#Pro Plus Plan

[reineydraws]

i have this fic series i'm still working on where mihawk sort of becomes rayleigh's kid and spends ages 11-17ish on the oro jackson.

shanks and buggy imprint on him (bugs considers him a sort of older brother figure/sparring inspiration and shanks has a crush that eventually turns into full-blown love) and this is how i imagine they're like on the day mihawk sets off on his own haha.

[skunkes]

still so crazy to me that people grow out of drawing

[nonuggetshere]

Contemplating making quirrelhollow canon to Usurper AU

[mmriesoftvat]

.

[tired-momfriend]

Hey, I officially am graduated and finished with my bachelor's in biology!! Whoopee!

... now what :/

[zyhkoo]

☆ everything i know about love

dick grayson and jason todd x fem!reader (separate)

they drunkenly propose

a/n: i was inspired by this fic my friend showed me, i hope you guys like this one!

Jason todd

Jason never understood the fuss about marriage. Just a piece of jewelry and some vows, and you're suddenly yoked to someone for life. No thanks. He had more important things to worry about than tying the knot. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom far too much to be tied down like that.

Why commit to one person when the world is full of interesting people to meet and adventures to be had? Jason preferred to live life on his own terms, without the constraints of a ring on his finger.

His secret identity as Red Hood only added to the list of reasons why marriage didn't fit into Jason's plans. His life was dangerous and unpredictable, and he couldn't risk the safety of a loved one by involving them in his shadowy world. Plus, balancing a marriage and a secret life as a crime-fighter would be nearly impossible. It was better for everyone involved if Jason continued his nocturnal escapades alone.

Surprisingly enough, Jason found himself softening his stance while dating you. It wasn’t like he suddenly became a relationship enthusiast overnight, but he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his perspective.

Though marriage still seemed like a far-off possibility, Jason realized that a fulfilling relationship didn't necessarily require a ring. He was content with the way things were, cherishing the connection he had with you and the moments they shared. The idea of a wedding might still make him a bit nervous, but he knew what mattered most was the happiness you shared in the present.

As the buzz about your relationship grew, the questions about when you were getting married started to come up more frequently. Your friends would throw subtle hints during conversations, or nosy family members would outright ask, expecting a firm timeline. Jason felt the pressure, too. The constant reminders of marriage were like a nagging voice in the back of his mind, pushing him to make a decision he wasn’t ready for. The pressure was mounting, but Jason stubbornly held onto his reservations.

Then, it hit him. Wedding fever.

The last wedding the two of you attended was your best friend’s. You couldn't believe it when you accidentally caught the bouquet at your best friend's wedding. It was just a silly tradition, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought. Little did you know, the effect of the bouquet would hit someone unexpected: Jason.

Suddenly, the mere touch of that bouquet ignited a strange fervor within him. A fever for the idea of marriage, something he had vehemently opposed in the past. Jason watched as your friends and family playfully teased you about catching the bouquet, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, dumbfounded, as if the sight of you with that bouquet had somehow changed everything.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and newfound desire. How could a simple bouquet have such an impact on him? He was the guy who never wanted to get married, and now he was practically salivating at the thought. What was happening to him?

When he had too much to drink, you dragged him back to the hotel room.

You gently pulled Jason into the hotel room, his body leaning heavily against yours as the alcohol dulled his senses. You decided to undress him so he'd be more comfortable, unbuttoning his polo shirt while his breath tickled your neck. But as you reached the last button, Jason suddenly leaned forward and pressed a desperate, hungry kiss against your lips.

You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you couldn't resist the passion behind the kiss. You returned his kiss, your lips responding tenderly and gently meeting him. As he pulled away, your heart skipped a beat as Jason looked into your eyes, his words slurred but his gaze steady. "Marry me," he said.

Here he was, the man who had once been so skeptical about marriage, proposing to you in the midst of a drunken stupor. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you were absolutely baffled. You stammered, trying to find the right words to say. “What?” you muttered.

"I said, marry me," he repeated as he gripped your wrist. “M’ serious," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You couldn't help but stand there with your mouth open, in disbelief at the words that were coming out of his mouth. This was the same man who had been adamantly against the idea of marriage just a few hours ago, and now he was drunkenly proposing to you! Jason's lips grazed against your fingers, his breath warm and words slurred but still filled with a sweet intensity. "Come on," he muttered, clinging to your hand. "Just say yes."

You could feel the nerves in your voice as you struggled to find the right words. "Wow, uh...I'd love to say yes, but maybe we should call it a day first. Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Jason's eyes softened as he looked at you, his drunken state making it difficult for him to comprehend your words. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "In the morning," he repeated, his voice slurring. "But m’ serious, I do want to marry you." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know you're serious," you said softly, gently stroking his hair. "We'll talk about it in the morning, when you're sober, okay?"

Dick Grayson

It all began with a simple birthday surprise from Dick– a beautiful white cake that bore an uncanny resemblance to a wedding dress. Unintentionally, it planted the seed of wedding fever in Dick's mind. Slowly, the realization dawned upon him, sparking a subtle yet determined desire to make his love for you official.

Dick found himself wrestling with how to broach the subject. While you had occasionally mentioned a future together, marriage had never explicitly entered the picture in your conversations. He pondered how to bring up the idea without catching you off guard.

Late one night, after an evening of bonding with his siblings over a few drinks, Dick returned to the cozy abode he shared with you. In his grip, he clutched a single daisy, its delicate white petals gently swayed with each movement. As he stepped inside, he revealed a paper ring resting on his palm, its simplicity belying the depth of emotion he wanted to convey.

You looked down at the paper ring in Dick's hand with puzzlement in your eyes. "What is this?" you asked. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw your confused eyes. He took a step closer, the petals of the flower trailing across your skin. A gentle smile played on his lips as he slurred, “It’s a ring, f’ course.”

He held the ring up, offering it to you. “I want to…” he trails his words. “You want to..?” you continued his sentence. He looks into your eyes, the paper ring still offered in his hand. He’s taking in the sight of you, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old t-shirts, with your hair messy on your head.

“I… I want to marry you,” he says quietly.

You replied quickly, “Sure.” you said casually. A hint of surprise flickered in Dick's eyes. He had braced himself for a range of potential reactions, but this one had caught him off guard. Dick's mouth hung open for a moment, and for a split second he was at a loss for words. "Sure?" he repeated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and a touch of confusion. He looked at you in slight surprise, his mind processing the unexpected simplicity of your response.

“Yeah,” you replied as you held his hand. “Let’s get married.”

His mind raced, trying to process the unexpected simplicity of your response. He’d been expecting a little bit more discussion, maybe even some tears, yet here you were, casually agreeing to his impromptu proposal. He stared down at you, a mix of surprise and elation flooding his expression. He looked at your hand holding his thumb running against the back of your hand.

“Just like that?” he chuckled, a bit breathlessly. You only smiled softly, “Why wouldn’t I marry someone like you?” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

He looked down at the paper ring on his hand, then back at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he took your hand in his, and placed the ring upon your finger. “Now it’s official,” he chuckled, looking down at the simple paper ring on your finger.

💍 discord server please like and reblog!

[rosepetals-v]

Never mind, I'm reading rn.

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Sleeves

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings: Quinn thinking you're hot af, so slightly mature in that sense but nothing extreme.

Summary: Jersey sleeves are just a little too long for you.

Notes: Reader is described as short but not a specific height. I, a short person, could be wrong here, but I assume the taller you are the longer your arms are hense the height focus in this fic. Also it's a 43 Hughes jersey not Quinn's own one because we're all different sizes and I don't want anyone to be unable to imagine it, y'know????

Had this idea cause my Jack Jersey has super long sleeves and it makes me feel safe and silly (I'm getting a Quinn jersey for X-mas from my brother and i'm very excited)

It's baffling actually, when you really think about it, that you'd been dating a pro-Hockey player for nearly 8 months and hadn't owned a single jersey until now. Sure, Quinn had tried to convince you to just borrow one of his, his desire to see you in his jersey practically an obsession, but half the time they were sweat stained and stinky and you kind of just wanted one designed for you and your body. So you'd gone to his games in just your normal clothes, sometimes you wore the stupid t-shirt Jack and Luke got you with Quinn's face on it for your birthday, but you'd never worn a hockey jersey.

This had seemed a shame and you'd decided enough was enough. You went to all Quinn's home games and tried to go to as many away games as possible, you thought that surely you should, as a dutiful girlfriend wear a #43 jersey. It felt wrong, somehow, not to have at least one, to wear one at least once.

So you'd bought one, taken your time considering which version to get, which size you preferred. You hadn't told Quinn because any time you wanted to buy something for yourself he always did it for you, claiming he had more money than he knew what to do with. As sweet as it was, sometimes you wanted to spend your own hard earned money. Plus, you'd wanted it to be a surprise. It was practically on his bucket list at this point, it felt like something...big.

So you'd kept it quiet, bought a #43 Hughes black skate jersey in a size just this side of too big, oversized for the comfort factor. What you hadn't anticipated was how you felt wearing it...or Quinn's reaction.

It was just fabric, just a jersey but the moment you slipped it on you felt...safe. The fabric was soft against your skin, not tight or claustrophobic and the sleeves...oh the sleeves were your favourite part. You were short, that was a fact of life, you hadn't grown upwards since you were 14 and you'd made your peace with it. Didn't really have a choice, given that you spent all your time around hockey players. Some of whom were absolute giants, Meyers came straight to mind. Quinn was considered a smaller player in the business and even he made you feel short. Being short, had the effect though of making the sleeves of your jersey gigantic.

You couldn't really describe the sheer joy you felt when the sleeves went past your fingertips absolutely swallowing your hands. You felt like a little kid again, you felt comfy, and safe. Maybe it was scratching some sort of anxiety itch in your brain or maybe it was that you'd missed this feeling from when you were a kid, the feeling of being so so small that everything else felt giant, but you loved it either way.

Your plan was to hide the jersey until Quinn's next game, ready to surprise him when he looked for you during warmups, ready for him to realise you were finally wearing his name and number. Something he'd been not so subtly pushing for months every single time he conveniently left a jersey out next to your game day clothes before he left for the rink.

The moment he left for the game after a goodbye kiss and some I love yous, you'd put the jersey he'd left on the bed away (no matter how many times he washed it it still had the lingering smell of hockey...) and reached into the back of the wardrobe, underneath a series of boxes and miscellaneous items, for your own. You'd hidden it well, so far back, it was actually a struggling to get to.

You'd slipped it on over your jumper and layers, letting the sleeves fall over your fingertips. That familiar safe, giddy feeling filling you as you twirled in a circle in front of the mirror before dropping your shoulders, closing your eyes and just enjoying it. There was something about the physical sensation that was enjoyable, the way it felt, the sense of comfort it brought, but it went past that. It felt good to look in the mirror and see Quinn's number on your arms, across your back, his surname plastered in the large font. It felt good to wear a reminder of him.

You opened your eyes after a few moments of flapping the long sleeves about, a childish joy in the flap of fabric. Your sight snagging in the mirror on the doorframe behind you, Quinn leaning a shoulder against it, kit bag at his feet. He had softest smile on his face, the sort of smile that made his eyes crinkle gently and had his teeth poking out just so.

You spin around to face him startled, not expecting him to be back. Your fingers meeting and twisting together, hidden beneath the lengths of sleeve fabric.

"Did you...did you forget something?"

It's obvious to him that you're trying to avoid the elephant in the room, the surprise he's clearly ruined. It's not his jersey, but it is and it's all he's wanted to see you in for months now...Fuck, you look good in his jersey. You've brought it in a size that's just the right sort of oversized, swallowing familiar curves under layers of black, yellow and red fabric. How you make something that hides every part of you look so good he doesn't really understand, but he thinks that maybe that just says more about how he feels about you than anything else.

Your hands are invisible, swallowed by fabric and his name and number across your back were practically searerd into his retina. A memory pressed into the pages of his mind. It's stupid, possessive, ridiculous, caveman-ish but, fuck, he likes that you're saying you're his, likes that everyone can see it. That it's his name across your back.

"My number looks good on you..." Quinn bites down on his bottom lip, tilts his head to the side as his eyes trail over you. The way he's looking at you, you'd think you were stood there naked, not swallowed in fabric. It makes your cheeks warm.

"Quinn..." You let out and embarrassed whine, hands coming up to cover your face as he trails his way closer, feet padding softly across the carpet. His gear forgotten in the doorway, the sense of urgency to get the last piece he forgot and get to the rink, gone. Game? What game?

You feel his presence first, feet stopping close to your own, his form towering over you as he wraps his hands gently around your wrists and tugs them free from your face. He's practically grinning at you, that one strand of brunet hair falling across his brow as he leans down towards you.

"The sleeves too, you look cute in it, fuck..." He tugs on the ends of the sleeves, examining the way your hands are swallowed by the fabric. The cute wiggle of them from underneath before being swallowed whole.

"This for me, pretty girl?"

You nod, feeling oddly shy in front of him as his eyes keep following your form like he can't quiet get enough. It's surreal, you've had boyfriends who didn't even look at you like that when you were dolled to the nines, you're just in a jersey, some ordinary clothes, everything covered, nothing special, "...It was supposed to be a surprise...for tonight."

"Ah," he fills in the blanks. He's ruined it by coming back unexpectedly, because he forgot his stupid mouthguard of all things. He imagines it though, being on the ice, looking for you like he always does, his eyes gravitating towards you like he's stuck in your orbit. He can see the way you'd look in the lights of the rink, his number proudly displayed. Could see the way he'd probably stop dead on the ice, probably get a bunch of shit from the guys, can see Petey shoving him with a laugh, but he'd not care at all because you're finally wearing his jersey and he's been waiting for this for months.

"Can you, uh, never take it off?" he laughs, tugging you closer, arms wrapping around you as his fingers trail across the letters making up his name on the back. Memorising the feel of it, his name on you, finally.

"Quinn..."

"What? You look...fuck, you look so good in my jersey, baby, like...unreal..." He means it and you know he means it because he's got that sparkle in his eyes that screams his feelings out loud without a single word.

"...you have a game to get to.." you mumble, face pressing into his chest, trying to hide from him because only Quinn can make you quite this bashful after this length of time together. Only Quinn can seemingly disarm you completely.

He presses a kiss to the top of your hair, cheek pushing against the crown of your head as he rocks you side to side.

"Mmm, you're not gonna take this off, right? You're still going to wear it to the game for me, baby?" There's a little slither of fear that he might have embarrassed you, that you'll hide the jersey away somewhere and he'll never see you in it again.

"...Yeah, i'll still wear it for you..."

He thinks this might just be what he wants for the rest of his life. You in his jersey, you with his name across your back, you...with the name you might one day share proudly taking up space for everyone to see.

In that moment, he realises, he's a complete fucking goner for you. He's well and truly fucked in the best sort of way.

[heich0e]

ever since you were young, you've fallen victim to at least one terrible cold per year.

it's not your fault—your almost laughably fallible immune system is seemingly genetic, as your family was always the same growing up—but even that biological truth does little to make you feel better when you're in the thick of cough and cold season, waiting for illness to inevitably strike. one faint, meagre consolation from your predictably lacklustre immune response means that you at the very least have a fairly well-practiced routine for when you fall ill. you know the brands of medication that work best, the fever patches with the most reliable adhesion, which teas seem to help decongest you better than others. you've got soup recipes, and hot water bottles, and fuzzy socks tucked away at the ready for when you need them, because you know that you eventually will.

but this season, there's a wild card in the mix. a variable you haven't had the opportunity to plan for in years past.

shouto.

you met shouto last summer at a going away party to which you were a plus one of someone who didn't even know the person who was going away particularly well. you'd been beyond shocked when you turned up to the gathering only to see half the top pro-hero ranking list gathered before your very eyes. even more shocked when the most handsome one in the room—in the world?—bothered to speak to you.

your relationship with shouto built slowly. you were casually dating last cold season, so he hadn't had to witness you at your lowest, but this year you're living together—having moved in rather suddenly just shy of your one year anniversary since your lease was ending and shouto's apartment was more than suitable for two.

so now here you are, languishing in the bed you share with your still unfairly handsome pro-hero boyfriend, drifting in and out of consciousness in a decongestant fuelled haze, with a (now tepid) fever patch stuck to your forehead.

and there is a god awful racket coming from outside your bedroom door.

peeling yourself up from the loving embrace of your mattress is a nearly herculean task, but once you're upright it's not so hard to stuff your feet into your slippers and stumble your way to the the door. your head feels heavy and your cough is still in the nasty hacking stage, but you suspect your fever's dropping, which means the worst of your illness is likely over. any relief you may feel is decidedly shortlived as you turn the corner to the kitchen and freeze in place.

"shouto—" your voice is so raspy it sounds foreign to you "—what are you doing?"

in the kitchen, standing in the eye of what can only be described as a culinary hurricane, is your apron-clad boyfriend. he has one of your barrettes clipping his two-toned bangs up off his forehead, and a smudge of something (presumably edible) across his cheek. his eyes are wide as he turns to face you in the centre of this disaster, a carrot in one hand and a potato masher in the other.

"i," shouto pauses, and though you know it's not for dramatic effect it sure sounds like it is, "am cooking."

you start coughing, and rush to cover your mouth—turning away and bending a little at the waist from the force of it. you see shouto step towards you in your peripheral vision, but with the hand not covering your mouth you wave him away—you should have gotten a mask before you left your bedroom, but in your haste you'd forgotten to grab one.

"you sound terrible," shouto remarks and then follows up his own commentary with another, somewhat reproachful, "that's not very nice."

you look at him curiously, confused as to what he's just said and he points to his ear where he has one wireless earbud in.

"that was bakugou," he explains, and you realize he was only relaying the comment of his friend on the phone. "i'll call you back," he says again, and this time you don't need to wonder who he's speaking to before he plucks his headphone out of his ear and sets it (and the carrot and potato masher) down in the very limited counter space left.

shouto fidgets with his hands now that they're empty, inching a bit closer to you—slowly, like he know's you're going to wave him off again and is trying to avoid it.

"how are you feeling?" he asks.

"a bit better," you say, even though you don't sound it.

"why are you out of bed?" he follows up his first question with another, concern in his gaze.

"i heard... something," your eyes scan the room as you take in the very something you speak of. "why are you cooking?"

"i'm making you soup," shouto says, and then looks around the room at the scene you'd just surveyed. then he looks back at you again with a somewhat grim expression. "i'm trying to make you soup," he corrects himself.

and maybe it's the fever, or the decongestants, or the fact that he's possibly the sweetest man you've ever met in your life (on top of being the most handsome), but suddenly you feel like you might cry. or laugh, maybe. you aren't entirely sure either of them is off the table.

"what kind of soup?" you ask him, and this time your voice is croaky for an entirely unrelated reason.

"chicken soup," he answers, and he's suddenly closer than he'd been at first—having continued creeping closer to you when your guard was lowered. "with ginger. you said you like that."

"i do," you answer, and when shouto reaches out to wrap his arms around you, you have no will left in you to push him away. you tuck your face against his chest and relax against the firm, familiar shape of his body pressing into yours.

shouto peels the old fever patch from your forehead and tosses it aside, replacing it with the delightfully cool palm of his hand. he's been doing this since you fell ill, and was more than a little affronted the first time he came home from work and saw that you'd put a cooling patch on in his absence—as though jealous that it wasn't his touch that you were turning to for relief.

"was bakugou helping you make soup?" you ask, leaning into his hand.

shouto hums, and you feel the sound reverberate through his broad chest. "i don't know if helping is the right word."

"why did you have a potato masher out for chicken soup?" you then ask, remembering the utensil he'd been holding when you first walked into the kitchen.

"potato masher..." shouto says, realization heavy in his tone. he'd clearly had no idea what it was to begin with. "i was looking for a slotted spoon."

you laugh, and then cough a little.

"you should get back to bed," shouto insists.

"just another minute," you sigh, reaching up to hold his wrist and keep his hand in place. shouto freezes, and you feel his eyes on your face, peeking up at him through your lashes.

"what?" you ask him curiously.

in place of an answer, shouto wraps his arm (the one you don't have in your clutches) around your waist and hoists you up, balancing you against his hip like an overgrown toddler.

"sho-shouto! wait!"

he doesn't wait. in fact, he barely acknowledges you've said anything at all as he trots back in the direction of your shared bedroom. before you even manage to get your bearings, shouto's placed you gently back into bed, shucked his apron, and crawled in alongside you under the covers. you hardly have time to miss the cool weight of his hand before it's returned to its rightful place against your brow.

"what about your soup?" you ask him, but even in spite of your own words—and the fact that you've been keeping him at arm's length for days out of concern for his own health—you find yourself curling up against his side in bed, snuggling closer.

"i don't think it was going to taste very good anyway," shouto remarks somberly. he pouts a little. "bakugou said he'd drop some off for you later, because he was worried my soup was going to kill you."

you laugh, and then cough, and then rest your cheek against his chest.

shouto's heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear. his hand stays cool against your skin.

you may not have planned for him, but you think you might keep him around.

[cat-madhouse]

suicide tw

I am usually against anyone contemplating suicide but also the more I think about me and how I interact with others, the more I can't help but realize that it is impossible for me not to be toxic in one way or another (if not worse), and it would take a lot less time and effort to just kill myself. I also wouldn't be inevitably hurting people during the process of getting better.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  plus ultra-rare following an interview flop, dynamight & yourself are out and about at the local mall when you're stopped by a young girl and her mother.

content // a little follow up to this. pro hero fame, paparazzi's talk about infidelity rumors (they're not true just mentioned cause you know how it goes), reader is a support tech, bakugo & reader are married, bakugo being sweet to kids, thoughts of having kids vaguely, more paparazzi nonsense, fluff.

wc // 1.7k

『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』

It was the first day the two of you have had off since the interview "incident" weeks ago - that's what Bakugo's agent called it, anyways. The press didn't make any negative remarks against the two of you specifically, but they started a horde of nasty rumors anytime Bakugo was on patrol with a pro hero of the opposite sex. Headlines about "Dynamight searching for a New Wife?" started circulating, so much so that the agency started handing out cease and desist letters to the tabloids like candy. It wasn't to hide any sort of truth, it was simply not true to start with. You're successfully able to make it to the mall without catching any attention from the swarms of media assholes at the entrances, waiting to create some fake scenario and generate false pretenses.

"God, these jackasses are everywhere," Bakugo grumbled while you crossed the threshold of the mall and into the food court. "They warned us in school about this shit, but fuck, s'annoyin' as hell."

"I know," you console, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand in your hold. "It won't be like this forever."

He sighs, keeping his head down as the two of you approach the department store you planned to shop at. While you're heading inside, a small child and her mother pass by you, the daughter spinning on her heel and doing a doubletake with sparkles in her eyes.

"Momma! I think that's Dynamight!" she squeals, barely above a whisper, but enough for you to hear her excitement. Her mother kneels down and pats her on the crown of her head.

"I think you're right! But we should leave them be, sweetie. I promise to take you to his next signing."

She pouts and fiddles with her fingers. “But they’re always sold out!”

She’s a little louder this time, now catching Bakugo’s attention. When he makes eye contact with her, the little girl escapes from her mother's side and skips over to him - she's barely taller than his waist, maybe six or seven years old.

"Dynamight!" she whispers, waving frantically with both hands and looking up at him. "I know you’re in secret right now, but I wanted to say hi!”

She turns to you and smiles, dimples adorably accenting her cheeks. “You’re very pretty, Miss Support lady! I saw you on TV!”

Bakugo’s heart swells when you squeeze his hand tighter in response to her kindness before letting go. Something about this little girl’s genuine joy makes him want to melt into a puddle. Usually, kids were annoying in his eyes and parents never knew how to wrangle them around heroes - not this little one, though. She had way more respect than most adults did whenever they’d spot him on his day off, begging for an autograph or photo.

“Heya squirt,” Bakugo greets while kneeling to her level. Her mother has scampered over in the meantime, profusely apologizing for her daughter’s outburst.

“It’s alright! She’s very sweet and he’s more than happy to talk to her,” you assure, standing with the mom to watch their interaction.

“Thanks for sayin’ hi. What’s your name?” He asks as he pulls down his face mask, tucking it under his chin and lifting the brim of his baseball hat.

“Mirai! But my friends call me Miri.”

“Nice’ta meet you, Miri. I’ve got somethin’ for ya if you give me a sec.”

Bakugo shoots a glance in your direction, nodding to your bag. “Peaches, got any cards with you?”

You waltz over to him and dig out a stack of Dynamight branded trading cards in protective sleeves from your purse, handing them over with the a permanent marker. Bakugo takes them and fans the selection out in front of Mirai.

“Pick whatever one y’want and I’ll sign it for ya. How’s that sound?”

Mirai gasps, stars twinkling in her eyes as her fingers wiggle in anticipation over the cards. “I like them all! You pick one for me, please!”

That little shimmer in her eyes reminded you of a smaller Bakugo, specifically a picture that Mitsuki had of him and Midoriya in her living room, the two of them holding up their All Might cards from when they were kids. Her expression was identical to his back then - priceless.

“This one’s a favorite of mine,” you chime in, pointing to the card on the far right. “That’s the Plus Ultra-Rare edition, too. Super cool!”

Bakugo hands you the others and keeps the one card, pulling it out of its protective sleeve and popping off the cap of the permanent marker with his teeth. He signs the card, “Miri, go beyond!” accompanied with his hero signature. He waves the card back and forth to dry the ink before returning it to the sleeve.

“There ya go,” Bakugo says, handing her the signed card. “Keep it safe, yeah?”

Mirai gingerly takes it from him, holding it close to her chest with a toothy grin. “I promise, Dynamight!”

Before he can protest, Mirai rushes into him and latches onto his neck, her small frame clinging to Bakugo in an attempt to give him a hug. Her mom stammers out more apologies, but he stops her with a raise of his hand, mouthing “S’okay” over Mirai’s shoulder.

“Thank you for keeping me and Momma safe,” Mirai mutters sweetly, tiny hands grabbing at the back of Bakugo’s shirt. “You’re the bestest hero in the world!”

He bites his cheek in response, trying his damndest not to let this child make him cry in public. That phrase has been uttered to him thousands of times, and no matter what, it still makes his heart skip a beat. He’s barely holding it together as he pats her back tenderly, closing his eyes to focus on swallowing the emotions flowing through him.

You’re staring at Bakugo with hearts in your pupils, swooning over how patient he’s being with this little girl. A sensation you've never felt before invades your lower abdomen - nerves? No, it was a foreign yearning, a burning desire to....you tuck that feeling away to unpack at another time.

"Okay honey, we should get going now," Mirai's mother insists, tapping her daughter on the shoulder to have her let go of Bakugo. "We've taken up more than enough of their time."

"Don't worry about it," Bakugo comments, standing back to normal height and patting Mirai on the head. "See ya later, Miri."

Mirai does a little dance to herself before grabbing her mother's hand, turning to whisper-yell, "Bye Dynamight!"

The two of them leave you be, walking back out into the main concourse of the mall. You turn to Bakugo and elbow him in the side with a smirk on your face.

"What's got you so smiley?" you tease. "You look like you're ready to cry, too."

"Shut the fuck up," he sniffs, re-adjusting his mask and baseball hat. "She was a cute kid, s'all it is."

"The cutest. Let's grab what we needed and head home."

You two carry on with your shopping trip, surprisingly uninterrupted. Things seems to be quiet...that is, until you're ready to leave and forget about the media mobs at the main entrance. The second you two step outside, you're swarmed with flashing lights and overwhelmed with various shouting men.

"Dynamight! Is it true you're looking for a new wife after the interview last week?"

"Are you two on a break?"

"Do you think having a pro hero as a husband is detrimental to your relationship?"

These fuckers are ruthless, and quiet frankly, stupid as hell - the two of you are literally holding hands as they ask their absurd questions.

Bakugo shakes his head before letting go of your hand and removing his face mask. The glare in his eyes hints that he's about to have an explosive reaction, but color yourself surprised when his voice comes out velvety smooth and genuine.

"Listen up, m'gonna say this once and then you're gonna leave us the hell alone," he speaks, looking each cameraman in the eye before continuing. "This is the only damn woman I want in my life and nothin' will change that. She's the only one I've got eyes for, no one else. Got it?"

A few of the paparazzi pause their insistent squawking and put their cameras down, nodding in agreement to his words.

"Great. You can all fuck off now an' find someone else to harass."

You don't know what comes over you, knowing full well what the consequences will be, but you find yourself reaching for Bakugo's jaw and pull him in for a hearty kiss. He lets out a surprised grunt before tugging you closer by the waist, catching on to what you're planning and letting you take the lead.

"Quick, get the shot!" you hear the crowd yell repetitively. Bakugo responds by flipping off the cameras, continuing your kiss for a couple more seconds before parting.

The next morning, both of your phones are full of notifications from various sources - deja vu, huh? You've got e-mails asking you two to make appearances on TV networks while Bakugo's agent and publicist are scolding him for being unprofessional in public, but in the same breath, praising him for turning the opinion of the public in his favor.

"Holy shit," you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Kats, look at this."

Bakugo peeks over your shoulder from his side of the bed, laying his head on yours while you scroll through the articles multiple people have sent to you overnight.

"Dynamight & his Wife are stronger than ever!," "Fans Overjoyed to know Dynamight & his Wife are sticking it out," and "Dynamight remains off market."

"What's that one?" he asks, reaching over you to click the article titled, "Precious Moments with Fans - Dynamight Edition." The page loads an article detailing the encounter with Mirai from afar, a few pictures of Bakugo holding out the trading cards and giving her a hug.

"When the fuck did they even take that?!" he laughs, sighing as he flopped back over to his side of the bed.

"I think it's cute. Think I should print it out and frame it for the living room?"

"Don't you fuckin' dare."

You roll over to face him, pinching his cheek.

"Yeah, the picture of you flipping off the camera is more fitting."

tags // @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @queenpiranhadon

[heavyhand61]

I have prepared my dream (and probably unrealistic) time line for a feedee

Starting at the day then move in

First 6 months

All prior commitments will be cancelled (work, schooling, ect)

All social medial accounts that don't revolve around feedisum will be blanked out

There will be a push to sign you up for every available feedist community (more extreme the better

Daily calorie intake will sit around the 4000cal mark

Next 6 months

Contact with anyone not completely in support of your goal of immobility will be broken

You will have regular posts about your gains on any and all available feedist platforms

Any content that does not revolve around obesity and weight gain will be banned

An expected gain of 40-60lbs a year

First year

Trips from the house will be limited

Decreasing step limits will be applied

Most media will be replaced with feedist porn

10000cal minimum per day

1 funnel feeding per day

Increase rate of post of feedist content

Second year

Leaving the house will be disallowed

Trips from bed or couche will be severely limited

15000+ cal minimum per day

3 funnel feeding per day

Clothes will be disallowed

Only consumable content will be extreme feedist porn

Any communication on social media will be limited to extreme feeders and other pro death feedist feedees

Expected 100+ lbs per year gain

Third year

Any movement beyond 3 steps must be done by scooter or wheelchair

Minimum 4h of viewing extreme feedist porn per day

25000cal+ per day

Tube feeding is standard aside from the occasional food "treat"

Must spend 4+ hours a day tube feeding

Forth year

Involuntary immobility, you will be confined to bed regardless of current mobility status

35000+ Cal per day minimum, to be consumed primarily as fats and sugars cut with only a minimum of nutrition supplement

Every hour from wakeup to sleep will involve tube feeding and a constant stream of the most extreme feedist porn

Sleep will be deferred if calorie goal has not been met

Fifth year

24/7 live stream of you're immobile fourm

50000 cal minimum

All windows blocked, all clocks removed, no indicators of date or time

Feeding tube lives in your mouth

Diet is mostly fats

Sixth plus years (don't expect to survive this long)

No contact with outside world, other feedist included

24/7 feedist hypno playing for you

Feeding tube size increased and feed slop made even less healthy and even more fattening

Start of year calorie goal of 100000+ an additional 1000 a week to be added to the minimum every week for the rest of your life

Six years and I plan on taking you from a normal healthy person to the perfect feedee, no thought, no life, just growing, growing GROWING, all that matters is growing all that matters is more all that matters is your life cut short by obesity

[astonmartinii]

a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 201,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself

view all comments

user1: oscar babygirlism is so real

landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT

yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy

landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN

oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me

landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(

yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well

landonorris: oh thank you 😊

oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you

landonorris: you guys love me really

user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint

user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n

yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(

yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?

yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)

landonorris: when will the slander end?

oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(

yourusername: i love you the most though

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,094,558 others

tagged: landonorris & yourusername

oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium

view all comments

user5: oscodium i know that's right

mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once

yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫

oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium

yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)

mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(

yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you

user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line

user7: they're so real for that

user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage

yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me

oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA

user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>

landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?

oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨

landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF

yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....

landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???

user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus

view all comments

user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies

alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed

logansargeant: i am cultured?

yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him

logansargeant: but i liked it!

yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother

alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren

yourusername: name the price...

user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest

oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"

logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me

yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER

oscarpiastri: 💅

charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child

maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔

yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?

charles_leclerc: one second

charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!

charles_leclerc: okay done :)

oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]

user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me

user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 730,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved

view all comments

user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery

oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support

yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)

oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage

yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀

oscarpiastri: my girl x

yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)

user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute

user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought

user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute

yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️

maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!

oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack

yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake

maxverstappen1: what about my cake?

yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you

oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?

maxverstappen1: nice try dude

yourusername: you haven't tried it yet

oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)

maxverstappen1: ????

yourusername: we jest

oscarpiastri: or do we?

user22: is gp another person they've collected?

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 1,094,873 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with

view all comments

user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents

user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS

yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now

oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)

yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS

oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well

yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this

landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win

yourusername: nope, actively praying against it

landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME

yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando

landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears

user25: well that escalated

danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭

yourusername: someone get me a grill asap

danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick

maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS

yourusername: well no bbq for you then

maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really

oscarpiastri: ???

user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me

user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk

mclarenf1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,024,550 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & yourusername

mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)

view all comments

user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell

user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen

yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps

mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm

oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)

landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged

yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing

yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour

mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description

landonorris: ...

oscarpiastri: well....

yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever

oscarpiastri: i love you <3

landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute

user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA

georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us

yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe

georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!

charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs

oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(

georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta

yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't

user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 621,945 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved

view all comments

user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point

user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track

logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good

yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear

logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport

user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting

user36: my heart is so full i love them

maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is

yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy

maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up

yourusername: you got me there

danielricciardo: that was scrummy

charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week

georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta

user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan

oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3

yourusername: you're my favourite thing

landonorris: keep that to yourself

yourusername: i can't love my bf now?

landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG

oscarpiastri: you made it not PG

yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando

landonorris: i can't win with you people

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 803,884 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king

view all comments

user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food

landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((

oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus

landonorris: selfish

yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season

user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king

oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george

georgerussell63: no regrets

yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty

oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen

yourusername: all the food WE want all off season

maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you

charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly

landonorris: i'm calling childline actually

yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months

landonorris: GASP!

oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro

landonorris: :(

yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year

oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.

yourusername: i love you too osc

fin.

note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !

[writingrock]

no hard feelings

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: you and your pro-hero boyfriend are enjoying date night until you bump into a talkative ex-classmate.

notes: fluff, funny bullshit, date night interrupted, katsuki is about to blow someone up, pro-hero katsuki

word count: 938

a/n: inspired by that one scene from 'no hard feelings' movie. I couldn't help but picture Katsuki in it.

Katsuki’s eyes twitched in annoyance as he watched you talk to your friend. An old friend who just happened to recognise you and wanted to catch up. Afterall, it's been so long.

A suppressed groan slipped out of his mouth as he took another long sip of the red wine. How long was this fucker going to stand over you and drag the conversation? Especially during his date night with you. Your boyfriend usually doesn’t mind some chatter, especially if you haven’t seen them in a while. But it has been twenty minutes of this bullshit.

His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as the conversation didn’t seem to end. Mainly because this loser kept opening his mouth. You were being polite to a high school classmate you haven’t seen in years. In truth, you wished this was over but weren’t sure how to end this conversation. You could appreciate a nice, small chat but this has definitely gone on long enough.

The pro-hero was getting annoyed as this continued, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glared daggers at this man. Is his off time being wasted by some douche who can’t shut up? Just when he thought this couldn’t get worse, this man proved to be a bigger idiot than initially perceived. 

“I don’t know what you’re doing later but there’s this reunion—” your past classmate pulled out his phone with such eagerness. Katsuki wanted to gag at the sight and blow this man up on the spot. He’s had enough. He was going to end it.

Clearing his throat, Katsuki redirects the attention to himself. The sound caused the both of you to turn to the pro-hero. Katsuki looked at you for a moment, noticing your facial expressions. Your expression was sending a message bordering between ‘please help end this’ and ‘be gentle’. Be gentle. As if. But for you, he would try.

“We have plans.” His piercing gaze narrowed at the unwelcome presence at dinner. His words are short, simple for a simpleton like him to understand. Katsuki’s tone was firm and carried a heavy weight to it. There was a fire within the blond that he had to hold back for you.

Thinking that would end it, he swiped the wine glass on the dinner table. Delicately tilting the glass to swirl the Bordeaux. Katsuki’s eyes stay on your friend who’s suddenly rather awkward and meek, letting his gaze spell out the obvious. Fuck off.

Imagine Katsuki’s surprise when your friend turned away to look back at you. Running away from the threat the pro hero posed. Heat rose in his chest. This little weasel. His fingers tighten on the stem of the wine glass. “Oh, but I can still send you the address- ” your friend tried to start, his fingers already swiped on the screen of his phone.

Ready to send you a text until your boyfriend cuts him off, “She didn’t bring her phone.” a lie but this shithead didn’t know that. Your phone was sitting snugly in your purse which Katsuki knew was on silent mode. You watched the scene play out in anticipation, letting your boyfriend take the reins on this situation. Plus, it was rather amusing to watch.

“Oh, I can give you the address.” Was this man dense? Did this dumbass really just offer to send the address to him? Irritation was plain obvious on Katsuki’s face. If his grip on the glass was any tighter, he might have broken it. His patience was thinning, turning into a ticking time bomb that was about to blow. The longer this continued, the faster the ticking went.

You could have sworn that you saw a vein pop on Katsuki’s forehead. Gritting his teeth, he swallows the burst of obscenities in his throat, forcing an amicable smile on his face. Though that smile looked nothing like sincere or friendliness. It simply looked like he was holding in the urge to yell at this past classmate of yours.

“No need.” he manages to give a short answer. On the edge of losing his cool over this idiot who’s being painfully oblivious and persistent to invite you to some reunion. Katsuki wondered what his deal was. Was he doing this on purpose to rile the pro-hero up? Because it sure as hell felt like it.

His intense gaze was burning with frustration. His lips loosening to unravel his bad temper if this kept going. You hoped for the safety of your past friend that he got the hint and would go before Katsuki blew a fuse. And knowing your boyfriend, he’s nearly there.

“Can’t hurt to have it— ” Katsuki slammed the wine glass onto the table, causing it to wobble slightly. The plates and silverware clattered slightly as he let out a deep exhale. The wine swayed in its glass. Your friend is cut off by the sudden slam.

Honestly, Katsuki didn’t even mean to slam the glass onto the table. He had underestimated how hard he was gripping the glass. How utterly pissed he was.

“Might hurt.” a nasty snarl paired with his sudden aggression was finally the trigger that clarified that he’s overstayed. Your past classmate finally realised that he’s being asked to fuck off. Which he does so quietly, squeaking a small apology as he scurried out of the restaurant.

You look at your boyfriend with a smile before bursting into laughter. Katsuki’s grip finally loosens on the wine glass. His hand on his temple, rubbing away the pent up anger he felt. That was aggravating.

“He’s super nice isn’t he?”

“He was about to be blown up.”

a/n: hope you enjoyed this! needed to write something small because I've been working on bigger fics. Not proofread !

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

[uracutieraka]

When did you get pretty?

Keigo x Younger!f!reader

slight smut warning, nothing too serious.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

synopsis: you are a UA graduate who just turned 19. Youve known Hawks since he was 20. After 2 years, youre starting to feel differently about the older boy who always seems to conveniently be around you. ◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

”You know that I dont think your ideas are stupid!” “Well then how come my fifth idea has been rejected this year!”

youre going back and forth with your boss, well friend who happens to be your boss, Hawks. youve been at his hero agency since you were 17, when he personally invited you to do a work study under him, only to find out he really just wanted to slack off all day and use you for your ideas.

“Keigo, come on dude. You can totally just tell them to listen to me and to trust me! Honestly i dont understand why you dont come to these pitch meetings with me, you know they wont listen to me!”

“Y/n, i cant go because i dont want to!” “Gah you are such a smartass, honestly im not doing this anymore!”

you get up from your seat across from the witty blond infront of you, sending a pointed and stern look his way.

You had just had yet another unsuccessful meeting with his investors, they didnt trust a 19 year old girl could come up with actually successful business plans. Keigo knew this, but he didnt really care.

“What? Youre not quitting on me, are you?” His eyes grew worried as well as the rest of his face. With an obvious sigh you tell him no. “Im relieved. I love you too much to lose you!”

a strong heat spreads across your body, starting in your cheeks. You werent unfamiliar with the cutesy words he spoke, but that doesnt mean they dont affect you. In fact, they more than affect you. Youve been harboring a dark, dark secret for over 2 years now. ever since you were 16 you had the biggest crush on pro hero Hawks. You even had posters in your room as if he were a member from some boyband. He was only a few years older than you too, so it wasnt unreasonable to like him. “Yeah yeah, i know im so perfect and amazing, who wouldnt?” You shoot a witty and sly smile his way. You normally just counter act any romantic feelings and thoughts with a sassy remark.

“Yeah, i know, i know,” he trails off, looking back up to you he opens his mouth again “But on that topic! Theres this hero-party-but actually work-gala happening tomorrow and i figured it would be a good opportunity for you to mingle with the rest of the pro hero world so i put you down as my plus one.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of respect for your own personal schedule. “Were you even going to check that i didnt have anything going on?” You grumbled out to him. “Uhm, no because i know you dont. You never do. Im your only friend really.” “Well first off, youre not my only friend, second off, i did have plans this weekend but no dont worry, ill cancel them for you, again.” “Again?” The winged man quickly looks at you. “Yeah this is like the fourth time I’ve cancelled on my friend” you already had your phone out typing away on your keyboard. “Wait really? Im so sorry, you dont have to come!” Hes giving you sad eyes, you know he doesnt really mean that. with another loud sigh and eye roll you look at him, “Keigo, its fine, id much rather spend a weekend with you meeting pros than go shopping and see some lame ass movie, if i had an issue id tell you.”

keigo hadnt even thought about the possibility that you still had a life outside of the hero agency, or him really, the more he thought about it, he realized there probably hadnt been a full 24 hours where you hadnt been with him since you graduated almost a year ago.

He was in a fight? You were there helping him. He needed help with extra paperwork? You were there, at the opposite side of his desk doing paperwork with him silently. Hes in the shower? You’re in the bathroom chatting his ear off about some stupid internet drama. He needs help grocery shopping? You’re writing the list for him. Anything he needs, you do. He didnt really take time to appreciate you at all now that he thinks about it.

“Listen, i know you do a lot for me, and i just wanted to say thank you.” Hes looking away from you now with a hand on the back of his neck, his whole demeanor has changed.

“Dude, honestly its fine, you dont have to thank me, i like being with you. Honestly you are my best friend.” You also were looking away from him, down at the boots for your hero costume.

“Youre mine too.” you look up to see him now giving you a soft smile.

“So about this, what did you say it was?” “gala”

“yeah yeah, what do i wear?” “i dont know something nice? You know its a fancy event, suit n tie for me type thing.” “ah i see, i see, uhm ok yeah thatll work” youre in your head mumbling to yourself about it at this point. “Okay….” He drags out the word obviously to drag you back into the present. “Ok well im going home now!” You hurriedly grab your bags and make a break for it, if you stay any longer you wont be able to get home to clean up and get ready for tomorrow.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

its 6:30 on the dot when you get a call.

“yello?” You say quickly

“hey, im uh, here.” A quiet voice says. “You said 7! What the hell keigo!?!” “yeah yeah just let me up”

You buzz him up to your small, but homey, apartment.

as you hear him knock on your front door you slide your dress up your body holding onto the top as it has yet to be zipped.

You answer the door to see your best friend standing there in a very nice, expensive looking suit. He looked great.

“hey! Come in, its small but it does what its supposed to do!” You say motioning him inside with your free arm.

Keigo realized he had never been to your place, yet you were constantly at his. Like constantly. Honestly he had never even thought about you having your own. You always slept on his couch. He didnt mind though. It was nice not feeling so alone all the time. He liked having you in his life, you treated him normally.

his eyes did a scan over your place

“its cute. Its super you.” He said now looking back at you. He had never seen you soooo… done up? You were honestly such a different person outside of your hero costume, or even your messy buns and large baggy clothes that you always wore at his place. (They had a found a home in a spare drawer in his dresser.)

“Anyways theres only a few things i have left then I’ll be ready,” you had broken the moment of silence, and his intense stare on you. “Can you help me zip this? I thought i could get it on my own but i cant.” you now had your back turned towards him, shutting the door as you did. He hitched his breath, he hadnt ever seen you like this, you were so… calm? And collected? You always seemed so stressed, but he now came to the conclusion that was because of work and his lack of energy for said job.

“sure, yeah.” He said as he stepped towards you to zip your dress. He took you in, in all your glory. You looked so different than normal. Your hair was curled to one side, makeup was light but had the perfect amount of shine, and your dress, well your body looked stunning. How come he had never noticed you like this before?

Your hero costume was tip-toeing the line of scandalous, he knew because he had seen the headlines when he first debuted you at his agency, but he honestly didnt care because he didnt think it really mattered.

But now, here you are in a strapless dress, with a dropped neckline, the fabric is hugging your waist and hips perfectly, the color made your eyes pop and was perfect on you. You looked elegant. So grown up compared to the restless 17 year old he first met.

You had thought the same about him the past few years, he had been turning out to be quite a decent man, he was no longer the hot-shot teen hero you once fangirled over, but the handsome and charismatic man you had grown to be friends with.

turning back towards him you dismissed yourself to finish getting ready in your bathroom.

He now had time to look around your tiny apartment. He walked around looking at all your knick-nacks in the living room until he caught a glimpse of your bedroom door open roughly 10 feet away from where he was standing.

he shouldnt. hes going to anyways.

he made his way to the door peeking inside, it was what he expected, a few clothes scattered on your floor but other than that it was clean. he was scanning your walls when he noticed a very familiar, yet very haunting photo on your wall.

it was a poster he did when he was 17 and freshly debuted in the prohero world. How long had you had this? Have you even been a fan of him for that long?

his thoughts rushed around his head for a brief moment until a devious one creeped up in his head.

you were putting your earrings in, finishing up the last few little things you needed before leaving, when you caught a glimpse of the red wings you became so familiar with at the doorway. You looked over to see Keigo standing there with a mischievous look on his face.

“Uhm, do you need something?” You raised a brow at him. “How long have you loved me? Be honest? Was it when i did my first magazine shoot for that teen magazine?” oh no. He did not seriously look in your room. of course he did. You know him. “DID YOU SERIOUSLY LOOK IN MY ROOM WHAT ARE YOU A PERVERT?”

His face dropped. Oh my god was he really a pervert? “NO I SWEAR, YOUR DOOR WAS OPEN AND I WAS JUST CURIOUS!” “Ugh you are such a brat Keigo! Seriously! Why would you go snooping in a 19 year old girls room! Youre such a douche!” Hes known you long enough to know youre messing with him but you are obviously a bit upset.

“Look, i couldnt help myself i just peeked in and saw that poster! Its cute that you have that is all!” “Honestly, why do you think i was so excited to join your agency? I was obviously a fan.” Another smirk graces his face. “You said ‘was’ sooo are you still or now you know me and think im the worst?” you give him a dirty look and shove past him with a sarcastic huff towards your bedroom. “The ladder!” You sass out to him. He chuckles and makes his way back towards your living room.

A few moments later you emerge from your room and motion for him to head out the front.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

Its been a long night, youve talked to so many people youve lost track, youre a bit more than tipsy from stealing the ends of keigos drinks all night.

Keigos drunk and has been consistently introducing you to new people as “The future hottest hero of the year!” Or “His right hand lady, y/n”

You two have finally found a moment of peace as you had forced him to sit down a table towards the back of the venue. You lean over to him resting your hand on his knee for balance. “Keigo,” he leans his head towards you and give you a ‘hum’ of acknowledgment, “Im ready to go home.” This brings the man to fully look at you. “Yeah, ok, me too.”

Hes looking at you in the dim lighting of the room, how could he not have ever noticed the way your eyes glitter all the time? Or the softness of your features, they look so good together. He fumbled with his phone and called for his car so you guys could leave.

“Alright lets get going.” He says, standing up wobbling a bit before reaching a hand out to you. You grab it and also stumble a bit when you stand up. before you walk away you lean up to him and whisper in his ear,

“Ive been stealing a bit of your drinks tonight…dont be mad at me, s’wear didnt mean to get like this…” your words are ever so slightly slurred together.

He looks at you and whispers back

“Its ok, i know you have.” a moment of silence goes by before you both start giggling about the situation. after a moment of giggling you decided it was time to make your way down to the car. Pulling the blond behind you, you finally make your exit.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

In the car the driver asks Keigo where to go, he looks at you and you look at him and shrug.

“Back to y/n’s place i think. Ill stay there tonight so you can het home finally!” He gives the driver a big close eyed smile. “Of course sir.” and with that you make your way back to your tiny apartment.”

★。＼｜／。★

Youre finally back in your own place after a few minutes of struggling with your keys at the door, it didnt help you had Keigo standing over your shoulder making jokes causing you guys to laugh every 20 seconds.

“UGH! FINALLY!” You say kicking off your heels and locking your front door. “Did you not have fun or something?” Keigo asks, hes already shed his coat and loosened his tie from around his neck. Damn did he look good.

You look back up at him and can feel the blush creep up your face. “Yeah, I did, i like being your plus one, we should do it more often.” You blurt out, not really realizing what you said for a quick beat. “I mean like you know, youre my best friend and were always together, so nothing weird, haha….” that was not confident of you at all. Way to go y/n.

Hes staring at you, your hair is slightly messy, lips are plumped up from the alcohol, makeup is messy, and keigo feels like a predator almost. a desire is stirring inside him. this is bad. Very very bad. Keigos staring at you. Its different than any stare youve felt before from anyone. You feel something stirring inside you. Something bad, very very bad.

“Keigo, uhm look, I like you. And have for a while.” Words are falling out of your mouth faster than you can stop them.

“Y/n, i dont know, what will people think? Youre my trainee.” Hes giving you a serious look, youve never seen him more serious than this (other than when youre fighting villains of course).

you deflate in on yourself and your heart drops. what did you just do.

“but…,” he speaks again “When have i ever cared what people think.”

A few moments go by and suddenly youre grabbing his face and pulling him into yours.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Your dress is long gone, lost somewhere in your apartment, youll worry about it tomorrow, keigos clothes are littering your floor, mixing with the ones that have already been there of yours. your on his lap on your bed kissing him.

how did you get here?

oh yeah, you were kissing him in the living room then he was pulling your dress off and you were pulling him towards your room. And now youre here.

you stop and look at him, holding his face. “Do you want this? Or are you drunk?” Youre looking into his eyes and studying deeply, you need to know before you make your next move.

“Yes, please, ive never wanted anything more than this right now.” Hes shaking his head, hes begging for you.

“yeah me too.,” youre back to kissing him this time moving your hips since hes perched his hands on them and begun moving you.

theres 2 layers between the two of you. Your underwear, and his. this is it. Everything youve ever wanted is happening right now. The Hawks, is sitting under you begging to have you.

A call suddenly breaks the heavy silence of the room. you know that ringtone. Its the ‘emergency’ ringtone you suggested he set so he never missed one.

you quickly get up snatching his phone out of his pocket and handing it to him.

a few minutes go by with his occasional ‘mhms’

eventually he ends the call. “Yeah, just call me if you need back up.” He turns back at you and begins apologizing, over and over.

Youre telling him its ok and you understand. That youre just happy he doesnt have to go yet.

“Im just happy youre still here Keigo.” “Yeah but i totally just ruined the vibe.” “I dont care, just wanna hangout with you.” “ok, promise youre not mad?” “Yes, i promise im not mad.”

Keigo then hands you a shirt off your floor and puts his button up on over his shoulders, hes too lazy to button it.

“So uh, wanna order a pizza? That food earlier sucked.” He says pointing his thumb back behind him. “yeah, im down.” You say getting up to grab your phone.

[saintzweig]

nsfw patrick zweig x camgirl!reader

–based on this blurb PART TWO HERE

– wrote this with 5 hours of sleep, not proofread because i'm lazy so i apologize in advance for the mistakes or if its shitty :3 wasn't actually going to write this but i couldn't stop thinking about it sooo

it was 3pm on a thursday, you were sat in your history class bored out of your mind. it was your last class of the week and it had only half an hour left but with the way your professor was droning on and on about god knows what, you couldn't wait to get out of here fast enough. 

you had a live scheduled in two hours, as well. you needed enough time to rest and freshen up before you turn your camera on. you did live cams anonymously on some sketchy website just to get by, a cam girl if you will. you grew up in a strict religious household so you've never thought you'd end up doing this but desperate times call for desperate measures, it was an easy way out of your financial problems. plus, if you were careful enough no one would have to find out. its not like you were going to do this forever, only until you graduate and find a job with a decent pay. by then, your account will be deleted and forgotten about, as if it never existed in the first place. 

your mindless scribbling was interrupted when your professor called your name. "l/n, zweig"

your head snapped up to the front and then to patrick zweig who sat two rows infront of you. 

"your presentation will be a week from now, your topic will be on the reconstruction. i expect you'll do a thorough research." 

you quickly wrote down the details as your professor dismissed the class, students rushing to get out of the room while you stayed behind to gather your things. before you knew it, patrick stood infront of you. his backpack slinging over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets. 

you didn't know patrick zweig, you knew of him. a great, cocky tennis player who was supposed to go pro after juniors but his friends, art and tashi, convinced him to accept his standford offer. so he'll have something to fall back on if things don't go to plan. 

you've heard people talk about him, how he's reckless in his plays yet he keeps winning. how he doesn't do anything in class yet he keeps passing. you had to stop yourself from sighing in front of him, is he going to make you do everything? 

"y/n, right?" you've never heard him talk before, atleast not anywhere near you so you were surprised that his voice sounded ... attractive. you took this time to actually look at him, he wore a plain white shirt and denim jeans, which isn't much but he made it look so good. his face was slightly scruffy, his nose statuesque and his pink lips was pulled into a slight smirk. you had no idea why his appearance made your heart beat faster than normal. 

the two of you discussed when to meet, deciding to do the work in your dorm every other day during his free time. so now, on friday evening, you were sat on your desk working on the outline for your project as you wait for him to arrive. 

not long after, there was a knock on your door and patrick entered in his tennis attire, carrying his equipment. "a single room?" he asked with his eyebrow raised, taking in the sight of your room. the white walls adorned with tapestry and posters, your bed covered in a pink bedding and your desk was cluttered with your study materials. 

"i got lucky" you sat on your chair as he settled on your bed, laying on his back in exhaustion. there was something familiar about your room, he just couldn't put his finger on it. has he been here before? did the two of you hook up and he had just forgotten about it? or maybe it's because most dorms look the same, it's probably just similar to tashi's. he put the thought on the back of his mind as you started to discuss your project with him. 

it went surprisingly well the first day, although patrick was stubborn, he knew he couldn't just skip on this project because he'll end up having to do it alone so he decided doing it with you now was the better option. the next day, he got too comfortable that he's so easily distracted. you started bribing him with his own pack of cigarettes, taking it from his hands and putting it under your thigh as the two of you sat across from each other on your bed. 

it was a little difficult to work with him, considering he's not so good at studying but it was fun, you had fun with him. he made jokes that you tried to keep a straight face on but end up laughing so hard your cheeks were starting to hurt. he keeps trying to flirt with you too, which just ends up with you scowling at him and slapping his arm. 

and as soon as he left, you turned your camera on and positioned yourself on your bed. normally, you would only strip and massage your body, never going as far as playing with yourself in front of your viewers. but this time, you couldn't stop thinking about patrick. how big his hands were compared to you, you imagined it wrapped around your wrist, or holding your waist, or choking you. the thought making you squeeze your thighs together. you made soft noises as your massaged your breasts, imagining what it would feel like to feel his hands cupping you. you felt yourself get wet as you pressed your fingers against the fabric of your panties.

tonight's live felt a bit more sensual, it was almost difficult to stop yourself from getting carried away but you needed to be careful. so after an hour, you turned the camera off and placed your laptop under your bed. as soon as you lay back, your hand found its way inside your white, lacy panties. you shiver as the pad of your pointer finger brushed against your sensitive clit, feeling the slick against your skin as your press against your cunt. 

you spent the next hour touching yourself to the thought of patrick using your body, feeling his lips against your skin, lapping up the juices leaking out of you. the sounds you were making were too pornographic that you had to place your hand over your mouth. your fingers covered in your juices as you desperately fucked yourself. it felt like a pretty sight to see that you almost regretted turning your camera off. 

you wanted someone to see you, you wanted him to see what he was doing to you. 

the next time he came over, he had just come straight from tennis practice. his skin was slightly moist with sweat and he wore shorts that rode up his legs when he sat on your bed. you couldn't focus on anything but his thighs. 

“you feeling alright? you're looking kinda red, zoning out too” you blushed, feeling like he just caught you red handed. 

you nod, “yeah, it's just a little hot” 

he smirked, telling you to take your shirt off if it's that hot, he wouldn't mind it at all. you rolled your eyes at his suggestion, turning your attention back to your laptop. you were tempted to do it, it took you everything in your body not to. even with your choice of work, you still had a little bit of self respect and discipline left. 

that night, you ended up touching yourself on camera for the first time. making yourself cum infront of your viewers while they had no idea you were thinking of patrick, again. having your lips on his skin, straddling his lap and feeling his bulge press against your clothed cunt, his hands on your breasts as you bounce on his cock. you made the highest amount of money you've ever made since you've started. but you made sure to tell them it was a one time thing. 

the next evening, was the day before your presentation. patrick was on his way over so the two of you can practice and prepare yourself for tomorrow. 

you bumped into him on your way to the communal bathroom, telling him to go right ahead. 

patrick entered your room, dropping his equipment by the door as usual. instead of laying in your bed like he always does, he sat on your chair. leaning back with his arms crossed as he observed the trinkets on your desk and the photos pinned on the corkboard. 

a few minutes later, you walked in and sat on your bed, facing him. he turned around in your chair to ask you something about the photos but the sight of you on your bed left him dumbfounded. the realization of why your room looks familiar finally came to him, the only reason it took him so long was because the only way he's ever seen it was through the camera, facing the exact direction he's looking at right now. 

you were the anonymous cam girl he had been jerking off to after your sessions, you were the girl he had just sent a hundred dollars to the night before.