#His “Sidekick In The Chair” No Longer

[captain-lessship]

When the fic, which you wrote in the bathroom of a Starbucks while really only thinking about lunch, not expecting much to come from it is currently sitting at 311 notes, now has a part two and you know damn well there needs to be another part full of angst and comedy cause you’re a certified sad jester of tumblr.

actually if you guys could send in critiques and advice or what you want it to consist of, that would be positively lovely and so very much appreciated.

[bkgml]

sleeping on katsuki while he works!

katsuki liked to jump the gun on a lot of assignments, he’s not a slacker. so when aizawa announced a final assignment before graduation, you bet your ass he was going to finish it the day it was announced.

he locked himself in his room after school, even though you were whining that you wanted to spend time with him.

the next time you saw him was dinner, he came downstairs to eat with you before heading back up to his room.

“bye, sweets. ‘m gonna go back to work.” he kissed your cheek.

“wait!” you ran up to him and held his hand.

“can i sit in your bed until you’re done? wanna sleep in your room.”

he thought about it.

“alright. if you make a bunch of noise you’re getting fuckin kicked out.”

“deal!”

the two of you walked to his dorm, hand and hand. as you entered his room you ran and jumped on his bed, getting comfy in the sheets with your phone.

“if you’re going to watch something with sound, use my headphones, kay?” he went to sit in his desk chair.

“okay.” you said, grabbing his headphones from his nightstand.

he worked for a couple more hours, driven by his motivation to be the best.

you were getting sleepy though and wanted him to hold you. you didn’t think he’d work for this long.

katsuki assumed you were already asleep, surprised at the lack of noise coming from his bed.

you took his headphones off and stood from the bed, walking to him.

you ran your fingers through his hair and he looked at you. your eyes were drooping and your movements were sluggish.

“hey, baby. why are you still awake?” he questioned.

“i wanna sleep with you katsuki. how much longer are you going to work for?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“i still have a couple more hours of work in me.”

you whine and he runs his fingers against your cheek.

“can i sit with you? miss you.” you lean into his touch.

“yeah, come on.” he turns his chair towards you, hands grabbing under your shoulders and lifting you into his lap, guiding your legs through the arm rests.

now you sit chest to chest with him, cuddling into his form.

‘well this is distracting..’ katsuki thinks, but he can’t help not caring. he wanted to be with you too.

he forces himself to continue working, determined to finish this assignment by tonight.

as he works he occasionally presses sweet kisses to your temple, caresses your cheek and slips his big hand under your shirt to trace your spine.

there’s a portion of the assignment that requires him to watch a video, so he opens the video and is met with a full blast intro from some stupid sidekick.

he jumps and pauses the video, his eyes wide and glued to you.

you whine, trying to hide your face in the comfort of your boyfriends neck.

“i know, sweet girl, ‘m sorry.” he kisses your cheeks.

“just go back to sleep, yeah?”

you blink the sleep out of your eyes, it’s late.

“kats, why are you working so late? can we go to bed now?” you ask sweetly.

he threads his fingers through your hair.

“i’m on the last part, just 20 minutes.” he reasons.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips moving in tandem and he groans softly.

“don’t overwork yourself, it’ll still be here tomorrow.” you drag your hands down his arms soothingly.

“come to bed.” you say into his jaw before pressing a kiss to it.

“fine, let’s go to bed.” he gives in and you smile into his skin, kissing it again.

he surprises you by standing with you still wrapped in his arms.

he propels the two of you onto his bed with a jump. you squeal, hiding your face in his neck.

“katsuki!” he laughs.

the two of you land with him under you to cushion your fall.

once your heart rate returns to normal after the scare he gave you, you wrap your arms around him and press your cheek to his chest.

the moment gets cut short and your heart rate spikes once again when you hear a knock at the door. eyes wide and looking at each other, the silent question stains the air…

‘is that aizawa?!’

you’d be expelled on the spot if the two of you were caught in katsukis room alone. the two of you decide to just stay silent in hopes of him giving up and walking away.

“yo bakugou!!” you hear a whisper-shout followed by more knocks.

katsuki groans and you laugh, getting up and walking to the door.

“hi kiri.” you say as you open it.

“hey yn! can i sleep on the beanbag tonight? i just watched the scariest movie ever made.”

“no!” katsuki shouts from his place in bed.

“yes, you can.” you say, sending a half assed glare to katsuki.

kirishima grins.

“thanks yn! you’re the greatest.” he says while running and jumping onto the massive beanbag in the corner of katsukis room.

you sigh sleepily and walk to katsuki, climbing into bed with him. he turns towards the wall and you accept it, he’s probably worried about showing pda. you end up turning away from him too, moving your foot back to rub against his calf affectionately.

“guys, you know ive seen you act lovey dovey before right? i’ll turn away so you guys can cuddle.” kirishima smiles.

“don’t worry about it kiri-“ you start.

“fine. do it then.” katsuki says, rolling over. he didn’t stop working for nothing! he wants to hold you!

kirishima grins at you before turning away.

you turn to look at your boyfriend. he presses his face into your neck and inhales. shifting to wrap his arm around your waist and put his other arm under your head as a pillow. he pulls you close to his chest. you look up at him and lift your hand from underneath the duvet to stroke at his cheek.

“i love you.” you whisper, quiet as a mouse as to not disturb kirishima.

katsuki grunts in response. you know he means ‘i love you too’ though, he’s just not ready to say it in front of kirishima.

“i love you guys too!” you hear from the beanbag in the corner and you laugh while katsuki grumbles about his friend, still hidden in your neck. he’s breathing deeply, trying to get every drop of the perfume you wear that wore of during the day. he can smell your lotion and the shampoo you use. he thinks he’s never smelt anything as good as you.

he kisses your neck before drifting off into a deep sleep, still tired from the hours of schoolwork he did.

[nocturne-pisces]

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

[kingkatsuki]

— when he stands up for you

Masterlist.

Ahh this is the first one from these little drabbles I’m posting! I really hope you enjoy these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them💕

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

Recruitment days were always a busy time in Dynamight’s agency. Most of the time Bakugou was lucky and could avoid doing the hiring and firing, his HR department more than happy to take care of the payroll. But looking for new sidekicks was important, and these were interviews that Bakugou wanted to deal with personally. He’d already spent the better part of a fortnight shortlisting candidates, Pro-Hero Red Riot had arrived into the agency to help him go through the shortlist. Although you were unsure whether he was more of a help or a hindrance, as the redhead would give you a bored smile whenever he’d escape to refill his coffee mug.

You’d never seen so many interviews scheduled, all appointments for the day postponed in favour of hiring a new sidekick. Smiling softly as you offered each new up and coming Hero a seat as they waited for their turn to impress the number two Dynamight.

You gave him a small smile each time you’d introduce a new interviewee, laying their file and information down in front of him so he could read through their history.

A few hours later you’d finally managed to work your way down the list of candidates to the last name- a young, cocksure hero with a strength quirk. The standout achievements on his resume was that he’d managed to get his hero license before everyone else in his class, saving a coach full of people from falling to their deaths by bending the girders on a bridge. On paper, he sounded pretty impressive. But face to face—

“Oi, how much longer is he gonna be? I got shit to do.” The man shouted from across the room.

You were sympathetic to him, he’d been waiting about fifteen minutes already and usually Bakugou had prompt timekeeping. But a last minute, unexpected call from Uravity had him delayed.

“He’ll be ready to see you soon, thank you for your patience.” You gave him a warm smile from behind your desk as you continued to type out an email to Red Riot’s agency.

“Why don’t you stop checking your Facebook for five minutes and go let him know I’m waiting.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mr Dynamight knows you’re here.” You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from giving a sarcastic retort.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? You were already hoping that he wouldn’t get the position, already dreading the prospect of having to work alongside this man.

“If he knew I was here I’d be in there already,” He sighed, “So fucking incompetent.”

“Excuse me?” You were used to dealing with all sorts of irate people as Dynamight’s secretary, but you’d never experienced such attitude from a potential recruit.

“Is it too hard for you to understand, sweetheart?” The man scoffed, “Now hurry up and let him know I’m here.”

You were certain this was going to be the day you lost your job, a slew of angry words on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep your disposition cheery. But you could feel the corners of your lips drooping down as your brows furrowed in a glare.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Your professionalism was slowly morphing into anger as you stood from your chair behind your desk, glaring at the ma n.

“What did you say?” Your head snapped towards the door to Dynamight’s office which was now wide open, your boss stepping out onto the floor as he’d cleverly heard the commotion.

“Dynamight, sir!” The man’s sneer quickly turned into a disingenuous smile as he made his way over to Bakugou in quick strides, reaching his hand out for him to shake, but Bakugou’s gaze remained focused directly into his eyes.

“Is that how you talk to my staff?”

“She wasn’t doing her job—” The young sidekick dropped his hand as he turned to glare at you, “She wouldn’t let you know I was waiting.”

“She,” Bakugou mimicked his tone, “Was doing her job perfectly. With that kind of attitude you’ll never make it as a hero.”

You felt your heart racing as you watched the scene in front of you, swelling with pride that Bakugou was defending you in front of his asshole as you couldn’t help but admire how pretty he looked when he was irate.

“Get out.” Bakugou spoke over the man who was currently talking about his work history, his patience already thin as he walked directly past him and made a beeline for your desk.

You’d never felt so glad that Bakugou was such an excellent judge of character, thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with a man like that inside the agency each day.

“— I recently finished my work study with Fourth Kind.” He continued.

“One call and no one in this city will hire you,” Bakugou snarled.

The young man looked as though he might cry as his lower lip wobbled, frozen in place as Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest.

“I won’t repeat myself again,” He continued, “Get out.”

You felt vindicated as you watched the man leave, the once cocky persona reduced to nothing as the elevator doors dinged to close. Your entire body felt as though it was on fire from how protective Bakugou had been over you, a heat rising to your cheeks as you avoided eye contact. Afraid you’d give away your feelings for him if you met his gaze.

“Hey,” Bakugou rasped, “You good?”

“I’m okay,” You smiled, “Pretty used to assholes like him.”

“That don’t mean it’s right,” He continued, “Fuckin’ prick.”

“I mean, he was your last interview so at least on the plus side you’re done for the day.” You smiled.

“Let me grab us some coffee and you can help me pick someone.” Bakugou smiled back, already walking towards the machine at the end of the hall.

“I don’t think I’m qualified for that—“ You called out to him.

There was no way you could pick his new sidekick, especially if you picked an annoying one. You’d never hear the end of it.

“You saw the list of people.” Bakugou continued, “And you met them all today, same as me.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“So, it’s settled.” He grinned, checking his watch, “Shit, I didn’t even realise how late it was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty long day.”

“Okay, so new plan.” Bakugou smiled, turning towards you as the coffee machine was still heating up, “Dinner at that little ramen place and you help me pick my new sidekick.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to ask Kiri- Red Riot?”

“I trust you.” He gave you a genuine smile.

The words had you melting beneath his gaze, crimson eyes locking with your own as you felt your knees begin to go weak. Trying to push your feelings for your boss to the back of your mind as you prayed the butterflies would stop fluttering against your ribcage.

“Okay, but you’re paying.” You grinned.

“As if I’d ever let you pay, sweetheart.” Bakugou smiled back.

If you’d been paying attention you would’ve noticed the way Bakugou stood a little closer to you that night as you walked side by side to the little hole in the wall ramen bar, he’d blame it on the brisk winter air if you asked, but it was really because he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the biting chill.

[crazyk-imagine]

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

-

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

-

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

-

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”  

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

-

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

-

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

“I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. “He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

-

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

-

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

-

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

-

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

-

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

-

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

-

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

-

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

-

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

[vampyrsm]

"Cracked Glass." (6.5k)

✽ — pairing: shoto todoroki x reader ✽ — warnings: female reader, smut, mdni, characters are 18+, shoto is a bit of a perv, dacryphilia, spanking, hair pulling, praise kink, car sex, clothed sex, just two strangers fucking yknow how it is, baby as a pet name, creampie. ✽ — author notes: i have such bad shoto brain rot lately, so this is my gift to you all.

Shoto couldn't name a time on one hand when he had been genuinely surprised by something. Having the childhood and school life he had, almost everything received the same impassive glance or the arch of an eyebrow if it intrigued him. But absolutely nothing would've prepared him for what he saw as he turned the corner of the agency parking lot at the sound of glass shattering.

It was a rather dull afternoon, having been in and out of meetings all day. His suit feels too tight, not comfortable enough for him to just be sitting around in his office whilst he's signing off on the paperwork his sidekicks had left on his desk that morning. He huffs, leaning back in the large plush office chair, thighs spreading to try and alleviate some of the uncomfortableness of having his muscles confined in the expensive stitching of his suit.

The meetings weren't of any real importance, all managerial but necessary he supposed. The agency was going through a reshuffle of staff, ranging from heroes who worked underneath Shoto, all the way down to the janitors. He doesn't know exactly why he was asked to attend the meetings but he didn't put up a fight, he didn't have anything else to do anyway.

His head of two-tone hair hits the headrest, eyes staring up, bored, at the plain ceiling. Maybe he could just go and change into his hero suit, and go on a short patrol. At least then he'll have something to do, something to occupy his mind outside of the meaningless paper that sat strewn across his dress.

With a new goal in mind, Shoto nods and stands. Long arms stretched above his head, the seams of his white dress shirt threatening to burst when his biceps involuntarily tense up with the stretch. He's hardly one step around the desk when his work phone rings, and he pouts a little. It's a childish thing to be pouting at the fact they might be keeping him in the building for longer, but he relents. Picking up the phone, a monotone "Shoto here—".

"Sir, there's a disturbance in the parking lot at the back of the agency." comes the voice of his assistant, sounding rather out of breath like he had to run.

"A disturbance? Can't someone else—" Shoto tries, running a hand over his face at the idea of dealing with something like a fight in the car park of all places.

His assistant huffs, not seeming to have the time for Shoto's ability to brush everything off. "No," the man nearly hisses, "Apparently there's someone down there with a weapon, people are scared." and now Shoto is frowning, a weapon, really?

Shoto sighs, running that same hand back up his face and through his hair, before he's swiping up the fancy black suit jacket off the back of his chair and shouldering it on, phone held between his shoulder and ear whilst he pulls it up. "Fine, I'll be there soon." and he hangs up, his assistant just heard sighing in what sounded like relief.

He doesn't waste time then, just in case it is an actual villain who somehow managed to worm their way through his security and into the parking lot. His sidekicks give him side glances as he makes his way out of the office floor in long fast strides, fixing the collar of his jacket when he rounds the stairwell that leads directly to the parking lot.

As he grows closer and closer, he can hear the sound of something. It's pretty loud considering he's still in the stairwell, but he's certain it sounds like something is being broken. A quick shove of the door that leads outwards makes the sound ten times louder, and now he can definitely hear the sound of glass being hit with something hard, and repeatedly.

He's running now, seeing a crowd just at the corner as they gossip and gasp with each.. grunt? can he hear someone grunting? His eyebrows furrow, not able to picture just what's going on until he rounds the corner and makes his way past the crowd that all wordlessly part for the tall Todoroki.

Shoto can't quite believe what he's seeing, eyes owlishly blinking and lips slightly agape at the scene in front of him. Right before him is a woman in just a pair of leggings and a baggy-looking hoodie, a baseball bat wrapped up tightly in two hands before it's being brought down with such force on the black sleek car that the bonnet dents, the windshield has been absolutely destroyed. Multiple holes from where the bat has made contact. There's glass everywhere, shattered into what must be millions of pieces and he's pretty sure that's a wing mirror on the floor—

Wait.

That's his car.

That's a woman, destroying his brand new imported black Mercedes-Benz.

He's absolutely stumped, muscles locking into place as he tries to take in the whole thing. He definitely doesn't know this woman, he knows he hasn't done anything to piss someone off this bad. But he can't fucking help his eyes from drifting from the damage to his car and locking onto her face, she was so beautiful. Even with the nasty scowl on her face, eyes wide with vivid rage and hair messy beyond belief from the exertion it's taking to destroy his car.

A loud gasp catches his attention again, the sound of the car beeping finally reaching his ears and he's pushing forward until he's crunching on the glass. His hands untuck from his pockets, not yet activated with his quirk but ready just in case this goes south.

The sound of crunching catches your attention, your head snapping up and your eyes take a second to focus on the red and white blur in front of you until you register his mouth is moving, and those mismatched eyes are just as wide as your own.

"...What?" you ask, hands wringing against the metal of the bat in your hands when you squint a little at the man, who registers belatedly that he is in fact Pro Hero: Shoto, No. 3.

"I said, put the weapon down and no one has to get hurt," Shoto repeats, calmly, and his palms open in front of him to prove that he's not going to use his quirk on you if you just hand it over. He can see the debate behind your eyes, the way you glance at the destruction that lays just in front of you before your eyes meet his again. His muscles tense up, locking up and ready to pounce—

The clanging of the metal bat bouncing off of the floor and rolling along the floor makes his stance relax just slightly, he makes his way around to the bat and rolls it off somewhere behind him with his foot whilst his eyes never once leave your face. Your eyes are all puffy like you'd been crying for hours.

He casts a glance over towards the crowd, who all make themselves scarce at the frown he gives them at wasting time on the clock before he looks back at you and tilts his head with a question. "Want to explain to me why you did that?" he makes sure to keep his tone calm, and impassive, he doesn't want to make you feel worse than you already do.

You sniffle, rubbing a fist over your nose as you meet his gaze, quickly darting it down and at the destroyed car. "Asshole fucked over my best friend," you finally admit, and Shoto is once again confused. Did he fuck someone over? Is he the asshole here?

Then you say the name of one of his sidekicks, and he almost wants to sigh a breath of relief. So he wasn't the cause of this apparently 'well-deserved' outrage, so you say.

"—then when I found out he was just some sleazy sidekick working under a big shot hero," you stop yourself mid-sentence, seeming to remember that you're ranting to that same 'big shot hero'. You sheepishly glance at Shoto, who just has an eyebrow arched at you for a second as he debates on what to say.

He sighs, "I'm sure it was well deserved. It's a shame that's not his car," he supplies, shrugging a little when you go wide-eyed and gawping like a fish out of water at the realisation that you destroyed some random persons car.

"It's mine."

And it's almost comical the way the blood drains from your face, how you look almost like you've seen a ghost as you stare up at him with glassy wide eyes. He waits for a moment, to see if you'd make a move. He expects you to try and make a run from the crime scene, but instead, you start crying. Big, fat tears that are streaking down your already sodden cheeks, and you're heaving in heavy breaths.

"I-I'm so.. s-sorry!" you try to breathe out, eyes barely open as the tears just come and it makes Shoto uncomfortable, but not in the way most would think. It makes him uncomfortable because he can feel the tightness of his pants worsen a little more at the indecent thought that passes through his brain at lightspeed, a thought of what you'd look like if you were crying whilst bouncing on his cock, begging him to make you cum after he denied it so many times.

It's a perverted thought, downright disgusting but he can't help but entertain it a little when you sniffle and rub again at your nose, now facing him and you're pleading about something, blubbering about you'll repay him back—he knows you can't afford it—but he lets you cry about it.

He wonders what it'd be like having you pleading for his cock.

Your movement snaps him from the thoughts fogging his mind, you're digging around in a bag that he didn't even notice you had. His eyebrows furrow until you try pulling out your purse and he frowns. You really were going to try and pay him off, he doesn't even care about the destruction of his car. It's not like he's lacking in money, and even if he was he's sure he could pull the youngest child string on his father and get a brand new one.

"Don't worry about it," he lays a cold hand directly on top of yours as you try to pull out what looks like hardly 13,000¥. You freeze at the contact on your hand, marvelling for a second at how his hand feels like it's been dunked inside of an ice bath. "You can repay me by letting me take you for dinner tonight."

You blink up at him, big and owlish, trying to process the words that he had just said. His face is giving away nothing, it's hard to tell if he's joking or being genuine but the way his eyebrow furrows just slightly and his lips flatten into a line tells you he's expecting an answer. You fumble for a second, hands stuffing the money back into your purse and you miss the look on his face at the loss of contact when you look down to zip up your bag.

"You're serious?" you question, and he nods in return. "Oh. Uh, well, sure?" he sees you're hesitant, he doesn't blame you for thinking that it's a prank or a trap of some kind. Any normal person would've had you arrested for the destruction of property and demanded you pay up.

He licks his lips, eyes finally darting away from you and towards his car. His hand that was once in contact with your own curls into a tight fist at his side when he speaks again, "Give me your number," he contains the wince at how blunt he's being, he remembers the speech Izuku gave him about being so straight forward towards women in the past but he can't help it, he's just met you and he wants to have you pinned beneath him already.

You don't hesitate in pulling out your phone, and offer it up to him once you unlock it. His fingers brush against your own, a shiver subtly shooting up along your spine. Once the details are exchanged, he doesn't say much else other than telling you he'd text you when he's going to be picking you up and a quick "Dress nice." before he's turning away and disappearing behind the door that leads upstairs.

...

Shoto: Just wear something nice, it doesn't matter too much. It's just dinner.

A single text message that had been haunting your mind the entire evening as you prepared to meet with Shoto again, he really gave you no time to even really think about it or find something "nice" for this supposed "just dinner", you felt horribly underdressed. Having a few dresses for going out was one thing but having to dress up for a pro hero, the number three at that, was an entirely different issue. He was rich, everyone knew that and if that fancy car that you trashed this morning was anything to go by - it'd be safe to say he was rolling in it.

So here you were, standing in front of your apartment building looking like an idiot. The area you lived in wasn't a bad one compared to others but you still stood out like a sore thumb, you had pulled out one of the "nicer" dresses you owned, in truth you had only really ever worn it when you went out with your friends on nights out. It stopped around midthigh, tight around your waistline and accented your cleavage but you still felt like some two-bit hooker stood out in front of your building whilst you waited for the pro to arrive.

Pulling your phone from the small purse you had brought, you swiped through it absentmindedly, going through text messages to ensure you were actually the one on time - you were, Shoto was just taking his time. You pursed your lips a little, lip gloss shining in the pale light that was coming from the overhead street light before you felt a rumble in your chest, it made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck and goosebumps ran wild along your arms as you lifted your head up from the screen that was illuminating your face.

Your eyes watched as a black, clearly very expensive, sports car rolled up in front of your apartment, the engine roaring as it rolled to a stop just in front of you revealing Shoto who was quick to get out of the driver's side. His hands came to his jacket as he buttoned up a single button and made his way around the front of the car, white and red hairs swept back beautifully with gel. You could tell just by the stitching on the suit that it cost more than your yearly pay grade, he looked handsome.

He finally came to a stop in front of you, his lips filling with a smile as he looked down at your dress. He couldn't help the thoughts that floated through his mind, the way your legs were mostly exposed and how good your breasts looked. You'd be the death of him tonight. "You look beautiful," he offers finally, words coming from his mouth so easily it surprises you. You couldn't stop the heat that rose to your cheeks at the compliment, he said it in such a soft and slightly lower tone, his eyes were drinking up your form completely.

Your eyebrows shoot up, giving yourself a glance down before looking back up to meet his gaze. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself." you smile gently, a gentle chuckle coming from somewhere deep in Shoto's chest.

He let his fingers wrap around your hand softly, guiding you a few steps back towards the car since you were still frozen in the spot. You subconsciously squeezed your fingers against his hand as he came to a stop and stood with you at the door of his car, he leaned in a little close which made your breath hitch until you heard the click of the car door, opening it up for you.

You let your hand drop from his own, still blushing and hoping he couldn't see how his words and actions were affecting you. You slipped into the car, letting the soft plush leather of the seats melt against your exposed skin as you watched him close the door and walk around the front of the car, the headlights highlighting his suit and the glint of a very expensive-looking watch on his wrist as he adjusted his suit jacket once again.

Shoto relaxed into the seat next to you, his hands barely moving against the steering wheel as he started to drive so effortlessly like he could shut off his brain completely and be fine with it. Your eyes narrowed slightly to the now visible wristwatch since his jacket sleeves were slightly pulled up from him holding onto the steering wheel, your eyes slowly wandered along his suit then, admiring the stitching, the colours, everything. He was exquisite, you could see exactly now why the magazines fawned over him so much.

"So about that sidekick," he started, eyes meeting yours for a split second before he continued to focus on the road. You blinked out of the very obvious staring stupor you were in, your eyes quickly darting to look forward at the road. "I spoke with management, we're pretty happy with dropping him from the agency. We don't need someone like him on our team. Apparently, we'd had a few reports about his behaviour in the last couple of years but no one had ever brought it up to me."

Your silence prompted him to look at you once again when he stopped at a redlight, eyebrow arched at your wide eyes and slightly parted lips before they curled into a gentle smile. "Thank you." was your reply, meeting his gaze again and Shoto swore his heart began to beat faster, fluttering in his chest at the sight of such a pretty smile directed towards him.

His fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, his mind at war for a second as he soaked in the gentle look you were giving him. He wanted to devour you. The flickering of red to green snaps his eyes back to the road, and his foot presses firmer on the pedal. He can't stop the raise in temperature of the car when his minds flicker to the dress you're wearing, how good it would look with it all bunched up at your hips whilst you ride him—

"Shoto?" you break his train of thought, and he blinks in surprise to find he drove completely on autopilot to the restaurant parking lot. It wasn't overly populated, being that it was still the middle of the week. You say his name again and he finally glances at you, swallowing hard when he realises you have a slight sheen to your skin now from the temperature of the car, he wants to lick it off your skin.

"Are you o—" your squeak of surprise is muffled by the pro hero who seemed to lunge himself across the middle console, lips pressing hard against your own and you're frozen for a moment like a deer in headlights. But the second a cold hand lays on the side of your neck, long fingers curling into the hair at the base of your skull has you melting into the kiss completely. Lips parting in response to his movements, his tongue brushing against your own in a few delicate kisses before the hand tightens in the hair he was previously holding. You gasp, the sudden small shot of pain that danced its way down your spine and directly between your thighs had you completely pliant in Shoto's hands.

He was just hovering by your lips, huffing heavy hot breaths against your mouth as his heavy-lidded eyes scanned over your own. "Tell me this is okay," he pleads, almost a whine in his voice when he continues "If not, I'll stop right now and take you home." but the thought of being taken home, all horny and needy sounded like the worst possible idea.

"I want this," you breathe back, eyes rolling back when his lips drag along your own and down to your jawline. "Please, I want you so bad." and he smiles against your cheek, pecking a soft kiss against the fat of it before leaning back so he was once again at eye level with you. The slightly glassy look in your eye was making it impossible for him to control his thoughts, making it hard to hear the small voice in the back of his mind telling him to slow down. He just met you. But that all went down the drain when you moaned, it was quiet and breathy, but it was enough to make his stomach tighten and his mind shut off.

It all happened in one smooth succession, he leaned back just enough to pull on something so his seat shifted backwards and then he was pulling you over the console and into his lap. Both of your thighs were on either side of his own, your dress straining against the stretch but it was giving Shoto the perfect little sneak peek of what could be lying beneath. His hands stroked along your sides, marvelling in the difference in your size and his hands as his hands moved over the dips and curves of your body. He thought you were beautiful, a goddess he had managed to wrangle into his lap.

"God, you're so pretty," he muttered more so to himself, admiring the way your skin was pliant under his firm grip, squeezing in places to watch you writhe naturally down into his lap. "I want to fuck you." and the way he says it so bluntly, so straight to the point it has you clenching around nothing, dripping at the idea of having this man buried between your thighs. "Will you be a good girl and let me?"

Your eyelashes flutter, your gaze hazy at the sight of the man who's beneath you. The praise that rolled off of his tongue was so effortless, that you supposed made sense, everyone always said Shoto Todoroki was such a gentleman. With great effort, you manage to nod through the lust-filled fog settling heavily on your mind, but Shoto just clicks his tongue and a cold hand is spanking the side of your thigh.

"Words, sweetheart. I know you can use them." It should've been condescending, the tone he used, but it just made you even needier for the man.

"Please," you start, leaning forward so your lips brush against his own. "Please, Shoto, I'll be a good girl." and you're nodding as if to make your words more believable, and he does believe you. He knows you'll be a good girl for him if the way you're throbbing against his thighs is any indicator. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when you take the initiative to duck your head to the side, nipping and kissing along his sharp jawline and down along the pulse point in his throat.

His hips jerked upwards on instinct, rolling against the exposed expanse of the lace panties you wore and pulling one of the sweetest noises he had heard all night from your pretty lips. Your hands travelled the expanse of his chest, undoing the button of his suit jacket before your hands pressed hard against the muscles beneath his shirt. Your nails curling naturally against the prominent six pack you could feel, and Shoto couldn't control the shiver that rolled over his body nor the more harsh jerk of his hips upwards.

And finally, your hands landed on the bulge between his legs, delicate fingertips brushing along the hard length that was being painfully compressed in his trousers. He hissed at the way you pressed a little firmer against the vein leading all the way to the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily once again. Shoto cracked open his eyes to meet your hazy eyes, and the smirk on your lips was enough to know you were having far too much fun teasing him.

But before he could air his minor annoyance at being toyed with, you were untucking the bottom of his once crisp dress shirt and undoing the thick leather belt, all whilst keeping your eyes locked with his mismatched ones. It was like he was entranced, letting your hands manipulate his trousers until they were open and your warm hand wrapped around his cock had him groaning deep in his chest.

He couldn't stop his head from hitting the headrest harshly when you broke eye contact to glance down at his cock, it was unbelievably pretty—the mushroom head an angry red from the harsh restraints and teasing, it was flushed a light pink all the way down to the mixture of red and white pubes that trailed up into a pretty happy trail. Of course, Shoto Todoroki, the most eligible bachelor in all of Japan would have the prettiest cock you had ever had the pleasure of holding.

The slither of spit that leaked from your lips and made contact with the tip of his cock made Shoto moan, actually moan, the contrasting difference between the white-hot skin and your cool spit. Then the way your palm covered the head of his cock, thoroughly spreading your saliva along his cock until you were jerking him gently, yet quickly. His eyes were locked with your own, his eyebrows pulled together in what would look like he was in pain but he felt euphoric. It wasn't often that Shoto got the chance to divulge his fantasies, never one to sleep around with the plethora of girls who threw themselves at his feet.

He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

So he slipped his hands along your thighs, fingertips digging harshly into the plushness of your thighs until the dress you were wearing was hiked up over your hips and he got a full view of the pretty lacy panties you were wearing. His hands automatically went to them, running his fingers down and around until he grasped the globes of your ass. "You wear these for me?"

You've pulled your lip between your teeth, and the gaze you're giving him through his eyelashes is enough of a confirmation. You wanted to be fucked. His hand left your ass for a second before you were pressing forward into his chest, hand halting on his cock as you gasped loudly at the sharp pain that radiated along the skin of your ass cheek before a cool hand was smoothing over it, instantly cooling the skin off from the harsh slap. "You're a secret little slut, aren't you?" he mumbles against your temple, taking a deep inhale of that sweet perfume you wore for him. For him, he realises, you did it all for him.

His fingers stroked along your hips again until one slipped between your thighs, gliding hot fingers against the wetness that had been sticking to your lips for a while now. He groaned alongside your soft moan when he found your clit, rubbing tight slow circles against it through the soiled material of your panties. "You're soaked baby, you must be so desperate.. hm?"

It's a rhetorical question, you know that, but you can't stop the pitiful nod of your head and the needy pout you give him when he continues to tease you through the outside of your panties. He must take pity on the way you're looking at him because those same fingers dip to the side and pull your panties out of the way, revealing the hot stickiness of your lips to the air. Shoto wastes no time in dipping those same fingers down through your wet heat, dragging the slick back and forth until it was stringy when he pulled his fingers back to tap at your clit.

"So needy." he chuckles softly at the way you writhe, trying to seek out his hand again that pulls away to cover your own that's still been tightly wrapped around his cock this whole time. "Don't worry, I got you.." is all he says before angling the tip of his cock between your thighs, the thick head spreading your lips apart effortlessly to coat himself in your fluids.

Your hand that was once occupied by his cock presses against his chest, curling into the material when he finally shifts just a little lower until he's breaching the tight ring of muscle that has you gasping, tensing your thighs up on instinct. Shoto struggles to choke down the groan at the sudden tightness wrapped around the tip of his dick, his spare hand coming down to rub a warm soothing finger against your clit to entice you into relaxing. "Relax sweetheart, promise it'll feel good if you just relax."

"Hurts, Sho'." you sniffle, and his eyes instantly dart up from between your legs and to your face to see the hot tears bubbling at your eye line. Your nose is scrunched up a little at the clear pain of next to no prep, but you're not giving up with the way you roll your hips subtly to help with inching him further into your pussy. "'s too much."

And fuck if you don't sound even better than how he imagined that very morning when meeting you when you were blubbering about paying for his car. He can't stop the way he bucks his hips up, burying the rest of his length deep inside of you with a deep groan. Your hands are curling painfully against his pecs, nails somehow digging into his skin enough to draw out thick red lines beneath the shirt.

He lets you settle on his lap, quivering against his chest with the odd sniffle as you just let him stretch you out. It feels like he's in fucking heaven, and all he wants to do is grab your hips and fuck up into you until you're creaming on his cock.

"Move, Sho'," you mumble against the dewy skin of his throat after a moment of relaxing around his girth, giving your own experimental roll of your hips which earned you a pretty moan from Shoto. His hands readjusted on your hips, thick long fingers hooking just under the crease of your butt to hoist you up enough so just the tip of his cock was buried in your plush heat.

And then he let go of the restraints, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your downward thrusts at a pace that was far from slow, far from gentle. The sound of his thighs meeting yours was loud, and you were aware somewhere in the back of your mind that the car was most definitely bouncing from the force of his thrusts.

"Oh, oh my god," you moan in total abandon, eyes fluttering as you try to focus on the man who is mere inches away from your face. Both of his arms have snaked around you, pulling you hard into his chest as he leans fully back into the seat that must've been laid further back at some point. His large palms are splayed out along your spine and shoulderblades, pinning you to his sweaty body as he pounds deep and fast into you.

Shoto is struggling to keep his own eyes open, his mixture of grey and blue eyes meeting yours despite the way you're being jostled on his lap. "So fuckin' tight, you feel s'good baby." he manages to get out between his heavy panting, hissing at the way you clench around his cock at the pet name. "You like that? You like me calling you baby?"

He thinks you're nodding, it's hard to tell with how hard he's drilling into you but you keep clenching around him, moaning when he hisses the pet name when you arch your back a little more and bounce your hips of your own volition. "'m close, g'nna cum f' you." you sound utterly fucked out already, cock drunk from the way the tip of his cock keeps ploughing without mercy against the squishy soft spot deep inside of you and making your hips twitch as you get closer and closer to your slice of heaven.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," he brushes a hand along your cheek, moving the hair away from your eyes and holding your gaze. He never believed you would be capable of becoming somehow even more beautiful, but here you were; drool-covered lips, flushed features and glassy eyes from the tears that haven't stopped rolling down your cheeks from his vicious pace. You were a piece of art, and all because of him.

You're writhing against him, and he tilts his head a little to slot his lips just against your own. Not quite kissing you just yet, not until after he mutters a "Cum," against your lips. He occupies every part of your mind, swallowing you whole with the way he kisses you and the way he continues to seamlessly fuck up into you when your orgasm hits hard. You moan loud and long against his mouth, muffled with each peck of his lips.

Shoto is the first to break off, leaning his head back to admire the sight before him. You're bouncing on his cock just from the power of his own hips, your dress had long been moved from your chest from the way he had been fucking you. Then his eyes shifted down to the loud wet squelching noises coming from between your legs, a white ring formed around the base of his cock and melting into the coarse hair there.

"Such a good girl, you did so well for me sweetheart." he's rubbing soothing circles against your hips, letting you roll them gracefully against his own to let you come down from the orgasm that you hit you hard. You hum in response to his words, eyes closed as you keep your forehead pressed hard against his shoulder.

He lets you do this for a few more minutes, just gently coming down whilst he embraces you, a cold hand hooked on the back of your neck beneath your ruined hair to try and help cool you down faster. "You okay?" he mumbles against your hairline, rocking his hips with your own when you start to pick up the pace just a little bit more.

"Yeah, yeah," you whisper, planting a kiss against his throat before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "Wanna make you cum too," you smile, biting your lip gently when he thrusts his hips up again into you. "Want you to use me to cum, Sho'." and you giggle at the deep sultry groan that bubbles deep in his chest, rumbling against your hands that are pressed against you.

"You might regret that," is all he says before he's spreading his legs just a little bit more, as much as he can in a car anyway, his hands instantly latching onto your ass and throwing you up a little more over his body so your tits are directly in his face. And then he's thrusting up into you again, whilst his lips latch onto the nipple that slipped from the confines of the dress.

The vigorous pace was back, the pro displaying his stamina beautifully with the way he's effortlessly holding you up for him to fuck up into you with such force it's making your eyes cross and your stomach tighten again as the familiar white-hot heat flushes over you from head to toe. He nips and bites along your chest, moving between your nipples to make sure they're all fluffy and sore from his ministrations. You must be close again because he twitches deep inside of you mid-thrust when you clamp down around him, velvet walls squeezing him for all his worth as he tries to bully his way through the sudden tightness.

"Please," you mumble, and he doesn't even know what you're begging for but he's happy to try and meet your pleas with his even rougher thrusts, throwing his hips harshly up into yours as you drop down just as hard. "Oh, fuck, fuck." is the only warning he gets before your entire body ceases up, your muscles locking you into place and Shoto can't stop the loud moan that escapes his lips from the intense way you're clenching around him.

He doesn't stop, however, still doing his best to thrust up into you as he cums deep inside of you, unable to stop himself or even ask if he was allowed to. But fuck it felt so fucking good, your pussy was practically massaging it out of him with the rhythmic twitches of your walls.

Slowly he begins to slow down his thrusts, letting you relax on his lap with his cock still buried deep inside of you as both of your essences begin to spill from the tight confines of your pussy. He lays kisses against your shoulder, up along your neck to your ear as you heave out deep breaths, trying to refocus your mind after he fucked your brains out.

"Fuck." Shoto is the first to speak, muscles slowly relaxing and melting into the leather of his car. You laugh breathlessly, the warmth blooming against his exposed collarbones before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "I really didn't plan to have this happen so soon."

You arch an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips. "'So soon'? so you were planning on it happening at some point?" and Shoto somehow has it in him to look bashful, heat painting his pretty cheeks as he narrows his eyes to look out of the window. That's all you needed as your answer, as you leaned forward and laid a delicate kiss against his cheek before shifting up and off of him, both of you hissing at the sudden loss of heat.

"You think we'll still have our reservation?" you ask once settled back into your seat, sorting out your dress the best you could but it was really no use, he'd fucked you within an inch of your life in the thing. Shoto laughs, a low barely audible thing but it's beautiful nonetheless as he meets your eyes.

"No, I don't think so." he relaxes into his seat after tucking himself away, running a sweaty hand through his hair to try and keep it out of his eyes. "But I could always take you back to my place? Maybe try doing the whole thing the correct way this time."

And you hum as if in thought, "Sounds good." you smile, and he offers you one in return at the relief that washes over him at you accepting his offer to try and fix his fuck up of being unable to control himself before he even had the chance to take you to dinner.

But you both know deep down inside, that he's going to end up fucking you the second you step inside of his apartment, and again for many nights after that.

oh my god i didn't realise just how much i had written until after lmao, anyway hope you enjoyed :) lowkey this was a bit of a mess but i tried to give some plot to build towards my horny thoughts

↳ [masterlist]

reblogs & likes appreciated!

[ooo-yeah-baby]

Potion Pt2

Yandere Benny Weir x reader

I only right sfw, feel free to request! Not proof read.

Benny fiddled with the pink bottle in his pocket as he approached the *object* of his obsessèd affection. 

"Hey, Y/N." He said, sliding into the seat next to her in science class, the first class of the day for the two and they were the first ones in the class for some convenient reason; Ethan and Rory were also in this class but they hadn't arrived yet. 

"Hey, Benny!" She smiled, setting her phone down. "Where's your sidekick?" The girl joked, nudging him with her elbow. 

"Looks like he's not here yet." Benny shrugged back,  a tint of pink flooded to his cheeks and a tingly feeling went to where her elbow had touched him. 

He noticed the water bottle sitting on the table in front of Y/N; the perfect tool. 

"Hey, do you mind if I take a drink?" He pointed to the water bottle. "I'll take the lid off so you don't get my cooties." Y/N giggled a little, he loved her giggle;

"Sure." Then she slid the bottle over to Benny. " I put lemonade in it though so be warned."

Benny nodded in response, slowly undoing the lid and taking a sip. Y/N returned to her phone,  no longer paying attention to the boy next to her, giving Benny the chance to slip just a little bit of his potion into her drink, then screw the lid back on. 

"Thanks." He said as he slid back in his chair, trying to act nonchalant. 

"No worries," Y/N didn't even look up from her phone. He was in the clear. 

Benny spent the whole rest of class waiting for Y/N to take a sip of her drink. Just a sip was all he needed for his plan to start taking effect. 

Eventually, towards the last few minutes of class, she took a drink from her bottle. Benny grabbed her chin, making her turn to look at him just before a pink flash went through her eyes. 

She was his. 

After that all he had to do was find ways to gradually feed her more of the potion until it was gone. 

The more he gave her the more she started to love him back. She was like putty in his hands, much like he was putty in hers. 

He loved her so much he started to get ahead of himself, they were already dating but he wanted more. Benny couldn't stop the lingering feeling of not wanting anyone to talk to her, not even Ethan. 

And Ethan knew exactly what Benny was up to. It couldn't've possibly been a coincidence that right after Benny made the love potion, the two began going out. 

It was like the two were playing capture the flag with Y/N as the flag. Back and forth the two would try to get Y/Ns attention, Benny often achieving more than Ethan. 

But really, what could Ethan do? He didn't have any magic. He didn't know how to break the spell. He couldn't do anything. 

Except, he could tell Grandma. 

It'd be hard with how territorial Benny was being at the moment though. Benny wasn't even letting him over to his house. He'd use excuses like;

"Oh! We're getting new flooring!"

"Sorry, we're not home now!" 

And sometimes just blatantly telling him he can't come over. 

And all the while Y/N was consuming more and more of Benny's potion. 

After a few weeks, Ethan was finally able to get Y/N alone. 

"Ethan?" He had pulled her from the hall into the janitors closet. The pink in her eyes was blazing. Ethan grabbed her hand, hoping to see a vision. 

What flashes through his mind was confusing- a view of date and hearts and P.D.A. At the end of the vision Ethan could hear a few words and then Y/Ns eyes changed back to their original color. Ethan coudnt make out the words though. 

During this, Y/N was getting worried. 

"Ethan... I should probably get going now... Benny is probably looking for me." 

"Don't go to him!" Ethan shouts. Y/N flinches. 

"What do you mean?" 

"It's... hard to explain... but just stay here for a few more minutes..." Y/N nodded but her agreeable nature didn't last long. A few minutes later Benny could be heard yelling for Y/N out in the hall. Her eyes flash and she reaches for the door handle. 

"Y/N please! Just a few more minutes..." Ethan held her arms tighter. Then, the door opened. The two fell out of the closet, Ethan landing on top of Y/N. Benny stood above them, a deep scowl on his face. 

He grabbed Y/Ns hand and yanked her up, shoving Benny to the side. 

"Stay out of it." He said as he walked away with Y/N wrapping herself around his arm. 

[topguncortez]

Coach's Kid | Jake & Shy!Wifey

Opposites Attract Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Jake tries his hand at the whole coaching thing, which goes pretty well. . . until his son gets hurt

word count: 2.0k

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, tears

Jake had made a promise that when his kids came to the age of wanting to play sports, he was going to let them decide what they wanted to do. Of course, Jake wanted at least one to play football and follow in his footsteps of playing D1 ball somewhere (hopefully the University of Texas), but he was going to be supportive of whatever they decided to do. So when Alex came home one day with a soccer ball, Jake had totally immersed himself in the world of soccer. 

Soccer Weekend tournaments had become a weekly occurrence during the fall in the Seresin household. Alex had paved the way for his siblings to follow right in his footsteps. It made tournament weekends a bit more difficult the older they got, and Alex and Ella no longer played on the same team, but the dagger squad helped step in to cover games. 

Jake had taken over being the coach for Alex’s team, something he had always dreamed of doing. Mickey had stepped in to be his assistant coach because if Jake was being totally honest. . . he didn’t 100% understand soccer yet. But, he liked to watch his kids have fun and play a sport that they liked. 

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and Alex was playing his last game of the weekend. The team he was playing on was a junior team, as it was his last year before he would play in high school. Ella had finished her games, her team losing their final match by a penalty kick. Eli had run off with a girl he swears he doesn’t have a crush on, and the Seresin twins were doing their job as the waterboys for the team. 

Y/N was sitting on a blanket under one of the tents that they had brought. After years of going to soccer games, baseball games, and wrestling meets, she had gotten good at packing for events. Ella was sitting in a lawn chair with her feet in a bucket of ice. Rooster sitting in the bleachers near the team bench with Javy. While Val, Dragon, and Phoenix all sat with Y/N. 

“How’s the ankle, Elles?” Val asked and Ella picked up her swollen ankle. She had rolled it during the game, “Looks better.” 

“Yeah, not as swollen,” Ella nodded and looked back towards her brother’s game, “Aunt D are you gonna let Cash play when he’s old enough?” 

Dragon looked up at her niece, who had her two-year-old sitting in her lap, “Not sure. I think Uncle Birdy is gonna try and make a baseball player out of this one. Besides, he saw that tumble you took and almost took off sprinting on the field, not sure I’ll be able to stop him again.” 

“Maybe he’ll let the next one,” Ella giggled, nodding her head toward Dragon’s rounded belly. 

“You see how he is with this one,” Dragon said, handing her son a fruit pouch as he sat on Ella’s lap. 

"Come on, Alex!" Jake cheered as the eldest Seresin broke away from one of the opponent’s defenders and made his way down the field, "Go for the goal!"

Y/N’s eyes watched as her son had an open field, no opponent insight as he dribbled the ball down the field. Alex looked over at his teammate, who pointed right for the goal, giving him the go-ahead to make the shot. Y/N stood up from the ground, watching as her son prepared to score. It all happened so quickly, Alex drew his leg back to make a sidekick as an opponent came and collided with him. Jake gasped as Alex fell to the ground with a yell.

"Oh shit," Jake said, and moved quickly towards his son on the field, but was stopped by Mickey as medics went on ahead to him. 

“Oh my god,” Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, feeling sick at the sight of her boy on the ground in pain. 

"Mom, what happened?" Ella asked, standing up from her chair. Val stood up too, as a team of medics raced towards Alex on the field. She grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it.

"I don't know," Y/N said.

Alex curled into the fetal position as he cried, holding his knee, which was at a slightly odd angle. He tried to push himself up, but his teammates were telling him not to move. 

"Don't move, Seresin," One of his teammates said, and crouched down next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulders, “Medics are on their way.”

"I want my dad!" He cried.

"Hey buddy, we’re gonna get you off the field,” One of the medics said, “Can you tell us what hurts?” 

“My knee feels like it exploded,” Alex said, laying on his back and looking up at the clear blue sky. He rubbed his eyes with his fist and the medics looked at each other. 

“Okay, let's get him off the field," One of the medics said, "We're going to stand you up, and walk you off okay."

Alex nodded as they gently pulled him up into a sitting position and then up to his feet. His right leg was bent and he refused to straighten it or put any weight on it. He kept her arms draped over one of his teammates and a medic's shoulders as they walked him off the field, towards the ambulance.

"Alex," Jake said, as they approached. Y/N had run over to wait by the ambulance, and Alex reached out for his mother. 

"We're going to take him to just the local hospital, by my guess, he tore a ligament. One of you is more than welcome to ride along," The medic said and Jake looked at his wife.

“You go,” She said, “He’s going to be upset and will only want to talk to you.” Jake looked at his boy in the back of the ambulance. He might’ve been almost fourteen, and almost the same height as him, but he looked so small in his current state.  

“Okay,” Jake kissed his wife quickly before climbing into the ambulance and sitting down on the opposite side of the gurney across from the medic taking Alex’s vitals. 

“We’ll meet you at the hospital, Lex,” Y/N said and the boy looked up at his mother briefly and nodded, before looking down at his swollen right knee. The other medic shut the doors and jogged around to the driver’s side. Y/N clutched her necklace as she watched them drive away with her son and husband. 

The whole drive was silent except for the beeping of the heart monitor they had Alex hooked up to. His green eyes never left his knee, the worse thoughts filling his mind.

"Hey," Jake said, wiping the tears from his face, "It'll be okay. They'll run some scans and see what's wrong."

"My dream is over before it even started," Alex said, his voice cracking.

It had always been Alex's dream to go play D1 soccer for the University of San Diego. Jake had been taking him to games whenever he could, and Alex fell in love with the team. He had posters of his favorite players around his room, signed shirts, and soccer balls. Alex had never thought of anything else than going to play soccer, and now he saw that dream going right out the window.

"Ya know when I broke my collarbone my junior year of high school? I was already planning on signing to UT that spring, but the second I heard that snap. . .they snatched the offer," Jake said, "I thought, right then and there, looking down at my arm in a sling, that everything was over. There was no more football player dream. But I learned to overcome the setback. I learned to adapt to it, and I went as a walk-on for Navy, and ended up being the star quarterback my sophomore year."

"Breaking your collarbone and tearing something in your knee are two different things, Dad."

Jake rolled his eyes, "My point is, we can't give anything up until we know what is going on. It could be that you popped some water sac in your knee and that's why it's swollen. You could've just sprained something. No need to set a fire where it's not needed."

— — — 

About two hours later, Y/N was standing outside her car, waiting for Jake and Alex to walk out. Jake had texted her and said that the doctor confirmed, Alex had torn his ACL. Y/N’s heart broke for her little boy, knowing how much this was going to set him back. She had already been searching and looking up ways to help Alex heal. 

A small smile graced her face as Jake pushed Alex out of the hospital doors in a wheelchair. She could see the dried tears on his face, and his knee was now wrapped up in a large brace. Y/N pushed off the car, holding the bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear in her hand. 

“Hey baby,” Y/N said, giving her son a side hug, “How do you feel?” 

“Great,” Alex said, his voice a little slurred. 

Y/N looked up at Jake, “They gave him some high-dose Tylenol. We scheduled surgery for two weeks from now,” Jake said. 

Y/N nodded and looked at her son. His green eyes were sad as he looked at the brace on his leg, “Well, will just have to take it day by day. But right now, let’s get you home. Your siblings apparently have made you a welcome home surprise.” 

Alex chuckled, “If Eli has made his infamous ‘pie surprise’, I think I’ll pass.” 

Y/N and Jake both laughed as they took Alex to the car. It took both of them to help him get into the car. Y/N drove slowly and tried her best to avoid the potholes, seeing the way Alex would wince at every little bump the car would go over. Alex let out a little gasp as they pulled up to the house, seeing a large paper banner hanging up across the front door. The blue Bronco was parked in the driveway next to a black Jeep. 

“We can kick them out, bud if you just want to go to bed,” Jake said from the backseat. 

“No, it’s okay,” Alex said, “I wanna see my family.” Y/N smiled and put the car in park. 

Jake got out quickly, grabbing Alex’s crutches from the backseat. The two Seresin men slowly walked into the house, where they were met with a loud ‘Welcome Home’ from the living room. Alex felt tears in his eyes as he saw the decorated living room with flowers, candy, and cards from his siblings, the Bates-Machado children, and the Bradshaw kids. 

Y/N felt a sense of belonging as she watched her son be showered with love from the people she had learned to call her family. She could remember all those years ago, little three-year-old Alex asking her in the backyard of the rental house in Miramar if the dagger squad was going to like him. It was amazing how much her family had grown since that day, and Y/N wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Jake walked over to her, siding up behind her and putting his arm around her waist. She leaned against him, watching as Alex read the words on the card that Cash had given him. 

“You did a good job, with that one,” Jake pressed a kiss to the side of her head. 

Y/N turned her head and looked up at her husband, “We both did a good job.”

[daddy-issues-99]

Joker x Abandoned Batkid

Gender neutral reader, strictly fluff

1.5k words 

You missed your old bed, the one at Wayne Manor, it was warm and coxy and, most important: Safe. You missed it there but you didn't miss the person you shared the house with. 

At first Bruce seemed like an amazing person, courageous, protective and generous enough to take you under his wing, both literally and figuratively. He made you into a smaller version of him, or at least tried to. You weren't prefect, far from it but you could get the job done, but not without some scrapes, you still have a scar from your first mission, a small cut on your lower lip where your mask couldn't protect you. You didn't mind it though, you thought it made you look cooler but it did come with a price of being recognized by people you've fought. 

Bruce always pointed it out during training saying that ‘that’s what happens when you let your guard down’. It got annoying after a while. In fact everything seemed to get more irritating and hurtful the longer you stayed in the Manor. He got stricter with the training and missions, treating you more as an obstacle in the way of victory rather than the sidekick you were. The once constructive criticism turned to insults. The gentle pats of the back turned to shoves and hits. 

The final straw was on a mission trying to capture the Joker. You were chasing after him through one of his many warehouses when he took a small explosive out of his pocket and threw it back towards you. You jumped out of the way as quick as possible barley escaping the blast and hitting your head hard against the concrete pillar letting the Joker escape once again. 

You looked up to see Bruce standing over you with a furious expression on his face. You quickly pulled yourself up from the ground “Bruce, I’m sorry, he threw a grenade at me and-” “I don't need your excuses!” “I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean for this to-” “Would you just shut up for once in your life you little bitch!” He said as he punched you in the face full force. You stumbled back falling into the pillar falling back down to the floor hearing muffled curses coming from Bruce. You looked at you hand that was covered in blood that was slowly running down your face and onto your suit. 

“Why cant you do anything right?” He asked angrily. You didn't even respond you just stumbled to your feet and ran out of the warehouse. You hadn't talked to Bruce sense. 

That's how you ended up here, walking around the streets of Gotham looking for a place to stay and some unsuspecting victim to mug. You walked for a while longer until you came to a familiar warehouse, ‘seemed like a good place to spend the night’, you thought to your self. You knew the layout so you knew the most secluded places to hide away for the night. There weren't any lights that you could see so you walked up the stairs to find an empty supply closet you could call your bedroom for the night.

You started to hear noises on the floor above you, it sounded like talking. Realizing your analysis of no one being in the building was wrong you slowly tried creeping back down the stairs not wanting any trouble tonight but you were caught off guard when you felt someone grab you from behind. He was much bigger than you and there was no way you could fight him off. He called for a few more men to come over and help carry you up to where the talking was coming from. 

The man carried you up the stair as you still tried to kick your was out of his grasp. He grabbed an old chair and held you down so the other men could tie your hands and feet to the chair. It took them a few minutes to finally hold you still enough to tie you up. 

You still continued to struggle against the ropes as the men stood there laughing at your struggle. They went quiet suddenly when they heard someone coming up the stairs, you followed their gaze to see an all to familiar face turn the corner. You locked eyes instantly and regretted ever looking up. “Well well, who do we have here?” He said kneeling down to get a good look at you. He soon noticed a familiar gash on your lower lip. “Ah, your the Batman's little sidekick aren't you?” You didn't respond just quickly glanced up at him and the men behind him. He noticed your glance to the group of men behind the two of you. 

“Our guest seems a little shy, I think some one on one time is best” He stood up and ushered the men out of the room.  The door closed with a click and he kneeled down once more to be at eye level with you. “So, where's the Man?” You simply shrugged still looking at the floor. “Why should I care?” You said bluntly. 

He simply nodded “You and the dark Knight not on the best of terms?” He asked licking his lips. You didn't respond but that was all the answer he needed. He simply sighed and stood up. You looked up to see him pulled out a switchblade from his jacket pocket. You instantly stiffened showing your nervousness, leaning back in the chair trying to get away. He walked over to you and you shut your eyes tight as if trying to avoid your fait. “Relax kid” You opened one eye to see him go behind you and start cutting the ropes. You hands soon fell free and he cut the ropes at your feet. You instantly shot up stumbling over the chair behind you sending you to the floor. 

You pushed yourself away until you were cornered up against the wall.  You looked up at the Joker unable to hide your fear at this point, he just looked down at you waiting for your next move. He lifted his arm and you instantly moved your arms to cover your face trying to avoid any attack. “What happened to you kid?” He said simply putting his blade back in his pocket. “The first time we met you were so eager to win the battle but now your just the shell of that kid.” You stayed silent. “Batsy isn't the best mentor is he?” He asked looking down at you with a sympathetic look. 

You looked up at his seeing his expression and were unable to hold in a sob. A tear rolled down your face as you tried to bring your legs to your chest trying to make yourself seem smaller. He looked down at you realizing how bad you actually had it working with the Batman. He sighed, kneeling down and extending his hand. You looked up tears still streaming down your face. “You know, Batman isn't the only one in need of a side kick.” You tilted your head in confusion “Look, its tough doing the job I do but there is room for some extra help around. Ill make you a deal. You can come and work with me by my side, Ill take you under my wing and give you what you need. If you don't like it and want to leave I wont stop you. Deal?” He said extending his hand further “Come on, what do you have to loose?” 

You quickly wiped the tears off your cheek and grabbed his hand as he helped you off the ground. He pulled you close draping his arm over your shoulder, you surprisingly felt comfortable. Who knew being this close to the Joker would feel safe? You leaned in to his embrace as you waled down the stairs and into a nice car parked at the back of the warehouse. One of the men opened the door for the both of you giving a confused look but hid it when the Joker gave him a look. 

You climbed into the back seat with him and you were off. You still could believe that you were in the Jokers car, was this a trick, will he hurt me? You were pulled from your thoughts when you were handed a bottle of water, “Relax kid” he placed the water in your lap “Your safe with me” He said playfully ruffling your hair. You smiled, who knew the person you’d feel safe around was the person you were trying to catch. You rested you head on his shoulder and he put his arm around you “Tired?” You nodded “You got around an hour before we get to our destination, take a cat nap.” He said patting your shoulder. You slowly began to drift off to sleep with a single thought in your head ‘I am safe’. 

[clownhoodieguy]

A most villainous predator, who likes to hold the mayor hostage, and straps totally real bombs that are not props to his chest to lure out the hero. Once the hero makes themself known, they're captured in a comically simple trap, where they wrap their fingers around the cage's bars and threaten the villain with a life time of prison time.

To this, the villain shall cackle maniacally, and reveal the mayor was a fake all along, a mere henchman wearing a rubber mask! After much mocking, the villain soon waves his henchmen off to have some alone time with their new captive. Much cheesy banter ensues, until it reaches it's climax, and the villain reveals his super science-y shrink ray!

Blasting the hapless hero, they yelp in horror as they're reduced down to the size of a thumb, and swiftly scooped out from between the cage's bars. Hero writhing between the villain's fingers, the bad guy can't help but lurch their head back and billow a crazed laugh. Once they had finished their outburst, the villain reminds the hero of how insignificant, and weak they are in this state, all while twirling their mustache.

A deep, and long growl emanates from the bad guy's gut, a wicked smirk sprawls across their face; the hero shakes their head in a mix of disbelief and horror. The villain raises their arm above their head, pinches the hero's cape, and extends that wicked smirk into an open mouth smile. As the hero flails about in panic, their cape begins to stretch, and tear. Terror fills the hero's eyes before the cape rips, cursing the costume tailor for using such cheap materials as they fall.

Landing with a wet Plap!, the hero squirms around on the big bad's slick, squishy tongue. The intense heat with each breath made it hard to keep their eyes open, and each movement only seemed to slip them deeper into the jaws of evil. Legs dangling over the precipice, they make one last plea with the villain, begging them to release them. Their request is only met with a dismissive scoff.

But wait- here comes their side kick, just in time to- Glck! watch their... mentor... and role model... get sucked down the villain's throat, and travel down their neck.

They belch loudly and unapologetically, inviting their henchmen back into the room to deal with the sidekick for them. Retiring themselves to a hidden section of their headquarters, they lounge around in their most comfortable of arm chairs, slowly caressing the tiny bulge in their midsection.

For a moment, they break character, huffing deeply, and confessing the pleasure they receive from each of their interactions. The villain expresses their gratitude to the hero, for giving them purpose, and reminding them, that although they are mortal enemies, that the hero is ultimately safe within their stomach.

The hero is dumbstruck, taking a moment to reflect on their previous battles. Never once was anyone actually killed- let alone injured. The mayor, which they kidnap quite often, always escapes unharmed. Civilians they hold hostage are never mistreated. Building they explode are always evacuated prior to destination. It seems the only person who ends up bruised and battered by the end of it all is... the bad guy and his goons.

Guilt stricken, the hero can do nothing but lay back, and stare up at their new fleshy ceiling. They take in their surroundings, so slimy, cramped and hot, but something was sort of... comfortable about it. They'd known each other for so long, the hero couldn't fight it any longer, they did trust the villain.

Their confinements compress, slick, soft, wrinkled flesh hugs the hero firmly. A gentle, muffled whisper manages to reach the hero through the thick walls of tissue: "I forgive you".

Imma leave it at that for now...

[random-writing-thoughts]

Thought #204.2

This one won't leave my head 😁

Previous

Warnings: restraints, swearing

Hero shook her head. "No. No. No." It only came out as a soft mumble from behind her gag.

Sidekick sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop mumbling. It's making you look weak."

Hero glared at him and pulled at the ropes that tied her to the chair.

If I could just...

Hero felt a knot close to her fingers and smiled.

Untie myself from the chair I could...

Footsteps got louder and Hero snapped her head to the staircase. Villain stepped into the kitchen and smiled at Hero.

"Hero. I'm so glad to see you again."

That voice sent shivers down Hero's spine.

Sidekick stood and Villain walked over to him.

"Nice work." Villain turned to Hero and grabbed her face moving it in every direction. "No bruises. No injuries. I'm impressed."

He let go( of her face and sat across from her. "And the gag is a nice touch."

Hero glared at both Sidekick and Villain and let out a string of swear words.

Which came out as a soft mumble.

Villain smiled and pulled a pile of papers from his briefcase.

"We are going to keep that gag in place so I can go over the changes to your contract in peace."

Hero's eyes widened. Changes?

She started frantically picking at the knot she could reach as Villain cleared his throat.

"First, we are extending your contract. Right now you only have a month left, but because you disappeared for two and didn't bring back what you were supposed to we are adding three months to your contract."

Hero whimpered.

Villain ignored her. "Second, seeing as though your first mentor didn't seem to change any of your behaviors we are reassigning Sidekick to be your mentor."

Hero glared at Sidekick.

"I accept." He said with a sly grin.

Hero shook her head and looked down at her lap.

Finally.

She got the knot untied and her hands were not connected to the chair anymore. She pulled the rope close to her and set it down on the chair.

"Finally..." Villain looked at Hero. "Actually this one I want her to be able to talk to us. Sidekick could you?"

Sidekick walked in front of Hero and put a finger under her chin pushing her head up.

"I'd be happy to." He grabbed one side of the tape and in one swift motion ripped it off.

Hero winced.

He pulled the sock out of her mouth and dropped it into her lap.

He moved back behind Villain.

"Now Hero, this is your time to say anything you would..."

"Fuck you."

Hero stood and sprinted towards the stairs with her hands still tied behind her back.

All I have to do is get upstairs and into my bedroom and I can lock my door.

She started up the stairs.

I can do this. I can...

A hand wrapped around her ankle. She fell hard onto the stairs hitting her shoulder and head.

She turned and saw Sidekick holding her ankle.

"Why. Can't. You. Just. Leave. Me. Alone?" She punctuated each word with a kick towards Sidekick.

Sidekick grabbed her other ankle and pulled her down the stairs. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Because I'm your mentor now and I can't let you fail again."

He pushed her back to the chair. "Anyone got handcuffs?"

Someone threw him handcuffs and he caught them effortlessly and bent down behind Hero.

He clasped one cuff around her left wrist tightly. He wove the other cuff around the back of the chair and clasped the other tightly around her other wrist.

He untied the rope and tisked at the rope burns she had. "Shame you couldn't stop yourself from hurting yourself. We will work on that."

She struggled against the cuffs and glared at Sidekick as he walked back behind Villain.

Villain chuckled. "This situation leads perfectly into the last change to the contract."

"Perfect I'm so excited to hear the bullshit you're going to make me do." Hero mumbled as she continued to pull at the handcuffs.

"Being the most defiant member we've had you will be the only student Sidekick has." Villain continued.

Hero froze.

"You will no longer do outside missions alone, Sidekick will go with you so we don't have a repeat of what happened two months ago."

Hero started shaking her head. "No. No."

"And lastly Sidekick is allowed to decide what kind of punishments he feels are necessary to make you start to follow the rules."

Sidekick stepped to Villain's side. "I am happy to do so. Hero will be following the rules in no time. I promise."

Next

[captain-lessship]

His “Sidekick In The Chair” No Longer Pt. 1

a/n: No die hard comic fans come for me but I do know that Toxin (A symbiote) has helped spider man in the comics and I wanted to write something that has the potential to get funny but I will warn you, there is a sad bit in this part.

CW: Possible Spoilers (idk i know not everyone has watch the movie or read the comics)

“Every superhero has a sidekick!” He whined.

Your best friend, Pavitr, had offered to walk you home and had talked non-stop about you helping him. 

“Pav,” you turned around, fully ready to shut him down but you saw the sheer hope and excitement in his eyes, “I- Fine!” You lamented. “But I am not your sidekick, we are equals.”

He smiled widely at you as he slung his arms around you, “I knew you’d agree! Thank you. And sure! You can be a hero too!” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Besides how hard could it be?”

“About that… we need suits.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, all superheroes have cool suits and besides you can sew!” He said.

“I really really hope that I get side swiped by a car.” You groaned.

“You’ll never get hurt while I am here.” He said, voice trying to be serious.

You were unimpressed, “Let’s hope you never have to use that line.” You patted him on the back. 

When you got home, you immediately got to work doodling up a suit that would be fit for your rather expressive best friend and now partner in crime fighting. 

You smiled to yourself as you drew and after what felt like hours, you added color. As you stared at the costume, your mind began to wonder, thinking about all the shenanigans and by relation, danger he’d be getting into and you wouldn’t always be there.

You were set on the sidelines: No powers, only your mind to help him. You knew he was smart and wouldn’t purposefully get himself in deep trouble but yet, you still worried. 

And your worrying was for the best.

There was now a-

“Hole in our universe.”

A hole in your universe.

“Pav, sweet sweet, Pav,” you held your phone closer to your ear, “Why is there a god damn hole in our universe?” You yelled into your phone.

“Geez, don’t yell! Calm down, it’s being fixed and… I’m sorry.”

You were shocked. It wasn’t that Pavitr never apologized, it was that he never apologized without adding on why it wasn’t his bad.

“It’s- Pav, it wasn’t your fault. You are not responsible for other people’s actions.”

“I know, I know but I feel partially responsible: it’s my city. And there’s a hole in it.” 

“It’s being fixed, it’ll be okay.” 

A sudden knock on your window made you jumped and you turned in your chair to see him. You walked to your window and opened it. 

He tumbled in and slumped to your bed, still in his Spider-Man suit. You sighed as you walked over and sat beside his face down figure, “So is this a ‘Leave me alone for five minutes and bring me tea’ or a ‘I am just being dramatic’ ?”

“I am not dramatic!” He shouted at you. 

You just stared at him as he jerked his mask off, a very angry and hit look painted across his face. 

“You know what?” He stood up, “Forget it! You don’t know the half of it!”

“Oh what don’t I know?” You said, feeling yourself become annoyed.

“What it is to be an actual superhero!” 

It cut you deeper than it should’ve. There was just something about the way he said it that made you believe that he never thought you were more than his tailor and direction giver. 

Anger filled you, “Oh please!” How quickly could he forget that he would not have been able to do it without you. 

“You just don’t! And I don’t expect you to!” 

“No, I don’t get the easy part. I don’t get the powers and I don’t get the praise but I hope you can do it without me.”

He stared at you, eyes scanning your face, “I don’t have the easy part. I have to except the fact my life is written out for me.”

“Well, should be easy to live then, the reassurance that it will all be okay must be great!” You folded your arms across your chest. 

There was silence for a bit. 

“What do you mean without you?” 

“You said I wasn’t a real superhero,” you felt your anger subside, “And I got mad.”

He looked at you, “I am just… disappointed in what I now know my life will be like, it’s all already drawn out and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“What will it be?”

“My uncle, and every other Spider-Man’s uncle, were already destined to die. So is a police investigator that I am close to.” 

You could’ve swore you saw tears form in his eyes, something that never clouded the face for your sunny spirited friend, “Every Spider-Man has a Gwen Stacy. Every Gwen Stacy falls in love with Spider Man.”

You picked up on what he meant, you walked to him and wrapped your arms around him and felt his body give slightly, sniffing and snuffling noises leaving him. “Every Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy can’t be together, can they?” 

He nodded yes, acknowledging that his young love was predestined to end. All you could do was hug him.

You thought about that all through the night. Mind drifting to how sad it must be. Suddenly something touched your foot. 

It was cold.

Slightly slimy.

And it was moving. 

With a shaky hand you pulled back the cover, revealing a crimson colored mass.

Before you could scream, it began to rise slightly off the bed and a pair of pearly white eyes with a light blue sheen came to the thing that was in your bed.

Fear filled you as words came from the creature.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” You all but whispered.

“Are you frightened?”

“Uh, yea, no offense but it’s not everyday a random blood looking creature appears in my room.”

“I am Toxin.”

“Is there something you need or what?”

“I can make you a superhero. You would want to help your friend, right?” Toxin remarked. 

“Okay eavesdropper, but how could you do that?”

“I just need your body. Then you will have all my powers.”

“Could I web swing?”

“We could try.”

“What’s the catch?”

Toxin laughed, “Smart, aren’t we? Well there is one. What you eat, I take half the nutrients. I use your body as a sort of home.”

“It won’t kill me, right?”

“No. What parasite intentionally kills their host?”

“You need a marketing class.” You sighed, “But I guess we could take one.”

“We could.” Toxin smiled widely. 

You extended your hand and Toxin climbed onto it, you shuddered slightly at the feeling, “How are you gonna get inside me?”

“Take a deep breathe.” 

You closed your eyes as you breathed in through your nose, feeling him slip in your nostril. It felt like when a doctor swabbed your nose to see if you had the flu. You choked slightly, feeling it drip down into your chest. Then the voice came.

“It’s nice in here.”

“Thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” Toxin said, “Now, I request a sandwich.”

“PB & J?”

“Grape jelly.”

“Of course.”

Little did you know who was outside your window, having seen the encounter between you and the alien. It was Pavitr. His watch chimed.

“Canon Event Successful. Continue your work.” 

[takamikeiigos]

warning: contains nsfw content, alcohol, and recreational drug use (cannabis), lil bit of possessive behaviour and a whole creampie cause we're sluts for keigo's cum tyvm

disclaimer: it's been over a year since Iast wrote content, and any keigo content at that. pls be kind, i am fragilé

also... i've never written Mirko before so excuse that mess. i'm also not caught up with the manga anime, so if you notice anything off with the plot line, mind ya business

lastly... i wrote this while, you guessed it, stoned!!! so sorry about any grammar mistakes. i am... a disaster

The time blinks at you from your car's dashboard, it's dim light glowing in the bleak atmosphere of the morning.

It's 6:45 a.m., much too early for your preference.

It's a gloomy day, having rained most of the night with clouds and a slight drizzle continuing into the morning. There's a slight chill in the air that makes you pull your cardigan tighter around yourself unconsciously, yet despite the cold rain and wet breeze, your iced coffee comforts you as you take a few sips from it's cup.

You let out a sigh and prepare yourself for this grueling meeting ahead of you.

Walking into the headquarters is hectic - to say in the least. Parking was a bitch and a half to start off. And though most heroes prefer to fly, walk, or use gadgets to maneuver around the city, you decided not to chance it with the rain. So you drove.

Shame on you for not realizing that the HPSC headquarters would have shit for parking, huh.

The building is bustling with life already - graveyard shift heros retiring for the morning while the first-shift patrol makes their way in. You scan the badge you were provided with when you first became a Pro Hero, elevator doors opening with a quiet chime before you step in. You press the button for the eighteenth floor, just a few short from the top of the building, and the doors close slowly, leaving behind the view of numerous assistants and secretaries running around.

You check the time again - 6:50 a.m.

It takes no longer than a minute or so before the doors chime again, this time opening to a much quieter surrounding. The walk to the conference room is dull, the hallways only filled with a few sidekicks and Pro Heroes at this point, the only noise coming from the communications desk where a few secretaries type away, deep in task as you pass by.

You approach the conference room at the end of the hallway and scan your I.D. card once more, the frosted door unlocking with a click and sliding open. A few heads pop up and turn when you enter, and you're met with smiles from a few Pro Heroes who are seated at the long table in the center of the room.

"Good morning, nice of you to join us," a man seated toward the head of the table greets you. Hindsight, assistant of the President. "Please, have a seat. We're still waiting on the President and a few others before we get started."

You spot a few empty seats, and your eyes soon land on Mirko as she pats the chair next to her. You offer her a smile and make your way toward her, setting your belongings down on the table quietly and claiming your spot in the seat beside her.

"Morning," you offer in a hushed tone, and she nods back in acknowledgement.

You look around at the numerous heros seated at the table, a few in conversation with those around them and a few jotting notes down in notebooks. You recognize a few, like Endeavor and Best Jeanist. Fatgum seems to be in a deep conversation with Present Mic, and a few seats away from them sits Eraser Head, leaned back in his chair with his scarf nuzzled up past his chin and his eyes closed.

"Who are we still waiting on?" You whisper to Mirko, and just as she goes to respond, the conference room door hisses open again.

"Those two," she huffs out a quiet laugh and nods toward the door.

Your gaze is trained on bright, fluffy red wings and a mop of blonde hair, before meeting a golden stare that's aimed right back at you. Hawks walks into the room with a relaxed composure, Rock Lock following behind him with his hands stuffed into his pants pockets.

They both claim two empty seats across the table from you and Mirko, Hawks plopping down and stretching his limbs while Rock Lock quietly sits down next to him, his attention turned to the head of the table.

Hawks let's out a loud yawn after he stretches, sprawled out in his chair with his wings tucked neatly behind himself. Down the table, both Endeavor and Best Jeanist roll their eyes at the unnecessary noise, and Hawks just retorts by sticking his tongue out at them.

He looks... tired? His eyes are a tad hazy and half lidded, and his posture is lazy, almost heavy as he rests back against his chair. He turns his attention back to you and Mirko and smirks.

"Mornin', chickadees."

"Are you stupid?" Mirko chuffs in amusement, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares the winged-hero down.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, little rabbit," Hawks tilts his head to the side innocently, as if he's genuinely confused.

Mirko barks out a laugh and a few heads turn at that, even yours. You look between both of them, honestly confused yourself on the situation.

"You can't be serious, Hawks."

"What are they gonna do, fire me?" He grins, bringing his arms up and back, his hands interlocking and resting behind his head.

Okay. You're completely lost. What did he do and why would it bring up him being fired?

You pinpoint your gaze onto him once more and thoroughly look him over. His blithe form and the care-free attitude basically leaking from his bones; slightly bloodshot and lidded eyes, the smirk on his face.

"Are you-"

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Are we ready to start?"

You didn't even hear the door to the conference room open, and in walks the President of the HPSC.

Hawks just shoots you a wink before facing toward the head of the table, but you continue to stare at him in awe.

"Yes? Then let's get started," the President speaks as she takes her seat at the end of the table next to her advisor, "We have a lot to go over and little time. If you'd so kindly turn your attention to the screen behind me while Hindsight passes around your Intel packets. Again, this information is confidential and not to be shared with anyone outside of HPSC and your teammates. Not your friends, not your family, not your significant others. Understood?"

There's a few mumbles of acknowledgement from around the table, and with that you tear your gaze from Hawks and focus on the PowerPoint display on the large screen behind the President.

This was going to be a long, long meeting. Part of you understands why Hawks decided to roll up higher than a kite.

Somehow, you wouldn't expect any less from him.

•••

About a half-hour into it, you start becoming distracted.

The President has spent the last thirty minutes going over the case that's been presented to them, and the team that they already have infiltrating the villains. It's another scenario of some hotshot that's pissed off at the world with a bitter hatred toward Heroes, and has decided to come up with a way of reaping quirks. It vaguely reminds you of the Hassaikai ordeal.

As the President continues to go over the Intel that HPSC has already received, your focus somehow shifts back to Hawks. Where he was once sprawled out in his chair, aloof and care-free, he's now leaned toward the table, elbows rested on the cold surface and his hands interlocked under his chin.

He looks intensely focused.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you notice he's starting back at you, his gaze sharp and his pupils dialating in the slightest.

"I can feel you staring, little bird," he hums quietly, raising an eyebrow in interest.

You open your mouth, stuttering over an attempt to defend yourself, but the President beats you to it, her sharp voice cutting through your stupor.

"Is there something you'd like to add, Hawks?"

He blinks, and you swear you catch the slight roll of his eyes as he looks toward the President, his gaze cold and annoyed.

"No, ma'am. Not at all. Carry on, please," he offers a curt smile.

She stares at him momentarily, as if debating something in her head, but decides against saying anything. Instead she continues where she left off.

Hawks looks back at you for a brief moment, eyes narrowed like he's studying you, the molten hold of his gaze making your skin warm. You shift in your seat under his intense, silent scrutiny, and he huffs out a laugh. He knows that you're curious and it's caught his attention, and now it dangles between the both of you like a carrot on a stick.

•••

The meeting ends after a tedious ninety minutes. The mission starts in a week, which is nice because it gives you time to prepare.

Especially because you've been split into teams, and you've never worked with half of these people this closely, before.

Especially because you've been paired with Hawks.

The room begins to clear out, some heroes immediately going on duty, and some turning in to enjoying their time off. You stay behind for a few extra minutes to jot down some notes about the upcoming mission and ask any questions you have about what you should expect. Though you've worked alongside Mirko before, you've never worked with Hawks. And to be honest, you don't really know how to feel. You've only interacted with him once or twice, if you could even call them interactions to start with.

You know he's the Number Two Hero in Japan - dangerously fast and more observant than most. He tends to come off as a bit cocky and carefree; youthfully optimistic and sure in his ways, but you can't help but wonder if that's just how he is or if it's all for show.

You briefly saw how he'd worked before the Paranomal Liberation War, freshly twenty-two with a pep in his step and a flame inside of him that couldn't be diminished.

The news coverage after his faceoff with Dabi had put many Pro Heroes, including the HPSC, on edge. The Press Conferences seemed never-ending and the tension kept it's sharp edge.

He recovered with the same optimistic attitude he always had - though his wings were tarnished and he was left flightless, voiceless, and scarred - yet he never seemed to falter.

You can't help but wonder how someone could stay so positive. And what secrets he's holding that make up his nonchalant persona.

You wrap up with Hindsight, grabbing your notes and the remainder of your coffee, and bid your farewells. You're off for the day thankfully, already worn down by the immediate influx of information just shortly after waking up.

The ride home is quiet besides the afternoon traffic in Musutafu, and the ache for a hot bath and a nap nag at you stronger with every step you take closer to your apartment.

•••

You're pissed. What should have been a seemless takedown suddenly turned into a massive clusterfuck once you found out the villain you'd been going after had a cloning quirk.

And you were all alone.

After about thirty minutes of running around in what felt like circles, you finally got fed up and called for backup. And after an additional twenty minutes of throwing pointless punches and attacks that didn't hit the right target, you'd finally managed to land a hit. Only then did your relief show up and take things over.

You managed to get back to your Agency with a few minor scratches and bruises, but ultimately, you were exhausted.

You're packing up your hero uniform and the rest of your belongings when your phone comes to life from across the room. You stare at it for a moment, debating on even answering because who could possibly be calling you at ten o'clock, and why. You give it a few more seconds before dropping what you're doing and rushing over to answer it.

"Yes ma'am?"

" 'Yes ma'am'? What is this, a reenactment of Keigo getting scolded by the President?" Mirko's voice echoes through the room as you put her on speaker.

You roll your eyes and continue packing up the rest of your stuff, "Yeah, that's exactly what it is."

"Well in that case, you can call me 'Ma'am' any time you'd like. I'd love to teach you a lesson or two," Mirko chuckles on the other line. There's a little bit of background noise on her end, a dim thrum of music and the distant sound of people talking.

"Did you just ask me on a date, Mir?" You can't help but laugh at the cheesy flirtation she throws at you, shaking your head to yourself.

"Yes, actually!" She exclaims, and you hear glass clinking in the background. "Keigo and I are out for drinks at this cute little Pro-Hero bar they just opened downtown. You should join, a few more are coming down as a last 'hoorah' before the mission next week."

"Ah, I dunno, Mir. Honestly I'm pretty beat and due for a shower. And bed time."

"Pleeeeease? I promise it's nothing crazy. Just a few drinks and that's it. We just wanna see you!" Mirko begs on the other line, and you can almost see the puppy-dog face.

Wait.. 'we'? Like.. 'we' as in Mirko and Keigo both want to see you? Or 'we' as in the rest of the team?

"Pretty please?" Mirko asks once more, this time softer. And you know that she's probably pouting. And tipsy.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess. But only a few drinks then I'm going home. Seriously. I have to get up early." You give up the fight and basically put your life and sleep in her hands, locking your office door behind you and beginning your decent down to the garage.

"Yes!! Only a few drinks, I swear! I'll text you the address, see you soon bunny!'

The phone abruptly hangs up, but not even two seconds later it chimes with a text notification. You roll your eyes with a smile and get into your car.

•••

Thankfully you'd showered at the agency, so you didn't need to fly home just to be out later than you wanted to. The leggings and cropped sweater you had on would have to suffice, because you weren't going home to change, either.

The bar you pull up to has you a little confused. You show your Hero I.D. when you get up to the door, and with a nod the bouncer let's you in. It seems like your average bar on any corner, dimly lit to set the atmosphere with a few patrons hanging out at the counter, and a few standing on the floor, talking with drinks in hand.

Your eyes scan over the area but there's no sign of Mirko. Or Hawks.

Maybe she gave you the wrong address?

You give her a call and she answers on the second ring.

"Are you here?' She asks excitedly. Though she isn't slurring, the tone of he voice tells you she's ready a few drinks in.

"I'm here. But where are you?"

"Wait, are you still upstairs?" She asks seriously.

"Upstairs? What do you mean 'upstairs'?" You ask, suspecting she's up to something.

"Come downstairs, babe. We're at the bar downstairs." She laughs loudly, and it takes your brain a second to process.

"Wait, what-"

"It's fine Mirko, I've got her," someone says after snatching your phone from your hand. You whip around, ready to throw hands after the day you've had, but Hawks offers you a small wave from where he stands now infront of you, your phone pressed to his ear.

You deflate almost instantly, sighing and in desperate need of a drink suddenly. Hawks mutters a few 'uh huh's before he hangs up, offering your phone back to you with a smile.

You grab it back from him, taking in his appearance outside of work. He's dressed casually, dark jeans and a deep, dark crimson button-up shirt. He's got a few rings on his fingers, and a watch on his wrist, which you've never noticed since he's always in uniform when you see him.

You look up at him and his stare is intense, eyes bright but slightly narrowed, like he's still trying to figure you out. He's got a couple earings in you notice, beside his normal black ones.

"Lost?"

"Thank you. And no, I'm not lost. Just don't go out often." You mumble, looking around the bar.

"You looked pretty lost to me. Still do, princess." He laughs as he begins walking away, beckoning you to follow. He brings you to a stairwell at the back of the bar and leads you downstairs. It's much darker down here, besides a few flashing lights and 'exit' signs. You travel down an open hallway before making it to an entrance, where the flashing lights are brighter and the music is louder.

"What happened to a few drinks?" You yell over the music to Hawks, and you can tell he's laughing at you.

"Mir knew you wouldn't come out of she told you we were in a nightclub. But we'll make sure you get home in one piece, don't worry." He leans into you slightly so you can hear him.

You roll your eyes for what feels like the billionth time today, and finally you see Mirko waving you down across the crowd.

You don't think you've ever seen this many heroes packed into a bar before. On a dance floor, nonetheless.

Before you even get a chance to take your seat at the bar, Mirko is shoving a drink in your face. It's bright red and orange in color, and smells faintly of oranges and alcohol.

"Cheers, babe! You made it!" She exclaims.

Barely, you think as you the three of you raise a toast.

•••

You're a few drinks in, cheeks warm and body loose as you lean back against the bar. Hawks and Mirko are on the dance floor with each other, dancing closely to some song with heavy bass, drinks in hand.

You wonder if it's hard for Hawks to maneuver his wings in such dense crowds like this. Though they're still growing out and recovering from the damage Dabi dealt a few years ago, they're still very full and nearly back to full capacity. He seems to move them just like you'd move an arm or leg, so it must not be a huge problem.

You watch as he places a hand on Mirko's waist and leans in to say something to her. She gently whacks him upside the head and tosses her head back in laughter, her ears bouncing with every laugh.

You smile at their antics. You've heard a bit about Hawks from Mirko, but it's only because he's been one of her best friends for the longest time. She jokes about his charm and suave behavior a lot, but never fails to bring up how much of an amazing person he is. Not just a hero, but a living, breathing person.

Suddenly Mirko's in your face, handing you her drink without any warning.

"I have to pee!" She exclaims over the music.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" You ask, raising her abandoned glass into view.

"I don't know, drink it!" She shrugs, and a small smirk forms on her lips. "And go dance with Keigo. He's like a child, he'll get lost."

"But-"

"Aht-aht," Mirko shakes her head. She grabs her glass out of your hands and brings it to your lips. You begrudgingly open your mouth to prevent it from spilling all over your face as she tips the glass, and swallow it down.

"Good girl, now. Keigo. Babysit. Love you!" She pats one of your cheeks and kisses the other, before disappearing from your sight.

You sigh and finish off the rest of your drink, the glass clinking heavily with abandon as you set it down on the bar top. When you look back out toward the crowd, Hawks - Keigo? Whoever he is, is making his way toward you.

"She tell you to babysit me?" He guesses, focused on flagging the bartender down. He leans into the bar next to you, stretching his wings outward for a moment, and when he draws them back in, he's looking at you.

"She sure did," you confirm, turning to face him. He smells nice, like deep amber and fresh air, and you can't help but take a small step closer to him.

"I don't see why. I'd like to think I can handle my own at twenty-five." He ponders, bringing a hand back to rub his neck.

"I dunno, Keigo. You did show up to an important meeting under the influence, in front of the President of the HSPC, mind you." You smile at him and nudge his shoulder. He lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

"Sweetheart, if you think that was 'under the influence', that's just the tip of the iceberg." He leans in closer to you, as if he's going to let you in on a secret. "You're gonna want to save those babysitting skills for the days that I'm really goin' through it."

"Do you smoke often?" The question leaves your lips before you're able to stop yourself, but when he smiles brightly at you, your nerves melt away.

"Hmm, normally after long missions or rough days." He says thoughtfully.

"But aren't you always on long missions?" You deadpan.

"Bingo!" He claps his hands together slowly, "Which is why I do it! Helps me destress. Especially with how tense my wings can get from time to time."

"Meetings stress you out that much?" You ask seriously, eyebrows raised.

"Now that was because the President is a raging bitch and has some personal vendetta against me."

•••

It's going on one-thirty in the morning and you already know you're going to be the walking dead by the time your shift starts at eight o'clock.

You're exiting the bar loose-limbed and warm, Mirko on one side of you and Keigo on the other. You had enough to drink that your skin is buzzing and your cheeks are warm to the touch, but thankfully not enough that you'll be sick.

You get halfway to your car before Mirko turns to offer you a hug.

"Alright you shits, ya girl here has to be in bed in promptly 20 minutes, so I must bid thee farewell."

"Are you going to be okay getting home?" You wrap your arms around her in a tight embrace, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as she pulls away.

"Yes ma'am," she salutes you before pulling Keigo in the a hug, gaining a kiss on her other cheek. "These boots were made for walking. And hopping. And kicking ass. Which I've done many times."

"Okay. Well call me when you get home, please!" You call to her as she begins walking away. She waves over her shoulder and blows you a kiss.

You sigh and turn around, suddenly taken aback by Keigo lifting a joint to his mouth.

"Stressed out?"

He laughs, smoke puffing out from his mouth as he does. He brings a hand to run through his hair, hitting the joint once more as he looks into the distance.

A few seconds pass and his amber irises are trained back on you, and he watches you for a moment.

"Not at all, baby bird."

You both continue to walk back to your car, and he offers you the joint. You decline politely, not wanting to add another reason for your head to spin just before bed.

He nods and takes a few more hits along the walk, ashing it once you reach your car.

"Well, Hawks, thank you for walking me to my car," you turn to face him, the evening chill a cold contrast to your warmed skin.

"Of course, I'd say we're almost even in time spent babysitting each other," he nudges your shoulder with his wing gently.

"First of all -" a small laugh falls from your lips, and you nudge him back.

"Come home with me," he says suddenly, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's staring at you intently again, gauging your reaction with those piercing eyes of his. He looks good; hair windswept and his eyes almost glowing under the moonlight. The top few buttons of his shirt have come undone over the course of the night and your eyes roam down over the broad expanse of his chest before meeting his gaze again.

His eyes widen slightly, like he's finally realized just how brash that statement was, and his cheeks color ever-so-slightly.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. That was totally out of line, I-"

"Okay," you agree.

He stares back at you in awe.

"I'll come home with you. Besides, you owe me. Because I definitely put in more babysitting hours than you have."

It takes him a moment to catch up with what you're saying, before a smile breaks out across his lips.

"Game on, princess. Whatever your heart desires."

•••

You decide to leave your car in the parking lot of the bar, as long as Keigo promises to drop you off in the morning to get it.

The fly to his apartment is both terrifying and fascinating. You've flown in airplanes and jets numerous times to attend hero meetings and missions across Japan, but putting your full faith in someone's arms, literally, is a whole other ballgame.

You expect nothing less than a penthouse apartment for Keigo. The very top floor of a high rise that overlooks Musutafu. You are surprised to find, though, that his apartment isn't cold and left looking untouched like most Pro Heroes. Instead it's cozy - large windows that give an open view of the city greeting you when he unlocks the door.

The color scheme is warm, with burnt oranges and reds and browns. The wooden floors are accompanied by a few plush rugs, and the living room couches are adorned in pillows and throws.

The door clicks quietly behind you as you toe your shoes off, Keigo following in your wake.

"This is.. nice. Refreshing," you say as you walk further into the living area, running a hand across the back of one of the couches.

"Hmm. The HSPC chose it for me when I started my own agency. Didn't like it at first, but I couldn't argue with the view. I guess it's become home."

He takes a seat on the couch that sits parallel to the large windows that overlook the city, and you walk around to stand in front of him, nudging his legs apart with your knees. He looks up at you through heavy lids, and you reach out, running a hand through golden tufts of hair. A deep hum rumbles from within his chest and his hands come up to rest on your hips.

"You sure you want this, songbird?" He asks lowly, his voice like smooth gravel, not too sharp but enough edge to send shivers down your spine.

"Like I said, consider this payback for the overtime hours I've worked this week," you kneel over him, crawling forward slightly so his back is pressed against the couch cushions, before finding your place in his lap.

"I know what I owe you. But I need a yes or no, baby bird. Not doing anything to you without a solid answer," he breathes out, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.

"Yes, Keigo. You're going to fuck me, right here, on this couch, and then we're going to bed because we both have to get up early."

He groans low, his fingers digging into your thighs. "Fuck," he nearly chokes as his head falls back against the couch, his eyes closing and his brow pinched. "Say it again."

"Fuck me, Keigo. Please," You lean forward, fingers tangled in his hair as you whisper in his ear.

He rocks his hips upward just slightly, and it's enough for you to crave more friction. You close the distance and press your lips to his, and he accepts willingly, parting his lips and running his tongue across your bottom lip in attempt to get you in deeper.

It gets heated quick, small bites between feverish kisses and roaming hands. His hands move to tug at your cropped sweater, and you reluctantly break away so he can pull it off and drop it to the floor. Your bra comes next, his deft fingers pulling at the clasp just once before it comes undone, soon joining your sweater on the floor.

"Fuck, I want you out of these clothes, baby," he grunts, leaning forward with his hands pressed to your back and his face buried in your breasts. He rolls his hips upward a few times and you can feel where his cock strains in his jeans, and you can't help but moan at the feeling of it.

His hands travel slowly down to the waistband of your leggings, and in a swift, seamless movement he's shifting your panties off with them. He's got you where he wants you, naked and dripping with need in his lap, and he can't help but to slide a hand underneath you, his middle and ring finger running through the slick that's dripping down your thighs and teasing your cunt. You moan loudly as he slips both fingers inside of you, your pussy tightening around them as you try to sink further onto his hand, craving the feeling of being full.

He tilts his head up and finds your lips, groaning into your mouth. "That's it, baby. Look at you, so wet for me."

You pry the rest of his shirt open, shaking fingers undoing each button with desperation, before making quick work of his jeans. You whine when he removes his fingers from you, but his presses reassurances against your lips, promising that he'll give you more as he kicks his jeans and briefs off.

You look down at him, completely bare besides the button-up shirt, but you don't have the patience to work it over his wings. His erection sits proudly between your heat and his stomach, thick and drooling with precum. You reach out, needing to get a feel for yourself, and he moans loudly once you wrap your hand around the girth of it.

You both watch as you pump his cock a few times, smearing precum over your hand and his lower abdomen.

"Kei," the nickname falls from your lips in a whine, and he brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Tell me what you want, baby. Anything, I'll give it to you," he breathes out, voice wrecked.

"Wanna cockwarm you," You're almost in tears with how bad you want it, the weight of his cock in your hand enough to make you dizzy with need.

"Yeah? Wanna sit on it for a little bit? Take it all in and get used to shape on my cock?"

You nod, your face hot with anticipation and limbs turning weak from the aching need to be filled.

"Mm, and what do good girls say, princess?" He lifts your hips, brushing your hand from his cock. He grabs a hold of it, shifting his hips upward so the head of it brushes between your wet folds and against your clit. You stifle a whimper and arch into his touch, and he brings his free hand around to the back of your neck, squeezing gently.

"Hm?" He prompts, never faltering with his teasing.

"P-Please!" You cry out, tears brimming your lashes. "Please Kei, I need it. Promise I'll be good for you. Pleasepleaseplease."

He brings you forward for a kiss, at the same time rolling his hips upward, pressing the head of his cock into the tight, wet heat of your pussy. You both groan loudly and the feeling and you can't control yourself, sinking down until his cock is fully seated inside of you.

"Fuuuck, that's it baby. Just like that. Doin' so good for me," he praises against your lips, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit while you adjust to the feeling of him stretching your insides. You rock your hips a few times, lips parted and eyes squeezed shut in concentration, and he presses small kisses to the corner of your mouth, his fingers massaging the back ofbyour neck where he keeps his hold.

After a few moments of muted whines and breaths, he pulls his hand from where it teases your clit, and reaches toward the corner table at the side of the couch. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, rocking your hips every so often to keep the sensation going, too busy to pay any mind in what he's reaching for. You hear a drawer open and close, and just as you pull back he brings a joint to his lips and sparks it. The flame reflects in his golden irises and you can't help but keep the eye contact, a chill running up your spine as he takes his first drag.

He exhales slowly, the smoke billowing from his lips and circling around you, the strong scent of cannabis wafting through the air.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, earnest, as he hits the joint again. But before he can exhale, you press your lips to his, licking into his mouth in attempt to get him to open up for you. Once he does, he breathes out slowly, whatever smoke that was on it's way out of his airways now entering yours, and you inhale it smoothly. You pull away from him and let a long breath out, the smoke mostly dissipated as you lick you lips.

"M'Good, 'n you?" You whisper in question, plucking the joint from his fingers and taking a long drag. He stares you down the entire time, like a predator watching it's prey, as you inhale and exhale.

"Shit," he rasps, and you smirk when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

You press the joint to his lips, letting him take a few more puffs, before ashing it in the ashtray on the side table. He draws you back in for a kiss, this one slower paced and relaxed; languid as you both rock against eachother.

Minutes go by that you stay like that, wandering fingers and mouths exploring, before the burning heat between your thighs starts making itself known, again.

"I know, baby. C'mere," Keigo beckons, and you press fully against him, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. He reaches both of his hands around to squeeze and massage the plump fat of your ass, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm. You whine into the crook of his neck and he coos softly, warm hands traveling up the small of your back.

"M'Gonna fuck you real nice and deep - gonna keep it slow so you can feel every inch. Gotta make sure you remember who this pussy belongs to, yeah?" He whispers into your hair, and you nod, your eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

He keeps his word, his thrusts starting slow and deep. He pulls almost all the way out, just enough that your pussy clamps down around the head of his cock, before thrusting back in deep, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you with a slow drag.

There's pressure against your clit and suddenly a low vibration, and the stimulation of it makes you cry out, choking on a moan. You gain the courage to look down, and to your surprise, there's a small feather between your legs, doing god's work.

"Kei, m'close," your words come out jumbled, and he hums into your hair, his thrusts picking up speed.

"Tell me who this pussy belongs to, and I'll let you cum, songbird," he whispers into you ear, voice low and heady. You choke back tears, the stimulation of his this cock rubbing against your walls and the vibration of the feather against your clit becoming overwhelming.

"Tell me. Who does it belong to? Who's cock is stuffed so deep inside of you that you'll be aching for days, hummingbird?" He repeats, and you choke on your words once more as you cry out.

"You! You, Keigo, please! W'nna cum. Wan' you to claim my pussy," you sob, the edging burn in your gut coiling tighter as he pounds into you ruthlessly.

"Fuck, that's my girl. Cum with me sweetheart, it's okay," Keigo reaches up and tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you back so he can get a good look as he thrusts into you. Fat tears roll down you cheeks, dripping down to meet the mess between your thighs, and your breath hitches a few moments later as you clamp down on his cock, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. Your vision blurs for a moment and he pulls you forward again so you can rest against his chest and ride it out as he continues his thrusts.

"That's it baby. Fuck, you did so good for me," he grunts, his hips stuttering the closer he gets. "Gonna cum inside you, claim you as mine. Make a whole fuckin' mess outta you."

You whine and nip at his neck, and the moment that one of your hands reaches out to take purchase in one of his wings, his hims come to a halt and he throws his head back, a low moan working it's way out from deep in his chest. The feeling of his hot cum emptying inside of you is dizzying, the feeling of being stuffed to the point of it gushing down your thighs enough to satisfy you for life.

You roll your hips, milking him of every drop of his cum as he wraps his arms around you and breathes deep into your hair. You nip softly at his neck as you both ride through the afterglow, skin tacky with sweat and cum.

You blink hazily and spot a clock on the far wall of the room, the hour-hand resting just past three o'clock. You reluctantly pull away from the warmth of Keigo's chest and groan, attempting to shift off of his lap.

"Shh, I known you wanna go to bed, songbird. But at least let me clean you up first, yeah?" He coos quietly, brushing your hair from your face and wiping the tears from you cheeks.

You nod tiredly, and he slowly pulls out of you. You can feel the warm blanket of his wings wrap around you and soon he's lifting you into his arms, securing your legs around his waist and you arms around his shoulders. Sleep is making itself known quickly, especially when he lays you down on his bed. And by the time he leaves and returns with a warm towel, wiping your limps down gently and cleaning you up, you're nearly passed out.

You feel him crawl into bed and pull you into his arms, and you swear the security of his body curled around yours - and the gentle kiss he presses to your forehead, feels too much like everything you've ever wanted.

hahaha don't look at me this is trash

[em-writes-stuff]

bedside vigil + “i’m right here”

@whumpril day 11

warnings: hospital setting, iv, bullet wound

hero, villain, doctor

700 words (!!!!!)

part one here | part two here

---

Hero blinks awake, fluorescent lights nearly blinding her. Monitors beep steadily around her and something whirred every few seconds. She jerks up, supporting herself with her elbows. Next to her, five cups of coffee are on the bedside table and…so is Villain. 

His legs are drawn up to his chest and his chin rests on his knees. He’s snoring softly and for a second, Hero forgets who he is. She stares at him, eyes squinting under the harsh light and, maybe for the first time, she sees him. His beard is patchy with grey hairs and wrinkles are as plentiful as his scars. One of his eyebrows has a slit and she gets the impression he did that by himself. 

He opens his eyes, pulling back into the chair and stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. “Hey,” he says, rubbing his eyes, “You’re awake.” 

She pulls her legs to her chest and wraps her arms around them, resting her chin on her arm, “I’m awake.” 

“Let me get your doctor.” 

He stands up and grabs a few of the cups, rattling them before tossing them in the trash on his way out of the room. Hero closes her eyes for a second before opening them again and looking for her things. 

The door opens again and Villain walks in with a doctor in tow, she smiles and stands in front of the bed, “Hi, I’m Doctor. I’ve been taking care of you. Do you need to call anyone?” 

Shit. Sidekick’s probably worried sick right now. “How long have I been here?” 

“About seven hours. I expected you to wake up earlier but I guess you’ve been running overtime. Plus the infection wouldn’t help with anything.” 

“Infection?” 

“Yeah, that bullet wound? Whoever treated it didn’t do a very good job. There was still some metal lodged in the muscle. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” Doctor says. 

Hero squints at her, “I treated it. I thought I got all of it out but I guess I missed some.” 

Doctor blinks in surprise and glances at Villain. He shakes his head. “Right,” she finally says, “Well then. You did a pretty good job for doing it yourself. I’d prefer next time you coming to me. Of course, it would be best if there wasn’t a next time.” 

Hero nods along, “Yeah, yeah, sure. Where’s my phone?” 

“All your things are in this bag,” Doctor says, pulling a bag out from seemingly nowhere and handing it to Hero. “Your phone should be in there with it.” 

“Actually…” Villain says, reaching behind him for the windowsill, “I took a look. I know, I know, lecture me later. It was ringing like crazy about an hour ago so I answered it. Sidekick’s on his way. He told me he’d be here as soon as he could be.” 

Doctor glares at him, “You know better.” 

“It’s fine, he probably did the best thing honestly. Sidekick has a habit of going nuclear when he can’t find me. Did my parents call?” she scrolls through her calls and sighs when she doesn’t see either of their names. “That’s good.” 

Villain and Doctor share another look and Hero clears her throat, “Well, I should probably get ready to go, do I need to stay?” 

Doctor sputters and blinks in surprise, “You should probably stay here at least for a few more hours. I just dug metal out of your leg and the infection’s still clearing up. I’d recommend just…” she guides Hero back onto the bed and covers her with the scratchy hospital blanket, “Resting for a while.” her pager beeps and she curses, “Damnit, I have to go. Villain, please keep her here until she can walk on that leg without limping.” 

He mock salutes and waves her out of the room with a gentle smile. 

Hero stares at him and frowns, “What now?” 

“I’m right here, and I won’t leave until you tell me to or Doctor makes me, so…it’s up to you.” 

She keeps her eyes trained on him, eyes narrowing the longer she stares until she finally sighs and falls back into the bed, “You can stay. I’m not explaining everything to Sidekick.” 

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about Bakugou meeting you on desk duty again.

Though Bakugou’s mellowed out exponentially in his older age, he isn’t always perfect. The temper that once plagued him throughout his childhood was now just a simmering fire in his head as he’d learned to control it over the years. The amount of destruction on the Dynamight expenses list had lessened through time, and his corporate team are now glad they don’t have to try and explain the number of totaled buildings caused by one Pro-Hero alone to the media each year— It still doesn’t mean that Bakugou has changed completely.

There are certain situations, and certain people that simply irk him. From the guy in that Asahi commercial that looks far too fucking smarmy, to the interviews his PR team pencil him in for knowing full well he doesn’t want to attend. Some may call them minor inconveniences, but to him they’re a pain.

And desk duty? Desk duty was the biggest pain of all.

It wasn’t his fault that a villain had decided to run into a newly built artisan coffee shop in the city, and it wasn’t his fault that it happened to be owned by the President of the Hero Commissions son— who was now out for Dynamight’s blood.

And it definitely wasn’t his fault that the scheduled live apology had gone pear shaped.

Bakugou would blame the arrogant asshole for that any day of the week— if the guy had just let him apologise without hurling a string of abuse at him everything would be back to normal and he wouldn’t be waiting for his computer to boot up, but the guy just had to run his fucking mouth. And of course, Bakugou wasn’t going to stand for it.

So now he found himself sipping a lukewarm coffee from the seventh floor machine, and staring at a towering pile of paperwork on his assigned desk. But on the bright side, the night shift meant the office was virtually empty and at least he didn’t have to fucking apologise.

Letting his desk chair sway side to side he aimlessly scrolled through the emails that poured in to his agency. Anything from fan mail to thanks from civilians. Grinning when he clicked on one that was obviously from a younger fan as they included a photo of themselves in full Dynamight merchandise in the email, talking about their favourite Pro-Hero and how much they wanted to be like him some day. Bakugou immediately made a mental note to get the kid a signed shirt as he saved the email into his personal inbox.

This was probably the only good thing about desk duty, other than the crippling boredom, having to file paperwork and assign sidekicks to mundane tasks like rescuing kittens from trees.

A loud sound broke his attention away from replying to an email about graffiti outside their local supermarket as he noticed a pretty woman with a headset over her head and a microphone to her cheek.

You’d been trying to get this annoying client to stop shouting at you for at least fifteen minutes, the attitude had started to become progressively worse as he complained about receiving compensation for propert destruction at the hands of Pro-Hero Dynamight and his sidekicks.

Your constant apologies landed on deaf ears as you tried to reason with the man, asking him to stop shouting at you as you felt tears of frustration begin to well in your eyes. Trying to remember to breathe as you wondered whether you’d get in trouble for simply hanging up—

Gasping in surprise when someone plucked the headset from the top of your head as you turned to look up at the Pro-Hero Dynamight standing behind you. A look of sheer annoyance on his face as he held one side of the headset to his ear to hear the man that had been shouting at you for the past ten minutes continuing to raise his voice on the line, clearly unaware that you were no longer listening to him.

“Listen, you prick. I don’t know why you think it’s acceptable to shout at my staff, but you better fix your fucking tone if you call back again.”

You heard a sound of recognition on the phone before the line went silent. You wondered whether the man had hung up out of embarrassment or sheer fear. Bakugou muttered “idiot” beneath his breath held the headpiece back to you, taking it wordlessly as he made his way back to his desk. Slumping back down into the desk chair as he began to sway in it side to side once more as he tried to avoid looking at the slow moving clock on the screen.

“You can take five minutes, you know.” Bakugou called across the room. The night shift at the agency was often quiet, when most people had gone home for the day— just how he liked it.

“I’m not sure I can with my boss watching me.” You smiled back softly, blinking back the tears that had clung to your thick lashes.

“I won’t tell if you don’t, sweetheart.” He scoffed.

Maybe desk duty wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[xamassed]

⟬ @houseofvaricty ⟭

And while you're at it, check his personal files, the ones he keeps on the private phone he carries.

Those words haunted her. For three days, they replayed themselves during her quiet moments — before sleep, while she ate her breakfast and on her walk to work. She tried to ignore them, but it was impossible to shake them loose when that treacherous villain's voice clung to her like stinking cigarette smoke.

"I can't..."

She lingered in the door of his personal office, blue eyes glued to the plain desk he so rarely lounged behind. As his secretary, it was her job to tend to his messes and ensure his most important space was organized. There were certain drawers she didn't touch, as she was sure that she would feel the same if she had someone tend to her desk. He was allowed his privacy, and she wanted to respect that.

The longer she gazed at the desk, however, the thinner her resolve became. Every passing second added to her anxiety, the what if's and doubt thick and dripping into the foundation of trust she had built with the hero over the last year.

"This is stupid. I shouldn't listen to a bad guy."

She should have turned away then, but she didn't. She stepped forward and closed the door beside her, glad for the fact that her boss's sidekicks weren't around.

With quiet footsteps, she crept forward. She couldn't imagine that he trapped the desk when the office sat so high up the building, but she was exceedingly cautious as she rounded the desk and pushed his chair aside.

"I'll just look. I won't find anything in there, anyway."

She ignored the drawers she normally looked through. He gave her permission to rifle through those, so it didn't make sense that he might hide a strange phone there.

The first drawer was empty. No surprise there. He didn't seem the type to fill his desk with garbage or useless trinkets. The second drawer had a stack of papers and pristine folders, and the third was the same.

"Where would he even hide another phone?" She tried to search through the second and third drawer, but it was as she lifted the hefty stack of envelopes that she felt something strange. She set the stack aside, save for the bottom most envelope. It was thicker and heavier than the rest, the lump inside distinctly phone-shaped.

"I can't tell what it is." She tried to justify putting it back and ignoring it. "Even if it is a phone, it — it could be for a lover or something."

She stared the envelope down, sweat beading along her hairline and palms. A quick flip, and she realized that the envelope wasn't sealed. She assured herself again and again and she could put it back after opening it and discovering the contents inside.

But she didn't.

She opened the loose flap, pulled out a small phone and stared at the screen as it brightened in her palm. Her hands shook, even as she grasped at her own fingers to calm the violent trambling.

Her habit of speaking into the air ceased now that she knew she was too far into her search. It was pointless to pretend that she hadn't found it, and it seemed just as pointless to stop there. She needed to know more, and the only way to learn was to access the phone.

If this phone was treated the way any other phone was, it likely had a pin. She had only a small handful of tries before it locked her out for good. That meant she needed to be careful and keep her guesses to a minimum.

There were the obvious choice, but attempting the digits of his birthday and birth month failed. She tried to switch the formatting, but that too failed.

"What would it be?" She tried to wrack her mind, but there were so few numbers associated with the hero. It made her wonder: what was the truth, or was she a horrible secretary? He made her feel as if he were the best he'd had since his start as a hero, but it felt like an easy claim to question now that she knew about the phone.

"Knowing him, it's probably something random." She jammed at the screen with her thumb three more times, each try denying her access. "Of course, I'm not going to be able to get in."

This was likely a ruse, or a clever trick meant to amuse the villain that had told her about the phone to begin with. For all she knew, it had always been here. He could have a habit of keeping old devices, and Dabi had only gotten under her skin because there was a chance that Hawks had a phone somewhere in his desk.

She had one last try, then she would have no choice but to put it back.

"Let's be a little silly then." She shrugged and tapped in her own birthday. He had made it a point to tell her once that he wouldn't forget it. Their relationship was meant to be professional, but she had believed him when he made that bold claim.

The screen unlocked, and regret seized her chest.

"He didn't..." He had, and now she had to dig deeper. Her first thought was to check his contacts. There was a single entry, the name a single emoji. There was plenty of room to make assumptions, but she had to know for certain to whom the number belonged,

She knew in the not-so-distant future that she would wish she hadn't pressed the 'call button, but she did because it would kill her all the sooner if she didn't.