#and that was before I even met them and we realized that we actually get along pretty well

[babyleostuff]

― MEETING OF THE CENTURY

choi seungcheol is about to embark on his scariest life quest yet: meeting your older brother.

🍵 THEME: fluff, nervous and stressed cheol (which equals pouty and clingy cheol), comfort 🍵 PAIRING: idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 🍵 WORD COUNT: 601

"i’m sick."

you crossed your arms over your chest, looking down at the blanket-burrito on your bed that was your boyfriend. any other day, this would mildly worry you, because despite being blessed with many things—like his thick eyebrows and long lashes—a good immune system was not one of them.

"you’re not, cheol."

a sliver of brown hair peeked from under the blanket. "well, then i’m going to be sick."

for all of the months that you’d been dating seungcheol, you never really paid much attention to the fact that he had never met your older brother. obviously, he was busy, and so was your brother; it was only natural for them to have never had the chance to meet before.

now, you were starting to get the gist of what the real reason for that was.

you sighed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back. "i know that you’re nervous, honey." earlier that day, when you were getting ready, you noticed that cheol had pulled up your brother’s Instagram account with one of his ootd’s. as much as you wanted to tease him for that, your heart only warmed at the thought of cheol trying to get into your brother’s good graces, even putting together an outfit similar to his.

"he’ll love you, i swear," you ran your hand back and forth, matching your touch with your gentle tone.

"everyone says that," he mumbled.

you sighed and scooted down the bed to lift up the blanket. if not for the pouty lips and big eyes, you’d laugh at his shrimp-like position, but you realized that’d be the worst thing to do.

once seungcheol gets whiny, there’s no going back.

"but it’s true. you have to believe me."

and you really meant it. your brother was in love with seungcheol already. who wouldn’t, honestly? sure, he’d probably give him the typical big brother talk, with the “hurt her and i’ll kill you”, but that was a canon event, anyway. 

“baby,” you sighed, and ran your thumb over his cheek. “i promise you’ll be fine.”  

cheol buried his head into his pillow and muttered a quiet okay.

“h-hi.” 

you had to press your lips together not to smile. or worse. laugh. 

after giving him two more pep talks before getting in the car, kissing his pouty lips on every red light, and promising him that you’d take the next afternoon off to cuddle him and kkuma, cheol seemed to be a bit more okay with the daunting fact that he was about to meet your older brother. 

but now, as he was actually standing in front of him… 

you had never seen seungcheol standing so stiff and straight. not even putting your hand on his lower back helped him relax; and when he extended his arm, he kind of reminded you of a lego. or a barbie doll. “it’s such a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

your brother looked at you briefly, a glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. 

“oh, come on,” he said, and put his hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder that made his already wide eyes go even wider. “let’s ditch the formalities. i’m so happy i can finally meet you.” 

“uh, yeah,” seungcheol said and nodded. “you too. i-i mean me too. i…” 

“should we just get inside?” you asked, leaning closer to your boyfriend. his cheeks were raging red and you had a feeling the icy wind had nothing to do with it. 

“sure, it’s freezing.”

cheol gave your boyfriend an awkward smile. 

oh, this was going to be a long night.

[laritamiauu]

LARITA

WHAT DID I DO TO YOU HOLY PEANUTS

I just got on Tumblr and saw my favorite rare pair yaoi

Do you want/have some headcannons for Blindspeed?(Their other ship name that I made up!!) - 🍦

i don't have a lot in mind since i haven't had the time to think about them

tho i did think about their meeting and a bit about their dynamic together-

so hermes works in the underworld as like a guide for the souls, we know that, so I figure that he must have met Tiresias before but because he is blind he didn't realize that he was meeting an actual god, also like their first meeting was very brief so there wasn't a lot of conversation between them

I imagine that even if Tiresias can't see, he can sense the presence of the people around them, and gods and divinity's have a really strong presence so he would know that he was near a god but wouldn't know who

So they probably met briefly and something about Tiresias past and abilities caught Hermes attention and idk, so he began to very slightly stalk him a bit, watch him from afar and stuff.

He didn't know why but there was something about this ROTTING GHOST that caught his attention, so everytime he could he would stop by just to look at him because he is a FREAK

And there's this very interesting dynamic with Tiresias that, he can't see right? But (in my design) he has these two snakes that can talk and LOVE to torment him, and they obviously can see too👀

So even if Tiresias is blind, he is still very aware of his surroundings because those snakes won't stop gossiping about everything that happens around them lol

So imagine the snakes notice Hermes stalking Tiresias and start to mention it like:

-Omg babe that twink is watching us again

-No way really?! What a freak

Lmao and that's how Tiresias finds out, then one day he just hears the snakes gossiping about that again and just yells out loud "show yourself" and Hermes being like the only other person in there just yells "HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS HERE" and then Tiresias just says more calmly "I can see you" (this is just me quoting warrior of the mind atp lol) "...but you can't" "trust me I CAN" referring to the snakes lmao

But yeah that's what I imagine for their meeting lol

Also apart from being a bit cute they're soOOOO FREAKY in every shape and form, like the second Hermes finds out Tiresias can still change sex by beating up the snakes (this is just my hc lol) he would be SOOO INTO THAT, he is a freak, a freaky and greedy bisexual if you will.

And Tiresias too like he is a bit of an asshole so it would take a while for him to soften up, like i feel like he would be pretty touchy, his love language would probably be physical interaction, AND since he can't see him, not even with his prophecy abilities, he would have to get to know him by using his other senses, that's freaky-

Anyways I love them, they're boyfriends and they're freaks, but they're happy

[elleandstufff]

Do I Like Her? ๋࣭ ⭑

Thanos can’t admit his feelings for you until it’s too late. Or is it…? Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader

Inspired by the song Stephanie by Nafeesisboujee! Requested by Anon! 

Warnings: Dual POV, angst, talking stage, indecisiveness, hiding true feelings, implied smut but nothing described, you both get with other people to try and get over the other, drinking, drug use, jealous!Thanos, ambiguous but hopeful ending, 3.3k words

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The hum of the shitty light above you is enough to make you regret all of your decisions tonight. Your coworker had begged you to come out tonight to some club. That part actually wasn’t so bad. But just before last call, your coworker met some sleazy guy who begged the two of you to come to the twenty-four-hour diner down the street. 

Now, your coworker sits in the corner booth with said guy, and the two of them are eating each other’s faces off. You sit at the dingy counter nursing a cup of coffee. You’re already up freakishly early, so you might as well stay up. 

“Hey, Señorita.��

A man’s voice infiltrates your ears, but you don’t realize he’s talking to you until you look up from your coffee and see him standing right next to you. He’s tall and lean with purple hair and clothes that make you think he just came from the club like most of the diner’s crowd right now. 

“Do you have a name?” 

You’re not sure why you tell him, but you do. It’s not often that you entertain these sorts of things, but there’s something special about this purple-haired guy. 

“I’m Thanos.” He extends a hand toward you, but instead of shaking it he just cradles your hand in his. 

“What’s your real name?” 

He pulls a face. “Sorry, babe. I don’t go around giving that out to just anybody.” 

You smirk, ready to play along. “Well, I need to know. I’m definitely not going to be moaning Thanos all night.” 

His eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting you to be so forward. 

“What?” You feign innocence. “That’s why you came up to me, right? Why don’t we just skip all the talk and get the hell out of this dump?”

He smiles and threads your fingers together. “I saw you at Club Pentagon but didn’t get a chance to talk to you. Then I found you again here. That’s got to be fate, huh?”

You let your coworker know that you’re heading out, and she wishes you farewell even though she’s a little preoccupied. You walk outside hand-in-hand with the man you literally just met. His apartment isn’t a far walk, so the two of you set off on foot. The walk will give the two of you a chance to get to know each other a little bit before you end up tangled together in his bed sheets. 

“It’s Su-bong,” he says, then repeats himself once you look up at him confused. “My name is Su-bong.” 

“So, Su-bong, you do this often?”

“What? Bring girls home?”

You laugh. Based on his demeanor, you’re fairly certain this isn’t his first time doing this. You lift your entwined hands. “No, I meant this.” 

He stalls for a minute, like your probing has him questioning everything. Why was he doing this? “No, actually. Just for you, Señorita. What about you? You do this often?”

You can’t help but smile at this man you hardly know a thing about. “Well then I’m honored. And no, this isn’t how my typical Friday nights look.” 

You talk more as the two of you walk. You find out that he’s a rapper, which makes sense. He’s a bit twitchy, too. You’ve seen enough drug use in your life to know that he was on something tonight that’s starting to wear off. 

You don’t waste any time when you get back to his apartment. He’s rough of course, but there’s a certain tenderness to him that sets your brain on fire. Something tells you that it’s new for him too. 

You offer to leave after–even though you don’t want to–but he asks you to stay and get some rest. You had planned to just stay up and get some much needed errands done, but how could you say no? You were already feeling something toward him, which is the exact reason why you didn’t do stuff like this often. You catch feelings way too fast, and apparently even faster when the feelings are for a purple-haired rapper. 

He opens up the drawer beside his bed and pulls out a pill bottle that you know is not prescription. He downs a couple and rolls over to face you. “You’ll still be here when I wake up, yeah?” He says it matter-of-factly, but there’s something to his tone that makes it sound almost like he’s pleading.

“‘Course,” you whisper, but whatever pills he took have already taken effect and he’s softly breathing beside you. 

It takes you a while to drift off, and you wake before him a few hours later, but you honor the promise you made. He stirs awake not long after, and he seems surprised to still see you in his bed. Something flashes in his eyes–adoration, maybe–but he’s quick to get up. He seems different now, more walled off. 

As he moves around his kitchen preparing himself a junk food filled breakfast as if you’re not even there, you try to say your goodbyes. He looks at you with his mouth full. “Oh, let me get your number.” 

“So you can ghost me for three weeks and then randomly text me at two in the morning one day because you’re horny? No thanks.” 

He stops you before you can get out the door with a sigh, like he can’t believe he’s doing this… “How about I give you my number then? That way you can decide if you want to ghost me or not.” 

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You end up not ghosting him, and Su-bong struggles with how he feels about it. Usually after he hooks up with a girl, he might talk to her for a couple weeks, but it never lasts. Things either fizzle out or he just doesn’t care enough to put the effort in. But with you… there’s something different. Something special. It terrifies him. 

You text him. A lot. He’s not good at responding to anyone, so he has to constantly remind himself to text you back. He doesn’t always respond, and oftentimes it’s hours after you sent the initial text, but it’s more of an effort than he’s put into anyone else. 

You come over a couple times a week, too. Mostly to hook up, but the visits start getting longer with shared joints and movie nights. He likes the way your bodies fit together. He likes waking up to someone in his bed, and he likes that person being you. But he can’t admit any of this to his friends, himself, and especially you. He knows you like him, he knows you would be so good for him, but he can’t seem to let himself go past good morning texts and tender forehead kisses when he thinks you’re asleep. 

One night, he asks you to come to the club with him. Not meet him there, come with him. It’s a big step for him, and he tries not to think too much about it. He pops a pill from his cross necklace just to calm his nerves. 

The two of you sit in a booth at Club Pentagon with his friends. Su-bong keeps an arm tightly wrapped around you, like he doesn’t want to lose you. He’s seen the way some of his friends look at you. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you shout over the bass-boosted club music. 

“I can do it,” he offers. 

“No, it’s okay.” You smile sweetly. “I need to stretch my legs anyway.” 

He doesn’t realize that he’s staring at your figure the entire time you’re at the bar until he feels his shoulder being nudged. Distractedly, he turns to see Nam-gyu. 

“Do you like her?” 

“Nah,” Su-bong answers, before he can even think about it. “Just a fling.” 

“You sure? Because-” 

“Yep, I’m sure,” he answers curtly. 

He doesn’t like you that much, right? So why does he feel like shit right now?

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You’d been talking to Su-bong for a couple of months now. You never put a label on it, but it keeps your life interesting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish you two could take the next step into a real relationship. Su-bong is not a super affectionate person, so you’ll have to take him in whatever form you can get. 

You text him probably more than you should. He hardly ever texts you first, but he keeps responding to you–even if it’s hours later–so you keep texting him. You frequent his apartment more and more often, and he even starts coming by yours. His touches get more tender, his words more soft, and you begin to think maybe you’re getting somewhere with him. You know he probably won’t be the one to make the next step, so you decide to. 

One morning you bring it up as you lie with your head on his chest and your legs tangled with his. He’s staring at the ceiling thinking about whatever it is that he thinks about, smoke blowing out from between his lips. 

“So, I have this weird work party thing tonight.” 

He takes another hit from his vape. 

“And like everybody at my work is married and bringing a plus one…”

Another hit. 

“So… I was thinking maybe you could come with me?”

He immediately tenses beneath you. It’s quick and he adjusts himself, but you definitely felt it. You quickly sit up feeling like a complete idiot. 

He rolls on his side to look at you. You prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“It’s just… I thought this was more of a casual thing, you know?”

You clear your throat. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, that was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I mean, I could still come I guess.” 

“No, no, really it’s fine.” You get up and start throwing your clothes on as fast as you can without making it so obvious that you’re upset. 

He catches your wrist. “You don’t have to leave.” 

“I just remembered that I’m supposed to bring a dessert and I don’t have any of the stuff, so I should probably get started on that.” 

You scramble out of his apartment before he can say much more. You don’t really have to bring a dessert, but you go to the store in a stupor anyway to try and distract yourself. You spend way too much time baking a stupid cake that tastes only half-good. You go to your work party and get introduced to a wave of husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, and significant others. 

You thought you could do this casual thing, but turns out you’re not very good at it. 

Texts to Su-bong get way less frequent, while texts from Su-bong are at an all time high. With the roles reversed all of a sudden, you can hardly form responses to his mirage of texts. What is even the point in texting anymore? You’ll never be anything more, so responding just makes you feel stupid. 

You meet up for a couple more late-night rendezvous, but one night you decide you can’t take it anymore. You lie awake for hours deciding what you’re going to say when he wakes up. When he finally does, you squeeze your hands into fists to keep yourself from crying. 

He’s groggy and barely awake, but he goes for his vape on the nightstand anyway. It’s like he knows this is coming. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” 

“C’mon-” 

“No, Su-bong,” you stand firm. “I can’t do it. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry I’m not like you.” 

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Su-bong chews up his third or fourth pill of the day. He had taken more than he had wanted, but did he ever get what he wanted? No. Did he deserve what he wanted? Also no. He wanted you–he needed you–but he fucked that up. So now he didn’t deserve you and he didn’t have you. What a killer combo. 

When you had asked him to come to your work party, he nearly panicked. He wasn’t the type of guy you take to office work parties. You knew that so why did you even ask? Fuck, this wasn’t your fault. It was his. 

He should’ve just said yes. Should’ve just sucked down his fear and put on a nice outfit and a fake smile and shaken hands with all the people from your work that you can’t stand. Instead, he made you do that all by yourself. Who knows, maybe Ji-woon from your job turned out to not be so bad. Maybe you and Ji-woon are sucking face right now in the office break room. Ji-woon doesn’t have to do much to be less of an asshole than him! 

And when you’d broken things off, you’d said that you weren’t like him. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He thought he wasn’t like you at first, too. He didn’t think he was the type of person to catch feelings after one night and blow up someone’s phone, but turns out he is that type of person. Just like you. He thought he made it obvious, when he started texting you constantly after declining your work party invitation. It still wasn’t your fault that you didn’t realize. He should’ve spelled it out for you. He wishes he still had the chance. But even if you were right in front of him, he would still struggle to find the words to tell you how he felt. Fuck, why did he have to be like this? It doesn’t really matter. He’s probably never going to see you again.

The girl in the seat beside him stirs. He had completely forgotten about her. If he squints, she almost looks like you. Actually, no she doesn’t. No one does. 

“Thanos,” she purrs in his ear. “Let’s go dance!” 

Thanos. You never called him Thanos, not even around his friends. He liked it better that way. 

She starts kissing his jawline, and he turns so his mouth meets hers. He entertains it for a minute, but then he pulls away. She’s not you. 

“Sorry, this won’t work. You should go.” 

The girl looks at him bewildered, before calling him an asshole and storming away. Nam-gyu slides into the seat where the girl once was. 

“Dude, what’s going on? That’s the third girl this week you’ve fumbled.” 

Su-bong wouldn’t call it fumbling. He tried to make it work, tried to forget about you, but he couldn’t. So he pushed the girls away. 

“C’mon, dude. Are you really caught up over that girl? I thought you said you didn’t really like her?” 

“I do,” he says, jaw tense. “I do like her. So fucking much.” 

“Well, then you better tell her before it’s too late…” Nam-gyu gestures toward the bar where a familiar face is sitting. 

Su-bong nearly falls out of his seat. You’re here and he has another chance. He’s on his feet and halfway to you when he sees him. Some loser has his arm wrapped around your waist. It’s not Ji-woon, but it might as well be. You know what? Su-bong doesn’t care, he’s going to talk to you anyway. 

“Hey, Señorita,” he says, sliding into the spot beside you. 

He swears he sees your eyes light up for a minute, until the leech at your side speaks up. “Hey, buddy, she’s spoken for-”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I know him.” 

Su-bong pulls you into a tight hug that forces the dude to drop his arm to his side. He wraps his arms around your waist so tightly, and he could just melt when he feels you wrap your arms around his neck. This probably looks really weird to the guy. Good. 

You pull away from the hug, so he reluctantly does as well. Then, he starts to lean in to kiss you, and this time you stop him. “You should drink some water, go home, get some sleep.” 

Shit. He didn’t realize he looks high out of his mind. At least you’re sweet about it. At least you still care. 

“Uh, we gotta go,” the loser at your side says, pulling you away. 

He didn’t get to tell you how he felt. Maybe it was too late for the two of you. It was definitely too late. But he still wanted to tell you how he felt. You deserved that much. Now he just needs to find a way to tell you.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The guy your coworker set you up with drags you outside. “That was weird. Who was that guy?” 

“My ex?” you say, but it comes out as more of a question. Was that what Su-bong was?

The guy looks at you weird, but then he’s leaning in and so are you. You let the kiss happen. He’s not as good a kisser as Su-bong, but it distracts you at the very least. 

“How about we go back to my place?” he says, pulling away. 

You pause. You could go back to his place–a guy who actually likes you–or you could go inside to the guy who doesn’t like you back. Instead, you do neither. You let the guy down easy and go home to your empty bed. Maybe one day you’ll be able to move on from Su-bong. 

A week or so later at work, your coworker pulls you aside at lunch. “You know that rapper guy you were hooking up with for a while?” 

Your heart drops. “Yes, why? Is he okay?”

“Sounds like somebody is down bad.” She laughs. “Looks like he wrote a song about you.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “There’s no way it’s actually about me.”

Your friend hands you her phone that has his Thanos instagram page open. There’s a picture of his new single. The title of the song is your name and the artwork is a blurry picture of the two of you. Your hand flies to your mouth. This is the guy that wanted to keep things casual? 

“Says he’s performing it tonight for the first time at Club Pentagon. You going?” 

That night you show up to Club Pentagon early, determined to talk to Su-bong about what the fuck is going on. You can’t find him until you spot him right before he’s about to go on. You storm up to him. 

“Su-bong, what the fuck!? You tell me we need to keep things casual and then you write a song that’s very obviously about me?” 

He turns to you, his microphone in one hand and his other hand fiddling with his ear piece. He looks incredibly nervous, but you can tell that he’s fully sober. “You came.”

You fold your arms stubbornly across your chest. “Uh, yeah, I came. Kinda need to figure out what the hell is going on.” 

“We can talk after. I promise,” he says with a shaky breath. “Just listen to the performance, please. And don’t leave without talking to me.” 

You nod your head yes and find a spot to listen to his performance. As he performs, you really listen to the lyrics. Not only were they irrefutably about you, they were irrefutably a confession about his true feelings for you. Your heart leaps into your throat. He likes you. 

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

When Su-bong finishes his performance, his eyes lock onto you and only you. You’re silently crying, tear streaks adorning your pretty face. He waits expectantly, trying to read your emotions. You don’t react at first, your eyes remaining locked onto his. But then… You smile like you’ve just seen the sun for the first time. 

⛧°。Masterlist °⛧

Here it is, Anon! Sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoyed it! 

Also, I have another Thanos x reader story I’m working on that’s inspired by a song. I’m thinking about maybe making a mini-series of (unrelated) fics based off of songs. So if that’s something you want to see, comment or send me songs that remind you of Thanos (or other Squid Game characters)! 

[yoonjae20]

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 5

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Previous.

“What- How-“ Danny sputters, arms flailing. “How did you get in here?”

“Through the door like you did,” Dick quips back, making Danny groan, exasperated as the man steps over the passed out scientist. 

“What about the guards?” Bruce asks and Dick glances at him — assessing him, Bruce now realizes. When he concludes that Danny doesn’t seem uncomfortable around Bruce, not flinching away from his voice like he had been when he first arrived at the manor, he finally answers.

“Only unconscious, not dead.” 

Bruce sighs but accepts the answer.

Dick turns back to the Fentons.

“Where did you guys leave Sam and Tucker?”

“We splitted up, they went down, we went up,” Danny’s father says and Dick blanches.

“Jazz!” he exclaims with horror and the girl holds up her hands in surrender.

“They wouldn’t listen to me,” Jazz defends herself with a wince. “I didn’t want to be colleterial or else I would have gone with them.”

Dick groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What’s the problem?” Bruce dares asking, glancing between the pair.

“Against all odds, Danny is their impulse control,” Dick answers, defeated as Danny grins at the news. “There’s a 50% chance this building is gonna blow up.”

“Meh, we’ll be fine,” Danny states with a throw away hand gesture, smirk still on his lips.

“The last time we let the two loose unsupervised they exploded Vlad’s house.”

“Unimportant,” Danny deadpans, rolling his eyes and Bruce makes a note to ask Tim and Oracle if they have some information on whoever Vlad is.   

“Danny,” Jazz chides but it doesn’t seem to deter the boy. 

“He’s literally a billionaire, no one cares,” Danny counters and slowly starts sinking into the floor. “Now that the reunion is over, I’m gonna go save Jason.”

He’s gone before Bruce can blink and Dick curses. 

“Should I be worried?” Bruce questions, concerned as Dick stares at the ceiling, collecting himself.

“For Jason? No,” Dick replies and Bruce slightly relaxes at that. “My sanity, however? Yes.”

Jazz goes over to Dick, patting his shoulder consolingly like she is used to Dick being overly dramatic — and she probably is, considering Tim’s theory that Dick met Danny and by extension the Fentons during his amnesiac year. (Bruce can admit that he is jealous just how easy they seem to interact with each other — with a sort of openness, Bruce knows they will never be truly able to achieve.)

“Should I go or do you want to?”

“I’ll do it,” Dick sighs and without any warning also sinks through the floor, leaving Bruce standing with Jazz and her parents. The only reason why Bruce doesn’t externally freak out is because the Fentons seem to treat this like it’s normal behaviour for the man. 

The Fentons sans their daughter turn to Bruce with sparkles in their eyes, putting Bruce slightly on edge. 

“What do you know about Ghosts in Gotham?”

Jason floats.

He’s Jason — hiding from his father and watching his mother give out under her addiction. There’s no one to help him. He’s Robin — bleeding out in a warehouse that is rigged to explode with a woman that couldn't be farther from his mother. Help isn’t coming. He’s Red Hood — making B choose between the Joker and him, and getting out with a bat shaped scar on his throat. Help deserted him. 

He feels too small and too big for the world at the same time — like he’ll break apart any minute. Whenever he comes across the Birds and the Bats on patrol he feels like an outsider. Like there is an invisible wall separating him from them. The symbol on his chest doesn’t really belong to him anymore — not in any way that matters. He will always be different. Always just the Robin that died. 

And Crime Alley loves him, but some days it’s not enough. Some days the echo of hysterical laughter haunts him and green swims in his vision and he doesn’t feel like himself — doesn’t feel like he’s actually alive, like the Joker took more from him in a way he can’t even start to describe. (If Jason ever saw his younger self, would he even recognize himself?)

When Jason first saw Danny, it was like looking into the mirror. By now he knows that it couldn’t be further from the truth — Danny has a family that actually cares about him, a support net that catches him no matter what, (that wouldn’t care if he used real bullets instead of rubber bullets) — but that self-loathing? The solemn resignation to sacrifice himself over and over again just to get accepted? He hates that he knows exactly how the boy feels. 

And he hates that he still yearns for what the boy has. The fond way he and Dick talked about his parents, the inside jokes, the trust — it’s staggering, it’s… it’s everything Jason wants. Would Dick have ever returned if it hadn’t been for the GIW? Would he have stayed Ric Fenton if he had the chance? (He knows the answer. And he can’t even blame Dick for it. He would have done the same.)

He comes to himself, body aching and head pulsing, blurry green coloring his vision to the sound of angry, heated voices. One moment he is laying on something hard and the next he is in the arms of someone blissfully cold, the green receding. 

“Dick?” he mumbles out, slightly delirious and tongue not complying, heavy as lead in his mouth.

“I’m here, I’m here,” a soothing voice whispers and he gets handed to another set of hands, those more warm. He leans into the touch as a hand runs through his hair.

“Oh Jay,” the voice continues murmuring as they move, “why are you always so recklessly selfless.” 

“You… the one to talk,” Jason brings out and Dick snorts, laughing softly.

“I guess I deserve that,” Dick admits before he shifts to support Jason better. “Come on, work with me, or else B will have an aneurysm if he sees you like this.” 

“What’s the old man doing here?” Jason questions, staggering a bit as he stumbles over the floor under his feet. A hand around his shoulder steadies him. 

“You know how paranoid he is, he wouldn't have let either me or you go off like this.”

The harshness in his tone from when he had talked about B when he recruited Jason for help is gone, replaced with resigned fondness. Something must have happened while Jason was out. 

“You good?” Jason asks, referring to Bruce and the man understands as he lets out a sigh.

“Better at least,” he says truthfully. “Danny told me he apologized and everything.”

Jason knits his eyebrows together, still baffled as to why (or more like what Bruce did again so)  there was bad blood between them — bad enough that Dick had been angry on the boy’s behalf. He’ll have to ask later.

“Good,” he hums nevertheless. “Serves him right.”

Dick snickers and Jason grins, crooked. 

“Where’s Danny?” Jason follows up, surroundings finally becoming clearer around him and not seeing the black haired boy next to them. His body still feels like it was run over with a truck. 

“He’s wrangling Sam and Tucker,” Dick answers and Jason confused look he adds, “Don’t worry, if anyone is going to be hurt, it’ll be the GIW.”

They walk past several unconscious…actually Jason can’t really tell if they are even alive, people in white suits as well as more than a several holes in the walls and Jason blinks at the chaos.

“Case in point,” Dick states when he sees Jason look at the carnage. 

“We can’t let them meet Tim,” the thought suddenly comes to Jason’s mind as he remembers how they only found out that the boy exploded several of the League of Assassin’s bases and apparently knows Ra’s when the older man came to snoop on Tim calling him “Detective” and Tim asked him where his spleen is. (Tim and Jason might have their differences and their relationship is still more than rough around the edges, but Jason would have gladly beaten up Ra’s if Tim asked him to.) 

Dick chuckles.

“There’s no way Tim isn’t already involved,” Dick breaks the news with a raised eyebrow. “You know how he is about mysteries.”

Jason sighs. 

“Yeah okay, I should have expected that.”

“You should,” Dick teases and Jason rolls his eyes, shoving his grinning face away as they go up a level. 

“Ric, please tell me he isn’t emotionally constipated all the time,” an auburn-haired young woman pleads, perking up when she sees them and pointing her thumb into the direction of Bruce who is still donning his cowl. Jason can tell the man feels a little bit insulted. “Ancients, and here I thought Danny was bad.”

“Then don’t ask,” Dick remarks in jest and she narrows her eyes at the man, glaring at him, but Jason can tell it’s all in good fun.

“Don’t make me talk about the S incident-”

“Okay, okay, no need to pack out the big guns,” Dick interrupts, flailing a little bit and Jason commits to somehow find out what they are talking about. That sounds like good blackmail material. Steph is gonna love it.

Dick must notice his evil grin because he points a finger at Jason.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jason grins just wider.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh, are we talking about the time Ric accidently phased out of his pants in the middle of the street and was left standing in his Superman boxers?” Danny exclaims, mischief in his voice.  

“You traitor!” Dick screeches and flings himself at Danny who just cackles and tries hiding behind a goth girl and a boy with brown skin in glasses — probably Sam and Tucker, who just shake their heads at the display.

“Boys!” Danny’s father calls and Dick stops where he is giving Danny a noogie, still grumbling even as Danny laughs, delighted. He doesn’t quite release the boy, leaving an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders as they both straighten. 

The man raises an eyebrow at both of them before he breaks into a big smile and pulls them into a hug that both melt into. The man inspects Dick’s face, eyebrows crinkling.

“Did you get thinner?” he questions, gently grasping Dick’s chin as he rotates the man’s face to get a look at his cheekbones.

“I’ve only been gone for 2 months, Dad,” Dick’s voice comes out slightly muffled as the man squeezes his cheeks with a worried look. 

“You are smothering him, dear,” Danny’s mother interrupts, putting a warning hand on the man’s arm. The man lets Dick and Danny go with a slight grumble. “Well Ric, is there someone you want to introduce to us?”

She gives him an expectant look and Dick coughs, obviously awkward. To no surprise he turns to Jason first.

“This is Jason, he’s- he’s my brother,” he starts and Danny’s mother hums, giving Jason an appreciative look before Dick cringes as he turns to Bruce. “And…well…”

“Batman, I am aware,” she finishes for him, lips perking up into smirk. “We had a quite enlightening conversation.”

Dick closes his eyes as Danny smothers a laugh at his dejected expression and leans into his friends. The man lets out a deep sigh.

“I guess we are doing this,” Dick murmurs before he continues in a louder voice. “B these are Maddie and Jack Fenton along with their daughter Jazz as you might be aware.” All three of them wave at that. “They are-” He struggles with finding his words and it’s Jack who cuts in with a proud grin. “We are his adopted family. I have to say, Ric might be our favorite son.” He winks, over exaggerated.

“Hey!” Danny complains, but he is laughing as he punches his father’s upper arm. 

“And of course Danny-o is our favorite son too,” Jack says, ruffling the boy’s hair as Maddie fondly rolls her eyes over her husband's way over the top behavior while Jazz shakes her head. Sam snorts while Tucker just smiles. “And Jason too if he wants to be.”

The man’s smile is warm and Jason startles a little at being addressed, surprised by Jack’s openness. He’s not the only one. Jason knows Bruce long enough to recognize the man is brooding as he crosses his arms, letting out a grunt in response. 

“B is…” Dick trails off, grimacing slightly as Bruce’s attention turns back to him and he minutely perks up, reminding Jason of an overexcited puppy. Jason has to turn away from the sight, holding back his laughter with Danny whose own lips are twitching. “is…” 

Dick’s mouth closes and opens but no words come out. If Bruce’s cowl were his actual ears, they would be drooping by now. It gives Jason the rest as he breaks out in guffawing laughter, hitting Danny’s arm as he wheezes — slightly in pain as his ribs ache, but mostly from how hilarious this whole situation is.

“His look,” he brings out and Bruce’s disappointed stare just makes Jason crack up even more, tears streaming down his face as Jason struggles to collect himself. He muffles his laugh with his hand but everytime he glances back at Bruce, his body shakes once again. Danny also seems to have given up, snickering even when his sister gives him a disapproving look. Sam and Tucker also seem amused despite probably not understanding the situation.  

Dick for his part is a lot more successful at suppressing his lips perking into a smile when Bruce glances at him. It takes Jason a good 15 minutes to calm down as he leans against a wall, not regretting laughing one bit despite how much his sides hurt.

“Please tell me Oracle recorded that,” Jason snickers.

Dick seems to have pity on the older man because he shushes Jason before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“B used to be my sort of mentor,” he decides to go with and Bruce obviously deflates. Maddie nods with an understanding expression.

“That explains your expertise in martial arts,” she says before she turns to Bruce. “Thanks for taking care of Ric, then.”

For a moment Jason expects the man to not even spare the woman an answer but to his surprise the man stiffens slightly, before awkwardly responding with an “Yes. Of course.” 

Jason turns away before he can break into laughter again as Dick rolls his eyes at Bruce's usual emotional constipation and Jazz audibly sighs.

Yes, the Fentons are definitely a riot. 

[horny-ex-catholic]

You know, I post a lot of horny content here but tbh the sexiest thing that's ever happened to me was the time I got embarrassed because I realized I'd already told my partner about this statue I love and they told me to tell them about it again because they like listening to me be excited

[dewgongs]

ughh why do i have to have njghtmares about them

[learn-and-accept]

.

[gibbearish]

oh psa but if you're in an industry that checks IDs and the person in front of you is clearly trans, don't make comments about anything on that ID. for instance saying "OMG your middle name's Danielle? that's my name too!!!" to someone 5 feet tall with a full beard is perhaps not the best choice one could make if one didn't want to put a neon glowing sign above that person's head saying "THIS IS A TRANSGENDER" to everyone they're with

[carnallyricky]

When grown adult men in my dms are actually getting kind of good at grooming and I have to sit here and think about how if I hadn't been raised on internet safety this shit might have worked on me

[alltheprompts]

Dp x DC prompt #13 (yay lucky number!)

What if Danny is introduced to the family not as a gremlin, but as his friend from community College and he is so freaking normal that it makes the entire family suspicious. The only reason Jason decided to bring him along is that he knows Danny seems too normal for their cohort and it will utterly freak out Bruce and Tim, confuse Grayson and set off Damian. Jason though, he knows Danny is only normal for the first few times of interaction, then he starts getting weird even by Bat Family standards.

Jason: Hey. I brought my friend from campus tonight.

Danny: Hi! Nice to meet you!

Bat family: *suspicious eyes* Nice to meet you.

Danny: I totally didn't believe Jason when he said he was one of 5 kids but he proved me wrong. Lol.

Bat family: How'd you meet Jason?

Danny: OH! He's been tutoring me in English class and I've been helping him with Calculus. We met at the library when I was trying but failing to type a paper and ended up irritating him with my groaning. He walked right over asked me to shut up and I apologized and said I was having difficulty *insert English homework here* and he had a look utter disgust and surprise and said "how the fuck are you having problems with that?"

Jason: I was disgusted. That was such an easy topic.

Danny: For you maybe! Anyways I said "Well if it's so fucking easy, explain it to me. And he did! With way better clarity then my professor. So I thanked him and asked what I could do in exchange for help. He then told to stay fucking quiet o he can work on his stuff. And we went on about our business. A week later we were both back in the library again and he was banging his head, so I went over and asked if he was okay and he yelled to leave him alone and he just as I was about to leave I noticed he was working on calculus and told Jim I could help if he wanted. He looked at me like I was insane.

Jason: I was cause you are. Most people don't ask to help after being yelled and cursed at.

Danny: But you had helped me on my english paper! I wanted to return the favor! This happened a few more times before it became normal to meet at the library and work together!

The batfamily is reeling at this strangely normal and meet cute type story and the fact that Jason was going to college and nobody knew somehow (Alfred knew).

After meeting Danny, they stalk him to see if he was acting normal or trying to mess with Jason or Jason manipulated someone normal to mess with them. The first while Danny seems perfectly normal and innocent but after a while they start getting a feeling of something off about Danny like he was both him and not. They also notice that Jason tends to stay calmer when he is around Danny. As they realize he is weird and they slowly figure it out, they actually get less anxious about Danny. As someone not quite normal or human in Danny's case was far more comforting for them then anyone of them managing to befriend an actual normal civilian with no apparent baggage or extreme homelife. A

[pucksandpower]

Malpractice

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: when you agreed to join your cousin Lily at the Las Vegas Grand Prix to watch her boyfriend race, you didn’t realize the weekend would end with you saving a rookie driver with a concussion from the dangerous schemes of his team

The Williams Racing garage is chaos incarnate. The crash replay loops on the screens above the engineers’ heads, showing Franco’s car slamming into the barriers. The sound of carbon fiber shattering is so vivid in your mind it might as well have happened right next to you.

The footage is brutal.

50G.

The kind of impact that makes your stomach twist into knots. Franco couldn’t even get out of the car by himself, the marshals had to haul him out like a ragdoll. And now, the garage feels like it’s on edge, everyone pretending they’re not watching for updates while they pretend to keep working.

“He’s at the medical center,” someone mutters behind you. “They’re checking him out now.”

Good. He needs checking out. A crash like that doesn’t leave you unscathed, no matter how tough you think you are.

You stand off to the side, arms crossed tightly over your chest, watching as engineers, mechanics, and media relations people swirl around each other, avoiding eye contact but buzzing with nervous energy. Lily had invited you here as Alex’s guest, but you feel completely out of place, like you’re intruding on a family argument you weren’t supposed to overhear.

Then you hear it.

“He’ll be fine to race tomorrow,” James Vowles says, his voice low but carrying just enough weight to reach your ears.

You blink, sure you’ve misheard. But no, he’s standing near a huddle of engineers, speaking in clipped tones like this is just another logistical problem to solve. “We can’t find a replacement on such short notice,” he continues, “so we need him in the car. No excuses.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t help it. “You’re joking,” you blurt out.

James and the engineers freeze, turning to you like you’re some alien creature who’s wandered into their secret lair.

He recovers quickly, offering a tight smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met-”

“Are you serious right now?” You step closer, fueled by disbelief. “He crashed into the wall at 50G. He couldn’t even stand up without help. And you think it’s a good idea to put him back in the car tomorrow?”

James’ expression hardens. “Miss, this isn’t your concern-”

“Actually, it’s Doctor. And it is my concern if you’re planning to endanger someone’s life for a race.” Your voice rises, but you don’t care. Let them stare. Let them glare. You’re not about to stand by while they make decisions like this.

“Look,” James says, trying for diplomacy. “The FIA medical team will clear him if he’s fit to race. That’s their job, not yours.”

“And what if they’re wrong?” You demand. “What if he has a concussion? What if he gets in that car and something happens because you couldn’t be bothered to prioritize his safety?”

Before James can reply, the garage door creaks open, and Franco stumbles in.

All eyes snap to him. He’s leaning heavily on his physiotherapist, his helmet dangling from his other hand. His usually sharp, confident features are slack, his eyes glassy. He looks like he’s barely holding it together.

Your chest tightens. He shouldn’t even be standing right now, let alone back here in the thick of it.

The physiotherapist helps him over to a chair, and Franco slumps into it with a groan. “I’m fine,” he says, though his words slur slightly. “Just a little — what’s the word? Shaken up.”

You don’t even think. You march over to him, the rest of the garage fading into the background.

“Franco,” you say firmly, crouching in front of him. “Look at me.”

His unfocused eyes wander to your face, and he frowns like he’s trying to remember where he’s seen you before. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I’m about to save your life, so let’s call it even,” you say briskly. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You hold up three.

He squints at your hand. “Uh … six?”

Your heart sinks. “Okay. Follow my finger.” You move your hand slowly in front of his face, but his gaze wobbles, unable to track it.

“Wow,” he mutters, blinking rapidly. “You’re really pretty.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting. “Franco, focus. Do you feel nauseous? Dizzy?”

“Both,” he admits, leaning back in the chair. “But it’s fine. I’ve felt worse.”

“It’s not fine.” Your voice is sharper than you intend, but you can’t help it. “You have a concussion. Probably a severe one. You need to rest and recover, not get back in the cockpit tomorrow.”

He grins lazily, his head lolling to the side. “Are you my MILF angel?”

Your brain short-circuits. “What?”

He waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “You’re older, right? Like … a doctor? And hot? Definitely an angel. My MILF angel.”

Someone behind you chokes on a laugh. You whip your head around to glare, silencing them instantly.

Turning back to Franco, you take a deep breath. “Okay, you’re clearly not in your right mind, so I’m going to ignore that. But you need medical attention. Real medical attention. Not whatever half-assed clearance the FIA is going to give you.”

He reaches out clumsily, his hand brushing against your arm. “You’re bossy. I like that. Are you the same way in bed?”

You grab his wrist gently but firmly, lowering it back to his lap. “Franco, listen to me. I’m serious. You can’t race tomorrow. You could get seriously hurt. Do you understand that?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression oddly thoughtful. Then he smiles faintly. “You’re really worried about me, huh?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “Because someone has to be.”

For a second, something shifts in his eyes, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. But then he blinks, and the moment is gone.

“You’re nice,” he murmurs, slumping further into the chair. “I like you.”

You sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the Williams team members still hovering nearby. “He needs to go back to the medical center. Now.”

James steps forward, his face a mask of polite concern. “I appreciate your input, but we’ll handle it from here.”

You stand, squaring your shoulders. “No, you won’t. Because if you try to put him in that car tomorrow, I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly what you’re doing. And trust me, the media will eat it up.”

James’ jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods to the physiotherapist. “Take him back.”

As the man helps Franco to his feet, he glances back at you, his lopsided smile still in place. “Don’t go anywhere, pretty doctor. I’m gonna marry you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting the urge to scream. “You’re definitely not racing tomorrow,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

But as you watch him stumble out of the garage, you can’t shake the feeling that this fight isn’t over yet.

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) not my problem ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 앤톤 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ anton tired of being cock blocked by his members  ヾ

boyfriend!anton・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎unprotected sex, having sex while on the phone‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.9k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. thinking abt needy anton who keeps getting cockblocked by the other members then finally has enough 😭🤭 ..

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy love 🫶🏽🩷!!!

it's not like anton didn't like that you were friends with his friends; of course not, he met you through sohee — but it often came at a price; you two hardly got any privacy at the dorms. scratch that you didn't get any privacy at the dorms.

between them constantly just walking into his room , completely spoiling the mood; not to mention the teasing that followed right after by his older members… it's safe to say anton was tired of his members and although he loved them , he also loved getting his dick wet, but his members made sure that almost never happened.

what really did it in for him is when he realized he couldn't even escape it when he came over to your house. “baby.” he whined against your neck. “please , im so horny.” you two had not had any privacy for a while and anton felt like he was gonna burst in his pants. “fuck i need to be inside you before i die.” you chuckled at his neediness. “you're being dramatic ton.”

you weren't gonna lie , you needed him too; both of you were so busy , you were often forced to take care of each other over the phone while he was in a different country — but it wasn't like having him in person. “baby i can feel you.” he grinded his clothed cock against your heat. “fuck ton.” you mewled out , hands flying to his hair. “see you want it to.” he whispered in your ear. “when's the last time we actually fucked?”

you had no intentions of teasing him further. “take your shirt off.” he sat up , throwing his shirt off somewhere in the rush to get you outta your clothes. “can't wait to get inside you.” removing his pants, climbing back into bed with you. “gonna fill you up , nice and stuffed.”

you moaned as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds , legs twitching as his cock head kissed your clit. “fuck , keep your legs open.”

he was positioned at your hole , ready to feel your insides — when the imaginable happened… your phone rang. “fuck!” he yelled frustrated. “calm down , let me see who it is.” you reached for your phone , he was still hovered above you , cock desperate to be inside you. “well who is it?” he almost burst into flames when he saw who it was. “what the fuck could sohee want at this moment?

maybe he was thinking with his dick at the time , because he couldn't imagine himself saying what he said next. “answer it.” your eyes widened , surely your boyfriend lost his mind. “what no , i'll just call him back.” you said. “no he'll just keep calling , answer it."

“anton im not answering it— i said answer it.” his voice much deeper , shocking you , making you answer it almost immediately. “he-hey sohee.”

“took you long enough i could've been dieing.” he said. “im sorry was …” your mouth dropped open as you felt the stretch of your boyfriends cock. “you were what?” your friend said. “b-busy , i was busy.” you pushed at your boyfriend's waist trying to push him out of you, but he was much stronger , holding your waist down as he began to thrust inside you. “fuck keep talking.” he moaned. “was that anton? tell him i said hi.”

you tried to listen to your friend , but his yapping was completely overshadowed by the feeling of anton fucking into you vigorously. “yn you okay?” sohee asked. “you seem distracted.” you bit your bottom lip to contain a moan as antons cock kissed your cervix over and over. “fi-fine , just a long day.”

“you should make anton make you some dinner so you can relax.” you would've laughed at your boyfriend rolling his eyes , had he not sped up his movements fucking you with harsher thrust , you covered your mouth as his cock bullied your pussy. “fuck baby im about to cum.” he whispered. “hang up the phone.” he said. “hee i-i have to go.”

“hold on , im almost finished.” he said, continuing on with his story about something that happened to him — pissing your boyfriend off. “fuck it.” he sped up his pace. “fu-fuck sohee i really need to go.” you stuttered. “what are you even doing?” anton was quick to snatch the phone , still plowing into you. “what does it sound like?” he hit a particular spot making you moan loudly. “now she'll call you back when i'm done.” he hung up , tossing the phone. “fuck , fuck!” he cursed. “im gonna cum.”

your tits bouncing as he pounded into you. “fuck me ton , make me cum.” you moaned. “please make me cum.” he held one of your legs around his waist , the band in his stomach about to snap. “fuck!” you gasped. “fuck im cumming ton , im fucking cumming!” you screamed his name , the band finally snapping , both of you cumming at the same time , your juices coating his length as he filled you up. “fuck.”

“your phone has been blowing up for the past hour.” you said as your boyfriend sucked little marks into your neck post sex. “it's probably the groupchat.” and then it all came back to you , your blood running cold. “oh my god he probably told the entire group what you did.” he shrugged. “ton.” you boyfriend groaned , reaching over to turn his phone off. “now they know to leave me alone when im with you that's not my problem right now.”

“my problem right now is how many times i can make you cum before you pass out on me.”

©LUVYENI

[astrxealis]

amongst all my interests the struggle of being under 18 but into ff(xiv) and wanting to make friends is an absolute pain

[beloveds-embrace]

AND ALSO POLY!141

joking around and calling them your brothers and they go deathly silent because what do you mean tou don’t see them romantically? doesn’t matter if they’re already involved with each other they want you to be just as involved too.

also this is toxic but threatening your various dates, stalking them and taking them out (not in the romantic way) so they have an excuse to hold you close. you get comforted, and they get to embrace your warmth #win-win

Friendzoned? Nah, it’s bro-zoned now 😭

The one good thing about grueling and long missions- were the post-missions.

Without fail, each time, you’d be invited to their house where Price would grill up something delicious and juicy on the barbecue, and everyone would be able to unwind. You enjoyed that time, spending it and relaxing with them.

The dynamic you all shared was easy, comfortable, and fun- at least for you.

You rolled your eyes and tossed a fry at Johnny, who caught it in his mouth with a proud grin and wagged his eyebrows, daring you to try again. “You’re like an annoying big brother, you know that?” you huffed at last, a matching grin on your face.

Johnny froze mid-chew, but you didn’t notice, too busy thinking. “Actually… all of you are like annoying big brothers, now that I think about it.”

You chuckles at your own thought, grabbing another fry from your plate and popping it into your mouth without once realizing the shift in the atmosphere. You didn’t catch the way Soap’s grin had vanished completely or how Price’s hand tightened around the armrest of his chair. Gaz’s usual easy smile was gone, replaced with a cold, unreadable expression, and Ghost… well, Ghost’s dark stare had become a touch more menacing.

The silence hung heavy, but you were blissfully unaware, waving your hand dismissively when no one responded. Your focus was on your phone, scrolling through your social medias. “What? You all went quiet on me.”

Soap cleared his throat, but it came out strained, his voice low. “Brother, huh?”

You hummed absently. “Yeah, you know- family. You guys are my family. Like brothers, watching each other’s backs and all that.”

Price exhaled slowly, sitting back in his chair and running a hand over his beard. “Family.” He repeated, almost under his breath, his voice calm but tight.

Gaz tapped his fingers against the table once, then twice, before stopping abruptly. “Is that all we are to you?” he asked casually enough, though his tone carried an edge you didn’t catch.

“Of course,” you replied with a shrug, not bothering to look up from your food and phone. “I mean, it’d be weird to think of you any other way. You’re my team, my brothers-in-arms.”

You missed the way Ghost’s hands curled into fists on the table, his knuckles white, or the way Soap’s jaw clenched, demeanor replaced with something far darker. Price exchanged a look with Gaz, silent communication passing between them while you obliviously chewed on your steak, still oblivious to the storm brewing around you.

If you’d glanced up, even for a second, you might’ve noticed the way their gazes lingered on you- too intense, too sharp. But you didn’t. And they weren’t about to correct you.

Not yet, anyways.

The first time it happened, you didn’t connect the dots.

Your date, some charming guy you met at a café off base, canceled on you last minute, claiming he “didn’t feel safe” after someone left a threatening note on his car windshield. You shrugged it off as a weird coincidence- maybe it was the universe looking out for you, even. You didn’t want to be dragged into whatever that guy was stuck in.

The second time, a woman from the gym you’d been chatting with stopped replying to your texts entirely after she mentioned being followed home one night. You’d honestly tried to call and check on her, but she just… blocked you. Weird.

By the third time, when a guy you’d met on a dating app ghosted you entirely after his apartment was mysteriously broken into, you started to suspect something was up.

You mentioned it offhandedly to the team one evening, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know what’s going on, but every time I try to date someone, something weird happens. It’s like the universe doesn’t want me to find someone!”

Soap hummed, a little too casually, but you simply discarded that thought. “Maybe the universe knows what’s best for you, bonnie.”

Gaz leaned back in his chair, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Or maybe these people weren’t good enough for you anyway.”

“You’ve got us to look after you. Don’t need anyone else mucking things up.” Even Price added in his own two cents, making you pause.

You laughed, thinking they were joking, but Ghost’s silence was unsettling- actually, none of them were laughing. He just stared at you, his eyes glinting in a way that made your stomach twist. But that was normal for your L.T… even if it’s been quite a long while since he’s made you feel like that.

The fourth time, it wasn’t just a weird incident. It was a full-on assault.

You were on another date- though even you had to admit this one was just… not going well. He was too dismissive, too loud, and the first thing he’d said before you even sat down was that you’d split the bill, and then he made a comment about you eating too much.

You’d sent a simple text to the team groupchat, telling them you really weren’t enjoying this one, and they’d left you on read. Bastards.

But then you date had been walking you to your car when someone stepped out of the shadows- a big, familiar hulking figure in a balaclava. Your date didn’t even have time to react before they were on the ground, unconscious.

“Come on,” Simon said, gently but firmly clasping his hand around yours. You were too shocked to even say anything- what the fuck? “Let’s get you home.”

You didn’t argue. Your heart was pounding too hard, and Simon took advantage of that to guide you to his car.

“Simon-“

“No.”

And thus the silence continued.

When you got back to their house, the others were waiting for you. Price immediately pulled you into a hug before you could demand answers, his hands firm but gentle on your lower back. “You’re safe now.” He murmured, as if soothing an angry kitten lashing out at him from fear. Despite your confusion and the flurry of emotions swirling in your chest, the tension in your body began to melt anyways, always so trusting of your Captain.

Gaz’s hand brushed against yours as he handed you a steaming cup of tea immediately once Price let go of you. His smile was kind, but his eyes seemed… off. Too sharp. “Drink this, yeah? It’ll help.” He said, his fingers lingering a second too long before retreating.

Before you could question the strange atmosphere, Soap tugged you down to sit beside him on the couch. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close as though you were on the verge of breaking. “You’ll be alright,” he murmured, tone light yet firm. “We’ve got you.”

Simon remained silent, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. His presence loomed heavy in the room, his gaze never straying from you. It wasn’t comforting exactly- more like being caught in the sights of a predator lying in wait. Is this what the enemy soldiers thought and felt? You pitied them- but more than that you pitied yourself.

Your hands tightened around the warm mug, your confusion bubbling up like a shaken-up fizzy drink. “Okay, what the hell is going on?” You glanced between them, searching for answers. “Simon knocked out my date! What if he presses charges? And what’s with all this- this hovering?”

“Hovering?” Soap echoed, his arm tightening ever so slightly. “We’re making sure you’re alright, bonnie. That’s all. You said your date wasn’t good, no?”

Price leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke calmly, like he was explaining something obvious to a stubborn recruit. “That man wasn’t worth your time. None of your dates have been. They can’t protect you- not the way we can.”

“What are you even talking about?” you demanded, finally pulling away from Soap’s hold. Yet the feeling of being a bleeding sheep surrounded by wolves didn’t abate. “You’ve been acting so weird lately- ever since I mentioned dating. If there’s something you’re not telling me, just spit it out!”

Gaz sighed, his tone carrying a note of exasperation as he leaned against the couch. “We’re trying to keep you safe, love. Every time you step out with someone, you’re putting yourself at risk. You don’t know these people like we do.”

Your stomach churned. “What do you mean-?”

Gaz chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it, and you did not laugh. “Do you think we’d let you go out with someone without knowing everything about them first? Their names, their jobs, their pasts…” His voice dropped, a edge bleeding into his words. “How to get rid of them.”

Your blood ran cold, and you stared between them. They were dead serious, you realized. “That’s… You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”

No one answered.

Simon pushed off the wall, his massive frame closing the distance between you in just a few steps. He crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. You were essentially boxed in from all sides. “We’re not joking. You don’t need anyone else. You’ve got us.”

“…This isn’t normal.” You whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to process what you were hearing. “This- I don’t-“

“It is normal,” Price’s voice was steady and calm, eyes dark. “For us. For the people who care about you most.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as the implications of their words sank in. They weren’t just being overprotective or overbearing. They were sabotaging your dates, controlling who could get close to you, and now- God, had they hurt people? How many had they hurt? All those people- you-

Your hands trembled, though you braved on even if bravery was the last thing you felt. “You can’t just decide this for me. I’m not some possession you can keep to yourselves.”

“We’re not keeping you from anything you need,” Gaz spoke so softly, you could trick yourself into believing he was saying you could leave and this was all just a mean prank. “We’re protecting you from what you don’t.”

“You should be thanking us,” Proce sighed, pulling out a cigar to smoke. Yet his eyes did not leave you even once, not even for a single second. “We’re the reason you’ve been safe so far.”

Simon’s gloved hands rested on your knees, pinning you down to the couch. “We’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. “Always.”

You wanted to argue, to push them away, but the realization- the full weight of what they had done hit you like a freight train. You stood abruptly, pushing past Simon and cutting through the tense silence in the room. Their eyes followed your every move, like predators watching prey.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” you stammered, stepping back toward the door. “This isn’t normal. None of this is normal. You can’t just- control my life like this!”

“Sit down, love.” Price said, his voice calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable.

“No, no,” you shot back, shaking your head as you took another step toward the door. “I’m leaving. I need some space. This- this is insane.”

Gaz rose from his chair, moving to block your path to the exit. His expression was so deceptively soft, but his stance was firm, unyielding. “You’re not thinking clearly, love.” He said, low. “Just sit down. We’ll talk it through.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you snapped, your voice rising with panic. “You’ve been stalking me- sabotaging my life! That’s not protection. That’s obsession!”

Soap stood then, and his expression made you flinch. He stepped closer, effectively boxing you in again as he joined Gaz. “We’re not letting you walk out that door.” He said simply, but his words were anything but.

You turned toward the only other way out, but Simon was already there, his massive frame looming in the doorway to the hall. He didn’t say a word, just stared, his presence alone enough to make your stomach twist.

Your breathing quickened as you turned back to Price, the only one still seated, though his gaze was sharp and calculating. “You can’t keep me here, Price,” you said, your voice trembling but still clinging to the traces of defiance. “You don’t have the right-“

“We do have the right,” Price interrupted, standing slowly. The sheer authority- the sheer finality in his voice made your knees weak. “Because we’re the only ones who care about you the way we do. The only ones who’ll keep you safe. Your team, remember, darling?”

“This isn’t safety,” you hissed, backing toward the wall. “This is prison.”

Price mouthed the word, then huffed a humorless laugh. “We’re not locking you up. But we will stop you from running into danger. Even if you don’t understand it now, you’ll thank us later.”

“You can’t just-“

“Enough,” Simon cut in, sharp and blunt, his voice cutting through your protests like a knife. “You’re not leaving. Not now. Not ever.”

Your back hit the wall, your escape routes blocked on all sides. Your chest heaved as you looked at each of them, searching for even a sliver of remorse. But all you saw was determination, faces set in stone…

Much like your fate.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 

**

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed. 

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

**

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 

**

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

**

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

**

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

[plussizeficchick]

Close to You | Denki x Chubby!Reader

Summary; Denki doesn’t play when it comes to threats to your relationship, even at the expense of his friends.

Warnings: smut (p in v, implied cunnilingus, breeding kink (I mean it’s me😂) slight quirkplay) mean!Denki (but really only to his friend, he takes it out on your pussy though😣) dickhead!bakugo.

SN: I will be posting the Jungkook fic soon!!😭but this is just a little snack I had preplanned until then😉😂

You weren’t quite sure how you got here.

As soon as Denki stormed through your door, everything had been a bit of a blur. The only things you were able to make out of the senseless rambling was “fucking dickhead” “can make her come harder than anything” “gonna fuckin’ breed her”.

That, that had your pussy quivering.

While you were busy pondering what brought on this sudden shift in your boyfriend’s mood, Denki was thinking of all the different ways he was going to show everyone just how much you’re his.

— —

“Does he always talk to you like that?” Denki looks up at you from where his head is resting on your lap. “Who?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion. 

You’d both decided it was time for you to meet his friends and he couldn’t have been more excited about it. You met with the group at a homey sports bar for the more relaxed atmosphere and besides a few minor flubs, he thought you all got along well. You and Mina made plans to get your nails done together, you recommended the rolling papers you use to Sero, and Kirishima hadn’t found someone with his sense of humor in ages. You even managed to bring Bakugo out of his shell, bouncing recipes off of one another seamlessly. So he wondered what went wrong.

“Bakugo, I don’t really like how he talks to you.” You try to convey without looking controlling. “Like when he calls you stupid and things like that. I mean he even had you running around, getting stuff for him today like you’re some “errand boy”.” “That’s just how he is,” Denki waves you off. He was used to Bakugo’s antics after having gone to school with him, so he knows better than to take it to heart. “And he doesn’t genuinely mean it when he calls me dumb.” He chuckles, focusing his attention back to what’s playing on TV. You sigh, a bit unsatisfied with his answer. “You know your friends better than I do,” You start, carding your fingers through his blonde tresses. “I just don’t think it’d kill him to be a bit kinder to you. You’re not in high school anymore, you don’t have to cater to him.” You say, pressing a kiss to his forehead. But what you said got him thinking.

— — 

If Denki was being honest, he was pretty accustomed to the way things were. And if he hadn’t met you, he was sure that this would’ve been his everyday life.

You hadn’t meant to initially, but you made him realize that there was a sort of hierarchy within his friend group with Bakugo at the head and after being with you for so long, he realized he was actually getting fucking sick of it.

Sure, Bakugo’s kind of behavior is expected when you’re a hormonal teen struggling with new emotions, but now it’s time to get a fucking grip.

He hadn’t even meant for everything to go down the way it did, but Katsuki’s nothing if not a shit starter.

— —

“and then Mina’s gonna pick her up so they can get their nails done. I’m pretty sure they’re gonna head back to (Y/N)’s place to get ready and we can pick them up from there.” Kirishima explained to Denki, whilst simultaneously narrowly dodging a blue shell in Mario Kart. Denki grunts in frustration, his character having slipped on a banana peel. “That sounds good, gives us plenty of time-” He’s cut off by Katsuki’s brash voice sounding from the couch. “Hey, Dunceface, go and get me a milk carton from the kitchen.”

Now, normally Denki would’ve made a playful comment about Katsuki being lazy before getting up and doing what he was told, but after being with you, after spending so much time working on bettering himself not just for you, but for himself, he’s not just gonna be walked all over anymore.

“Nah I’m in the middle of something, anyways, Kiri. I was think-” “HAH?! Did ya fuckin’ hear me? I wasn’t asking-” “Is it really that serious, Bakugo? I’m doing something so just get it yourself.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at Bakugo’s immaturity. Both Kirishima and Sero watch the display with baited breath, unsure why Kaminari suddenly has a death wish. Bakugo’s eyes widen at the blatant disrespect, sparks threatening to shoot from his hands, however, Kaminari doesn’t back down.

Katsuki narrows his eyes before a humorless chuckle escapes him, “Oh, I get it. Ever since Chubs decided to fuck with your dumbass you think you’re a big man. But no matter who you fuck, Dunceface you’ll always be the idiot who can’t function after using their quirk.” Bakugo practically spits. 

If Katsuki had said something like this around a year ago, Denki would’ve probably sulked and went to do what Bakugo had told him to, but now, he felt nothing but pure indifference. “You know something Bakugo, I really used to admire you,” Kaminari starts, a smug smirk making its way to Bakugo’s lips. “I really thought I wanted to be strong like you. But now, now I just feel sorry for you. I mean you spend everyday comparing yourself to Midoriya, you’re shitty to everyone who fucking cares about you and you’re so insufferable to everyone else that no one else genuinely WANTS to get near you.” A humorless chuckle leaves Denki’s own lips, grateful to finally get this off his chest. “You think people want to be around you because you’re cool when the only reason they can even stand to be near you is because of how dangerous your QUIRK is. People wouldn’t give a fuck about you otherwise.” Kaminari stands, collecting his stuff before moving towards the door, “I’ll see you guys later,” He emphasized to Kirishima and Sero. “Maybe you can get him to be an actual decent human being.” He scoffs, walking out of Kirishima’s apartment.

Bakugo’s left stunned, Kirishima’s shocked and Sero’s impressed. Though, it doesn’t take long for Bakugo’s shock to turn to anger, explosions ready to burst from his hands. “He’s. Fucking. DEAD!!” He exclaims, and that’s all it takes to snap Kirishima out of his stupor, trying his best to calm the explosive blonde down.

— —

It’s difficult for you to form a coherent thought with the sound of skin slapping against your ears.

You’re on your knees, arch pressed deep into your back as Denki slams his cock deep inside you. You gasp at the intrusion, but you have no time to recover as he sets an unforgiving pace. “He’s a fucking bitch. Doesn’t know shit.” He growls under his breath, hips canting against the fat of your ass, the sight of the rippling skin making his mouth water. You’re trying to talk, want to ask him what happened at Kirishima’s place, but then he’s slamming against that gummy spot deep inside and you keen. 

You’re limp, practically dead weight as Denki flips you over onto your back. He has your knees pressed against your chest, your pudgy tummy folded over as he slams his hips against yours, the fat jiggling deliciously. 

“Please,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath as he aims directly for your g-spot, your cunt clenching at his unforgiving pace. “Fucker thinks he knows shit about us, I’ll fucking show ‘im.” Denki mutters under his breath, cock throbbing at the warm wetness surrounding it.

He’s ravenous, tongue laving at your neck, sucking the skin harshly. You whine as his hands reach to pinch your nipples, your clit twitching signs of your impending release. “Please, baby. Let me cum, please.” You beg, tears threatening to pool in your eyes. The sight has Denki feeling a bit merciful, after all, you weren’t the one to rile him up. 

So he pulls back a bit, sitting back on his haunches to grind his cock deep inside you, hitting spots you couldn’t dare reach on your own. He guides one of his hands down to your clit, using little shocks from his quirk on the bundle of nerves.

The feeling sends a new wave of arousal gushing from your already sore cunt, but you’re nothing if not greedy for his cum. “Want you to cum in me, baby. Wanna feel you fill me up.” You murmur, cradling his face in your palms. You do your best to keep eye contact, though, with the way his cock is drilling inside you, the action is difficult. You connect your lips together and the act has Denki’s hips stuttering before he thrusts once, twice and he’s filling you up, snatching your nth orgasm unexpectedly from you.

You slowly pull away from each other, though Denki is sure to keep his cock nestled deep inside you, flipping you both over so that you’re on top of him. You trace shapes on his bare chest, slowly coming down from your highs. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?” 

Denki sighs as he thinks back on what led him here. There was no doubt that the dynamic in the friend group has shifted, whether that was in his favor or not remained to be seen but what he could see was right in front of him.

You.

You were his present and his future, and as he slips his cock out of your sore cunt and the rush of his cum gushes from you like a river, his mouth waters at the idea of this being his new everyday. He shakes his head as he pushes you to lay back, situating himself between his new home.

“Just wanted to be close to you.”

— —

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