#* we could be heroes just for one day / radio !

[katiascraft]

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[dcxdpdabbles]

just imagining danny finally finding wes in cassandra's curse all

danny: you have something that belongs to me

wes: damn it fenton! shit like this is why your parents think we're dating

danny: i thought it was your constant obsession with me and the fact you spent months following me with a camera trying to get proof of my identity

tim: *watching his maybe boyfriend flirting with a cute hero*

tim: i can work with this

Given the circumstances, Wes is resting relatively well in his hospital bed. He hasn't seen Tim Drake since first waking up….in a sense. This may have something to do with people's odd reaction to the word "meta."

As far as the people in this world are concerned, Wes is a newly changed meta due to his encounter with Joker.

He isn't sure what that means, as the hospital staff talk about it like he would already know, and he hasn't had much time to find information on the subject. Based on how people behaved, he can conclude that there was a lousy stigma against Metas, and he wonders if it was like the stigma associated with the AIDS crisis.

Some nurses seemed nervous about touching him, and Wes almost felt terrible if it weren't their actual job to have bedside manners.

Wes's days have mostly been filled with watching late-nineties TV shows, doing reruns in his hospital room, and letting the staff check his vitals. He sometimes listens to the radio, but it is only fun if he can dance along to the songs.

It's been about two weeks since his kidnapping.

Whatever the Joker did to him left him feeling weak beyond words, and the most he could bring himself to do without falling flat on his face was wobble his way to the toilet. It took forever to gather enough control to do things like type on a laptop the staff lent him or sat up without flaring his entire boy with pain like the first day.

We could tell this world was different from his own. After living in Amity and surviving whatever new crazy thing happened to Danny, he recognizes portals to other worlds or dimensions.

Just looking outside his window told him how different things were. The cars rolling down the street were less bulky, made smaller, and had smoother edges. The build boards were replaced with giant TV show casting ads, and people walked around with little rectangles resembling buttonless PDAs Tucker was so fond of.

If the more advanced technical devices didn't scream another world, then the fact that his clear blue-sky small town was replaced with towering buildings and grey skies of a large city led Wes to believe he was nowhere near home.

How long would it be now for Danny to find him? He figured he was somewhere close by regarding worlds, seeing as a Clown-Ghost (?) could easily break through the barrier.

He would try calling out for him- as some forms, he had seen online for ghost hunting claimed to say the ghost's name would summon them- but that wouldn't help the secret relationship allegations that the student body had flung onto him and Danny.

At least the nineties sitcom he was forced to get into didn't exist in his world, so they were entertaining when he ignored all the badly aged jokes. Wes sighs, slumping a little in place, trying to ignore the soft ache in his back.

A knock interrupts one of the characters, yelling, "We're on a break!" for which Wes is grateful. He would scream if he had to hear that man complain about his relationship being in on the rocks for not having proper communication. "Come in."

The door flings open to show his favorite nurse. Caroline Hill was one of the few who didn't mind touching or treating him like an average person. She also brought him the laptop, staying by his side while gently encouraging his stiff fingers to type. She laughed when Wes's mind was utterly blown when pressing buttons proved too complicated and flipped the thing into an interactive screen.

She called it a 2-in-1 laptop, but Wes was stuck on the idea that the screen was touchable and that people could use their fingers as a mouse. This world was so cool.

So yes, Wes liked Caroline, so he respected her preference and didn't point out he could tell it was Tim Drake dressed in drag. If she wanted to be known as Caroline and work under that name, then who was he would kick up a fuss about it?

She always answered to feminine pronouns, and the other nurses treated her like any girl Wes, encounter so even if it wasn't simply drag. She was Caroline, and he would treat her as such until she told him otherwise.

"How are you feeling today, Wes?" She asks, voice slightly raspy in the same way that told him she was purposely attempting to make her voice higher but falling short.

He smiles at her. "Same as always. I managed to stand alone without feeling like my legs would give out on me this morning."

"That's great!" She spreads a blanket over his legs, the fabric warm from a heater. He mentions "Gotham" was far too cold for his liking. "What about your meta gene? Any progress?"

She asked a lot about that. Wes wasn't sure what she was hoping for, what the meta was, or if it was safe to admit he had no idea what was happening. On the one hand, it may help him get better treatment if only to earn some respect, but on the other hand, what if metals were targeted by the government, much like the GIW?

He figured it would be better to shrug and act like he was aware but weary of speaking about it. She offered him a small smile, moving the conversation along while checking the machines he was hooked to. He didn't know what half of them did, only recognizing the heart monitor and breathing tank.

On the screen, one of the characters is talking about the betrayal, and he scowls at it. If you sat and talked things through, this wouldn't happen.

Caroline laughs. "But then we wouldn't have a show."

He frowns, "Yeah, but it's not hard to have conversations like that. It's essential in relationships to tell your partner what you expect."

"Speaking from experience?"

Wes flushes, "I haven't dated that much, but my last relationship ended because we wanted different things."

"Well, it's good to know you, and he was mature enough for our age to-"

"Her."

Caroline pauses, blinking owlishly at him. "Pardon?"

"Her. My ex was my old girlfriend." Wes clarifies.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you liked boys, given that you call out for Danny whenever you sleep. " She looks flustered and babbles a little, which doesn't make Wes feel better.

"Why does everyone say that about Danny and me?" He mutters, closing his eyes and trying not to sink in the ground. "I'm bi, and bi-myself but I'm not that desperate."

Caroline offers him an uncomfortable smile before quickly finishing her visit and running out of the room. It's probably for the best.

[checosbluespring]

racing hearts → op81

oscar piastri x plus size!fem reader

genre: drivers room smut, established relationship

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 2.7k

song: cupid's chokehold- gym class heroes

sidenote: hi everyone! finally the new fic is here and it's an oscar one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic because i don't have a plan for the next one haha. also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

Silvertone made you nervous, don't get me wrong, all of Oscars races made you incredibly nervous but it wasn't often you were in the paddock watching in person. He was doing good, no matter how he did you were always proud of him, but it was nice to hear him over the radio sounding happy. Your nerves got the best of you, and you found yourself shaking your leg and biting your nails, before it got worse you decided a little walk around the paddock would be calming. 

You and Oscar had been dating a little over two years, and those two years had been amazing. You remember his year as a reserve driver and all the hesitation that he felt. You remember when he first got word about getting a spot in f1 and the tears of joy that fell down your face when he told you. You remember every big and little moment that has impacted your relationship. 

Before dating, you guys were friends, you were getting your masters degree in London and happened to be friends with one of his friends. Everything kinda felt like fate, when you first met him you had been so shy, of course you had heard about the hot shot f2 driver, and of course you had been nervous. A part of this nervousness and shyness you felt was because you were worried how he would react to you being a bigger girl. 

To your surprise Oscar was amazing to you. And over the next couple of moments as he was pursuing you, he did not shy away from being affectionate.

You would like to say the rest was history but it wasn't, that your relationship had its ups and downs. Oscar wanted to go public with your relationship, it was you who had told him we should hold off. You knew how people would react and this was his first year in f1, you didn't want to add to that stress. People would bombard him on his social media posts, interviews would ask questions, you couldn't do that to him. After all he's worked for. Truth be told you would like to show your affection to Oscar in public, to be able to hold and kiss him after a good quali or a podium, but you knew how mean the internet could be and you couldn't do that to him or yourself.

The sound of the cars pull you out of your trace and you figure it was time to head back to the garage and watch. You felt a pit in your stomach, he was doing good, and only a few laps left but anything could happen. With the final lap you see he finished 4th, you were extremely happy for him. But in the back of your mind, you knew Oscar would be mad. Mad that he was so close to a podium. Despite that you couldn’t wait to hug and congratulate him. 

The garage was crowded, roars and screams echoed in your ears. The team was proud of their 2nd and 4th finish. And while no one knew why you were there or your intentions, you couldn’t help but feel extremely proud of both boys. 

You knew it would take Oscar a while to finish his debriefing, post race interviews, and just overall navigating the garage. You took it upon yourself to sneak into his drivers room and wait until he’s done. Walking in see a small picture of you and him nestled away near his backpack.

A sudden jolt of possessiveness, and just overall happiness rings through you. At the end of the day you couldn’t believe Oscar and you were together. He was the most amazing, caring and loving person you could’ve ever imagined to have. You knew you had to do something when he came into the room to cheer him up because, even though fourth place was an incredible finish, Oscar always thrived for more. 

You make yourself comfortable, slipping off your shoes and putting your hair in a ponytail. You looked through the tiny closet that was in the drivers room, where he said he would leave a larger hoodie for you to wear after the race if it was cold. It was the little things like this that made you love him even more. While you weren’t the type of girl who could wear his hoodies or shirts because they were too small on you. He made the extra effort to give you what you wanted. 

While waiting, you came up with the most amazing idea, you and Oscar had a pretty active sex life. You were both young, what could you say? it was always pretty difficult during practice days and qualities to find time alone with each other but today you decided you were going to plan something special. 

You found yourself getting excited at the idea, crossing your legs you try to create some friction to hold yourself off until Oscar gets into the room, but luck was not on your side today, and it took two more hours until Oscar finally entered the room, looking exhausted, flushed and sweaty. 

His hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. Just how you liked it when his hair was down. His pretty eyes sparkled at you, but through his smile, you could tell he was disappointed and sad.

“Hi baby, how was debrief?” you questioned

“Same old, same old just took longer to get out because they wanted to strategize on how we can get a one-two next race. Are you ready to go? I’m exhausted, starving and I need to shower desperately.”

Before you can nod, you remember the plan you had made a couple hours earlier. He might be too tired to do anything, but all you can do is try.

“Why don’t you sit down for a minute Osc, we can get you changed out of your fireproofs, and wait a little while traffic is still dying down. Here let me order us some food to be delivered back to the hotel for later on” 

You quickly get on your phone and order his favorite post race meal, a chicken burger with sweet potato fries. You opt out and get yourself something different. After placing your order, you start to grab his change of clothes that he brought with him. When you are face to face in front of him, you see Oscar looking up at you with the most fondest eyes, and quiet smile. 

Oscar wasn’t the most romantic person in the world, but just by existing he made up for it. Nonetheless he never strayed away from complimenting you.

“Have I told you, you are the best girlfriend in the world, you take such good care of me”

“You’ve said it once or twice but I wouldn’t mind hearing it more” you wink as you slowly start to take off his undershirt. You take the liberty to also take off his pants, so you kneel down in front of him and start to pull off his boots one by one. This felt extremely intimate and it left you with a flushed feeling.  

You gesture him to lift his hips so you could pull off the remaining part of his fireproofs that were pooled loosely around his waist. Once he does this you shimmy them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. 

“You did so good today baby” you said while rubbing your hands up and down the tops of his thighs.

“You raced so well. You don’t know how proud I am of you. My rookie, my baby, you are so perfect Osc, my one and only”

You see a tint of red cover his cheeks and nose. This was something you guys have been experimenting more with, you being dominant. You weren’t gonna do that today. Tonight you just wanted to let him know how good he was. You slowly see a tent pop up in his boxers

“Oh my, my, Oscar what’s this, do you like hearing how good you are? Well you are, you are so good” 

Instead of replying, Oscar tries to hide his face with his forearm. That just won’t do.

“Oh no no no, don’t hide yourself from me, isn’t that what you always tell me”

He slowly removes his forearm to look down at you. 

“Baby can I please suck you off, want to show you how proud I am”

He nods his head yes and lets out a tiny please. 

That’s all you needed to hear before you slide his boxers off. His pretty pink cock springs free, red at the tip, angry looking and dripping. Oscar had the prettiest cock you had ever seen, to be fair you had only seen a couple in your life but his was so pretty. Average in length, maybe a bit below, but thick, pale with a pink tinge to it. Oscar left things pretty natural in the hair department but that never bothered you. Everything about him just made sense. 

Your mouth instantly drools at the sight of it, laying across his tummy. You spit in your right hand and grasp it at the base, and slowly drag your hand up his shaft. You look up to see Oscar’s eyes slowly flutter close. A tiny breath leaves his mouth. You decided now was the time to praise him some more.

“You have such a pretty cock Oscar, fucks me so well, fills me up in the best way possible. No one has ever made me come the way you do, you take such good care of me, let me do the same for you”

With that you bring your head down to softly lick the head, swirling your tongue around the tip, you dip your head down and lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip and fully take the head into your mouth. 

Oscar’s hands were gripping the couch as hard as he could, trying to keep the moans at a minimum, the driver room walls were very thin. Oscar was usually on the quieter side, but you don’t know what possessed you to say this.

“Don’t hold back, be loud love, I want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel, want everyone to know I’m in here worshiping your cock”

“Fuck y/n you have such a dirty mouth” he whined. 

You giggled and brought your cheek down to nestle his cock. Grabbing it firmly you slap it against your face leaving a slight sting. You couldn’t help but look up at him as you did this, he was staring down at you, mouth agape. 

“I left your cheek all red” he muttered, you could sense he felt a little bad because of it. You couldn’t have that.

“Good, want us to walk out here knowing just what we did” and even though you know when you walked out people would think you were a McLaren worker because of your outfit, you couldn’t help but feel excited walking out into the world knowing you had just done what you did with thee Oscar Piastri. 

Oscar is fully back in your mouth again, hash breaths and tiny moans are coming from the man above you. Bobbing your head up and down you try your best to fully take his entire length. It was hand because he was stretching your mouth so wide with his thickness. You focus your tongue at the head, swirling and moving your tongue back and forth at the spot the connects the tip to the base. That brings out the biggest moan from him. You immediately look up to see his eyes are shut close and his lip looks like it’s about to start bleeding from how hard he’s biting it.

Continuing to focus on the head, you bring your hand down to his balls and cup them. You softly rub and massage them. You knew once you did this Oscar would finish soon.

“Want you to fuck my mouth, want to feel it for days after you leave London, want to remember how good you fuck my throat” you say to him with eyes that were begging.

“Are you sure baby? Don’t want to hurt you”

“If you hurt me I’ll slap your thigh, but trust me I want this”

He nods and grabs the back of your head to place you back on his cock. He starts slow, hand loosely grabbing the back of your head, guiding you softly. You try to relax your throat, because soon he starts to pick up his pace. Instead of the soft hold, he is harshly grabbing your hair, using it to move you up and down. You do your best to still use your tongue despite Oscar moving you at a very fast pace. 

“Fuck I’m gonna come soon” he whispers

You knew he was close to the edge by the way the thick vein on the underside of his cock was throbbing. You look up at him the best as you could and nod, hoping he got the message to finish in your mouth. In all honesty, you wanted him to come all over your face but you still had to walk through the paddock to his car. 

His hips start to stutter and he stops moving your head, arms fallen to his side. He lets out a loud groan and you feel the warm white liquid flood your mouth. You swallow and open your mouth to show him. He also groans at this, cupping your face he bring you up to connect you both in a kiss. It was a sweet kiss, no tongue, nothing crazy, just sweet.

You smile at him and stand up, you know you are drenched but you didnt want to do anything else in this room. Oscar may be able to be quite, but there so guarantee with you.

“Want me to eat you out” Oscar asked with his face in your neck as you sat next to him. 

“No, you can fuck me later if you are up for it, but we should be going soon, the food is probably going to be delivered before we get there”

He nods “Where did you learn to talk like that” Oscar asks as he puts on his new pair of boxers.

“I don’t know what you mean, I was just speaking the truth” you wink.

He gives you a uhhuh look and continues to get dressed. You look at yourself in the mirror and you don’t completely look disheveled. The slight redness on your cheek was still there but you wanted that. You dug in Oscar’s bag for a piece of gum and popped it in your mouth. You both get ready in silence. As you are about to leave you stop him.

“You do know I am genuinely proud of you, and I can’t wait to see how much you grow and succeed, I love you.” You say and kiss his cheek. 

“I love you too, you are the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend ever, I can’t wait for people know you are mine”

Something overcame you. You grab his hand and nod, if someone finds out and spreads it, you could care less. You were tired of hiding this. You see the smile and lead the way out of the drivers room.

Hand in hand you both walked down the paddock, you were proud of your boyfriend. No more being scared. He deserves this and more. His hand was warm and you knew everything was right. You had no doubt in your mind that next season you would both be back here but celebrating a podium instead. 

♡♡♡♡

[lunarw0rks]

Angst Drabble where task 141 thinks reader was KIA but they just being held captive and was probably tortured until reader escaped?

☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ we buried you

warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical violence, torture mention, blood/injury, medical procedures, hurt/comfort, gn!reader ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box

you already looked dead and felt it even more. bloodied, beaten, and deprived of proper food and water for weeks. but you had your chance to escape; one chance, a slim one.

your captors' facility had been raided — before they could restrict you to a chair again. the man who was in charge had been dropped through one of the windows, and the commotion in the prison's corridors was too chaotic for anyone to hear the faint gunshot.

the ringing, and feeling of water trapped in your ears — it was a blessing given all the overstimulating chaos. no one was looking for you, not while they were defending their compound.

you lifted your head from your blank stare in your lap once you heard the heavy thump of his body. you crawled to the warden's corpse, fingering the speak button on his radio, but your vision was too doubled to focus. on top of it, you weren't sure you could speak. you gave up on that the second day into imprisonment. no words resulted in punishment, but so did the use of them. it was a double-edged sword of anguish.

it was now or never; any longer and you would catch an infection or bleed out from your injuries.

to find his gun, you would have to roll the weight of a grown man onto his stomach. maybe last week, before you sustained a broken rib you would've. but now? you could do nothing except stagger through the empty corridors with his keycard, deadened eyes doing little to observe a threat.

the luminance of the afternoon sun nearly knocked you down, an achy forearm raised to block the sheer brightness of the star. your best course of action was to keep moving towards the sounds of friendlies; now was not the time to be the hero you were trained to be.

it was a desert area, only adding to the dryness in your throat and eyes. the distant voices of soldiers, British ones grew louder as you advanced down the valley, eventually seeing a tank in view. what sounded like an officer or general, his shouts were interrupted by the downright grisly sight you were. a military undershirt matching his and your undergarments — crimson stains in the fabric, your skin, the cuts and gashes, bruises big and tiny, sunken and hopeless features.

❝don't move an inch!❞ he bellows despite you already stopped in your tracks, bare feet blistering against the torrid sand. it was only fair in a land full of terrorism — assuming anyone could be an enemy. his men raised their rifles as the officer approached steadily, the force of his squad as backup.

the keycard smears with your bloody fingertips fell to the sand before you turned your arm to him, flashing your only chance at getting back to your men; an insignia for the 141 across that traveled down your forearm.

his gaze softened as he gripped the tender flesh of your arm, inspecting the ink tattered by injury. he gives it a harsh rub with a wetted finger — but the tattoo is very real.

your legs buckled beneath you once you knew you were safe as if your broken body could only stay upright for minutes under the sizzling sun. you crumpled against the sand, eyes droopy and about to clench shut.

the last of the commotion you heard was the officer speaking frantically into his comms — and most notable, a familiar name. captain price.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

❝bleeding christ...❞ price muttered as you wheeled past him limp on a gurney. you were supposed to be KIA, buried and dead for months now. your comms had been lost, and everyone else in that transport didn't make it. but you were here, and barely breathing.

how you managed to stand, let alone remain lucid enough to identify yourself to British forces, he couldn't comprehend it. however, your captain wasn't surprised — you were tough as nails.

the medics worked tirelessly; wrapping you in cooling blankets, inserting a central line, IVs pumping fluid, and a feeding tube to slow feed you until your gut could handle nutrients again.

for hours; they induced your slumber, some much-needed shuteye as the lines and medications did their work on you. though you hadn't been moving much, your attempts at speaking and panicked looks around the medbay were inhibiting your ability to rest. but right now, your shallow breaths were like a living miracle.

you survived and made your escape out of sheer willpower — no one would forget this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

soap was the first to sit with you, reading from a sports magazine. his logic? if you're up and bickering with him again, that means you're alright. your eyes would flutter open for seconds at a time, a small frown pointed at your chatty visitor, then they would shut again for hours. anything was better than nothing.

gaz and ghost only visited through the window into the medbay, a few minutes of observing your bruised body before they forced themselves to move along. or the captain did. the world couldn't stop for you, as much as he wanted them all to be there for you when you were lucid.

it was captain price that was. he gave the other three a light assignment, something that would keep the trio occupied for a few hours.

after what seemed like two days of medicated slumber, your eyes finally opened fully. you stared down at the stitches all over you, the soft cast around your wrist. most of all, the achy feeling is still ever-persistent despite the sedatives.

❝captain?❞ you croaked in a weak and emotional tone. you weren't in that prison, you were in the 'comfort' of a medbay. perhaps it was the drugs or the hell you had been through, but you were near tears.

his hand outstretched, a palm resting on one of the few uninjured bits of flesh on your arms. ❝you did it, kid. you... made it.❞ price's tone was soothing and low, like that of a parent consoling their maimed child.

what you had been through, he didn't need to know. he didn't ever want to picture it. what mattered most was that you were here and that you had proved yourself in the most heartbreaking sense.

he finds his pocket, pulling out his cell. ❝i have make a call to laswell. i can ask the others to visit if you'd like?❞ price asks softly, eyes remaining on you as he dials the number.

whether you wanted to see the rest of them right now or not, that was your decision. you earned it.

[der7py]

Yandere Radio host x reader

Victor Rodriguez was the most popular radio host there was to date! He had late night talks shows, was always on the evening and morning radio, and was super charismatic! Only problem? He didn't have a co-star. But you'd make a lovely co-star.

Warnings: Mature language, addresses being leaked (only to yandere), stalking, car tampering, hero complex, mentions of abusive households

You swear that Victor was always on the air! Day and night, on every station. You could've sworn nobody listened to radio anymore! But apparently, with this new hotshot, everybody did now.

It's not that you disliked the man. He didn't do anything wrong. Surprisingly, unlike other radio hosts, he wasn't that boastful. But you were just sick of hearing him all the damn time.

Eventually, you tuned in (your friends wanted you to listen to him for once), and you made the mistake of accidentally calling in.

"Hello, this is Victor Rodriguez speaking! Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?" Oh wow, he answered the radio like it was just a normal contact in his phone!

You two had a surprising, really meaningful conversation! He didn't talk over you, poke fun at you for his listeners, and actually remembered things about you in the short time you talked.

You actually emailed him (he has a work email), and he responded back! You two emailed for a bit before exchanging numbers since you had made plans to hang out with him!

_______________________

Shit! You were running late! Your car just wouldn't start, and now you don't even know if he's still there. But before you could call a mechanic, a black car pulled into your driveway, and a very concerned Victor immediately jumped out of his car. "Are you okay? You didn't show up for a while, and I was worried if you got into an accident!" You felt your face heat up and start to turn pink. No man had ever done what he did. Usually, they just got impatient and left at the first minute. But Victor... he actually went looking for you. To make sure you were safe.

"Yeah sorry, my car just won't fucking start." You explained, pointing at your car which was a pretty old model. Victor cocked his head, peering into the car, before looking back at you. "You got tools so we can pop the hood up? Maybe it's the engine." What happened next you had no control over. It was magic even. You opened the hood, grabbed a toolbox out of your garage, and handed it to him. In the next 30 minutes, he had fixed whatever problem your car had.

Victor turned back to look at you with a goofy smile, and you swore your heart was moving a mile too fast. "All done! But the ice cream parlor is probably closing by now. Do you wanna just hang out here?" He asked, and you nodded your head immediately. It was surprisingly a really nice day with him! You both had a cookout, lounged in the sun, and even had a water balloon fight. You were having so much fun, you let one thing slip your mind.

How the hell did he know where you lived.

_______________________

Okay, so maybe he has every caller's address show to him and only him so he can stay safe. It's not his fault! He didn't know if his step-dad was still looking for him.

After he ran away from his abusive household (promising his mother and little siblings, he'd come back and save them from his step-dad's wrath), he immediately got picked up from a small radio station who needed a new radio host after the last one quit.

Clearly, he was better than what he expected because now he had worked his way up to the top radio station and was on nearly every channel!

So when you called in, he just expected a regular old caller, like always. But you... you were different. You actually talked to him. You made him feel alive in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he may have copied your address down just in case he needed to give you a surprise visit, but hey, who's really paying attention? Not him, and apparently not you either cause you did not have a care in the world when he showed up at your house.

You didn't even know that your car was perfectly fine the night before. But it's okay! Because he got to come to the rescue when your car wouldn't start! Even if he was the one who fucked up your engine so he could play hero.

But it's fine! Cause you didn't care, and let him play the hero. You let him be your savior! And that was perfect for him. You were perfect.

Just let him keep playing the hero. You need a hero in this world with someone as perfect as you. Just keep tuning in, and let him save you.

[think-like-a-poet]

hey could you write about Carlos Sainz. Y/N is a 24 year old Spanish journalist and she and Carlos flirt all the time in front of the camera and Lando and Charles make fun of Carlos because he is always looking forward to doing an interview with Y/N ​​because they flirt hard every time. two that on twitter they created a hashtag on the flirting moments between y/n and carlos

Behind The Camera

Carlos Sainz x Spanish Journalist fem!reader

A/N: I hope this is wat you meant. I never worked with these fake apps before, so don't pay too much attention to dates and times.

One of the flirting scenes is highly based on that one Sebastian Vettel interview.

The paddock was buzzing with people from all around the world. Grand stands were filled with the colors of different teams and drivers. There were big crowds of orange for the hometown heroes, Max verstappen and Lando Norris.

Cheers were heard as Carlos crossed the finish line in p2, just behind his teammate and in front of his old one. The red bull had crashed out of the race after the touch when Sergio Perez tried to overtake the Dutch man. Unfortunately both of the cars tuned into each other, moving Carlos up to third. After the pitstops he had managed to do an undercut on the Mclaren driver and finished on the second podium place.

"That is P2, mate. Good job," his race engineer congratulated him through the radio, prompting Carlos to let out an excited scream.

"Vamos!" he exclaimed, parking his car in front of the P2 sign and stepping out with a wide grin on his face. Charles stood on top of his own car, proudly displaying one finger in the air to signify his win. Carlos congratulated his fellow driver on the victory before turning to his team and embracing them in a warm hug, celebrating their shared success. It is a good day for the Ferrari fans and that didn't happen often.

.

"Congratulations Carlos on your p2. How are you feeling?" You ask with a bright smile on your face. You always loved interviewing Carlos. He is always really nice and you have nice conversations behind the cameras. Also a plus point that he drives for your favorite team.

"Great now that you are here," he answers, his eyes twinkling as he gives you a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. You have to try hard not to blush at the man's charming comment. "It's a great day for the team with a 1-2 finish. I hope we have more of these moments to come."

"You were absolutely flying out there today. Your performance was outstanding. I am sure that you have more of these moments. "

Carlos smiles at your words, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you. The car felt great and the team did a great job with the undercut." He had been looking forward to seeing you today after he heard you will do the podium post race interviews. Lets just say he had some extra motivation for this race.

"With the undercut you managed to get in front of Lando. Was it difficult to keep him behind?"

"Of course. He is a great driver and their car is very fast. He really had me concentrate those last laps. " Carlos looks back at where Lando was standing next to the race winner. Lando gave him a little smile for the comment.

"The safety car came at a good moment and you got a free pit from it. Do you think you could have had the same pace with the old ones?"

"The safety car did come at a great time. I was struggling with the tyres and really wanted to switch them. The team said I couldn't because then I had to drive out the race for the remaining laps and that was too many. So having an extra free stop really helped. "

"Any plans for after the race. How are you going to celebrate it?"

"I am sure there is a party planned already. Good thing is that it is summer holiday and we don't need to do training wasted." He jokes and you let out a laugh.

"Sounds great. Have any plans for the summer break? How are you going to spend your free time? "

"Well, What are your plans?" He smirks and you have to take a second to let your mind take in his comment. You want to play to game with him, but chose to be professional and do as if you don't get the hint.

"Nice of you to ask. I'm heading back to Spain to visit some family," you reply, trying to maintain your cool exterior even as your heart races at the thought of his attention turning towards you.

"I hope I see you around then, Hermosa" Carlos says, his smirk widening as he rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that sends a jolt of desire through you. You say your goodbyes before Lando takes his place in front of your camera.

Out of your sight Charles laughs at his teammate and gives him a pat on the back, a playful smirk placed on his face.

"What?" Carlos looks at him with confused puppy eyes. He takes his water bottle and takes a sip.

"What are your plans." Charles imitates his teammates question before letting out a louder laugh that turns the head of other people. "Mate, just ask her out already. It is painful to watch you keep flirting with each other."

"I ask her what her plans are. That is just being polite."

"Alright. And when you found out she was doing the post race interviews, you didn't smile from ear to ear because you would be seeing her again?"

"She is a great journalist and my friend. "

When Lando came back from his interview with you he had made the same remark as Charles and Carlos just groaned in reply. He was not going to hear the end of it.

The fans on twitter were going wild after the interview. It wasn't the first time you and Carlos had shared some flirty comments and there were fan pages dedicated to the two of you. There was even a tag going around with all the fans favorite moments of you two together that you weren't aware of.

Lando laughs as he opens twitter. He was at the celebration party after the race and he had sit down next to the two ferarri drivers after a round of shots.

" Whats so funny?" Carlos asks with a confused expresion as he tries to look at the Brits phone. Lando shows the Twitter reactions.

" Looks like you are the only blind one."

[emotionalmessss]

Diabolical Dealings

A/N: first time writing Shigaraki, I tried my best. I probably neglected Dabi a little too much and made Shigaraki absolutely disgusting. This was wayyy longer than I intended. No beta read, non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: reader is a police officer and stumbles into something she shouldn't have. Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: where do I even start lol. Heavy non-con, humiliation, implied murder, kinda violence/blood, shigaraki is gross (sorry), implied kidnapping, yandere (kinda?), spit, forced orgasm, oral, threesome. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 10.2K

A gust of wind whistled across your face, making your eyes flutter shut as dirt and stray newspapers skidded along the sidewalk. Despite the frigid air that enveloped your body within seconds - you were boiling hot. Your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, dripping over your furrowed brow and down to the pavement. It was shortly after twelve in the morning and you had just begun your nightly rounds of your assigned area. It was cold and dark. Your path is barely illuminated by the flickering street lights and LED store signs. It was only enough to see a couple yards in front of you, everything else hidden by the eerie shadows of darkness. 

There were hundreds of other things you’d rather be doing right now; staying home with a microwavable meal on your lap while you watched your favorite show was one of them. Being called in and roaming the streets was last on your list of things to do on a Friday night. 

Your phone rang an hour ago while you were occupying your time being curled up on the couch, with a hot bowl of curry beside you. You had just begun to settle down, only to get interrupted. 

You knew you had to answer when you saw the Chief’s caller ID reflect onto your gloomy face. 

Begrudgingly, you answered. His voice was stressed when he asked if you could come in for the night, explaining that there had been a few more attacks than usual tonight, and that the Heroes needed the extra hands to apprehend the villains they defeated. 

Reluctantly, you agreed. You weren’t a fan of working nights and opted for working days to lessen the hassle of transporting villains back to headquarters, where they would be dealt with before they were shipped off to Tarturus. It was a relatively easy job during the day, but the night only amplified the difficulty. With limited civilians and heroes, you had to be extra cautious.

If it wasn’t your deep admiration and dedication to the job - you would’ve said no. But alas, here you were, fulfilling your duties in the dead of night. 

“How are you holding up, (last name)?” A muffled voice filtered through your radio, startling you slightly as you reached to unclip it from your belt. 

You backed up towards a brick wall, casting a few glances around before you answered your partner. “I’m fine. Doing one final sweep before I head over to Endeavor and Jeanist.” You radioed back. “Are you alright?” 

“Relax, (last name). You’re doing great.” You thought the shake in your voice was hidden by your false sense of confidence, but your partner saw straight through the mask. “I’m catching up with Gum soon. Almost finished my rounds too.” 

You sighed, closing your eyes and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You were too tired for this shit. You wanted to meet up with Endeavor and Jeanist, sooner rather than later. They were Pros and had quirks, unlike yourself. Better yet, you just wanted to finish the assignment and retreat back to the safety of your apartment.  

“(last name)? Are you there?” He asked, your shaky hands clinging to the small device as your brain kicked back in to register his words. 

“Sorry, I’m here.” You swallowed. “That’s good. We’ll meet up later? Maybe grab a coffee after the shift change?” You perked up, knowing how desperate your body was for some liquid fuel right about now. 

“You bet your fucking ass we will. Radio me if you need anything. I’ll be around.” He buzzed out, leaving nothing but the sound of static sizzling in the air. 

You clipped your radio back to your belt, still resting against the bricks to give your tired feet a chance to recuperate. You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine. Everything is okay. You repeated the reassurances in your mind, forcing yourself to calm down. 

You pushed yourself up, brushing out the crinkles that formed in your uniform and started to press on. The sound of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement, your head turning to give quick glances down the alleyways and side streets. Nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, which seemed strange considering the Chief explicitly said tonight was unusually active. 

You chalked it up to the increased presence of the heroes, knowing that most small-time villains would avoid these areas because of them. They never lingered in one place for too long. The fear of catching the attention of a Pro and getting apprehended usually deterred them. Granted, it wasn’t out of ordinary for a smaller villain to test their luck and linger about anyways. They usually opted for petty crimes like vandalism and theft, which would make for quick escapes if needed. There was no shortage of those types, unfortunately. 

Despite this, you noticed there wasn’t much of a disturbance tonight. You certainly weren’t complaining, but the anxiety continued to gnaw in the back of your head. You were specifically on edge since there was so little happening in your area. That could mean one or two things; the heroes scared all of them away, or that there was a bigger threat lurking about. 

Villains were similar in their enjoyment of public disturbance, wreaking havoc, and causing panics. But not all Villains were the same. The ones that committed thought-out malicious crimes usually deterred the pettier Villains. There’s always bigger fish in the ocean.           

But what would you know? You weren’t an expert, but you had picked up on a few things from your years in the field. Your skilled understanding of villains kept you alive, but you weren’t going to gamble with it.  

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You repeated, changing the subject in your mind to something a little more pragmatic. You weren’t about to ruin your streak of luck with your panicked thoughts. You continued on, looking forward to the coffee stop you promised your partner. You hoped that when you met up with Endeavor and Jeanist, that they’d just send you off home, but those chances were slim. 

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You hummed to yourself as you rounded a corner, poking your head out to give a quick check. 

“I’m not wasting my time on these pieces of trash. They make for better kindling than recruits.” You heard a deep voice rasp from afar. The sound came from afar and echoed off the tall brick walls, which made it even more difficult to distinguish.  

A civilian? You thought, furrowing your brows. Maybe? But why would they be wandering in an alley at this time of night? They didn’t sound too friendly either. You gripped onto the edge of the wall, tilting your head in the direction of the barely audible voice. 

“Can’t be surprised, this world is rotting from the inside and it makes me sick.” The second voice was higher pitched and much more strained than the first. 

Your subconscious must have realized that they were a threat before your mind could, because you felt a tingle run down your spine and goosebumps crawl up your neck. Definitely not friendly.  

You could hear the first man scoff and what sounded like footsteps, but nothing else. It appeared that they were retreating deeper into the alley to continue their conversation. You weren’t too keen on the idea of finding out where they were going - or what they were doing. Deciding that it was better to not push your luck, you backed away from the entrance and reached for your radio. 

You weren’t a detective, and you weren’t about to start acting like one just because you were curious. You needed to radio your partner and inform him immediately on what you stumbled upon, even if you weren’t sure what you found. They could just be some lowly villains, but you had a protocol to follow. 

Moving further away from the opening and deeming yourself to be at a safe distance, you pulled out your radio. 

“Sam?” You whispered, bringing the device up with shaky fingers. “Are you there?” 

There was a hiss of static in response and you slapped your palm over the speaker. 

“Sam?” You asked again, your voice sounding a little more desperate as you waited for a response. It couldn’t be helped, but you were beginning to feel a little anxious. It wasn’t like him to leave you hanging like this, especially for a night like this. He made it a habit to always pick up when you called. 

There was an off chance that he was caught up in dealing with something, but you wanted nothing more than to hear him say anything. You rested your forehead on the tips of your fingers, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind wanted to be rational with the thoughts, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of worry at his silence. 

Swallowing hard, you decided this was something you were going to have to deal with later. It would be better off to ignore the rest of your sweep and just meet back up later. “If you can hear this, I’m making my way back over to everyone. There w-” 

A sudden burst of blue flame erupted from the alley beside you, catching you off guard and forcing a scream out of your throat. Your radio slipped from your fingers and crashed onto the pavement, cracking from the blow. You narrowly dodged the attack - your legs reacting before your mind could even fully process the situation.You hit the ground hard but corrected yourself by rolling onto your knees and into a crouching stance. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as it started to pump faster at the wall of fire next to you. If you were a few seconds slower, then your entire side would have been fried. 

The muscles in your chest grew tight with each breath, forcing you into a state of hyperventilation. Move. Now! Your nerves ignited with a fury of terror and forced you out of your frozen state. You scrambled to your feet in less than a second and bolted down the sidewalk without a second thought. Heroes. Get to the heroes. You no longer cared about how loud your footsteps were, since whoever attacked you knew exactly where you had been. You were positive that if they wanted to kill you, they would’ve. They wanted you to run, and you were going to do just that. 

If it weren’t for the fear, you surely would have collapsed. You never ran faster in your life till now and you didn’t stop, even when your lungs started to burn and ache. You had to keep going. That fire quirk was a long ranged attack, which was bad as is. You didn’t want to waste time dwelling on catching your breath. 

The muscles in your legs strained as you bolted down the sidewalk, pumping them as fast as they would allow. Your breathing was uneven, borderline hyperventilating due to your climbing fear. The adrenaline was enough to keep you going, passing by several side streets and alleys as you tried to put some distance between yourself and your assailant. 

You wiped your eyes, which were stinging with sweat and momentarily blinding you. 

“Where ya’ going in such a rush, doll?” The voice sounded bored, uninterested really. 

You skidded to a stop, feet sliding against the pavement in attempts to slow yourself. Your gaze moved up to follow where the sound was coming from, noticing a man resting lazily against an alleyway entrance. Your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a surprised puff of air. You were not expecting the man to catch up to you so quickly, let alone be in front of you. This certainly took you by surprise and you felt yourself take a precautionary step backwards.

He held out a singular finger with a blue flame hovering at the tip of it, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the subtle glow. You could barely make out his features, only a hint of light being emitted from his index. You did, however, notice the textured skin that was stapled together with the living skin. It couldn’t be. You thought as another wave of panic rushed over you. 

He must have noticed your realization because you saw him smirk wildly before extinguishing the flame in his fist. 

Engulfed in darkness, you turned and sprinted away. Your body once again acted on impulse as you ducked into the alley beside you. No. You weren’t going to die. You thought. This wasn’t going to be your end. You promised your partner that you would have coffee together. You promised to visit your parents more. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going to die . 

With as much speed as your body could handle, you ran deeper into the dark unknown. You knew that you had to get back to the Pros, but whether or not you’d be able to was inconclusive. Your main focus was escaping, but it seemed easier said than done. Nonetheless, you carried on, jumping over stray bags of garbage and debris. 

The sound of your thumping footsteps were loud, but your heart hammering against your rib cage was even louder. The organ pumped viciously to fuel your aching limbs with blood, even reaching up to thud in your ear canal. It was only when your eyes landed on a second shadow emerging from the darkness that you spun back around. No. This wasn’t happening. Your feet slid out from under you at the sudden movement, but you quickly corrected yourself, spinning on your heels and darting back towards the mouth of the alley. You ran blindly, in hopes of getting away from both assailants.  

You glanced back, noting the shadow stalking after you. No. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking his time chasing you. His pace was slow and intimidating, purposely drawing out every ounce of fear that he could produce from you. It was only then when you realized your mistake. Your attention returned to the freedom which was illuminated by the flickering street lights. You were just shy of reaching it, maybe a few meters or so. You can do this.  The dim light faded as a large figure stepped in front of it, blocking the exit and causing you to gasp. Fuck! Your body was moving fast - too fast for you to stop yourself in time.  

The man made no sound as you collided head on with his body, dull pain shot up your chest, making you yell out in surprise. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, fear fuelling your body into clawing and fighting back. His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer, holding you still against him. His other hand grabbed a hold of your flailing wrist, keeping it planted against his chest in some sort of stance that could only be compared to two lovers embracing. 

“Let go of me!” You whined, only to feel his grip tighten. 

You looked up at him with widened eyes, finally getting a good view of him. You really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes scanned over his face, noting all the scar tissue he had beneath his eyes and along his jawline. The damaged skin was stapled together with the healthy parts, creating some sort of ugly patchwork job. It was also the first time you had been this close to him, and you never realized just how warm he actually was. He heated your skin up like a furnace, warmth seeping out of his clothes and into yours. 

Dabi. You heard about him, or rather, read. His pictures were plastered all over the newspapers in Japan. 

One side of his lips curled upwards as he looked down his nose at you. You couldn’t tell if he was smirking or snarling at you, but you didn’t really care. You began writhing in his grasp. You kicked at his shins and punched his chest with your free hand, attempting to twist out of his hold. 

He didn’t even flinch at your attacks, his only reaction was to laugh at you. His chest rumbled as he kept you pinned, sending a wave of nausea up to your throat. Your face twisted up in anguish, gasping as you placed a hand onto his chest to shove him off. He was hot. So hot . 

“Let go of me!” You repeated again.  

Seeing how your punches weren’t doing much - you opted for crying out and raking your nails down his chest, catching and pulling on his staples. This time, he let out a low hiss and let go of your waist, moving to grab your other wrist to stop your assault. 

“Aren’t you a little treat.” He rasped. His eyes narrowed down to yours, turquoise orbs watching as you tried to take a step back, so you were no longer touching him. He didn’t seem to care for your distaste, knowing that there wasn’t anything for you to do. 

You gave him a frightened look, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. You had seen him in the newspapers before, but he was even more terrifying up close. His staples reflected in the moonlight, and his eyes were practically glowing. While he was looking at you with a lazy expression - you could see hints of something you couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Boredom?   There wasn’t much time for you to contemplate your next moves, because he was already spinning you around. His chest pressed into your back, while your arms were twisted across your torso, effectively pinning you. 

It took you a couple seconds to stabilize yourself, blinking rapidly as you tried to adjust your swaying vision. The fear crawled up your esophagus, threatening to drown you as you became overwhelmed with terror. Calm. Calm. You repeated in your head. Slipping into a panic attack would do little good in your situation, but managing your nervous system was always a challenging task.  

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Dabi’s words provided you no comfort - instead, adding fuel to your hysterics. 

Your attention snapped back to the end of the alley when you heard a second set of footsteps approaching. Dabi and your fear kept you facing forward as the second figure sauntered towards you. Pale blue shaggy hair was the first thing you noticed, along with the vibrant red shoes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness. You couldn’t really see his eyes, which were blocked by his mop of hair, but you knew that he was staring right at you. His steps reverberated around you - each syllable striking more fear in your heart. It felt like you were counting down the moments to your demise, unable to stop the shiver rolling down your spine. Instinctively, you inched backwards, a pitiful attempt of escape that only drew you closer into Dabi. Your back pressed into his chest, so close that you could feel every grove and staple on him. 

The man in front continued honing in on the two of you with precision and intent. Granted, you would have fought sooner if you weren’t so trapped in a daze. However, as the figure became clearer in your line of sight - your eyes settled upon his arms, which were covered by hands that were severed at the wrist. Shigaraki. Reality came crashing down on your head like a ton of bricks. Your nerves coming back with a vengeance - lighting up with such a ferocious drive that you bucked back into Dabi. 

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mouse.” Shigaraki snickered. He halted his movements, hands placed inside his pockets as he studied you. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, as if he were trying to gauge whether or not you were truly a threat. With your cowering expression and quivering form - it was obvious that you weren’t. You were a poor little cop, just trying to get through a shift, and had the back luck of stumbling into something you shouldn’t have. Stupid girl. 

You knew the full extent of how much danger you were in right now, the terror creeping into your bloodstream and controlling every aspect of your being. No matter how many hours of briefing and training you had received, you couldn’t ever be prepared enough to handle this. Part of you prayed that your partner - no, the Heroes - would come to your rescue. You knew this wasn’t a situation you could handle on your own, it never was to begin with. 

Beneath the mess of hair, his red eyes were almost glowing as looked down at you, mixing with both disinterest and disgust.You inched back slightly, as if the few centimeters would actually protect you from whatever they were going to do. It was a weak attempt that only drew you closer to Dabi - who merely glanced down his nose at you.

Dabi could practically feel the terror radiate off you as he held you, knowing fully that you were thinking of every possible outcome. He noticed you had been shaking before, but with Shigaraki closing the distance on you, your body was almost vibrating as you pushed yourself flush against him. It was entertaining in a sense - you were so scared of Shigaraki that you resorted to gluing onto him for refuge.     

“I don’t think she likes you very much. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Dabi bent down closer to you as he spoke, but his words were not intended for you, instead they were directed at Shigaraki. 

“Are you scared of Shigaraki, doll?” You can feel his nose prod into the side of your head as he continues to taunt you. 

Your body stiffens but you don’t give him a response. You were absolutely horrified. But you feared that displaying any more emotion would further instigate the situation. You could only pray that they just wanted to freak you out a bit, and then hopefully let you go. However, the instincts in your gut and the way they were both looking at you told you otherwise. 

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? ” Shigaraki caught your attention as he scratched his neck, eyes boring down onto yours. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to stare back, watching as his blunt nails raked down the dry skin of his neck. “She brought this on herself by meddling in things that don’t concern her.” He looked up to Dabi for a brief second, silently communicating something you couldn’t understand till the last moment. 

Oh, no. You repressed a shudder as Shigaraki looked back down at you, the scar on his lips twitching as he smirked.  

Before you could respond - or even blink for that matter, Dabi released your arms and shoved you towards his leader. Your arms shot out in attempts to brace yourself as your feet tripped up beneath you, unable to keep pace with the sudden force. A tiny gasp slipped past your lips as you fell forward and into Shigaraki. This is it . You thought. Your eyes slammed shut as you awaited for the embrace of death, expecting to be turned to dust as soon as he touched you.  

But you didn’t. 

Instead, you found his arms encircled around your waist, pinkies raised to prevent the accidental use of his quirk. You let out a puff of air as your cheek sandwiched against his chest, instantly engulfed with the odor of musk. With your arms completely immobilized between his body and yours - you couldn’t pry yourself away. 

“Please. Let me go. I d-didn’t hear or see anything.” You sucked in a shaky breath as you began to plead for mercy. Inadvertently, you sniffed the material that you were pressed against, letting out a strangled cough at the rancid smell that belonged to Shigaraki. Your face scrunched up with such distaste and anguish that even Dabi noticed. 

“She really doesn’t like you, eh? Just look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke.” Dabi chuckled at your expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.  

You peered back at the flame Villain, almost as if you were trying to beg him to help. Silently, you tried to bargain for your life, casting a teary-eyed glance to Dabi. You knew this was futile, but you were willing to do just about anything to get away from Shigaraki and his destructive hands. Dabi barely gave you a second look, but knew instantly what you were trying to do. He kept his face impassive as he ignored your non-verbal pleas. There was no way he was going to help you in any way. 

You whimpered, turning away when you realized there would be no sympathy from him. Obviously. Instead, you managed to press your palms flat and hard into Shigaraki’s stomach, pushing lightly in hopes of creating some much needed distance between your body and his. 

“Is that right?” Shigaraki hummed and jerked you closer to him, seeing your fight as merely an annoyance rather than a threat. Your elbows buckled and you crashed into his body again. “The pretty little cop wants to get away from the disgusting villain?” He gritted as he felt the side of his neck prickle with an itch, the anger beginning to surface at your obvious revulsion of him. 

He’d gotten used to the disgusted and false pity stares that society condemned him to - but there was something about your pretentious attitude that irked and made him itch incessantly. The pitiful look on your face reminded him a little too much of how corrupt this world was and how much he wanted to destroy it all. It was clear to him that you absentmindedly aligned yourself with the same views of the Heroes - like a little puppy, blindly following orders from its master. Shigaraki’s thoughts were cruel as he conjured up ways to make you squeal like the pig you were. 

With a sadistic grin, his fingers reach towards your chin, gripping it between his thumb and index before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You noticed he had rings of dry skin around his red eyes and lips, which were peeling, cracked, and had a scar straight across. It had to be a side effect of his quirk - something his body used as a coping mechanism. The sight of him brought you no comfort as you tried to wiggle out of his hold again, pushing at his torso with your palms when he lowered his head to your ear. 

“Careful now. You wouldn’t want all my fingers to accidentally touch you with all that squirming, now would you?” He drummed his fingers against your waist, timing it perfectly so that all five of his pale fingers wouldn’t come into contact with you. “It’s not a nice way to go, officer. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Your blood ran cold as you stilled yourself, paralyzed by his words and the feeling of his fingers thudding carefully against you. With one simple change in rhythm, you’d be dead. The thought of your life dangling in the arms of a murdering psychopath didn’t do any good for your state of mind. And neither did the sudden feeling of his lips pressing into your hair, which had come undone from its usual ponytail - thick locks tumbling out to frame your pretty face. 

“Oh, god. Please, just let me go.” You whispered, wide-eyed and begging.  

Shigaraki snickered at your frozen form and took his opportunity in making you feel uncomfortable. His nose poked against the side of your head as he took a deep breath in, shuddering at both the scent of your lingering shower products and your soft mewl of desperation. 

“I radioed my partner and he knows where I am. He’ll be here any minute now with backup. Please, let me go and no one has to get hurt.” You found yourself using a new tactic, one you hoped would buy you your freedom.  

Shigaraki snorted, blowing a puff of air into your hair. “Radio?” 

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same one I saw a few blocks back would it, doll?” Dabi spoke up suddenly. “The shattered one?” He teased with a knowing smile. 

Your body stiffened in Shigaraki’s arms and you swallowed. “Yes, that’s the one. It's a protocol for all of us to be in constant communication about our whereabouts. He knows exactly where I am.” You lied smoothly, keeping your face as neutral as you could. 

“I don’t think your partner, or anyone for that matter, will be coming for ya’.” Dabi pressed on, leaning lazily against the bricks as he eyed you. 

“You’re wrong. Sam will be-” You made the unfortunate mistake of saying his name, too wound up to stop yourself in time.  

Shigaraki started laughing suddenly, pulling his face away from you as he let out an unhinged cackle. Confusion washed over your features and you paused, unnerved by the high pitched sound from above you. 

“Saving you? Is that what you think?” Shigaraki’s voice was lowering in pitch as he calmed himself from his laughter. “You poor thing.” He mocked. “He couldn’t even save himself. It’s pathetic if you ask me!”

Within seconds, your demeanor had morphed into complete and utter hysterics upon hearing those words. You shook your head violently, fat tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you tried to come to grips with reality. 

“What? No. You’re lying. That can’t be…” You whispered as your head began to swirl with apprehension.  

“Did you wanna know how Sam cried and begged for his life before I decayed him? Choking and clawing at his own throat.” Shigaraki continued, his lips pulling into a manic smile as he watched the tears roll down your cheeks. 

“You’d think someone sworn to protect and serve the public would put up more of a fight, but no!” He took the chance to mock your employment motto with glee, shuddering at your look of despair. 

“Geez, you really are an ass.” Dabi mumbled with a roll of his eyes. Whether or not Dabi thought Shigaraki was pushing you too far was irrelevant, because in his own twisted sense - he was enjoying it. 

Shigaraki was too occupied by your suffering to pay Dabi any mind. 

“You’re fucking insane! He was a good-” 

“Good or bad, you and heroes still thrive on violence, just like us. Only difference being that the Heroes are filled with empty ideologies and a false sense of justice that make them foolishly believe that they’re society’s guardians. it's disgusting .” His voice ascended in pitch as he spit the words out like they were poison. 

You had been staring blindly at your feet as Shigaraki tormented you with his words. Despite your unmoving stance, your vision swam and clouded with tears. You could barely keep yourself upright as you tried to clear your head. It felt like you were drowning. The muscles in your throat tightened with each swallow. Gone, your partner was gone. Every fiber in your body wanted you to run, scream, and cry, but you remained still and unmoving. 

Oddly enough, the sadness in your body began to shift into something more akin to rage. It felt like the switch inside your brain had flipped and you were overwhelmed with cool, shivering hatred. It was all too much. Shigaraki’s hands are still grasping onto you and Dabi’s cool eyes are studying you, but you feel a drift from your body, as if you were just an onlooker. 

Murderers. They were murderers.  

For the first time in your life, you felt your resolve crumble. You wanted them dead. You wanted them to suffer. They didn’t deserve to be walking and breathing, when your partner was a pile of dust in one of these alleys. He didn’t deserve to die, but they did .  

“All quiet now aren’t-” 

“What would a villain know about justice? You murdered an innocent man!” You spat, craning your neck to glare right at him. Shigaraki glanced back down at you, not expecting you to speak. “Destruction follows everywhere you go; killing, stealing, and thriving on fear you cause. And you’re delusional enough to think we’re disgusting?” You hissed up at him with so much anger that your body shook. “We protect-” 

You screeched when a hand weaved through your hair, suddenly jolting your head back to an unnatural angle. Your neck strained in this position, feeling as if the bones would snap if you didn’t follow his movements. Your pupils blew wide as Shigaraki leered over you and seethed with anger, his extended pinky shaking as he looked to be fighting the urge to dust you. His jaw was clenched as his wild eyes locked onto you. Still angry, you repressed the urge to spit in his face. 

“It seems like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. You better tread carefully bitch, I’ve killed people for less.” He sneered as his grip tightened to make his point. “You’re stuck living in a fairy tale, unable to see the corruption and rot that your system has caused.” Droplets of spit hit your face as he spoke, rutting his hips against your own to gain back the upperhand in this situation. He wasn’t about to let some idiotic brat like you outsmart him. No. He was the one in charge here. He had all the power. And he was going to make sure you knew it.   

Dabi sighed, wanting to speak up before Shigaraki lost complete control and decided to dust you. “The Heroes will fall from their pedestals, even if we have to knock them down one by one.” 

You kept your eyes locked with Shigaraki, challenging him silently. You were certainly playing with fire right now, but your mouth was operating on its own accord, not even the lingering threat of turning to dust able to stop the words from coming out. 

“The only ones who will fall are y-” 

Your voice cut short as Shigaraki sloppily collided his mouth with yours. The awkward action took you by surprise and you gasped against him. Instantly, you were swarmed with his stale breath and cracked lips, planting your fists onto his chest to push him away. He groaned into you and you could tell he was unskilled by the way he messily moved his lips and prodded you with his tongue. The kiss was wet and warm, liquid building up in your tear ducts as you squirmed violently. You had emotional whiplash at the situation, as you were positive he was itching to kill you just a few moments ago, and now he was slobbering all over your mouth. 

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard . The skin broke beneath the pressure, your mouth immediately filling up with the bitter taste of his blood as it pooled onto your tongue. 

Shigaraki released your hair with a feral growl. It was his turn to be surprised at your brazen behavior, stepping back slightly as his fingers touched his chin before examining the liquid dribbling down his chin. 

You glared back at him and against your better nature, you spat the remaining blood in your mouth, hitting the pavement near his feet. “You’re nothing but a petulant little child - crying and whining when you don’t get your way. It’s pathetic.” You hissed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.   

Shigaraki looked at you through rage filled eyes. He should have expected this reaction from you, but figured that you were more bark than actual bite. His chest rising and falling at a pace that indicated he was ready to kill. He could feel every nerve in his body buzzing with adrenaline and anger, aching to pounce and watch your body crumble to dust. Oh, he was going to make you regret that.  

“You’re in trouble now, little bitch. I’ll bring you to heel like I should’ve done from the start.” His lips pulled back into a snarl as he stepped forward. 

You could see the malicious glee radiate from his darkened gaze, forcing you to take a step back to avoid it. He could’ve caught you in a mere second, but he found pleasure in your look of anger quickly turning into fear as he matched your retreating steps. Shigaraki could practically feel the anxiety coming off your body in waves, sending a sickening shudder down his back. He didn’t usually find pleasure in anything besides destruction and death, but there was something about you that made him want to savor this - despite your bratty demeanor and fake brave facade. 

He giggled - high pitched and threatening as he advanced on your trembling form. He never found close contact to particularly be one of his favorites, but he’d make an exception just for you. Shigaraki knew there was no escape for you, which was emphasized by Dabi creeping forwards. 

“Get away from me, freak!” You shrieked out of surprise, too focused on Shigaraki closing in on you to notice that Dabi had settled behind you again. 

He wasn’t going to let crusty have all the fun, that just wouldn’t do.    

“Ah, ah ah. You aren’t thinking of running again are you, doll?” Dabi rasped and you instinctively spun around to face him, meeting his crooked smirk with a grimace of your own. 

Dabi stepped forward suddenly, and you stumbled back, brain swimming before you realized Shigaraki was directly behind you now. He took this opportunity to catch you by the collar of your uniform, all five fingers coming into contact with the soft fabric. The material instantly began to unravel and disintegrate into thin air, leaving you in nothing but your bra and a thin layer of dust. 

“What are you doing!” You cried out, backing away into the wall between them. Your hands covered your chest in attempts to protect your modesty. Your breathing only escalated at this point, your bare chest doing little to hide the rise and fall of your panicked state.

Both men scan over you, but it's the feral look in Shagaraki’s eyes that scare you the most. You back against the wall, leaning away as he takes slow paces towards you. He hated you, you knew that, but there was a lingering appearance of longing hidden deep within his crimson eyes. It was terrifying when he was angry, since it was so clearly displayed, but this was something completely different. This lustful expression was chilling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

Shigaraki continued until he was only a few inches in front of you, his ebony fingers reaching out to touch your face. His gaze followed the swell of your breasts for a moment, before settling back up to your face. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when you watched Shigaraki’s tongue wet his dry lips. He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand this action, and you started to feel light headed. Your hand balled up into a white-knuckled fist, pulling back slowly to hit his smug face. 

Dabi must have had an idea of what you were about to do, because he launched forward and caught your wrist, ending your attempt prematurely with a click of his tongue.  

“As much as I would’ve loved to see that, I don’t think it would be wise, doll.” Dabi wrenched your arm back down to your side and placed himself behind you - standing guard with his hands on your shoulders, in case you decided to try it again. 

Sandwiched between the two villains, Shigaraki grinned as he moved to run his hands along your waist, his pinkies rising just above your shivering skin. “If you don’t drop that attitude, I’ll have to force it out of you, sweetheart.” You much preferred when he called you a bitch, or anything besides that sick term of endearment. 

You held yourself straight, begrudgingly allowing his fingers to trace small patterns. You focused on keeping your face straight and looking directly past him as if he weren’t even there. Shigaraki noticed this and became slightly annoyed at your ignorance. This just wouldn’t do. His palm rested flat against the material of your bra, dusting it just like he had done with your shirt. 

A soft sound rumbled in your throat and your eye twitched, but otherwise you said nothing. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You chanted to yourself, repeating the reassuring words to ground yourself. 

Dabi laughed. “Stubborn little thing isn’t she?” He settled his chin in the crook of your neck, causing you to try and shift away, which succeeded in little as Dabi wrapped his hand around your throat. “It looks like we’re gonna have to show ya’ some manners, doll.”

“She’ll learn.” Shigaraki tipped your jaw up with a single finger, watching you through his lashes.  

“Don’t touch me.” Shigaraki crouched down, his face level with your stomach. He paid no attention to you as he pressed his tongue flat against your stomach, feeling you shrink back and let out a sharp exhale. 

Wet, hot trails of saliva littered up your torso as he dragged the muscle all over your skin. You did your best to remain still at his assault - commanding your body to adhere to your orders had never been such a struggle till now. You had been managing fine, until you felt his tongue prod closer to the top lining of your jeans. The appendage was too close for your liking, resulting in your hips unconsciously shifting backwards from the searing heat.  

Dabi let out a pained groan when your ass came into contact with his erection. The brief contact made him twitch and his hand tighten around your neck. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, noticing that you were biting your lip. With his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs away and settled his lips against the curve of your neck. You had been so focused on Shigaraki that you nearly forgot about him - jumping slightly as he pressed open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck. 

While the action was not welcomed, the feeling of his lips against your skin made your head fall back into his shoulder. Satisfied with your reaction, Dabi let out a breathless laugh. You could feel the moisture of his breath on your neck, making your eyes flutter shut. 

Shigaraki peaked up at you, grinning devilishly as he moved to grab your breasts. His thumbs ran over your peaked nipples before he latched his mouth onto one of them. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, causing you to push your chest closer to him. Shigaraki hummed to himself, hollowing out his cheeks to leave dark bruises. He couldn’t hold back the saliva that pooled in his mouth and instead, he let it collect all over your skin. He’d make sure you’d regret calling him disgusting. 

“Stop that!” You snapped your head downwards to glare at Shigaraki - narrowly missing Dabi’s head in the process. 

Shigaraki pulled away with a giggle, a line of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. “And what makes you so confident to tell me what to do?” He stood to his full height now, towering over you and causing you to bump back into Dabi. “The pretty little cop, all alone with the ugly villains, thinking she can give demands.” Five fingers skimmed across your pants, making them crumble to another pile of dust at your feet. 

Your eyes met with Shigaraki, who let out another snort of a laugh. “Don’t move now, I’d hate to ruin the fun by accidentally killing you.” He teased, his fingers looping under the band of your panties as he pulled them down your legs. 

His fingers skimmed down your thighs to prove his point, and he began to kiss and lick at your skin, noticing that you were trembling now. With your panties out of the way, he brought them up to his nose and sniffed at the center, his eyes shutting at your tangy odor. You almost keeled over at the sight below you, but Dabi kept you upright with a sharp tug.   

“You’re not keeping those are you, creep?” Dabi asked, his lips curling back at Shigaraki’s actions. 

“Shut up and hold her still, crispy.” He shot back, tucking the last piece of clothing you wore into his pocket with an annoyed growl.  

Dabi rolled his eyes and reached around to grab onto your waist, steadying you as Shigaraki lifted your leg up. You swayed slightly and took hold of Dabi’s forearm, your nails digging into his coat as you tried to balance yourself. 

“I got ya’, relax.” He spoke, annoyance riddled in his voice. 

Shigaraki moved his attention to your cunt, which you tried to hide by shuffling your foot inwards. He didn’t mind nor care for your refusal, noting that he would deal with it later. He was too consumed with lust and excitement, drool beginning to pool on his tongue at the sight of your mound. 

“You sick fuck. You’re not act-” Shigaraki gave you no time to protest as he dove mouth first into your cunt. He latched onto you, his tongue awkwardly poked around at your folds, almost like he didn’t quite know what he was doing. Nonetheless, the sudden intrusion caught you by surprise, causing you to snap your jaw shut. 

You could feel his lips curve upwards, the taste of you sending a spike of blood to the tip of his cock. His mouth moved messily against you, sucking in attempts to get more of that sweetness he craved. It was pure bliss. He never imagined you’d taste this good.  

His tongue swept up to your clit, which caused you to flinch. He repeated the motion again, this time circling harder over it. You keened into his mouth, involuntarily letting out a small moan at the feeling. Shigaraki snickered against you, focusing his assault on that same spot which made you flutter and gasp. He propped your leg further up, gaining better access to the gathering heat of your pussy. 

“Oh, god. S-stop-” You blubbered, arching back. 

The sound of your whimpers and soaking heat made him growl, he wanted nothing more than to replay those pretty sounds over and over. His face pressed harder into you, quickly learning where to focus his tongue to make you cry out and gush over his mouth. Your lips parted into an ‘O’ as your hips unconsciously bucked into his face, taking Shigaraki by surprise at your sudden eagerness. 

His tongue lapped over your clit a few more times before he buried it into your hole, tasting and sucking the slick that dribbled out. This time, you moaned louder. Shigaraki sucked and lapped at you, drawing out noises that you’d never thought would come out of you. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the skin of your cheeks flushed with a bright blush, stinging beneath your eyes as you soaked his face. 

“That’s it, doll. Let it all out.” Dabi began kneading the flesh of your breast as he cooed softly in your ear. His own erection was straining against the front of his pants, poking you in your rear each time you moved. 

Shigaraki placed two bony fingers at your entrance before shoving them in hard and fast. His knuckles slammed into you as he fully sheathed himself inside, drawing out a sharp cry. You were not prepared for this and you felt yourself clamp down hard. He continued to slurp at your clit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers barely fitting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching his fingers shine bright with your slick. 

“You’re pretty soaked for someone who doesn’t want this.” He examined his scissoring fingers, slick connecting his pale digits together before he licked them clean. “You like my ugly face buried in your sweet cunt, don’t you?” Shigaraki placed a chaste kiss on your thigh.  

“How’s that ego doing now?” Dabi teased, pinching hard at your nipples. “You’re gushing all over that creep.”  

You gritted your teeth together in humiliation. You didn’t know if it was Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s taunting that sent you over the edge. Either way, it was Dabi who was going to suffer. You snapped your head back to connect with Dabi’s chin, eliciting a sickening crack at the sudden contact. He didn’t expect you to pull such a stunt, especially now of all times. He let out a deep snarl of anger that vibrated against your back, before releasing his hold on you. 

“How’s your face?” You hissed back, struggling to keep yourself steady. The rattling in your skull didn’t help your now wavering balance, as you were still standing on one leg. 

Even with your pussy hovering only a few inches in front of his leader - you were still acting like a brat. Dabi glanced at Shigaraki, who was watching you closely before nodding towards Dabi.  

“Down, bitch.” Dabi growled. 

Simultaneously, Dabi kicked the back of your knee with his booted foot and Shigaraki let go of your leg. Your knee immediately buckled and you let out a cry of surprise as you lost your balance. Your hands shot out in attempts to stop yourself from falling, but you were too late. You collapsed to the floor, landing hard on your knees before Dabi kicked you into Shigaraki’s lap.  

Once again, he caught you, glancing down at you with a smile as you tried to peel yourself off his body.  

“It’s game over now, brat.” You continued to struggle in his hold, your palms lifting up to push at his shoulders, but Shigaraki was quick to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and tilting his head to give you one last look before forcing your face to his groin. 

Despite his lanky appearance, he was quite strong and easily managed to subdue you. Your eyes squeezed shut as Shigaraki let out a low groan, reveling in your helplessness and the feeling of your nose pressing against his clothed erection. Your fists dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself up, your arms shaking in exhaustion.     

Shigaraki gave you another shove, forcing your head back down. “This is nice, don’t you think?” He rubbed small patterns in your hair, carefully tucking his thumb against his palm.  

Your eyes stung with tears of humiliation, your ass perched up perfectly for both his and Dabi’s enjoyment. Inadvertently, you breathed in, once again overwhelmed with his musky smell. You let out a quiet sob, the tears burning as they slid down your cheeks. 

“She looks much better from this angle.” You heard Dabi rasp from behind you.  

With the little strength you could manage from this angle, you turned your neck to look back at him. His attention was focused on the round of your ass, and you could see him palming the front of his jeans. The lewd action made you sob, which Dabi noticed and made him smirk. 

Shigaraki was studying you from above, his crimson eyes soaking in every bit of your reactions as he leaned back on his heels. Oddly enough, the look of disgust on your face managed to turn him on even more . His scarred lips cracked into an unnerving grin and he pulled you up by your hair to meet his gaze. 

“I want you to suck it.” He ordered. 

Your stomach dropped at his words and you felt the tears finally start to stream down your cheeks. “Please…” He gave you no time to beg, already stripping himself free of his pants and guiding you down. 

You find yourself hovering directly above his cock, staring at it with widened eyes. You didn’t know he’d be this big. You swallow hard and tentatively reach out to stroke him, your fingers barely managing to wrap around his girth. He lets out a sharp hiss of air at the feeling of your soft hands and bucks forward. Another choked sob escapes your lips and your tears fall onto his legs as you continue to stroke slowly. 

Shigaraki lets out a disgruntled growl and tightens his grip on your hair. “I told you to suck it, idiot.” 

Shakily, you stick your tongue out and run it over the tip of his cock. The mix of his sweaty skin and precum leaves a salty taste on your tongue, making you cringe. Your mouth parts more as you try to adjust your jaw for his size, but Shigaraki was impatient. His hips suddenly jut forward and you gag, feeling his entire length force its way into your throat. Your hands slap against his thighs and you begin to breathe through your nose. Shigaraki lets out a low moan at your throat clenching around him. 

Tears blur your vision and snot runs down your nose. Shigaraki didn’t care, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your wet mouth sucking him off. You were his toy now, and he was going to do whatever he pleased with you. 

Dabi could feel his dick twitch with every whine and strangled gasp you made. The confinements of his jeans were getting a little too tight for his liking, so he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing himself. He trailed two fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you slick gathered on his digits. A squeak traveled up your throat, muffled by Shigaraki’s cock stuffing it full as you felt Dabi’s fingers prod at you. 

“You’re drenched, doll. Are you enjoying this? Hm? Getting raped by two Villains at the same time?” Dabi’s fingers pushed past the tight muscle of your pussy, embedding them deep inside you. He curled his digits up and brought them in and out slowly, shuddering at your suffocating walls tightening around him. 

Your throat vibrated with a low moan, saliva pouring out the sides of your mouth as you could no longer hold it in due to the girth of Shigaraki’s cock resting against your tongue. 

“You’re so fucking tight, but don’t worry, I’ll stretch ya’ out.” His fingers left your sopping hole before you felt something much larger settle against you. Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from both of them. 

Shigaraki hissed as your teeth grazed against him, the foreign feeling causing him to jerk forwards and deeper down your throat. You pitifully looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying and gagging. 

The distraction allowed for Dabi to plunge into you, fully bottoming out and slamming against your cervix. You immediately screamed, eyes wide and unseeing as your back bowed to the ground. 

“Fuck! That’s it.” Dabi had you by your hips, keeping you pinned while he rocked towards you. 

Your core burned in anguish, giving you barely any time to adjust to his size as Dabi’s cock dragged up and down your walls, moaning as your pussy greedily sucked him in. You felt like you were going to pass out, both of your holes stuffed beyond their limit and catching you out of breath. 

The sight almost made Shigaraki bust his load down your throat, but he managed to suppress it. He wasn’t about to prematurely end this little game just because he couldn’t control himself, so he pulled himself out of your mouth with a wet plop. The tip of his cock throbbed painfully, deepening in color with the amount of blood arousal pumping to the head.    

You gasped like a fish, gulping down as much air as your lungs could handle. Oxygen had never tasted quite so sweet until now, considering you were on the verge of passing out. Your hand shakily moved up to wipe your nose and mouth, grimacing when Dabi bottomed out again. Your chest bounced with the swift force, giving Shigaraki a clear view from above.   

“What a mess.” He kept his hands on your head, silently warning you not to move.

You struggled to keep pace as Dabi’s movements refused to slow. With your mouth freed, Dabi took the opportunity to make you scream. The enlarged head of his cock slammed back into your cervix, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that had you heeling over Shigaraki’s lap. You clawed at his thighs, digging your nails into his skin. 

“Please! It hurts!” You sobbed, but dared not to look back, knowing that you’d only make things worse for yourself. 

“Begging now?” Dabi grunts, “It’s not like you can do anything about it- just relax and enjoy it.” He says between breaths, struggling to keep his voice steady. The depth of his strokes make you cry, and you try to crawl away. You don’t get far, Dabi sees to that by dragging you back with a growl. 

“I-I can-can’t. Please, stop!” Dabi’s arm moves to cradle your stomach, his other hand dipping down to your cunt, eagerly searching for your clit. This angle only draws him in deeper, but the soft circles that his fingers trace along your clit lessen the pain. His steady rhythm and lingering heat of his fingers make it harder to control the building pressure. You weren’t sure who you hated more, Dabi or Shigaraki. Both of them could rot in hell .  

“Does that feel nice?” Shigaraki coos. The knotting in his stomach is calming down, and he's almost ready to watch you choke on his cock again, but your not so subtle attempts to hide your pleasure has him enchanted. The way your eyebrows twitch and mouth open in awe almost make him bust at the sight. 

Ever so slightly, he tilts your head up with a gentle tug. Obediently, you open your eyes, briefly noticing his scar twitch as he opens his mouth. A string of spit falls from his lips before you can close your mouth, landing on your tongue while the remnants drip down your chin. 

“Swallow it.” His eyes challenged. 

“Ngh-” Your eyes fluttered shut, throat clenching as you swallowed it back. Gross.  

“Good girl.” Shigaraki was done with his mind games. He lined himself back up, confident that he could last slightly longer. 

You granted him access, kissing and licking at him in hopes that he’d cum quick. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside, rubbing up and along the vein that thumped with each stroke. You knew he was getting close, and so were you. Dabi was working quicker on your clit, your body ignoring every cue from your brain to stop. You had no control, and felt the effects of your orgasm wash over you. You tensed, clenching down on Dabi and making him groan, eyes rolling back at the feeling. 

“That’s it, doll. You’re- gonna make me-” Dabi hissed, following your orgasm with his own moments later. He’s never come that fast before, and to be honest, he was a little embarrassed. 

You moaned, feeling the heat of his cum drench your insides. Hot. It was so hot . He twitched as he filled your pulsating cunt, drawing out a handful of curses from him. You cried out, muffled sounds escaping your mouth. Tears soaked your face as you rode out your high, feeling Dabi pull out of your sopping hole and release you. A mixture of his and your own cum ran down your thighs, causing you to shudder. He stayed behind you, in case you had any bright ideas while he was stuffing himself back into his pants. 

Shigaraki laughed, rutting himself against your face, taking you by surprise as your nose collided with his pubic bone. You let out a strangled cough, slamming your hands onto his thighs as you struggled to breathe through your blocked nose.

“I knew you’d be fun -ah- knew it.” Shigaraki pushed your head so far down that you gagged, tears overflowing and blurring your vision. 

His hips thrusted forward, releasing a low growl as he spilled himself down the back of your throat. You coughed, quickly swallowing it all back in fear of your body accidentally spitting it back up. It was salty, and felt heavy as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach.

The moment his hand left the back of your head, you threw yourself away and wiped your lips. There was a lingering taste of him invading your tongue, which you knew would take you months to wash away. 

Curled up against the wall, you shielded your head in your arms, tucking yourself behind your shivering form. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard their footsteps, instead, you remained still and awaited death. 

“It seems like your time wasn’t wasted afterall.” You heard the familiar rasp of Shigaraki. He wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel a tinge of something in your gut at his words. 

You felt something crouch beside you, peering over you like a hawk. You tilted your head slightly, glancing up at Dabi as he examined you. “Not the type of recruit I had in mind, but she’ll be useful.” He patted your head, brushing matts of hair away from your eyes. “In other ways.”

[crowleyholmes]

Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

[vroom--vrooming]

Fernando Alonso x driver!Reader

Platonic. Mentor-mentee. Reader drives for McLaren

Your journey to Formula 1 was nothing short of a dream. As a kid, you had posters of Fernando Alonso on your wall, watched his every race, studied his every move. He was your hero, the driver who could make even the toughest battles on track look like art. Years later, that same hero had become your mentor, guiding you through the ups and downs of your journey in F2 and beyond.

You remember when he first noticed you, back in your F2 days. You’d just finished a race, pulling a stunning overtake in the last lap to clinch a podium. As you climbed out of your car, sweaty and exhausted, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned, and there he was—Fernando Alonso, congratulating you with that knowing smile. “You remind me of myself,” he’d said, and from that moment on, everything changed.

Fernando took you under his wing, giving you tips, advice, and encouragement. He was tough, but he was always fair. “Learn to protect your tires,” he’d tell you, “and don’t give up an inch if you don’t have to.” With him guiding you, you pushed harder, improved faster. Even after you made it to Formula 1, with McLaren, he was always there, just a message or a call away, ready to offer advice before every race.

Everyone knew Fernando was your mentor, and he made it clear he was proud of you. In interviews, he’d praise your progress, your determination, and whenever you crossed paths in the paddock, he’d make sure to check in. His support meant the world to you, and it kept you grounded, knowing that the man you’d looked up to all these years believed in you.

Now, driving for McLaren with Lando Norris as your teammate, you’d had an incredible season so far, and the dream of your first win felt so close. But last race, that dream had been shattered. You were leading, just a few laps away from victory, when the radio crackled with a team order that sent a chill through you.

“Let Lando through,” they’d said. “It’s for the championship.”

Your heart had sunk. You were faster, you knew it, but McLaren wanted you to move aside, to help Lando secure points. You didn’t argue, though every fiber of you had wanted to fight. Following the order, you watched as Lando overtook, stealing away the win that should have been yours.

After the race, the frustration boiled inside you. All the hard work, the sacrifices—it felt like it had been taken away in an instant. Away from the cameras, you found a quiet corner in the paddock, trying to calm yourself, but nothing helped.

That’s when you saw Fernando. He approached quietly, and from the look on his face, you knew he understood exactly how you felt. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice calm. “Letting go of something that should have been yours.”

You nodded, struggling to keep your emotions in check. “It just feels… unfair. I had the win, Fernando. I could have done it.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his gaze steady and reassuring. “I know. And so do you. Listen, this is part of racing. Sometimes, teams will make decisions that go against everything we feel. But here’s what I want you to remember.” His voice softened, but there was a strength in his words. “Next time, don’t let anyone hold you back. Do what you do best. Race, as fast as you can. If Lando can’t beat you on his own, then he’s not ready to be champion yet.”

You felt a spark of determination reignite inside you, the frustration giving way to a quiet resolve. Fernando’s words had always had a way of grounding you, of reminding you why you loved this sport in the first place. His confidence in you was something you couldn’t shake.

With renewed focus, you entered the next race with one thing on your mind: to race without holding back. From the start, you pushed your McLaren to its limits, the car responding beautifully as you took each corner, each straight with the precision Fernando had drilled into you over the years. Every lap, you felt stronger, more in control, the distance between you and the others growing.

Then, the team radio came alive. “We need you to let Lando pass.”

This time, you didn’t hesitate. “If he’s fast enough,” you replied, your voice steady, “he can try to catch me.”

The minutes ticked by, and Lando tried—he pushed hard, but he couldn’t close the gap. You held your line, focused on nothing but the track ahead, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline and pride with every lap. You were racing for yourself, for the win you deserved, and nothing was going to stop you this time.

The checkered flag waved, and you crossed the line in first place. Your first win in Formula 1. The realization hit you all at once, an overwhelming mix of joy, relief, and disbelief. You’d done it. You’d won.

As you climbed out of the car, the cheers from the crowd washed over you, and you felt the weight of every challenge, every sacrifice, lift from your shoulders. The team gathered around, clapping and congratulating you, but one face stood out in the crowd—Fernando.

He made his way over, his smile wide, his eyes filled with pride. Without a word, he pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, the noise and excitement faded away.

“I knew you could do it,” he said quietly, his voice warm and full of pride. “This win was all yours.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the victory celebration. “Thank you, Fernando. For everything.”

He nodded, his hand still on your shoulder. “This is just the beginning. Keep racing like that, and no one will be able to stop you.”

As you stood there beside the man who’d guided you every step of the way, you knew he was right. This was only the start of what you could achieve.

[lulu2992]

Does Jacob Seed believe in God?

It’s a popular theory that, even though the oldest Seed brother is part of the Project at Eden’s Gate, he only has faith in his own ideology and doesn’t necessarily believe in God or the Voice. So is Jacob one of Joseph’s Heralds simply because he wants to support his brother and use his influence to his advantage, or does he actually believe in a higher power and in the Father’s message?

The first time we come (very) close to Jacob, during the mission “The World is Weak”, he explains why he thinks humanity has “forgotten what it is to be strong”. He says that “our heroes used to be gods” but that they are now, among other flaws, “godless”. If Jacob associates godlessness, so the lack of faith in God, with weakness, one of the things he criticizes the most, it implies to me that he thinks believing in God is a quality, so he most likely does too.

The next time the Deputy is captured by Jacob’s soldiers, he stays in the background to let Joseph talk to them and explain how he lost his wife and daughter. The Father tells this story in the Whitetail Mountains for a reason: it’s about pain, sacrifice, being tested, and doing whatever we’re asked to prove our devotion. Although Jacob doesn’t say anything to the Junior Deputy in that scene, the pained expression on his face proves that Joseph’s speech affects and resonates with him, and we only fully understand why the next time we meet him.

The third time the Deputy gets captured and ends up in one of Jacob’s cages, he too has a story to tell. While he casually shows how submissive and “well-trained” Pratt has now become, he talks about his experience in the military and more specifically during the First Gulf War. He explains how he and another soldier, Miller, got separated from their unit without food, water, or radio, and had to survive in the desert. When he realized, after eight days, that they were most likely going to die, he accepted his fate. “And in that acceptance came clarity”, he explains, and before he says the last two words, Jacob pauses and looks at the sky. In my opinion, this may indicate he believes this epiphany was of a divine nature.

When he continues his story, he says sacrificing Miller so he could survive “wasn’t something [he] wanted” but “something that [he] had to do” before concluding that it was “[his] test” and looking at the sky once more. Again, to me, this suggests he believes that this “test”, this sacrifice he didn’t want to make but thought had to happen, was a divine trial, a “test of faith”, exactly like Joseph killing his own daughter. And in order to join his army, people are expected to do the same: they must sacrifice something (or someone) that’s holding them back. To Jacob, it appears a sacrifice is not just about the “weak vs. strong” ideology and culling the herd, it’s also how you prove your devotion, your commitment to the Project, to the Father and, by extension, to God.

In his final moments, Jacob says what led many people to conclude he was possibly an atheist: “My brother saw all this coming. I don’t know if he talks to God... that doesn’t matter. He was right.” I don’t think this means he doesn’t believe in a higher power, though. Many other characters in Far Cry 5, such as Jerome or Grace, clearly are religious but also think Joseph is a false prophet and that there’s no way the Voice he claims he heard is God’s. Here, Jacob doesn’t say it’s not true and that the Voice isn’t real; he simply admits that he doesn’t know if Joseph can communicate with God.

So, in my opinion, it’s very likely that Jacob believes in a higher power and that part of what he does to people has a religious significance. That said, as he takes his last breath, whether or not the Voice Joseph hears belongs to God doesn’t matter much to the Soldier anymore. What does, and what he seems to be certain of, is that he was right to believe in his brother.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 7: Spark to Life

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: “We don't have time to argue” “No, we don't”

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, weapons, dangerous driving

a/n: exciting notice! (maybe lol) the next chapter is pretty short, but it really was the best place to break up my chapters - so, as a result I will be posting it in the middle of this week! that's right, this coming week will bring two whole supercharged updates! first on Wednesday, and again on the regular Sunday😊see you then!!

For some days, the occasional crackling voices from that speaker accompanied your life when the boys were away.

Of course, you relished the time they did spend at home. Even though they were busy training in most of their free time, and out late on missions, they would come and chat with you while they made breakfast, or came to rest and watch some tv.

To them, it probably appeared that nothing was different between you and Jungkook. Whenever they were home, he took the chance to train with them. You knew he missed them now they were out so much without him. Anyone would have noticed as much, given the way he hovered around the receiver, always staying up after you slipped quietly to bed.

But once the house emptied, the smiling Jimin, raucous laughter of Hope or the fond smiles of Yoongi would be replaced by the stony silence of Jungkook.

Somehow, you were growing used to it.

Either that, or you would be firing comments between each other, no longer sure if it counted as fighting or having a conversation. Anything to fill up the silence.

You trained more too, your powers’ strength returning slowly even in the course of a week. And since that night, a sort of ritual had begun at dinner. Of course, you would have chosen anyone else’s company over Jungkook’s, but you had to make do. You would cook something simple, ordering him to chop up ingredients at the very least while he complained (“if you’re just going to criticise me, do it yourself!”). To this, you would remind him that he wanted to eat the food, did he not?

If anything, it was a cathartic vengeance for the power he held in the training rooms.

But anytime the receiver blared into life, the two of you would fall quickly into silence, drinking in every word, even the shortest exchange, of the boys which were out who-knows-where.

Tonight was one of those times. The two of you were sitting across from each other as always, beginning to eat.

The radio sparking to life cut off your conversation. Jungkook put his chopsticks down completely, turning his attention towards it. It was Jimin’s voice.

“Did anyone else see that?”

“I did. Hold on, I’ll go check it out,” Hobi replied.

Then an order from Namjoon.

“Yoongi, go with him.”

You continued staring at the small device even while no more exchanges could be heard. That wasn’t the usual stuff they talked about. Normally, it was just routine things, checking up on each other and confirming what they had planned.

But it was probably nothing. It was presumably quite a feat that they hadn’t come across any sort of difficulty in all the missions so far, and this would prove to be a false alarm or easily dealt with. You had seen what the boys were capable of, after all – just Hobi and Yoongi by themselves could be lethal.

That didn’t stop you from hanging on expectantly, though.

At last, the silence was broken. But not by what you had hoped.

“Guys? What can you see?”

Namjoon’s question was met with no reply. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the small radio, breath captive in your lungs.

Then, a jarring noise leapt like lightning from the speaker, making both you and Jungkook flinch. High-pitched, grating feedback, it faded almost instantly, but the scar it had torn in the previously peaceful kitchen remained.

Frozen to your seat, your food was well and truly forgotten as you heard Jin chime in next.

“Guys, get out of there.”

Namjoon’s trust in his right-hand man was evident, no hint of question in his voice as he reverted orders.

“Code two, hide the target and evacuate-”

“Yeah, we might have a problem with that,” Jimin cut him off.

A loud boom was audible, despite the limits of the small receiver that reduced it to white noise. Once again, it cut off.

It was then you realised Jungkook was on his feet. He snatched the radio from its spot on the counter.

“Stay here,” he said, back already retreating.

A second later, you were dashing after him. Reaching his side, you both shoved shoes on.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook glared at you with absolute incredulity, frown etched in his face. He didn’t even leave time to stare you down, however, already pushing past you and all but running down the front stairs.

You followed just as fast.

“I’m coming with you. They’re in trouble.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to stay here,” he spat over his shoulder.

His foot tapped restlessly as the large front door slid open. The moment he had enough space to pass through, he was marching into the expansive garage, with you hot on his heels.

“I can help,” you argued.

Jungkook wove between the cars and stopped by a motorcycle. Turning to you, his face was set, frame livid and glare fierce while he dug harshly in his pocket for the keys.

“We don’t have time to argue.”

His tone was firm, clearly infuriated.

Just then, another concerning explosion crackled through the radio, standing your hair on end.

Stepping forwards, you swung your leg over the back of the motorbike and stared challengingly up at him.

“No. We don’t.”

The sound he let out bordered on a growl, but the next moment he had situated himself on the front of the bike, and a roaring filled the air as it shuddered into life beneath you. Left with virtually no time to react as he pulled away, you were forced to cling to the man in front of you.

With your arms thrown around him, you felt him stiffen under your touch. But then he was urging the bike forwards, and not a second later wind collided with your face as you shot from the base and into the night. The rapidly increasing speed left you to shelter your face in the back of his neck.

The cacophony in your ears and the rush of air that tugged your hair behind you should have alerted you that Jungkook was disregarding basically all existing traffic laws.

But you couldn’t care less.

With the blur of city lights whizzing past you, all you could think of was the speed with which you could reach the boys. The streets were fairly empty, but cars were dotted here and there. Probably cut some up, judging by the blaring horns at one intersection.

Thundering onto a wider street streaked with neon, your eyes fell on a billboard. As you sped towards it, the picture cut to purple fire and rubble, a live news banner scrolling along the bottom.

Then it was gone again, Jungkook guiding the bike around the corner and through more city streets.

The images set your head spinning, all the more restless on the back of the bike the longer you were helpless to do anything but wait for Jungkook to get you there. How was he going to find them? You hadn’t even been told where they were going. They hadn’t bothered you with mission details ever since you and Jungkook had been stood down-

“Almost there!” Jungkook’s yell was barely audible over the wind.

“Wait, how can you-”

“They’re protecting something called the Razer. Their plan B was to stash this weapon in some underground parking lot. You head down there, I’ll help fight them off. Looks like they were ambushed.”

“How do you know all this?” you finally made yourself heard.

“I snuck into Namjoon’s office, okay? I saw the plans,” he called back. “When we get there… you might have to fry this thing. It can’t fall into their hands, better that we destroy it altogether.”

You had no time to muster a reply before the bike was swinging around a corner and skidding to a halt.

At the end of this street, the sky was lit up. Purple fire blazed, just like on the billboard, but this time it was real, licking into the sky from the wreckage of a building on the corner. Other beams of light flashed, shocks of red and luminous white smattering the fronts of the buildings.

You got no more than a glimpse of a few figures silhouetted against this backdrop before Jungkook pulled you down to shelter behind the bike.

A hand on your shoulder keeping you in place, he peered over the top of the bike before returning his gaze to you.

“The building that’s been destroyed, the Razer should be in there. You should be able to make a way through the rubble. You’ll know when you see it. Do you remember training the other day?”

Trying to take in his instructions, you nodded.

“Use as much force as you can to overload it, like we practised. Should fry the weapon’s circuits.”

“Okay,” you muttered, taking a glance over the bike again. The street was littered with people, but no one seemed to have noticed your arrival.

“Y/N, they don’t know about you,” Jungkook’s voice recaptured your attention. “I’ll join the fight. It’ll distract them and buy you some time, hopefully give the others a chance to turn the tide as well. Don’t use your powers until you have to.”

He stood then, preparing to move around the bike and head into the fray.

His step faltered before he could go further.

When he turned back, a ray of gold flickered in his eyes.

“And Y/N… be careful. This weapon… if it strikes you, it can strip you of your power.”

Your eyes were locked for a long moment, his words sending a bolt of cold fear straight to your heart.

He took a breath, but said nothing more. An instant later, he was gone, the intensity of his eyes now no more than a mirage, quickly vanishing in your memory.

There was no time to agonise over it. Nor was there time to reconcile the implications of this fight, your first mission – your priorities turned to the weapon that was now in the open far from safe hands.

A flash of gold split through the night, sparks reflected in the bike’s mirrors.

Sucking in a lungful of air, you shuffled around the front wheel, slowly leaning out. Another blinding burst of gold showed you the outline of Jungkook, golden light firing him into the air. Sparks flew as he collided, wrestling, with someone halfway up a building.

The next moment, their figures plummeted to the ground.

Jungkook was the one who stood up again, the other staying motionless.

However, you weren’t here to watch. There was no time to stick around here. By now, others had noticed the newcomer to the fight; figures advancing your way down the street prompted you to get moving.

Ducking slightly, you picked your moment and sprinted the short distance from the bike to the edge of the street, flattening yourself against brick before checking no one had seen you.

All that greeted you were warring lights and the blur of fighting, backlit by the ever-raging fire.

Confident in being unnoticed, you sparked to life again, taking off on light feet in the opposite direction to the fighting. You raced around the corner to the neighbouring road, which was totally devoid of Bolt’s minions.

Judging by the short glimpses you had garnered so far, you guessed the group that had ambushed your friends were decked out with Bolt’s stolen goods – and were out for more. But you had no real idea how many of them had powers or not.

Or, come to think of it, how many of them there were at all.

All that mattered, though, was that there weren’t enough to have found you yet. You had run the length of the street, slowing as you reached the corner where the ruined parking lot stood.

Pressing your back against the wall, you edged around to peer at the damage. The fire was brighter here, making you squint. A few shapes darted in and out of view on the other side of the flames, but this side was still deserted.

This had to be it. Somewhere among this destruction was the weapon which had caused so much trouble.

Sheltered from view by V’s vibrant flames, you approached as close as you dared until you stood right in front of the rubble. You clambered over a few smaller chunks of concrete before you decided to begin.

With one more look around for security, you breathed deeply and raised your hands, palms only a hair away from a large block that used to form part of a wall, but now lay at your feet.

Biting your tongue, you finally let your powers out.

Remembering Jungkook’s words, you focussed on broadening the scope of your power, letting as much flow from your fingertips as possible. Blue bloomed in front of your eyes. A second later, the boulder began to glow the same hue.

Gritting your teeth, you propelled even more of your power downwards. For a moment, the rock resisted, only growing brighter blue. Then all at once, it gave way with a splintering sound that was swallowed up by the roaring of the fire.

With the sudden caving, you stumbled forwards, supressing your powers hurriedly to hide any light that would give you away. Just before you could trip into the gap revealed by the destruction of the rubble, you caught yourself with a hand on the ruptured concrete edge.

The fire did little to light up the dark space that now gaped below you.

Crouching, you peered carefully around. After a moment, your eyes had adjusted enough to reveal a concrete staircase, shrouded in the debris from the collapsed wall.

You shifted closer until you could lower yourself over the edge. Holding onto the remains of the wall, you dropped down onto the stairway.

It was seriously dark down here. To continue, you had to summon a small ball of light. Blue hovered above your palm, helping you pick through the dust and bricks that littered the ground from the building’s collapse.

On the plus side, it was utterly empty. You were clearly the first one to break through to this part, so you pushed ahead, following the stairs down as per Jungkook’s instructions. The plan had been to hide it underground.

Further on, you found the base of the staircase drowned in another pile of rubble. A larger slab encroached, looming from where it had been dislodged from the ceiling, lowering the height of the space. You didn’t dare try to move that one, however, almost certain that it was keeping a larger amount of debris from filling this corridor entirely.

Ducking quickly under that, you shot through a couple of smaller pieces before you could see a way through.

Not wanting to shift more stone than you had to, you wriggled through the gap you had created. The other side was lit with a wavering yellow light, making the stairs’ shadow flicker. A few more steps led down before you finally found the end to the enclosed space.

A blank corridor led to a door which hung off its hinges. Pausing when you reached it, a bigger, equally blank space opened out in front of you.

Though a small part of the ceiling had caved in the opposite corner, a pile of rubble collected there, the intact state of the walls told you that you were finally below ground level. The space was wide, but heavy with the oppressive air of industrial parking towers, walls strewn with graffiti. Artificial lights flickered in the corner of your vision.

The lights quivered even more as a loud boom ricocheted through the space.

That confirmed you were heading in the right direction, at least. Taking off running, you skidded through the next doorway and were instantly greeted with chaos.

Purple flickered and danced along the opposite wall – although you weren’t sure there was a real wall there at all. In front of this barrier of his own making, V was silhouetted.

Before submerging yourself in the waves of heat the large fire was throwing off, you took a breath. You couldn’t make out any enemies in the gaps between the flames, the light too dim and distorted by the blaze, but V shot another burst of flame as you watched. Your eyes were too dazzled to see if it had hit someone.

“V!” you called, hurrying to his side.

He turned with a jolt, arms still raised. Stopping in your tracks at his abrupt movement, you watched his eyes cloud with recognition.

Slowly, he lowered his palms.

“…How?”

You filled in the blanks of his low, startled question easily. How did you get here?

“No one followed me, I promise,” you stepped closer, “we heard you on the radio. We need to destroy that weapon.”

Nodding, V shifted his eyes furtively around before they landed on the only intact door in the place.

“There- mmph!”

V raised an arm to point, but was suddenly thrown in that direction himself.

“V!” you cried, crouching to his side, but your eyes were scanning the flame.

Hissing, V rolled over, clutching at his side which had been struck with… something. It wasn’t the same thing that had hurt him last time, but you knew the weapons Bolt was using were anything but friendly.

“Go… destroy...” he urged you, though the following groan of pain made you hesitate.

Gulping, you looked helplessly between V, who was struggling back to his feet, and the doorway he had shown you. Just as he stumbled upright, both of your attention was snatched by a figure breaking through the flames.

They had an arm over their face, grimacing at the heat, but they lifted their weapon blindly anyway.

You dived to the floor, scurrying away from the round of bullets strewn about the space.

Before either of you could retaliate, a shot of gold pierced the purple veil, sending the attacker flying. As the shots ceased, you caught sight of a silhouette you recognised darting behind the column of fire.

“Go!” V shouted again.

Meeting his eyes, you steeled yourself with a breath. While you wanted to stay and help against those enemies trying to break through the fire to get to V, with Jungkook to contend with on the other side as well, they were surrounded.

Now it was up to you.

You had found yourself with your back against the very door you needed to go through. Spinning, you wrenched it open to be met with another descending staircase. The lights had gone out totally here, but there was no time to waste.

Plunging into the darkness with nothing but your own light to guide you, you felt the temperature drop. Your skin was clammy, sweat from the heat above now clinging icily to your face, but you weren’t hanging about.

Feet finally finding flat ground, you looked around urgently until you caught sight of a shape ahead.

It was a large box, black so it nearly blended in with the darkness. Scrabbling to get to the weapon within, you easily blasted aside the simple metal fastenings.

On opening it, bright light startled your eyes once more. A clear sphere filled with what looked like bolts of lightning formed the centre of the device. The surrounding parts containing it were white, clearly a prototype, and resembled a gun.

Already feeling your powers bubbling up, you didn’t hesitate to place your hands on the spherical centre. A tingle flew up your spine.

Refusing to let fear get to you now, even with the knowledge of what this thing could do, you continued to push until your powers spilled from your fingertips. Blue lightning skittered over the glass surface, caging the still writhing light within.

Glowing brighter and brighter as you expelled more power, you began to feel something. Like the time in training when Jungkook had connected your powers and you had felt his golden electricity – except this, this was cold.

The glass shattered between your hands, noise and light smothering your senses as you were thrown backwards.

Your back met concrete, your own gasps heavy in your ears.

The cold was still there.

Blinking rapidly, you grappled to hold onto your powers, keep them flowing. Squinting into the brightness surrounding you, you found a brilliant white light had sprung from the weapon’s casing, seemingly latched onto your own powers.

Fear jolted through you. The light, whatever its power, was pushing back, trying to devour your own.

You had been trained for this. But – and you would never repeat this – you longed for Jungkook in that moment. The safety of the training room, and the usual guarantee of coming out alive, had all fallen away.

It was just you. Alone.

But there was a fight raging above you, all for this thing. You had to do this: for Yoongi and Hobi who could be anywhere right now. Hurt, bleeding? For Jin and Namjoon, wanting to come out on top. Jimin, fighting for V who was penned into the parking lot defending you.

And for Jungkook.

You had been trained for this.

Adrenaline buzzing in your veins, you pushed yourself up from the floor, power swelling in your chest. Letting it out completely, it charged through your veins until it was spitting sparks in the air, jaws gnashing against the blazing white that threatened to devour it.

One foot forwards.

The white lightning squirmed, as if trying to shake you off. You never relented. Blue advanced steadily from your hands until it was all that could be seen.

Breaking point. You kept up the pressure, feeling the last bit of resistance from the weapon-

Crack.

Upstairs, the fire V had lit was buffeted as if hit by a powerful gust of wind. Disturbed anew, blocks shifted in the rubble, pebbles raining to earth. The opponent Jungkook had been fighting was swept clean from their feet, his golden light harmlessly striking the wall behind the spot where they had just stood.

But as the enemy was forced to the floor, Jungkook’s attention was already elsewhere. Struggling to stay standing through the shockwave, he staggered back a few paces before he could turn towards the fire. The way you had gone.

The ground seemed to settle again, the blast leaving silence in its wake.

The first sound was his feet pounding on the floor. Striding right over the fighters lying on the ground, uncaring whether they were dead or alive, skirting around the fire they had been attempting to cross seconds ago.

None of Bolt’s pathetic followers attempted to stop Jungkook. They couldn’t deny the meaning of that explosion – the thing they were after was destroyed.

Normally, he might stay, try to stop them fleeing. As it was, he didn’t stand between them and their retreat, instead sprinting towards the source of the commotion.

V had kept his guard up, still eyeing the fire for movement with dark eyes. He caught Jungkook’s eyes as the younger stopped in front of him, eyes wide and panicked.

V turned.

Following his gaze, Jungkook found a doorway. Behind the open door was consuming darkness, still and silent.

You were in there.

His feet were moving again, steps turning to strides as he picked up speed, only to nearly trip over himself as he got closer.

You rushed up the stairway, catching yourself on the doorframe. Leaning against it, you panted for breath, but an exhilarated smile never left your features.

As your breathing calmed, you looked around into the car park. Eyes meeting Jungkook’s, you straightened up a little.

His mouth hung slightly agape. He had expected you to crawl from there bleeding, if the shockwave had been anything to go by. And for him to be the one that sent you down there-

“I did it!” you exclaimed.

Blinking rapidly, he clocked how long he must have been staring in shock.

Nodding, he hurriedly shuffled around in pretence of checking the area like V.

“Good. I almost didn’t think you were going to be any help.”

You had no time to decipher his comment before V cast a sharp gaze over the two of you. His usual silence had taken hold again, but Jungkook seemed to understand him.

“We need to move.”

Striding away purposefully, V left you two to scramble after him. Jungkook threw one more skittish glance at you, but quickly turned his eyes away to march after V.

The fire’s heat grew in intensity as you neared, smothering. V waved a hand and a gap opened up, the glaring purple giving way to pure darkness beyond. Hurrying through, you panted gratefully in the cool night air. Even among the rush of your battle downstairs, you felt a bit wobbly from the strain.

Leaving the fire blazing behind you without a care, your trio scaled the wreckage, this side of the building being the main victim of the destruction. The landslide of rubble sloped upwards, your path weaving between motionless figures, slumped in gaps between the debris.

V bent down to scoop up a gun, lifting it easily from a fallen opponent. Their hand fell uselessly back onto the rock.

Jungkook did the same, only he flung the weapons he collected back into the fire behind you. It spat as it guzzled them, but the sound grew fainter as you finally reached the street and hurried away over flat ground.

As the three of you sprinted through the night, the full extent of the battle was spread before you. Scattered around the burning building were pieces of wreckage, but you were sure they couldn’t have been flung that far if it wasn’t for human intervention in the destruction.

You were forced to leap over a large channel where the road had cracked, somehow.

Eerily still after the furore that had been raging only moments ago, your group’s footsteps rang loudly in your ears. Which is why the crunch that echoed through the wasteland stopped you in your tracks.

Whizzing around, you were instantly alert, feeling your powers stir.

But the air left your lungs, relieved by the blur of pink that was coming towards you.

Jimin tossed a mangled car to one side like it was nothing, only focussed on V. They collided, Jimin burying his head in V’s shoulder and desperately clutching him close.

It was only after pulling away that he registered your presence. His eyes flicked between you and Jungkook, a million questions forming in his eyes.

But he left them unsaid.

He started running again, hand clutched in V’s and leading him around the corner. Following, you drew further from the fiery glare in your wake. The shadows grew thicker, your path taking you off that road and further into the city maze.

Wailing met your ears, sirens announcing the likely arrival of authorities at the site of the fight – all too late to stop anything.

Though you were out of sight, you were only a few streets away. Enough to make you feel terribly exposed to the building clamour of sirens. A glance over your shoulder showed the distinct red and blue of emergency vehicles painting the dark sky.

Then you caught sight of something – someone – stepping forwards from the shadows.

Someone with silvery hair and eyes that glowed bright white.

You hadn’t really seen Yoongi use his powers. His eyes were truly striking, but he did little more than breathe and suddenly the world was plunged back into darkness. The colours disappeared from the sky, even the streetlights dying.

“Yoongi!” Jimin exclaimed, changing course to rush towards him, “you’re okay! What happened-?”

“We’re fine,” Yoongi spoke calmly, dazzling eyes scanning the road behind you, “just couldn’t get back- speaking of, where are we getting to now?”

As if summoned, a figure dropped from the now dark streetlamp. No one else could make a landing like that look so easy.

Yellow faded from Hope’s eyes as he faced you, grin splitting his face.

“Namjoon got to Jin alright, they’re on their way. Just saw them.”

Only the crunch of tyres gave away the car that swung around the corner. The headlights had been cut, whether by Yoongi or by Jin, driving, as a precaution. It blended with the shadows, sliding through them to stop smoothly in front of your group, assembled on the pavement.

It wasn’t until a door swung open and Namjoon stood from it that you remembered the fact you weren’t meant to be there.

This far, the adrenaline of the action had driven it from your mind. But the look Namjoon threw at you and Jungkook made reality come crashing back around you. Would he be angry? He was the one who had stood you down after all.

He breathed in evenly, gaze raking painstakingly over you…

“Get in.”

That was all he said, ducking back inside the car without another word.

As always, nothing could be read through his words. Sobered, you looked at the boys around you, waiting for them to pile into the car before you joined them.

Inside, you kept silent. Jimin and Tae were squished together in the back, Hope apparently cheerful beside them. By contrast, in the middle, Yoongi was staring intently out at the passing streets. His irises still glowed white, reflected in the darkened glass of the window. No trace of emergency lights, searchlights or even regular city lights found its way remotely near you.

This left you shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook, a frosty silence stretching between you.

With Yoongi doing his job so well, Jin guided the car silently back home. Namjoon’s calculating eyes scanned the lot of you through the rear mirror occasionally.

All you could do was try valiantly to ignore the firm press of Jungkook’s arm against yours. But it was impossible to drive him from your mind; in a way, this was familiar. His rigid frame, determinedly staring ahead. Anywhere but you.

Then why did it make you feel so small now?

You were well used to this kind of treatment from him, reciprocating it more often than not. So it was totally unfair how he could occupy your thoughts so relentlessly. All you had done was follow his orders. Rushed into battle together, yes. But you reminded yourself that he never wanted you there anyway. You were still just a hindrance to him.

Setting your jaw, you turned your gaze stoically out the window. A lone streetlight travelled past – you must be almost home if Yoongi felt it safe enough to let the light back in.

You had lost them well enough in the dark maze of the centre, and now you could throw them off your trail.

Through the reflections, you eyed the car packed with all of you. It felt right, with everyone there. Dimmed by the window glass, you saw Jimin’s arm slung around V’s shoulder, small smiles on everyone’s faces as he exchanged low jokes with Hobi.

Jin and Namjoon guided you home at the head of the vehicle. Namjoon’s glances were caring instead of cold, checking up on his fellow fighters.

This could have been different. Nerves remained about his decision, what your actions tonight would make him think. But you could rest knowing you had stepped in to help your new family, part of the reason you were all safely in this car now.

These events only bolstered what had been growing within you. These boys were your team.

Every single one.

Thank you for reading!! Good news for those of you dying to hear what Namjoon will do now, remember the next chapter is going up on Wednesday 29th💜until then, let me know your thoughts down below🥰

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[kikis-writing-service]

Spicy Curry (Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: Pro-hero Dynamight hides his developing hearing loss from the public. He doesn’t want them or the villains to know about what he considers his only weakness. His family knows. His best friends know. And now you, the owner of his favorite little curry shop, know. You want to live a quiet life & to protect your son. The last thing you want is to draw attention to yourself. You hide your identity, you hide your scars, and you hide your quirk. And then Bakugou, Katsuki walks in one day with dried blood on his ears, and you can’t help but help him.

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 ? ? ? ? ?

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Content Warning: This fic will contain mentions of past abuse from a “partner”, including sexual assault.

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Silence claws at Katsuki like smoke. His usually buzzing apartment, filled with pre-patrol jitters, now amplifies frustration. Benched from hero work is a new kind of hell – not the fiery adrenaline blast he’s used to, but a simmering resentment that chokes him dry. The sleek case for his new hearing aids mocks him from the table, tiny plastic soldiers against his towering rage.

Water sloshing in his throat does little to quench the fire within, leaving only bitter embers on his tongue. A sharp, insistent rap at the door pierces the suffocating silence. He groans, bracing for his well-meaning mother's lecture. He flings the door open, ready to bite back, but the words die on his tongue. Mina grins, a playful hurricane shoving past him. He shuts the door with a sigh.

Mina talks. He knows that much. Her voice, muffled like a radio stuck on low, washes over him. He wishes he could take back that bitter "nothing to do" that scorched his tongue. Being alone with his despair is preferable to this clumsy charade.

Mina's head tilts, a frown blooming on her face. Katsuki scowls back, irritation prickling his skin. Did she ask a question? Was he missing something? She marches closer, stopping right in front of him, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"Hearing aids?" she asks, her voice pushing through the muffled haze. Katsuki's ears strain, catching snippets, just enough to understand.

He grunts, the sound like sandpaper against silence. Dealing with this is the last thing he needs, but Mina's stubbornness is legendary.

Scoffing, the sound hollow even to him, he mutters, "Doc's orders. Needs to... heal." He gestures vaguely at the aids nestled in their velvet cradle.

"But you haven't been wearing them all day, have you?" Mina's voice cuts through his fog. "So put them on. Let's hear the world whine with you." Her golden eyes, usually sparkling like fireworks, hold him captive, a silent challenge in their depths.

Katsuki scowls, jaw muscles clenching. Mina, sensing his resistance, pouts. "Why not?" she presses, her voice a nudge.

He grumbles, staring at the hearing aids, delicate birds in their velvet nest. "Not like the others," he mutters. "Don't sit all the way in. Not as..."

"Discreet?" Mina offers, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Katsuki grunts, the sound rough in his throat.

Mina's sigh is a rumble of understanding. "Come on, Kat," she says, tiptoeing to touch his face, but he swats her hands away. Mina puffs up, simmering with anger. "Stop worrying about what people think."

"It's not about them," Katsuki growls. "It's about me. And I—," He stops, choking the rest back, running a hand through his hair. "You wouldn't get it."

"Not if you don't tell me!" Mina fires back. "This is exactly why we broke up!"

Katsuki rolls his eyes, ready to retort, but the words snag in his throat. He pauses, sighs, and looks away. In a quiet motion, he pulls out the hearing aids, one by one. Placing them over his ears, the world snaps into focus, a cacophony of welcome and unwanted sounds. He catches sight of himself in the window, the tiny tube snaking into his ear a jarring clash against his usual stoic image. He hates it, the vulnerability it forces upon him.

"Tiny! Barely see it," Mina's voice, amplified and clearer now, pricks at him. He knows she's lying. The tube, the wire, stares back at him accusingly. He hates them. Needs them. More than ever after this recent slide. No choice, the suffocating reality presses down on him, and he pushes the frustration back down.

He turns to face Mina. "You came to drag me out, didn't you?"

Mina laughs, a bright spark. "Yup! Sulking butt and all, you're coming to lunch with me!"

"M' not sulking," Katsuki mumbles, but Mina ignores the comment, already grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door.

Mina's words tumble against the cafe walls, bouncing off like pebbles on cobblestones. Fragments snag on Katsuki's silence – a new flame, a promotion, a weekend trip – but vanish before taking root in his thoughts. Every clink of cutlery, every muffled murmur, feels like a needle jab. The world hums like a faulty hive, every buzz amplifying the inadequacy gnawing at him.

He craves the silence, the haven you offered just nights ago, where the symphony of the world couldn't reach him. Water cools his throat, a fleeting respite from the sensory overload. "Hey, you still with me?" Mina's voice slices through the fog.

He scowls. "Don't care about whoever your fling is now."

Mina's laugh, like wind chimes, jars with cheer. "Aww, still hung up on me, Kat?"

Water sputters down his throat as he glares. "Shut up!"

Her laughter fades, replaced by a familiar, reassuring smile. Food arrives, a welcome distraction, but a blur. Katsuki eats on autopilot, flavors dulled, the restaurant's din a muffled roar he can't escape. Every amplified breath, every distant giggle, grates on him.

Sensing his withdrawal, Mina's chatter tapers off. Unspoken understanding hangs heavy, a familiar blanket she offers without pretense. He knows she cares. They're battle-scarred comrades, memories woven into hero training days. Yet, a chasm gapes between them, their languages disparate, his silence a fortress she can't crack.

His hearing loss isn't just muffling the world – it's a vine twisting through his life, draining energy, leaving thorns of frustration. Garbled conversations like whispers behind a wall, the exhaustion of piecing it together, the phantom echoes of missed words – the fear of being left behind gnaws at him.

He builds walls, fortresses of silence that keep others out and himself in. But translating his world, bearing the weight of their understanding, ignites a spark of fury.

His thoughts drift towards your shop, where silence isn't a chasm but a shared melody. With you, anxieties and frustrations exist in unspoken spaces, your empathy a bridge spanning the gap, allowing him to breathe, unburdened by explanation.

Mina's voice breaks through his reverie. "Hey, Katsuki," her eyes dim with concern. "We care, but you gotta let us in. Remember what we always said? Communication is key."

He knows she's right, but dissecting his experience, making deafness the story's center, feels like ripping open a wound. He's Katsuki Bakugou, a damn supernova, and reducing him

 to this struggle feels like a cosmic injustice.

The nervous waitress hovers, her gaze darting between them. He sighs, recognizing Dynamight's face, Mina's fame. This isn't hero worship – it's tiptoeing, a hesitant question hanging in the air. "Anything… uh… else you need?" Her voice, loud and slow, grates.

Confusion mixes with something sharp and hot in his gut. The hearing aids, not-so-discreet, click into place. Assumptions made, lines drawn, a new script written in the blink of an eye.

"Need air," he rasps, the simmering rage bubbling over. He shoots out of his chair, the world a muted hum as he rips off the hearing aids and shoves them into his pocket. Mina's confused call is lost in his wake.

He slams through the door, the cool air a slap against his burning chest. Pavement pounds under his feet, each step a beat against the thrumming anger. No destination, just the blind urge to outrun the sting of pity in that waitress's eyes.

His feet, on autopilot, lead him to the familiar alley, the comforting scent of spices a beacon. He hesitates at the shop's entrance. He craves you, the quiet haven you offer, the understanding that blooms between you without needing words. But seeking solace after his outburst feels… desperate and childish. He's about to turn away, to retreat into the city's anonymity, when the door swings open. You emerge, laundry slung over your shoulder.

You meet his eyes and the world stills. A sunrise smile chases away his shadows. Butterflies erupt in his stomach, fluttering against the bars of his self-consciousness. He feels stupid, a schoolboy caught loitering outside a forbidden playground.

Your head tilts, brows furrowed in unspoken concern. Then, with a gentle smile, your hands bloom, signing hello and his sign name – five fingers unfurl like a budding supernova, echoing the embers in his heart. Warmth floods his cheeks. He mirrors the gesture, fingers stiff yet fierce, signing your sign name back.

You scan the shop, searching for something. Not finding it, your brow creases.

"Doctor?" your hands inquire, urgent whispers in the air.

He nods, explaining his mother's intervention. "Ruptured eardrum. Should heal in a few weeks."

Your apology hangs in the air, a feather against his annoyance. "What for?" he asks, voice gravelly.

"My quirk couldn't help you more," your hands explain, a downcast gesture mirroring his chest.

He scoffs, exasperation mixed with gratitude.

"You've done enough," he mumbles, dismissing your worry.

He watches you wrestle with the laundry bag, a familiar knot twisting in his gut. Without thinking, he steps forward, effortlessly hoisting the bag onto his shoulder. You freeze, surprise etching your features.

"What are you doing?" your hands inquire, confusion flickering in your eyes.

"Heroes help those weaker than them," he muttered, the words gruff but the sentiment clear. "Got nothin' else to do on leave, might as well lend a hand."

Your surprise melts into a grateful smile, a blossom under his unexpected kindness. Just then, a shriek shatters the peace. Kouichi, a miniature hurricane of excitement, bounds down the stairs. Katsuki's gaze shifts toward him, the resemblance to you not lost.

"Dynamight?" he shouts, eyes wide with hero-worship. You step in front of him, your hands weaving a tapestry of sign language, too swift for him to decipher, but he catches "calm" and "quirk."

Kouichi, initially frowning, complies, closing his eyes and taking breaths.

"Sorry," you sign, turning back to Katsuki. "He's, uh, your biggest fan."

Katsuki scrutinizes Kouichi, curiosity igniting. Kids liked his quirk, sure, but favorite hero? That was usually Deku with his infuriatingly sunny smile. "Really? Not usually anyone's favorite," he says, surprise lacing his voice.

Your eyes widen, disbelief flickering. "What? But you're so cool!" The unfiltered admiration floods his cheeks, a blush he can't control. He can't help but be disarmed by your genuine awe.

"Think I'm cool, huh?" he teases, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

Your cheeks warm, and you bite your lip, a nervous but genuine smile playing on your lips. "The coolest."

"Mom!" Kouichi's shout cuts through the moment, drawing their attention. Katsuki's eyes widen. The laundry bag settled onto his shoulder, a familiar weight that suddenly felt heavier, tinged with a new awareness. Katsuki's gaze flickered to the boy, a knot of something akin to recognition twisting in his gut.

You rise, your gaze meeting his, an unspoken inquiry in your eyes. "Can I introduce you two?" your hands sign, pleading and hopeful. Kouichi stands beside you, eyes alight with unspoken questions. Katsuki, drawn by the twin flames of curiosity and a strange sense of responsibility, can only nod. Your smile brightens with an infectious joy that amplifies because it involves your son and his curiosity. Katsuki thinks it's the smile of a good mother.

"This is my son, Kouichi," you sign, your voice barely a whisper against the roar in Katsuki's ears. "Five years old and a ball of sunshine." You ruffle his hair playfully, eliciting a wide, gap-toothed grin. "He's deaf, so he'll use signs to talk to you. Unlike you, he's been at it since before he could walk, so watch out. He can zip through those signs like nobody's business.”

Katsuki blinks, surprise flickering across his face. His gaze shifts between you and Kouichi, a new lens settling over his perception. Understanding dawns, re-framing your connection.

“Don't worry,” you sign. “I told him to keep it slow for you." Katsuki gives you an appreciative look.

Kouichi walks beside Katsuki as you lead the way to the laundromat. They trail behind, silent questions dancing in the air.

[jolalibrary]

Hi Jo! Love the idea of #mmvalentinesevent! Could I please request Ghost x Rain, and specifically Rain freaking out because Ghost was reckless and risked his life for a USB? Was that when Ghost fell in love? Happy Valentines xx

retrieve it.

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (rain!reader)

an: a huge thank you to @ave661 for allowing me to use this beautiful image. i’d written the scene, seen the render, and it was like two worlds colliding in the most brilliant way. thank you, i adore you

wc: 1.6k | an: no warnings, little anxiety/worry. i changed the prompt a little, as i wanted to do them established already for v-day ♥️

It mirrors it. The mission that first made you realise you didn’t just admire him, but had feelings for your lieutenant.

It was the one that haunted your nightmares, more so now, than it had done at the time. The one which shattered your small world, making it hard to think of anything but him.

He almost became a ghost. A real one.

Something he knows, but won’t admit. Likely knowing there are more times than he can count where it’s been that close or worse.

And you should be listening as Price gives the rest of them a role, a part to play. You don’t hear him, don’t even take the file from the table. Everything was the same, anyway.

You’re with Soap. You’re the one staring down the scope—you’re the one protecting his six. You’re drowning, dazed…

Words are simply circling, but not sinking in. Your nose heightened to his deodorant suddenly, to the way his skin smells when you’re nose is pressed against his chest. You’re not even close to him. But your body reaches for him, clings to him—attempting to smother the building worry:

People aren’t that lucky.

He’d walked from it last time—fire whipping around him, scorch marks having kissed his clothes and exposed skin. It’s not that you ever focus on, but the minute that felt like an hour when he wasn’t responding. When his radio crackled, and you realised that you liked him—that you cared, that you—

You’re panicking a whole metre away from him. No way close enough for him to tell. But he does. His eyes lock with yours under the balaclava, digging his pupils into your skin: I’m here, I’m here.

But for how long?

They all tease Soap for being the first to rush into danger, to throw himself on the grenade. But, Simon isn’t that different. He’s more methodical, having likely come to a calculated conclusion rather than reactionary, but he still throws himself against danger. His isn’t to be a hero, but to pay a due—one he doesn’t even owe.

It’s why you keep replaying Price’s words from minutes ago—

We can’t fuck this. Ghost. You’ll b’going in alone, y’retrieve the USB…

Price knows he’ll do it. Knows without fucking question. It almost makes you a little mad at your captain.

Because Ghost will pull apart buildings, rip through people, and willingly throw himself into flames for the mission—for the cause.

It’s all you can think of. It’s all that plays in your mind. Untangling and tangling again, like a pair of headphones which have been in your pocket for too long.

“Meeting adjourn—“

You’re out of the room before anyone else. Your boots slamming and echoing down corridors, t-shirt suddenly too tight, belt too restrictive…

Panic.

That’s what you feel. It makes your arm throb, it makes the scars littered along your skin burn. It makes you want to claw—practically consuming you. Filling you from the ankles to your forehead, suffocating you, wrapping its hands around your heart and lungs as it squeezes and squeezes and—

You almost slam through the door. The one which leads to an empty room—a former office. A desk and a chair are all that remain as evidence that they belonged to someone once. A desk and chair you and Ghost have made use of when you truly need time alone—no interruptions, no risk of being caught.

You could seat yourself in the chair, but you slide onto the desk. Pushing your back against the jagged brick, letting your feet hang, moving them forwards and backwards.

Calming.

It works, sometimes. Roots you. You trying to keep yourself level-headed. Breathing in and out, trying to stuff it all down, and yet, you’re failing—badly. Mind tumbling, falling aimlessly through your neck, chest and stomach.

You can’t lose him.

It’s what builds inside of you, occasionally being drilled like a woodpecker against your skull. You had thought the same then, and didn’t—hadn’t. But, the helplessness never eased, even when he held you close. The emptiness you felt, when he entered the building, but took so long to come out.

That same emptiness has worsened over time, developed into something thicker and harder to ignore. It multiplies, in the same way, your feelings for him have.

Rain doesn’t wash away ghosts, but it falls similarly to how you have for him. Quickly, significantly. It sits on your chest when he stares at you in silence, when his calloused touch brushes over your cheek, softly, intimately.

None of them knows.

None of them would have even considered that you love him, and that he… feels something close to it. They don’t know. None of them understood the anger he felt when your arm was dislocated; none of them comprehended why anger had burst out of you when he was nearly shot because of shoddy intel.

They don’t know, because they don’t have it: a secret which erodes in your chest, one that makes it hard to think. You sigh, and then you hear it—footsteps, one’s which seem to slow your pulse back to a regular rhythm.

He always has that effect on you. The same as he always finds you.

It almost makes you wonder if he’s akin to a heat-seeking missile. Never missing, never too far away from locating you. You’d ask him, whether he had a sixth sense, but you’re not sure you can talk.

Ghost says nothing as he steps in, but he’s rolled his sleeves up. His ink and veins on show as he walks towards you in silence, the door meeting the frame the only thing to shatter the quiet.

Before he came to your home, Ghost stalked towards you. Since then, he walks. Each movement he does towards you is more rounded, less jagged.

“In and out.”

He says it so confidently you snort. He’s always confident—it’s Simon who isn’t.

Ghost is clinical, emotionless, and withdrawn—and rightly so, for the things he’s had to do. It’s Simon who can’t consider the possibility that someone is waiting for him—the former not allowing himself to consider he’s worth it.

“Rain.”

You lift your chin at your callsign, finding him standing in front of you. His bare hand slowly slid over your knee, your legs parting—just enough to let him move a little closer.

It’s gentle, almost confusingly so. The two of you rarely share these moments, the quiet ones, the ones where so much is said, but with eyes and softer gestures.

You focus on the scratch fabric of his trousers catching on your inner knees and thighs as he steps between your legs, nudging the desk you’re placed on.

He says nothing, and neither do you.

A flash of memories fluttering like the wings of butterflies: him at your one-person table, him in your bed—your sheets; him finding you in the showers, him bringing you a can of Coke… just because.

It’s his palm sliding up the outside of your thigh that makes you really meet his gaze. Not afraid or ashamed of the tears brewing in them, your lips parting, but the words don’t fall—don’t roll from your tongue…

I need you alive. I need you.

Your hands, though, take hold of his top—burning the words as hard as you can into the fabric, hoping he hears you. Not sure if you can spit them out. Even if your heart is bellowing it, furiously banging on your ribs to get him to hear you.

“It’s not like then.”

“No?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, silent, but direct.

“You’ll do anything to finish a mission.”

He nods, tracing a circle on your outer thigh, making your skin tingle. “I will.”

“You… you put yourself in danger, and… I admire it, fuck I love that about you, but…”

“I have you.”

You feel your brows furrow before you’re even sure you hear him. His words smothering the ones from Price—the ones which hadn’t dislodged for prayers or hopes. Only him.

He swallows, lifting his other hand to your cheek, holding your eyes on his. “I have you, and you like me alive.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, sharply. Nodding softly against his palm as he sighs.

“In and out.”

“In and out.”

He gives a curt nod, slowly lowering his forehead against yours, fingers strumming your thigh and your cheek.

“Plus, your scope will b’on me,” he gruffly whispers.

“I-It will.”

He strokes his thumb over your chin. “Then I’ll be fine.”

You hate his confidence, the pressure which falls in flecks onto your shoulders.

“No one I trust more to have my back, Rain.”

“You’re just saying that—”

He lifts his head, tilting your chin up, staring down into your soul through the blacks of your eyes. “Not to you. I never say… not to you, alright?”

You nod, rolling your lips as you sigh. Unsure whether you should say it, let the words kiss the air, until they fall from your tongue all the same—

“I love you alive, Simon.”

His eyes widen at the chance in word. The noticeable difference from like to love.

Your hands balling up against his clothing, his hand gripping your thigh. Perfection. That’s what you think as you hold on for as long as you both can, making sure he knows you mean them. Your words.

Then you feel it, his heart hammering more purposefully against your wrist, as you clutch onto him a little tighter.  

And then, he lifts the fabric from his chin, letting you see soft pink and stubble, before he kisses a reply against your lips, over and over again.

One which burns in all the right ways; one which you carry with you, as you make sure he’s safe as you stare down the scope.

[threepandas]

Always Listening: Yandere Present Mic

[Tracked down uncropped version! Art by @moromi100] ‐-----‐---------------------------------------------------------‐------------------------------------------------------------

It starts and you didn't notice. Almost no one in Japan did. Outside of the smartest sentient being on Japanese soil and the living cat-loving cryptid of the underground? No one was intelligent enough, observant enough, and CLOSE enough, to see the surprisingly subtle... hitch in behaviors.

Like a stumbled step. A fumble. The tiniest little twitch that gives away the lie.

It smoothed out immediately, of course, that next step graceful. The smile just as cheerful as ever. Only two sets of eyes SAW. Noted. And considered. What to do, what to do? Do they care enough to interfere? Is this interesting? Will it make one of THEIR'S happy?

It would.

So they did nothing. They could have. Should have. They are supposed to be Heros. And yet...

It starts and you don't notice. It builds and you are blind. But one day? As you jam along to your favorite radio station? It occurs to you. 'Huh, they're playing a lot more of my favorite artists then they used too'. You can't really think of WHY they would do that... maybe they're finally breaking into the big times? Getting their big break?

Good for them!

You go back to jamming out. Wishing you could sing along. But you can't, not in a crowded apartment block. Heck not ANYWHERE outside of a properly sound insulated dwelling. You know better. You've HAD to know better. Got the scars on your face, ears, and neck to prove it.

Fucking muzzles.

A voice Quirk holders common horror story. You'd think of they were so damn common, they'd at least put more work into making them HUMANE. But, no! Obviously our fault for not shutting up fast enough! Or WORSE! Gasp! Possessing voices in the FIRST PLACE!

Oh how DARE we want to TALK! Such a TERRIBLE crime!

You don't really talk to like... half your relatives thanks to that. Jerks. And, yeah, granted, "Talk" is stretching it. YOU could talk until you're blue in the face. THEY wouldn't be able to hear you. Would probably get really sick though. Possibly have a nervous breakdown.

You talk in infrasound, which can cause feelings of fear or awe in folks. You know, that "horror movie" or "something Supernatural is happening" feeling. You could and HAVE made serious BANK just sitting in the back of a high end horror house, reading vaguely spooky sentences into the speakers.

People fainted. Had panic attacks. There was a late blooming Quirk activation, cause some kid legit thought he was going to DIE.

You'd run out of script and were going through take out menus at that point.

Point is? People can't HEAR you. Outside of like a handful of folks with REALLY strong hearing quirks. And your voice is LOW. Not cute at ALL. You kinda hate it. Cause, like? You LOVE to hum. Sing. Be silly. Fun, normal, LOUD, everyday stuff! And you CAN'T. Cause you'll freak people out! Hurt them!

You really kinda hate it, you know?

And your last landlord was getting progressively more shitty about your Quirk. Accusing you of using it when you WEREN'T. Based off the "vibez" and how "creepy" his shitty apartment was at night. Like? Maybe if you CLEANED THE PLACE UP?! It's creepy because it LOOKS like somebody's gonna get stabbed!

But that's the sorta shit that gets innocent people arrested. So no dice! You're OUT.

New place is nicer anyway.

And? When you move in? Cute blonde with a cuter butt. Nice~ You are looking respeeeeectfullyyyy~☆ ooh! Strong blonde! Muscles! NICE. You have a FANTASTIC day. He's chatty! Knows sign! Great laugh! Meet cute with hot new neighbor, maybe? You don't want to get ahead of yourself.

And... and when reachs past you for one of the boxes?

Oh.

The makeup hides it pretty well. But you do the same thing. Scars in the same places. Voice Quirk, huh? No wonder he sounds so nice. It'll be good, you think. To have a neighbor that GETS it.

You stop trying to hide the scarring you forgot to cover up that morning. Get on with it. You notice HIM notice. That's right~ Same hat! You both grin.

But then you slip on the stairs. Thank FUCK new neighbor's just behind you, to catch you befor you fall too far. But of course... you cry out. A yelp, a curse, a babbled apology. Forgetting once again... he can't hear you. That your probably making everything feel like a horror movie.

But... but he DOES.

His jaw's on the floor. Head cocked like a puppy trying to find the source of a new noise. Eyes wide and AMAZED. He asks if that... that "beautiful sound" is you. Your face immediately feels like it's on fire. Oh dear God, he can HEAR you?! You don't know if that's amazing or terrifying. It's... it's been so long!

You had been forced to explain WHY you couldn't, you know, TALK to him in the stairwell. He'd looked so disappointed. It was amazing and too much. You didn't know how to handle it. Or if you WANTED too. But... you think you kinda do?

You and Hizashi, the cute neighbor, kept crossing paths. He's a Teacher and part time DJ. You think. Not the teacher thing, the DJ thing. You KNOW he teaches. He comes over sometimes, to grade English papers and get reminders he can write "you suck. So, so badly. Did you even TRY?" On a child's paper.

They are kids, Hizashi. Remember~ We once, too, were dumbasses~

And you know? It's not just him. Sometimes he brings his tired friend. The one that looks like a cat on a leash. Boneless and miffed to be dragged around when he could be sleeping. You give him you couch. Bought him a kitty patterned blanket and sound canceling head phones.

You're pretty sure you're the favorite right now. Bribery for the win!

Shouta finds your favorite station "Hands Up Radio" amusing. There is definitely a joke you're not getting. You let it go and get back to your hobby. Composing. Granted, no one's ever gonna be able to HEAR it. But you want to make an album. All in infrasound.

Something BEAUTIFUL.

Your mark on the world, you know? Hizashi had even offered up his friends recording studio. Seemed REALLY into. It's been nice, having such a supportive friend. He helps make the food, picks up both your mail, grabs like half the groceries from stores on the way back from his "gig". Other stuff you both get delivered. It's pretty convenient! He even showed you the app.

You kinda hadn't realized? How lonely life was. Back when it was just you.

Then Hizashi rocked up and inserted himself into your life. Brought all his friends. Noise and life and jokes. Fun. Your gut keeps telling you you're MISSING something. That this is too good to be true. A trap. But... but why CAN'T it be true?

The happy sitcom life. No nasty hidden secrets. No suspicious evils in the dark. Just... just a Genuinely Good thing happening for once? Something NICE. A meet cute with a cute guy, that turns into a friendship, that might turn into something more?

And if the voice on the radio sounds really familar? No it doesn't. If Shouta's eyes track and track and TRACK, like a hunter's? Man has an eye Quirk, probably normal. And so WHAT if Hizashi sometimes gets... gets LOOKS in his eyes? Tilts his head at just the wrong angle? And something in your gut KNOWS.

No it doesn't.

It's just anxiety. Hizashi is your FRIEND, damn it! You refuse, refuse, REFUSE! Everything is FINE. It has to be fine! GETS to be fine! You get to have friends and singing and takeout with people who CARE about you! A LIFE! And if Hizashi is a little weird? Then he gets to be weird! You don't see ANYTHING.

You let the radio play. Another song comes on.

It's another favorite of yours.

A coincidence.

You continue listening.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hello there! could we see a prequel of when platonic yandere Erasermic first saw Cloud quirk reader! I feel like the reader wouldn't exactily look like oboro, but then seeing that quirk and having that energetic personality would send the memories of oboro back into there mind

These two mourn Oboro to this day. It’s a major part of both of their characters, woven into their beings. They won’t move on. They can’t forget. So when they see you, something kind of cracks inside them.

Aizawa pauses, and just… stares. His chest tightens painfully, as a deluge of long-buried memories gnaw at his mind. It’s easy to that he’d be the strong one, the stoic one. But he isn’t. He’s a broken man long burdened by grief. It’s clear he hasn’t managed to move on from losing Oboro in the slightest.

However, Hizashi was able to healthily move on to some degree and become a teacher, a DJ, a radio host, a hero. Sure, it’s possible that he uses his exuberance to cope with grief or to draw Aizawa out of his worst moments, but he stills manages to be sunny and bright. All the same, he possesses a well-hidden ruthlessness and an extremely powerful Quirk that he’s not afraid to use. The moment he stops smiling, it’s probably time to run and hide, because something is terribly wrong.

And when he sees you, he stops smiling. There’s a moment where his larger than life personality and cheery disposition both slip, leaving him in a rare state of shocked silence. Hizashi just stands and watches, eyes going wide behind his concealing sunglasses. His gangly arms drop to his sides, his every bit of attention focused on staring you down.

Maybe it’s some kind of cruel joke. Maybe he’s been hit by a Quirk, creating a tailored distraction to keep him from noticing an approaching foe. Maybe he’s just seeing things. But no, he isn’t. You’re real, with his personality and Quirk.

———————————————————————

“Oboro…,” Aizawa mumbles to himself, caught in a similar state to his loudmouth friend. His bloodshot eyes catch on your smile, watching as you chat with a friend. The two of you walk side by side, trails of vapor and fog drifting from your fingertips as you show off your Quirk. Your friend laughs in amazement, watching in awe as the clouds shift into different shapes and figures, bending perfectly to your will.

Once, Oboro had done the same for him. Whenever Aizawa seemed down, he’d whip up a cloud and shape it into the cutest kitten he could manage, often ending up with a horrifically disfigured mess that had his friend stifling a smile.

Words catch in his throat. He can barely think straight. It feels like he can’t even stand.

He stumbles through the halls, making the short trip to his classroom, still empty. He snatches his phone from his pocket, fumbling with it until he has his loud-mouthed on the other end.

“You saw them. I know you did. Why didn’t you… why didn’t you warn me?”

A loud sigh from the other end. “Sorry, Sho. The kid’s in class 1-B, so I figured I’d get the chance to tell you in person. Didn’t think you’d run into them so soon.”

He desperately racks his brain for something to say, some way to respond. Hizashi beats him to it.

“Actually, Nemuri learned before me, and didn’t say a word either. I think she’s a little broken up too, honestly. Least we’re not alone, right?”

At least they’re not alone. Aizawa would agree, but can’t manage to swallow the lump in his throat. He just holds the phone to his ear, wondering if it was a blessing or curse that you didn’t get put in his class.

“They seem like a good kid, Sho. I’m gonna keep an eye out for them.”

“So they don’t end up like Oboro” is the unspoken second half of that last sentence. Voicing it out loud makes it a legitimate fear. Leaving it vague means the image stays vague, the fear stays vague. Just an uncanny feeling of potential danger, rather than outright fear for a child’s mortality.

“You know what, Mic? I think I’ll keep an eye out for the kid too.”

Because he can’t bring himself to relive that scene ever again a child shouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt at UA.

So they’ll look out for you. Nothing strange about it. Nothing serious, no cause for alarm.

Not yet.

[mimastuff]

Headconnons of Rise Tmnt with a secret spider-sona s/o!

Summary - the rise boys s/o had been acting strange ever since the new hero has come to save nyc during the day. One time the gang needed backup and luckily Donnie had sent out a radio frequency that had you getting on your suit and running to help them. But what if your turtle seems to notice the similarities between the two of you? This made your turtle question you more and well it might have just revealed your secret identity…

TW: fluff , mentions of monsters, food, creepy alley ways, fear, mentions of physical touch and opening up.

Pairings: (separate) rise!boys x gn!reader

——————————————————————————

“Guys he’s gaining on us ! We need to find shelter for a second to at least discuss what we do next.” Raphael’s voice boomed as the four boys ran away from what looked as though to be a mutated sewage monster. Donnie’s voice perked up at that ,” all ready on it raph !”

“Here behind this alley. We can stay here until we are ready to fight again” raph pulled them all into a deep alley way that would have any normal person running with the creeps. “What do you mean ‘till we are ready to fight again’? Are the people of New York gonna be okay!” Leo’s eye roll at mikeys worries could be felt for miles. They peered around to see people running and screaming. “Eh they will be fine for a while , at least it will keep him busy”

You could hear raph speak down the alley that your spidey senses had sent you towards. Oh me gosh. You were bound to get caught! Your boyfriend could sense you from a mile away ,in costume or not. This is not going to be good.

“Hey guys what was that noise?” Mikey questioned. They all faced the sudden roll of a garbage can lid and the silhouette of the hero that could be seen throughout Fox News. You in the flesh, stood before themselves. “What are you doing her-“ Donnie barged into Leo’s rant and cut him off.

“Ahh I see you got my radio frequency ! We need a slight favour after all we have done for this city before you came. There is a mutant sewage monster out there terrorising people.” You look at them all with confusion as through what you hear them talk about this seems a quite normal mission “And what is the catch?” You tilted your head and looked around at the boys again. You landed on your boyfriend whom was staring at you with questioning eyes. Maybe this was a bad idea after all…

Raph

- after that incident it was all he could think about

- The way you sounded so familiar and you felt so safe with them.

- Especially with him.

- He needed answers and fast so he did what any normal person would do.

- He went to you.

- As he climbed up the stair case leading to your apartment on the side of the wall a sent rang through his nose.

- Pizza.

- He looked up in your window to see you dancing to your favourite song while placing some slices of his favourite food on a paper plate.

- He was going to walk in he swears !

- But something in him made him stay put

- As you pulled a confused face , you turned around and opened your pantry with your webs.

- You grabbed some ketchup and closed it with your hip.

- He was shocked.

- The clogs turned in his brain. His partner was his only competition.

- He was filled with pride as he had seen what you have fought before on TV.

- His heart couldn’t help but sting with rage and a hint of worry as what you had already gone through was larger than any other.

- He felt betrayed as him of all people would understand what you had gone through.

- He opened your window and walked in.

- You noticed he was in the room and turned around with a smile.

- Eventually after many slices of pizza he brought it up.

- You finally confessed to him that you were in fact spider-man!

- You guys talked for hours about the new boundaries that needed to be set in place

- He would stop the worrying if you opened up more to him

- If that happened, you both swore you would reward each other with lots of love !

- That was a deal no one could refuse :)

Mikey

- When he eventually saw you in the alley way his first thought was ‘there the same height as my partner! Cool :p’

- Bless his heart , really.

- He became more and more restless by the day of whom was behind the mask.

- Sure he had thought you were extremely cool and helped out a lot since you guys kinda shared the villans.

- But even he got jealous at the attention you would get , whether that be positive or not.

- You could feel that something was bothering mikey.

- As we all know mikey is happy to open up and especially to you

- And he is a known bad liar.

- So the truth would have been revealed either way.

- You sat him down at the lair and had a talk about why he has been so strange to say the least.

- Mikey opened up about how he couldn’t shake the feeling of maybe knowing who spider-man actually is.

- You felt in your heart it was the right time to tell him the truth.

- You revealed your secret to him by webbing his notebook and passing it to him.

- His brain caught on and he couldn’t be happier for you !

- He now has more drawing inspiration and can help you more with costume design

- Thats what i call a win , win scenario ;)

- He does feel like he wants you to come to him more about your adventures

- After all he would totally understand!

- I feel like he would also patch you up from a mission

- He would love to do the spider-man kiss with you as well

- He’s very romantic, let him be :)

Leo

- I feel as though he would get very suspicious about who your true identity is

- He would 100% ask loads of questions about you and your skills during the mission

- I feel like he would be such a huge fan of you

- Like some of his moves where inspired by yours

- He would try to impress you and would fail miserably…

- Anyways , after he would ask to hang out again !

- You thought it was cute that he didn’t realise his own partner was behind the mask

- But who were you to complain 🤷‍♀️

- After the whole mission he wouldn’t shut up about it to you

- He was apparently now best friends with spider-man

- You felt a little betrayed as it felt like he loved your hero side more than someone he has known longer

- The real you.

- When it all started to stop , he caught you grabbing something with your webs

- The smirk on your turtle boyfriend was permanently tattooed into your brain

- To your surprise he was in awe of you even more

- spider-man was his s/o

- Sick !

- The only problem is that you have to keep reminding him it’s a secret

- Multiple times he almost slipped up the secret to his brothers

- Obviously trying to brag about his super hero s/o

- You shushed him out of the room which was left with 3 very confused turtles

- Which left one love-sick turtle to yourself :)

- I can see him being your biggest supporter 100%

- He just loves you very much ❤️

Donnie

- he would be so proud of himself that his radio frequency actually worked

- He is secretly in awe of you and loves your work

- He thought it was weird that Sheldon was so calm with you there

- He didn’t really over think it that much as you probably have a more safe aura as you are a Hero after all

- Later , when he came back to the lair he Told you of his latest inventions and you both fell asleep together.

- When don awoke , he couldn’t help shake off the feeling that he knew who spider-man actually was

- So he was up earlier that usuall installing a detection program into his goggles

- This was his most genius yet!

- The plan was simple.

- Meet up with spider-man again , scan them and find out who they really are!

- But he wasn’t sure it would work and he needed a test subject.

- You woke up to your name being called and a scan done by Donnie’s goggles.

- You were afraid of him finding out your secret identity.

- So , you just left him to it.

- When walking back to your apartment, you felt a vibration in your pocket.

- It’s safe to say the phone call had you walking back to the lair as he had in fact revealed your little secret.

- The long talk of why you didn’t tell him and to eventually open up more was very successful.

- After , he even designed some tech for your suit and helped you defeat villans of your own !

- He was over the moon and felt so much love for his own friendly neighbourhood spider-man.

——————————————————————————

And that’s it ! I really hope you guys enjoyed this special treat :) my requests are open if you want me to make any of them ! <333