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jenngerbread13 · 11 months ago

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Villain Valentine Day 7 - Do Bad Things To Me

Making their way to their room in the Pendants, Kerina’s head spun and thoughts raced as they had just done something absolutely insane. To even continue it. To urge him onwards. Letting him so far into their head with such a palpable pull between them that even they couldn’t deny its existence. Heart pounding in their chest, they closed the door to their room, white-knuckles and shaking fingers gripping the doorframe like a lifeline to help them calm down. They swore, knowing that they’d never forget that moment and yet it felt like a memory being brought up over again and again from their past. His hunger felt so familiar, the thinly-veiled want within him. Something they instinctively knew could only be awakened by very few, of him giving in to his base wants and desires. Their own body and very soul reciprocated that same hunger, wanting him with an intensity they weren’t used to.

I’m going crazy. This is all just mental manipulation and I’m being driven mad by the light, the curse, and by him. He’s nothing more than an enemy I want to know the motives of. Nothing more. They tried to rationalize the sudden intense feelings and why now, they found themselves drawn towards the enemy. Towards him.

You say that and yet you know you joked around with the BBTC that if you had known Gaius looked and sounded like that under the armor, you might have been persuaded to join their side back in the Praetorium. Their second voice chimed in.

Oh, fuck off. Kerina thought back to themselves and flung their hat, coat, aetherotransformer, and pistol onto the bench before flopping themselves down onto their bed. Clawing at a pillow, they shoved it under their face and screamed into it as loud as possible in frustration of all the overwhelming feelings.

“Tsk. if I knew that’s all it took to get you screaming into a pillow, I would have kissed you sooner.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Kerina spat out into the pillow not bothering to lift their head or turn to face him.

Rolling his eyes, he sat down on the bed next to them, crossing his arms over his chest, staring down at their back “You know I’m not going anywhere.”

Turning their head to face away from him so they could at least breathe, they muttered out “What happened to you just observing?”

They could feel him shrug and shift his posture a bit to face them a bit more “Oh, make no mistake, I would have been content to observe your little group flail and flounder until finally we could continue with the rejoining. However, when it was clear you not only remembered your past but remembered me, I couldn’t help myself in being greedy. Surely you understand how finding a kindred soul in a sea of those who don’t understand you feels, Hero.”

Absently fixing their hair, not used to the length it had started to grow to, they continued to speak in a hushed tone “I’m not the type of lover you’re probably used to.”

Rolling over to sit up and stand, they walked away from the bed, grasping their arms close to their chest, clearly nervous. He could see that but stayed where he sat, watching, knowing they were thinking about how to say what they wanted to say. She’d always had issues confessing her feelings and emotions. As much as things changed, she always stayed the same, even in this broken form. She would always be herself and no one else.

“Not to say I don’t have any experience,” Kerina continued, still standing, shifting from foot to foot in the middle of their room, “I’m so used to everyone thinking that because of this curse and what I’ve done, I’m good at everything I do. So many weird stares and proposals. I’ve not even had time to entertain casual romance for the most part let alone develop any skill in that area. I will admit it’s one area that I don’t have much of a clue of what I’m doing. Hells, I don’t even have anything that could even be remotely considered appealing insofar as clothing both outer or underwear.”

“You’re telling me with clearly how much care and pride you put into your appearance you have absolutely nothing in that dresser of yours that you’d look attractive in?” he scoffed, getting off the bed and wandering over to the dresser, starting to rummage through the drawers which opened up to reveal prisms showcasing tiny images of what lay inside “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Shaking their head they stood, watching him stand there at the dresser, pulling various prisms out, turning them this way and that before leaving five placed atop the dresser. “I understand that you are not of the typical pedestrian crowd when it comes to wanting to look attractive, by way of ‘the more you show, the more attractive you feel’. However, you are still quite attractive, My Dear Hero, and I think this would showcase that quite nicely still fitting within your stylistic tendencies.”

Hesitatingly, they walked over to the dresser, feeling him place a hand on their lower back as they looked over the prisms ��Only if you want to, however. I shan’t ever force you into a decision on my account.”

Turning around they stared up at him, a smirk on his face and a look in his eyes that they could only attribute to affection. That slightest upturn in his cheeks, and the relaxation at the corner of his eyes and brows that gave it away. They placed a finger on his chest a few ilms below the large charm on his collar. “In that case, would you perhaps do me one teensy favor?”

“Oh?” His eyebrow arched, eyes still locked onto theirs, curiosity mixed with mischief as the muscles on the upper sides of his face tightened instinctively, betraying his thoughts.

“Since you know far more about it than I do, I’ll trust your judgment as well on perhaps securing me some… nicer undergarments?” They couldn’t stop the blush spreading across their face, turning their head downwards to hide their embarrassment at admitting something so intimate.

They felt him tugging at something behind them, and felt the warm soft flesh of his hand tilt their chin up to look at him, his face now mere ilms from theirs, his breath ghosting across their face as that same mischievous look still held. “As you wish, My Dear Hero. Do know that no matter what you wear, you will always be attractive.”

Eyes widening at the feel of his skin on theirs, his long, slender fingers spreading out to gently graze down their throat, teasing the chain of their necklace with his thumb. They knew he could feel them swallow their breath as they stood nearly motionless, gazing back up at him, paralyzed by the intensity of what they felt.

Barely breathing, their voice came out no louder than a whisper “Why do I have a feeling you want to do bad things to me?”

An absolutely ravenous feral grin crossed his face as he lowered his head, placing his lips so close to their neck they could feel with every slight movement how they grazed their skin. “Oh, My Dear Hero, you read me so well. I want to do absolutely, terrible, wicked, filthy things to you. I want to render from you every last mote of breath in your lungs as I make you cry out in ecstasy.” Grabbing them tightly around the waist, pulling them flush against him he heard them squeal in surprise as he continued “Leave every single bit of your fragile existence etched with me seared into its memory.”

Just as quickly as he had descended on them, he released them, raised his right hand and snapped, as lacy fabric descended from the air onto their bed. “A precaution, My Dear Hero, only wear that should you want to signal to me that you accept my offer. I of course will give you time to think it over. Take care.”

Quickly putting his leather glove back on, he opened up a portal, leaving with his signature wave, while Kerina stood there, grasping at the dresser to steady themselves and breathing heavily. How dare he. How could he just get past their defenses so easily and leave them weak and breathless. Leave them stuttering for words as if they weren’t strong. Defiant. In control. They placed their own hand on their neck, remembering the ghost of his own. Finally someone willing to meet them on their level. Above their level. Willing to challenge them and show them how to break past their self-imposed limits.

Taking large, steady breaths of air, holding, releasing, and holding again in a pattern of eight, eventually they straightened up and released their hold on the glamour dresser. Smiling, they placed the five prisms into a plate and had the mechanism inside the dresser save it. Looking over to the bed, they blushed, still embarrassed that they had asked him for such things. Still, the lace was gorgeous and well made as they brushed their fingers over it, picking it up. They appreciated that he gave them space to get into the right headspace, to make sure that this decision was theirs and theirs alone. Carefully folding it up and placing it in the back of a drawer, they smiled. He truly did see and understand them. He really did care.

#villainvalentine #villainvalentine2024 #emetwol #wolship

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years ago

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Foul - Boxer!Din AU

Definition - To break one of boxing’s rules (i.e. hitting an opponent below the navel, ear or while they are down), which can ultimately lead to point deductions if they are repeated.

A/N: The results of my Boxer!AU poll told me that the majority were interested in a jealous/protective boxer so I hope I have delivered! As always, relaxed fit = unedited, no beta. We also have a sneaky introduction to Paz in the Boxer verse which is super exciting! His concept art has been completed by the insanely talented @ronnieiswriting when I said I saw a mix of Jason Momoa and Winston Duke as our heavy. PLEASE heed the warnings in this chapter. There is nothing explicit but the topics hinted at might be triggering.

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! (unprotected sex), blood and violence, toxic masculinity and derogatory speech, hints at discussions of non-con, somewhat possessive behavior, spanking, dom!Din and everything that comes with it.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

He might as well have been in hell. A colosseum of decaying humanity and dirt floors that erupted in a burst of dust like poisonous ash every time his next opponent fell. The hollow thump of pure muscle meeting the ground of the makeshift ring only drowned by the cheers of spectators. Masked, shadowed—unseen as they dropped hundreds – thousands sometimes – on which gladiator would remain standing in the end.

He felt like a king, a god among men within the confines of his realm of rope and canvas. It was easy to forget—standing under the spotlights that highlighted the sweat and blood and sculpted beauty of primal masculinity that it was a hollow victory any time he fought in the seedy underground rings of Akiva.

Every gladiator was a slave. Even the victor.

Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to let you come to one of these fights?

“Enough!”

Paz’s unassailable strength banded around Din’s chest, pinning his arms to his side—attempting to contain lightning in a glass jar. Sweat, blood—it all dripped into Din’s eyes as he growled at his opponent, passed out in the middle of the dirt ring—face swollen and puffy from Din’s fists.

Laser focus and animosity spilled from charcoal eyes as he tried to break free of his friends hold with a vicious yank forward of powerful shoulder and an unfaltering purpose. The bastard had it coming. One round a few punches wasn’t enough to slake Din’s anger, the fumes of rage seeping into his skin and clouding his senses until all he could think of was making the asshole on the ground before him pay.

The practiced speed that Din wrapped his hands slowed at the rowdy group on the other side of the room. Dammit, for all the money they brought in, could these cheapskates not provide separate fucking changing rooms so he didn’t have to be subjected to idiots jacking themselves up on testosterone and false hope?

But pissing contests and fragile masculinity weren’t what caught his attention. He could tune that bullshit out like a fine art. What caught Din’s attention was the obvious death wish one of his possible opponents had – if he even managed to get that far up the ranks to Din – when he waved a red flag in front of the boxers’ metaphorical bull.

“See that one in the front row? You know the one I’m talking about.”

Bawdy agreements and asinine gestures raked up Din’s spine, thorny—and prickling nerves of instinct that made him pause the music blaring in his ears. He fucking hated the scum he came across in these fights. Gang members, criminals—the dredges of humanity he sometimes worried he was part of.

“Gonna get her on her knees choking on my cock before the night is out. Sluts like that love titles, champions—why else do they attend? Good excuse to win tonight, eh fellas?”

“Do you wanna completely destroy your career?” Paz yelled over the chortles and raucous cheers for more, for revenge—for everything under the poor fallacy of a sun that strung in dim, bald bulbs along the notoriously infamous Avika fighting ring.

Din thought you would be safe, arrogantly assuming people would avoid even looking at you once they saw who you were with. And you had been—you were safe, but even he couldn’t protect you from the thoughts of others.

The larger man struggled with him, dragging him out of the ring when it was obvious his words were falling on deaf ears. All Din could hear was the little pricks voice in his head from hours before.

Din stood.

Inhaled, exhaled—tried those bullshit breathing exercises that were supposed to focus his mind before a fight. Help to rein in a temper like his from overflowing in devastating tidal waves to destroy all around him. Din didn’t lose his temper often—but when he did, it was lethal.

The breathing exercises didn’t work.

Because the idiot kept talking.

“Did you see the ass on that?”

Leers sounded from his group of friends. Encouraging the vile words that Din always knew came from a man who felt entitled to a woman’s body. He had seen enough of the underbelly of the world to know what that led to time and again. Din might have been shameless in his youth and even until recently when it came to sex, to one night stands, to women—but he fucking respected the girls he fucked or didn’t fuck.

“Traipsing around in a dress like that? She’s looking for the attention,” the asshole defended himself when one of his party voiced an alternative point of view. They were promptly shut down and didn’t speak again.

Din’s blood turned to ice. An image of you running a hand down his arm on your way to your seat when you parted ways for him to get ready, dress sinfully tight but effortlessly classy—a zip front he was dying to pull open with his teeth later that night.

“It’ll look so good with my cock buried in it…”

The ice in his blood turned to fury, white hot and molten as he tied off the tape at his wrists—throwing the roll into the dingy locker he had been given for the evening. The clatter of noise from where it slammed against the metal back was the only warning he was planning on giving them. The lull of conversation was fleeting, his warning going unheeded—when dim-witted morons didn’t read the murder in his gaze.

Looks like they weren’t nearly as intelligent as the pigs he thought them to be.

Grabbing his water bottle and phone, Din stalked towards the chipped door—distracting himself with a text of “don’t go anywhere alone in this place, sweetheart. Ask Paz to go with you�� sent to you without a second thought.

The immediate response of “Yes yes I know, for the thousandth time. Don’t worry and focus on yourself” did little to assuage the roar of blood in his ears. There was only one thing he heard over the noise, one thing as his vision became hued in red and fixated on a single target.

“Wonder if she’ll let me fuck her there too—can’t imagine she’s a virgin but her ass will still probably be tighter than her cunt.”

Bald headed and littered in scars and tattoos of a gang known for their viciousness, the other boxer – if he could even be called that – thrust vulgarly into the air, mimicking the hold he would have on the girl. Din’s girl.

The fucker had a death wish.

And Din was only too happy to play the part of the grim reaper.

His friends voice hardly registered over that same ringing in his ears, the roar of protective aggression at the lecherous sneer on the other man’s face who now lay in a heap in the dirt, the filth he spewed about his masseuse, his girl. How beady eyes, cold and villainous dared to drift away from Din before the bell sounded—over his shoulder, to where he knew you were sitting. Knowing your body had been tainted by the gaze of a man who would sooner take what he wanted from you by force than look at you with anything akin to the respect you deserved—it made something snap inside of Din.

And he attacked.

He was lucky he had only been disqualified.

He was damn lucky no one called the cops.

But the perks of underground fighting, was that everyone who attended had something to hide. And no one wanted to be caught in the middle of shady transactions or betting on fighters to beat each other to a pulp. Hell, the savagery Din subjected the other guy to was exactly what half the fuckers who showed up hoped to see.

Din wasn’t just a nameless street fighter though, not anymore. He had something to lose. Any smear on his record for assault and he would be suspended from tournament participation quicker than the asshole’s body dropped after a crushing blow under the jaw by Din’s right uppercut.

Thank fuck Din’s main sponsor was equally as shady. A good man by Din’s logic, but merciless when it came to succeeding. Din being benched was the surest way to make his benefactors patience run out. No, Paz was right—Boba even more so when he clocked Din good in the cheek after Paz wrestled the irate male out of the ring.

“You fucking idiot, bloodlust is an ugly image, boy—”

“I am not a boy—” Din snapped at Boba, teeth bared and bloody from his split lip, neck straining when he spat the words viciously at his long-time coach. He ran his tongue over the metallic tang of blood before spitting it out of his mouth onto the dirt flooring by the chaotic rows of metal seating.

“You almost killed a guy in the ring, you little shit,” Boba snarled with equal venom, matching the anger reflected in Din’s gaze with furious sense Din didn’t want to witness.

“Let me go,” was all Din growled, eyes never leaving his coach’s even when Paz loosened his arms around his chest. Heaving, coal black eyes darkened dangerously and stabbed the former boxer with a dare to try and restrain him again. The other man shook a rope of dreadlock that had come loose from the strip of leather he kept his hair tied in and made to say something when Din interrupted,

“Where is she?”

Paz closed his mouth, heavy brows furrowing over his eyes as recognition dawned in their dark hues,

“Is that what this is about? Dammit, vod—it’s not like she’s your girlfriend, isn’t that what you always say?”

“Don’t fucking try me tonight—” Din snapped aggressively, the threatening hum between the two men charged to dangerous voltage.

“Din?”

Your voice washed over him – aloe on the burns his fury had scorched his skin with – and he was making his way over to you in the next moment, mind battling with instinct as he ignored the calls and curses of his friends.

Mine.

Not yours—

Mine.

He moved with feral grace, parting the sea of people who bleated from the sidelines but cowered in his presence once his attention was facing them and there was no canvas or rope to separate boxer from spectator. They were lucky. He didn’t see them. Would step on them if they were stupid enough to stay in his path. All he could see, was you—watching him with confusion and concern marring those pretty features, absent of fear in the face of an incensed, adrenaline fueled boxer post fight.

He exhaled a growl as he came to stand before you, the sound cavernous and deep in his chest—the hands you had lifted to examine his face intercepted by his own when he grabbed them. His fingers wrapped fully around your wrists, and he was reminded of how fragile you were – even if you worked out whenever you could and had a will of iron that would make you whack him for saying that – and just how easily a man like him, any of the fighters here tonight—could hurt you.

Never.

They wouldn’t dare.

Not with him around.

But how could they know?

How would they know to stay the fuck away from you?

Knuckles stained with dirt and blood; his hand rasped against the softness of your palm as he dragged you in the direction of the unused backstage waiting room fighters had been offered as a changing room. Where this whole fucking thing started.

“Din—Din, what the hell happened up there?”

You jogged behind him to keep up with his pace, long legs taking him farther than your shorter ones could when confined to the heels you had worn for the night out. He stalked through the dimly lit corridors to the flaky, chipped door with a temporary sign on lined paper with “ATHLETES” scrawled along the front of it like some ironic joke.

He almost bent the worn, cheap metal handle in half—nearly pulled it from its socket with how hard he tore the door open and dragged you over the threshold inside.

You whirled on him with a huff, eyes flashing and hands planting on your hips in growing annoyance.

“Din will you just—”

You didn’t get another word out.

His wrapped hands cupped your cheeks between them, his mouth on yours hungrily when he bent over you. Biting, clawing, desperate—the kiss was more a battle of tongue and teeth than anything else. There was nothing soft, nothing slow or affectionate about the way his teeth sank into your bottom lip so hard you gasped. The way the blood seeping from his split lip painted yours in a crimson rouge—smeared and varnishing you in a visceral mark of his claim.

“Mine,” he snarled unknowingly into your mouth, lapping his tongue along the prairies of your tastebuds, plundering the depths of your mouth to brand every inch of you he could reach. Inside and out. His hands had the same idea, forming down over the shape of your curves as he walked you back blindly to the disused vanity pushed against the closest wall. Topped with a row of mirrors undoubtedly used by performers for whatever this place had once been used for, the glass was now aged with discoloration.

It didn’t matter.

He didn’t have eyes for anything but you as he hiked your legs up to perch you on the edge, your fingers curled into the taut muscles at his neck and clawing down over the sweat slick muscles of his pecs—catching on flat nipples that made ripples of pleasure heat his body further. Mad him tangle a hand in your hair, yank your head back harshly and meet your eyes with dark desire before dropping to your neck. His newest target.

“Din…” your irritated, questioning tone had morphed to fervent sighs. His tongue mapped a trail from the corner of your mouth – tasting the tang of his own blood – to the rapid tattoo of your pulse, a delicate sheen of perspiration beginning to shimmer on your flushed skin from the arousal. Another layer of flavor for him to get drunk on.

So fucking hot under his hands.

So beautiful.

So his.

“Mine,” he repeated into the curve of your neck, framed by tremulous stretches of muscle either side that he carved with scrapes of his teeth to leave tracks of slow fading pink grazes before he bit into it. Your legs – already open and inviting him to settle between them – crossed at the ankles around his narrow hips to keep him close. It was fucking intoxicating the way he could make you feel, the desperate need he had for you.

Months of sleeping together, of knowing his body so intimately had given you a rare insight to his emotions whether he knew it or not. And you knew he didn’t need to talk right now, he needed to fuck. To work through whatever had affected him so badly in hard kisses and rough hands on your soft flesh. It didn’t stop your stomach from flipping at his possessive words though, deliriously spoken but whispering the unacknowledged desires you had for him beyond his body.

“Yours,” you admitted before you could stop yourself, your hand cupping under his jaw to lift his mouth back to yours. His raspy moan at your agreement turned positively filthy when you carded short nails through his damp hair. Din was weak to having his hair stroked, his staunch dominance buckling in violent shivers of pleasure when you dragged those skilled fingers down the back of his skull and neck.

Traipsing around in a dress like that…

His eyes flew open, and he broke the kiss—ripped his mouth from yours to press his forehead to yours, eyes searching while his free hand ran indulgently up your torso to the neckline of your dress,

“Never let anyone disrespect you, sweetheart—” he rumbled, his fingers already undoing the zip of the dress, the nude pink material tempting to the eye and celebrating those features you were most proud of—that he found irresistible to know you loved. That someone could make you uncomfortable in those clothes… fucker. He snarled and pressed a long kiss to your mouth, large hands spreading the sides of the dress open wide – no underwear, baby? – and shucked the material down your arms to leave you bare before him.

His appreciation for your body – fucking gorgeous – was only tampered by the frustration he had with himself at the noise of confusion you made at his words. Of course, you hadn’t heard anything that asshole had said thankfully—but fuck, he couldn’t get it out of his head. You read his desperation somehow, and nodded slowly with puzzled eyes, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip as you leaned back on your hands.

So trusting…

Fuck.

It made alarm and something akin to fear rise swell uncomfortably in his throat.

He tried again.

“Never let anyone take advantage of you,” he whispered against your mouth in earnest, his hands running up your bare thighs to press his thumbs into the seams of your legs and hips, “tell me—”

His mouth dropped to your collarbone, funneling those feelings into lapping down to your heaving breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a groan and befuddling your mind to his request until he nipped the swollen peak – say it, baby – and caused your head to fall back against the mirror,

“Yes—yes,” you moaned, “I won’t—”

He snarled internally, dammit. Hearing you say it didn’t help. He wanted to say how he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, how he wouldn’t let anyone ever take advantage of you. But he couldn’t. Had to frame it like advice he would give any woman he knew instead of speaking it like the promise he wanted to make.

Din had been fucking you for the last few months now, exclusively after only a few months—but it never went beyond that. He had no reason, no excuse to be worried over your life or safety or what you did when you weren’t in his bed. He wasn’t expected to be involved in your life the way a friend or family member was. Not the way a boyfriend was.

He didn’t do relationships. Never had. Too much trouble and frankly—he liked his privacy, his space—and liked not being accountable to anyone but himself. The consequences of any shitty decisions he made would fall on him and him alone. If he demanded that of the women he slept with and then insisted on inserting himself into their lives in the next breath, he would be a hypocrite. And Din hated hypocrites.

He couldn’t.

But fuck. He never wanted to hear someone speak that way about you, never wanted them to think they had the slightest chance with a woman like you. His blood boiled at the notion of someone else’s hands on you, his tempered flared when he imagined your pleasure or smiles, or laughter give to someone who didn’t deserve you.

Like he did?

Fuck no, he knew he didn’t.

He never said he wasn’t selfish though, and he coveted you with sinful greed.

“Fuck me, baby—please, please—” you mewled into his neck as your hands that had started all of this with that first massage, fit into the sliver of space between your bodies to stroke along his cock over his shorts impatiently. His head fell back, and his mind blissfully emptied for a moment, grunting your name at the frisson of pleasure before those damned memories resurfaced again.

Look at the ass on that.

That.

Her. You weren’t a thing, a possession. You were—

He snarled. Misplaced anger manifesting in aggressive passion as he grabbed your wrist from where you stroked him to pin behind your back on the vanity.

“Always so eager, aren’t you—” he grinned darkly when you nodded, “turn around.”

The command was delivered low and dangerous, more a rumble of noise—deep echoes of jungle predators crackling like the kindling of threat, inspiring awareness that one wrong move would be fatal. But you never made a wrong move—not for as long as he had known you. Whether it was alleviating a pain deep in his muscles that had bothered him for months or pushing yourself slowing off the vanity to your feet as you were now—you always knew what he needed.

Wisps of hair fell into his eyes as he watched you—the decided turn of your naked body to dace the mirror—eyes never leaving his even as they caught them again in the aged glass. Bending forward, your ass pressed into the front of his shorts, and you rested your elbows on the vanity.

Perfect.

He didn’t realize he had whispered the word as he pressed his mouth between your shoulder blades, tongue trailing down the arch of your spine while his hands kneaded plush cheeks—spreading them and exposing your slick cunt to the cool air. The hitches in your breath, small squirms of your hips for relief—they all fed into his desire for you.

And he desired you. Constantly.

“I’m gonna eat your pussy until you can’t stand, baby—and then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t speak,” he muttered against the shell of your ear, massive bulk bowed over your back and shadowed eyes – the duality of warm walnut and lethal obsidian – bore into yours through the glass.

“I want them all to know who you belong to,” he nipped your ear, flicking his tongue along the cartilage—the black ink on his back catching the light as his muscles rippled with movement, a roll of pleasure from your ass grinding back against him with a whimper of his name, “so don’t be quiet this time, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered open molasses slow from where they had dropped closed at his words,

“What—what hap—” you tried to turn your head, the concern mingled with lust in those gorgeous, honest eyes making warning bells blare painfully – too close – and he silenced you with a kiss. Swallowing the worry that hinted at feelings that surpassed those expected from a fuck buddy, he buried it deep inside himself, in the shadows like a coward. To be locked away where he would remain safe from it.

Your tongue grew sloppy with a moan when he ground his crotch into your ass—dragging the solid thickness of his clothed cock between your soaked folds and up against your tight rear entrance.

Wonder if she’ll let me take her there…

Bastard.

He sucked on your tongue with a groan of your name, hand releasing your cheeks to fan up your ribcage and cup your breasts. You jerked in sensitivity when rough hands pinched sore nipples – he fucking loved how sensitive your tits got just before your period. The cry you released was nothing short of musical, tempting him lower as he kissed down your spine—wrapped hands sanding down over your ribs again when he lapped around the rim of your ass, circling it before he traced lower.

You were dripping.

He dropped to his knees behind you, eyes drunken with an ingrained pride that he was the one in this position, looking at the petals of your swollen pussy glistening with arousal he inspired from just a few kisses and rolls of his hips. He kept his eyes on the steady trickle of wetness from your twitching entrance, his teeth grazing distractedly down the back of your thigh as he did so.

A finger ruddy with flecks of dried blood caught a string of your arousal – don’t waste a drop – and he sucked it between his lips with an approving groan, the noise of your whimpers the perfect accompaniment. Blood and lust. The essence of humanity, that was what he tasted when he sucked his finger clean. It tasted like life. And he wanted more.

A sharp crack echoed through the room when his hand came down hard on one cheek, and again... and again—each strike making that dripping wetness gush until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He buried his face in your cunt, nosing at your entrance and tongue spreading puffy lips apart so he could trace in pitter patter swipes through your folds—greedily gathering anything he could get on his tongue before swallowing. Dehydrated on the sands of depravity and sordid company—your cunt was an oasis of relief where he eagerly drank his fill.

You tried to move, your hips slamming up against the edge of the vanity – that’ll bruise – and you keened with a shuddering cry when his mouth simply followed your attempt to escape the onslaught of pleasure that was too much too soon.

“Fuck—fuckfuckfuck—” you gasped, dropping a hand back to tangle in his hair, dragging him closer despite your protests. Mm, he loved when you got like this—overstimulated from the first touch. No matter how much you whined, no matter how many times he wiped tears that smudged your makeup when he unraveled orgasm after orgasm from the knots inside you—he knew you loved the intensity as much as he did.

He spanked you again – take it – your cheeks red and beautiful when he spread them side for him to spit directly onto your quivering cunt. His saliva dribbled and mixed with your juices to gather over your clit, his mouth forming over the little bud enthusiastically, urged by your slow ruts back against his face to streak his face with your essence.

“More—” you whimpered.

“Greedy—” he growled back.

The sound of your breathless laugh meshed delightfully with the swallow of a moan – guttural and primal – and made his cock twitch in his shorts. His hips snapped up uselessly from where he was kneeling—finding no purchase or warm embrace to bury itself in as his tongue took that pleasure for itself.

It licked and curled with practiced, seemingly illogical strokes along your clit and up to your entrance—sloppily kissing it before his tongue dove into your tight depths, thumb working in quick circles over your clit. He knew exactly what to do to make you come undone.

Your first orgasm was sudden—strong and surprising. He hadn’t even fucking fingered you and you were already spasming around nothing. Your muscles tensed as you went on your toes to lean even further on the vanity, trying to escape his tongue that worked you through each wave—drowning you in the pleasure he knew only he could give you. You were his. His his his his h—

You sobbed his name, a raw answer to his internal mantra his mind struggled against and failed to overcome.

Din wanted you.

He wanted your body, your mind, your time—he wanted what Paz had.

Fuck.

The way the older man mooned and gazed with shameless adoration for the little baker he had fallen for in so short a time. Hell, Din teased him over it constantly. And maybe he didn’t want that—but he wanted something. Din wanted something with you. Wanted you to visit him in the gym and stop him mid set just to kiss him and tell him that you would wait for him to finish so you could go home together. He wanted to buy you flowers without having to think of a fucking excuse like last time to distance himself from the sentimentality. He wanted to open his front door and feel our presence as more than just a visitor. That a toothbrush and the stray pieces of clothing you forgot at his place would turn to shoes at the door and your taste in décor mixing with his.

Din wanted you.

But he had no idea how to do anything but fuck you. He didn’t know how to date or be romantic. Was clueless to things like companionship—to the softer emotions he knew you craved. That all people craved. Din had no idea how to do any of it.

You lay with your cheek on the wooden surface of the vanity, eyes half-closed and spacey as you watched him lift his head from your pussy, face shiny from your release and when he licked over his lips, still hungry for more—you mewled.

“Don’t tap out on me yet, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, a whimper and almost childish refusal while your cheek remained plastered to the vanity, all strength having left your body and an adorable pout trying to lie and tell him you couldn’t take any more.

“Mm, yes you can—” he answered you, dragging his mouth back up your slit and along your tight ass where he lapped at the rim again. Later. It took time for him to stretch you to take his size—it was better left for when he had you in his apartment and could take his time.

His hand followed his mouths direction as it continued up to meet your mouth—smirking against your lips at the whimpers you made from the slaps he gave your pussy—the obscene, wet sound filling the area with each slap slap slap until his hand was damn near slipping every time he struck your cunt from how wet it was.

A bang on the door—a harsh slap to your pussy so you would moan just right for him, and he growled out a threatening “occupied” to whoever was outside. You were too high strung to even notice.

“No one else can have you,” he rasped darkly into your temple, his free hand tangling in the strands to pull your head back against his shoulder—the position no doubt edging on uncomfortable with the way your spine and neck were arched back—moUlded into his hard frame. Your eyes fell to half mast even as your lips parted—still smeared with specks of blood you hadn’t yet licked or chewed off—and he bit your jaw in warning.

“No one else—” you parroted, your hot breath fanning over his cheek even as you rocked back against him, a steel confidence entering your fucked out gaze—mercurial in the swirling heat, “just like no one else can have you.”

The boldness of your words, the conviction spoken in that voice of wooden flutes and bubbling creeks made his blood light with fire—yes. As much as he anted you, he yearned for you to crave him in return.

“No one else,” he repeated your words back to you, rutting his hips against you when his cock pulsed with a negligent ache that demanded to be addressed. He kept one hand in your hair when he pushed his shorts down enough to free his leaking cock, the turgid length swollen and angry as he rubbed the tip between your lips.

Maybe he would buy you flowers tomorrow, after all.

Din gave you no time to prepare yourself – that’s my girl – sliding inside you with one brutal thrust that had you pushed up against the mirror and his cock engulfed in fiery bliss. He felt the heat run up his spine, a volcanic metamorphism into marble as his muscles froze in an immediate pause to stop himself from spilling inside you after one damn thrust.

You weren’t doing much better—one hand clawing for purchase on the mirror and the other digging your nails into his hip as you panted his name, an incoherent string of curses and praise as your sensitive walls convulsed around him. The position had him pressed right against that one spot he cock curved up against that could make you see stars and your care for being caught dissipate in cries of ecstasy.

“Baby—fuck please, so—too deep—” you whimpered in inane babbles, tightening in residual spasms from your orgasm and the sudden intrusion of his cock, still a stretch after all these months. Too deep… he snorted, rolling his hips hard to try shove himself deeper still. He could never get deep enough, always wanting more—always seeking to conquer the untouched lands of your body.

“Mm, want me to stop?” he teased, dragging his hips back with a smirk at your immediate rejection of no no no fuck—please, no—hand pathetically trying to drag him closer to you by the hip. Lovely little thing… thinking you were strong enough.

“That’s better…” he purred, relief washing over him when he pulled out—the walls of your cunt stretching around him, refusing his exit, and trying to keep him nestled inside you. The pace he chose was brutal. He fucked you like he fought tonight. Violently, mercilessly—and deaf to the calls to relent. But where he wanted his opponent to suffer, he wanted to devastate you with pleasure, enrapture you with ecstasy and leave you moaning his name where others would curse it.

Wet cock slapping as he pounded into you in short, frantic ruts – need you baby… fuck I need you – there was no time for you to catch a full breath before he was knocking it out of you again. His fingers had to tighten in your hair to keep you up – your body trembling under his as he sank his teeth into the taut muscle at your neck and his cock sank into your welcome body – exposed and waiting for him to litter in his signature.

He would never get enough of the way his marks looked on your skin—the way you decorated him in yours. You were powerless to do much else than accept them right now – likely getting him back later – boneless and weak under the attack of his mouth and the dominance of his body.

He would make sure everyone in this fucking shithole of a place knew who you were with. They would have to be blind not to notice the blotches of poppy bruises snaking down your neck with the elusion to more hidden from unworthy eyes. The smudge of your mascara as tears pearled like crystals in the corner of your eyes when you glanced at him in strung out bliss.

“M-more—” you begged, dropping one of your hands between your legs to rub at your clit—fingers splitting around the girth of his cock as he fucked you to feel the thick length disappear into you over and over, the soaked mess amassed from your frantic desire for each other trickling down your thighs.

“Yeah?” he grinned, breathless and sweating for much more pleasing reasons than he had been in the ring, a languid kiss to your neck as he hiked one of your knees up onto the vanity—spreading you wider for him to sink deeper.

You spasmed, your head falling back against his shoulder with a cry.

“Yes—there, there baby, fuck you feel so good…” you rambled, fingers working feverishly over your clit in wet strokes, grazing his balls every time they slapped against your skin and making him muffle his moan in your neck.

Rolling a nipple between his fingers, his large—bloodied hand completely swallowed your breast, squeezing it and tickling sounds that belonged to him from you and into his mouth when you kissed him. One last kiss before you collapsed back onto the vanity, and he stood to his full height so he could ruin you with his cock.

His name was the only thing you remembered as he split you open with full, hard thrusts—the entire length of his cock stretching your tight walls around it and playing along raw nerves already on the brink of another orgasm.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart—” he strained, desperate for release as he watched himself fuck you in the mirror—him behind your smaller body, squirming under the pleasure while his muscles bunched and relaxed with each snap of his hips—the veins in his forearms prominent and tendons taut as he poured all that training and dedication and determination into you, into pleasing you.

“Inside—inside, Din fuck, please—”

His mind emptied. Nothing else mattered about tonight—not the fight, not the disqualification, not the rage. Your eyes—cloudy with lust and achingly trusting as you looked back at him were all he could think about. Nodding without even realizing, the thought of filling you running in his mind on a loop.

“Fuck—!”

He wanted you to cum before him, he always did—but he was so high strung, so tense that he couldn’t stop himself, burying himself to the hilt with several punched out moans—exhaled rapture with every pump of his seed against your waiting womb. Your eyes rolled closed at the amount, bloating you with his release and as he came, you worked your clit frantically—chasing that addictive edge you gladly hurled yourself over at just the thought of him coming inside you.

Din dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp, your spasming walls too much on his sensitive length but he had to stay inside—the contractions of pleasure, the gush of your release might push his out. He couldn’t have that. So, he gritted his teeth, mumbled husky praise – good girl, that’s it—just like that, soak me – to work you through your orgasm and pressed open mouth kisses to sweaty skin, the salt tickling his tongue as he caught his breath.

His mouth worked over the sweep of your shoulder, up your neck to your jaw when your orgasm subsided, purring your name and nonsensical strings of words he had no idea made sense or not. He finally eased his softening cock out of you slowly when you shifted your hips—testing your strength and finding it lacking when you realized both he and the vanity were what kept your legs up.

“Feel… feel better?”

“Mhm…” he confirmed noncommittally, nuzzling the marks beginning to bloom and darken like a forbidden garden only he was allowed indulge in the scent of. One of his hands ran absently down the back of your thigh, feeling for his release—pleased to feel nothing but your sticky arousal, his own still nestled inside your sore cunt.

“Want one of those crepes you’re always raving about from that twenty-four hour place?” he purred, helping you stand—going so far as to pull the straps of your dress back up so that zipping the metal teeth would be easier. Your eyes brightened despite the lazy, satiated fatigue hiding in their orbs.

“Gino’s?”

“Mm,” he nodded, looking down from his greater height and lips quirking in an annoying desire to smile when one – bright as daylight – broke out on yours.

You nodded quickly, looping your arms around his neck to drag him down to your mouth, kissing him good and proper while his hands fell under the still open sides of your dress to settle on bare hips,

“Are you ever going to tell me what set you off tonight?” you mumbled against his lips cautiously, the ghost of a smile from the promise of dessert still lingering but a hesitant worry entering your gaze, unsure if his mood would sour again.

It didn’t.

He nudged his nose along yours, aquiline curve slotting along yours as he hummed in thought, thumbs rubbing lazily into your hips,

“Maybe later,” he settled on and captured your lips again.

You left the changing room together, his gym bag slung over one shoulder and his free arm wrapped around your shoulder—nose never leaving your temple or nuzzling into your hair with blatant affection as you blushed at how obvious it was to anyone who saw you what you had been doing.

You had both tried to tidy yourselves—cleaning the corners of your makeup and trying to flatten your mused hair was about all you could do. Din didn’t even attempt to cover the freshly fucked look of messy hair and heavy eyes as he pulled an unzipped Mythosaur Gym hoodie on over his muscle shirt.

A group were passing in the corridor as you asked him something—his former opponent with one eye swollen shut from the bruises forming around his eye, jaw, and cheeks. Din answered you easily, an automatic response to whatever you were asking as his eyes met his opponents, cold fury and arrogant pride flashing in their depths.

You remained none the wiser as you passed the group, Din’s body protectively placed between you and them. He probably should have told you; he knew you wouldn’t be swayed by it—comfortable in your body as you were, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He could protect you from slander and toxicity at the very least—and he planned to. Even if he had to do so in the shadows for now.

For himself, the swelling and bruising on the idiots’ face weren’t the only thing he had to satisfy himself with. He was the one whose cum was still buried inside you, clinging to your thighs and keeping you slick and wet for him to add more to later when he got you back to his place. And as you glanced up at him with a disarming smile after he dropped his hoodie over your shoulders without a thought once you both were outside in the crisp air of the early morning darkness—he secretly hoped that he would be the only one to have that privilege from then on.

Taglist | Form

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @pychedelic-star @nova646 @theflightytemptressadventure @wantingtobekorra @computeringturtle @slayerette26 @kesskirata @greatcircle79 @boxdyeblonde @fangirl-316 @niiight-dreamerrrr @tanzthompson @theamuz @gallowsjoker @helmet-comes-off @jesfreedark @amyk-37 @altarsw @feminist-violinist @spideysimpossiblegirl @lazybeeches @shameless-h @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @mamacitapascal @the-ginger-hedge-witch @disgruntledspacedad @asta-lily @aesnawan @frannyzooey @gaiuswrites @beskarboobs @honestly-shite @sherala007 @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @missminkylove @pedros-mustache @headinthestarz @leannawithacapitala @sharkbait77 @radiowallet @danidrabbles @magpie-to-the-morning @mandocrasis @juletheghoul @javierpinme @voteforpedro09 @theorganasolo @aprilqueen84 @Prostitute-robot-from-the-future @wanderlustmags @darnitdraco @castleamc @outlawedmando @lawfulgranola @jaime1110 @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @taticalsparkles @chasingdreamer @beautyagegoodnesssize @pintsizemama @recklessworry @tarolovesyoo @xgoldenjenny @prideandpascal @amneris21 @mylovelycomandante @ohhersheybars @heartsofbeskar

A few who might be interested! @thepoisonofgod @absurdthirst @highsviolets @astroboots

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #boxer!din #the mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars smut #star wars fic #star wars fanfic

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lily-drake · 3 years ago

Text

De-Aged

Jason: holy shit- she's so tiny!

Dick: *agitated* Jason, focus, what do we do??

Jason: *coos at the baby Marinette* I haven't seen her this small in forever.

Dick: we need- Jason! Focus! what do we do???

Jason: *shrugs* wait it out? I don't know.

Inspired by @bambicambi

Annoyance coursed through Marinette’s veins as she saw the new Akuma of the day. Of course it happened when her family came to visit. Looking up to the sky and praying for strength she turned her back to the chaos, something she would soon regret. Her brothers were asking her what the heck was going on, and as she opened her mouth a baby pink ray of light hit her, and Marinette poofed and in her place sat 4-year-old Marinette Wayne.

Jason and Dick stared at the small child on the ground in shock and after the moments were over Jason eagerly picked her up and spun her around.

“Holy sh*! She’s so tiny!”

Jason called out as he held the small giggling girl to his chest. Dick, was rightfully frustrated and walking in small circles and quickly said,

“Jason, focus, what do we do?”

Upon hearing Jason making cooing noises, he swiftly turned to look at Jason.

“I haven’t seen her this small in forever!”

He exclaimed, nuzzling his nose against the small Marinette.

“We need-Jason! Focus! What do we do?”

Jason shrugged as he held Marinette against his hip. She giggled and tugged at his jacket.

“Wait it out? I don’t know.”

Dick opened her mouth, but stopped when Marinette began to speak.

“Jay-Jay! Ride! Ride!”

Jason’s grin grew and gently set her down while holding her hand. He squared down and carefully released her hand. He could not express the pure amount of joy he felt when she climbed onto his back and wrapped her tiny hands around his neck.

“Jason, have you just forgotten the weirdly dressed flying child that not only turned Marinette, but all of Paris into kids?!”

He…had forgotten. But can you blame him? Marinette was so tiny when she was a kid, and he hadn’t seen her like this in forever.

“Look, contact Zatanna while I keep her safe and distracted.”

Dick sighed in relief replying,

“Alri-wait a minute.”

Jason was already running with a giddily screaming Marinette.

“No fair, I want to cuddle my baby sister too!”

He sighed in frustration, and no he was not pouting. Quickly pulling out his communicator he dialed Zatanna.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I’m in Paris visiting some family, and this flying kid in really weird clothes is going around de-aging people. Could you come see what’s going on please?”

“Pardon, but what?”

“Yea, it sho-“

Dick quickly ran through the streets dodging beams that were now directed towards him. Why did stuff like this always happen when they traveled?

A few moments later a portal opened and he had never been more relieved to see Zatanna in his life. Zatanna looked around and looked at the villain. As she studied it and was about to jump in, a neon butterfly mask appeared over the child’s face and she realized what this was.

“I can’t do anything, sorry Dick.”

“What?! Why?!”

“This is ancient magic, probably the most ancient magic in the universe. There should be others…, see,”

She said pointing to a cat-like figure in the distance. Dick stared in confusion, what was happening?

While Dick was trying to figure everything out Jason was having the time of his life with Tiny Mari. He was especially thankful that when she was blasted that her clothes were transformed into a white t-shirt and overalls with lions stitched throughout them. He had taken so many pictures of them. We’re people running around everywhere scared, yes, yes they were. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying as much time as he could with his tiny sister like he used to.

“Jay-Jay! There’s a fairy in my pocket!”

“How is there a fairy in the Pixie’s pocket?”

He asked jokingly while swinging the hands back and forth!

“Lookin lookie! It’s a Ladybug fairy! She’s so pwetty.”

Marinette held Tikki in both of her hands and jumped up and down trying to get him to look. Jason chuckled and looked down at the toy. It was cute, he had never seen something like it before. Then it blinked, and flew out of Marinette’s hand, and oh gosh, IT CAN TALK?!

“Marinette, you need to help Chat Noir defeat the akuma?”

“Akuma matata!”

Marinette called out with a giggle. Jason would have laughed, if it weren’t for the flying bug thing talking to his sister, who was currently 4, telling her to help someone defeat the crazed villain.

“Woah! Are you insane?! Look at her?! How do you expect her to fight?!”

The thing looked conflicted before sighing and saying,

“Well, do you want to fight it? You just need to wear the earrings, I can run you through what you need to do!”

“No!”

Marinette screamed.

“I want to be like you and daddy! It’s my turn to help people!”

“Marinette, you're too young.”

Tears began to well up in the small child’s eyes.

“I-it’s no fair! You al-always say that! I want to help!”

She finished stamping her foot definitely with a sharp glare. Jason sighed in exhaustion and turned to the floating creature. He mumbles under his breath,

“Can’t believe I’m letting this happen.”

He knew by the way Marinette was gripping at her ears and the definence in her stance. He could easily take them by force, but he didn’t want to hurt her or make her angry and feel betrayed.

“Can you assure above all else that she will be completely and utterly safe. I will join as well in my hero suit to make absolutely sure.”

“Yes, she has a partner as well who will watch out for her.”

He sighed in relief at that, but there was a new and very heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t leave until this event was over. He listened to the fairy tell Marinette what she needed to do and almost smiled at the determined face she was making. Her cheeks were so chubby and-no, focus! He pulled out an extra domino mask he always carried with him and zipped up his leather jacket. When he turned around there was a burst of pink light and where Tiny Mari once stood stood his sister in the cutest outfit he had ever seen! It was similar to his old Robin outfit, but closer to Tim’s as she thankfully felt that there needed to be pants. She had small wings on her back with a black cape with red bottom edges that shielded them from view. And in her hands was a tiny yo-yo. Before anything else could happen, he quickly pulled out his phone and took pictures. He wanted to show this to Bruce and brag, sue him.

Soon after that they both left to the rooftops. He was honestly surprised by how easily she maneuvered around the roofs and how easily her yo-yo grappled and released from things. They soon landed next to a Cat Woman knock-off who turned to look at them in surprise and exhaustion. When Marinette saw him she quickly turned to him and tugged on his sleeve. Jason crouched down and Mini-bug leaned close to his ear and whispered,

“Does Selie have a son?”

Jason snickered and glanced up at the kid. He seemed to have heard them if the ears twitching and confused look said anything.

“No Pix. He was just inspired.”

“Oh, okie-dokie!”

“So, I’m assuming you two know each other and she was hit out of suit?”

“Yep, basically.”

“Right. Well, we just need to break the wand, but I can’t get close.”

“Little Lady, cast your charm.”

Mini-bug puffed up her cheeks making her old —and most adorable— thinking face before yelling out while throwing the yo-yo into the air,

“Lucky Charm!”

“A red and black spotted rubber bullet dropped into Mini's awaiting palms. Jason promptly took the bullet and loaded it into his gun, it was the perfect fit. The hideously dressed child flew over to them and flourished her wand creating the opening Jason needed. With one quick shot the bullet flew through the air and hit the wand causing it to snap. A black and purple butterfly began to fly out and mini quickly caught it. She quickly released it bouncing on her heels in pure joy as a wide smile grew onto her face.

“Told ya I coul’ do it!”

“Yes you did, good job Pix.”

Chat Noir, who they hadn’t noticed disappeared, came back with the bullet and handed it to the small girl. She threw the bullet into the air jumping up as well and yelled out,

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Millions of Ladybugs flew through the air repairing damages and Turing people back to normal ending with Ladybug herself. Ladybug looked around confusedly and saw Chat on her right and Red Hood on her left. Memories of the past hour flashed through her mind and she promptly hid her face in her hands and a deep blush bloomed across her face.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“I don’t know Bug, was it?”

Jason asked with a crap eating grin.

“Yes.”

Came her mumbled response. Jason laughed and ruffled her hair, Marinette was too miserable to care.

“We should go make sure golden boy isn’t panicking too much, don’t ya think?”

Marinette sighed tiredly and nodded, I guess so.

“Sorry Chat, I promise I’ll explain later. Bug out.”

And as quickly as she could she swung away with Red Hood laughing and not too far behind.

“B is going to hate that he missed this.”

He called through the air causing a loud groan to escape her lips.

“Don’t show him!”

“Too late Pix, already sent them all to the group chat.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you to Babybug.”

Marinette groaned again and Jason laughed all the way to where they found Dick and Zatanna talking in an alleyway.

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @aurcad123

#maribat #BDBWM2021 #bio!dad bruce wayne #marinette wayne #marinette dupain cheng #sibling au #sibling daminette #sibling jasonette #shenanigans #fluff #day 14 #cute #de-aged #mlb x batman #dc x mlb #mlb x dc

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zellerysworld · 4 years ago

Text

『 Comfort 』

Sukuna x F!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: Fluff???, Established Relationship, Angst, Mentions of death, self hate, and abuse, slightly insane reader, slightly soft Sukuna

A/N: Readers abilities are touching people to make them sleep, transfer memories, and see past (for those with DID, talk to the souls within the persons mind). She serves as a informant by going inside victims heads to look in their pasts for curses that were around them; informing her teammates of location and grade level. She can also gain powers from whomever she touches for a short period of time.

Ex: Sukuna can give Malevolent Shrine to her for battle, but after one use/within five minutes, it vanishes. If she uses powers that are harsh on her body, (domain expansions or strong cursed manipulation) she faints/gets nose bleeds.

Your feet dragged against the brutally cold floors of the first-year dormitories at Jujutsu Tech. Everything around you was dark, dim light being provided by the full moons reflection through the windows. The corridor felt like a never-ending strip as you silently sobbed under your h/c locks.

Today was… hard. Usually, you can handle the painful endeavors of reaching into the depths of stranger’s minds, but today was different. Todays victim was a young boy, not even a teen, who was abused by his own parents. When you grazed his swollen cheeks as he lied motionless on the floor, the fear he felt as his mother raised a hand to him engulfed your body. Then and there on the scene, you began to cry uncontrollably.

Doing the same thing every day, seeing the same pain in people’s memories, reliving all of their fears within seconds- it was beginning to rip your soul apart piece by piece. At first, it was manageable. However, over the past year of being at this damned jujutsu school, all you seem to feel is excruciating aches in both body and soul.

Recalling the child’s memories, you fell against the wall of the corridor while burying your tearstained face into the same shaking, gloved hands that touched him. Gojo Satoru picked you to be a student because of your “Stability”, yet you were turning into the opposite. The way you viewed death and the nature of It was what impressed Gojo and everyone around you the most, though you have never seen yourself as impressive. All you do is touch people and relay information, nothing too complicated, right?

A door creaked open after your fall emitted a loud thud in the room behind you. When you lifted your head to apologize, you noticed it was none other than Yuji Itadori- Sukuna’s vessel in other words. The young sorcerers’ eyes widened at seeing you in such a distraught state, hastily running over to you. Yuji scanned your body for wounds but was only able to find a pair of empty eyes. “Y/n? Are you alright? C’mon, lets get you to your room.” He scooped you into his arms, carrying you as a mother does with her sleeping child.

Yuji opened the door, gently placing you onto the silk sheets of the rooms bed as you silently cursed yourself for being so weak. The expression you bared made him pained, so he attempted to make you comfortable by taking your shoes off. After doing so, he sat to side of the bed. He held your shielded hand into his bare ones before recommending, “How about talking to Sukuna?”

Your voided eyes closed as you slouched into the headboard. Sukuna would be disappointed to see you in such a state, him possibly refusing to secretly work with you anymore if he saw this mess. Or even worse, he’d stop loving you. From that thought, your mind continued to spiral.

While stuck in your self-pity, Yuji was removing a glove from your hand. “Gojo makes you talk to Sukuna for information, but I know you enjoy talking to each other. He thinks about you a lot.”

Hearing Yuji’s words made your eyelids flash open like lightning as he removed the glove completely. Gojo assigned you to become an informant for him by touching Yuji to go into Sukuna’s domain, however that plan backfired. Overtime, you began to tell Gojo you couldn’t get anything from him, while secretly falling for and scheming with Sukuna. There was a pact made between the two of you: In exchange for touching Yuji to temporarily gain sukuna’s abilities, you must kill with those powers.

You grew to hate violence over the years; having seen multiple forms of it through people’s memories. But you made an exception, being that violence should be used against those who use violence with malicious intent. Although it is a bit of a hypocritical way to think.

When going out with Yuji and others, you take advantage of the surroundings by stalking your next prey. You do this by “accidentally” bumping into people on the streets and reading their memories to search for any abusers, cheaters, or murderers. Although you were technically a killer too, you knew one day you’d have to pay for your sins. Lately, that day seems to be snaking its way closer to you.

“Y/n?” Yuji questioned with a slight tilt of his head; his voice snapping you from your train of thought. Raising the hand he ungloved, the fingertip of your index finger tapped against his forehead. With the tap, his body relaxed before falling into a deep state of sleep. His head fell onto your lap, giving a perfect opening to use your ability. You took the smooth palm of your bare hand, and cupped Yuji’s jawline. This was how you opened communication into someone’s memories, or in this case, into someone’s personalities.

Although you were nervous to see what sukuna would think of you in such a ruined state, Yuji’s words made you feel relaxed. Sukuna was your partner after all, he should be able to see you like this. But then again, he was the king of curses, not just some human guy you picked up on a dating website. In the end though, your want of Sukuna’s comfort overlaps your fear.

Your eyelids shut, then reopened in a different place. It was still nighttime at this location, but it was not the physical world that humans are used to- even if it felt like it was. A vast plateau of flowers swayed in the man-made dream you were in. Constellations of multiple forms helped the moon light up the colorful night sky. The cool air caused you to slightly shiver as it brushed through the grass.

“Why did you bring me here, brat? I was sleepin’ on my throne.”

Sukuna’s rugged voice didn’t seem to faze you as you gazed upwards to the moon. Instead, it oddly comforted you. Although most are terrified of his presence alone, it did not budge your already cracking mind in any shape or form. It slightly annoyed Sukuna that he couldn’t scare you, but it felt comfort in knowing that there is at least one person in this world who doesn’t flinch at the sound of his name.

When you didn’t respond to his question, he lifted a brow in confusion. The robed man slowly stepped through the tall grass, his hands staying in his pockets of course. “Hey,” he started as his warm palm gripped your right shoulder, “Answer me.” His tone became serious, but if you squint, you can see the worry in it. The sound of your silence was so damn loud.

Sukuna jerked your shoulder, revealing your heartbroken expression to his red pupils. You leaned your head downwards, feeling embarrassed that he had to see you like this, but who else could you have gone to? “Yu-Yuji told me y-ou,” you hickuped while trying to speek, trying to hold back your tears from him, “He t-told me you… think about me.” Your tears looked like melting diamonds as they fell from under your locks and into the moonlight.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrKjywjo7Q

(For those that want to feel the moment.)

He didn’t know what to feel, nor what to do, until you muttered out, “I’m sorry…”

In that moment, you felt your knees go weak. Your legs gave out, making you fall into the grass. Sukuna quickly grabbed your waist, falling into the grass with you as your cushion. He nuzzled his tattooed face against your puffy cheeks while whispering, “Show me what happened.”

You lifted a hand, cupping his jawline to open communication into his nervous system. Through the line, you showed him the memories you saw and how they hurt you. Sukuna couldn’t have been less fazed, seeing as he is the king of curses and was a mass murderer. But when he saw the expression you made when ripping your hand away from the boy, his spirit felt like a nail went through the center of it.

He sighed, moving loose hairs from your forehead so he could have a full look at your bloodshot eyes. Your e/c orbs told him how drained you were beginning to feel from the mortal world. He cooed, “I wish I wasn’t trapped in this brat. I would destroy the entire world for you, Y/n… You wouldn’t have to deal with any shitty pains like this.”

Sukuna hated everyone, except you. As the saying goes, Heroes would sacrifice you for the world, while villains would sacrifice the world for you. He enjoys telling himself the lie of “Y/n got on my good side”, but Sukuna always knew the truth of why he couldn’t help but care for you so much: You changed him. Out of billions of people just on this planet alone, you were the one to take his heart, mind, and philosophy and then mold it.

Killing was killing to Sukuna, and that’s all there was to it. But he found his goals shifting when he meant you. The insanity that filled your eyes as you’d hold a fresh blade against the neck of your enemies. Human or curse, it didn’t matter to you. Bad was bad, good was good; things were black and white to you as they were to him, but in a different manner. Your bravery was another factor to his care for you. The fact that you went unarmed into Yuji’s mind after he ate the finger just to get a view of Sukuna’s throne without any care for consequences was such a curious thing to him.

You both saw things the same way, yet not. The complexity of your careless philosophy was something to applaud in his eyes. But as you lay in your despair, Sukuna is grimly reminded you are still a human that must endure the torture that is a fleeting life. He wanted you to be a curse like him, enjoying the comfort of eternity in a paradise he could build for just the two of you.

But in the end, you were just a human. And although it sounds like something he is absolutely disgusted by, it’s not. If anything, the fact you are just a human girl catches him off guard even more. A human girl managed to move a god’s heart. A human girl somehow has the power to see people’s pain and was never moved until many years later. Sukuna didn’t know if he should have been happy or terrified to find someone like you.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of your silent sobs, making him close his eyes in uneasiness. It took him a few minutes, but he soon realized what he could do to relieve your pains. He saw what you saw and felt what you felt, therefore he knew just how helpless and weak you were feeling. To him, you werent weak at all, and he needs you to see that.

“Y/n.”

Your crystalized eyes looked to his blood-colored ones.

“Let me show you what I see.” His voice was soft, yet still had a rugged tone to it.

He pulled you upwards, making you sit up across from him while waving grass continued to surround the two of you. Leaning into you, his forehead leaned on yours as you snaked a hand across his palm, entangling your wrist with his fingers. The hand you were snaking tightly gripped at your forearm before you gripped onto his. Using this technique is a more intimate way of opening a line of communication. Both of your eyes closed to open it completely.

In Sukuna’s memories, you view things how he views them and see things through his mindset. It felt like a wave of ease flow throughout your body as you became comforted in the way he sees you. Most of the moments you saw were when you would smile, fight, or annoy Sukuna in general. Which, by the way, you were the only person who could ever taunt Sukuna and live to see the sun rise.

When your eyes fluttered open, he felt your lashes against his skin. This prompted him to open his eyes as well, and he found a pleasant surprise upon opening them. “What?” You questioned with a hint of sass, feeling your tears dry as your aching mind became soothed. Sukuna smirked, enjoying seeing a temporary tint of red over your normally e/c orbs.

Usually, your eyes don’t change colors after a connection, so it struck him as pleasant while it lasted, “Nothing, you are just a giant ass baby.”

“Oh shut the fuck up. You are the same person who got mad and came out when I ate a croissant that was meant for yuji!”

“I can taste whatever this brat eats, you realize that right? Those butter ones are tasty…”

Your eyes reverted back to their normal state as you bickered with your partner in the moonlight lit field. While back in the physical world, Yuji was snoring away on your bed in a very unflattering position. Although you don’t get to see Sukuna in the physical world, you still find comfort in feeling his soul In the spiritual world.

⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈

My request are open. <3

Edit: on my god thank you guys to much. ❤️❤️ I’m getting so many requests! I’ll start working on them when I get home from work today. They will be posted within 2-3 days because these requests are actually pretty good ones that are really long 😂. But my requests are still open so don’t be afraid to submit something!

#anime #jjk sukuna ryomen #jjk ryomen sukuna #jjk #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #Sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #yuji #yuji itadori #fanficton #romance

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concussed-to-pieces · 2 years ago

Text

The Chance And The Change; Part Five

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Pairing: (Eventual) Villain!Mirio/AFAB Shie Hassaikai!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our next installment! Enjoy!

Tag List: @hijackser @nonstop-haikyuu @zombiexbody @buttons-beads-lace @moonchhu @swift-omg-no @ectoplasmictoast @tartimaar-bloggeth

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse, canon-typical violence and discussion and use of medication/drugs (pills). Stay safe!]

"They're unconscious, but at least they're alive." Togata settled gingerly back on his haunches after checking over your head wound, wiping his palms on his thighs. "They took a bullet for me."

What an insane turn of events. You, protecting him! The fact that your Quirk was gone hadn't really sunk in for him yet. Mirio was exclusively running on adrenaline and the remnants of the energy bar he had for breakfast that morning, and his brain could only deal with so much guilt before it started pushing things aside for later, later.

Deku looked fresh as a daisy despite having come onto the scene via a shortcut made by extreme remodeling, to say nothing of his pitched conflict with Chisaki. And what a conflict! Deku clearly had some kind of crazy-strong Quirk. Incredibly late bloomer?

Another mystery for later.

The green-haired young man cradled Eri's unconscious body in his arms, the tattered red fabric of Mirio's cape wrapped around her small frame. "You guys aren't actually villains, are you?" Deku asked evenly. "Not like the rest of the Hassaikai."

Mirio shook his head. "No, we definitely aren't." Well, so much for my dream. This guy is probably going to throw the whole book at me. "We just…I guess we got tangled up in something a little too big to handle." The blond admitted.

Deku abruptly queried, "d-does your friend wear clothes under their Hassaikai gear?" When Mirio shot him a glare, he took stock of the redness that darkened the other man's cheeks. "I-I mean! I mean, i-if you can get them out of that incriminating stuff--well, the authorities will probably think they're just a civilian. A-And if you come quietly, maybe the police would be willing to…uh, you know, excuse some of your…" Deku appeared to be struggling with his words, rationalizing at a rapid pace. "...stuff."

"Listen, if I unzip this and they're not wearing anything–"

"Oh! No, absolutely not, you're right." Deku exclaimed frantically. "I'm sorry, I didn't even-I-I wear my boxers and an undershirt, so I always assume-"

Mirio snorted, more than a little amused by Deku's panic. He took the chance and began to pull down the zipper on the front of your uniform, heaving a mental sigh of relief when the white fabric of a tank top met his eyes. Granted, it was a bit stained from the wound on your shoulder blade, but it was something. "We may be in luck. Keep your fingers crossed."

Luck did indeed seem to be on his side. You were wearing some leggings as well! Mirio untied your boots so he could get the jumpsuit off, the fabric bunching up around your ankles and wrists before he managed to free you from it. Your utility belt clattered loudly on the floor, empty pill sheets crinkling when they were crushed by the weight of your uniform's fabric.

"Whoa, that's a lot of foils." Deku sounded concerned. "Are they sick?"

Togata sighed heavily. "Quirk enhancers."

Deku remained silent after that, but Mirio noted that he gingerly scooted the jumpsuit away with his foot.

Togata wasted no time lacing your boots back up and then settled down on the floor with a grunt. Lifting from the floor while on the floor had never been his strong suit, and he was (in a word) exhausted. Plus, the idea of moving you before having your head injury checked out by a professional struck him as not smart.

Deku's hand touched his shoulder, which was still tender even after the work you had done to reset the appendage. "So…you guys were trying to get Eri out? That day I ran into you, I mean."

"Yes and no." Mirio replied with a grimace, gingerly trying to arrange your body into a comfortable position without lolling your head around too much. "Eri had run off and we were doing our best to see if we could capitalize on the situation, but…well, you've seen Chisaki."

"Sir had said he was a bad guy, I guess I just didn't realize how bad." Deku gave the blond man an appraising look. "I guess you were sort of…working with us from the inside?"

"If you want to see it that way." Mirio acquiesced. "I'm not gonna' speak for my partner, of course, but I know we both wanted bigger and better things for ourselves. The Hassaikai were a last resort. And once I found out about Eri…sometimes it's easier to ignore ugly stuff happening around you, and sometimes it really, really isn't."

"I can understand that." Deku murmured.

"What are you going to tell the authorities?"

The green-haired man shrugged. "The truth."

Mirio felt his shoulders dip nearly in time with the sinking in his stomach, and he shifted his weight to one side so he could reach over to touch Eri's face. Her skin was feverish, still damp with tears and sweat. Whatever she had done, whatever her Quirk was, it clearly put an immense burden on her young body.

"You're gonna' be fine." Mirio whispered, knowing full well that she couldn't hear him. "Deku and his friends are going to take really good care of you. They're good guys, after all! They're…you're going to be safe with them, I promise."

The afternoon sunlight pouring down through the gaping hole in the ceiling was almost blinding after having been in artificial lighting for so long. Mirio wished he hadn't lost his visor, the blond man squinting upwards when a few pebbles came clattering down. Deku did likewise, waving after a moment. "Uravity!" He called gladly, clearly having seen someone approaching.

It turned out to be a smaller woman clad in pink, the nauseous expression on her face vanishing once she got her feet on the ground. She had just…floated down into the hole, like a bubble.

Uraraka?

"Deku! You're okay! We all thought for sure you'd be in pieces!" The young woman scolded Deku, who had the decency to look embarrassed. "Taking Chisaki apart and then falling back down here! You're lucky I still have some energy. The rescue squad is on their way, you…" Uravity slowed to a halt as she seemed to take stock of the state Deku was in. "You…you look fine! How do you look fine?!"

"I don't really know." Deku admitted. "It's got something to do with Eri's Quirk."

The young woman then appeared to notice the bedraggled Mirio. She took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "Wait a second, I know you! You're Lemillion! Gunhead dealt with you before, you little-"

Togata nodded wearily, leaning on a chunk of rubble. "I'm coming peacefully, I promise. I'm kinda’ out of steam after all that." He knew his chuckle sounded forced, but he gave it his best. "You guys have Eri now, and that's enough for me."

"Wh…Deku, did you guys fight or something?" Uravity hissed in what she clearly believed was an undertone. "He doesn't look like he's doing great."

"No, he fought Chisaki. He was trying to rescue Eri too, from the inside." Deku explained in a stage whisper of his own. "They were fighting when I got here."

Mirio closed his eyes as the two heroes continued to talk, their words dissolving into a comforting buzz while he rested his cheek on his knee. Everything hurt. His last thought was one vaguely hoping that the police wouldn't make him walk too far.

…

You stared down at the paperwork, confused. All the words swam together in a jumbled mess, your weary eyes unable to comprehend what they were reading.

The officer across from you pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn't come up in any of our databases. You're free to go."

"O-Oh." You squeaked, snatching up the documents so you could read the headings closely.

Criminal Database: NEGATIVE

Fingerprint Database: NEGATIVE

Facial Recognition: POSITIVE–UNRELATED

DNA Database: NEGATIVE

Quirk Database: NO DATA RECORDED

That last entry had your mind reeling. You had been sure that you'd be carted off to a nice little cell for the rest of your life, or at least for a majority of it! You were incredulous at your good luck, loss of Quirk and all. Unless that was the reason you weren't coming up in the database? That fateful bullet that some poor surgeon had dug out of your shoulder…

"You're sure you don't remember how you ended up down there?" The officer pressed after you looked up again, his expression tired.

You shook your head. "I'm sorry sir, I really don't. I must have hit my head pretty hard when the ground gave way under me. Some kind of villain attack, right? That's what they said on the news."

He nodded grudgingly, getting to his feet and passing you a large manila envelope. "Be a bit more careful, alright? As you are well aware, the world is a dangerous place. The envelope is the usual documentation for an insurance claim, should you see fit to open one." And with that unceremonious closing statement, you were ushered out of the small office.

You walked aimlessly down the street, the envelope that hung limp from your fingers, promising even more things to consider.

Since you had woken up alone in the hospital, your life had been a chaotic rush of information. All you had managed to glean from your room's television and other patients was that there had been multiple arrests related to the villain attack. Chisaki was taken into custody by the police and subsequently attacked by the League members during transport, which resulted in the stark and brutal loss of his hands. You imagined the two individuals that the League had loaned Chisaki may have had something to do with the interception, but obviously you needed to keep that thought to yourself.

Shigaraki.

There was no way the order could have come down from anyone else. With the Hassaikai out of the way, well and truly out of the way, there wouldn't be much in the manner of opposition towards the League Of Villains.

Those loose cannons were running wild and here you were, wondering about something as normie as if you should be pursuing a claim with your insurance. Did you even have villain incident coverage? You couldn't recall which box you had ticked all those years ago.

You heaved a sigh. You would need to make an appointment first. Maybe they took walk-ins?

…

A week later you left the insurance office, shell-shocked once more.

Someone had authorized coverage amendments on your account, somehow back-dated by several months and paid in full only a few days ago. They had changed your coverage to a higher-tier option and, with the confirmation of documentation from the police, it seemed that you were set to receive a decent payout.

Enough for you to cover the medical care you had needed for your shoulder and secure a month of housing, at any rate. You had yet to nail down a job, but there were always openings. If you could find an apartment and get a regular job, you might actually have some stability in your life. For once.

For once!

No more worrying about your Quirk, no more illicit jobs, no more chalky aftertaste from amplifiers. Just a normal, regular life of paystubs and clocking in and out.

Despite all this good fortune, you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kept waiting for something to go wrong. Months crept by while you waited, anxious, nervous, always looking over your shoulder for an echo of the Hassaikai or the police. Yet…nothing. Nothing encroached on your new life of peace, nothing threatened you in your cheap-but-clean studio apartment. Your shoulder healed up relatively well, all things considered. Your fingers still worked and you had full range of motion, which was more than you had expected. It being a little achy when the weather changed was an easy burden to bear. Your neighbors could be loud sometimes and your new job didn't pay very much, but these mundane issues were almost a welcome change after everything you had been through.

What was harder to shake was the cold sweats, the tremors and the habitual, almost instinctual desire to pop medication every time something hurt. Instead you forced yourself, hands twitching and body awash with clammy perspiration, to stave off the urges, reasoning frantically that there was no point to it anymore. You had no Quirk to amplify, no gang members to patch up or little girls to save. You were ordinary now, free of those responsibilities.

Ordinary had never had such a bitter taste.

You had known for years that your Quirk was your crutch, amplified or not. It had been a safety net that allowed you to take risks others couldn't, and now that it was gone you found yourself at a loss. Where before you could have at least bartered your Quirk services in exchange for a meal, you would never have that option again. It had always been simple enough to find extra work, even if it was grisly. To have the choice entirely taken from you left you feeling as though you were twisting in the wind, swimming upstream and losing ground every second.

Through all of this hardship, fragile hope took root in your heart. A shabby, ragged little thing, but it still stubbornly grew. You almost dug it up more than once, ashamed of everything that had happened. These lapses of melancholy often went hand in hand with lean weeks, when you were left with too much time to think and not enough shifts at work. The guilt at your involvement in aiding the Hassaikai weighed especially heavy on your conscience, and that guilt kept you from enrolling in what outreach programs your community had to offer. So you endured alone in your tiny apartment, the days seeming to ebb by in a gray blur of not enough. Not enough food, not enough money for bills, and the hours marked by the constant ticking down of the time that was slipping away.

…

A rash of break-ins had occurred over the past few weeks, your own apartment building one of the many that were hit. The weight of helplessness in your chest was becoming more and more prevalent, threatening to choke you while you gave your report to the authorities.

After they left, you broke down into tears. You couldn't exactly tell the police that you were concerned one of your former comrades may be attempting to locate you in order to exact some sort of payback. The apartments that had been broken into hadn't had anything taken from them, which only served to confirm your admittedly far-fetched suspicions. You were clearly being stalked by a prior member of the Hassaikai, and your hard-won ordinary life was slipping through your fingers.

Your sleep schedule began to suffer, as every rattling pipe or squeaky hinge set you on edge. Not even the new, sturdier deadbolt that your landlord had installed on your door could ease your mind, because if they had already gotten past the first one while you were at work…

Every night you would lay awake for hours, wondering if it was Rappa or Toya or even Deidoro lurking on the fire escape, hiding in your closet and underneath your bed. You could only hope you wouldn't wake up to Soramitsu gnawing on your kneecaps. Granted, you only had one closet and you didn't even have a frame for your bed, just a futon on the floor, but your imagination disregarded such frivolous details once you turned in for the evening.

However, out of all the people that could have returned from your past, the one who did come back was…unexpected.

Part Six

#mirio togata #lemillion #slow burn #eventual romance #villain au #villain!lemillion #villain!mirio #villain!au #mha au #mha fandom #bnha au #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #mirio x reader #mirio imagine #canon typical violence #shie hassaikai arc

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opossumanonymous · 3 years ago

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How did things get so messed up?

Warnings: Talk of murder, a single swear, Inko just sometimes thinks about murder, uh vigilante Izuku

Black Widow Inko! Part 2 featuring Dad Might vs Dad for One! This is honestly just Crack with a plot...

******************************************************

It seemed like yesterday he was in that hospital room meeting his son for the first time. Inko holding their sons tiny body, tears welling in her eyes as she beckoned him closer.

He walked over with no hesitation fully ready to meet Izuku (The name chosen by Inko who got to pick after winning a bet).

Sitting down next to his tired wife he stared down at the infant in wonder. The tiny human they'd waited 9 months for was finally here. Hizashi almost didn't know how to act for a second, so caught up in looking at the tufts of green hair and freckles covering small cheeks.

Reaching out Hizashi gently caressed Izuku's little face with a single finger causing the baby to let out a coo. He grabbed his father's finger in his little fist nearly bringing the 200 year old man to tears.

If asked that's how that day went to Hizashi of course Inko remembers him nearly flooding the hospital room but Hizashi would never admit that.

Tears or not that day Hizashi knew he would protect them with his life so how....how did things get so messed up?!

How did he end up sitting across from his arch nemesis?!

How did Izuku out of everyone in Japan end up with one for all?!

And most importantly how did All Might end up seducing his goddess Inko?!?!

Seriously Hizashi just couldn't understand how she could be with such a lowlife, she must not know who he is.

Never before had Hizashi felt such a deep burning hatred for anyone.

Currently he was sitting on the couch in his and Inko's apartment while she and All Might sat on the adjacent couch. No one spoke until Inko finally cleared her throat.

"Toshi this is my ex hus-"

"Current Husband."

She looked at him with eyes full of fire and a voice full of venom as she spoke. "You forfeited that title the second you thought not calling for 12 years was a good idea."

"...."

She always knew what to say to shut him up especially when she was angry. One of the things that interested him in Inko at first was how unlike most she got incredibly smart when angry.

She also got more sadistic, he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she calculated all the ways she could kill him.

In this house he was not the devil no, the cute green haired woman sitting across from him was. In fact the murderous aura around her was very concerning, not that he feared for his life with witnesses around. He knew she'd be angry but he'd hoped him getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness would work like last time.

Meanwhile Toshinori was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. At first when he walked into the apartment after a date night he was shocked to find none other than All for One standing in his living room. He quickly pushed Inko behind him ready to defend her against Japan's greatest villain.

While he no longer held one for all that wouldn't stop him from protecting his wife with all he had. How did All for One break out of tartarus anyway?

And just how did he look like this?

All for one looked the way he did before their battle where he smashed his upper face in. All for one, who last they spoke had no eyes, hair and barely a nose now had all of that back and even looked a few years younger.

Each and every person in this room was plotting how to kill someone. Thankfully this day they'd all walk away unscathed.

Mainly because they all had a secret to hide from eachother.

Inko didn't want Toshinori to know about her past, Toshinori didn't want Inko to know who her ex was, and Hizashi didn't want to anger his wife further by revealing any of her secrets. (He may have been criminally insane but he wasn't stupid)

After all one does not rat out their ex-assassin wife's past to her new husband who is also the ex-symbol of peace. Lest they both team up, beat your ass and throw you back in prison or just straight up murder you.

"Anyway Toshi this is my ex husband Hizashi, Izukus father, he left about 12 years ago with no contact or information."

"Oh come now darling those divorce papers weren't serious. I understand you're mad but I'm back and I promise nothing will keep me away this time."

The utter nerve of this guy he really wants to die today! He's lucky he stopped wearing ties years ago or else Inko would've been choked him to death!

"Tea. I'm going to go make some tea I'll be back soon." She said with a strained smile resisting the urge to rip out Hizashi's teeth.

After she left to the kitchen the atmosphere got even darker the two mortal enemies now left alone.

"So it wasn't enough that you destroyed my face and took my son as your successor, you just had to go and seduce my wife too!"

"Your wife! Did you not just hear her she divorced you?!"

"Yeah all because of you and your meddling if you hadn't destroyed my face putting me in comatose I would've been there for her and Izuku!"

All Might paused for a second realization hitting him like cold bucket of water. Before he got his composer back not wanting the enemy to get the upper hand.

"If you hadn't have been quirk smuggling and stealing classified documents I wouldn't have had to!"

"Oh so it's all entirely my fault?!" Hizashi scoffed "I bet she doesn't even know what you did to me does she?"

Toshinori stayed silent it was true she may have known who he was but she didn't know about his hand in her ex husband's absence.

He had no idea how lucky he was she didn't know or there would be two dead men walking instead of one.

"I take your silence as a yes then?" Hizashi was a little smug now.

"Not like you've told her who you really are." Hizashi frowned at this causing Toshinori to smile "I see I'm right as well."

Well he was only half right he never out right told Inko she figured it out on her own. But All Might didn't need to know that, after all no use making Inko even more upset then she already was.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Inko was trying to figure out how to shoot her ex from the kitchen without Toshinori noticing.

While she knew it was impossible without blowing her secret a woman could dream.

As the tea finally came to a boil she noted the distinct sound of her sons bedroom window opening and closing. Knowing her son was back from his nightly vigilantism only done on weekend nights per their agreement. She briefly considered pouring rat poison in Hizashi's serving but decided against it.

Not that the good for nothing scumbag didn't deserve it. But just scaring him would do for now unless Izuku didn't want him in his life. After all he was Izuku's father and Izuku deserved to choose whether he wanted him in his life or not.

Bringing back a tray with the tea she sat the cups down with an eerie look on her face. "Here you go Hizashi I made yours just how you like it!~" She said sweetly.

Yeah Hizashi isn't drinking that, no way she definitely must have done something to it. He hasn't survived the past 200 years to die like that, thankfully his lovely queen isn't good at holding her emotions in.

"Thankyou darling you're too kind." He said taking a cup but not drinking from it.

Toshinori on the other hand called her buff he knew she wouldn't do anything. As he drunk his own cup he remarked on how good it was, well atleast he didn't have to worry about no real or imaginary poison.

Toshinori really didn't know what to do he was having a mental crisis. Should he tell Inko and young Midoriya the truth about All for one or not say anything? The boy would be devastated and would he really want to fight his own father when the time came? He would never forgive himself if it caused Izuku mental pain.

But if he turned Hizashi in to the hero commission they wouldn't know it was him. But he'd still have to deal with them being distraught and possibly hating him for not telling them sooner. Plus everything might become public and there's no telling how many enemies All for one has made that would be out for blood.

This was bad, both his morals and heart clashed at the thought of hurting Izuku and Inko they both quickly became the family he never got to have.

Izuku even started calling him dad for crying out loud! What would he call him if he found out his idol and mentor was the one who separated him from his biological father?!

"We need to settle this once and for all." Inko finally said still annoyed and just wanting Hizashi out.

"Yes you're right we should Inko darling. I won't make this hard, I promise I only want to see my son. Perhaps he can sleepover at my place on the weekends?"

Toshinori paled at that, if he got young Midoriya alone there's no telling what that monster would do to the boy. He could kidnap him, take one for all, and lock him away forever. Toshinori couldn't let that happen deciding he'd rather tell both Inko and Izuku who 'Hizashi' really was.

"Yeah no I don't think so you can have supervised visits and you can take him somewhere if I'm available to go with."

Yeah Inko wasn't buying what her ex was selling she knew he'd have Izuku quirkless and vaulted if she left them alone.

Not to mention that would force her to try rescuing him leading to her being vaulted as well.

But together they could defeat him after all he couldn't fight them both at once.

Hizashi was about to open his mouth when all of a sudden a voice called from the hall.

"Dad?"

"Yes son?" Both men said in unison before looking at eachother with a glare.

Izuku just stood there frozen in shock as his step dad and biological father glared at eachother. He couldn't believe his eyes, even though he heard his father's voice he just thought his mom finally got him on the phone. But this is unreal he never thought in his wildest dreams his father would be in front of him again.

He gripped his plan shirt that had "shirt" written on it in big white letters. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest at any moment, a million questions going through his mind.

He was so deep in thought he didn't hear his mom get up from the couch and approach him till he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie are you okay?" His mom asked him worried.

The two men stopped glaring at eachother now focused on Izuku concerned for him.

Tears came to the greenettes eyes as his voice shook with joy. "Dad!"

Hizashi was then tackled by the boy, slight bits of green lighting appearing on him showing his small use of one for all. Despite Izukus small stature compared to his father's hulking one, Hizashi nearly doubled over feeling like he was punched.

His son was a strong boy, he lamented the years lost since his little green bean was no longer little.

Wrapping his arms around his son Japan's evilest villain patted Izukus head. Causing the ex-symbol of peace to go into a coughing fit, a waterfall of blood pouring from his mouth.

"Dad are you okay?!"

Pushing away from Hizashi Izuku went to check on Toshinori as Inko offered up a handkerchief. Taking it in gratitude Toshinori thanked his wife before reassuring Izuku he was okay. "Thankyou son I'm alright no need to worry." Giving his signature grin he ignored his enemies death glare.

All for One the demon emperor would never admit he's jealous of anyone especially his arch-nemesis. But seeing his son coddle that blonde theif made his blood boil.

"Well this will be a new experience I never thought you'd call someone else dad..." Hizashi said with a strained smile his mouth lighting up with fire for a second.

He could always burn the blonde homewreaker with his fire breath good thing that was the quirk he with.

"Oh I guess it will get really confusing calling you both dad. But what other alternative names for you both? Or I could just call one dad and the other something else...maybe papa could work?" Izuku muttered suddenly, scratching the back of his head.

Both men looked at eachother realizing this could be the deciding factor. They knew that whoever got papa would win, after all it was the cuter of the two choices.

"Alright it's decided then!" Izuku claped his hands together a wide grin growing on his face. Both men sitting in anticipation at the boys verdict. The two looking like they were on a high stakes game show as sweat trickled down their foreheads.

"I'll call you dad" Izuku pointed at Hizashi "and I'll call you papa!" He then pointed to Toshinori.

Toshinori felt like he could do a cheer, his crops were watered, his stomach was back, his scares gone, everything in the universe was right.

That was until he looked over at All for One who he was sure would definitely kill him now if he wasn't going to before. His aura now darker than before as Toshinori's own aura glowed bright with happiness knowing he was the superior father figure in Izukus life.

Meanwhile Izuku ever oblivious to his father's fued just gave his mom his best smile feeling happier to have them in his life. After all they were his family and he wouldn't change that for nothing in the world.

******************************************************

Sometime later

Yoichi: Leave brother we will not leave this host!

AFO: Oh I don't want your quirk little brother, no not anymore.

Yoichi: Then why are you here what else could you possibly want?!

AFO: WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE YOUR GOLDEN BOY LEAVE MY WIFE AND SON ALONE! HE'S RUINING EVERYTHING!

Yoichi: I see so that's what this is about...yeah no this is what you get. Consider this karma goodbye brother.

AFO: OH NO DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME TELL ALL MI-

Yoichi: *disconnects AFO from Izukus conscious*

AFO: *Sitting in Izukus room while his son sleeps* I can't believe it he hung up on me.

******************************************************

AFO: I'll have you know I did alot of good things I'm not a good for nothing scumbag!

Inko: Oh really name one good deed you've done since we got married.

AFO:............Well umm..... Oh! I had Izuku our son!

Inko: Hehe yeah no I had Izuku you just stood there and cried in the corner for 11 hours.

AFO: WELL YOU TRY BEING SUPPORTIVE WHEN YOUR WIFE CALLS YOU A- Wait no actually I adopted a stray child off the streets! That definitely counts as one good deed!

Inko: WHAT!?

AFO: *realizing how bad he messed up* You what happened was....

#bnha dad for one #dad for one #inko midoriya #inko midoriya is a black widow #vigilante deku #dad might #inko midoriya just being a good mom #hizashi midoriya is all for one #battle of the dads

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Yoooo could we get a cont to the BTHB with the burns. I can’t remember what it’s called but like the one where the building explodes with Villain saving a child. Yes that one. Please and thank you! (No worries if you don’t wanna)

Scathed Skin Part 2

Part 1

@epiclamer you sent this in as a submission, but given the wording I took it as an ask.

Warnings: broken bones, starvation mention, dehydration mention, gorey imagery (minor), exhausted rescue team, brief hospital scene, PTSD/trauma mention, fever

*not edited, sorry*

"The infrared is picking up heat signals about five feet below us," one of the rescuers said, running his rod over a collapsed piece of plaster.

"Or is it a furnace room?" Another asked, carefully stepping over to her crewmate.

"Nah, the motion sensors are going haywire. We have life," a third said. "We need the heroes."

"Calling them in."

The team of three waited patiently, preparing vital supplies and making sure a helicopter was ready and good to go. Finally, after a good fifteen minutes, a small team of heroes showed up. Their faces were taut with weariness and exhaustion. Black eye bags rested underneath red, teary eyes. Hair was tousled, faces dirty. In all honesty, they looked worse than many of the victims previously rescued.

"How far in?" A female asked, tanned skinned with cyan colored eyes. She had an authoritative air about her, even amongst her obvious fatigue.

"Scans are estimating about five feet, but there are heavy materials over them," the rescuer with infrared reported. "They aren't very stable either, so we need to be careful."

The hero sighed, rubbing her face until her auburn eyebrows crunched together. "Okay," she whispered. "We need to carefully lift the materials one at a time. Ready?"

The team nodded solemnly and got to work- clearing and carrying wooden beams, large pieces of plaster and even some concrete foundation. By the end of it, they were throughly exhausted. Some to the point of heavily panting as they leaned against various items.

"Okay," Hero said, brushing back her red hair into a ponytail. She walked to the hole they had just made and called to see if someone- anyone- was conscious enough to answer.

"Hello?!" Hero asked a second time, nervous pricking at the hairs of her arms.

"Help! We need help!" Came a small, squealy voice.

"Okay!" Hero yelled down, relief flooding over her. "How many are down there?"

"Two. Me and this man, but he won't wake up," the voice came again. Hero realized that it was one of a child's.

Hero turned to her team and nodded. They came back with a harness and carefully wrapped it around Hero's body. Then, she lowered herself into the musky hole, flashlight in hand.

A child, young, maybe ten, sitting on the ground in front of what seemed to be a cereal box. She stared at Hero with large eyes, but she didn't seem to be hurt.

"Hey kid, I'm Hero." The hero crawled over to the girl who ran into her arms. Hero wrapped her in an embrace.

"We are going to take care of you now, okay? It's all gonna be alright," Hero cooed, adjusting the child.

But the girl didn't respond. She just glanced over to a unmoving figure. Hero looked too, bile rising in her throat at the sight of a very mauled body. Instinct told her to assist the other person first, but she knew that the girl had to get out.

"Ready?" Hero asked. The child nodded and the pair went up.

Before Hero went back down to save the other victim, she heard a sigh of relief amongst her team as the paramedics declared,

"She'll be fine. Just malnourished and needs rest. Send her to the nearest hospital."

Hero smiled and dipped back into the hole.

Cautiously, she walked over to the limp body and knelt down. His back had glass and small stones implanted in a scarlet design of opened flesh. She grimaced, noting the obvious signs of infection- the acrid smell, the white abscesses.

His lower body was twisted in an unnatural fashion. His legs- obviously broken- were ruthlessly pinned down by a huge wooden beam. Hero took the man's head. He had a nasty gash on his temple with dried blood caked to the already dirty skin.

But that wasn't her worry. The man was insanely warm- heat radiating off his face in large waves- and his cheeks so hollow that he looked as if he was starving for a few days.

And, he was. Two and a half days without food or water.

And with the raging fever... he was in bad, bad shape.

"Hey," Hero tapped the man's cheeks. "Are you conscious? Can you wake up?"

The man groaned, eyes slowly opening. Hero nearly gasped and bolted away. Those eyes. Those forestry green, deep eyes were familiar. Tears welled up in Hero's eyes as she held his head tighter.

"H-hero," he breathed. Hardly any sound came out, but to Hero it sounded as if he was calling to her from a loudspeaker.

"Villain," Hero squeaked. She ran her fingers over his dirty face.

"Hero?! You good down there?!" Her teams urgently worried call sounded throughout the small hole they dug.

"Yeah, I need help! The man is trapped!" Hero replied. For a moment, she wondered why she didn't outrightly say Villain's name.

"How bad?"

"We need to lift a wooden beam!"

Villain leaned into Hero's touch, eyelids fluttering. She gently shook him. "Please," she said. "Stay awake for me. Okay?"

Villain glanced up her, eyes dull and glaze from fever, and weakly nodded. She smiled and ran her hand through his matted hair.

Her team appeared at her side a little after and gasped when they saw him.

"Is that..?"

"Yeah," Hero said and gestured towards the wooden beam strewn across his legs. "We need to lift that just a bit so I can get Villain out."

The heroes shared a short glance, unsure of what to do or how that would work, but they obeyed their boss and lifted the beam.

Hero quickly dragged Villain out from underneath. He screamed hoarsely then went limp in her grasp. The heroes who did the lifting leaned their heads against the beam, utterly spent from two- almost three- long days of work without a wink of sleep.

"We need to get him to a hospital ASAP," Hero said, supporting Villain's unconscious body tenderly, after her teammates recovered. They nodded and helped Villain up to safety.

《~~》

Hero paced in front of Villain's bed, waiting for him to wake up. She tried her hardest not to look at him.

They were able to save one leg, but the other... the other had to be amputated.

The doctors also said that there would likely be a considerable amount of PTSD and trauma related to this event. Saving a child and nearly dying like that, they said, wpuld definitely affect him not only physically, but mentally.

Hero sighed and sat dowm next to him, aimlessly rubbing his hand. He had a long road of recovery left...

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #multiple caretakers #hero x villain #feverish villain #feverish whumpee #hospital scene #heros and villains #dehydration #starvation #exhaustion #ptsd mention #trauma mention

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moregaythanyourealized · 3 years ago

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The Mayor

Final Part!

(Smut warning, the warning is that I’m bad at writing smut. Apologies in advance.)

When you exited the bathroom he was still on the couch, the small lights on his claws were white again. You walked over and stuck your hands out once more,

“What?” He asked.

“Aren’t you gonna tie me up?”

“Do you want me to?” That wasn’t the question you were expecting. Now that you had calmed down a bit more from today’s calamities you had some of your previous wit back,

“You might have to. I don’t know if I can trust myself around a man like you.” The words came out sexier than you expected and you were pretty proud of yourself. He stood up from the couch and let his eyes glance over your body. One of his claws slowly reached out from behind him and pushed you lightly into the hall. He asked you to lead him to your room. You two were barley through door when you felt his soft lips on your neck. You turned around a kissed him again. It was better than the first time. His hands were on your hips and his tongue grazed over yours. He tasted strange, not bad just not a taste you could identify. One of his hands lightly groped your breast and you sighed at the feeling. He pushed you onto the bed and just when you were about to reach up for him a claw held your hands over your head tightly,

“You’re really beautiful, even if you are a two faced bitch.” You whimpered as his commute of kisses traveled further down your body. His hands feeling every curve and divot. Ottos lips stopped above your panties and he looked up at you. His eyes deep and thoughtful. He spoke up breaking the tension,

“I’m asking if you want to do this.”

“Well, you kidnapped me so I just assumed we were doing this your way.”

“I may be a super villain but I’m not a monster y/n.” Had he always been this hot? Was he playing some sort of mind game on you? Did he have magic powers that made you want him? You nodded and he slowly dragged your underwear down and dropped it on the floor behind him. When he kissed the inside of your thighs heat rushed to your face (as well as other places) when he began leaving small bites on your thighs you moaned and reached for his hair, but of course you were stopped by your restraints. Not being able to touch him was driving you insane, why did you suggest this?!

“Could you imagine if the papers found out about this? You’d be out of office in record time.” One of his fingers dragged along your folds. Out of instinct you went to close your legs but found out they were restrained too. When did that happen? His mouth carefully kissed and sucked at your heat. His saliva adding to the already wet area. You whined a bit loving the feeling but wanting him to get on with the show,

“Use your words, dear. I doubt you’ve lost comprehension that easily.” He smirked and winked causing you to furrow your brow,

“Don’t be such a jerk.” He shrugged and went down again, this time adding his fingers to get a rise out of you. Breathing heavy and letting hushed moans fall from your mouth, he leaned up again and placed a chaste kiss on your lips,

“Beg me for it.” You didn’t want to, it was humiliating,

“P-please...please Otto! Fuck me” Oh well...there it is. Your mind and body were at war. You wanted to stay dignified and deny him the satisfaction but your body reeled at his touch and thirsted for more. He lubed himself up and pressed just the tip in at first. When he went all the way in you thought you were gonna scream, he was thick and stretched you perfectly. He started slow and admired the look on your face. How tears shined in your eyes and your lip quivered with every moan and whine. But when he hit you just right causing you to make a truly embarrassing noise it was as if he lost all control. Hammering into you he grunted and kissed your tears away,

“Fuck, you’re wonderful y/n.” He metal claws suddenly released your hands. Pulling him down further on you, trying to make sure you could feel every inch of his body you could reach. A heavy feeling in your abdomen made you tug his hair,

“Ahh, please. I-“ He cut you off with another sloppy kiss. His tongue not stopping to let you breathe. When you came you accidentally bit down on Ottos tongue. He drew back coming over his own release and looked at your perfect figure spread out before him. Panting, naked, and shaking. He left the room and came back cleaning the both of you up,

“This is the second time you’ve bit me. I’m starting to think you like it.” He settles in next to you pulling the sheets over both your shoulders. Once the feeling of pleasure and relaxation wore off your mind went right back to work...or it tried to. The comforting touch of Otto by your side kept distracting you from the world. The Avengers would probably take care of things. You would either go back to office or find something new to do with your life. Maybe you’d keep the doctor around. The world would just have to wait and see.

#doc ock x reader #doc ock #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #spiderman #spiderverse #smut warning #tw smut

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 4

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.

But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?

Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.

She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.

She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.

Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.

It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?

She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.

… wait... Red Robin!

She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!

Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.

She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.

“Red Robin?” She whispered.

Nothing.

“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”

She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?

Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?

“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”

Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.

Time for drastic measures, then.

She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.

When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”

He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”

She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.

She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”

“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”

“Don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”

She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”

“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”

“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”

“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”

“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.

Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…

And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.

Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”

“Red Robin...” she warned.

“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”

“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”

Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”

“Um, Red,” she tried again.

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”

Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?

Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”

He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”

“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”

“He probably won’t.”

She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”

With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.

“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.

She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.

“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”

Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”

“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”

Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”

“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”

Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.

Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.

It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.

“Not going to kill us, huh?”

“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.

She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”

“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”

“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.

She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”

“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”

“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”

“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.

“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”

Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”

“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”

“Antisepticeye.”

“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.

Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”

Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.

She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”

“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.

She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”

He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.

Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.

He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.

Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.

Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.

But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.

Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.

He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.

But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.

Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.

He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.

The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.

“Pathetic,” chided Damian.

“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”

“I’m twelve!”

“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”

Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.

Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”

“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.

Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.

Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”

Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”

Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.

“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”

“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.

“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”

“Wait, no --.”

Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.

Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.

Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.

“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”

“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.

“I would if you were actually funny.”

“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.

Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.

The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.

“Deep breaths.”

Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.

… she was regretting that decision, now, though.

She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”

“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.

“We have lives, B,” she said.

“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”

“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.

“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”

Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.

Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”

She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”

He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.

Marinette scowled at where he had last been.

Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.

She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.

She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.

“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.

He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”

“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”

A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.

Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.

And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.

Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.

She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.

Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...

Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.

He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.

Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.

He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wanna do something?”

She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”

“... nothing approved.”

She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”

He matched her grin. “Well…”

And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.

Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”

Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”

He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”

“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.

“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”

“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”

“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.

Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”

“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.

He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.

He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.

She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.

Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.

Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.

Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.

She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).

There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.

Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.

Well, at least she was free now.

She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.

Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.

She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.

Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.

“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.

This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.

And down she went.

She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.

And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?

She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.

“Hey --?”

Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.

“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.

She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”

“Hm?”

Shitshitshit.

“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”

“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”

She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”

He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”

She nodded her understanding.

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.

“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”

Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).

What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.

Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.

And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”

Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.

Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”

“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.

However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.

Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.

Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”

Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”

Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.

She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”

The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”

“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.

Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.

That little shit.

And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.

Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.

Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.

Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”

Marinette and Tim both groaned.

“I have work to do.”

“Me, too.”

Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.

But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.

One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.

#stalker x stalker #maribat #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #theyre paranoid bastards your honor

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mizunetzu · 4 years ago

Note

my request is flaaaaaacidddddd peeeeenisssss

Flaaaaaaaciddddd peeeenisssss

——————

Iida x reader - Iida Tenya’s Imaginary Boyfriend (True Ending)

⚠️warnings - good ending HAHAGQ

Pronouns - male, he/him

Part one can be found here!

Part two can be found here!

——————

He woke up in recovery girls office.

He wasn’t sure how he got here. All he remembered was his head feeling a bit faint walking back to the dorms, then waking up here. Looking out the windows, vast colors of orange and yellow flooded in between the cracks of the blinds, making colorful stripes paint his bed with light. He presumed it was around sunset.

The door clicked open. Recovery girl, Aizawa, and detective Tsukauchi walked through the door.

“Do you know where you are right now, Iida?” Aizawa was frank, as usual.

“I believe I am in recovery girls office, though I have no clue how I got here.”

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “You were hit with a villains quirk about 2 days ago. You’ve been asleep ever since. It caused you to go in a nightmare-ish dream state until we caught them.”

Iida retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. It was then he realized he was in his pajamas. Aizawa stepped forward. “What’s your full name?”

“Iida Tenya.”

“How old are you and what school do you go to?”

“15 years old and I attend UA high school.”

Aizawa hummed. Nothing seemed to be wrong with his memory. “Do you know what day it is?”

“March 17...no, 19? Forgive me, it’s somewhere between there.”

“Iida,” Aizawa looked confused. It made Iida feel sort of uneasy aswell. Like getting a problem wrong and having your teacher be disappointed in you. “That’s almost a full month away. It’s February 3rd today.”

February 3rd. If Iida recalled correctly, that was around the day that everyone seemed to forget that (Y/n) existed. He checked his wrists out of habit. (Y/n’s) watch were gone. He was about to ask where it was, when the detective clicked his tongue.

“Well-thats to be expected,” Tsukauchi held up a case file, most likely a report on the criminal who used their quirk on Iida. “Time passes differently in the quirk-induced coma Iida-san was in. Some people affected by them claim it’s been years when it’s only been a couple of days. Truly terrifying.”

Recovery girl tutted. “All of his vitals seem to be in check. He should be able to return to the dorms now. Just have him take it easy for a couple days in training.”

“Mm. Make sure you make up your missed work,” Aizawa turned back, as Tsukauchi exited the office and recovery girl sat in her desk. “And tell your classmates you’re alright. Your friends were freaking out when you wouldn’t wake up in the morning. They should be in the dorms by now.”

Iida nodded.

———

Walking back to the dorms, there was one thing Iida couldn’t get off his mind.

He’s been in a ‘quirk-induced coma’ for 2 days. The passage of time is different with their quirk as to real life. And he could’ve sworn it was late March instead of early February.

So when did he fall asleep? And what was his ‘dream’ about?

He, at first, thought it was the result of walking home with his friends after seeing that sketch artist Kaitekina, but that doesn’t happen until almost a full month later. So, most of the things Iida remembers doing and learning in class has not happened yet.

And, nightmare? He remembers falling asleep and seeing (Y/n) in his dreams, but that doesn’t fall under ‘nightmare’ territory. Actually, it was rather pleasant.

“Oi! Iida’s awake!” He heard Kirishima yell, as he walked through the door. Most everyone was in the common room, and turned their heads. Each one of them erupted into a smile, saying things like “are you ok?” Or “glad to see you awake, Iida-san!”

He, unintentionally, tuned them all out.

What was his ‘nightmare?’ What made his dreams about a boy who doesn’t exist so bad? Was he waking up in his dream just to go to bed in that dream to dream another dream? What-

“-and (L/n) was so worried bro! I mean-he looked ok like usual but I guess he doesn’t really go out of his room unless you force him t-“

“I’m sorry, who?” Iida’s disbelieving voice sharply cut off Kaminari’s ramblings. He didn’t hear that correctly. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

“...bro...” Looks of worry or confusion flooded the 1A students. Similar to when they looked at him like he was insane, asking for a non-existent student named (L/n) (Y/n).

Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “(L/n)...? Your personal hype man? Dude who follows you around like a dog?”

“Kaminari-that was mean, he does not follow Iida around like a dog.”

“But he does!”

A playful argument rang out between Jirou and Kaminari. Everyone’s attention seemed to shift from Iida, to Jirou blasting her heartbeat into Kaminaris ears with her ear jacks.

“Iida-kun, are you okay..?” Midoryia brought Iida out of his trance. “Did you lose your memory or something while you were asleep?”

“No no I just-I probably misheard Kaminari-kun. Who was he talking about?” His voice was wavering. His desperation hidden behind the glare of his thick cut glasses and messy bed hair. He needed to comb his hair once he sorted things out.

“(L/n) (Y/n)-kun?” There it’s was again. “He sits next to you in class? You...oh! You two fought in the sports festival? And...yknow...the whole,” Midoryia stuck out his tongue making a mask with his hands and pretending to lick someone’s blood. “-thing?”

Everytime he asked who he fought in the sports festival, everyone including Midoryia would say “Hatsume-san, Ibara-san, and Todoroki-kun.” He never recalled fighting someone named “Ibara” from class 1B, having fought (Y/n) instead, but he grew to just accepting it.

And when he asked about the Stain incident, Todoroki and Midoryia would claim it was just them three fighting him. There was no one with (h/c) hair that helped Midoryia, him, and Todoroki out immensely. As far as Iida was concerned, (L/n) (Y/n) did not exist to the world.

So why was everyone talking like he was a real person?

“Iida, if you really don’t remember, you should go get that checked out by recovery girl...it’s pretty odd that you forgot about your own classma-“

The sudden startup of engines, followed by the whirring hiss of smoke trailing past him cut Midoryia off. Iida burned through the pants of his pajamas, but he didn’t care. He ran as fast as he could to the 4th floor of the boys side of the dorms.

His heart quickened with every step he took. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up, but the obvious look of desperation on Iida’s face seemed to lead his thoughts. He needed to see for himself.

Skidding to a halt infront of the supposedly empty dorm room, he once again halted when he reached for the doorknob. Everytime he’d check this room on impulse, he was always met with the empty, white walls and drawn curtains supplied by the school. He didn’t want to walk in and face white again.

And he didn’t.

Almost taking the door off the hinges, Iida practically shoved the door out of his way. A small gasp ripped its way through Iida’s throat.

A dimly lit room, one that was never kept clean, that had an oddly sweet smell coming from it. He saw the vaguely familiar (f/c) bedsheets, with the sea blue comforter thrown lazily on it, half slipping onto the ground. He saw the messily taped Ingenium posters, crooked and wonky, plastered on his studying table, which was almost never used for studying. When they studied together, it was usually on Iida’s bed or somewhere outside.

But finally, he saw the patio slider door opened, curtains fluttering in the mellow orange sunlight with someone standing outside. They were leaning on the balcony, with their arms stretching up, the reflection of their cheap red watch burning light into Iida’s eyes.

“(L/n)...kun...?” The name felt foreign on his lips. Even if he technically ‘saw him two days/one month ago’, it felt like years since he’s actually felt like he was in the same room as him. The boy, (Y/n), turned around.

Setting sunlight painted his face with warm colors, making the (h/c) shade of his hair burn brighter. The light also seemed to reflect off the (e/c) iris’ of (Y/n’s) face, making it look like it was glowing. It lit his face well enough to make him seem ethereal. Breathtaking. Real.

It was him. It was (Y/n).

“Morning, Tenya. How’s it feel to be asleep for two days?”

Iida didn’t answer. Instead, he walked tentatively towards the patio sliding entrance, his burnt pajama pants cinching his calves now that his adrenaline high was subsiding. He stopped a few inches way from (Y/n), reaching out and shakily touching his cheek.

Instead of fazing through him, or flat out fading, his hand made contact with warm, soft skin. (Y/n) hummed and nuzzled his cheek into his hand. Iida’s vision blurred involuntarily, despite him having his glasses on.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

His voice’s vibration, and the warm breath that fanned his chest was enough proof that he was here. Enough proof he was dragged down back to earth, no longer just a distant memory no one remembered.

Iida’s throat closed up, and he felt his knees go weak. He was a blurred mass of (h/c) and (skin/c), with the hint of red that protruded from his arm, but Iida knew he was still there. He was there, with him, and would be going on until forever.

A tender, hoarse chuckle escaped Iida. He leaned his cheek onto (Y/n’s) forehead, not caring that his face and bed hair was still messy and reeked of sleep. He smiled.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, (Y/n)-kun.”

——————

Haha. That was fun. Anyways-

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britishassistant · 4 years ago

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Just Wants An Uneventful Holiday (Part 2)

You need a break from your break at this rate.

You are exhausted.

You and Grim arrived back at the dorm with maybe ten minutes to spare before the other students came back from the parade and immediately set about working on completing your escape route as quickly as possible.

Only for the guy you’ve mentally dubbed “Scarabia Student A” to come to your door and tell the pair of you apologetically that because of Grim’s threats, Asim-senpai had decreed that neither of you would be allowed lunch and needed to remain locked in your room until defensive magic practice that afternoon.

On the plus side, your impromptu imprisonment let you and Grim work on the escape route undisturbed for the next hour. On the down side, it meant you both were starving after the exertion of the parade march and the digging.

The only reason you two didn’t collapse during defensive magic practice was because Viper-senpai snuck you both some bread and dried meats when he came to let you out. He also took the trouble to invite you two to a secret meeting on Asim-senpai’s behavior after dinner tonight.

You have to grudgingly admit, he is good at what he’s doing.

He has Asim-senpai do something cruel, then appears to the victims of said cruelty as a “savior”, doing what he can to soothe their pain “in spite of” his subordinate position to Asim-senpai, cultivating feelings of gratitude and empathy towards himself and resentment towards his puppet.

Even if you know what he’s doing, it’s difficult to resist that instinctual response.

Grim’s subvocal grumbling of “It doesn’t look like that white-haired jerk’s being controlled, fgnah.” is proof enough of that.

This way, once Viper-senpai drives Asim-senpai to overblot, no one will question him fighting against the dorm head he claims to be so loyal to, and his behavior before and during the overblot will make him appear to be the ideal replacement for the “mentally unstable” dorm head.

He’s definitely aiming for the dorm head position. The little performance this morning where he blatantly usurped Asim-senpai’s role of water-provider is proof enough of that.

Still, you muse while shouting out directions to Grim during magic training. Viper-senpai’s either very confident in his magic abilities or very ignorant about overblot to think that inducing it in Asim-senpai is in any way a good idea.

Especially if he’s under the delusion that his Unique Magic could somehow control an overblotted Asim-senpai.

It’d be better to just frame Asim-senpai for the actions he’s already committed under the influence, maybe show him shirking some dorm head duties if that was insufficent. You just don’t understand why Viper-senpai’s going through all this trouble and making a move now instead of closer to whenever elections for dorm heads are held, to make his win seem more legitimate.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to gain more information once you and Grim go along to this evening’s meeting with your plan in mind.

The after-dinner meeting starts pretty much how you expect it to.

Viper-senpai plays on the feelings of the other Scarabia students masterfully, painting himself as a concerned friend who only wants what’s best for his dorm head, but is at a loss due to Asim-senpai’s refusal to listen to reason. You and Grim give the input he clearly wants when he subtly cues you to.

However, when Grim tells him to just challenge Kalim for the position, Viper-san crosses his arms and coldly states, “No. There’s no way I can do that.”

Wait.

What?

“Gak! Y-you were the one who asked for advice, yanno...” Grim mutters, clearly as off-kilter as you feel.

From there Viper-senpai subtly divulges the sordid details of his slavery to the Asim family due to the circumstances of his birth, and how that conglomorate has been interfering on Asim-senpai’s behalf and at Viper-senpai’s expense for the entirety of their time at Night Raven College.

And all the while you’re sitting here, head feeling like it’s spinning a million miles a minute, trying to stop yourself from over-empathizing with the vice dorm head and figure out what this all means.

You don’t doubt for a single second that what he’s saying about the Asim and Viper families is true. However, his actions thus far have shown he is gunning for the dorm head position, even using this show of vulnerability to manipulate the other students into following him.

But why put himself and his family in such jeopardy for a simple school title?

“Asim-senpai doesn’t embody ‘the spirit of Scarabia?’ What does that mean?” You ask, latching onto a thread of the conversation in hopes of getting some clarity.

“There are different requirements for the position of dorm head in each of the seven dorms that a candidate must meet, which are taken from the virtues of the Great Seven.” Viper-senpai explains. “Duels are just an easy way to determine if the current dorm head meets that criteria or not. For example, in Pomefiore, the dorm head must have the greatest expertise in poisons, like the Beautiful Queen before them.”

One of the other students says something about Viper-senpai’s prudence and tactical thinking is much more like the Sorcerer of the Sands than Asim-senpai, but it sounds distant and far away to your ears.

Your brain is too busy buzzing over this new piece of information.

The dorm heads are supposed to be those who best embody the Great Seven.

The same Great Seven who’ve been appearing in your dreams practically every night before the overblots in their corresponding dorms happen.

What if— what if the reason that all the overblots this far have been dorm heads isn’t because the position of dorm head itself and the stresses it causes?

What if it’s because the criteria for the position of dorm head corresponds to the member of the Great Seven that dorm represents, which might contribute to who goes over the edge somehow?

After all, if you’re going by magic use and stress alone, then Buchie-senpai would’ve been the most likely candidate for overblot during the Magift incident. He did Laugh With Me an entire horde of civilians to stampede the coliseum after all.

But it was Leona-senpai, who best embodied the positive and negative qualities of the King of the Savannah, who ultimately overblotted. You even said it to him yourself when you asked him for help in investigating potential overblots outside of Night Raven College before the break. You thought at the time that his overblot was just because of the level of mental stress he was under, but if his status as a personification played a major role somehow...

But, then that means—

That means Asim-senpai isn’t automatically guaranteed to overblot because he’s a dorm head.

But Viper-senpai’s plan just plays off the common denominator of past overblots to make him seem in enough danger of doing so that the authorities are forced to recognize the signs and remove him from the position that’s “stressing” him so much.

Even the Asim family can’t object if the school is acting in the interests of their son’s mental health. They likely as not would decide to remove him from the “toxic environment” of Night Raven College altogether, either by transferring him to Royal Sword Academy or by paying for Asim-senpai to graduate early.

Though wouldn’t that mean Viper-senpai, as Asim-senpai’s servant, would be forced to leave with him? Or does he think that he’ll be able to convince the Asims to let him stay somehow?

In any case, that’s why you and Grim are still trapped here—because Viper-senpai’s under the impression that you both have some direct line to that useless birdbrain of a headmaster and can report the situation back to him.

But the amount of magic needed to keep up the charade until the headmaster actually notices, combined with the fact that everyone is saying that Viper-senpai is the rightful embodiment of the Sorcerer of the Sands means—

“Viper-senpai, you’ve got to run!”

You seize onto him, desperation evident in your face.

Viper-senpai retreats a step or two, blinking in alarm as you follow him to not lose your grip on his hand or his clothes. “Prefect, what—?”

“You said it yourself!” You can barely keep your voice from edging into hysteria. “You’re closest to Asim-senpai, and the way things are going, he’s going to overblot just like Rosehearts-senpai did. A-and overblots are illogical, they’re practically insane with hatred! They go after the people closest to them— you remember how badly Buchie-senpai was hurt when Leona-senpai overblotted, right?!”

Viper-senpai’s eyes are fixed on you as you shake your head, reliving those awful memories. “The only reason Trey-senpai didn’t die when Rosehearts-senpai overblotted was because Ace and Deuce got in his way and pissed him off more. If you stay in Scarabia...Viper-senpai, you’re in more danger than anyone else here! You need to get out of here, please, just run!!”

Please, you mentally beg as you stare at him. Please take the out I’m giving you. Call it off here, get out, get away, change your name, do whatever you have to to escape. Just, please, please don’t overblot on me too.

Viper-senpai’s brow furrows.

He slowly shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Prefect. Even if I wanted to, I’m bound to Kalim. I must follow him to the end.”

“But you could die.” You make no effort to hide your dismay, hands clenching around what they hold. “I-I can’t...pl-please don’t make me...”

His free hand begins moving towards your uninjured cheek—

CRASH!!

The sudden commotion makes the two of you leap apart, staring wildly at the source of the noise.

Grim sits dazed in the center of several overturned metal dishes and a golden lion-shaped tureen.

“Ow, ow, ow, that huuuurt!” He complains loudly, rubbing his little head. “What the heck, why’s this dumb thing empty if it smells good?! Aah, I’m so hun—”

“SSSHH!!” Practically everyone in the room hushes.

“Could you be any louder?!” Scarabia Student B hisses, looking around.

“Do you wanna just begin screaming for the Dorm Head, you stupid cat?!!” Scarabia Student A whispers furiously. “Seriously, if he wakes up and sees us here like this, we’re dead tomorrow, don’t you get that?!”

“Sheesh, I’m sorry.” Grim harrumphs, wandering back to his cushion. “It was just an accident, what’s gotten you all so worked up, fgnah?”

“Oh gee, I wonder why.” A third student somewhere near the back mutters.

“They were having a moment.” You think you hear a fourth student hiss, but you’re pretty sure you’ve misheard that one.

Viper-senpai clears his throat and goes to peer out into the hall. “...There’s no sign of movement. I think we’re safe, for the moment.”

You fiddle with your tie and collar, trying to straighten them as much as you can. “I-I apologize for my outburst. My behavior was inappropriate and not conducive to the matter at hand.”

Viper-senpai huffs a little laugh. “Don’t be. You’re only looking out for others’ wellbeing, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know better than anyone how dangerous these kinds of things are, after all. You’ve survived three of them.”

“Four.” Grim corrects from his cushion, tail flicking back and forth. “There was that creepy one in the Dwarf Mines that broke Yuu’s ribs at the start of the year, right Yuu?”

Your tie feels a little tight as you finish adjusting it, fidgeting under everyone’s scrutiny. “...yes. It’s a long story.”

“Will the dorm-head really overblot though?” The kid you’ve mentally dubbed “Scarabia Student B” pipes up. “I just can’t see it...”

“Well, he has exhibited a lot of the symptoms shown by other dorm heads before their overblots.” You say carefully. “An obsession with achieving a certain goal is something Rosehearts-senpai, Leona-senpai, and Ashengrotto-senpai all had in common, and Asim-senpai’s desire to improve Scarabia does fit this pattern.”

“Is there nothing that can be done for him Prefect?” Viper-senpai urges, gripping your shoulders. “Kalim may be unreliable at times, but I grew up with him. He calls me his friend. Are you saying there’s no way we can stop him from overblotting?”

You shrug gently, trying not to dislodge him. You don’t want his hackles raised now. “I’ve yet to see an overblot prevented, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Keeping him from using too much magic would be a big plus, because the blot would have less of a chance to build up. Other than that, it might be best to prepare for the worst? Just in case.”

“Maybe call the family doctor on the sly!” Grim chips in. “See if he can come here to take Kalim home rather than the other way round!”

Viper-senpai nods slowly, like someone accepting news of an imminent loss. “I’ll certainly take your advice into consideration. However, I will not leave. I can’t abandon the dorm—can’t abandon Kalim— during this crisis. I won’t run and leave everyone to face the danger alone.”

“Vice dorm head!” One of the younger students chokes out.

It feels like something hard and unforgiving is lodged against your breastbone.

“I-I won’t let it.” You stammer, feeling yourself flush a deep red in embarrassment at your verbal blunder. “I won’t let it come to that, Viper-senpai. I’ll stop this overblot. No matter what it takes. I swear to you, on my life, I’ll stop it!”

Viper-senpai gives you a not unkind chuckle, meeting your gaze head-on. “Well then, Prefect. I’ll be in your care.”

You can’t hold it for more than a few moments, your breath hitching as you look away. It feels like there’s so much blood in your cheeks that the one Asim-senpai slapped earlier is beginning to hurt again.

“We-we’ll help out too, Jamil!” Scarabia Student A claims, standing up as well.

“Y-yeah! You’re much more fit to be dorm head than Kalim-senpai!” Two more students in the back push towards the front.

“Our dorm head should be someone who embodies the virtues of the Sorcerer of the Sands, not someone who paid their way in and is overblotting because they can’t take the heat.” A tall third year proclaims.

“Yeah!”

“You said it!”

“We’re all equal here!”

“You guys...” Viper-senpai looks genuinely touched, staring out at his sea of carefully handled supporters.

“What are you all doing here at this time of night?”

Asim-senpai stands in the doorway, glaring angrily at all of you.

You can’t quite help the two shaky steps back you take.

“Geh, he found us!” Grim mutters, hiding behind your leg.

“Ka-Kalim.” Viper-senpai says, hands held up placatingly. “We were just—”

“It seems I went to easy on you today, if you all are still overflowing with energy this late at night.” Asim-senpai says coldly. “You should go outside to the courtyard to practice magic until you hit your limits.”

A chill goes down your spine. “Asim-senpai, that’s really not a good idea, we were just—”

“You. Shut up.” The dorm head stalks towards you. “Do you think you can presume to order me around? Was one meal enough to make you think that lying tongue of yours could do whatever it wanted? Maybe we should switch to practice using offensive magic this time—you’d make a fine moving target.”

It’s suddenly much harder to breathe.

“D-dorm head!”

“Why you—!” Grim snarls.

“Kalim.” Viper-senpai steps in front of you, blocking you from Asim-senpai’s view. “The Prefect was only referring to your idea of starting the march two hours earlier tomorrow. Everyone needed to be notified of that, so we’ll be turning in now.”

“T-two hours?!” Scarabia Student B gasps, only to be quickly hushed by everyone around him.

“...” Asim-senpai seems to contemplate this for a moment, before closing his eyes. “Very well. But no one will be eating until dinner tomorrow for this failure to listen to directions the first time, understood?”

Viper-senpai opens his mouth to protest again, but then slumps. “...Yes, Kalim.”

Asim-senpai waves a hand. “Well? What are you all waiting for? You’re dismissed.”

The students of the dorm begin to slowly, sullenly file out into the hallway, many of them grumbling and muttering under their breath.

You take the opportunity to escape, scooping up Grim and clapping a cautious hand over your friend’s big mouth so he can’t say anything else as you edge past Asim-senpai.

“Thank you.” You mouth at Viper-senpai as you speed walk out of the room.

He shoots you a small smile in response.

The journey back to your shared room is quick and uneventful, though you feel constantly on edge the entire way there.

You aren’t able to relax until you’ve nodded a “goodnight” to Scarabia students A and B and shut the door firmly behind you, sagging against it.

You really should learn their names at some point.

“Well?” Grim asks after you hear the lock on your door click into place and the guards wander off for their patrol. “Did you get it?!”

The hard and unforgiving feeling against your breastbone hasn’t faded at all.

You turn your back and unbutton your shirt, removing the source of said feeling from its hiding place.

“Your timing with knocking that stuff over was perfect.” You turn back around and flash Viper-senpai’s magic pen. “But we need to get our escape route finished quick, he could notice it’s gone missing any second now.”

You’re sort of amazed that he hasn’t already. You kept expecting to hear someone begin chasing after you and Grim as you left, angrily screaming about the theft. If he hadn’t stepped in for you when you protested magic practice...

Thank Ace and Buchie-senpai that you somehow got away with this.

“Yes!! That’s my minion for ya!!” Grim cackles softly, grin sharp and savage as he leaps back into the hole in the floor. “I still wish I coulda bonked him over the head, but imagine his face once the idiot’s realized he’s been duped!”

“Just so long as that experience stays imaginary.” You mutter, bringing the pen over to the locked window and looking at it under the moonlight that seeps in through the slats.

There’s blot staining over half of the crimson gem.

You wince just looking at it. How much magic has Viper-senpai been using for this much for accumulate?

Still, he’s probably not so stupid that he’ll risk casting magic without it, so ar least he’ll be on magic-using probation for the duration of time that you have it.

All you have to do is keep it away from him until the blot’s dissipated and you can report his plan and living situation to Crowley and other teachers. The other teachers will force the dumb bird to actually do something about Viper-senpai’s slavery. He won’t have a reason to overblot anymore. Everyone wins.

Though unfortunately, you can’t do much about stress-induced blotting, and you have no idea if he can still overblot while separated from his magic pen. Maybe you should investigate whether or not you could just...smash it and get him a new, non-blotted magic pen as a replacement? They do those, right?

“It’s done!” Grim hisses, prompting you to stash the magic pen away again and button up your shirt. “It’ll be a kinda tight squeeze though.”

You purse your lips at the small hole. “...It’ll have to do. We don’t have any time to waste, c’mon.”

To say it’s cramped would be an understatement. You’re more covered in scrapes and dust than you’ve ever been by the time you drop onto the ground of the floor below, panting and wheezing for breath. Your bruised cheek is throbbing again.

“Now I know what it feels like when spaghetti gets made at least.” You whisper.

Grim nods. “You can say that again. Now, we’re in between guard patrols, but we’ve still gotta be extra quiet so they don’t hea—”

GRRRRRARGGHH

You stare at your monster cat’s stomach as its complaining rumble dies away.

“Hey! What’s that noise?!” Comes the patrolling student’s cry.

You close your eyes. “Grim.”

“What?!” He whispers back, ears flicking in embarrassment. “I didn’t get any lunch! I can’t help being super hungry!!”

“Grim.”

“Oi! The Prefect and the cat have broken out again!” A Scarabia guard yells as he rounds the corner. “But how?! I could’ve sworn Achmed said he locked their door!”

“Ah!!” His compatriot cries, pointing up at the hole in the ceiling. “Look!! They’ve totally destroyed the floor of their room! Is that how you pay us back for our hospitality?!”

“How dare you?!” The first guard gasps. “That stuff’s really expensive to fix! Everyone, get over here! We’ve got another escape attempt!!”

“Fgnah! Yuu, let’s go, before their buddies get here!” Grim yelps, taking off down the hallway with you hot on his heels.

You hear the door to your prison slam open behind you, accompanied by Viper-senpai’s infuriated roar of “PREFECT!!”

You bundle Grim under one arm and run faster.

You seriously need a break from your break at this rate.

Hopefully you’ll get one, if you can figure out how to make it out of this dorm alive.

91 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 5 years ago

Text

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage.

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

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“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing.

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more.

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit.

On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him.

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound.

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide.

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more.

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you.

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.”

Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control.

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way.

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him.

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him.

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink.

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked.

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right?

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.)

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?”

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly.

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye.

Wonder what’s happening?

Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks.

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

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Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity.

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety.

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists.

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been.

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around.

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day.

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head.

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind.

The view was still nice.

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow.

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop.

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled.

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable.

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet.

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?”

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state.

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky.

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind.

“I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.”

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars.

Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold.

You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

“Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.”

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him.

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light.

“You’re... not?”

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die.

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved.

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks.

He’s around because he wants to be.

But not because you’re special to him.

His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you.

You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

“Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes.

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats.

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it.

On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion.

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything.

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

(The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #reader insert #mha x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x y/n #lavender latte #bnha x reader

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wthcew · 4 years ago

Note

JayTim, flirting, falling in love and cuddles and JJ Tim who gor adopted by Harley and Ivy pretty please??

Sweetie, you just jumped on my train of JJ fics, I hope you don't mind that I added a little bit of smut

I'm so sorry it took me that long to write it, I hope you like it!

_____________________________________________

30 days

_____________________________________________

The first time he heard about it he was under the ground. He felt like he was choking, his helmet somewhere unknown and with it his communication with Oracle. He isn't talking to B (not after he chose the fucking Joker over him) but he does help Nightwing sometimes, and oh, did he wished right now that he would have never let Dick in his safehouse.

Nightwing and Red Hood were about to bust a drag ring, but the thing is, it was an ambush, so now they're both under ground, Hood's leg impaled to the ground by an iron pillar from one of the walls that exploded and that they're buried under, his helmet in an unknown place and 'wing trying to call for help.

Jason tried to slow his breath but being under ground is bringing back bad memories (He can't breathe, he's locked, and all he want right now is his dad-) of being six feet under and he's hysterical- because everything is hurting and broken and half his face are burned and he can't breathe so please, please he just want his dad, "please dad come save me"-

He's so gone into his mind, letting his panic control him that he's flinching away when Dick touching his shoulder, but it's pulling him out of his head (and just when did the tears started to spill out of his eyes?), and Dick is looking at him, the whites lenses of his domino mask are gone and instead Jason's getting those blue eyes that are full with concern.

"It's okay Jay" Dick smiled at him, a small smile that somehow made Jason believe that it's okay. "B and baby bat are on their way right now," Dick's hand found Jason's and he squeezed it in reassuring. Jason returned the squeeze. "We will be fine"

...

"Did someone ever told you about the kid who almost killed Joker?" Dick asked after couple minutes of silence, when Jason's breath is under control and he isn't so much as hysterical as he was couple of minutes before.

Jay turned his head to Dick, "No" his voice was hoarse, too hoarse for his own ears but Dick didn't seems to mind, he just nodded his head and smiled softly at him.

"He was thirteen years old back then, Joker took him, when Babs still was Batgirl" And at that moment Dick's comn beeped and after five minutes they were out of the ground, Bruce and Damian next to Dick, checking if he's fine while Jason took his helmet, the hole in his leg isn't that bad and when Dick looking at him the Red Hood already swing away.

_____________________________________________

The second time he heard about it was because he wanted to, he was curious and he wanted to know what happened to the kid, what made a thirteen years old kid almost kill the Joker.

So, he was on his couch, his leg bandaged and a cup of hot tea on the coffe table, his laptop open and working and the reading lamp's orange light made his shadow look like some villain from kids cartoon.

It's hard to find anything about it but he is (A bat) Red Hood, if he wants to he'll find out what happened back then. And he want to.

So Jason cracked his fingers and started to work.

The seconds became to minutes that became to hours of work and clicking on his keyboard, it's hard to find anything because apparently this whole story is shushed and all Jason gathered until now came from a video of the news report and all they said there was that Joker broke out of Arkham and decided he wanted a son, kidnapped some unlucky kid and deleted the boy's personality with electrical shocks until he becamed Joker Junior, and then he kept torturing the kid until the Batman and Batgirl found the kid, broken minded and holding a gun to Joker's head.

It was quite the story, but Jason didn't know what happened later, who the kid was or what happened to him.

But he will, just to know if the kid's okay. Or to ask why he hadn't pulled the trigger..

So he kept digging, looking for anything that may conect to the story. And that's how Jason found himself reading article about Jack and Jent Drake disowning their only child Tim Drake. The kid was only thirteen back then, and all he took before he took off from the face of earth was a stuffed Kola and a camra.

And it may be his curiosity about this because he don't remember the kid and apparently they were neighbors or the JJ thing but he knows that he'll find Tim Drake.

_____________________________________________

Jent Drake died two years after she disowned Tim in a car crash, her husband got depressed and started looking for Tim to reown him but then he met Dana Winters.

There was some love story there that Jason wasn't really that interested in reading but in the end they married and left Gotham, never coming back. And the most annoying thing is, that Tim was never found.

But he did found out that there was some kid that helped Harley and Ivy sometimes, he had a faded red hoodie and faded green jeans.

The hoodie's hat always hiding his face and from the little Jason saw, his skin was more white than normal human skin.

Jason couldn't find a lot of photos of the kid but he did find one of Harley hugging the kid.

Jason looked at the photo, it was fuve years old, when Tim desperate and all the JJ thing happened. The way he held himself was familiar to Jason, something deep in his mind, memories that he couldn't remember, but it was there, and Jason knows that this Tim kid is JJ who is also somehow Harley's kid.

_____________________________________________

"I need your help"

"Oh that's nice, what aby 'hey Babs, how was your day? Did Dick pissed you off and going to sleep on the couch tonight? Can you please help me with this thing?'"

Jason smiled, shifting the phone that was pressed against his ear "What did Dick did?"

"He was a dick"

"How was your day?"

"What did you wanted help with Jay?"

"Clown boy"

"Hmm?"

"Joker Junior"

A sharp breath "What about him?"

"You know who he is?"

"We found him after he took a dip in the acid, and he was dressed like the Joker, too much make up, green hair, purple suit, couldn't recognise him"

"But you know don't you?"

"Batman doesn't know"

"Well you're Oracle not Batman. It's simple question O, you know? Yes or no?"

"I know"

"I think I know too"

"Who do you think it is?"

"Tim Drake"

"..Yes it's him"

"Why didn't you told Bruce?

"He's a good kid"

"He's with Harley now"

"Tim isn't bad"

"Babs, if he's Joker Junior and he's with Harley he can't be that good"

"Jay, Harley and Ivy gave me the tip to find him and Harley took him in after his parents disowned him, he may be stilling sometimes or helping Harley and Ivy but he is good"

"You kept tabs on him?"

"He's smart, he may have lost a lot of his memories because of the Joker and he is crazy but he have support"

"Does Bruce know you're helping hiding him?"

"No, and he wouldn't. Not until Tim decided that it's fine"

"You're in contact?"

"We're just talking, I'm sending him puzels and riddles and it's helping him keep clean mind"

"Can I talk to him?"

"I can't tell you where he is but I also can't stop you from doing this"

"Thank you Babs"

"Not a problem Jaybird"

_____________________________________________

It was a week later that Jason walked into a small unnoticed coffee shop.

The design of the place gave him a feeling of happiness, like it was some kind of home.

He looked through everyone there, couple next to the window, three old ladies sitting in a table for four, chatting and laughing, couple of collage students sitting with something to eat and something warm to drink and typing on their laptops, and on the farthest side of the coffee shop, in a table for two, sat a teen, his hands paler than any human skin, his long hair hiding his face, a coffee cup in front of him and his legs shacking.

"Hello! Can I help you?" A cheerful voice called from the cashier desk, he put on a smile on his face and turned to see a black haired girl, with a big smile on her face.

"Yeah, do you have Eral Gray?"

"We do! Anything else with this?"

"No, thank you"

"Okay, just a minute"

When he got his cup he paid the girl murmuring a "Thank you" and walking to Tim.

When he sat down in front of the teen, icy blue eyes looked at his face, and his breath hitched when he saw the little cuts on at each end of his mouth, creating a smile.

"Hey" Jason said, smiling at Tim.

"Hey.." Tim's voice almost didn't reached his ears and Jason's smile grew wider when Tim smiled at him. A shy little amazing smile.

"I'm Jason"

"T-Tim"

"Nice to meet you"

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted tea"

"You aren't scared?" Tim's eyes looked a bit insane when he said the last word, his smile grew wider and he leaned closer to the table. The cuts on his face and his pale skin made him look like Joker but there was also something else there, something in his eyes that said 'Pleas don't be scared' and Jason swallowed and forced his nerves to calm down.

"No, you actually seems nice"

Tim blinked once.

Twice.

And then his smile became nicer, less dangerous and more shy. He relaxed and took a sip from his coffee.

Jason smiled, sipping from his own cup while making a note in his head to be careful with this one.

They drank a couple more cups together, chatting about nothing in particular and when Tim excused himself and left, Jason found a paper next to the cup.

He opened it because of his dammed curiosity and bis breath hitched.

'Ha ha ha'

_____________________________________________

It was in the middle of the night, the streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

His parents just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But sometimes he wonders if he'll ever be good enough for them to stay. If he'll ever be good enough so his mother wouldn't need to hiss his name through clench teeth and his father to hit him.

Maybe he would never be good enough..

In those nights when he wonders about it, he goes to a walk. It's always makes him calm and shuts his mind down. It's leaving him with the feeling of wholenesses, like some how the wind that hit his body in cold sharp hit is welcoming, or the cold of the night is like his stuffed Kola -the one he got from Bruce Wayne In a gala that his parents hosted when he was four and since then he hides it from his parents and hugging it when he need comfort- or like the silence out here is better than the silence inside the empty house.

And maybe, just maybe hr would see his heros.

And as Tim kept walking he could barely hear this cursed laugh, followed by the soft like song-

Mary had a little lamb

Little lamb, little lamb

Mary had a little lamb...

"Cutie pie?" His mama's voice rang, it was muffled but it was still there. "I'm hearing laughing, it's a good joke?"

A knock on his door "Sweetheart?" His laugh grew and his eyes burned, tears dropping from his eyes.

"Timmy?"

He hugged his legs to his chest, laughing and crying and this song is stuck in his head and he can't stop it and-

"Mary had a little lamb"

Mama's hands are around him, hugging him and petting his hair "Shhh shh shh, everything's fine baby, I'm here"

He can't breathe and the song is on full volume in his head but mama's here and mama is safety, she's safety. He's safe. Safe

_____________________________________________

"What the hell were you thinking?" Oracle's voice rang through the comn in his helmet.

"You need to be more specific than that O"

"Tim blocked me, Selina is mad at Bruce because one of his kids hurt her niece, Harley and Tim are nowhere to be found and Selina and Ivy are planning something"

"I didn't hurt Tim and I don't know why you told ma all the other stuff"

"Hood, Tim's smart, maybe too much smart but his mind is broken, he's crazy and genius"

"Okay and..?"

"He wants to go -and I’m quoting him- Boom he always wanted everyone to know that he's Harley's kid, and I always made him take more time, think about it more the fact that he blocked me means that I can't tell him to sit back anymore"

"You can remove it though"

"I did, and he just throw his phone away"

"So I broke him?"

"No, Joker broke him you just set him off"

"Shit"

"Yes. Shit"

_____________________________________________

"Wohhooo" Was shout out to the sky as Tim set in shopping cart, Harley -in her rollerblades- holding the handles of the cart, and they're both 'driving' down a road, laughing.

The air hit Tim's face in the best way he could have ever imagined and he laughed so hard that his cheedk burned, and maybe he ripped his stiches oncr again today but he dosen't care.

He is happy. So, so happy, like he was with this hot guy in the coffee shop, before his meltdown.

But right now, right now it's all this.

His mama and him, having fun, his mom and aunty kitty somewhere doing her own thing and everything's okay.

He laughed again as they started to speed up, the wind throwing his hair in any direction possible.

After a few minutes they cane to a stop, his mama's smile is so loving and he hopes that his smile is loving as well.

"Come on sweetie, let's do it" Harley smiled as she gave him the lighter, he jumped out of the cart and lit the lighter, his eyes sparking as the fire started spreading.

Tim and Harley walked away because they're crazy not stupid.

There faces lit up as the fireworks blew and flew to the sky.

Harley hugged him from behind and he relaxed into his mama's touch, watching the fireworks becoming to words that are shining over Gotham's sky.

30 days

_____________________________________________

"Hey Hoodie" A cheerful voice called from behind him.

Red Hood turned around, a gun in his hand just to be met with Tim's lovely smile.

"Chill, chill" The teen said, holding his hands up "I'm not going to hurt you"

"What do you want?" Hood asked, lowering his gun.

"We have never met have we?" Tim said, his smile calm

"I don't think so"

"No, but I did met Robin"

"So you met the Demon"

Tim frowned "No. The second one."

"Don't know him"

"Red Hood can't meet Robin II"

"And why's that?"

"Robin II's dead, dad killed him" Tim shock his head "I don't like dad, I liked Robin II and dad did it because it's funny. It's not!"

Tim looked so frustrated, his eyes big and he's looking at Jason like he hope that he would understand that and, something in Jason change, his face are softer under the helmet and-

"Okay Tim, I know you aren't the Joker."

"I didn't met *you* but we did met, I know Robin and I know Jason and now I know Red Hood?"

"You know who I am"

"No, no no no!" Tim looked him straight in the eyes, like he could see his face behind the helmet "You're Red Hood now, you were Robin and you always were Jason but now you Red Hood, I don't know Red Hood!"

"Okay, okay, relax, you don't know Red Hood, that's fine"

"I need to know Red Hood"

"Why?"

"Because I need Red Hood to help me"

"You need help?"

"Yes"

"Okay, but why Red Hood?"

"Because.. Ummm because- Because of Dad! I need Red Hood to help me kill dad"

To kill.. the Joker.

To kill the Joker.

The Joker dead.

'Yes'

"I would help you, Red Hood and Jason, okay?"

Tim nodded "Yeah, okay."

The sky started to glow and they both looked up, looking at fireworks that formed

29 days

_____________________________________________

It was so logical and simple that Jason almost laugh.

He sat next to Tim in some small safehouse, looking at Tim up and down as he was solving Sudoku.

They're waiting for the others to decide exactly who will go in and kill this son of a bitch and aho will make sure that everyone else will be present in that day.

They are waiting for Tim's small family, and Jason smiled at the thought of this family, he once had one and then he died and he was replaced by Stephanie Brown who is now Batgirl so they're fine now. But he doesn't have this family now, all he have are some blurred memories.

Tim let out a little "Yay" with a cute, small giggle that made Jason smile.

"Hey!" Tim suddenly said, looking at Jason with big eyes, Jason looked around him, trying to find something that would make Tim look panoco "What-"

"Are you hurt?" Tim's voice was soft and caring and Jasom heart might have skipped a beat, "No?"

"Than why do you have split lip and bruise on your jaw?"

"I've got into a fight, it's not serious" But Tim was there in seconds, his worry eyes looking at Jason's jaw and just wow- Jason swallowed the lump in his throat when Tim's slender finger touched his lip and-

"I've the best thing to help!" Tim pulled away and his finger caressed Jason's lip in a way that made Jason hold his breath.

And in the next moment Tim putted a chocolate bar in his hand, smiling at him "It help!" He said and Jason huffed a laugh, mentally shacking his head.

"Thanks Timmy" Jason said an smile on his face, opening the chocolate and cutting a line.

It was milk chocolate with pop candy and it was amazing, Jason hummed as he ate it, looking at Tim solving a new sudoku.

After the meeting (if it even can be called that) Jason took the rest of the chocolate bar, just to have something sweet after patrol tonight.

_____________________________________________

Jason stripped from his Red Hood gear, stretching his hands out and poping his back.

He took a quick shower and pulled on a sweat pants and grey hoodie from the deep of his closest 'Maybe it's time to do the laundry'.

Jason smiled as the sky were lit in 25 Days and turned the lamp off.

His lip tickled as some kind of reminder that Tim touched him there, he looked so worried and that just warmed Jason's heart.

And that amazing chocolate- maybe he will have to get hurt more just to have it.

He closed hid eyes, ready to fall asleep and then it hit him-

Oh.

Oh shit.

He- he have a crush.

_____________________________________________

The sun was in the middle of the sky when Jason woke up, blinking into the darkness because the blinds are close.

He groaned as he stretched his body, still in the bed under the warmth of the fluffy blanket. The sleepiness still has her claws clutching on him and made Jason wonder why the hell his bed isn't as comfy whenever he's trying to sleep but is when he tries to wake up.

He almost fell asleep again, but the *Bam! Bam! Bam!* on his door made him jolt up from the bed, the gun that he hides between the mattress and the bed in his hand, walking to the living room without making a sound, looking through the peep hole.

He huffed in relief, opening the door looking at Dick who smiled at him. "You woke me up you asshole"

"Sorry little wing" But Dick didn't sounded sorry at all and that just made him groan.

Jason followed Dick to the kitchen after Dick let himself in, the door closing behind them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't visit my little brother?"

"Not your brother" Jason turned around to the pantry to take out a tea bag just when Dick flinched from the words as if they're physically harming him.

"You're my brother, even if you don't see it like that"

"Dick."

"No! You're my brother, I count you as my brother" Dick snap and Jason would lie if he said that that didn't touched his heart, even if it's not true because in the end Dick have his new little brother and also a sister and it's really is fine that Jason isn't part of his family. It is.

So he didn't reply to it, just let Dick think what he wants to. "Do you want to tell me why you actually came or what?" He asked as he started to boil water.

"I wanted to talk to you"

"About?"

"You said you'd this case, how's it going?"

Jason took the teapot off the gas, pouring the hot water to his glass, "I didn't told anyone that I've a case"

"Well no but Babs told me"

"Babs don't know, and she would have asked if she wanted to know" Jason took a sip from his cup and turned around to glare at the older man "What it really is about?"

"Bruce saw you with Harley and Ivy and their kid and he wants to know what you all doing"

Jason saw red for a moment and them took a calming breath, a long sip from his tea and walked his way toward the island, putting his mug down and glaring at his so called brother.

"So you're here on a mission?" His voice was cold and full with venom.

"N-no!"

Jason raised an eyebrow "You just said it"

"I don't care what B wanted, I came for my brother"

"Damian isn't here"

"Jason!"

"What? You want me to say that you didn't came because Bruce said something on me? You don't want to know what I'm doing with Harley, Ivy and their kid? Ah? That's what you're telling me?"

"I-"

"Ha! And you just said we're brothers!"

"We are Jason"

"No! You have your own little family, I'm not part of it, never was!"

"You are! You always were and you always will be!"

And at that moment Jason saw green, throwing his mug down on the island, the shatterd flew everywhere and the hot water started to drip down to the floor.

And as a last resort Dick yelled "TIM DRAKE!"

It made Jason blink, and look at Dick, "What did you just said?"

"Tim Drake, it's this boy Joker kidnapped, Harley and Ivy's kid"

"How do you know this?"

"Well, family of detectives and all"

"What do you want?"

"Is he threating you?"

"What? No!"

"Jay, you can tell me the truth"

"Oh I can?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Okay so fuck off"

"Wh-what?"

"The truth is that I want you to fuck off and don't ever come back. Bye."

"..Jay.."

"I'll throw you out of the window"

"Okay, okay. But.."

"Go!" _____________________________________________

Tim sat on an air conditioner motor that was on the roof of a building, his legs tangling down, one shoe red with zigzag lines on it and the other one yellow with glitters. His pants in a fading green colour and a black-blue t-shirt. And Jason just looked, glad that his helmet hiding his face as a stupid smile crossed his face.

"Hoodie hood!" Tim's cheerful voice made Jason's smile wider, and Tim pushed himself of the air conditioner motor, when his feet touched the roof his yellow shoe started to sparkle with light, like little kids shoes.

"Hey clown kid" Tim smiled, something sweet and beautiful that made butterflies fly in Jason's belly.

"I don't like this helmet today" Tim said, his hands touching lightly at the sides of the red helmet.

"And why's that?"

"I can't see your hair. I love your hair!"

Jason smiled, Tim was just... just.

"Thanks baby clown, I love your hair too"

"Baby clown?"

"Yup"

"I like it"

"Good"

Tim took Jason's hand in his and started walking them to the air conditioner motor.

They both sat down, Tim's hands now in his lap and Jason opened his helmet, setting it next to him.

Tim looked at him, his blue icy eyes glinted and a small smile on his face. Jason looked right back at him, the blue-green eyes looking like some amazing place that kids are being told about in fairy tales.

Jason don't know who moved first, or what exactly happened. All he knows is that Tim is sitting in his lap, Tim's hands in his hair and Jason hugging him close. There mouths pressing against each other's. Tim's mouth have this amazing chocolate taste, a hint of coffee and Tim.

In the dark sky above of them, the fireworks draw the 18 days.

_____________________________________________

Jason is happy. Like really truly happy. He couldn't stop smiling this stupid love sick smile since the kiss.

He met Tim every patrol and those small kiss were the best, 10/10 would definitely do again.

Tim's cute and smart and he seems to really like Jason which is amazing because Jason really like him too.

None of the Bats came to annoy him, and everything is just amazing. For once in his life everything is just good.

His grapple gun shot to the next building and the cold wind never felt better. As Red Hood's boots hit the roof a "Hey there, love bird" greeted him.

"Cat," He called back, doing a small '*hi*' with his hand "'sup?"

"We need to talk"

"About?"

"Tim"

Jason sat next to her, his legs tangling down from the roof, "You here to give me the talk?"

"Not the talk you think about, I'll that to his moms"

"Then what talk?"

"Are you serious with him?"

"For now.. for now yes" he said with a bit hesitation.

Selina nodded "That's good for me"

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome sweetie, anyway you nrrd to be careful with Timmy"

"I know that, I wasn't born yesterday Cat"

She huffed a laugh, "Oh I know that sweetie, but you still need to know about Tim's past"

"Isn't he supposed to tell me about it? In his own time?"

"He will, I'm going to tell you only things that he won't because it's a trigger for him"

"The torture?"

"Yes, the torture, and what lead to his kidnapping, and it'll give you an idea yo what his parents were like"

Jason looked at her in the eyes, seriousness burns in them. "Okay, let's hear the story" _____________________________________________

His parents left again, it has been hours since the screaming stopped, his cheeks were wet from tears and his eyes red.

He was hiding in the closet, his hands holding his stuffed Kola close, his left arm is numb except for the cut on it, but it's a small cut and he deserved it. He isn't supposed to talk back to his father.

The dry blood on his arm itched and he needs to treat the cut, but he don't want to move. The closest is a safe place because mother and father can't get in.

New tears slipping down his face and he hugs the Kola tighter.

_____________________________________________

When Tim woke up his neck hurt and his left arm felt like a million fire ants stung her.

He opened the closest door, stumbling out of there holding the Kola in one hand, dropping it on his bed and walking to the bathroom, pulling the first aid kit from under the sink, treating his wound with a hiss of pain.

A quick glance out of the window and he knows it's in the middle of the night, and his parents were supposed to stay home for more couple of days but once again they just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But he doesn't have something to do now, and his arm's fine, he can go out and see Batman, and maybe Robin too. Though Robin isn't around a lot now, maybe something happened... _____________________________________________

The streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

The cold wind hit him merciless, but it just made him smile, he loves the winter. It always made him feel better with himself.

His camera clutched in his hands, his black stocking cap falling on his eyes every couple of minutes, and yes it may be annoying but it's also letting him something to do, because tonight he can't find Batman...

What the hour anyway? Maybe he's late and Batman's back in the cave...

And then he could hear it, some quiet voice singing.. Maybe a kid.. What if the kid need help?

"Hello?' he called out, moving closer to the voice, he can hear the words now.

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

He cried out, pain strobes through all hid body, tears on his face and blood run down his chine and neck

This psycho laugh making him shiver and try to run away. This hateful song in the background..

And this voice.. "Come on Little Lamb, be a good son for little old me, and tell me. What's. Your. Name?"

"T-Tim"

He screamed as he got electriced again. _____________________________________________

He is shacking, scared out of his mind, tears rolling down his face. And it doesn't stop.

He can barely breathe, the electrical shock isn't stopping. And Tim is honest to God scared.

He don't know what's next to come, he can't actually believe it's happening and everything- everything hurt.

He can feel himself leaving his body, his heart- _____________________________________________

He woke up, everything is hurting again and the fucking Joker is looking at him, this psychotic smile on his face-

"Welcome back my Little Lamb"

-And this horrible song again

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

"What's your name?"

"Tim!" _____________________________________________

"What's. Your. Name?"

"Ti-" _____________________________________________

"Your name?"

He don't even* know *anymore, and it's really frustrating... _____________________________________________

He is laughing. A manic good laugh. Happy laugh.

He's happy because he remembers who he is and it's funny- why did he forgot anyway?

"What's your name?"

"JJ!" _____________________________________________

He laughed as his dad cut his face open do he'll always smile. He laughed as dad throw him to the acid. He laughed as dad painted his hair.

He laughed and he laughed, and laughed and laughed-

But it's not funny anymore- dad isn't here and his hair is black... JJ scowled at the mirror, dad don't like his hair black. He like green. Yes, green hair and purple suit, and red- red, red, red blood. And it's funny- everything funny so hr laughs, but the mirror- The shattered glass flew everywhere and it's so funny that he can't stop laughing-

"Timothy!" Mother's standing by the door, she looks horrified.. it's not funny anymore- it's not-

He can't breathe, he stumbles backwards, tears rolling down his face and he. Can't. Stop. Laughing. _____________________________________________

One night he heard his mother and father talking. It's not fine, but what is fine anymore? He's finally Tim but he's also JJ and it's so confusing.

"I can't look at him anymore Jack, he is pathetic!"

"I know Janet, don't worry"

Tim chokes a whimper. _____________________________________________

The next week Ivy and Harley found Tim trying to drown himself and took him in... _____________________________________________

Jason took in a deep breath, his eyes wet and his heart ache for his little clown.

"It's..."

Catwoman gave him a small smile, "A lot? I know. Those are once of the memories Tim still have"

"I'm- I can't even-" Cat smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

The words 13 Days shined in the sky above them.

_____________________________________________

"Hood" Oracle's voice filled his helmet.

"O, how many times do I need to ask you not to hack my helmet?"

Oracle completely ignored him "How's Tim been?"

Jason swallow, he forgot that Babs is actually one of those people who really care about Tim (and him. Because Babs amazing).

"He's been good, happy" Just like Jason. It's like they feel the same thing. He can see Babs smile in his mind at that, like something changed in the weather just because of what he said, and it pulled a smile in his face.

"That's good, how are you?"

"Same as Tim"

And now he can hear her smile when she talks "I'm happy to hear that."

"How are you O? Does Dick head annoying you? 'cuz I can beat him if you need"

O snorted, "Two days sleeping on the sofa and he'll be begging for my forgiveness"

Jason laughed. And they kept talking about nothing for two more minutes, before Babe had to go.

And that's when Jason shot his grapple to another roof and went flying in the sky, the feeling of happiness all over his body.

But it all stopped when hr heard it.

It came straight out of his nightmares, something from his deepest fears.

This manic laugh. Joker's laugh.

And no just no. Thete's no way this stupid fucker got out again.

He dropped to the ground with a thud sound, looking for the fucker but instead seeing a group of teenagers, kicking someone on the ground.. someone who couldn't stop laughing like the Joker and his heart stopped beating for a second when he realised who it is.

A shot noise ripped through the air and the teens stopped, looking back at the red hood holding a gun at one of them.

All he needed to do wad to say "Go. Away" and the teens ran away, leaving Tim on the ground, hugging his legs to his chest, blood and tears mixed together on his face, and he couldn't breathe because the laughing wouldn't stop.

Jason hurried to him, helping him to sit up and uncurl himself, unable to look over Tim's face since he wouldn't let him.

"Tim, sweetie, my baby clown," Jason kissed his cheek, hugging him close to him "It's me, remember? Red Hood"

And at that Tim's head moved, looking up at him. Eyes full of tears and his face twitched in this manic smile, blood dripping down from the now open cuts in his chicks to his chin.

"Timmy babe, can you hear me?" He received a small and hesitate nod that he took as yes.

"Can you give me your hands?" He asked, showing Tim his gloved hands. The smaller man put his hands in his, feeling the fabric.

Tim relaxed, his eyes fixed on the red helmet, the tears stopped rolling down his face.

The laughing quiet down a bit, but still were there.

"You remember me, right? We are friends, hell I'm hoping even more than friends"

Tim nodded, but Jason wasn't sure what he was agreeing with so he just kept talking.

"We have this amazing plan, because you are my little smarty boy right?"

Tim could take in a breath and that was good, he wasn't laughing anymore but he also didn't talk exactly, just watched Jason and every couple of seconds squeezed one of his hands (never the both of them together for some reason).

"Hell I even kissed you that night and it was the greatest thing in the whole world baby clown"

"No." Tim's tiny voice waved on the air.

"Hah?" If Tim didn't like Jason like that... It would be ok, he will be heart breaked for a few days but he would be fine at the end... Somehow.

"I kissed you" Tim said, looking at him with this witty little smile that Jason grew to love so much.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah" a small smile tug on Jason's lips, and their lips met. It was amazing just like the first time they kissed, and it sent sparkles down Jason's body.

And after a minute he let go, both of them taking deep breath.

"Come on baby clown, let's go to my home"

Tim took his hand and he pulled him up, hugging the smaller man.

The words 7 Days exploded in the sky exactly when they reached Jason's apartment.

_____________________________________________

Waking up with Tim by his side is amazing.

The smaller man was curled next to him, a hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The long black hair messed up but still so beautiful. Tim's face relaxed, a samll smile on his face.

Last night Jason gave him one of his own shirts, and the younger basically swam in the white shirt.

Jason looked at the paler than normal skin that was now available. It was in the same colour of the shirt.

He pulled Tim closer to him, kissing the beautiful man's forehead and closing his eyes.

Immediately going back to the welcoming blackness of sweat dreamless sleep. _____________________________________________

The next time he woke up was because Tim wasn't next to him.

Jason didn't know exactly why he woke up because of that, but the moment Tim's weight left his body his eyes snapped open, meating beautiful blue eyes.

Tim smiled at him, a sleepy smile. His hair a whole lot of mess and Jason's heart beated faster as he smiled back.

The sun was already in the middle of the sky and the clock on the wall said it was already one A.M.

"Mornin' Jay" Tim whispered.

"Morning baby clown" _____________________________________________

They ate together, silence surrounding them in the most comfortable way.

Jason couldn't exactly point it out but something about Tim made him.... just feel whole. Like he didn't felt since he woke up six feet deep.

Both of them were in Jason clothes and Jason found out that for some unknown reason, white looked better at pale skin.

And Tim.. Tim was the most beautiful human he saw. His blue eyes, his black long hair, and this perfect smile. Jason started asking what he fucking did right to get this angel. _____________________________________________

He didn't knew how it happened but Tim's hot wet mouth was on him and he was practically in heaven.

His hands gripped the black hair and pulled slightly, making Tim moan and himself gasping as the moans vibrate on him.

He was definitely in heaven and this angel between his legs was the most perfect thing to ever happen to him.

"Oh God" he said and moaned Tim's name, his legs shacking.

"Tim I'm about to-" and with that he came down Tim's throat, the angel swallowed it and looked him in the eyes, giving him this beautiful smile. And well, Jason might die happy this time around. _____________________________________________

This night he hugged Tim closed to him, the smaller man hugging him back.

Outside the words 6 Days colored the black sky with pink, green and yellow.

_____________________________________________

It was simple. Very simple, and Jason did it already so why the hell is he freaking out?

Harley and Ivy started a riot somewhere in the city while Catwoman helped them in Arkham and said that she's going to take care of the security. So from there they were alone.

And it wasn't like he didn't knew the plane by heart, it's just that it really is happening. He's going to kill the Joker. They're going to kill the Joker.

And it's not a dream. The mother fucking clown is going to laugh for the last time. _____________________________________________

Each floor has a minimum of two guards, thanks to Killer Croc Arkham was down six guards, so floors 1-3 only had one guard each during the day (Because Gotham’s criminals are all geniuses and think that night is the best time for a breakout).

So doubling up only happened at night on these floors until the guards either recovered or replacements were vetted and hired.

Floors 4-5 had double guards at all times and floor 6 was more storage and extra holding cells than anything else right now.

Thanks to Harley and Ivy's riot there weren't a lot of guards where they were, everyone waiting to catch the two. Catwoman didn't lied about helping them from afar as every door opened to them without problems. _____________________________________________

The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, Jason noted that there weren't any guards around, wondering what Catwoman did as he heard the muffled noise of an alarm from the floor above them.

Jason walked to the guard station and peeked in to see two men slumped over and unconscious. From the looks of it they have been knocked out, 'help from afar ha?' he thought to himself, smiling a little. Looking over at Tim, the little clown being too quite for so long, the teen smiled, his skin somehow more pale than normal, and his gun at hand. Jason nodded to him and Tim did the peace sign.

They followed a hallway around behind the booth and came up on a large metal door. They waited couple of seconds and the door opened, revealing another hallway with another large metal door several yards down. There were three such doors in their's way and each one opened and closed behind them, making them closer and closer to the goal.

Jason paused and took a deep breath before the final door. This is it. This stupid clown is as good as dead. The door opened.

And there was the Joker, laying on a thin metal like bed that was bolted to the wall.

All that stood between them and the Joker was a wall of bulletproof wall with several inches thick with small round air holes cut evenly to allow air to flow into the (if it could even be called that) room.

The Joker slowly rolled off the bed when he saw them, and came to stand in front of the clear wall, a sick smile on his face. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Visitors? Oh, I know you!" He said as he looked at Tim, his grin getting wider "You're my little lamb. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!”

Jason's heart started to beat faster, looking at Tim's hand gripping the gun so tight that his fingers turned whiter than usual.

"I'm not" Tim said, his voice quite.

"What did you said little lamb? Talk louder for papa"

Tim smiled, a small smile that made Jason question if he's going to follow the plan or not.

And of he really think about it, he was never told about this part of the plan... How will they kill the Joker?

"JJ?"

"I'm not a fucking lamb you old fucker" Tim said and shoot.

#jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #the joker #joker junior #Tim Drake #harelyquinn #poison ivy #Selina Kyle #fluff #angst #falling in love #this is so long #JayTim #thanks for reading #it took me so long because i got adiccted to anime

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illegal-spiegel · 4 years ago

Text

To Love a Jerk

Pairing: Neito Monoma x gn!reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: getting shot, mention of blood Summary: you and Monoma have always butted heads but things take a turn when class 1-A is attacked by the League of Villains Word Count: 2.4k words

It wasn’t always like this.

At one point, you and Monoma were good friends. Then, entrance exams came around and you somehow made it into class 1-A while he was stuck in 1-B. It honestly didn’t make any sense to you. People like Mineta can be in class 1-A while other people with amazing quirks and skills are in lower classes? Maybe Mineta will be better once he acts more courageously.

Either way, the school splitting you up like this wasn’t a problem for you but it was for Monoma. He’s always been prideful and being put in a lower class rather than being with other top students wounded his pride. In return, he pokes and prods at class 1-A. Luckily for you, his teasings directed at you are normally just playful because while he doesn’t like being a ‘lesser’ to you, he still remembers the friendship that you two once shared.

You actually got into UA under recommendation and passed the entrance exams with flying colors. Because of this, you were in the top three of your class, alongside Bakugo and Todoroki. For some reason though, Mr. Aizawa pushes you harder than the other two. Maybe because he sees your potential and wants to help you improve. Who knows. Either way, you don’t appreciate being worn down like this every day.

After practicing out in the field with your class, you all make your way back inside. Once inside, he lets you have a restroom and water break before returning to the classroom. You’re currently gulping down water like you just got out of being in the desert for a week when Monoma comes over to you and the others that were waiting for water.

“Wow, you guys look tired. I can’t believe class 1-A is so weak! You were out there for, what, an hour? How pathetic!” You pull your head away from the fountain, turning to look at him. Once he sees you, he goes quiet for a moment before smirking and walking over to you. “Aww, what’s wrong, (Y/n)? Are you tired? Want me to fetch you a towel for all that sweat and dirt on you?” he coos.

You sigh and roll your eyes, not really feeling in the mood to be putting up with him right now. “You sure are talking big but we both know that if I wanted to, I could still wipe the floor with you in this state,” you say boldly, staring at him with fierce eyes. His smirk falls and he stares back at you quietly for a couple of seconds.

“You do realize that I can just copy your quirk and then it would be a pointless fight, right?” he replies, quirking a brow up at you. You aren’t sure why you decided to say this next. Normally, you would never say such things to him, or anyone else for that matter. It’s just that you’re so tired, you hurt all over, and your head is too hot, making it hard to think straight.

“Yeah, you’re right. It would be pointless because you don’t have your own quirk. You have to steal other’s quirks just to fight. How does that feel? Being so unoriginal, I mean.” As soon as you finish, you want to take the words right back. Everyone stares at you both, looking between you two in complete and utter shock.

Luckily for him and unluckily for you, Kendo comes over to save the day for Momona before you can apologize. “C’mon, Monoma. Stop tormenting class 1-A,” she says weakly, looking at him with concern. She’s never seen him like this. No one has.

He’s silent.

Monoma just stares at you in silence, hurt shining in his eyes. If anyone else insulted him, he would’ve laughed cockily and fired something back. He never thought you would ever say such things to him. He looks over at Kendo and nods before walking outside with the rest of his class since it’s now their turn to go out.

You sigh and close your eyes, guilt and shame filling you to the brim. Stupid, stupid is what you are. “(Y/n)? We are walking back to class now,” you hear Deku softly call out to you. You turn away from the door that leads outside and turn to look at him, smiling weakly at him as you walk with him back to class.

After that day, he refused to come and talk, or torment, you. It was eating you alive inside. There was no “Need some help with your homework, (Y/n)? You’ve never really been the sharpest tool in the shed.” or “Hey, (Y/n). I got a ninety-eight on my quiz whereas you got a ninety-seven. How does it feel to be such a sore loser?” He always used his insults as an excuse to talk to you and to even help you with said homework or something else that was ‘embarrassing’ for you.

He still talked to the other 1-A students though, continuing to make fun of them and the like. His insults were actually worse than usual. You decided after the third day of him not talking to you that enough is enough. You were determined to corner him and talk to him after school.

Today, your class was to go to USJ and practice your skills for saving and helping people from natural disasters. You were actually pretty excited to be able to work on these abilities. Well, that is until the League of Villains appeared. They separated you all and caused havoc amongst all the students.

After fighting through villain after villain after villain, you and some of the others finally reached the source. The villain had hands all over him along with a dressed-up villain with a purple smoke-like substance emitting from him. All Might was fighting tooth and nail to beat some bird looking figure.

It took a little while for things to start looking up and you started to believe that the good guys will win. You even helped to stop the bad guys and you’ve never felt more proud of yourself. You helped save All Might!

It all came crashing down though when a villain with gun barrels for fingers fired shots at your group. You were hit and you honestly didn’t feel it at first because of the adrenaline. The villains warped away, letting you collapse to the ground and relax. Once your adrenaline started to subside though, it was the worst pain you’d ever felt in your entire life. You ended up blacking out from all the pain.

When you woke up, you were in a bare white room, which you figured out was a hospital. You shift your position a bit and then feel it. You turn to see Monoma sitting in a chair with his head on your bed, his eyes closed as he peacefully sleeps. You sigh and gently place your hand on his blond locks, planning on running your fingers through the silky strands.

That is until he pops up the second you touch him. He stands up with a shout of your name, his chest heaving with each heavy breath that he dragged in. “Are you insane? What were you thinking? What part of ‘top bad guys’ made it seem like a good idea to fight them?” he shouts.

You stare up at him with a blank expression as he yells before a smile starts to break out on your face. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” you reply teasingly. He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, glaring sharply down at you.

“I know you’re fine, you dope! The nurses who have to keep checking on you because you decided to do something stupid told me as much!” he snidely replies back. You bite your lip, trying to stop smiling. He’s honestly such a dork. Instead of saying he’s worried about you and he’s glad you’re okay, he insults you.

It goes on like that for a while until a nurse finally comes in and tells him to lower his voice. The nurse, seeing you’re awake now, goes to get the doctor. The doctor explains you were shot and lost a lot of blood, but they got you here in time and were able to save you. You didn’t realize how serious it was until the doctor finished telling you everything. She then tells you that you’ll have to stay at the hospital for a little while to make sure that there are no complications.

“You know, you’re very lucky to have such a kind boyfriend. He made sure you were always wrapped up in a blanket, the window open to give you light and fresh air, and—”

“Okay! Thank you, doctor!” he hisses, a blush spreading across his face. The doctor chuckles as she and the nurse leave, teasing smiles on their face. You turn to look at Monoma with a raised brow and a smirk. Before you can tease him though, he’s standing up again and grumbles out, “Are you hungry? Thirsty? You were out for quite a while. I’ll go get you something since your weak body can’t handle it.” He then walks to the door before quickly leaving, your giggles following him out.

He visits you every day and even stays when your whole class comes to visit you. “Look at that, I didn’t think Monoma liked anyone,” Denki teases. Monoma’s face lights up as dark as Kirishima’s hair.

“Look at that, I didn’t think you knew so many words,” he hisses back at Denki.

“Monoma,” you say in warning. He turns to look at you before huffing and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “He didn’t mean that. He’s just in a pissy mood,” you excuse for Monoma. Denki didn’t seem to mind one bit as he grins, turning to look at Sero and Kirishima before making a whip sound. Monoma opens his mouth to give a snide remark, placing his hand on the bed to help him stand up. You place your hand over his though, successfully stopping him. He instantly shuts his mouth and stares down at your hand.

You then notice that Deku isn’t there amongst your peers. Once you ask where he is, everyone explains that he, once again, went too far and injured himself. You hum in understanding, knowing how reckless Deku can be. The class catches you up on what you’ve missed out on as they leave their flowers, balloons, cards, and the like all over your room. You thank them for visiting as they leave, your eyes moving to Monoma once they’re gone.

He remained quiet the entire time and still appeared to have a blush on his face since you kept your hand over his. “We really need to work on that temper of yours,” you tease, giggling as a pout comes to his lips.

Once you’re finally released from the hospital, he takes you home and makes sure you are 110% fine before finally leaving. When you come back to school, everyone is ecstatic to see you back. Everything goes back to normal after that.

Well, except for the fact that Monoma follows you around like a lost puppy now. At first, you thought it was cute. I mean, he wasn’t the only one worried about you. After a while though, he was the only one still fretting over everything you do. You didn’t want him treating you like glass anymore, so after school one day, you confronted him.

He’s walking you home like always, making sure there’s nothing blocking your path as you two walk. “Monoma, why do you treat me like porcelain?” you ask, coming to a stop as he moves a branch out of the way for you. He pauses and turns to look at you, acting like a deer caught in headlights.

“Well, it’s not my fault that you’re so weak. It was pathetic how you—”

“You need to stop,” you interrupt, crossing your arms over your chest. He stands up straight after moving the branch off to the side.

“Stop what? Helping you? You always complained that I’m not nice to you and now you’re saying I’m being too nice? Make up your mind,” he says after scoffing. You sigh and walk over to him, coming to stand in front of him.

“Monoma, please. Talk to me. Why are you acting like this? It’s been weeks since I was shot. Why are you still treating me like this?” He turns to face you, his eyes seeming to shine under the sun.

“Because I…” he trails off, looking away from you once more and starting to walk away.

“No, Monoma. We are talking about this,” you command, taking a hold of his arm. He spins around and turns to face you, suddenly in your personal space.

“Because I care about you, (Y/n)! As soon as I heard what had happened, I felt like someone punched me in the gut. I suddenly couldn’t breathe and I prayed to god for the first time in years. I prayed that you were okay, that you wouldn’t die before I could tell you how I feel,” he says in one go, gasping for air when he finishes.

Your brows furrow though, this explanation not clearing anything up for you. “How you fe—” He cuts you off with his lips, deciding to show you instead of telling you how he feels. Your eyes go wide at the sudden kiss, your heart trying to jump out of your chest. You close your eyes to return the kiss but before you can, he pulls back and stares into your eyes once you open them again.

“I love you, okay? Jeez, how stupid are you?” he breathes. You can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl, tugging him back in for another kiss. He wraps his arms around you with a low hum, a breeze blowing through you both and making his hair tickle your forehead. The kiss is sweet and loving, your lips sharing the words that you two have always had trouble saying.

“You did it again. Is it that hard for you to say something to me without insulting me?” you ask once you two pull back. He scoffs and tightens his grip on you, his eyes playfully squinting at you.

“Is it so hard for you to say it back?” he sasses, a smirk coming to his face. You bite your lip and bring one of your hands away from his chest to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I love you too, jerk.”

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