any of his tape around anything but your hands. It’s gone from your mouth too since you can speak to the teachers. You guess you’re thankful that they at least gave you the freedom to wiggle your legs around. Nonetheless, you’re still unforgivable-level mad at them for being dicks and holding you hostage.
“He means that ever since Shinsou caught them under his hypnosis, and Midnight leaked her Somnambulist to put them under, they’ve been sound asleep in the gymnasium.” Ectoplasm’s words curl up like a snake wrapping around its helpless prey. You feel less comforted by Ecto’s clone lovingly stroking your head now. That means no one else has been looking for you ever since Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight took you. Goody gumdrops.
“Yea’,” a new, twangy voice plucks into the conversation, “and it seems they ain’t rearin’ up again for some time.” It echoed from the entrance of the room a few feet ahead of your spot by the windows, so you craned your neck to the side to see past the teachers blocking the way.
His foreign accent was a big hint, but if there was any confusion as to who exactly was speaking, his masked appearance confirmed his identity. Snipe was perched against the door frame, slacked back against the wooden frame, and bending his knee to rest one of his spurred cowboy boots on the frame as well. Since when did he get there? You don’t recall seeing him when you scanned the room earlier. What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the doorframe rested Vlad King, Class 3-B’s homeroom teacher. You watched him side-eye his coworkers and, opposite to the rest, he stayed silent. Quiet, analytical. You haven’t interacted with him as much as you have with the others since he’s not one of your main teachers, but you’re certain from the way he and Aizawa have this sort of one-sided rivalry going on between them that he’s not one to be taken lightly.
“Hey, hey, hey,” barked Present Mic, “what are you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be guarding the door!”
“We decided to come in when we heard you lot yappin’. Wanted to see if our blossom was alright.” Okay, these corny nicknames were getting to be a little much—and it was becoming hard to not laugh at them when Snipe’s Western country-ass voice tried to say it so seriously.
“Yeah, right. You just wanted to see them.” Power Loader grumbled on his lonesome. Jealous much?
“Great, the peanut gallery’s all here.” you chuckled to yourself. Honestly, it was a smartass remark that was only meant for your ears to hear, but you should’ve known better than to mutter in the presence of such high-profile, analytical, pro heroes.
“Watch your tone, (L/N). I’ve taught you better than to speak to your superiors like that.” Aizawa’s steely gaze came to life, an intimidating red glow directly pointed your way. His mop of bushy, black hair billowing up to dangle in midair. It drifted about like a bed of kelp swaying with the brush of the ocean’s currents. All the built-up energy you didn’t realize was coursing through your veins came to a staggering halt, The strength permeating your limbs immediately drained. You’ve been under the influence of Aizawa’s quirk before when you were caught in the mix of his frustrations at the pranksters of your class, so this wasn’t an unexplored feeling, but it was still jarring to be stripped of all your powers you so flippantly take for granted.
As you looked around, you realized your statement was wrong—not all of the teachers were there. Not apologizing for telling the truth, you continued your comments as though Aizawa had never threatened you, “Ixnay that—not everyone's here. Where’s the rest of them?” Aizawa sighed and released you from the hold of his power when he realized you were simply ignoring his wrath. Honestly? He tips his hat to you for the response. Avoiding confrontation is sometimes the best course of action.
“Huh? Oh! Ha ha, you’re so clever! We brought it up briefly to the other staff members but—,” Power Loader had begun, but he was soon interrupted.
“They either had no interest or were busy with other plans for the Purge.” Vlad finally spoke up from his dark corner. Right, you remember why you don’t speak to him all that often. He scared the living shit out of you. At least you can have a somewhat decent conversation with Aizawa. With Vlad King, it’s always cold-shoulders and overdramatic frustration to simple questions you ask him. Those brief few words reeked such deadly poison, as if saying that anyone could ignore you was a crime against humanity. His facial expression showed his irritation, a frown stretching down his worn features and a frustrated crinkle cut between his eyebrows.
“Thanks. I was in the middle of getting to that.” Power snarked at the behemoth hero.
“We asked All Might if he wanted to come along with us,” 13 chirped, “but he declined as well. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he’s around.”
“Yeah! Not to mention how he responded! Something like,” Mic made his voice stretch lower into his register with a profound, macho gusto, and a large smile—an All Might smile—grew on his lips, ""HA HA! I appreciate the offer, friends, but I will be alright on my own! Good luck to you! I am off!”, and ran off to who knows where. Weird!”
“You guys never let me say the important parts of the stories.” Power scowled to himself.
“Gotcha,” you acknowledged the length of explanation, “So…what happens now?” you prodded.
“Now,” Midnight coos at a distance that is yet again too close for comfort, “we get to have fun with you~.”
“WHAT?! I’m not some class pet. Find a guinea pig somewhere else!” you wriggled away from the dastardly woman.
“Endearing how much control you think you have over the situation,” Aizawa smirked. You hated his comfort in the idea of a fictional complacency, one that was only caused by your own fear of speaking against them, “Stop playing naive, (L/N).”
In an effort to distract yourself from his stare, you pressed, “What’s the big plan after all this then?”
“After what, dearest?” Midnight mused. She reached a hand to your hair and softly massaged your shoulders. Quite done with the games they played, you shook her lingering touches off.
“After the Purge is over. What do you plan to do with me?” You wanted to add a sassy ‘obviously’ somewhere in that question, but you held your tongue for now. We’ll see how long that lasts.
“Sweetie~, we plan to have you as ours!” Midnight purred, circling around you like a beast going in for the kill. You rolled your eyes—how vexing can this woman be?
“Wow! That’s so funny, I forgot to laugh.” You threw out a half-assed pity laugh for the pro. You looked at the other pros for some kind of confirmation that Midnight was just being her usual lofty self, but when no comforting gaze reached your eyes, you felt your grin crumble.
“Eh…heh. Alright, that’s how we’re playing this. All the unfunny jokes aside—Hell freaking NO am I letting you lot take me anywhere. I’m not going willingly! I kick, I scream, and I do bite. I’m feral, bitc—,” You managed to squirm hard enough that you actually broke away from whoever was holding you the tightest in the ball of limbs. You slid off the glossy table and slunk back a few feet. It was just spacious enough for you to finally get a deep breath in from the overwhelming physical affection but you were nowhere near a safe distance from the psychos of UA.
“Willingly isn’t an issue. Plenty of us have quirks that can make you submit easily. Resistance will only produce failure for you. I don’t want to be forced to hurt your miniscule feelings.” Vlad gruffed out. He truly reminded you of an English bulldog—grumpy and hard-headed to the extreme.
“Oh, be sweeter, Vlad! Don’t scare the poor thing before we’ve had our fun.” 13 tried to reason with the ice-cold man.
“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.
“No, you’re being a wet blanket,” Mic advised with a casual whistle.
“Shut up.” The white-haired man huffed out a pointed wind of air. With tusks as sharp as nails protruding out of his mouth, harsh huffs of breath that escaped his nose, and rising anger visibly seeping from his form, it made the image of him in your mind morph from cute, grumpy bulldog to a ravenous warthog.
“No, you shut up!” Power Loader lept on the chance to start bickering with Vlad King as he was still irritated at him for stealing his thunder.
“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty. Now, can we please get back to the much more pleasant person of interest?” Midnight tried to get the boys to back off, but her joke only made them that much more infuriated.
“Who’re you calling pretty?!” Vlad whipped his head over to the purple-haired sex fiend.
“Fix your words, Midnight, or I’ll give you something to be sorry for.” Vlad reared in, sneering at the woman something fierce.
“Here we go,” Aizawa muttered while shrinking further into his tall scarf tower.
“Nice one, Nemuri.” Hizashi bumped her with his elbow.
“I apologize…for you being a whiny BITCH!” You could practically see the overexaggerated sweat drop slip down the rest of the teachers’ heads as the beast of a man went off the rails from Midnight’s claim. He started stomping around, bellowing and nearly tossed a table across the room. You stood there and just…watched the man go from a professional, stoic, respectable instructor to a crybaby throwing the most dangerous tantrum known to mankind.
Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.
Would he have preferred gorgeous?
That joke, while absolutely hilarious and should have been told for at least someone to hear its magnificence, you held in your throat so you didn’t get bitch slapped by a heavy office chair and receive a one-way ticket, all-expense-paid trip to God’s doorstep. You used the teacher’s being distracted with trying to calm the raging boarman down as an opportunity to scan for available exits. They were currently blocking the only door in or out, so that way out was an absolute no-go. You looked behind you and saw another door, but it didn’t look like it would provide a fruitful escape. By process of elimination, it would most likely be another closet that had no exit—and you DID NOT want to be stuck in one of those again. It was a miracle that the one earlier tonight had one! You do not want to try your luck again with much more threatening opponents in your way.
Inspecting further, there didn’t appear to be any other doors around to scamper out of. The last option you had was the large pane windows facing the outside, normally providing you with quite a beautiful bird’s eye view of the city. While it was an escape route, the task of escaping after exiting would be less than ideal. You were currently at least six storeys off of the ground, and you couldn’t guarantee that your quirk would save you from that high of a drop. Plus, the roof was still at least a few floors upwards, so you couldn’t hang out of the window and easily grab a railing. Not that you’d be sneaky enough to do that without alerting the bickering party of adults in front of you. You weren’t sure where else you could turn to avoid a serious temper tantrum.
Shatter.
A window to the side of where you were standing abruptly splintered away. A rush of the chilled night air flooded the room with one thorough sweep. The infiltration was not caused by the window simply breaking due to a strong gust of wind or a tree branch breaking the surface. No—it turned out to be a rather unwelcome intruder.
“Heyo~,” a certain bombshell blond’s lilting tone filled the thick tension in the boardroom. Your eyes zeroed in on the hero’s iconic ruby-red wings and instantly knew who it was. Hawks! You’d seen him in the field before from a distance, even captured his attention for long enough to have a brief conversation. A certain twist in your chest wrung out the breath filling your lungs when you thought about his suave nature that day.
You were there with your three main boys the day you’d met Hawks. You had just started working at Endeavor’s agency because of the generous offer provided to you by Todoroki during the Holiday party. It was certainly kind of him to extend his hand to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You tackled him in a hug, and you watched obliviously how he nearly short-circuited at the affection. Though the day you all met up to head off, Bakugou had been acting a little salty around Shoto that afternoon after discovering that he had reached out to you too to join them, but you figured it was just usual Bakugou. Always waking up on the angry side of the bed. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s because none of them wanted to make fools of themselves in front of you. Him especially. You are quite oblivious to the “more-than-just-friends” affection they had for you, but Deku was happy keeping it that way. After a bit, the four of you had settled in together and met Shoto’s father.
No thanks to Bakugou’s “stellar” introduction with the pro, Endeavor had put his foot down to deny taking on other interns, other than his own son. Thankfully, hero work is never finished, as a villain attacked then and there. All of you sprung into action despite Endeavor’s denial, and that is when you saw it. Or, rather, him. Red spears descending from the sky like Valkyries swooping in to protect the weak. You saw soon enough that these weren’t spears, they were feathers. The winged hero, Hawks, aided Endeavor in taking down the crazed terrorizer effortlessly. No hesitancy or mercy. Not so much as a bead of sweat lining his forehead either. After recuperating, you and Izuku practically tackled the man in an effort to meet him.
In the staggeringly casual meeting, he was pleased to say he already knew about you from your close friend, Tokoyami. However, he pretty much overlooked the green-haired puffball as he stuck you down with his unnerving amber pools. Hawks suavely shared that he was especially excited to meet you specifically. We’re these most likely only sugar-coated words to get your heart racing for the notorious playboy? Rationally, absolutely. His ego knew no bounds—he’d do anything to get the fans swooning for his flippant affections. Yet, you fell for it nonetheless. You hopelessly played the perfect giddy fan as you devoured all his teasing remarks, his infatuation with your quirk, and his cocky winks. A peck of his lips strategically gifted to the back of your hand was given to no doubt solidify a good relationship, but you nearly passed out. You gushed at the attention before, and you probably would again. You were no different from any faces in his crowd of fans that he interacted with. Or so you thought.
He soon took off after meeting with Bakugou and Shoto briefly. You’d geeked out about the interaction afterwards to the boys. An blatant envy to Hawks’ ease at impressing the masses, you as well now included, made them stumble at their advances. Izuku buried his own jealousy at the hero by directing your attention back to what the rest of the day had planned, and it distracted him from the negative feelings too, thankfully. Shoto had crossed his arms and stood as a silent watcher to walk alongside you. You did catch that he was standing rather close to you. Bakugou only spat insult after insult about the bird brain and the hot-headed waste of a father, hoping that tarnishing the memory of Hawks in your mind would get your mind off of that loser and onto him. He soon cooled off, and became a bodyguard beside you, like Shoto, mumbling to himself about how “pointless” it was to chat with the likes of that douche.
You knew that this meeting was no accident. Hopefully, the hero is here to save you from this awful nightmare. Though, he didn’t show up alone.
“Hawks,” Snipe grumbled a rugged greeting, quite obviously ticked off that the snarky bastard was ruining their sanctuary, “what’re you doin’ here?”
“Oh, not here for any particular reason. Flyin’ around, stopping to smell the roses…,” he lolled his head to look right at you, a devilish smirk lining his strikingly handsome face.
“Inspecting suspicious activity in the area.” A velvety smooth voice strikes up from behind you. You jump and whip your head to the side to see the culprit. Laying a gentle, yet comforting, grip on your shoulder was the famous Rabbit Hero: Mirko. You hadn’t really gotten a chance yet to interact with her in your journey as an aspiring hero. You’d heard about her competitive nature through various interviews you’d seen her in. You’d never felt more like prey than now, underneath her sight. Nonetheless, she was even more stunning than the media could convey. Her white locks draped along your shoulder as she peered down over you, the faint scent of lavender and earthy rubble wafting into your senses. Rumi’s piercing blood-tinged irises looked down upon you with a satisfactory expression. The lingering glint of fire locked within her gaze guided you to understand that whatever was driving her on this mission to confront your captors was far from fizzling out.
You’d heard some about personal interactions with her from Bakugou and Midoriya when they worked with her in the field. Deciphering Bakugou’s turn of phrase you’ve come to be fluent in after all these years, you gauged that she wasn’t too bad of a coworker. He’d said she was strong and that she had a kick that was no joke. When Bakugou remembered something about the people he fought alongside, you knew they left some impression on him—good or bad. He did make a point to reiterate that she only “gets in his way”, but he regards everyone that way, so it’s not a huge concern. Midoriya mostly info-dumped about her quirk and every fighting tactic he’d thought up to either aid her or counter her, but you didn’t mind his ramblings. Animal-based quirks like hers were always intriguing to learn about, and you’d appreciated him taking the time to tell you all the information he’d drug out of the woman. They both agreed (shockingly) they would like to work with her again.
You asked some of the girls of 3-A what they thought of Mirko before, and were surprised when they all nearly trampled you in their freak-out fangirling over the woman. Hagakure gushed over how much she loved what Mirko was doing for the community of women in the pro hero society. She adored how Mirko showed the world that women weren’t just damsels in distress; that the power and strength they hold mentally and physically is one to behold. Mina giddily hugged your arm as she declared the hero gave her confidence to not hide any of her more eccentric or “out-of-the-norm”, as she put it, features. Momo allowed herself to become vulnerable as she shared how Mirko taught her how if others don’t have confidence in your abilities you have to be your own advocate. Perfectionism was rampant in the poor girl, and she had such high expectations for herself. Seeing Momo learning to be more gentle with herself was comforting.
 Jiro and Uraraka explained all the ways she really was a fantastic figure for women, not simply aspiring heroes, to look up to. Strong, snarky, never afraid to throw a quick insult or punch to any ignorant when she needed to. Mirko was not known to be a passive presence; she made sure you know exactly what her opinion on any matter is when she gets in your face to tell you it. Since she wasn’t attached to an agency, most would think she’d be an outcast, but they’d be wrong. The girls told you how she was a lone wolf type, that she’d rather handle everything her own way. You admired her for that. Mirko’s belief of not fitting in with the crowd to instead be at the front lines of encouraging others to break the mold society says you should fit is one to be coveted.
“How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Mirko warmly asked you. You froze when you heard your name fall from her lips. How did she know you? You’d never met face-to-face before in your life! She’s even prettier than the photos snapped by her paparazzi could try to convey.
“Are these guys giving you any trouble~?” Hawks ruffled your hair as he sprouted up next to you like a daisy in a sunny meadow. You felt your face heat up at their actions, not getting used to the unwavering attention of such prestigious members of the Hero Agencies. Also, they’re two of the most gorgeous people in all of Japan. Even a sparse glance in someone’s direction would be enough to make anyone crumple to their knees—nevermind that they’re actually addressing you. You were having a hard time standing up on your own, knees wobbly and jittery, your eyes bouncing back and forth between the two in a fumbling manner. All you could think about was not making a total fool of yourself in front of your heroes. That’s about when you realized you hadn’t responded to them, leaving everyone listening with bated breath at your silence.
You wanted to slap yourself for the silly star-struck reaction, “Oh! I–um…,”
“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Surprisingly, Cementoss’ usual composed tone took a frozen turn. Guess he didn’t appreciate the two of them being here. In fact, it looked to be that most of the teachers in that room didn’t care much for the pros being present, all of them having a crinkled up forehead and scowles dotting their lips. That, or the frustration is from the broken window. Whoops.
“They’d feel more fine if you’d back off.” Vlad King, who had finally calmed down, cautioned the duo. Though he’d cooled off his ramage, you could see the irritated vein popping out underneath his skin, so another outburst was sure to loop back around. Whether it was expressed in a hunched posture, snippy tone, or the expression on their faces; the teachers all agreed on one thing. These two were trouble and had to be escorted away from their darling now.
“Yeesh! What a tough crowd, Mirko!” Hawks overdramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. He leaned his body backwards, grasping his other hand over his chest where his heart lies, and wailed out in a helpless maiden-like tone. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he’s such a drama queen. It’s silly, but also somewhat charming, in a way.
“Ha! Seems so, Hawks. Hey, chill out, we’re only here to play babysitter, old timer.” Mirko snickered to herself. Hawks joined in her light-hearted teasing with a bright chortle of his own. His laugh formed from a cluster of tiny clicks rattling through his teeth.
“...What was that, little lady?” Vlad’s temper was never one to back down as he cracked his knuckles. You felt Mirko’s hand clasp tighter around your shoulder at Vlad’s choice of words. You could tell she wanted to go off on him and rip him to shreds both verbally and physically, but held her tongue. Now was not the time to start a war.
“Eh, don’t take it so personally, King! She was just pointing out the obvious~,” Hawks egged the man on. Seems to be Hawks didn’t agree with the “no war” idea. You were beginning to get a bit nervous with the pros’ language. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the boar man’s tantrum, as previously mentioned, so why were they purposefully lighting his fuse?! At least move you out of the way first before digging their own grave! Though, you might get pushed into it with them when you can’t dodge their crossfire.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” 13 sneered at the shade.
“You’re all…wise from all your experiences,” words posing as carefully chosen by Hawks no doubt fired up the two more.
“But (Y/N) needs protection from a fresher-faced cast. If you catch our drift~,” Mirko finished for her quick-witted partner.
“That is why you’re all gathered, right? For the Purge?” Hawks anything but innocently asked the group. Those who weren’t lost in their own rage showed a glimpse of hesitation in the answer. Hawks, willing to take a mile from the inch they gave him, ran with their slip-up.
“So, it is true. Judging by the switch in your behaviors, and from that out of the ordinary hue in your irises, seems to me like this lot caught the illness. Probably from those students bulldozing through the school. Can you believe it, Mirko?” Hawks swiftly closed the little distance between you two by slinging an arm over your shoulders.
“I can. They’ve been in such close proximity, it’s no wonder they caught it. I’m just disappointed. They’re supposed to protect people like our lovely (Y/N) here from these incidents. Instead, they’re fueling the catastrophe Hmm. You must’ve been so scared running away from these shit excuses for teachers.” Mirko brought her hand to your cheeks and pinched them together to make your lips pout outward.
“Hey! You know that’s bull—,” Power Loader barked as he leaned across a nearby table.
“What were you sickos planning to do with them, huh? Make them your slave after this night,” Hawks unapologetically interrupted the man, a silence washing over the room at the question being sprung, “Force them to be at your beck and call for everything? Splay their body out to satisfy your needs whenever and wherever you wanted? Disgusting.” Hawks veered his body in front of yours to shield it with one of his huge red wings. The more he talked about what your captors would do to you after the Purge, the more fear reeved up to course through your veins. While thinking about the possibilities of what would happen after the Purge if you were caught, Hawks’ accusations had crossed your mind, but you tried to ignore them earlier. They wouldn't…they’d respect your wishes even if you…belonged to them after all this! They—not your friends, nor your teachers—wouldn’t do those horrible things to you.
And yet, based on everything that’s happened thus far…
You’re not sure anymore.
You shrunk into Mirko’s side deeper, wishing to disappear from the conversation of your fate entirely. You felt her wrap an arm around your waist, and you felt safer with the basically strangers than you had all night long with your long-time partners. You wanted to cry from the relief of finally having somewhere safe to turn. You held the tears back to see where their confrontations would lead.
You felt Mirko lead your stiff body with fleeting strides. She was obviously trying to give you an out, so you went willingly. Just let them do as they please. Anything to get out of this suffocating mess. Hawks caught on to her.
“How dare you try to make those foolish claims against us,” Aizawa began, rage climbing high in his heart. He reached for his infamous scarf and pulled the end piece out, preparing for his attack. Screw playing nice. Screw relying on others. Fuck letting these idiots walk all over him. The nerve of this flashy waste of space dictating him to be the kind of monster that would take advantage of you. You’d been in his life for so long now that he hardly even tries to remember the times without you and his other students. So many tough challenges your class has faced, and yet, each hurdle was leapt over with no hesitation. Your entire class had brought him such joy over the years through the sorrow. His kids. However, you and Shinsou undoubtedly claimed the prize to share the number one spot on his favorites list. You’d been so attentive and caring over him when he’d left you to flounder for air. Late nights powering through boring essays, countless assignments completed only an hour before they were due, the weekend study sessions that almost always turned into game nights or gossiping over snacks that he’d seen you participate in with your other friends. You work so tirelessly to be a good student and attentive friend. That effort wasn’t unnoticed by his watchful eye.
There were many more less impactful moments shared that, dare he say, mean even more to him than the death-defying acts you’d survived together. Chats over the positive current life events with him drinking his standard cup of muddy brown coffee and you casually sipping your own beverage. Walks around campus with him, Midoriya, Tokoyami, Ojiro, and you. The sky gleaming a dazzling aqua blue with the sun sparkling overhead, but not in an overwhelming glare. Puffy clouds dancing in the air. A pleasant, flowery breeze twirling past you. One late night in the common room when he was making his last round to make sure everyone was securely in their dorms, he found you sitting on the couch brushing off the aggressive tears slipping down your cheeks.
When he’d made his presence known that night, you’d shot up like a fired bullet off the comfy sofa, scrubbing your puffy eyes in an attempt at covering up the residual cry session. You’d greeted him warmly with a laughing cough to hide your choked up throat, but he shut down your plan of concealment by hinting that he’d already seen your sadness flowing. That night he sat beside you and talked. Talked about what you were upset about, talked through your doubts, fears, and resentment over how you didn’t know what you were going to do now. Gave you a sorrow-filled look when you broke down into a fit of violent sobs again. He even sat with you in a lingering, but reassuring, silence after your sobs faded.
Only then did Aizawa release a sliver of his own castle walls to give you a hug holding as much love as he could spare from his withered and beaten heart. He told you many ways how your class had changed him to be a better man. How you inspired him to keep pushing himself to look ahead to what beauty the future could hold. Aizawa promised you that night that no one was going to abandon you like you’d feared. He promised to always be there for you whenever you needed his support. All he needed was for you to reach out, and he’d claw up any bit of strength he had left to come rescue you like the hero he promised Oboro and Hizashi he would become. Today was no different from back then.
These fakes weren’t going to tarnish his cherished memory of that night with you. That night, when you’d smiled back up at him with a wobbly grin and soggy eyes, now glistening with hope from his words, you should have known he wouldn’t let some nobodies crush your heart. These wretches didn’t stand a chance.
Power Loader cut Aizawa off to continue, “We would never. Stop trying to scare them like that!”
13, back to her reasonable self, even tried coaxing you, “(Y/N), they are lying. We would never betray you. Now, if you’d please come back here—,”
Feeling bolder with allies at your side, you forced your lips to move to stop their rambling lies, “Why should I believe a single word that comes out of any of your mouths?!” The room fell into stillness. It was as if the whole world had shut itself up to give you the stage to speak your mind.
Fed up and running off of pure adrenaline, you continued, “None of you have asked for my opinion on anything that has happened tonight. You don’t care what I have to say; all you give a shit about is doing whatever the fuck you want to me. You didn’t tell me what you were planning. You spied on me, you kidnapped me, and kept me stuck in this hell as your little hostage all night!
“Even if you did care about me, it was only to find out what you could gain from me for your selfish desires.” You downcasted your eyes at their knife-like glares.
Tears welled up and this time you couldn’t stop them from dragging down your tired face. You took a shaky breath to fill your deflated lungs, “I…I understand this virus has…changed you. I understand whatever you’re going through isn’t easy to fight against. But I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to any of you. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing. I just…can’t know. I’m too scared to even try to begin searching for the answer. My classmates have become the same as you—completely changed from who they are. They’ve been hunting me down. And now this thing has taken my teachers too?” Your lips wobbled at the realization of your loss.
“Ha…it’s like one sick joke the world is playing against me,” an exasperated laugh bled from your vocal chords, “I don’t know how it’s making you feel, but I know what it is making you do to me. You’re scaring me. I don’t feel safe. Around any of you. It isn’t crazy to consider you’d force me to do…other things too.”
You caught Aizawa’s eyes when you looked up. You turned away to save yourself from the heartbreak of his torn expression.
You curled into Hawks’ back, shrouding your emotional husk of a body in his fluffy feathers. You allowed the last few dying words left in your quaking heart to wheeze out, “Please. Leave me alone. Please.” Whether your teachers were mad at you for speaking against them, or if they wanted to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness, you had no clue. All you know is that Hawks whips around, gathers your trembling form in his arms, and takes a couple of steps back from Mirko.
“Hang on tight.” He gently whispers to you. Unconsciously, you obeyed, and securely held onto the fizzy collar of his iconic jacket.
“We’ll be watching over them for the rest of the Purge.” That cold, nonchalant jab to the teachers was the last fleeting acknowledgment Mirko threw at them. Hawks spread his wings.
“Next time, before you go destroying the mental and emotional well-being of your students, get a grip on reality.” The finality of Hawks’ tone was filled with all the venom that he felt you lovingly held back. Your kindness is not what this lot deserves. With that, he flapped his humongous wings a few times to kickstart his ascension and took off with you pressed tightly against him. He soared up and out of the broken window, making sure to cover you properly so you didn’t get sliced or stabbed by any broken glass. You watched Mirko clamber out of the rickety window from over his shoulder, land on the edge of the concrete window sill, and use her legs to jump as high into the air as she could.
You watched in awe as she practically flew up several storeys, confidently grasp the edge of the railing atop the roof, and gently sling herself onto the roof without so much as a hiccup. Judging by the trajectory of where Hawks was flying, he too was aiming for the roof. Not like you cared at this point. As long as you were away from them, you’d be fine to go anywhere they took you.
“We at Air Hawks thank you for flying with us on this gorgeous evening, esteemed passenger. We have now reached our destination, the rooftop of the illustrious UA High. The weather outside is clear skies at a balmy 75°, so you may see a stunning view of the city tonight. Please take care and follow your charming, ever good-looking pilot as he will guide you towards the exit.” Hawks cracked a light joke to try and pull you out of the dark headspace you were currently dwelling inside. You spared him a half-hearted giggle for his attempt, allowing him to release the hold his hands had on the backs of your knees. You plopped your feet down softly to the ground just as Mirko had made it over.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Mirko held out her hands, her gaze trained on Sero’s tape that was still wound snugly around your wrists. Wow. You’d entirely forgotten they were still there. You lifted your wrists to the admirable woman and merely watched as she took your already reddening wrists into hers.
“Honestly. What barbarians. To leave you bound like this? Complete bullshit.” Mirko muttered insult after insult under her breath as she wasted no time in destroying the binding. She took your wrists up to her mouth and carefully chomped down using her steely, rabbit-esque front teeth on the strips to make a sizable cut through them. She gently pulled your wrists apart and the tape effortlessly split. Free, at last.
Using your fingers, you tore away the remaining severed strips with a wince, and threw them to the ground. Battered and bruised, you saw that your wrists were nearing raw from how much struggling against the tape’s adhesive you’d done. You gave a quick massage to stimulate blood flow back into your numbing fingertips.
“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.
“Much. Thank you for getting me out of there. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a cooler getaway than two of the top pro heroes in Japan being my saviors.” you tossed a light joke in along with the gratitude. You yanked the two pros into your chest with a tight hug to further show your thanks, taking a deep breath against their chests. They were rigid at first, but they both allowed themselves. However, while being this close, they couldn’t help but notice the sweet smell drifting off of your clothing. There was little the pros could do to avoid the intoxicating aroma, but before they could delve further into what it was, they heard a tiny sniffle sound from your buried head.
With an alertness to you that he hadn’t felt before, Hawks pulled you away from his chest with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s up, baby bird?” Hawks were much more determined than he had been all night to get you to open up about what was going on in your brain.
Not looking up from the ground to respond, he placed his fingertips underneath your chin and tilted your bent head up. You had a thread of silvery tears lining your lower lash line and a wobbly lip that made both Mirko and Hawks’ aggravation boil their blood.
“Hon, tell us what’s wrong.” Mirko commanded. She could barely contain the loathing that spiderwebbed throughout her heart. When she gets her hands on those measly heroes who mistreated you, she is going to make them wish they’d never bothered you with their worthless existence ever again. Lousy maggots. Just as Mirko’s mind was going to float off the deep end into disturbing plans of vile and ruthless methods of punishment, she caught herself.
Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.
No, the aggressiveness was not new. She’d always had a bit of spark to her. Her wild thoughts are what made her such a great hero; that’s how Mirko became widely recognized for her prowess. It was who she was having the ruthless feelings against that surprised her. She’s worked with those pros, her coworkers and friends, for years. She barely knows you at all. Yet, she’s planning every possible way she could make the insolent, ignorant gang pay for their mistreatment.
Although, why should that fact matter? Why shouldn’t they pay? Sure, they’re her friends, but they abused an innocent. They forcefully used their quirks and position of power over you to make you suffer! It’s despicable. It’s dishonorable. They should face the punishment of the law. But…that isn’t enough. Her rationality slips, drifting further away the longer she feels you warm her. It fuels a fire within her, and that fire sets the marrow lining her bones a light. She doesn’t want to toss the aggressors off to the police like a spineless coward. You deserve better than that. You deserve more. You deserve justice. She is justice. Technically, she is the law. She will make them pay. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!
God, she hasn’t felt this warmth in a long time. Too long. You’re wonderful.
Hawks isn’t faring any better. He’s wild-eyed—his mind deep sketching out the framework of delusional fantasies of him taking you on as his trainee, showing you all the tips and tricks he’s learned in the harsh world of hero life, and quite literally taking you under his wing. Maybe you two become more after you get closer. Keigo isn’t unfamiliar with the desire of wanting companionship in his life. He often finds himself daydreaming of a partner by his side, on and off the field of battle. Never a specific person, just a faceless, nameless being, fluttering through his desires. Smiling, laughing, enjoying each other's time together. Cute stuff. Hawks yearns for that small sliver of normalcy. Keigo wants to feel human—to feel whole again after everything he’s been stripped of in his miserable existence.
With you, even though your interactions have been brief and you’ve endured some light flirting of his that is barely considerably mentionable, you’ve brought him nothing but a comforting and loving feeling. He feels indebted to you for simply being you. Not lying to him, or trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly surrounded by deceptive and cruel human nature. He truly couldn’t tell you how many thousands of googly-eyed newbies have introduced themselves to him, praying for even a small flicker of his fame to rub off on them. Hoping to use him to spring them up into the actually noticeable charts. It’s so easy to read them too. They’re open, flimsy magazines. Bright, colorful, eye-catching, and full of back-stabbing and strategically fabricated lies. Spread wide and pleading for him to flip through their pages. They always hiss lies through their teeth, grinning and bearing the once-in-a-lifetime interaction. But no matter how much sucking up they commit to or how well they try to veil the truth of their intentions behind sugared words, he never fails to see through them.
Guess the training he went through as a child was good for something. If you don’t open up to people, you can never get hurt. Sure, that tactic has worked wonders…up until meeting you.
But he’s just so tired. He just wants to lower the railing and find something worth all the fight he puts up.
You might be his outlet.
“It’s…it’s just been a long night. I’m sorry—,” you tried to cover your face with your forearm, desperate to conceal the embarrassing honest showing on your face. Mirko gently removed your shield with a comforting smile.
“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”
“Never ever apologize for your feelings—,” both pros stumbled over each other’s words. When they realized they were getting anywhere by interrupting the other, they shared a look. After a small nod shared, they wrapped their arms around you again.
“You’re okay,” they both said at the same time, cradling you against them once again. You snuggled deeper, taking that chance to breathe deep and avoid spiraling into a panic attack.
While your arms were around the two, you accidentally brushed against Hawks’ wings. That is when you noticed his wings had puffed up in size, similar to how any bird does when they want to appear bigger to a threat they face. He had been very tense at the beginning of the hug, so maybe he was only nervous, so you chose to not question it. Plus, you’d just let a room full of deadly pro heroes! Yeah, it’s alright. However, the light thudding taps of Rumi’s foot against the concrete roof was something you couldn’t explain. Is it normal for hybrid rabbits to emulate this characteristic from their bunny counterparts? You’re not too sure.
You tried to pull away, but their tight grips didn’t let you. Oh. Well, maybe they’re both in desperate need of a hug. You’re very familiar with your classmates coming to you for hugs during their rougher days. They always said you had the best hugs, and you take great pride in that fact. Come to think of it, maybe you should ask them all about their mental health more often, just so no one spirals off the deep end and punches another classmate (thank you for that, Bakugo).
OH! Your friends! Maybe Hawks and Mirko can help them! Yes, that’s a great plan.
Peeling further back, you tilted your head up to look them in their eyes. You let out an airy chuckle, “As much as I enjoy the hug, I need some more of your help.”
They instantly lightened their steely grips. Not too much to let you slip away. Mirko held a smug look, as if knowing you’d come crawling back to her for her aid. SHe’s the only one who can provide for you properly, afterall. Don’t worry, let her handle everything for her darling. No task is too big for her. Hawks resembled that of a grinning puppy, excited and warm. Eager to perform any task for praise and treats. Yes! Anything you want, darling, they can provide! What do you need?
They didn’t supply you with a verbal answer, but the looks they carried spoke loud enough, so you continued, “My classmates. I don’t know what happened to my friends, but they’ve got the same thing the teachers do. I think everyone’s infected. I have to help them, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”
As soon as they heard you utter the word “friends”, their bliss was shot and struck the ground like a wounded songbird. Their brains shut off to stop the nonsense you were suggesting. Friends? You need people other than them?! And what’s worse, is you want them to help those idiots?! Last they checked, they were public enemy number one for making you run yourself ragged up and down those endless halls! No, that can’t be right. Those fools don’t deserve their help. Not for what they made you go through.
“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.
The rest of the sentence you were sputtering falters. You gaze up at the rabbit hero, “...What?”
With a second look-over, Mirko appears a lot scarier than she did only minutes beforehand. Have her eyes always been this clouded? Her unrelenting gaze exudes a darker inkling than when you’d faced her way. Rumi’s eyes stuck on you like gum bonded to the bottom of your shoe.
No. This wouldn’t happen again. They said they’d be better than this—better than them.
Hawks obnoxiously cleared his throat to brush the eerie vibe away from the floundering conversation, “Ehh…haha! What Rumi means is not right now. It’s too dangerous to go searching for your friends now. Finding help for them after the Purge settles down is the safest strategy.” Hawks smoothly saved Mirko’s ass with the perfect excuse, served up on a shining silver platter. You didn’t appreciate how obviously strained Hawks’ tone became at “friends”.
“Let’s get you somewhere safe. Preferably away from this shithole.” She mumbled the last portion, keeping the snark to her own chest, but her contempt for the institution was blatant. Mirko’s eyes were laced with flaming venom as she fleetingly paid attention to the concrete walls. A sneer broke out on her lips, as if just the idea of standing on top of the building was a sin itself.
“Ah… okay.” You tried to leave the hug again. They persisted.
“Mirko—,” Hawks’ voice twisted into a demanding tone. His blown out, puppy-like pupils cinched into vicious slits, staring down the woman.
“Hawks, I don’t want to hear it. Back off.” Mirko gnashed back at the blond. The two began an all out war against each other, both tugging against the other’s advances. A tug to the left, a drag to the right, both parties were unrelenting. Neither wanted to allow the victory of having you in their arms.
“You’re holding them too tightly!” Keigo whined.
“Well, you’re not holding them tight enough.” Mirko argued back. You’ve seen this before. It reminded you of two children fighting over who got to play with which toy, always bickering how the other was “doing it wrong”. It reminded you of Ochaco fighting the guys. It reminded you of Denki and Mina struggling over who got to hold you. Childish squabbles.
Liars, the lot of them. They didn’t want to help you. If they did before, not anymore. They’re infected, there’s no other answer for their behavior.
“Keigo, just stop it! You and I both know that you can’t protect them.” Mirko snarked. That caught the bird’s attention judging by the way his eyes dug into her, all emotion scrapped from his expression. A grim look stole the spot, one that told of violence and mayhem running rampant in behind his eyes. An expression usually reserved for the villains he so often made easy prey of. This is awful.
“And what is that supposed to mean, rabbit?” Hawks’ eyes looked wilder than before.
“I think you and I both know what I meant.” She snarked back, ruffling his feather figuratively and quite literally.
“Be honest with yourself. When was the last time you were able to save something that you actually cared about?” Mirko hatched a devilish plan. She took the chance of his loss of temper to clutch you against her. She took a couple spacious leaps back, creating a sizable distance between her friend turned enemy. Hawks plucked two giant feathers from his wingspan that sharped out into duo blades resembling two scimitars.
“I’m done being—,” just before Hawks could spiral off the deep end into whatever hell he had planned to put Mirko through, a disturbance crashed the party.
“Enough, you two.” A formidable voice shook from the shadows. Those few words are all it takes for the two beside you to back off from tearing out each other’s throats. Whoever it was had the ability to command total control of a room in an instant. You couldn’t see them, but you knew the voice came from the other side of the stairwell exit.
“Great,” Mirko scoffs, tilting her head to look the other way with a cross of her arms. You couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or the shame from being caught. Judging by her scowl, it’s probably the latter.
“Endeavor…how long have—,” Hawks sputtered out. You swivel your head to the gap at the birdman. No fucking way it’s the number one hero. He’s gotta be wrong. The number one pro hero showing up to participate in the Purge is unheard of. Guess you’d be wrong. Though, you suppose that even the number one gets a pass during today. It’s just jarring since All Might had not once in all his years of being the symbol of peace even be seen during the Purge hours. He probably just didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal with the news or social media if he were to ever be discovered converting to be a player of the Purge’s game.
Sure enough though, the one who rounds the corner is in fact Endeavor. He shut Hawks up with a simple raise of his palm and an unforgiving glare. The once cheery hawk tucks into himself and shields his frustration away from the number one.
The first thing that shows you the reality of the situation is his overwhelming stature. You severely underestimated the way this man takes up a room. Seeing him in TV interviews on the news and fighting against villains is one thing, but it is a completely different beast to be face-to-face with him stalking towards you. It made sense why he was deemed the top—with such a suffocating aura, it was hard to believe that any villain even tried to oppose the behemoth. You should know, you’ve met him before.
During your training with him alongside the boys, it had been quite the feat. You’d mostly done in-field training with the boys, but the one time you did have one-on-one training with the pro was unnerving, to say the least. Endeavor had watched your every move, his eyes never straying too far from where you’d displayed the extent of your Quirk’s usefulness. You knew you were as capable, even more so since you could control your emotions, as Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki. Let’s face it, all three of them had a tendency to act out far too irrationally due to their urges and feelings, and they weren’t shy about expressing it. Although, your self control put you in a favorable light with Endeavor, so it wasn’t strange that he gave more of his attention to you.
Instead of bickering and combating everything the pro said with a harsh glower like Katsuki had, you listened intently and gave Endeavor undivided attention. Instead of ignoring the man who actively tried to give pointers and choosing to walk faster ahead of the group like Shoto had, you hung back and asked questions about what Shoto had done wrong in his approach and how to improve his strategy. You became more agile, better aware of your surroundings, and able to predict some of the moves villains would try to throw at you. You understood that the opportunity that Shoto had given to you all with training under his father for the work-study was not something to be taken lightly. Was the man a little too much of a hardass for your taste? Yes. But he was not a pushover. He had valuable lessons to teach you all from experiences he’s faced during his years in the field. If you wanted to actually place in the hero charts one day, you knew you’d have to get past your own opinions on the man and try to cooperate.
If someone asked your opinion of Endeavor, they’d understand he’s not your favorite hero to grace the charts. You’d believed him to be startlingly cold for the fiery nature of his quirk. It was easy to say you’d originally thought him to be nothing but an ass with too hot of a head on his shoulders, and while that was still the truth more often than not, he had his moments of clarity. The media did have a knack for stringing up the moments of his ill temper caught on film and making them the headline of every social media platform. What you had learned during your trainings held at the crack of dawn was that he was extremely precise. There was never a lack of communication or any doubt held within his words whenever he instructed you. Swing a right hook into the dummy’s torso. Sweep your leg to the left to knock the opponent over. He was straight to the point and earnest in the compliments regarding your physical improvements.
He’d even let you spar against him one day. Endeavor had taken the four of you and one of his many sidekicks, Burnin, to the rooftop during one of the few freetimes you’d actually had. He asked you to step across from him and get into your fighting position. He instructed no quirks be used, that it be purely a hand-to-hand combat session that balanced skill and strength together. With Burnin as the referee, you’d begun. He thankfully didn’t go easy on you as he views not giving his all into any task as a “halfass lazy excuse”, so you’d fight with your entire being against Endeavor. He educated the four of you through commentating on all of the things you did wrong; how you’d left yourself open to a couple of jabs from him, turned your back to him often enough that he’d seized an opportunity to lunge and knock you over, and such. Though you were outmatched in a number of categories, you soon understood why he was putting you to this impossible challenge. Enji wanted you to get creative with your tactics to take down your foe. You needed to outwit his strength.
With the newfound spark of inspiration, you struck. You made a move imitating that of one you’d tried against him earlier. A simple left hook. He knew he could easily deflect the punch, so he took the bait. You’d noticed before that he was much more sturdy with his right side, which left room for error on his left, so you took the chance. You sidestepped into his peripheral and closed in behind him. You kicked in the back of his right knee, forcing him to stumble to the ground. You knew you couldn’t tackle the man over from this position, nor could you keep him pinned there due to how much force you had to use to kick his knee alone, so you went with the quickest option. You needed to hit a weak point, but since his body was covered in mostly muscle, you only had a few options. Since kicking him in the groin seemed like too cruel for a simple sparring session, the spots above his neck would have to do. You jumped up onto his back, shimmied up enough to hang onto his shoulder, and threw a hard punch right into his throat.
You left him choking on his air and wheezing. He grasped at his neck, steadying himself on his other arm. Leaving him no hands to defend against your assault. You then shoved your hands into his hair, pulled on the strands tightly, and swung your body forward over the man’s shoulder. You let gravity handle the rest. Your body weight pulled his unstable torso forward and he hit the ground with a hefty SMACK! You bent your knees to land sturdily on the ground with minimal impact to your footing and let his face take the brunt of the fall. You then placed your knee hard on the middle of his shoulder blades to pin him and Burnin deemed the match completed with an impressed grin lilting on her face. Admittedly, for the rest of that day, you gloated the pride you felt at taking down the mountain of a man a little too obviously.
You knew that day he most likely wanted to make an example out of you when he presumed you wouldn’t win the fight, but you’d made sure he understood not to fuck around with you or your generosity again.
Zooming back to the present, you caught his eyes goring a hole right through you. Brilliant aqua blue irises stuck out like a sore thumb against his smoldering flames. No matter how much Shoto tried to deny the fact, he truly was Endeavor’s child. That striking blue color kept locked down within the Endeavor lineage and fiery red hair that draped over half of his head was unmistakable. Features that, however much wasted on the shitty attitude the man possessed, would make many and most fall head-over-heels for their stunning effect. Though, in your opinion, Shoto wore the beauty better.
Enji’s gaze was harsh towards you, but it was kind compared to the one he shot at Mirko’s arm wrapped around you. Perceptive, the woman held you closer, as if trying to defy his silent demand of releasing you. She was dead set on not going down without a fight. Before she could hope for one to begin, Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder as a soft hint to not involve you in Endeavor’s unrivaled wrath. Mirko knew he was right. Dammit it all. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she relented, back off of you. She left you to fend for yourself against the beast, cast you aside to the big bad wolf who wouldn’t spare you. It reminded you of the tale of Odysseus facing off with Polyphemus—only you were unarmed and lacking a foolproof plan of escape and this giant won’t allow arrogance to be his downfall yet again like the monster from the epic had.
Finally, Endeavor was right in front of you. If you had any bravery left from the night, it vanished wholly with him staring you down. Endeavor hardly even spared a tilt of his head to gaze down upon you, opting to stare through a half-lidded examination. The only indication that he was human and not some freaky Terminator cyborg from the future coming to hunt you down was the ever-present scowl he’s so fond of sharing.
Without ever taking his sight off of you, he glowered dryly to an unidentified listener, “Why are they scratched up?” You see now the question is not for you, rather it's dedicated to the duo in charge of you. You peered down to see what he was referring to, only now understanding what he meant from the bruises beginning to bloom along your wrists and the miniscule scratches littering your forearms and neckline. None of them were deep enough to lance more than a couple drops of blood, but they were still oozing fresh from the night’s escapades.
“That wasn’t from us! The students were dragging them back-and-forth between the halls before the teachers got a hold of them. You know how rough kids are with their toys.” Hawks quickly presented to the man. Smooth as ever. He strolled over to Endeavor to lean his elbow against the man’s bulky side, as if casually resting against an alleyway’s grimy brick wall. Although, with how stocky the pro was, you’re sure the feeling was probably akin. You watched Endeavor roll his eyes at the blond.
“I’m sure hurling them through a window had nothing to do with the scratches.” Endeavor’s sarcasm hung heavy in the air like too much icing on a dry piece of cake. It was obvious that his comedic side hadn’t been brushed up on in awhile. He took the chance to use an unexpected gentleness to grasp your forearm and hold up the damaged skin to the duo as all the evidence he needed. You, not taking too kindly to being an item for presentation, pulled your arm away from him and held it close. Endeavor shot you a look of disappointment, but held in the trembling Armageddon he had planned. Hawks gave a weak chuckle, no doubt scrounging for a way to veer the conversation off them scaling the side of a building with you.
Endeavor decided to spare you for now, choosing to cross his arms and acknowledge only Hawks, “What’s their status? Who in the school is infected? How many are after them?”
You were starting to get sick of him completely ignoring the fact that you had your own voice to speak for your own wellbeing. “You know I can speak for myself, right? Or have you forgotten that since we last hung out.” Hawks shot you a look that yelled “shut up” like a parent two seconds away from scolding their child who is screaming in public. You didn’t cower. You pressed on to challenge Endeavor’s authority.
“I’m aware. But I understand if I speak to you, you’ll probably end up whining like a child to me. Wasting my time.” Endeavor threw no more than a half-hearted stern crinkle of his brows, and you pretty much could no longer hold back the bubbling anger swelling up in your chest.
“Excuse me! It’s not ‘whining’, it’s called ‘being a sane person with reasonable concerns’. Also, no shit I would complain! Your little underlings were literally just fighting over who was going to kidnap me! That is a perfect reason to yell.” You waltzed your way in front of him to be a human barrier to get in the way of his sight being fixated on Hawks. You will make yourself heard against this bully. Screw it if he trained you, you don’t just ignore someone you’re actively talking about when they are right in front of you! It’s incredibly rude.
“I don’t have time for this,” Endeavor rubbed temples with one hand. You wanted to rip his head off and shout from the rooftops into his eardrums. Maybe that would get your point through his thick skull.
“Wow. First of all, fuck you,” That certainly caught his attention. His head snapped to look down at your defiance. His eyes bore that same look he’d struck Mirko’s arm with before. Boiling hysteria and bitterness. Even though you physically felt the warmth of his internal temperature rise, and you recognized the panic Hawks held in his gob-smacked expression, you couldn’t stop your big mouth from prattling on. Shoto probably would have laughed his ass off at your opposition to his father. That small support in the back of your mind made your confidence soar.
“Second of all, you can’t seriously think that I am going to be chill with anything you wei—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence before you were all of the sudden no longer touching the roof. The collar of your shirt had been snatched by Endeavor’s strong hand with no warning and hoisted high. You were now dangling limply a few feet off the ground. Keigo was squawking figuratively and literally, yanking on Endeavor’s arm to lower the leverage he held your body at. Rumi took a turn for the worst. Threats cranked out of her mouth as she reared up to kick him as hard as she could square in an area where the sun didn't shine. Maybe give him a taste of his own brutality. With an unyielding and unforgiving hold, he lifted you even higher with no strenuous effort. You yelped, swinging and writhing around to try escaping the brute strength of your foe. He brought you in close to look at you eye-to-eye, making sure your darting gaze has nowhere to turn to other than locking in to meet his own icy pair.
“You will not speak to me like that again. Your attitude might be cute to the rest of these weak links, but I won’t let it go without correction. You show me respect, or we will both have to go through a punishment for you that neither of us will enjoy. This is your first and final warning.” Every word was uttered with nothing but truth. No twist of a joke in his tone, no shift in expression, nothing. Only a foreboding aura and the gravely tone that demanded full cooperation.
Every snappy response died on your tongue. You wanted to fight back, to sass all of them more, to tell him exactly what you thought of him to his stupid, scary face—but nothing came. You felt tears line your waterline, and you couldn’t despise them more. Crying when faced with any kind of opposition…what kind of hero does that make you? You couldn’t explain why your mind drifted to Midoriya in this moment when all hope was lost.
You suppose it’s because you recall a day when the boy had tried to deny his waterworks and his friends carried his tears with grace and love. Deku had been sent off to his work-study with the man he’d called ‘Sir Nighteye’. You didn’t know much about the man, in all honesty, but you did know that one of the strongest students at UA had been training underneath him for some time. The sweet boy named Mirio who had come to meet your class and then single handedly swept you all in a twenty-to-one match. He was quite impressive, so the fact that Midoriya had been taken on to work alongside him was quite the honor!
However, Midoriya came back rather…startled, to say the least. He hardly participated in conversations held around him, didn’t speak up during the lectures, and could barely choke down the food placed in front of him either. His eyes were clouded, a scrunched up twist pulled on his eyebrows like he was stuck in a maze of his own thoughts. He looked far into the distance yet couldn’t process what was in front of him. It was scary. Where did the boy always eager to learn and help everyone drift off to? You wanted him back.
The situation came to a head one day at lunch when you were sitting across from the green-haired boy, Iida, and Shoto. You’d all tucked into your meals when you noticed Midoriya had no intention of even attempting to stomach the spread. Shoto had shockingly tried to crack a very dry joke, and that seemed to wake the distant boy. After brushing off all of your concerns for the nth time, Iida finally challenged Deku’s false reassurance. He’d offered an ear to listen to the boy’s troubles. A simple gesture, most would assume, but it hit the boy hard. Midoriya had tried to keep it in, but the boy just couldn’t hold back his emotions—a fact of which you admired to this day. He tried to claim that heroes don’t cry while he actively swiped away the drips trailing from his evergreen eyes, but you watched as Iida and Shoto shut down that statement quickly. It’s such an easy thing to say but a hard skill to execute. Of course heroes cry! Anyone who doesn’t when facing the nightmarish terrors that they do on a daily basis is lying or too stone cold to be considered human.
You watched as the boys bonded over the spilt emotions and a grin overtook your face the entire rest of the day. No one at that table knew what Deku was going through with poor Eri and the vile Overhaul situation. You hadn’t a clue the true reason Iida had extended his hand to the shaken boy that day. But it didn’t matter. Izuku let his tears and strength glow bright that day. Tears are a symbol of actually giving a shit in this world. Tears you shed are the wordless tale you share with the world. Speaking a thousand words in all different orders. A labyrinth that can be solved or failed, depending on how your own soul understands the riddle. You’re still scouring that maze to comprehend your own salty snivels.
“Understood?” The three heroes stilled, waiting for your response. Wordlessly, you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling, looking away from the man to not give the satisfaction of his actions actually scaring you, and nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt of contempt and lowered you back down to the cement. Hawks flitted over to your side, checking you over. Mirko didn’t exactly come running to you but she did make a point of standing in between Endeavor and you.
“You’ll see why we must do this soon, (Y/N). This life is just too risky for someone like you,” he looked like he wanted to say more to you, but held his tongue. You wished he’d just crawl back to whatever shithole he climbed out of and fester there for the atrocious attempt at playing the “comforting” father role.
He meant it, you know. Enji sees you choose to not look beyond his past. Much like his sons. Not that he can blame any of you. But, for some reason, the abandonment of trust hurt more from you than it did Shoto.
Enji could tell you how many sidekicks he’s experienced come and go throughout his career. Does he remember the plebeians' names? No. Why should he? They left, so that must mean they didn’t meet his standards. No big deal, another will take their place eventually. It’s not his job to care about them or to remember them. However, he does remember you quite well. Truthfully, much to your surprise, before even your work-study together.
The first time he’d even sparred you a passing glance was during the Sports Festival in your first year. Truthfully, he didn’t give a single damn about any students in the arena other than his son. Enji really only went to see if Shoto would finally stop this little rebellion of his by only using that wretched ice his doe-eyed wife blessed their son with. He wanted to see Shoto crack under the pressure and give in—finally admit that the fire portion of his power was the stronger, more reliable half. He managed in his obsession to give some half-assed attention to the other one-on-one duels.
One of the fights he watched over was you against the ditzy girl from the Support Department, Mei something. Initially, he was going to walk away at such an uninteresting sounding fight, but he chose to linger. He saw you willingly agree to Mei flaunting her inventions to prospective buyers by using you as the demonstration device. You’d effortlessly almost danced around her gadgets’ tactics; playing the part of challenging foe, but never let her pin you in a dicey position. You’d ended the fight by running her off the boundary line before time ran out, and both of you shared a hug as you parted ways—both satisfied with you being the victor moving forward in the chain of fights and her having interested eyes witnessing her skill. Normally, a blatant show of mutual benefit would have him running for the hills. That wasn’t a fight, neither of you put any effort into crushing your opponent to a pulp, which is what a real show of power was to his image of winning. Yet, he stayed. Not to watch anything that pink girl offered, only examining you bounce around with both your own strength and the might of your quirk. He wanted you to slip up. He wanted you to make a mistake so he could justify ditching the patetic battle, but you never did. You stayed light on your feet and still struck at your opponent a few times to show examples of the defense her “babies” could provide to heroes.
Intriguing, is all he thought. He then stood and sauntered off until the second round.
The second round he watched Shoto, not as easily as he had hoped, defeat Midoriya. While he was filled with both gratification at Shoto caving into his carnal fire and enragement at that Izuku pest for giving his son the unwavering support to defy his hold over his son, he hardly realized your next battle had begun. It was against the vine girl from the Class B—first losers, rather, to him—Ibara. Unlike Mei’s challenge, you basically wiped the floor with the poor girl. You shot around the court, darting like a bat through an inky full-mooned sky, making sure to not give Ibara a chance to get the one up on you. You hardly let her breathe during the showdown, striking at her again and again from all angles. She was safe nowhere, even when hidden behind the viney defensive walls sprouting from her hair. You’d ended it neat and clean with a swift shot of your quirk, landing her out of the arena. Triumphant, you’d moved up again, but you still remained humble while helping Ibara off of the ground with a bright smile and gifted her a sincere handshake. You’d no doubt made a spectacle of yourself to the crowd and everyone watching at home, the loud cheer of encouragement erupting across the venue said just as much. Enji even hashed out a couple of light claps for your impressive display.
Your last battle was the nail in the coffin for Endeavor. You were finally fighting against his son. Of course, he was obviously rooting for Shoto to crush you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a nail-biting fight. He got just that. You two dove for each other—ice flung around the court in jagged peaks with you racing around the boy and firing off precisely aimed jabs of your own quirk. Blustering rushes of glacial wind flushed across the landscape. You two waltzed around in a deadly dance of effort and skill. You’d make sure Shoto knew that you weren’t to be cast aside like overlooked trash. You had grit, a will to make a name for yourself in the competitive world of heroes. You managed to last around two minutes in the ring together, which is phenomenal, considering his other battles didn’t last more than a handful of seconds. In the end, Shoto had been the victor when he caught you off guard by using his ice on the floor. He swiftly created a haphazard ice rink and slid you out of bounds. You were too exhausted from abusing your quirk so much that afternoon against your other opponents that you couldn’t stop your body from spinning out. Enji didn’t miss the way Shoto practically dashed over to your side, helped you stand up, and offered his arm for you to hold as you shakily shuffled off the slick floor to a safer spot.
Though you lost, he hadn’t forgotten how you gave his son a run for his money. You were very capable. Which is why he didn’t hesitate allowing you to become a work-study of his under the guise of helping you and your other friends out. This plan he has is not only for the benefit of his own gains, but for Shoto’s as well. He knows his son cares for you, but he has to help you see that after all of the Purge nonsense. You two would be perfect together—the perfect marriage of quirks. Of course, he tells himself that he’s not in this for the sole reason of having another powerful quirk added to his ranks. But it certainly helps him like you more.
You kept your eyes lowered, the lingering sting of defeat simmering behind your eyes and in your heart. You wanted to have an unwavering confidence like some of your classmates. You would never say this to Bakugou, but you truly did admire his “never back down” style. You had seen countless times how he barked in the faces of higher-ups, challenging their morals, their reasons for becoming heroes, and plans. It was as if he never agreed with anything they presented. The blond always had to shove his opinion into every decision made. You wanted to stare Endeavor straight in the eye as you stomped on his foot and make him see what you really thought of all their bullshit. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have it in you to ignore his authority. Guess that’s why you’re still stuck up here on this stupid roof with people you don’t want to be around, huh?
Hawks brushed back your hair, trying to examine your face for distress or injury, but all he could see was you not meeting his gaze. He wants to tell you he knows firsthand how hard this decision is—hell, even he has doubts relying on Endeavor and Mirko. He wants to say he’d be able to make this escape on his own with you. Hide you away alone so no one else has any clue where you are. That sounds like paradise to him. Alas, with so many high profiles after you now, there isn’t a chance of him making it out with his head. If he broke the agreement he resentfully made with the two, then others would certainly turn against him.
Later. He’ll strike later. Don’t you see? That’s why he’s playing the perfect little stepping stool. No one deserves you but him—not even his idol. His hero. He’ll make sure you know that too by the end of this night. Only a little longer of bearing the pretending and game of dress up, then he’ll slip away with you in tow.
“Hawks.” You heard Endeavor call out for the winged man. Daddy’s calling.
Hawks tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his amber glow, and offered a caring smile. He hoped you could see the promise behind his eyes. The disgust masked behind a beaming smile was perfected for meeting delusional strangers and other worthless heroes. He gave Endeavor that smile, but not to you. You hoped the scowl you shot ripped his lungs out and left them rotting in a pile of maggot-riddled filth. How dare he give you such a carefree look after telling you he was going to steal away your entire life.
After Hawks walked over to converse with Endeavor, Mirko closed in. Not much was said between you two, but she did bump her hip against yours to knock you out of your own head. You turned to give her an offensive side eye, but she only fronted an unbothered look. You went to ignore her again, turning to face towards the men. However, you didn’t get far as she decided to make her personal mission to annoy you. You felt a gentle poke into your side, ticklish and fleeting. You jumped, falling for the trap and glaring at her again. This time, she had a mild grin on her face. It was obvious your displeasure fueled her joy.
“You’re cute when you’re trying to look mad,” she snorted, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t stop looking at you, and you saw her stare through your peripheral.
You scoffed, “Trying?” You faced forward to deny her yearning for your gaze.
“Of course. I’ve seen mad before, and you’re not at that level. You’re just…peeved. Disgruntled. Ew, no, that word is too ugly to describe you.” Mirko shook her head and stuck her tongue out at the mention of the synonym. You took a deep breath and settled in to focus on the men discussing back and forth.
She circled you like a shark lunging on for her prey, but you simply turned your head the opposite direction of where she was to avoid the confrontation.
“Where you going, grumpy~?” Mirko easily caught on to your aversion. You noticed how her grin truly did resemble something shark-like. The thought crossed your mind if she was really half-bunny, or actually some predator in disguise masking the innocence of a rabbit. A wolf in sheep’s clothing
“I’m actually very interested in that bird over there. Would you look at that, it’s pretty far away.” You apathetically mused at the distant dot in the sky. You brushed her prodding away to daze off into the horizon, Mirko’s words slowly being tossed into the heaping bin of memories you wouldn’t document in your brain. Gazing across the landscape of the dark treeline surrounding UA and the few standing buildings nearby, your eyes scanning the moonlit metal of the nearby rooftops. But something else glistening on the roof caught your eye too. Something moving.
You watched it shift and reflect the moon’s rays from across the neighboring rooftop. You squinted, trying to catch exactly what was skulking around in the dark, but it strayed just beyond your sight. Whatever it was, it wanted to stay hidden.
“Absolutely not.” Endeavor’s thunderous voice startled you from your scouting. Hawks turned his head to see if you had noticed the man’s tantrum—no shit you’d notice that barbaric yell from the brute—and, in seeing your alarm, sighed. He scooted closer to the mammoth of a man, turning his back to you. You strained your ears to hear the mumbling.
“You don’t have to tell me it’s not ideal—I know that—but what other choice do you think we have?” Was all you could hear before Hawks’ voice became too faint to make out comprehensible words.
You then remembered your little “friend” in the shadows. You shot your head back to its previous position to confront the adversary. Nothing. You searched and searched the silent building, but nothing. You wanted to tell yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks in the dark, but on tonight of all nights, you knew better than to downplay your concern.
Finally acknowledging Mirko, you questioned her, “Do you see anything on that roof over there?”
She gave you an unimpressed deadpan, “Seriously? You're trying the ‘oh my gosh, what’s that over there!’ trick?”
“Wha—no!” You looked offended, but you felt a cold sweat on the side of your forehead. Inside, you knew you’d probably have tried that trick sooner rather than later, and you've got to hand it to her. She knows you well.
Before you could try to explain your reasoning, a raging flame shot to strike Hawks and Endeavor.
Miraculously, Hawks’ reflexes were quick enough to shove Endeavor and himself out of the way of the surprise attack before someone was set ablaze. The smell of burning hair permeated the area although, and you looked over to catch a glimpse of a portion of Hawks’ right wing being singed into charred black wisps. Mirko reacted nearly faster than Hawks did, grabbing your waist and maneuvering you back from the fire. It was you and Mirko parted from Hawks and Endeavor far on the opposite side of the roof.
“What the hell?” Mirko grit her teeth at the attack. Psychos getting in the way of her time with you, what a joke. Such a waste of time. She just wants to run off and find somewhere to keep you for the rest of the Purge, yet these shitty obstacles just can’t seem to get enough of you. She was going to rip them limb from limb for taking her attention off of you.
You stood with no complaint in her arms, not minding her taking the lead of your protection. You still couldn’t see who caused the disruption, but you would soon wonder no longer.
“You’re slow today, Endeavor. What? Off your game or something?” A seedy voice echoed across the way. Male, deep, commanding. You watched as the foe came to stand at the edge of the railing. Your eyes dilated at the sight. Your breath caught in your throat. You’d only cared to remember this man as the one who, with the rest of his party, ruined your training camp over the summer and kidnapped your classmate, Bakugou.
You’re shot into the past as you recount that horrible night. It had been such a great start to the day. You’d been working hard with all of your friends, aiming to better improve the longevity and resilience of all your quirks. You’d nearly tuckered yourselves out when the hero Pixie-Bob said you all had one more challenge to face before bed. The Test of Courage. It began as traditionally as any silly game teenagers played in the dark did. Then it all came crashing down at the faint, then quickly overwhelming, scent of smoke. You remember being there in that midnight-black forest, you remembered how excited you’d been at the started of that stupid game you’d agreed to play, you remember the fire that infested the trees and burnt the pretty flowers and bushes to wisps of charcoal ash, you remembered the terror and fear of being lost in said woods before Deku found you wandering alone. You remember locking eyes with the man who stoked the fires. A spearing turquoise. You’d seen a blue so vibrant like that only once before. You’d found that hypnotic color in Shoto’s left eye. Though, Shoto was a much kinder soul than the monster these captivating eyes were attached to.
In the present, you’re wrung back into that same terror as you watched his black leather trench coat gently sway in the breeze, a glinting bicep catching your eye. The metal cuffs shone from the full light of the moon along with the many staples running up and down the sleeves. He was too far away to discern an exact facial expression, but you could blatantly see the large patch of marred, burned flesh dominating the lower half of his face. The leathery substance was roughly connected to what remained of his skin untouched by flame, stitched up with bloody staples. The way it was sutured made his face forever appear as if strung upwards to mimic a sickening Cheshire grin. You wanted to say he was only generally looking around the roof, but you knew better. The villain was practically drilling daggers into you with how much he was staring. No, you couldn’t just say he was any old random villain; you knew his name. Dabi.
More bodies moved out from behind him to occupy the opposing roof. All you heard from them was laughter and unflattering comments nagged at the pro heroes.
“Wow, they’re even cuter this close~! Much better than in the crappy photos you guys took, Shiggy~,” A much higher pitched voice exhaled in an almost loving sigh. Their blonde hair was cinched up in two tangled space buns, but the mess was an intentional look. The loose strands were slicked into spikes. Cutesy and feminine, a happy aura surrounded her, but you knew better. She draped herself over the railing as if in her own ditzy world. You would have believed it was a fainting couch with how dramatically she had laid over the scenery. Much like Dabi, the girl couldn’t take her gaze off of you, but she made her presence known.
“Hiiii, (N/N)~~! Are the big, scary pro heroes getting in the way again? Don’t worry, cutie! I’ll take care of ‘em, hehe~!” Himiko Toga, you believe that’s what Aizawa said her name was, called out to you like she was the Romeo to your Juilet. You’re sure she believed that too. You’d heard Ochaco talk about her to you guys after the training camp. She told you about how the girl tackled Tsuyu and used these specialized needles to draw out blood from her victims. Uraraka experienced the threat head on as the girl had jammed one of her needles straight into her thigh with little apprehension.
Uraraka told you how obsessed the girl was with blood, a crazed look in her eye when the red substance came about. She said she loved her, loved her so much that she wanted to turn into her! Deku even chimed in and said the girl shouted to him delusional fantasies of wanting him to be her boyfriend. At the time, all you could do was shiver and brush off the fear the conversation brought by claiming she was “just another crazed lunatic”. Well, now that the girl is staring you down with her own redden irises, you felt your tongue shrivel up in your throat.
“Bloodied and carved up is the only way any of these nobody pro heroes could ever look cute. Though, the one daring to hold onto my darling definitely won’t be leaving here alive.” She sneered, completely flipping her personality into one of seething hate and disgust when she gazed upon Mirko. Toga’s rage could be felt from a mile away, and you felt Mirko hold onto you tighter.
“Toga, knock it off,” the green lizard man with the draping red scarf hollered at her, “we’ve got a job to do.” Though it was hard to see, you noticed the way his eyes would drift to you and quickly look away. Like he was nervous. Shy? The large clump of weapons taped and glued together as his arsenal seemed deadly but ineffective all in one. However, he moved rather quickly on his feet despite the added weight.
“Wow, such a beauty! Ugh, what an attention-seeker!” The same voice shouted two opposing sentences from across the way. You looked over and saw a man wearing a black and gray spandex suit, clutching the railing while waving his arm around. After yelling, it looked like one of his arms had a mind of its own as it grabbed his neck. It appeared to be he was trying to strangle himself with one hand, while the other hand sprung into action to stop the strangling. It was an odd battle of each arm trying to wrestle each other, as his head kept whipping back and forth shouting insults at…himself? You’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but you hope he won’t start to try injuring himself with weapons next.
“Hmm, I agree with your first sentence, Twice. Do try to not scare our guest away so soon.” A regal tone stood out through the other members’ silliness. You wonder how much backup did these guys bring as a tall figure in a creamsicle colored jacket walked to the edge of the railing. His height was enhanced with a dark brown top hat he donned and the fancy cane held at his side. The most notable feature of his was the mask he hid behind. Marble man. You couldn’t remember his name, but you certainly remembered the way he trapped Tokoyami and Bakugou when he tried to run away with them in his grasp. You felt bubbling heat rise in your chest. Betrayal and resentment all wrapped into one swirl of hurt leaving a suffocating dead weight on your chest.
“Dabi, keep your shit under control or go back to the base. Get your asses moving. We’re here to take and leave, so don’t fuck this up for me.” An unseen voice was heard from further back on the roof. However, whoever it was got the lot of them hurrying off. Groaned complaints and witty remarks were heard, mostly from the black-haired male, but they soon fizzled out. You kept looking for where they were going, but soon you couldn’t see anyone anymore. It was silent yet again.
“Sorry, darling, but we don’t have time to stay and find out what happens next.” That is all Mirko said to you before she bent down to pull you up into her arms. Though, she didn’t move that far.
“MIRKO, BEHIND!” You heard Endeavor yell out to the woman in concern. You heard it before you saw it. A goopy, unnatural, burbling sound came from behind your form. You didn’t have a chance to turn around before a platform leather boot kicked Mirko’s crouched body away with little effort. She skidded across the cement, nearly all the way back to where Hawks and Endeavor were standing. You wanted to call out for her, ask if she was okay. As much as you’d felt unapologetic rage for how they’d decided to take your life away from you, you still cared about them. You probably gave them too much of your heart, but they’re still your mentors. The people you've looked up to for years in your training to become a hero. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, as much as you’d begged for it in your mind tonight. Not with the threat of the League of Villains being what you’d have to face on your own.
You heard a sinister giggle from over your shoulder, and felt a calloused hand grasp your shoulder. Without warning, the memories you’d vaulted away with lock and key of the horrible training camp incident came flooding back with greater force than before.
That night, Izuku had found you. Tears dripped down your face as you hacked up a lung from the smoke in the air. If he’d found you any later, you’d probably have been passed out from the lack of oxygen. You ran alongside him, trying to find your way back to the rest of the class, toward any sign of a familiar face. After fleeing, you’d soon found the little boy who originally came with the Wild Wild Pussycats, Kota, with a villain in tow. Deku fought against the mammoth of a man who went by Muscular while you protected Kota from the falling rubble and terrain. After nearly getting thrown a million miles away, Izuku finally got the upperhand on the man, and knocked out the behemoth villain. You fled into the forest again, and after dropping Kota off with Mr. Aizawa and fending off Spinner to save Mandalay, you soon find Shoji and Tokoyami. However, Tokoyami could have been in better shape, as he was now overtaken by Dark Shadow’s power. Shoji explained that he and Tokoyami were attacked by a villain named Moonfish, which resulted in Tokoyami trying to use Dark Shadow to protect them, but Dark Shadow’s desire to take the reins was too great. Dark Shadow was destroying the forest in their rage, but Izuku was quick on his feet to think of using Dark Shadow to your advantage to help protect Bakugou from the villains as well.
You three lead Dark Shadow through the woods, and end up running into Bakugou and Todoroki who are facing off against the villain who tried to attack Shoji and Tokoyami before. Dark Shadow descended and made easy work of clobbering Moonfish, and the boys used their fiery quirks to release Tokoyami from Dark Shadow’s control. All of you hurried off in the direction of the facility, running into Tsuyu and Ochaco who’d been fighting off Himiko before she fled, and your large group prepared to get back safely as “Bakugou Protection Squad”. You didn’t get far as you finally noticed that Bakugou and Tokoyami were missing. The marble guy revealed himself and the League’s plan to take the boys hostage. He flew off, but the girls helped you, Shoto, Shoji, and Izuku fly to catch up to the villain.
You tackled Compress out of the sky, and fended off Twice alongside Shoto when the League fought against you. As you tried to run off as Shoji had yelled for you and Shoto to do, the warp user, Kurogiri, had stopped your escape. When Compress had shown the marbles of your friends being trapped, you saw red. You couldn’t let them be taken, you just couldn’t. It was the miracle that Aoyama’s precise shot of his Naval Laser to Compress’ face that gave you the chance you needed to save the boys.
Shoji had successfully nabbed Tokoyami’s marble, and now it was up to Shoto and you grab Bakugou’s. You were so close, just inches away, before he was ripped from you again. It was the scarred hands of the fire user that flooded your vision. You fell to the ground, empty-handed and desperately looking up at the man searching for any weakness in his grasp to steal the tiny blue-tinted glass ball from him. But it was too late.
It was an extra bit of torture—one that Dabi made sure you guys knew was on purpose—to release Bakugou from the marble so he could watch your failure. You saw the fear swimming in his red irises as he looked at you, the stiffness in his stance, the slight shake of his hands. He looked so…helpless. You’d never seen the boy in such a state of despair before. It was haunting. You stood on shaky fawn-like legs, ready to tear that villain apart with your bare hands, no Quirk needed. You wanted to make him pay for the suffering he put not only your class, but what he put everyone at the camp through tonight. But you were stopped with a gentle embrace.
Shoto had looped his arms around your midsection in a cage. You twisted back to yell at him to let you go, to let you save your friend, but his gaze gave his answer to your plea. He knew you couldn’t win. One eye filled with a harsh, cold steel of an unforgiving bind and the other swimming with a depth that rivaled even the ocean’s own fullness, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You thrashed and screamed against Shoto, not believing you wouldn’t come out victorious in this suicide mission. You unconsciously looked at Bakugou for aid, and it was a cruel reminder that he could save you no more. Both of you being held against your will, both of you screaming for help—one screaming bloody murder, one silent as a moonless night. The savior trying to go where the victim was being taken, but the victim commanding them to stay behind.
You’ll never forget the emptiness after Bakugou was fully snatched through the portal. You’ll never forget collapsing to the dirt beside Deku, Shoto’s arm still chained tightly around your middle, and wailing your heart out.
You’ll never forgive the satisfied gleam in that evil man’s eye. Never.
Except it wasn’t Dabi’s hand this time. You looked at the pale flesh, graying and roughed from years of neglect and self hate. The fingernails were chipped and appeared to be chewed with anxiety-ridden coping. Beneath the nails looked like they’d been clawing at a cement wall, dried blood caked underneath the unmanicured bits. The twitching pinky finger dangling frivolously above the target of your shoulder made your blood run cold.
“Miss me?” Tomura Shigaraki mumbled into your ear with a snarl. You’re sure you were shaking, but you couldn’t feel anything other than the stuttery breaths you took in and out. You could only focus on the lone finger judging the worth of your entire life. One movement too erratic and you’re nothing more than a pile of ash sitting in his rotten hands. You saw Endeavor’s mouth moving, he was definitely addressing the villain, but neither of you were paying attention to the fuming man.
“Staying to chat would be fun, but I think I’ll let them do the talking for me. I would rather spend my breath talking to (Y/N) than you losers.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. He guided you to step aside, and you reluctantly shifted. A sloshing sounded as Kurogiri’s portal grew to be much larger. Once the portal stretched high enough, a figure swished through. They shouldn’t be here. How can they get onto UA’s premises? Doesn’t this place have some kind of security measure to protect the kids, damnit?!
As if he could read your mind, he chuckled to himself, “So nice that UA’s defenses are down for the Purge. So much easier to ransack this place when I can toss a couple of these guys onto the front lawn. Makes this boss fight a clean sweep.” Out from the portal stepped a massive monster you’d come to know as one of Shigaraki’s playthings, a Nomu.
You’d seen a couple before, namely at the USJ when All Might defeated the beast nearly single-handedly and during the time you saved Bakugou from the League and All for One, but you had never been so close that you could reach out and touch it. As it lumbered past you, you could almost taste the horrifying aura it carried. The violence just itching to break out of its skin. Its body was barely keeping the violence it desires at bay. It was easy to tell how badly the creature wanted to claw the heroes to shreds, the short gasp-like breaths it took, and the stomach-turning visual of its exposed brain and nerve endings. Its unblinking eyes held no emotion. No malice, no joy. Nothing. You’d think it was an impressively realistic Halloween animatronic if it hadn’t just shambled past you.
Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any better, a second one appeared from beyond the portal. A carbon-copy of the first, just as horrifying, just as deadly. Then a third. Three of those monstrosities stood in front of you like an impenetrable wall. The barrier of such an evil force left you feeling light headed. This can’t be happening.
“Have fun, heroes! Don’t come looking for them, unless you’re looking to free up some space on the Hero Billboard Chart. Would be a shame if some of Japan’s finest didn’t make it through the Purge, huh?” Shigaraki called out to them with a scratchy cackle. You watched the three pros prep their Quirks and bodies for the fight to come, you then heard banging from the doors of the rooftop. The doors must have been locked as you heard a hell of a ruckus behind it. Though it was a multitude of voices, deep and high pitched, and lots of them. You wondered who it could be. Your teachers? Had they chased after the pros and were intent on winning you back? Or could it be…
Oh no.
Wait. They shouldn't come up here. Please. Not with these things here, not now. The Nomus had no remorse, no moral compass. They’d kill your classmates right where they stood.
“No…wait, my friends are still here. Please—,” this was the only sliver of argument that you posed against Shigaraki, with a shaking lip and a strip of silver tears lining your lower lash line. He revealed in your fear to oppose him.
“Really? Hmm. Perfect.” Shigaraki smiled a repulsive grin at you, his wrinkled red and slightly pink eyes filled with more bloodlust than you’ve known before. He began pulling you back by the shoulder, but you chose to fight. Yanking yourself forward before a different set of hands gripped your arms, your other shoulder, and your waist. You wrung your body left and right, and you felt closer to Bakugou than you ever have before. Trapped and alone, with no foreseeable aid.
Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.
Slimy drool dripped from the blood-thirst Nomus’ mouths onto the cement floor. Frothed mouths itching to latch onto body parts and tear them off.
Hawks, Mirko, and Endeavor had looks of pure panic as they could only watch you getting dragged away. Not because of the threat of the Nomus, but because they were losing you yet again.
Your screams for mercy were only acknowledged by a calloused grasp, minus the pinky, clamping over your mouth.
And just like that, you were gone.
~ To Be Continued… ~
Far away from the light of the outside world, a dark figure resided in the shadows. A large television took up nearly the entire landscape of their wall, illuminating their body with its harsh glow. A smirk lined their lips, entertained with the events unfolding on that fateful rooftop. Multiple cameras showed all angles of the fight, of their disobedience, of their foolishness.
Not you! Heavens no, not you! Never you. You were perfect, always. Always the perfect little damsel in distress. Always the most entertaining morsel. Delicate and bold at the same time. A real palette cleanser from all the other despicable acts they’ve seen before. They’ve had a lifetime and then some to experience the tiresome, dreadfully boring reality they’ve come to unwilling terms with. However, you certainly add a wonderful zing of sweetness and spice to the otherwise flavorless mush they’ve known life to taste like. They want more.
They watched the despair fill your mind, how distraught you became over the mess they’d created. They saw your beautiful eyes, so teary and wide. So much innocence and hope for this crumbling world held inside them.
They stood, brushing off the dust from their clothes, and walked towards the door that caged them inside. Oh, how wonderful it will be to meet you again. Properly, this time.
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bbyquokka · 12 days
Text
blow me instead?
– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt
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pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader
genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!
cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating
words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !
notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3
dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.
maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.
you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.
it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.
it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.
you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.
“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle. 
you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.
“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!” 
you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,  but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.
the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.
pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away. 
you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.
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you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.
'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.
“felix, i–”
“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.
he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.
“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.
“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.
“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.
“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.” 
your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.
“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”
“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.
“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”
“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.
felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.
he's undressing you with his eyes. 
you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.
“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.
felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.
“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?” 
goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising
“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression. 
“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.” 
“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.
felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.
you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms. 
he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.
“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”
you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.
you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.
you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.
you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.
“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.
you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.
you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.
you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.
you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.
“harder.”
you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.
you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.
he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own. 
“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.
“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.
the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.
he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.
you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.
you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.
felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.
you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.
your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.
the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.
you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.
you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.
your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.
“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.” 
you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.
the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.
you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.
felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times. 
you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.
he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.
“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.
you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.
“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…” 
this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.
you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers. 
your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.
you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.
his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing. 
“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth. 
he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.
felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away. 
you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.
“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.
“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.
“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”
“true… so, what do you want?” 
felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.
“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.
“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”
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asocialangel · 4 months
Text
soulmate give away
What made the bllk boys realize you might be their soulmate. 
Do you believe in soulmates ? To be fair, sometimes, some signs can be considered as dead giveaways that you and he are meant to be. 
super shorts hc, gender neutral with isagi, kurona, shidou, rin, kaiser and barou. fluffy ig ? Part two with reo, chigiri, sae, kunigami, bachira and nagi !!
Isagi: You reached for the same ice lollie flavor at the same time. The weird, grandpa, unpopular flavor mind you. He thought that if one person had to have the same quirky preferences as he did, it had to be his other half. 
Kurona: You had the same childhood plushie as he did, but it’s not a popular brand, so he found it scary, he definitely thought this was a sign from the universe that the two of you were meant to be.
Shidou: You always say the same things as he does at the same time as he does. Obviously it happens often. But with the two of you ? It happens a LOT and for precise things and it’s not even like you spend too much time with each other… It’s almost freaky. 
Rin: You have the other half of a very curious rock he found once. He picked it up because it was really pretty and appealing somehow, only to find out that you have basically its other half, or at least a rock that looks suspiciously similar to his and fits perfectly in. 
Kaiser: You are physically connected to him. As in, you make the same movements at the same time, look aways at the same time, blink in synchronicity… Maybe it's because you and him were made from the same star.
Barou: You appeared in a photo he took years ago. When he was in Tokyo, he took a pic at the red Eiffel tower thing, and there you were in the background, back when you didn't know each other and didn't even live in the same city. Imagine how shocked he was to realize you had crossed paths so many years before.
pfff i wish i was consistent with my writing but i hope i make at least another human being happy with this post... Anyway read blue lock. It was quick to write which i like, giving me a break from a bigger isagi writing that i'll post soon >v<
This isn't that good but if you wish me to do specific characters, i'll do it with pleasure !
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pomefioredove · 5 months
Note
You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!
this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!
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summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god
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"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.
He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.
He's supposed to be an actor, after all.
That's what this is all about.
"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."
Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.
Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.
What a bitter sentiment.
"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"
A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.
His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"
A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.
He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.
You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.
You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.
It hurts.
Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?
There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.
This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.
And you'd always known it.
---
How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?
Short answer: you can't.
You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.
Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.
On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.
Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.
People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?
It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.
Even Grim was keeping his distance.
What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...
You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.
"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."
He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.
Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."
"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."
You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"
"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."
Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.
"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.
"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"
Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"
"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.
"We didn't mean-"
"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.
"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."
---
There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.
Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.
It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.
But, not today.
You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.
You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.
You, however, are the only one in the room.
"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.
Beautiful,
A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.
Yours truly.
"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.
"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.
He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"
You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.
"But what-"
"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."
Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.
"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.
"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."
You can only stare back. "Rook..."
"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"
You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...
He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.
If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.
You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"
Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.
"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"
---
Pomefiore is beautiful again.
There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.
He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.
You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.
Perhaps it's for the better.
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
Text
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on deaths door | s. gojo
✮ tags ; dark content ahead, afab + gender neutral reader, dark comedy / black comedy, attempts of suicide, the use of the word rapist in text, mentions of self-harm scars, penetration, intense but not rough, gojo is doting, no curses au, ceo!gojo 18+
note: this fic is mostly intended to be a dark comedy and have an unserious nature. it is very absurdist and it makes light of both suicide and assault. please proceed carefully if you find this might be triggering to you.
PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.
✮ wc ; 2.6k
✮ a/n ; i actually really really enjoyed writing this and would love to expand on it potentially. KJSDFJSKD.
reader has been through a lot so they are super nonchalant about everything just as a precaution
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"Uwah," A voice startles you from your place on the roof. You gasp, amidst tears and sobs from shock. "Are you about to kill yourself?"
You whip your head around to see who could be beside you at this hour. It's a deliberately obscure location, too so it's extra weird. You were hoping to die in peace in a place where it'd be hard to find you, after all.
But there's a strange man interrupting your plans. Very strange. He's speaking Japanese rather clearly but his hair is a shock of white and his eyes are blues as saphhires. Despite the situation, his voice is light and cheerful - almost amused.
You can't tell if he's just a figment of your imagination. He's so unusual it stuns you out of your tears. You can't find your voice to respond for a moment.
"Yes," You reply, unsure of what else to say. He smiles at you.
"Hm." He looks contemplative. "Well... if you don't want it, can I have it?"
You stare on, confused.
He grins. "Your life, I mean. Can I buy it off you?"
Starting to wonder if you've already died, you stretch your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face just to see if any of it is real. The touch makes it gasp. You're definitely still alive. So, that means this strange man is also real and asking to buy your life.
"What?"
"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a cheapskate or anything, the price will be fair." He walks closer to you from where you've been standing all this time. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, picking you up and setting you down further away from the ledge with a harsh yank.
Like a kitten whose mother is dragging it by the nape, you fumble onto the rooftop concrete. As soon as you're moved, you drop down to your knees - unable to find anymore strength.
"Are you... trying to traffick me?" Your voice is coarse in your reply as you stare up. It's a genuine question. You aren't sure what else to call this. The strange, unusual man just laughs in your face.
"Mm, well - not really. Though, if you say yes I'll make good use of you in all ways." The last part makes your skin crawl a little. "You were weeping so pitifully when I came up here... super pathetic. I just thought it'd be a waste if you died since I got to see something interesting."
There's something really wrong with this guy, you think. But this is such a common thing in your life, you aren't sure how shocked you should be.
There's also something equally wrong with you, because you're so fucked up - you're considering it. If he paid you enough to cover all of your debts, you could cut ties with all the bullshit your fathers debt has put you through. You could run away. Not there's anywhere for you, even after that. But at least you'd be unshackled from what makes you most miserable.
You don't want your life, but if this guy wants it so bad then...
"...How much will you pay me?"
His eyes light up when you ask this and it unsettles you further. "As much as you want. And you'd have to live with me at my beck and call."
"Like a pet." You reply easily.
Instead of denying it, he snaps his fingers and grins. "Exactly! Or maybe more like a plush toy that I take every where?"
Either way, you're not any kind of human. You're barely human now though with how much you work, so you aren't sure it makes a difference. You stare at him. And he looks back at you with a smile - all pearly white pristine teeth.
Who cares anymore, anyway? Even if he were to mistreat you, you're not sure you'd even feel it. It's all numb. He can have your life if it means you can escape what you're running from.
He looks rich, so maybe.
"Don't worry," He hums, and he reaches over to pat your head while your face is covered in tears. You don't flinch for some reason. "I don't like breaking things I've bought unnecessarily."
Something is wrong with you. Your self preservation is in total fucking tatters. But still, you want to say so you do. Maybe it's the absurdity, or the fact you truly don't have anything to lose. Nothing could make your misfortune any worse.
You sniffle and shake your head. He's dangerous and weird, but at least you could pay off your debts.
"Okay," You say weakly.
His smile gets impossibly wide.
You're wonder if you'll regret your decision.
__
He's filthy rich.
You should've expected that. You did, kinda. Because only rich people would think to do or ask something so absurd like ask to buy another persons life. Still, he had a driver waiting for him downstairs and his car is definitely a sports care. A McLaren, you think. One of the places you catered for ages ago was full of rich people with flashy cars and you remembered some of them.
He sits with you uncomfortably close in the back seat but doesn't speak to you at all during the ride. Not until you arrive at the destination, which is a giant building where the strange man certainly lives.
The driver (named Ichiji) calls the strange man Gojo-sama, which makes you feel extremely on edge. They whisper about something when you're out of ear shot, and Ichiji gives you a sorrowful look that you can't place.
The name Gojo is familiar to you, but you aren't sure where you've heard it.
After taking a long elevator ride to one of the upper floors, you end up in the strange mans condo. When you get there, he tells you take off your shoes and gives you nice slippers.
"Welcome to my humble abode," He says, still frivolous and speaking to you in what feels like a foreign tongue. "And also yours. I'll set you up in the guest room later, but you'll be keeping my bed warm mostly so keep that in mind."
The size of the place is absurd and so is the decor. What have you gotten yourself into? You must've gone insane. You're too afraid to touch anything.
"Am I like... a sex slave?" You ask curiously.
He frowns at you. "You make me sound like some kind of rapist. I guess now that I own you....it might make me one... but you agreed to come here so don't be like that!!" He huffs, childishly.
His response is somewhat incomprehensible to you. He's stranger by the minute and completely tactless - but for some reason, it's hard to distrust him. He doesn't raise any immediate red flags aside from being unusual.
You almost want to say it wouldn't matter if he was, as long as he pays you but decide not too.
"Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off?" You reply, nonchalant. He stares at you.
"...I know your heads pretty fucked up, but don't you think you're being too blase about all this?"
Your brow furrows. A weird response for a guy who willingly understands this is a less than ethical situation "Would... you prefer I struggle and refuse you? Is that your fetish?"
"No! Well..." You look at him flatly as he thinks on it, almost blushing at the thought. You make a face of disgust "Not in this case, alright! It's just too pitiful and I'm not that type really.... Be more cautious."
"But you were planning to fuck me from the start, right? Or something."
He nods. "Well, yes. As a way to earn your living and for me get my urges out whenever. Finding people to have sex with is a hassle."
You shrug.
"Right. I can cook and clean too. I've done pretty much every job you can think of it,"
He waves a hand at you. "We can discuss it later." He puts a hand in his necktie and pulls on with a small smile. "Right now, I want to test out my new toy so..."
You should feel more disgusted by how he refers to you, but you don't have it in yourself.
"Can I shower first?"
He looks surprised but nods. "Uh-huh. Just wear one of my shirts when you come out. Everything else is in the bathroom. It's upstairs, first door on your left."
You stand to your feet, nodding.
__
It takes you ten minutes to figure out how the shower works.
His shower is nice. The whole place is nice. Nicer than any shithole you've ever lived in. He has a lot of nice bath products, though you aren't sure how you feel about smelling like him since you're borrowing his.
You examine your body a bit in the shower, looking at old scars as you wash and rub yourself clean. Thankfully, you gave yourself a trim downstairs not long ago.
It's embarrassing in retrospect but you've not had much of a choice in the first place. You're sensitive, unsure of the last time you've touched yourself given how much you work. You think of your job and feel guilty for how you're going to miss it. But you recall that you were preparing to die not even two hours ago and feel less bad.
You whimper a little as you finger yourself open under the water - getting wet easier than you thought. You have to lean against the wall, but with enough coaxing you get three fingers in. You're still horny when you shut the water off and step out.
You dry yourself and put on lotion - staring in the mirror. As told you borrow one of his shirts, but it's too big on you and you can see your nipples too clearly which makes you embarrassed.
You reason you're about to go fuck a stranger anyway, and decide to step out right after.
__
You decide against wearing underwear since his shirt fits on you like a dress, but regret when you come back down stairs feeling aware of the breeze on your went cunt.
He's sitting on the couch with his legs spread, dress shirt unbuttoned but still in his clothes. He hears you before he sees you, eyes widening. You suddenly get self-conscious under the weight of his stare.
"Better than I thought," Is his only assessment. Your skin grows hot.
He beckons you over to him and you go, unsure of what to do until he pulls you into his lap. Forcing you to straddle him, he wastes no time in feeling you up. His hands at your waist and chest. His face lights up in pure amusement when he sees you bare underneath.
He stares at your pussy for a long time.
"It's good," He hums, his hands brushing against it. Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal, a pathetic moan leaving your lips that makes him laugh. "Pretty."
You don't have anything to say to that so you keep quiet. Gojo slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt to asses your wetness, surprised surely by how wet it is. Without warning, he plunges a finger in. He looks up at your face, your hand covering your mouth so you don't moan.
"So wet," His voice can't contain his amusement. "What's this?"
"I was," You shiver half-way through as he plunges in another finger and it goes in smoothly. "I p-prepared in the shower and masturbated. I thought you'd just want to stick it in and I didn't want it to hurt.
"Haah," His voice is sharp, suddenly breathy. Something hard and big presses up against your leg. "You're talented in seducing me. I'm not so ungentlemanly, but I'll let it go this time, alright?"
You nod. He uses a sticky hand to unbutton his slacks and push his boxers away. You gasp at the size of his cock. You're not a virgin exactly, but you haven't had sex with anyone this big ever. He chuckles a little, pressing the head of his cock against your stomach and cunt as if measuring it up to you.
More wetness pulses, shame filling you - because you're almost excited to be fucking this strange man you've only met today. Weirdly, you don't feel unsafe around him. Your eyes glass over from lust.
He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you suck automatically, instinctively. His smile is predatory all of a sudden, teeth glimmering.
"So obedient," He says, sharply. "Ah, I have a good eye. It really would've been such a waste."
You're content to throw yourself at him, chasing the pleasure. His fingers taste of salt and skin, making you want something else entirely. It's not long before he pulls away though, wrapping his hand around his shaft and making it shiny. You blink down at where he fists his cock - your spine tingling at the sight.
"Look at you," He mutters, amused. "Do you always get this excited? Is it normal for you to fuck strange men or am I special?"
You shake your head. "It's only been two people."
"Then I am special," He replies. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing against your hole - fluttering. "We have good compatibility."
Before you can say a word, you feel his length push inside of you in one swift motion and gasp. It's so big, so impossibly big - and even with how much you stretched, there's a touch of resistance that's making your entire lower half feel like it's jelly. Almost numb from the sensation. Buzzing from adrenaline and want.
You feel full. In your stomach, in your chest - your whole body feel complete. When you manage to open your eyes, you look at Gojo and find yourself taken aback. His hair is pushed back from his hand and he looks... different. He's handsome now that you realize. His face looks...pleased.
You talk before you can think about it.
"Do I feel good?"
He laughs sweetly, before pressing a kiss to your temple that feels to affectionate for people who barely know each other.
"Uh-huh," He says. His hands are strong, tight on your ass as he bucks up into you - causing you to collapse forward. The pleasure makes you shake, sensitivity through the roof. "Feel so good. Hahaha, how lucky."
You cling onto Gojo's shoulder and bury your face into his neck. He doesn't stop you. A large hand comes around the back of your head - the other one at your hips as he thrusts up into you with alarming force and precision. He feels so good it's a little scary, and you can't keep the noises from slipping out. You moan and whine each time the tip rubs against you inside, soft walls barely able to accommodate the size.
Your body feels hot everywhere he touches. It's been so long and Gojo is so careful but so intense. His expensive dress shirt rubs up against your nipples each time he moves. It's so good, so good - makes you want to cry.
"You're so sensitive." He laughs against your shoulder. "Gripping so tight every time I move. Do you want to cum so bad?"
"Yes," The words are a sob. Just a little more.
"Uh-huh. Tell me where to touch you. How should I make you cum."
You're too shamelessly pent up to feel shy anymore. "Touch my c-clit, please, please."
"Got it, got it - don't cry."
Gojo listens to you well. Thick fingers and an angled hand find your clit with ease as he bounces you on his cock with no regard. Your eyes roll back instantly, immediately - as an orgasm washes over your entire body. Back arching, you cum hard around the base of his cock - but Gojo just keeps fucking you through it. He doesn't stop even when you come down, only moves you both so you're laying on the couch on your back.
He kisses you then, and you meet his mouth with sloppy tears running down your face from the pleasure.
"Let's see what your stamina is like, yeah? See if you can keep up with me."
__
He fucks you unconscious.
Essentially. Though you take with enthusiasm even during your exhaustion because the sex is phenomenal - you have no idea when you stop.
You wake up in a bed, and you wake up completely clean. You don't know whose bed, but there's a large figure besides you. Half-asleep and fully exhausted, you feel shy thinking about the fact he probably bathed and dressed you while you were out.
What a strange man, you think - to do that.
He's talking to someone on the phone. You don't really make out much of the words, though you do hear your name in bits and pieces.
"...A college student.......- young then -...... open a bank account for.... - debt...- pay it all off before it becomes annoying.... look into -."
You shift under your blankets half asleep. A hand comes up on top of your head on the pillow, pushing hair from your face.
"Did I wake you?" His expression is hard to read in the dark with your eyes barely open. "Sorry. Almost done. Go back to sleep."
So you do, because you can't find strength to do much else.
The bed is warm, but your sure the heat you feel is from the strong, gentle head petting your head as you rest.
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aphroditelovesu · 4 months
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Yandere Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)
❝ 🍽 — lady l: I finally managed to post this!! I really liked the result and I hope you like it :) forgive me for any mistakes and good reading. 💙🤎
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, manipulation, kidnapping, death and mention of suicide and violence, toxic relationships.
❝🔪pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader x yandere!will graham.
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The idea of ​​someone else coming into their relationship wasn't something they planned or thought about. They were still getting used to the new dynamics of their relationship, so actually adding a third person wasn't in the cards. But when Hannibal and Will met you, that thought took root in their minds.
You were like a breath of fresh air to them. Something new, exciting, and something they could keep to themselves, as a new addition to their new lives. And they were eager to make you fit into your new life with them.
Initially, Hannibal and Will watched you from a distance, exchanging conspiratorial glances and smiles, as if sharing a silent secret. Every interaction with you only reinforced the idea that you were the missing piece to the puzzle they were putting together. They had no doubt that you would be theirs eventually, whether you wanted it or not.
Hannibal, with his calculating nature and magnetic charm, began to engage you with his intellectual conversations and sophisticated dinners, demonstrating an almost mesmerizing hospitality. He knew exactly how to capture your attention and make you feel special, he knew how to make you feel indispensable.
Will, on the other hand, with his sensitivity and keen perception, found subtle ways to connect with you. He understood you in a way few could, offering a shoulder to lean on and a deep understanding of your emotions and thoughts. His sincere vulnerability was a perfect contrast to Hannibal's confident assurance.
You found yourself torn between these two poles of attraction, each complementing the other in a way that seemed almost orchestrated. Hannibal and Will became more and more indispensable, each encounters deepening your connection and making the idea of ​​leaving their circle more and more unthinkable.
Finally, a dinner at Hannibal's house that felt more like a secret celebration than a simple meal. The tension in the air was palpable, filled with unspoken promises and unspoken desires. Hannibal and Will, with complicit looks, began to close the distance between the three of you, breaking down the last remaining barriers. They didn't hide their intentions anymore, nor what they were. There was no more secret.
They knew perfectly well how to manipulate you, how to make you trust them completely. Every interaction, every gesture, was carefully calculated to deepen their dependence and trust. Hannibal, with his ability to read people and understand their weaknesses, knew exactly what to say to make you feel valued and special. His words were like a balm, soothing any doubts you might have had.
Will, in turn, used his innate empathy to connect with you on a deep emotional level. He knew how to make you feel understood and accepted, creating an intimacy that seemed almost magical. His eyes reflected a sincerity that was difficult to question, and his presence offered a comfort that became addictive.
They were both good to you, in their own way. Hannibal would always cook you your favorite meals, and treat you to anything you want. Do you want to go on a ridiculously expensive trip? No problem. He will give you all the best and the best, bathing you in luxury. Will is more simplistic in this situation, he prefers to show his love for you through touches, like kisses and hugs, but he also gives you gifts when you want something.
Will is the more affectionate of the two, at least physically. He likes to hug you constantly, bury his head in your neck or steal kisses from you. Hannibal is already more subtle in his touches, he prefers to place a hand on your shoulder, lift your chin so that you look him in the eyes and kiss your forehead gently.
They are extremely possessive and overprotective and this is nothing new. Hannibal will kill and cook anyone who gives you the wrong look or displays inappropriate behavior around you. To him, you are a treasure that must be protected at all costs, and he will not hesitate to use his macabre skills to ensure your safety. Any perceived threat is quickly eliminated and transformed into a feast only you can enjoy.
Will, on the other hand, has a different but equally intense approach. He is more than willing to beat anyone to death if he thinks they are trying to steal you from them. His anger is raw and direct, driven by an intense passion and a desperate need to protect those he loves and he loves you, even if it's in a twisted way. For Will, you are the anchor that maintains his sanity, and he will do anything to maintain that stability, even if it means committing extreme acts of violence.
Hannibal and Will are an amazing duo when they work together and if they want you, they will get you. While Will may have reservations about kidnapping you and forcing you into a relationship with them, Hannibal already thinks otherwise. You are theirs and there is nothing wrong with taking what is yours, is there?
There is no escaping them. You can try as much as you want, but they will always find you. They are great at hunting together and they would hunt you all over the world if necessary. You won't leave them, they will be sure of that.
In the end, you become part of their world, accepting that, although complex and sometimes terrifying, it is the only place you truly belong. They own you, and you, in some way, also own them, creating an indissoluble bond that redefines the concept of relationship. The sooner you accept that this is your new reality and accept them as your partners, everything will be fine. But if not, Hannibal will have no problem teaching you manners and Will are going to be there to help heal your wounds and silence your cries.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months
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On The Naughty List
Yandere Krampus x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, spanking, bondage, dick piercings, size difference, Krampus, Christmas, assassin reader, punishment, kidnapping, biting, very mild blood from biting, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.5k (Hey guys, I hope you all like this. Kinda rushed, not beta read, please forgive any errors. My second Christmas gift to you all. I hope your holiday is amazing <3)
You got yourself settled in your hotel room. It was very early in the morning, not past 3am, on Christmas. But you were not Santa Claus and you were not delivering cheer. You had with you only a simple black suitcase. The furnishings in your room were sparse, but that was okay. You did not select this room because of the accommodations but rather for its view. It was not particularly scenic, merely a view of a road and residential area. But you were an assassin and this room afforded you clear aim into the room of your target’s living room. All you had to do was wait.
Your weapon was easy enough to assemble. A sniper rifle, of course. Finally you saw your designated victim pull up into their driveway and enter their house, so you opened the window and readied yourself. An icy chill filled the room. Your vantage point was clear and your weapon was ready but before you could take out your mark you heard a strange and tumultuous sound from behind.
It sounded like the Earth was being torn asunder and the four winds themselves were howling in unison as they collided.
You turned around and saw the very fabric of space and tear before you leaving a purple portal leaking black mist blocking the door to the hotel room. An odd scent like that of cinnamon and coal filled the room. You were about to flee through the open window, you had the skills necessary to scale the building, but the window slammed shut before you could act.
Not many things made a hardened combatant turned assassin such as yourself scared but you would be lying if you said you weren’t trembling.
You could hear a slow and rhythmic pounding sound getting nearer and nearer as if some unseen monstrosity approached from the other side of the portal. And that’s exactly what it was.
The first thing you saw erupt through the rip in space was the head of a horned beast. It was humanoid and wore a wicked grin full of sharp teeth. Eyes like black coals stared into you, piercing you with unrestrained glee in your fear.
Followed by this terrifying face was its body.
Muscular thighs with legs like tree trunks that ended in cloven hooves.. And his whip-like tail lashed angrily at the air. The demonic beast was covered in thick black fur.
The horrifying creature was at least 7 feet. tall.
The faint scent of burning coal filled the space surrounding it.
It took a thundering step towards you, and you cowered in place, momentarily stunned as it said in a deep booming voice, "I’m Krampus and someone has been verrrry naughty this yeeeear."
Though you felt more fear than you ever thought possible you were still a trained combatant turned assassin for hire and you managed to collect yourself about as well as it was possible for any mere human to in such a situation.
You shot the thing right between the eyes with your high-powered rifle, and he... laughed. The bullet bounced off uselessly, and he just... laughed...
You screamed and shouted as loudly as you could, hoping to attract help. Though what they could possibly do when he had shrugged off, a bullet remained to be seen.
No help came for you. Krampus always magically silenced noise from leaking out of rooms where he was punishing someone.
Suddenly, he closed the difference between the two of you and was upon you in record speed, moving supernaturally fast for such a behemoth.
With precise movements, strong hands and sharp claws made confetti out of your dark clothing before he had you bent over his knee.
"I usually use a birch rute for this, but I wanna feel your skin on my hand..."
You struggled and tried to get away, but there was no chance he would let you go. Krampus had to punish many humans, but you were special. Ironically, it was your defiance, the fight in your eyes, that initially attracted him to you.
His hard, calloused hand came down on your bare ass, causing you to curse and tremble.
With all your training something as simple as a slap to your ass shouldn't have bothered you much, even from such a large adversary, but it was like he had slammed the essence of dread into your very heart.
But that still wasn't enough to still you. You kicked, punched, and clawed ferally at any inch of flesh you could reach, like a feral animal backed into a corner.
But he only laughed more as he spanked you over and over. Until you were crying. Worse than the pain was the total humiliation.
Through it all, though, you never stopped struggling. No matter how much terror and pain you endured. You didn't realize it, but it only made him more into you.
Everyone he had punished before, broke them like a kid with a toy, and left them to deal with the trauma. But you didn't seem so easily broken, and that sealed your fate.
If you kept resisting like you were, he was going to keep you forever.
Krampus finally stopped the assault on your rear and dragged you, kicking and screaming over to the bed. You could now see his cock, large and uncut with a frenum ladder set of piercings going up the underside of his length.
"Stop! Get away from me!!"
"Yeah, because you're really the one in position to give commands right now."
He chuckled and bent you over the bed as you writhed madly, knowing what was about to happen.
"Might need to keep you still for this."
In a puff of black smoke, a coil of rope appeared in his hand that he skillfully used to bind your legs and arms.
While he had tied up many people in his line of work, he had never actually used rape to punish someone. But he wanted to see how far he could take things with you. Though at this point, even if he broke you, he was sure he would keep you anyway, just to fix you up again.
Krampus spit on your hole and plunged his cock in roughly. Hardly enough prep to do anything for the pain. For the fiery burning stretch that came with his big dick breaching your entrance.
Despite being bound you still wriggled as best you could while screaming until your throat hurt.
"Fuck you! Goddamned piece o- AHHHH!!!!"
He smirked as he increased the pace. Good. His toy STILL wasn't crumbling apart.
Sharp claws raked your back as his hot breath cascaded down your neck while he whispered, "For someone so bad you feel so good."
Tears rushed down your cheeks. You were infuriated with him and with yourself for having allowed yourself to be taken with such ease. What was far more reprehensible than that though, was the fact that your body had adjusted to his size and it was actually starting to feel somewhat good despite the pain and discomfort.
You yelped as he lightly smacked your sore ass while fucking you.
"Go to H-hell bastard!"
"Ha, been there."
He pulled out, flipped you over on your back, and slid right back into, profuse amounts of precum now providing more adequate lubrication. Embarrassingly, you couldn't stifle a moan as he entered back into you with his piercings adding to the sensation you were trying to ignore.
If your legs hadn't been tied you would have tried to kick him right between the legs for making your body betray you like that.
He leaned over and nibbled on your neck lightly with his sharp teeth, licking up the little droplets of blood that welled to the surface of your skin
You moaned as he did so, as you were pulled closer and closer to orgasm.
Violently, you twitched as you came hard, blushing deeply and cursing him as you did so. He ignored you and licked the blush on your cheeks, humiliating you even farther.
For a few more moments you thrashed as much as you were able in overstimulation as he continued to breed you. His skin meeting yours with an audible slap at each thrust.
Finally he went in deep and filled you with abnormally hot cum that coaxed another orgasm from your exhausted body.
After a few moments of panting he sighed with content and slung you over his shoulders, cum leaking from you and out on to him as he carried you. Vulgarities rolling from your tongue with each heavy step he took.
Another portal opened and he stepped through with you. The cussing, the fierceness, the unbreakable spirit. A perfect partner.
You were the best Christmas gift he had ever given himself, and there was no way he was ever going to give you up.
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Note
hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!
I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking
Them as fathers
Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him
Kenma Kozume
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First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.
You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,
No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.
Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.
Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.
Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.
Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.
You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.
He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.
Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.
Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.
Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.
Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)
Yu Nishinoya
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Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.
Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.
I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.
Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.
This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.
Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.
And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.
Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.
This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to  be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.
Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.
He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.
Kei Tsukishima
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When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.
He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.
Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.
Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.
The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.
Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)
You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.
Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.
Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.
Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).
Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?
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street-smarts00 · 4 months
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Overwhelmed
Spencer Reid x Autistic!Reader
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Summary: Reader gets sensory overload while on a case. Spencer knows how it feels and exactly how to help them.
WC: 1.3k
Based on request
Tags: autistic!reader, gender neutral reader but I only mention pronouns like once. Sensory overload, fluff
A/N: I hope you guys like the fic! I'm familiar with sensory issues cause I have ADHD but I am allistic so I tried my best.
While you were at work it became second nature to mask. Biting back the urge to repeat others when your echolalia was on the tip of your tongue. Bottling up your emotions when they started to feel too strong.
Not stimming at work was found to be the biggest challenge. You tried to find little outlets like tapping your fingertips or playing with your jewelry. But if you didn’t have to mask, you'd probably end up swaying in your seat, clicking pens, or shaking out your hands from nerves or excitement.
Today, you were away on a case with the team. You've been busy since practically the crack of dawn and were both physically and mentally exhausted.
Some of the members of your team were following leads while you and Spencer were going through letters and gifts delivered to the victims before their deaths.
You were reading a letter from the unsub while the loud voices from the precinct seeped into the office your team had settled in. The words on the page in front of you were starting to bleed together. You must have read the same sentence at least 5 times; and yet, you had retained none of the information.
The noise only seemed to get louder and more defined. You could hear at least 4 different voices, the incessant clicking of keyboards, the coffee machine, and a constant buzzing of the electricity from the lights overhead.
And on top of the overwhelming noise, the lights in the room only seemed to get brighter. You kept squinting or rubbing your eyes every minute or so. But nothing could help the words on the page from floating away.
“You okay?”
Your focus was pulled back to reality from the voice across the table. You looked up and met Spencer’s gaze.
“Fine,” you said plainly trying to hide the fact that your head felt like it was going to explode.
“Are you sure? You’ve been staring at that letter for five minutes.”
“I said I’m fine,” you quickly replied a bit harsher than before. You didn’t mean to, you would never snap at him.
You put down the paper and ran your hand over your jeans. Desperate to distract yourself from your other senses.
Your eyes get lost in the pile of paper in front you so you don’t notice Spencer getting up and walking across the room. You don’t notice until the cacophony of the station dulls. It now sounds muffled, almost completely gone.
As you continue tracing your hand against your jeans you hear a soft noise come from behind you. You turn around to see Spencer closing the blinds of the window that leads to the bullpen. He then turns off some of the overhead lights, turning the room dim.
With your mind still fuzzy, you couldn’t comprehend what he was doing but you were grateful for it. The dimmed lights and sound with the added privacy of the blinds helped you start to relax. Yet you still clung to the rough texture of the denim of your jeans.
Spencer then pulled up a chair to sit in front of you and face you.
“Hey,” he held up his hand in front of you. “Put your hand out like this”.
You copied him with the hand that wasn’t running up and down your thigh. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his, you glanced between your lap and his hand.
“Take a deep breath and slowly close your fist while you inhale. Then hold your breath for four seconds while you make a fist. Like this.”
Spencer slowly inhaled as he closed his hand. You copied him with a small shake in your breath. He then quietly counted to four for you to hold your breath.
“Now release your hand as you exhale,” he guided. You copied his actions and watched his hand and you exhaled.
The both of you continued the breathing exercise for a moment. Finally, your head seemed to stop spinning; but there was still a lingering discomfort you couldn’t quite place.
You didn’t seem to notice your hand on your thigh had resumed its search for touch in the denim. Spencer did. He saw you using the sensation of your jeans as a way to self-regulate.
“Y/N, do I have your permission to touch you?” He asked softly.
You nodded your head as no words could escape your throat.
Spencer shuffled his chair closer to you and reached for the hand you still held in the air. He lowered your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He placed his other hand on his knee, open, waiting for you to reach out when you felt comfortable.
Almost immediately, the hand that had previously resided on your jeans now reached for his. He gave both your hands a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. The corners of his lips turned up into a smile as he watched the last bit of overwhelm leave your body. He could practically see the weight being lifted off your shoulders.
You brought your gaze up to meet his. His eyes were so kind but also filled with worry. His pupils dilated from the low light in the room, at least that's what you figured.
“How’d you …”
You knew it was a dumb question. He was a profiler and a damn good one. But your brain still questioned how he knew exactly what you needed.
“Sensory overload occurs when your senses are taking in more information than your brain can process. When your brain becomes overstimulated from the input it translates to feelings of anxiety or extreme discomfort,” he explained. He was a bit worried about continuing as most people would brush off or ignore his long explanations.
Instead, he was met with your attention, waiting for him to continue. He then realized he never exactly answered your question.
“You kept rubbing your eyes, reading the same passage over and over again, zoning out, fidgeting, running your hands down your jeans, and … you kinda snapped at me.” His voice lowered towards the end of his statement.
Your eyes widened and eyebrows raised, “I’m so sorry,” you worriedly apologize.
“It’s okay,” he reassured softly as he gave your hands another gentle squeeze. “I know you were overwhelmed and probably felt out of control.”
A small smile spread on your face. “Thank you.”
He unconsciously matched your smile. “It’s no problem.”
“No really. You have no idea how much this helped,” you confessed.
He looked down and licked his lips while considering his response. “I get overstimulated from time to time. It happens a lot when the lights are too bright. I know it’s a stressful thing to experience, especially here at work.”
His eyes rose to meet yours. Your eyes always shined with kindness and warmth. He hoped he could provide that warmth and comfort for you.
“I want you to know I’ll always be here for you when you need it.”
Your eyes wrinkled from the smile on your face. Spencer couldn’t help but mirror your expression.
After a moment of silence, you realized you still had your hands in his. His eyes followed yours to your hands and his face became flushed. Your cheeks soon turned a shade of red as you both pulled your hands apart from each other.
You cleared your throat before speaking, “Thanks again.”
“You- you’re welcome,” he stuttered as he made his way back to his seat.
It took a moment to return to your work. Not because of the chaos outside the office or the overhead lights. Instead, your mind kept wandering to Spencer’s kind gesture and your hands in his.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, it seemed Spencer’s reading speed was decreasing. His eyes wouldn’t stop from wandering to the person across from him.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Text
Title: Final Girl.
Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).
Word Count: 1.4k.
TW: 'Girl' Is In The Title But Reader Is Gender Neutral, Death and Blood, Mentions of Guns, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, and Spoilers for the Ninteenth-Century Novel Dracula.
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The night you met him was, by no coincidence, also the night you learned what it meant to feel your blood run cold.
‘Met’ might’ve been an exaggeration. You didn’t meet him so much as you stood still and stared at him – lumbering down the hallway, clutching a gore-splattered butcher's knife, his suit disheveled and stained with a dark, blotting substance you couldn’t bring yourself to put a name to, in your fear-induced paralysis. With the manor's high ceilings and dim lighting, he seemed impossibly tall, his black eyes blank and terrible, his smile manic in a way that sent a chill up your spine, that left you frozen where you stood and unable to run as he came to stand in front of you, as he raised a hand and—
And pointed to the book tucked under your arm, a yellowed paperback beaten to hell and back from weeks of loving abuse. You’d spent hours wondering if you should bring it with you, if there was anyone else on the face of the planet who’d be stupid enough to bring a book to a mascarade ball, but you figured you’d have to step out for a breath of fresh air at some point, tonight, and phones weren’t really an option at this kind of thing. Looking back on it, you struggled to remember why you’d spent so much time agonizing over something so inconsequential, especially when whoever found your body likely wouldn’t pay it a second glance. “Is that—” He started, pausing to wet his lips before correcting himself. “Is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”
You blinked several times, shifting your weight. “It is,” you managed, eventually, just before the point of no return. “I… I’m only a few chapters in, though. They’re only on the second blood transfusion.”
His smile widened. “I’m reading it for the second time, now. That’s one of the best passages - you can practically feel the dread mounting in the prose.” While he spoke, you stole another glance at his attire. With your shock beginning to fade and your nerves given a few seconds to cool, you could see that he clearly hadn’t just walked out of a crime scene. His clothes were wrinkled, but not torn, not displaced the way they would’ve been if he’d been in a real fight, and he was covered in a cartoonish amount of (presumably fake) blood. He couldn’t have meant for it to be realistic, not unless you were supposed to believe he’d bled twenty people dry on his own.
He must’ve noticed you staring. His rambling trailed off into an airy chuckle, his free hand drifting to his blood-soaked shirt. “I’m afraid I might’ve misread my invitation,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. You were almost in awe of his nonchalance. Showing up to a masquerade ball in a costume fit for a b-rated haunted house would’ve left you catatonic for… god, the rest of the year, at least. “That’s how I found my way back here, actually. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to stay in the ballroom for very long, considering I’m dressed for a very different party.”
“No, no, that makes a lot of sense! I mean, a costume party would be more in-season.” You felt like an idiot. You could only hope you hadn’t looked as scared as you felt. “Honestly, I’m just surprised they let you in with a prop.”
He glanced to his ‘knife’, too, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Oh, this little thing?” He took the blade in his free hand, bending it downward. Unceremoniously, it snapped into two pieces as easily as if it’d been made of little more than tin foil and plastic - which, to be fair, it probably was. “Most people struggle to see me as a threat, for whatever reason.”
“The doormen probably just felt bad for the strange man who showed up to a charity gala covered in blood.” You spared a small smile, then genuinely brightened, taking up your novel and fishing out the spare mask you’d shoved between the pages while you were getting ready. He should’ve counted himself lucky that you could never be bothered to find a real bookmark. “Mine came in a set of two,” you explained, signaling for him to bend down. A little too easily, he obeyed, stooping just low enough for you to work your spare mask over his head. It was cheaper than anything you would usually like to show off – the base simple black cloth, the embroidery meaninglessly gaudy, the main body kept in place by little more than a simple white ribbon that never seemed to sit just right, but he accepted your offering with a grateful hum. “It’s not much, but—” You paused, buttoning his suit jacket, doing your best to make it look a little less like he’d just walked out of a bad slasher movie and a little more like a tragically color-blind, but ultimately well-dressed party-goer. “It should get you through the door.”
He straightened his back, and you thought you might’ve seen something spark in his dark eyes. Then again, it could’ve just been the moonlight. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”
Oh, right – that was something most people did before offering to fix a stranger’s clothes, wasn’t it? You rushed to introduce yourself, and he did the same. “Chrollo Lucilfer.” And then, offering you his hand, “Perhaps I’d be more warmly received with a plus one?”
As hesitant as you were to slip back into the ballroom on the arm of a disheveled stranger who’d already made an impression of his own, it would’ve broken your heart to turn him down. That, and you might’ve had a weakness for disheveled strangers who fell on the more handsome side of the spectrum.
You laughed as you threaded your arm through his, letting Chrollo guide you back to the main event. A second passed with only the sound of your footsteps and distance music to fill the quiet, then another. Eventually, you broke the silence. “It’s very well-written,” you started, trying to fight the urge to fidget. “But… I don’t think I’m the right audience. I care too much about Lucy. Seeing her go through so much and knowing she’s not going to make it is just—” You sighed, shook your head. “It’s agony. Especially when the villain is literally in the title. I mean, I know the characters don’t know that, but still.”
“The benefit of a voyeur's perspective.” For all his glowing praise, he didn’t seem very offended. “I think the dramatic irony is part of the appeal. By the time the tension breaks, it’s nearly too painful to keep going.”
“Which is exactly why it hurts to read,” you groaned, slumping into his side. “I get why it’s happening, but I just can’t stand spending so long on the build-up knowing how it’s going to end. It probably doesn’t help that Lucy’s one of my favorites, either. Well, aside from Mina, but it wouldn’t be fair to compare her to the author’s self-insert.”
The two of you came to a pair of rounded oak doors. There’d been a pair of attendants stationed outside when you left, but Chrollo didn’t seem to mind shouldering it open himself, ushering you inside with a smile and an idle gesture. You took a second to steel your nerves, still not entirely prepared to throw yourself into a very crowded room filled with very loud music and very eager socialites, then crossed the threshold, coming face to face with—
Carnage. Pure, unadulterated carnage.
There were bodies everywhere, each corpse mangled and bruised and broken in every possible way. Dark blood and broken glass covered the formerly pristine ivory floor, and the walls were painted with the remnants of gunfire. A few people were still standing – the murderers, you figured, judging by the blood on their outlandish clothes, the weapons in their hands, the indifferent agitation written across their expressions as you stared at them in horror, as your heart threatened to give out for the second time that night. The tallest man you’d ever seen pointed a hand-held machine gun in your direction, but Chrollo found his way back to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “Hold your fire,” he said, casually, as if you weren’t standing at the edge of a bloodbath. As if he’d known what he was leading you into. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. The air hitched in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back and forcing you to meet his unblinking stare. You’d been right the first time. There was never anything his eyes could’ve been but terrible. “I always did like Mina.”
There was never anything he could’ve been but a monster, prowling for his next kill.
“I guess I just have a soft spot for survivors.”
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dokries · 2 months
Text
that’s rough, buddy
pairing: kim mingyu x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, (a bit of) angst, established relationship
word count: 1.6k
warnings: miscommunication (everything turns out well!), mingyu’s just a little forgetful, seungkwan best friend, a forehead kiss
author note: this was requested by a lovely anon <3 again, i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it 😭 i hope you enjoy reading, and lots of love (as usual) 🫶
masterlist
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mingyu thinks you hate him, and it’s not just because you haven’t visited his apartment for more than eight days—though that’s concerning as well; you’re usually over within a couple of days, even if you’re busy, which he definitely knows you aren’t, considering how much you’ve been going out with friends, namely seungkwan and chan.
he purses his lips, looking up at the ceiling from his comfortable spot on the couch…alone, just like the last two weeks. his phone dings and he opens it immediately, a frown appearing on his face when it turns out to just be seungcheol asking if something’s up between the two of you—of course he knows; seungkwan never even looked in mingyu’s direction the last time all thirteen hung out together.
mingyu sighs, responding back with a “ask seungkwan not me” before opening up to the last time you had texted him. he had said he was busy back when you had asked if he wanted to go to a photography exhibition, and you haven't responded to his hurried apology.
maybe it’s time to say something…? he pauses before sighing again, going back to staring at the ceiling, hoping the little stipples above him will make a decision so he doesn’t have to.
of course, the only reason you’re avoiding him is because you think he hates you—which may be a huge overstatement but what else would you call it? it’s one thing to not have time for dates because that, at least, you could understand. maybe it’s just that you’ve passed your puppy love phase, and that’s alright; you’re both very busy people but…why is he ignoring you? that’s not the mingyu you know, and it’s been almost a year since you started dating.
the most annoying thing is that he probably doesn’t even realize your anniversary is coming up in the next few days—though you’ve stopped caring (the dried tear stains on seungkwan’s couch pillow say otherwise).
so when he texts you while you’re at chan’s apartment, you frown in surprise, catching the attention of seungkwan, who’s beside you.
my gyu 🥰 ❙
hey it’s been a while since you came over… movie night at 6?
you move to pull up your keyboard but seungkwan stops you by quickly pressing the power button before you can even start typing a reply.
seungkwan glares at you when you start to protest, and takes your phone into his hands to prevent anything happening, as if he’s your parental figure. “don’t you even dare say yes.”
“maybe…” chan sighs and rubs his eyes with his palms, catching your attention—and seungkwan’s too, as he raises an eyebrow at his best friend, telling him to continue. “maybe we should give him a chance?”
seungkwan immediately scoffs and jumps into a rant about why you should do the exact opposite of what chan’s suggesting. “chan, have you not been paying attention these past few weeks? that man has left our dear baby—” seungkwan moves to shush you when you say you’re not a baby, continuing once you press your lips into a straight line. “he literally left them hanging multiple times, and all he had to say was ‘sorry i can’t make it sweetie.’”
chan frowns, tilting his head. “isn’t that what you’re supposed to say to your partner if you can’t make it?”
seungkwan pauses, sighing. “well…yes but come on, he could at least offer to make it up to them if he’s done this like ten times! also, he definitely forgot about their anniversary, which is so much more horrible.”
as seungkwan takes a deep breath to calm himself, you correct him quietly. “it’s been three times.”
“what?” seungkwan looks at you exasperatedly, and chan giggles from his seat on the chair in front of the two of you.
“i said he’s only done it three times. besides, he’s been busy…it makes sense for him to forget.” you hold out a hand to stop seungkwan before he launches into another spiel on how mingyu sucks as a boyfriend so you can keep going. “listen, kwan, i think spending some time with him would be right…but i’m not ready for that yet.”
seungkwan bites his lip before nodding, his expression softening. “okay. as long as you’re happy, okay?”
you hum in agreement as chan stands up, clapping his hands excitedly, and you exchange a look with seungkwan.
chan grins, pulling out an uno deck from a drawer in the table beside him. “how about we play uno to distract ourselves?” he nods towards you before smirking at his other friend. “i’m sure they’d love to see me beat you.”
seungkwan raises an eyebrow before scoffing again, raising his shoulders in a shrug. “well, lee jung chan, you should know you’re totally gonna lose.”
chan scoffs, and as your best friends start bickering like normal, you smile, knowing they’re amping up the dramatics to take your mind off…whatever you and mingyu are right now. well, you could think about your boyfriend after beating both chan and seungkwan in uno.
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mingyu’s been sulky all day, and wonwoo not asking him why isn’t helping the sinking pout on his face.
he stares unrelentingly at his best friend as wonwoo faces the self-help bookshelf in front of them, searching for the book he’s been looking for since they entered the small shop.
“why are you like this?” wonwoo eventually breaks under mingyu’s pitiful gaze and huffs out a breath, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before turning to his friend. “what’s wrong?”
mingyu sighs like he’s been doing for the past few days, and wonwoo puts the book in his hand back on the shelf, expecting his friend to not get to the point quickly (he’s right).
mingyu says your name quietly as a response, and wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “what is that supposed to mean?”
“it means that they hate me! i don’t know what i did either…i mean look, it was pretty busy at work so i couldn’t go on dates with them when they asked but that’s okay right?” mingyu frowns and bites his lip when he realizes he’s a bit too loud for the bookstore.
nodding, wonwoo processes the information he’s just been given before he puts a sympathetic hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “good luck with that.”
mingyu scoffs, about to scold the man in front of him before his gaze drifts off to the bookshelf in the far corner, where the two of you had been searching for cooking books around the time you had first started dating, which was probably around…a year–oh.
oh, he’s so dumb, isn’t he?
“hm?” wonwoo says when his friend pauses, looking up from the book he just picked up as mingyu groans and puts his head into his hands, moving to rest against a nearby bookshelf.
wonwoo looks over to the cooking section and turns back to mingyu. “hey, isn’t it–wait…you forgot the anniversary, didn’t you?”
mingyu groans again in agreement, and gets a head pat paired with a “that’s rough, buddy” from his friend before he’s left alone, coincidentally, in the relationship advice section.
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seungkwan sighs as he comes back from checking through the peephole of your apartment door, gesturing towards it as he plops down onto the couch. “it’s for you.”
you raise an eyebrow, getting up to open the door—seungkwan already checked anyway, so there’s no need to look through the peephole again–and come face to face with mingyu, the man you’ve been avoiding. “oh.”
the paper around the bouquet of white orchids in his hands crinkles as he shifts his weight, a nervous smile on his face as he calls your name hesitantly. “hey.”
you nod in greeting before looking back to seungkwan, who’s glaring at mingyu with his arms crossed, and paying attention to the man in front of you as he clears his throat.
“i, uh…here.” mingyu pushes the flowers towards you, and lets out a breath of relief when you take it gently from him. “i’m sorry.”
you stare at him. “for what? forgetting our anniversary? for not apologizing for so long?” you sigh when he remains silent, looking back at the clock in your living room. “there’s only a few hours left of our one year anniversary anyway…it’s fine.”
mingyu shakes his head, coming closer to grab your arm gently with a serious expression. “no, it’s definitely not fine. i hurt you, and that’s not okay.” he pauses, frowning. “besides…i miss my partner–i miss you.”
you sigh, looking into mingyu’s eyes, and you know he’s genuinely sorry. you break your arm free from his grip, causing his face to drop.
you place the bouquet of orchids on the side table, and call out to seungkwan. “hey, kwan? do you mind finding a vase for these?”
“i have to make the most out of these last two hours of my anniversary with my boyfriend after all.” mingyu’s face lights up as you take his hand, still looking back at seungkwan’s soft smile, which matches your own.
you give mingyu a pointed look as you close the door behind you, trusting seungkwan to keep your small apartment safe. “but first, we really do have to talk about…whatever the last month was, okay?”
mingyu nods eagerly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as the two of you grin. “i missed you so much, baby.”
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