#and this somehow manages to make him the most important person in the world. twice. because he is the crusty version of samwise gangee

[versevibess]

The Congressman’s Chaos

part one

Paring: Congressman!Barnes + PA!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re his personal assistant, with a talent for making enemies - and causing scenes. But after sparking a war with the wrong Congressman, Bucky’s priorities pivot - from protecting bills, to protecting you.

Disclaimers: Slowburn, eventual smut, sort of an ‘enemies’ to lovers vibe but not quite, series, angst, Bucky is IN LOVE, lots and lots of political themes, no use of y/n, reader is afab, jealousy, possession, all the good stuff, age gap because of super serum!

Bucky viewed you as a pest.

He wholeheartedly believed that he didn’t need a personal assistant - especially one with a mind as creative and as chaotic as yours.

You were like a tornado, purposely misplacing things and causing mishaps just for him to piece back together - the oldest trick in the book, you thought. It made him look like the saviour, as if he had it all under control.

He didn’t know who to blame for hiring you.

He thought you had a screw loose. Perhaps two.

You had absolutely no shame in anything - had absolutely no shame in stooping to the lowest of levels when it came to gaining leverage. Inappropriate photos of his opponent’s being mysteriously leaked the night before debates; private phone calls of yours accidentally being blasted throughout televised conferences once the press became too rowdy.

He was led to believe there wasn’t a professional bone carved into your body - that no thought rang twice around your mind before you sporadically acted on it.

You were never on time, always buzzing from a caffeine high - you’d probably loose your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders. No matter how important a meeting may be, no matter who may be attending, you never knew what to say until all eyes were on you, waiting.

Yet somehow, most of the time by the skin on your teeth, you managed to make it work.

‘Organised chaos’ was what you called it. Every word, every action, every ‘mishap’ was a strategy of yours. No, you didn’t attend a prestige college and have the world handed to you on a silver platter, but what you did have? Passion. And lots of it.

•

“Good morning Congressman Barnes, are we ready for today?”

Your tone was clipped, sarcastic, heels clacking to the strum of your voice.

Bucky didn’t even look up from the document he held, his coffee stone brick cold and untouched beside him. He was nervous. Not because of the debate, or because of the fact that it seemed as though he was playing a loosing game - but because of you.

You had been too relaxed these past couple of weeks leading up to the pre-debate - no input, no outbursts, no preposterous plans to take out the opposition by slipping drugs into his drink. Bucky thought that perhaps you had finally put an end to all of the crazy schemes that seemed to seep their way into his office each day - that maybe, just maybe, you wanted to start doing your job ‘properly’.

He sucked in a breath, document dropping from his fingertips onto the table as his glacier blue eyes met yours.

You raised an eyebrow as you took a seat at the table - it was never a warm welcome when you arrived. In fact, you could almost see the burden you had become to him every time you entered a room. You didn’t care - it was only a matter of time before he realised that you were a blessing to him.

“Whatever you’re planning, I suggest you put a quick stop to it. Now. ” His face held absolutely no amusement, lips pressed into a tight frown.

Meanwhile, you had to bite back your creeping smile. “What could you be alluding to, Mr Barnes?” You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly.

He exhaled shakily, his flesh hand rubbing harshly at the dark stubble that shadowed his jaw. You were more than sure you were enough to turn the super soldier grey; his forehead wrinkling with distaste as he picked up the discarded document and glanced over it lazily with heavy lidded eyes.

“There are spelling errors in this,” he flicked the document across the table and towards you, leaning back in the chair as his eyes met yours with disapproval, “I also asked if you could highlight the key points of the argument.”

You simply shrugged, crossing one leg over the other as you picked at a speck of fluff stuck to your tailored suit pants. “Apologies for the spelling mistakes, I’m sure you will be able to wrap that big brain of yours around them,” you quipped, “as for they key points, Congressman, I have advised you that an argument is best formed from the heart,-“

“- No, you simply can’t be bothered to do a single thing that I ask you to do. Actually, I’m convinced you do it on purpose.”

You let out an amused breath. “Whatever would make you think that?”

He ignored you, which was smart, not allowing you to rial him up any further before the announcement of a reform he held near and dear to his heart.

The truth was, you had nothing planned as of yet. No tricks up your sleeve, no schemes in the works. For once, you decided to take a step back - observe the situation before jumping to conclusions. You knew this reform meant a lot to Barnes, that it may potentially destroy him if he was to see it fall through.

The long anticipated Veterans Mental Health Reform - one that you had discussed between arguments and disagreements for months. It was finally here, looming over your heads like a heavy storm cloud. It had to pass, there was no option.

Which was why you had to be careful.

Of course, just because you had no schemes ready for the reform, it didn’t mean that you hadn’t done your research.

His opponent was Congressman Valkov, a man who walked with far too much arrogance to fit into any media room. You couldn’t deny that the public were a fan of his - perhaps because he was able to sway the ladies votes with a charming flash of his porcelain veneers and a few smooth sailing compliments to each reporter that held a microphone to his lips.

He was voting against the reform. Why?

Because his nephew was attacked by the Winter Soldier.

Not directly. However, his nephew found himself caught in the midst of one of his assassinations, landing him with a scarred face and a broken leg that didn’t quite seem to step the same way again.

This was no conflicting belief in which Volkov held dearly to him. It was a downright petty jab to get back at Barnes for what he had done in his past life.

He was a changed man, and despite the name calling and bickering the two of you often found yourself partaking in, you couldn’t help but wonder why people couldn’t see that. He was no assassin, in fact, most of the time he was nothing but an anxious grumpy mess.

But Bucky knew all this, and still insisted you let him have his fair fight. Just this once, you would allow it, until things landed pear shaped - undoubtedly they would.

“You look like you’re plotting again.” Bucky mused, flicking through his files with a whirl of his metal fingers.

Your eyes snapped open impossibly wider, blinking rapidly to relieve the dryness of your disassociation. You cleared your throat and looked at your watch, 12:36.

“Right, fourteen minutes before we need to head into the House. You ready? Got everything you need?” You asked.

He raised an eyebrow at you, eyes slowly dragging up from the files he held firmly and god - the way that navy blue suit made his eyes impossibly more striking. You had gotten quite lucky really; not only had he refrained from firing you yet but he was also quite easy on the eye - to say the least. It made you want to push that little bit harder.

“Do you have everything you need? A muzzle? A straight jacket?” He grunted as he placed his briefcase on the table and unclipped it, slipping the thick wad of files inside.

You scoffed, standing up from your chair and smoothing down the pleats of your tailored suit jacket. “Don’t talk dirty to me Congressman, save that for your opponent.”

Almost as if you imagined it, for the briefest of seconds, you could have sworn his lips twitched up into a smile.

•

Bucky stepped up to the podium.

Your heart kicked against your ribs, immediately regretting not formulating some sort of back up plan incase this was all to go south. Eyes scanning the room, you looked for an exit, the closest press, journalists - anything and anyone who may be useful as a potential scapegoat.

He cleared his throat, glassy blue eyes grazing over the audience before him.

He remained silent, perhaps a beat longer than he was supposed to.

“Come on Barnes…” You mumbled beneath your breath.

“Every day in this country, we lose seventeen veterans to suicide. Seventeen. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters - heroes. People who raised their right hand and swore to defend this nation with their lives. But when the uniform comes off, too often, so does our gratitude. The transition from battlefield to home is not a switch you flip. It’s a war that too many of them are still fighting - in silence.” His voice was controlled, firm yet only soft. Passionate.

You blinked with shock. You certainly hadn’t written that in his draft.

“This bill - The Veteran Mental Health and Suicide Prevention Act - proposes what I believe should have always been the bare minimum: comprehensive mental health services, greater access to care regardless of income or geography, and direct support for families who carry the weight of this fight alongside them.”

“I know there are some in this room who will say it costs too much - that it’s not the government’s place to intervene. To those people, I say this: we sent them into battle. We can’t abandon them now just because the war looks different.”

“We owe them more than parades. We owe them our action. That’s what this bill is… and that’s why I’m asking for your support.”

He finished, silence enveloping his speech as you picked up your slackened jaw and inhaled shakily. For once, he had taken a grain of your advice, “an argument is best formed from the heart” - he had done exactly that, worn his heart on his sleeve in a controlled, professional manner. Not one of his words were prompted by you, they were his.

He nodded, eyes meeting yours in the crowd briefly as you offered him a quick, reassuring smile.

He didn’t smile back.

“Thank you.” He concluded.

He stepped off the stage and you quickly pushed through the bustling crowds of press and their cameras to find him. Adrenaline pumped through your veins - you were sure he had this, all on his own. You pitied his opponent. There was no way in hell that he could come up with an argument as powerful as he had.

You spotted those striking blue eyes before you had even registered that it was him. He didn’t look happy, overjoyed - not even a flicker of pride in his features as you pushed yourself towards him. If anything, he looked… drained.

Joining his side, you both turned to face the podium.

“That was unbelievable,” you said with sincerity that you didn’t often use. “Very good, Congressman… perhaps you should take my advice more often.”

“Yeah well, don’t get used to it.” He grunted beneath his breath.

You fought every urge to roll your eyes; if there wasn’t as many watchful gazes and cameras, the two of you undoubtedly would have broken into a full blown argument by now.

He kept you around though. Hadn’t even threatened to fire you in a while.

“You can show emotion y’know… just one smile, for the cameras.” You said quietly, shoulder brushing his as you leant closer. The press were like vultures; waiting to strike on any conversation the two of you had which could be recorded and clipped for scandal. No doubt you had already supplied them with everything they needed.

“I know you’ve done your digging,” Bucky’s eyes remained strained on the stage, hands sinking deep into the pockets of his suit pants. “But you’ve never met Valkov - the guy’s a showman, likes an element of surprise…” he clicked his tongue behind his teeth, eyes finally meeting yours with coldness. “You never know what he’ll say or do.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, lips twisting with thought. “Careful, Congressman, or he may land himself a new PA with that kind of praise.” Your tone dripped with sarcasm - you made sure of it. However you couldn’t suppress the slight ache in your chest - you were certain that Bucky had used those words to describe you before. Did he dislike you, that much?

Every metal piece and muscle plane on Bucky’s body tensed as Valkov walked onto the stage. You raised your eyebrows in shock; he was better looking than his Facebook photos - tall, tanned skin, ditched the suit jacket for a tight white button up. Not your particular type, yet you still wondered why on earth this man was in Congress. He didn’t fit the mould.

Then again, neither did Bucky.

“Good afternoon Senate.”

God, his voice. Sharp and cocky, performative. A showman indeed.

A showstopper, to the public.

Your stomach flipped when his eyes met yours. Not his opponents - yours.

He smirked into the microphone mounted upon the podium before speaking.

“You know, I almost didn’t bother preparing remarks for this because frankly, the bill we’re discussing today speaks for itself. And what it says, loudly and clearly, is that emotion - not reason - is driving the agenda in this chamber. Now, let me be perfectly clear before the headlines twist my words: I respect our veterans. We all do. But respect doesn’t mean throwing open the government’s checkbook every time someone wraps their bad policy in a flag and dares us to say no.”

You hissed, tearing your eyes away from the stage and turning abruptly. Your body was on fire. “I’m not listening to this shit!-“ you seethed beneath your breath, for Bucky’s ears alone.

You took a step infront of him, ready to stride for the exit until your entire body locked and froze. An adamantium hand wrapped around your wrist, cooling your sizzling skin like ice and stopping your steps in your tracks.

Bucky inched forwards, tilting his head with warning in his eyes. It felt as though the entire room had fell into silence.

He lowered his voice, eyes flickering to the cameras which had slowly turned in your direction, flashes ticking slowly.

“You’re staying here, right next to me, where I can keep you out of trouble.” His words were clipped, his tone firm.

You furrowed your eyebrows, shock creasing your face as his grip loosened.

The cameras flashed. Again. And again.

You slowly turned back around to face the stage.

“The legislation proposed by my… esteemed colleague, Congressman Barnes, is little more than political theater. It’s designed to tug heartstrings, to make headlines, to play to the cameras. But when you actually read the fine print? It’s reckless. It’s expensive. And it is, quite frankly, dangerous in its naivety. We’re being asked to funnel billions of taxpayer dollars into a system that has already proven itself incapable of real reform. The VA is broken - c’mon, we all know it. This bill doesn’t fix it. It feeds it.”

Your jaw almost hit the ground as you watched the press murmur and nod between themselves. And if it wasn’t for Bucky watching your every move like a hawk from behind you? You would have absolutely done something about it.

Valkov paused, a hand clasping the lip of the podium. The glimmer of silver on his ring finger caught your eye - a wedding band. Useful.

A slow, sly, smirk spread across his face, eyes gazing just over your shoulder to where Bucky stood behind you. You could feel the heat pulsing from your skin, could feel the sweat formed by rage beginning to gather in your palms.

“And I have to say, I find it… interesting… that the Congressman from New York feels so passionately about the so-called ‘invisible wounds’ of war when he’s spent so much time running from the visible ones.”

It felt as though your heart had fallen from your ribcage.

His side of the stage began to ripple with murmurs and laughter.

Your face flushed. Your blood - boiling.

“Let’s not pretend we don’t know what this really is. It’s not about the veterans. It’s about image. It’s about redemption. But the American people don’t elect us to work through our personal baggage on the House floor. They elect us to lead with logic, discipline, and clear-eyed decision-making. And the logical decision here? Is to vote no.”

Silence.

Gut wrenching, mind shattering silence.

“Thank you.”

•

You followed him home later that evening.

The downright disrespect had shaken you to the very bone. Not only the disrespect towards Bucky, but the disrespect towards veterans suffering nationwide was astounding. And people still supported such a creature.

Mentioning money would have been enough - the cost of living had become so astronomical that the public would do anything to protect their pockets from any further damage. But to make personal jabs at Bucky whilst caked in microphones and cameras? This was a whole other level of cruel.

The feeling didn’t come or go, it just simmered. Unforgiving, unfathomable rage. The type that made you twitch.

You switched off your headlights as you pulled up on the opposite side of the road, parking beneath a tree that offered just enough shielding of the street lamps overhead. Your heart thudded in your chest as you watched him step out of his vehicle, briefcase in hand, loosening his tie as he stepped along the cobble patio.

His wife greeted him at the door with a kiss. You grimaced.

He walked inside.

Your mind ticked, spine slouching as you released a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding.

You usually never let it get this far. And if Bucky wasn’t going to agree to play dirty?

Well then, you’d just have to do it for him.

•

Cries of your name followed you as you leapt quickly towards the office building, the bodies of the press practically swarming at your feet as you swayed your way up the stairs.

Another microphone was pushed in front of your eyes abruptly - a frazzled looking blonde woman appeared holding it moments later. Fuck, they were fast.

“What is your opinion on the recent rumours regarding Congressman Richard Valkov?” Your lip curled as you watched the saliva spray from her mouth, your fingers clutching the cardboard takeaway tray so tight that it was on the verge of splitting…

As were you.

You peered down through the blackened lenses of your sunglasses and noticed the spill that ran down the side of Bucky’s coffee cup. You hissed with sheer annoyance, spinning around on the stone stair with a stomp.

The press immediately stilled, watching you with eager, greedy eyes.

You leant forwards, addressing no microphone in particular as you cleared your throat.

“My opinion on the rumours regarding Congressman Valkov are that there is no rumour. I believe the claims that he is involved in ties to private mental health companies are entirely true.” You said, your clear voice backed by unbreakable confidence.

“And what about your personal relationship with Mr Barnes!?” Another called.

Your brows knitted behind the thick frame of your glasses.

“My position is personal assistant. There is no, personal relationship.” You bit back, their questions growing distant as you turned and rushed your way to the landing.

You narrowed your eyes at their blurred reflections in the large glass doors, mumbling incoherently to yourself as you stepped forward and waited for them to open. One hand tugged off your glasses, slipping them into your handbag that hung at your waist.

In the lobby, waiting with one hand in his suit jacket pocket - his face creased with both concern and anger, was Congressman Barnes.

He didn’t say a word to you as you first walked in. He just listened.

Listened to the muffled commotion outside, listened to the soft strum of classical music that played overhead; the receptionists typing; the clack of your heels. He listened, he breathed steadily, he watched you. Carefully.

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine this morning?” You observed with a sour smile, pulling his coffee from the takeaway carrier and handing it to him.

He looked at it, then back at you slowly - as if he had never seen a takeaway cappuccino before. Then, he extended his hands, grasping the warm coffee cup with his flesh one, and dangling the keys to his office in the metal one.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. No, good morning? No, how are you after yesterday? Just silence - not even a thanks for the coffee. Just eerie, deadly silence, and a stare that made you want to sink into the ground.

He took a step forwards, lowering his head to hover beside your ear before he glanced left. Then right.

No doubt he could hear the way that your breath swept out of your body. Your senses were practically flooded by him - the scent of sandalwood and leather almost knocking your feet from where they stood.

“You go to my office and you do not say a word to a soul,” He breathed into your ear, your eyes slowly widening over the shoulder of his charcoal grey suit jacket - to where the receptionist had paused her typing. “Take the key, I will be up in fifteen minutes. There are two articles open on my computer - I suggest you read them.”

He stepped back and your heart stilled as your fingers brushed the metal dangling from his palm.

Oh he was mad. Really, fucking, mad.

You forced a smile to your lips. And for once, you did exactly as he asked.

You didn’t get side tracked or purposely take a detour on the way to his office - you simply got in the elevator quietly, heart pounding in your ears, blood still simmering with rage. Every movement seemed to drag, each second doubling, every floor number that flashed before your eyes seeming to prolong its screen time.

The elevator doors whirled open as ding chimed over your head.

You were adamant he couldn’t be angry at you… after the bullshit Valkov spouted at yesterday’s pre-debate? It had to be some sort of delayed reaction. Surely he had to know that you were just trying to help him - even if it wasn’t in the most, ethical, of ways.

The metal keys to his office dug into your palm as you stepped inside, the door gently clicking closed behind you. That same scent of sandalwood and something light and heavenly blanketed the silent room, the high view over the city almost standing still in the moments that you walked towards his desk.

The computer screen was dark.

You took a seat in the leather chair beside it, hand gently grazing the mouse to brighten the screen.

And there it was - all of your hard work.

An article published by The District Insider, regarding Valkov’s ties to private mental health institutions and how the deciding vote would depreciate his cut of their profits. It wasn’t your best work - you could have provided the proof, yet you saw it as a simple flame - a warning… Valkov could choose whether he fuelled that flame or extinguished it.

Pride flickered in your chest.

It was short lived.

You inched your hand across the desk, hovering the courser above the small ‘x’ at the right hand corner of the screen. You clicked it hesitantly, revealing the second article that hid behind the first page.

Your brows furrowed, mouth parting as an amused breath left your lips.

It was you and Bucky, at the pre-debate, his hand around your wrist. The photographer must have been exceptionally good at his job, considering he had caught you both in a moment where it seemed as though you didn’t want to rip the head off of one another. If anything, you both looked… happy. Content.

Your eyes softened at the unusual sight - you could hardly see your face, but his was on full display.

Perhaps the photographer wasn’t so good at his job. Perhaps, you were too caught up in the chaos of your own mind that you didn’t noticed the way he looked at you. This wasn’t a look of frustration, or anger or annoyance… it was something else.

You scrolled down.

‘Fighting for veterans? - or just fighting temptation’

‘Congressman Barnes sharing a heartfelt moment with his up close and personal assistant.’

More photos flooded the screen. Photos of him towering over you from behind - this time taken from another angle - more forward facing.

His stare didn’t leave you in a single shot.

He wasn’t focused on Valkov. He was focused on you.

You hummed to yourself, eyes slowly blinking with what almost seemed like realisation; your back hitting the expensive leather chair that puffed out at the seams. You twisted a lock of hair between two fingers, swiping the soft strands across your pursed lips - something you only did when you hit a wall; when you didn’t know what to do next. It wasn’t very often.

The office door opened, yet your eyes didn’t leave the screen.

Your mind whirled, your heart almost stilling as you dared to read the lines published beneath the photos.

“Barnes appeared far more captivated by his assistant than the issues at hand, raising questions about where his loyalties truly lie.”

You slowly looked away from the screen, gazing up at Bucky who was now standing on the opposite side of the desk; one hand in his jacket pocket, his face blank, emotionless; bottom lip protruding slightly - as if he was thinking.

It was an effort to even swallow; your throat tightening as you grew aware of the blood that was rushing to your head.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what it was that you were feeling - was it embarrassment? Anger?

Was it relief?

You told yourself that romantic relationships were a waste of time and effort in this job - that you possibly couldn’t split your days between holding everything together here, and at home. But when it was all laid out in front of you? Photos, articles, proof? It was as if it all came rushing to your brain at once.

Why was it, that you went that extra mile for him? Why was it that you couldn’t simply go home once your day had ended? That you simply couldn’t turn your mind off and had to constantly plan what was next, even when it hadn’t even rounded the corner yet. Your mind was a constant loop of thought - but it only ever regarded him, this job, how you can help.

Bucky waved two fingers at the desk, gesturing towards the computer lazily.

“Notice how there were no spelling mistakes? Key arguments clear with a strong hook… really gets you interested, doesn’t it? Maybe we should start drafting my scripts with the same format.” He let out a bitter, breathy laugh - one that didn’t meet his eyes.

You winced, rubbing your face with your hands as a strained groan rumbled from your lips.

“Oh, and I don’t suppose you know who anonymously tipped off the tabloids? Convenient isn’t it? That only hours after the pre-debate they were informed that Valkov is partnered with companies like Mindwell Solutions and TruePath Wellness Group…” His tone was laced with sheer annoyance, but you just couldn’t shake the photos, the article - the way he was looking at you.

You sucked in a harsh breath, shutting down the computer entirely.

“He chose this fight when he made personal jabs at you on that podium.” You eventually bit out, voice deathly calm yet still homing a shake.

“No, you chose this fight!” He argued, his voice raising. “Do you have any idea what kind of person Valkov is?.. Do you? Do you think I’m the only one in this job with a fucked up past and a pardon?” His metal hand gripped the corner of the desk as he leant down to reach eye level with you. He chuckled lowly, your gaze dropping to his lips and that flash of white teeth for a split second. “You think you’re the only one who can play dirty? Well, Valkov - he’s filthy. And now we have the press speculating a relationship between us, he’s not gonna target me - it’ll be you.”

Rage simmered and bubbled beneath your skin, tiny heated pinpricks coating your entire body as you met him half way, slowly leaning over the desk until your face was a mere few inches away from his.

You watched his throat bob, lips part; listened to his breath hitch.

“Well, at least I’m not to blame for that particular article… am I, Congressman?” You accused, your voice lowered, daring.

He pushed himself away from the desk, staggering a few steps back as he ran a metal hand through his slicked back hair. You grinned ever so slightly to yourself, crossing your arms over chest as you leant back into the chair; watching as his back muscles twitched beneath his pressed white shirt.

After a few beats of glass shattering silence, he turned back around to face you.

“You - do not leave my side. Is that understood? This isn’t just politics anymore, this is a personal vendetta he has against me. He wants revenge… and he is going to target you.” You could see his composure begin to crumble before your very eyes. “You do not leave this office without me, you do not go home without security,-“

That was the moment you knew, this was more than just a conflict of opinion. This was why he wanted a fair fight - this was personal. And somehow, you had gotten yourself mixed up in the middle; all for a man you found joy in torturing.

“You contact me when you get home, you do not leave your house without telling me exactly where you are going - are you even listening to me?” Your eyes had unwillingly drifted off with thought, your focus immediately snapping back to him with a scowl.

“You can’t control me Bucky, do not tell me what I can and can’t do.” You said his name like it came with a bad taste.

He jolted forward, hands outstretched as if he was begging you; he said your name - pleaded it. His voice no longer held anger or rage, it was raw. Desperate.

“You have made me blissfully aware that I cannot control a single thing you do, but what I can do? Protect you.”

Your mouth fell ajar, a sharp breath finally scrambling into your oxygen starved lungs.

You found it hard in that very moment to maintain eye contact, every muscle and bone in your body begging you to look away. You didn’t. You held it; held it until it felt like your insides had began to melt from the heat of your blood, your skin.

And for once, fear rumbled inside of you.

Your mind raced. You couldn’t crumble this easily - you had done this for too long, fought bigger demons. There was no way you were going to slip up and fall soft now.

“How much… protection, will I require?” You didn’t want to ask the real question - “how much danger have I gotten myself into?”

Yet you already knew the answer to that. Not once had he ever looked at you the way he was now - terrified, on the verge of shattering entirely. Valkov really must have quite the reputation; considering that this was the first time Bucky had truly begged you to listen to him; especially since you chose to ignore him, most of the time.

“Enough to keep us both alive.” He answered.

part two will be linked here.

🏷️

@star-yawnznn

[borealing]

it genuinely makes me so sad that more people didnt watch three body. it was masterfully done beautifully paced and with so many compelling dynamics relationships and character journeys and with a whole dump of realistic scifi that was explained extremely well And a healthy dose of pure existential horror that i still havent managed to shake months and months and months after watching it. please watch three body. it is so good.

[dearlenore]

CRAWLING BACK TO YOU • S.REID

SUMMARY: when Spencer finds himself back in his hometown on a case, he never expected to run into you, his Highschool sweetheart.

PAIRING: fem!reader x spencer

tags: reader is a trouble maker , reader is a lil manic pixie dream girl core…(sorry) fluff for the most part! Usage of y/n once or twice??

a/n: pretend he’s a normal age in Highschool…

w/c: 1.0K

YOU ALWAYS KNEW you’d run into Spencer Reid again.

Not because you were pining—please, you had moved on. But because fate had a funny way of making things come full circle. And considering the way Spencer used to insist on rational probabilities while you believed in cosmic inevitability, this moment felt like a win.

The moment being Spencer walking into the café where you were currently stirring far too much sugar into your overpriced latte.

You spot him before he sees you. He’s taller, sharper, and still somehow manages to look both put-together and like he forgot what sleep is. The FBI badge clipped to his belt is an interesting touch, but the most fascinating part?

He doesn’t notice you.

Yet.

You wait until he’s focused on whatever case file he’s holding—because of course he’s reading while waiting in line—before making your move. Sliding out of your chair, you weave through the café with the ease of someone who has perfected the art of casual entrances.

Then, right as he’s reaching for his wallet, you lean in close.

“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to show up in my city without saying hello?”

Spencer tenses. Then, slowly—like he’s calculating the statistical likelihood of you being real—he turns his head.

The moment his eyes land on you, you see it. That flicker of recognition. The slight widening of his gaze. The way his lips part, just barely, before he catches himself.

“Y/N?”

You grin. “Doctor Reid,” you tease, stepping back with a dramatic once-over. “Wow. You got all serious-looking. When did that happen?”

His mouth opens, then closes. “I—what are you doing here?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh, living? Some of us didn’t run off to Quantico and forget about our hometown.”

“I didn’t—” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “I didn’t forget.”

“Mmhmm.” You sip your latte, unimpressed. “So, what, you’re just in town for a case? Here to be all important and FBI-y?”

Spencer glances around, then leans in. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

“Ooooh, classified,” you whisper dramatically. “That’s fun.”

Spencer exhales sharply, but you see the small, reluctant smile threatening to form.

Some things really never change.

“So,” you say, tilting your head. “Are you gonna pretend you’re too busy saving the world, or can I steal a little of your time?”

He hesitates, and for a second, you think he might actually say no. But then he looks at you—the way he always used to, like you were a puzzle he never quite solved—and sighs.

“Fine. But only for a little bit.”

You grin, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward your table.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Spencer hesitates for a moment before following you to your table. You see it in the way he shifts his weight, in the way his fingers drum against his coffee cup—he’s debating whether this is a bad idea.

It probably is.

But that’s never stopped you before.

You slide into your seat, crossing one leg over the other as he settles across from you, still eyeing you like he’s waiting for you to disappear. You tilt your head, smiling.

“You know, you can blink. I promise I’m real.”

Spencer exhales, setting his coffee down with a careful precision that screams I am trying not to react to you. “It’s just… unexpected.”

You hum, stirring your drink again even though there’s nothing left to mix. “Unexpected how? Like seeing an old friend and thinking, ‘Wow, I should’ve kept in touch with them’ kind of unexpected? Or more of a ‘This person is a walking distraction and I should flee immediately’ kind of unexpected?”

His lips press together. You grin.

“Should I be concerned that you categorized those so quickly?” he asks.

“I like to be prepared,” you say breezily. “So? Which one is it?”

Spencer exhales, finally meeting your gaze properly. “I did think about keeping in touch.”

Something flickers in your chest. A warmth, a whisper of oh.

But you keep your expression light. “You? Doctor Spencer Reid? The guy who’s too busy solving the world’s problems? Please.”

“I’m serious,” he says, voice softer now. “I just… didn’t know how.”

That makes you pause.

Because for all your teasing, for all the bravado you so easily slip into, there was a time when Spencer was a constant in your life. Back in high school, when he was the awkward genius with too many books and you were the sharp-tongued force of nature who refused to let him disappear into the background.

You still remember the late-night conversations, the times you dragged him out of his comfort zone just to prove he could survive outside of academia. And, of course, you remember the way it ended—quickly, cleanly, like ripping off a bandage.

Spencer got his big FBI opportunity.

And you? Well, you weren’t about to stand in his way.

You twirl your spoon between your fingers, choosing your words carefully. “You could’ve just called, you know. Or written one of those overly detailed letters you used to leave in my locker.”

“I—” He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You still remember those?”

“Please. They were like little research papers on us.” You smirk. “If I recall correctly, one of them included an entire probability breakdown on why we were ‘statistically likely’ to last through college.”

Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was sweet,” you admit, before adding, “and incredibly nerdy.”

Spencer lifts his head, giving you a look. “Well, you liked nerdy.”

You shrug, sipping your drink. “I liked you.”

The words come out easily—too easily—but you don’t regret them. Because it’s true. You did like him. A lot. Maybe even more than you ever let yourself admit.

Spencer clears his throat, shifting in his seat. “And now?”

The question lingers between you, heavy with meaning.

You could be coy. You could tease him, brush it off like you always do. But something about the way he’s watching you makes you pause.

So instead, you smile. Soft. Honest.

“I think I still do.”

Spencer doesn’t move for a moment. Then, ever so slightly, his fingers tighten around his cup.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, almost like he’s testing the word out. “Me too.”

The café hums around you, the sound of coffee beans grinding, of quiet conversations, of the world continuing like nothing has changed.

But for you?

Something just did.

[nidianddeepspace]

full moon rendezvous

vampire mc x werewolf caleb au

summary: imma be honest - there are my own personal headcanons about a vampire MC and werewolf Caleb. Take them as you will.

cw: mdni, smut, sex without a plot, sex with a werewolf, woman on top, degradation, dirty talk, giving as good as you get

Intro | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Finally...Caleb has met someone that matches his freak.

Werewolves are known for their insatiable appetites in the bedroom. When they're not in heat, they have the stamina to fuck all night. But when they sense that their partner, human or otherwise, is in their prime mating season...well, it's a wonder how these partners manage to survive because the sex is on another level and then some.

Caleb is no exception. The moment the vampire of his dreams asked to run with him in the forest, it was a wrap. It wasn't just a run - before they know, they became a supernatural entanglement of the most passionate variety.

He didn't need to shift back to his human form, either. In fact, she insisted on it. Throwing off her clothes with preternatural quickness, she tossed him onto his back like he were a rag doll. He didn't never let her lower herself onto him either - with those big furry hands, he grabbed her hips and all but impaled her. If she were anyone else, that would have broken her.

But she wasn't like anyone else. She takes in every inch him, his cock so big and thick there if she were any other person, she'd be split in half. But this woman was like no other, and if there was anyone in this world who could handle him at his most horny and feral, it was her.

"My, aren't we an eager puppy?" she cooed with an impish grin.

At first, she merely stands still, getting use to feeling of him inside. Her grows as her nails scratch lines into his fur-covered skin. He growls as her walls clamp all around him, eager for heat, clamoring for friction. She arches her back, a sensual howl escaping her lips as he thrusts upward, hitting that one spot that nearly makes her spiral.

Two mythical creatures fucking under the moonlight.

But a werewolf, especially an alpha, can only allow himself to be dominated for so long. With a hungry growl, he flips them around, arranging their bodies so that her back is to his front. He buries himself deeply inside her one again, pounding hard and fast, her body shaking violently with each thrust. Hearing her moans and sighs only instigate him further. If he were in his human form, his mouth would be absolutely filthy. Such a good little girl, taking every inch of his cock like the naughty little vamp that she is. The way her pussy clamps on him like a vice, driving him to the brink of madness? Such an sweet little devil.

It all comes out in grunts and growls, but somehow, she understands him. "Fuck me, you wild beast. Fuck me like the filthy vampire that I am. Fill me up until I'm full...and then do it again." She doesn't need to tell him twice.

They fuck - he fucks her, she fucks him, he fucks her again - all through the night. When they think it's over, their starting again, their hunger for heat, friction, and sensuality more important than anything else. There are scratch marks all over his body and she cries tears of blood, but it doesn't matter because they can't get enough.

Their howls of passion mingle through the air as the full, silvery moon illuminates the sky.

---

The sun is peaking out over the horizon.

The two of them lie side by side, breathless, naked, covered in soil and bits of grass. Caleb's humanity - physical and mental - has returned to him. He cocks his head over to the vamp, who looks back at him in kind, her smile lopsided, steeped in satisfaction.

"Morning, you sexy beast," she purrs. "This is the part where I'd give you excellent after care, but unfortunately, we're in the middle of a forest."

He doesn't respond with words. He leans in, kisses her passionately on the lips. She giggles before kissing him back just as feverently.

She whispers his name against his lips. "And just so we're clear, I can't wait for us to do this again...whether you're a human or a wolf. Especially when you're a wolf."

Yes...she definitely matches his freak.

Author's Note: I am not used to writing smut and this definitely made me quite embarrassed at times so please be kind to me! I hope you enjoyed it!

[makedonsgriva]

Wrote this short oneshot today as a way to practice writing feelings and stuff. Basically, all the emotions Hua Cheng experiences after he gets the news of Xie Lian's third ascension which is the first news he gets of Xie Lian in centuries.

“Xie Lian has ascended again.”

Hua Cheng is in the middle of reading a detailed account of the recent transactions the Ghost City has made with the Imperial Water Demons of the South Sea when He Xuan’s voice ringing in his head through the personal communication array practically stupefies him. He lifts his head slowly, his hair falling back from where it had previously been framing his perfectly chiselled-out pale face, his dark eye unfocused and blown wide in shock. Inexplicably, his mouth drops open.

Xie Lian…

Xie Lian has…?

His hands holding the scroll feel numb, his grip loosening, and the scroll falls to the ground in a heap. Hua Cheng makes no move to retrieve it and instead remains frozen where he had been sitting in the middle of his private chambers. Outside the Paradise Manor, everything is quiet for once, as if every noise died down to give birth to this tremendous, glorious news.

It feels like the earth has stopped revolving. Not even the leaves are rustling anymore. Despite everything being so still around, there is a loud, persistent ringing in his ears. He is a ghost, but Hua Cheng swears that if he had a heart, it would be beating so fast that it would practically explode. Somehow, everything is too loud and too quiet at once. Like he has been sucked into a vacuum and his skeleton is going to explode out of his body. 

Maybe something really happened to his ashes. Maybe his soul is dispersing, and his mind is conjuring up the wildest fantasies to enjoy before he finally bids farewell to this cruel, cruel world. Because it can’t be.

It can’t be. 

It can’t be.

“Come again.” He answers after what feels like a millennium, unsure if he misheard. He must have had. There is no way he heard right. There’s a lump in his throat, and he cannot, he dares not believe what He Xuan said. He must have heard something wrong. His ears must have been blocked. Xie Lian’s name is like a constant chant in his head; maybe he misinterpreted He Xuan. Or perhaps he got tired of going over the same stupid scrolls over and over and started hallucinating.

That must be it! He got bored of the shitty accounts he has to manage and he started daydreaming again.  Because how many times has he daydreamed of this situation? When someone, anyone would tell him the whereabouts of his beloved Dianxia. He starts each day in the hope of some news and ends each day with bitter hopelessness. So how come now, on one of the most ordinary days of his cursed life, he suddenly knows where his beloved is? Is this a sick joke He Xuan is making up? 

But he knows Black Water is not the one who jokes around like this. He would never joke about this. He knows how important Xie Lian is for Hua Cheng. How he worships him every day at dawn without fail. How the only person Hua Cheng cared about while alive and after death is his god, his beloved Crown Prince. He Xuan knows that Hua Cheng is the Supreme Ghost King, but he will fall to his knees in complete surrender in front of his beloved. He Xuan might be stoic, but he is not cruel. 

“I said,” He Xuan says in a slightly irritated voice now, “Xie Lian has ascended again.”

So, he is not hallucinating, after all. It’s true. He heard him right the first time. He does indeed know where Dianxia is now. Hua Cheng has no answer for He Xuan. He wants to say thank you, but the words don’t quite reach his tongue. Thank you feels inadequate. How do you thank someone after they’ve pulled you out of an ocean of misery you’d been drowning in for centuries? How do you tell them that a simple task they did without thinking twice like it was the most mundane thing, actually means as if someone filled a dying earthen lamp with oil again? 

Hua Cheng says nothing. The lump in his throat grows bigger. Xie Lian has ascended again. He keeps repeating the words in his head over and over as if scared the moment he stops, this truth would turn to dust, and he would lose Dianxia all over again. 

How many years has it been? 

Hua Cheng thinks he lost count at some point, but he has a rough idea that it has perhaps been 800 years since he last got any news of him. 800 years since he last saw his beloved, since he was by his side where he belonged.

800 years…

The mere thought of it now is unbearable. It has not even been one incense time since Hua Cheng finally got to know where his beloved is and now, he cannot seem to understand how he managed to live without any information about him for this long. Not knowing about Dianxia is suddenly unthinkable; even the idea of separation is something he cannot endure.

He does not realise when his face becomes wet with tears; at least half of it does. The other half is stained with blood, for his empty eye socket leaks blood, not tears. Hua Cheng is oblivious to the pain and blood; nothing matters to him anymore. His hands tremble as he grips the armrest of his opulent cushioned chair and struggles to rise, but his legs seem to have forgotten how to function. He looks a ghastly sight, bloodied and weak and a crying mess, but Hua Cheng has never felt better. He has never felt this happy. 

Dianxia…

He can’t help the soft sob that escapes from his lips, as if a knot he did not even know was present in his chest is unravelling. His fingers come up to clutch at his chest, his grip is so tight that any more pressure would tear a hole in his robes. Everything around him is suddenly bathed in a golden glow. His room doesn’t feel so cold and lonely anymore. A massive weight has been lifted off him, and suddenly, finally, he can breathe.

When was the last time he cried? Hua Cheng does not remember, but he does not care. 

Dianxia, Dianxia, Dianxia, he repeats over and over softly.

“Oh, also.’ He Xuan’s voice comes through in his head again, interrupting his mindless crazed muttering. “He is apparently heading over to Mount Yu Jun for an assignment.”

That startles Hua Cheng out of his dazed state, and he gets to his feet immediately. “Mount Yu Jun?”

“Yes, Mount Yu Jun. Get a grip on yourself, Crimson Rain. Why are you making me repeat everything I say?”

“I am alright.” Hua Cheng says after he somewhat regains his composure. He tries to answer in his usual snippy tone but it comes out as a croak. “Mind your business and… and thank you.”

There is a momentary pause. This time, He Xuan is the one struggling to reply, unsure if the haughty Crimson Rain actually thanked him, but Hua Cheng is as sincere as he can be when he says those words. He will probably even deduct some of Black Water’s debt for this service. 

“Whatever.” He Xuan says finally, his voice bored and uninterested. Hua Cheng knows the conversation is over.

Then, without any delay, he grabs E-Ming and heads out of his room. There is no time left to waste. 

[callsignfangs]

141 boys as gamers. Yep.

Price:

• Totally the rager.

• Insists the games are stupid and he couldn’t care less about them, he had important work, afterall

• Has to get a new controller/keyboard every few weeks and has multiple controller-sized holes in his walls. Probably even broken a couple mics unintentionally.

• Still plays almost exclusively competitive multiplayer games, tho. Might occasionally dip his toes into horror, challenge, and even collection-based games.

• Unleashes every foul word in his nasty vocab on anyone he dislikes in a game (probably had his mic taken away /j)

Ghost:

• Patience of a saint.

• Tells everyone he doesn’t care about gaming, and tbf he probably cares the least out of the four

• Probably played getting over it with a straight face for funsies

• Also needs to get new equipment often, but just because this dude manhandles it to hell.

• Picks games at random. Probably by the steam homepage. Maybe by requests/recommendations. Does tend to prefer open-world and sci-fi games, though. Also has a very intricate minecraft world he’s spent hundreds of hours on.

Gaz:

• Chaotic as shit

• Always looking for secrets and manages to practically destroy half his game files. He goes looking for an extra coin he missed in a hard to reach cubby two stages back and ends up glitching through the floor twice, skipping three bosses and deletes the save file all in the span of maybe five minutes

• Mans will absolutely feast on any game with decent lore, but actually prefers cosier games like unpacking, minecraft, stardew valley (heavy on stardew). Will happily explore adventure/exploration type games, as well.

• Sits in the weirdest positions when gaming. Mate has both legs straddling the monitor and has folded himself in half like a fleshy garden chair, managing to somehow play the game upside down with maybe a sliver of screen /j

Soap:

• Can’t take shite seriously. Imagine like. A stream with markiplier, wade and ethan as one person. (Gaz is his bob /j)

• Mostly horror games, probably.

• Has gotten banned from multiple platforms bc of this mans OUTRAGEOUS swearing. He pulls out multiple languages, from Scottish to, like, Arabic (ty Farah 😇)

• Speaking of, I think he’s learning a couple of languages. This was bc he accidentally came across a game he really wanted to play that hadn’t been translated to English, so he started learning bits to play it, then he realised he actually really enjoyed learning languages and opening up new opportunities to interact with both games and fans :]

• Most in tune (besides maybe Gaz) with the slang and references his fans make. I like to imagine him saying ‘the girls are fighting’ whenever there’s any fights in a game giggle.

• Has fallen asleep on stream multiple times. Like, he decides to do a gaming marathon and straight up falls asleep in the middle of it. Also if this man doesn’t go to bed at, like, exactly 8pm he will fall asleep right then and there. He’s an old man at heart.

• Makes the stupidest faces. A plot twist had his jaw absolutely snapping to the floor, eyebrows peeking over the clouds and hands on his head. I bet he’s done it so much his jaw clicks.

—

Sosoooo, hey. Im alive 😇😇 Sorry for randomly vanishing, ive had a bunch of personal stuff to deal with and honestly my motivation died a little. I pinky promise im working on asks n stuff 😚 I might stick to more hc-y posts for a bit just to like. get accustomed to everything again. So yaya 😚

[windor-truffle]

even MORE random graces playthrough nitpicky thoughts that i didn't get to last night!

whether people recognize who Richard is continues to be in flux, usually bending to whatever is plot convenient in the moment 😅 it's not bad writing though it's actually pretty realistic; some people would instantly recognize a celebrity walking around in a public place and others would not (*coughmecough*). This also is a nice touch of characterization, establishing things like Pascal's singlemindedness or which soldier NPCs are privy to what the royal family looks like

not terribly important stuff, just me musing on Richard's ties to Duke Dalen. He say's he's "distantly" related but I think duke's are supposed to be next in line for succession (though Cedric seems to surpass Dalen as an archduke). His backstory also sounds almost identical to how Aston became a lord too (tales of graces prequel where all of the lords of windor are party members who travel around with king ferdinand?? 👀), but unlike Dalen, Aston's family never married into the royal family (at least not canonically, but with fan fic we can change that 😤). Lastly I need more screenshots for evidence but unlike most characters, Richard tends to change whether he calls Duke Dalen by his full title or not, maybe because he's one of the few that outranks him.

I somehow managed to forget about the "mwa-mwa hanky-panky" skit 😂 to be fair this one is criminally easy to overlook since it triggers in the alley behind the inn. Pascal has been in the party for all of 30 minutes and she already ships it 😂

it's kinda hilarious how much extra stuff like this is hidden if you go around and explore instead of going to do the plot. like game-wise it makes sense to reward the player for exploring the world, story-wise Richard has already collapsed from exhaustion twice WHY are we making him walk all the way back to Lhant 😂 ah well he's getting his steps in

overthinking lore again but the game makes a point in saying how long it take cryas to recharge eleth naturally, and there doesn't seem to be a technology for people to do it themselves... makes me wonder how the valkines cryas end up being fully restored at the end of the game since they never explicitly show or explain it 🤔 but it does make sense story-wise for people to be freaking out when they're drained, that's a shit-ton of energy they're not expecting to get back any time soon (how long is "a really long time" game??? a human lifetime??? thousands of years??? graces explain!!!)

one of my favorite things to do in this time around is to check all the overworld checkable items with every party member- they each have different dialogue, and it can be really revealing or entertaining! for example, this world map in the Grayleside inn:

screenshots taken from my current point in the playthrough AND the L&L arc because I wanted to see if Richard's dialogue changed and not only did his change, everyone's did!!! to reflect their growth!!! wow!!! 🥰 i 💜 games with attention to detail :) it's cute to see what each person is focusing on: Asbel still cares about his hometown (but has now travelled and learned enough to find it on the map), Richard turns from his preoccupation of "how am I going to fix this mess my uncle made" to conviction of restoring peace like he'd always dreamed, and Pascal, having flown around the world in the shuttle and now can confirm it looks small from afar, is moving on to new and better ideas. 10/10 character writing, I'll have to come back here later to check out the other party member's changes between the main story and post game

[starry-eyed-extraterrestrial]

I was asking what omegaverse classification every member of mötley crüe fell under and then @anaalnathrakhs said that no matter what classification they are, they're always interesting and I'm inclined to agree, so here's a comprehensive list of what I think is interesting about the guys falling under each dynamic.

Alpha Vince - This just makes sense, Vince is cocky and sure of himself with an overly masculine energy. He covers up insecurities with fake hubris and gets aggressive whenever provoked in any way, I mean he literally challenged Axl Rose to a full on fist fight on live television, tell me that isn't alpha behaviour. Also being an alpha gives Vince an excuse to be overly sexual with no consequences, because the media (at least in omegaverse 80s)is always like “oh he's an alpha he can't help it, they're innately sexual beings, if you don't let alpha's be alphas your depriving them of their nature”  basically the media just enables him to fuck more as an alpha, without qeustion.

Omega Vince - This also makes sense somehow. Male omegas are rare and Vince loves being the centre of attention and by being an omega he would definitely stand out, which he loves. However Vince being a man whore would be more frowned upon in this context as “he's an omega, he should be saving himself for his alpha one day!” However I can't decide if this sentiment would make Vince more secretive about his slutiness or far more vocal about it (I'm leaning towards the latter). However I don't think that Omega Vince would feel as confident in his own skin as Alpha or beta Vince would, as being called a used up slut by the media kinda goes to his head and makes him far less innerly confident, but on the outside he's more confident than ever. Don't think Vince would use any supprecents or scent blockers of any kind, all omega natural for him.

Beta Vince - Now this is the most interesting Vince dynamic to write I think. Because in a world where alpha's are important and omegas are held on top of a pedestal, betas are just kinda…there and this would drive Vince absolutely insane. Like totally bonkers. Just imagine him going twice as hard as any of his alpha/omega singer friends, desperately trying to stand out, wanting all the praise and reverence his differently classified friends would get and successfully at that. Vince's ego would be huge and small, he would be calm and insane, graceful yet feral. Beta Vince my beloved juxtaposition friend. (I am deranged, I never see anyone write beta Vince and it is clearly the most interesting of all options) Like he would try to pick more fights then alpha Vince just to prove that he is still worthwhile, even though his classification is not worthwhile.

Alpha Tommy - Tommy does strictly think with his dick, so this checks out. Similar to alpha Vince I think Tommy would use the gize of being an alpha to be an absolute tool. The one dangerous thing about alpha Tommy though is that he falls in love so quickly and he would totally claim the first girlfriend he ever had and then regret it and then just be stuck bonded to a random girl he dated once like…forever 💀

Omega Tommy - Gets claimed by the first alpha who he falls for and regrets it. Omega Tommy would never take any heat supplements and sees his heat as a mini fuck vacation. If Tommy can avoid getting claimed by every person he falls into bed with and manages to not get knocked up, I think he'd really enjoy being an omega. He doesn't have any of the innate omegan shame that I think all the other guys would have as omegas.

Beta Tommy - This would just be Tommy normally, but with the added bonus of not being educated on dynamics really because he's a beta and therefore didn't think it was important for him to pay attention in health class, so like if one of the guys where to go into heat at an inconvenient time he'd just be like ??? “Can't you like…hold it in??”

Alpha Nikki - With him being the band leader low key him being an alpha makes sense to me in the sense that Nikki is in control of a lot of Mötley's output as a band music and press wise. He's a control freak and being an alpha would go well for him since he'd have an excuse to be bossy all the time, with the added effect of people actually listening to him. Nikki would love being an alpha I'm sure, that being said, I don't think this is the best fit for him personally. Uses being an alpha as an excuse to be feral.

Omega Nikki - this is the guy that has the most omega shame of all the guys I think. Like he'd take an insane amount of supprecents and scent blockers and stuff. He wouldn't trust anyone to help him through his heats, and I think for the longest time he wouldn't tell the band, not until he really needed to at least. Nikki hates being out of control and looked down upon. Being an omega would be really hard on his already bad self image in the 80s.

Beta Nikki - Just normal Nikki, he would not understand other classifications needs but he respects them and tries to accommodate them as much as he can without sacrificing his own comfort.

Alpha Mick - Mick is naturally an alpha I think. A very calming dominating presence in a way that doesn't overwhelm a lot of people like the other guys as alpha's would. He's just a very safe feeling. Mick is good Alpha material in my mind. I do think he'd have trouble asserting himself if there are multiple alpha's in a room though, Mick hates confrontation and so he tries to stay out of it as much as possible.

Omega Mick - Now this is an interesting thought, Mick as an omega is (like beta Vince) one of those juxtapositions that would just be fascinating because usually omegas are soft around the edges, submissive and traditionally more and feminine and here comes omega Mick, dominant, rough and crass. A lot of alpha's who are interested in him think he's playing hard to get but he is just genuinely not interested. He wouldn't be omega Nikki levels of insane about blockers but I think he'd wear a cologne that covered his scent up. I also think growing up as an omega would have made Mick even more overly passive, which I didn't think was possible.Anyway, live, laugh and love this idea.

Beta Mick - Makes the most sense in my opinion. Mick is pretty much the best person in the band to give this classification to. He himself is a true neutral in every situation and he can bring the balance like this (not that he can't in other dynamics, it just is a betas professional to keep the peace between the other two dynamics). Beta Mick makes alot of sense and is very accurate to who he is as a person. Also he'd hate to get heats and ruts, so really this pick would be for the best.

Okay, I'm tired now going to bed, but drop your thoughts on me in the comments or just write Starry your a cunt in my inbox with your own opinions on this matter along with it , I'd love to see that :)

[taomyou]

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 20

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 8.7k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking (A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

the moon and

Levi - 6:37 PM

I’m not taking the bus on Friday, no need to wait up for me

Levi sighs as he slips his phone back into his pocket after sending the text, and he crosses his arms as he looks back up at the presentation on the board.

To put it simply, Levi hates a lot of things.

He hates when people point out how weirdly he holds his teacup, he hates when Isabel forgets to do the laundry, and he hates when Hange is behind the wheel of the vehicle he’s in.

Hate is a strong word, though, so he can settle for “strong dislike” to describe his feelings for those things if he has to.

But if there’s anything Levi hates, it’s faculty meetings.

On paper, they’re not so bad.

They only happen twice a year, at the end of each semester, and they’re not supposed to go for any longer than 45 minutes. The presenter is the department chair, and Levi is on decent-enough terms with him.

And despite the fact that he’s only ever been to one of these things before, Levi knows he fucking hates them.

The meeting itself is boring. The department chair, bless his heart, speaks at practically four syllables a minute, and Levi is too respectful to just take out his phone in the middle of the presentation. The information being presented at this “important” mandatory faculty meeting could very well be condensed into a single email, and Levi’s sure that this “meeting” is just a social event in disguise.

Also, because Levi never attends anything that isn’t mandatory, everyone decides that when he does show up, they’re going to swarm him with all the questions in the world.

The older faculty members try hooking him up with their daughters, under the impression that someone like Levi is just dying to settle down, and everyone else either asks him for help in furthering their own careers or how to get their Rate My Professor scores as high as his. That or they ask him very personal questions that he doesn’t want to answer. Maybe that’s why he was able to handle your father so well.

But worst of all: they always announce an end-of-term event.

It’s apparently a Sina University tradition for the architectural studies department to go on a mandatory outing with everyone on the staff.

Something about “bonding” and “trust-building,” whatever that fucking means.

Last semester, it was Shadis’ turn to decide what the event was, and he chose a day out ziplining. Levi somehow managed to weasel his way out of it, having cited the “fact” that he’s allergic to the very specific variant of grass in the forest they were headed to (he is most definitely not allergic to grass, specific variant or otherwise).

This time, it’s Pixis’ turn to decide where to go, and he announces that the staff will all be going to Sina’s Kitchen for dinner. There’s no grass in a restaurant, though, so Levi can’t weasel his way out of this one and has to at least pretend to listen as Pixis announces the details.

The day Pixis chooses for this mandatory dinner? Friday, June 23rd.

As much as Levi already couldn’t give less of a shit about going to dinner with his annoying, nosy coworkers, having this be on such short notice makes Levi care just enough to be angry. Can it even be considered a dinner if it’s starting at 4 in the fucking afternoon?

And did Pixis really have to choose a Friday? For fucks sake, now he has to cancel lecture, which means he won’t be on campus on Friday, which means he won’t be taking the bus with you on Friday.

Levi already went across town yesterday to pick up a pre-ordered tin of midsummer raspberry tea for you. The website advertised the tea as a premium summer blend, and with the end of spring having already passed, Levi figured it’d be a good way to mark that transition.

Not that he cares that much about the seasons enough to know that on his own—it’s just that lately, Hange’s been mouthing off about how great summer’s going to be, and they never shut up about how June 21st was the Summer Solstice.

But anyway, Levi knows that holding onto the tea for longer than he originally intended is going to make him unnecessarily antsy for the moment he gets to see you again.

Not that he doesn’t already constantly feel that way in-between the fleeting Fridays that the two of you share and the miscellaneous chance meetings he has with you every-so-often, but he’s just going to ignore that for sake of finding justification in his heightened dislike towards his colleague.

In the middle of Pixis explaining how the faculty dinner will go, Levi feels a buzz in his pocket, and because he’s too upset at the scheduling to give more of a shit about what’s being said and because he thinks it’s you responding, he pulls out his phone underneath the table and checks who’s texting him.

He’s pretty disappointed to see that it’s just Erwin.

Ugh, he hates texting this bastard. Why’s he always so passive aggressive with his punctuation?

Erwin - 6:40 PM

Are you free Saturday evening?

Well, at least it’s not Hange. Erwin’s plans aren’t nearly as chaotic as theirs.

Levi - 6:41 PM

Sure Why?

Erwin - 6:41 PM

My firm is having a party on Saturday, I’d like you to come.

Levi - 6:41 PM

Why the fuck would I go to one of your work parties?

Erwin - 6:42 PM

Your dear friend is getting promoted, you should come celebrate!

Levi scoffs.

Levi - 6:42 PM

Don’t you make enough money? What business do you have making even more?

Erwin - 6:43 PM

I’m flattered you consider me a dear friend. But you should come! Astraea and our other friends will be there.

At the mention of you, Levi can’t help but let the corners of his lips turn up.

Well, at least if you’re there, you and him can be wallflowers together. Maybe you can even help him put faces to the names of the people you tell him about when you’re talking about workplace drama.

The faculty lady sitting next to Levi notices that he’s smiling at his phone and leans over to try and sneak a peek of what’s on his screen, but when he notices that she’s coming closer, he glares daggers at her. She pulls away quickly and apologetically, and Levi gets back to Erwin.

Levi - 6:45 PM

Okay, I’ll be there

Erwin - 6:46 PM

Excellent! Dress fancy. It's at 5:00 PM.

Before Levi puts his phone away again, he checks to see if you’ve replied yet. When he sees that you’ve read the message and just didn’t reply, he assumes that it’s because you’re busy getting dinner ready and your hands aren’t free enough to type back a response, and he puts his phone back in his pocket to listen to what else needs to be said in this mess of a meeting.

Just like last time, as soon as the actual meeting part is over, he’s swarmed. From every direction, there’s someone begging Levi to agree to a date with their niece, another trying to get Levi alone to talk about his freelance work, and someone else asking if he’s free for a date with them.

And even though the night is both boring and chaotic and the stupid faculty dinner completely throws off his plans of taking the bus on Friday, he can’t help but feel properly compensated by the fact that he’ll get to see you again on Saturday.

✰

By the time Levi’s able to escape the conference room he’s been trapped in for the last three hours, it’s almost 8 PM, and Levi has to run to catch the last bus of the day.

Somehow, he gets there with five minutes to spare, and because it’s so late in the day, there’s nobody else waiting at the bus stop. When he gets on, there’s nobody other than the bus driver who looks more tired than Levi does.

There’s no rush as Levi takes his time getting out his wallet, scanning his fare card, putting it back, and zipping it back into the front pocket of his backpack.

And yet, despite the relative unfamiliarity of this particular night, when he goes to take his usual seat on the bus, he can’t help but continually look over to his right, thinking that the seat feels empty without you next to him.

When he gets home and gets the water to fill his kettle, his brain short-circuits, immediately changing gears to think about whether or not you would like the tea he picked out for you this week.

When he stays up late to finish up with the paperwork he couldn’t finish during the day, he can’t help but feel like you would’ve scolded him for bringing it home with him in the first place.

All throughout the night, though, Levi can’t help but be concerned about the fact you never texted him back. He knows that you’ve already read the message, and you're normally very quick to respond when he sends his tea ratings every other week.

It’s weird, because instead of completely ignoring his phone like the week following the night he fell asleep at your place, Levi’s practically stuck to it like glue.

Every second of every waking moment, Levi keeps his phone close to him, constantly checking if you’ve gotten back to him. He restarts his phone every other hour to make sure that the operating system is up-to-date, and he texts his own number to make sure that his phone is able to receive messages.

Fuck, during lecture on Thursday, he even keeps his phone notifications set to “sound” so that he won’t miss it if you do text him.

Isabel and Furlan notice that something’s wrong near immediately, but it isn’t until Friday when Levi’s getting ready to leave the house that the two force Levi to come sit at their shared dining room table and spill his heart out to them at gunpoint.

Unfortunately for them, Levi doesn’t even know if he has a heart to begin with.

“Get off my fucking back, it’s nothing.”

Furlan sighs. “Dude, there is clearly something bothering you.”

“Yeah, this is worse than when you weren’t using your phone.”

Levi scrunches his nose to feign annoyance, but his breath momentarily hitches in his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We’re not stupid. Literally nobody bought your whole ‘I just didn’t want to use my phone’ bullshit.”

Fuck. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever, man, but at least hand over your phone while you get ready,” Furlan demands. “You can’t put on a suit with one hand, can you?”

“I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Levi!” Isabel groans. “You can’t keep doing this! Are you, like, waiting for a text or something?”

Levi awkwardly purses his lips before opening his mouth to speak, but no words come out.

“Holy shit, you are.”

“I never said that,” Levi huffs, pushing himself up from his seat. He takes his phone out of his pocket and slides it across the table to Furlan. “There.”

Levi all but stomps back to his room to finish putting on his suit, making sure that he looks presentable enough for the crowd of faculty that’s going to inevitably examine every detail of his outfit, and he slips past the dining room straight for the shoe rack.

As he’s lacing them up, he hears the footsteps of Isabel and Furlan as they make their way to the couch. Isabel’s holding out his phone to him from her spot on the couch, so he struts over to get it before he leaves.

“Hey, don’t worry about it too much, yeah?” Furlan advises. “I’m sure she’s just busy.”

“She’s always busy,” Levi frowns. “And how the fuck do you know who it is?”

Isabel and Furlan look to each other, unsure of whether or not they want to test Levi’s patience right now.

“We don’t,” Isabel says, waving him off. “Have fun at your dinner.”

Levi rolls his eyes as he goes to open the door, feeling at his pocket to make sure he has his wallet with him. “I won’t, but thanks.”

When Levi closes the door behind him, the two friends let out an exasperated sigh and sink further into the plush sofa.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

“To be fair, I’d be pretty stressed if I were him,” Furlan muses. “He usually sees her on Fridays, right?”

Isabel readjusts herself on the couch to get a better look at her friend. “He does?”

Thinking back to the note from you that Isabel found in Levi’s wallet, she starts putting together the pieces.

Is that what you meant when you wrote the bit about not paying you back on Friday? Come to think of it, the assortment of tea in the kitchen just keeps growing and growing, and Isabel knows that Levi isn’t stupid enough to buy all of that on his own.

He snorts. “Yeah, it’s the only day of the week he puts gel in his hair.”

“I’m always out of the house earlier than he is on Fridays, but have you ever seen him bring anything with him?”

“I guess? Sometimes he takes a box of tea with him, he asks me to make sure that it doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

Yep, that explains it.

God, you’re just as much of a loser as Levi is if your love language is just constantly giving and receiving containers of tea.

“You know, I remember Astraea saying that she doesn’t really drink caffeine.”

“When was that?” Furlan asks. “Was I there?”

“It was when we called her for help at the grocery store! You know, when we were getting ingredients for the egg tarts.”

“Oh yeah! I remember now, that was forever ago!” He exclaims. “So you think he brings it for her?”

“Yeah, and she probably gives some to him too. Like, they take turns.”

Furlan looks over towards the counter space where Levi keeps all the tea. “Explains why we have so much of it in the house.”

Isabel sighs and rolls over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “I really like her, I hope he figures out what’s going on between them. Don’t you think it’s weird, though, that he’s kept it up for so long?”

“What do you mean?”

Isabel covers her eyes from the lights with her forearm, moving around to get more comfortable. “Levi doesn’t really care about paying people back that much,” she says. “Well, he does, but he doesn’t let it happen again after the first time.”

Furlan hums to himself. “You remember that one architectural basics class he made me take with him?”

Isabel nods, her arm still over her face. “Yeah, you dropped it after, like, a week. Why’re you bringing it up now?”

He shrugs. “Before I dropped out, the professor talked a lot about repayments and shit, and how you have to keep track of all the stuff you do for people.”

“So? I don’t think he’s constantly getting her tea just because one professor told him to act like a fucking debt collector in his professional relationships.”

“Hey!” Furlan exclaims. “Don’t put words in my mouth, I never said that! But anyway, he’d say some shit like, ‘oh, if you need to meet with a client, then you can just pull up their reimbursement sheet and use that as an excuse to see them.’ Sounds like what Levi’s doing right now.”

“That’s a lot of unsolicited work advice for a basics class,” Isabel laughs. “But that does sound right! I wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing that?”

Furlan chuckles. “He probably isn’t, but I think once he figures out why he always wants to see her, he’ll be fine.”

A lightbulb turns on in Isabel’s head. “Wait, that actually makes so much sense! She’s a lawyer, and I’m, like, pretty sure that the same concept exists for her too! She’s probably doing the same thing!”

Furlan nods in agreement. “We’re fucking geniuses, aren’t we?”

“We really are!” Isabel cheers, extending out her arms. “Ugh, but they better hurry it up. I’m so sick of watching them dance around each other all the time.”

“I mean, at least they’re dancing together, right? It’s cute, even if it is kinda pathetic.”

“I guess you’re right,” Isabel muses. “It’s okay! I’m sure things will all work out soon enough.”

Furlan looks over at the teas again, all neatly lined up on their kitchen’s countertop, and he smiles gently. “Something tells me it will.”

✰

Levi drives to Sina’s Kitchen with a newfound desire to have the time move faster.

His housemates are wrong. There’s nothing wrong with him being worried about you not texting him back. There’s no hidden romantic undertones to this.

It’s not a big deal for him to be worried.

People ignore their phones for tons of reasons, and Levi just can’t shake away the feeling that there’s something wrong for you to not have responded to his text yet.

He’s allowed to worry, even if it might not be a big deal. For all he knows, you could be ignoring his phone for all the same reasons he did, way back in April.

Though, he can’t imagine what it is about any of your recent interactions that would make you nervous enough to avoid your phone entirely.

But nevermind that, he needs time to move faster so that he can ask you about it tomorrow. All he has to get through between now and then is one measly dinner.

After Levi parks his car and steps into the lobby, it’s already full with the rest of the staff and other restaurant-goers. He keeps to himself, standing off to the side while everyone around him talks, and soon enough, a waiter calls together the party of 40-something people to take them to their tables.

Levi recognizes Marco and nods to him as he passes by, and Marco smiles back at him in return.

Because there’s not enough tables, Marco tells everyone that someone will have to sit alone at the two-person booth that’s close enough to where everyone else is, and Levi volunteers because he’ll do literally anything to avoid contact with the rest of the people there. Everyone chimes in with their thanks for his “sacrifice,” and Marco’s kind enough to offer him another smile for it.

It’s pure coincidence that the booth Levi’s seated at is the one he shared with you on Valentine’s Day.

Unfortunately, it isn’t a coincidence that Pixis “feels bad” for Levi and chooses to sit down across from him.

Marco and a couple other waiters comes back eventually to get everyone’s drink orders, and because it’s near instinct at this point, Levi asks for a paper napkin in addition to his tea. When Marco comes back with the familiar navy blue squares, Levi thanks him, and he gets to tearing at the soft paper to try and make a star on his own.

“What’re you up to, Ackerman?” Pixis asks from across the table. When Levi gives no response, the man laughs. “Chatty as ever, huh?”

Levi looks up and nods apologetically. “Sorry.”

“No worries, I can see how talking to a man as accomplished as myself would be intimidating for an industry rookie like you,” he gloats, leaning back into the plush of the booth seat.

Levi laughs dryly before looking back down at the strip of paper in his hands again. “Yeah, definitely.”

Fuck, how did you do this part again?

“What’s that you’re making?”

Levi thinks for a second before just plainly giving up and telling him. Pixis isn’t going to stop asking anyway; might as well give him the answer he wants now.

“A star.”

“Really? I never would’ve been able to guess!”

At the sudden increase in volume, Levi accidentally rips the paper.

Great, he has to start over again.

Marco and several other waiters come back with drinks for everyone, interrupting Pixis’ attempts to get Levi to talk to him, and Levi takes a sip of his tea before going back to his napkin and starting another star.

He’s mostly unsuccessful.

He does the beginning steps just fine—loop, tie, flatten, fold, tuck. When he gets to pinching the corners, though, he just can’t do it. He always needs you to reposition his fingers in the right spot for him to ever get it right, and tonight isn’t any different.

His pockets fill with the smushed paper disasters that can’t become stars, and he repeats the process several more times only to fail again.

It isn’t until he just blocks out the rest of the noise and pretends that it’s you across from him instead of the old geezer he has to call his colleague that he finally gets it.

He gently rolls the star between his fingers, afraid that it’ll deflate if he’s any rougher with it, and he comes back to reality by the time he puts the trinket away in his pocket.

“...and why can’t summer classes just be in person? You work at a world-class institution for 20 years, and you’d think they have the decency to let you know these things ahead of time.”

Wait, summer classes?

“What’re you talking about?” Levi cuts in. He already applied to teach on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays, just as he has been for the last year; he thought the schedules were already set in stone for the coming summer session.

Pixis turns to him. “You didn’t get the email?”

Levi’s frantic in racking his brain, trying to remember if he did ever get an email about this, but his mind draws a blank. He shakes his head.

“You and everyone else here,” Pixis sighs, taking a sip from his old-fashioned before getting back to Levi. “The dean forgot to email everyone in our department, but the campus is closing down for repairs this summer.”

The campus is closing down?

Wait, but then that means that��

“You good, Ackerman?”

Levi’s quick to nod his head, clearing his throat behind his fist to avoid raising any issue. “Yeah.”

“But yes, a friend of mine over in the engineering department told me about it a while ago over drinks at my apartment, but it slipped my mind until now,” Pixis laments while swirling his glass. “I’d just cancel classes entirely if it were up to me.”

The rest of the people around them agree with the man, nodding and chiming in with their own opinions, but Levi?

Truthfully, Levi couldn’t care less about the change.

His lesson plans have always been accommodating of students who can’t physically show up to lectures. If anything, not having to physically go to lectures would be more convenient for him—his lessons are already recorded, and all he would have to do is host office hours, grade assignments, and answer emails.

Summer classes aren't even active for another month; he has plenty of time to get the logistics sorted out.

Levi isn’t worried like the rest of his technologically-challenged coworkers are.

And yet, while Levi watches his colleagues animatedly voice their disdain for the newly uprooted summer plans, Levi’s head spins, worry coursing through his veins. The worries about you not texting him back leave his consciousness completely, and now they’re replaced with this.

He should be happy.

Having to teach is what got him here in the first place—he didn’t even want to come here. He’d rather be doing literally anything else right now, and he would’ve skipped if it weren’t for the fact that this was literally for his job.

But having to teach is what got him here. Sure, it’s in this seat where he’s uncomfortably forced to be amongst other members of faculty, but it’s still where he’s been sitting for the last half-hour, tearing at and folding the familiar navy blue paper napkin. Where he choked on his water, having seen you on Valentine’s Day instead of Erwin. Where he first got to truly know you as you.

Where he first got to properly see you smile.

No, not one of those fake smiles that you have to offer people when you’re at work or when you’re meeting someone new for the first time. Not the smile that you hide behind a napkin or your hand.

No.

It was the kind of smile that reaches your eyes and fills them with all the lights in the sky.

He’s grateful that Marco made for a comfortable buffer that night to keep you from noticing the red that burnt the tips of his ears, because in that brief fleeting moment, he finally realized how you got your namesake.

Levi took that Greek mythology course with Hange, way back then in undergrad. They probably forgot when they introduced you, but he definitely didn’t.

He actually thought it was pretty funny when he found out you were a lawyer, Astraea being the virgin goddess of justice and all. Her being known as the Star Maiden amongst the other Greek beings also made your little habit of making paper stars just that tiny bit more endearing than it already was.

But when he saw you smile, truly, for the first time, he realized it was much more than just that.

He swears he saw stars in your eyes in that moment, and he couldn’t tear himself away even when you turned away to get your wallet out to try and pay for dinner.

All of a sudden, the paper star—the one he just made—feels heavy in his pocket, and it threatens to pull him down with it.

Suddenly, he wants time to slow down. He wants it to grant him more opportunities to think about what he can do to try and salvage the remnants of the routine he’s grown into, to grant him more opportunities to think about you without these new worries.

In the present, people are still talking to him, but his mouth is on autopilot, forming answers to questions that go in one ear and out the other. When a waiter comes back with his meal, Levi eats it quietly and without hunger, lost in his own mind as he thinks about you.

Somehow, time moves even faster now than it did earlier, and he’s suddenly driving, weaving through highway and suburban streets to get home. He isn’t stupid—he isn’t going to let himself drive recklessly and fucking crash—but he’d probably take that paramount feeling of doom over what he’s about to experience when his mind doesn’t have anything to hold onto.

When he gets home, Isabel and Furlan are already fast asleep, and all the lights in the house have been turned off.

The light of the moon leaking in through the windows is more than enough to let Levi comfortably find his way around the house, though, so he doesn’t bother flipping the lightswitch back on.

After he takes off his shoes and sets his wallet down on the table, he walks over to his kettle, fills it with water, and pushes the button to get it started. He leans on the countertop, elbows comfortably on the stone surface, and he stares at the assortment of teas that line the space.

To some degree, they all blend together.

Not because he doesn’t care about tea anymore. No, definitely not.

The day that Levi stops caring about tea is the day the world stops spinning.

It’s just that… somewhere along the way, it wasn’t about tea anymore.

Inevitably, his eyes catch sight of the two yellow canisters, and he finds himself frowning even deeper than usual.

Even though he didn’t have the courage to admit to you that he’s been holding onto all the paper stars that he’s received from you, he thought that he’d at least someday be able to tell you that he appreciates the little trinkets more than he’s ever cared to let on.

After his kettle hisses, he takes both of the dandelion root canisters and brings them with him to the dining table, along with the hot water, a teapot, and a teacup.

Underneath the light of the moon, he uses his nail to peel away the plastic that seals the lid of the newer container, and he gently pours out a few strands of the tea before pouring in some of the hot water. He’s careful not to go too quickly, thinking back to how you burnt your hand doing the same thing.

Underneath the light of the moon, he pushes away the now-warm ceramic pot, and he grabs the other, more weathered yellow canister. He slowly unscrews the lid, and for the first time, he pours out all the stars onto the table, and he counts them to give himself something to occupy his mind while his tea steeps, even if only for the short couple of minutes that it takes him to do that.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars. This first time, Levi thinks that there’s no way that there could be that many, even if you sometimes manage to make three or four of them from the receipts that you fold, so he recounts them.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars a second time, this time by pushing the stars into groups of 14 groups of 10, which leaves 3 stars left without a group. This time, Levi thinks that there’s no way that he just happened to decide to count all of these out at the 143 mark, so he recounts them.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars a third time, this time by moving the stars into 13 groups of 11, which leaves no stars without a group. This time, Levi thinks that the universe is messing with him because there’s no way that 143 is both the total count of these stars and the number of the bus you take together.

Underneath the light of the moon, he decides that he should stop questioning the count, and he just quietly gathers them all up in one big pile before carefully putting them back into the canister, one by one. Even though he’s accepted that there’s 143 of them, he still counts the stars as he puts them back in, but he loses count right after he gets to 30.

Underneath the light of the moon, he pulls the teapot back towards him and pours himself a cup of dandelion root tea, and he turns to look outside his window at the celestial bodies that taunt him, egging him on to stay awake and think about his current circumstances.

So he will.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi’s mind wanders back to thoughts about the bus.

If he doesn’t take the bus anymore, he won’t be able to have that anymore—those short thirty minutes of quiet, where it seems like the world only exists to pass him by through the window.

Sure, he could just take the bus just for the sake of seeing you, but that’s not exactly the most conscionable thing to do, especially considering the fact that he would have to lie about what he did at work if he did that.

And sure, he could still see you whenever he wanted. It's not like he needs the bus to keep seeing you.

But... that wouldn't be the same.

It's routine at this point for him to see you every Friday. He said it himself—that he didn't want to lose this, and he’s sure that you don’t either.

God, what kind of idiot gets emotional about taking the fucking bus?

There’s no tears for him to wipe away.

It isn’t the end of the world that he doesn’t get to take the bus with you anymore. He still has plans to go out shopping for Isabel’s graduation with you, and Hange will definitely still drag you and him out to events together, and he’ll still be “forced” to sit next to you and watch as you fold the napkins into neat little stars.

And yet, as he continues taking sips from his cup and pouring himself more of the warm tea, the frown on his face just continues to deepen, and he can’t find any happiness to help uplift him.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi accidentally reaches for the canister of stars in front of him instead of his teapot, but instead of putting it back down, he stares down into it. He tilts it so that the opening can have a bit more moonlight shining into it, and he remembers the star he made just a few hours ago—the one that burns a hole into his pocket. He takes it out before it can do any more damage, and he holds it up to the light to see it properly.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi can’t help but think that his own star pales in comparison to yours.

The corners aren’t crisp and clean, the sides aren’t all the same size, and it isn’t as sturdy as yours are.

For a brief moment, he wishes that you’d somehow appear next to him and ask him to trade his own star for one of yours, all because you think his is cuter than yours.

And underneath the light of the moon, Levi gets up and leaves everything at the table.

He doesn’t bother putting the lid back on either canister. He doesn’t bother cleaning his tableware. He doesn’t bother putting his own ugly, misshapen star back into his pocket. He doesn’t bother pushing his chair back in properly after he turned it away to look aimlessly out the windows where moonlight and starlight leak in.

His body moves on its own, taking him to the bathroom and stripping himself of his clothes. He steps into the shower, turns on the faucet, and stares at the wall in front of him as the water falls over his head. Somehow, his arms move to apply soap to his body and shampoo to his scalp, and he dries himself off with a towel he doesn’t even remember bringing with him.

He somehow gets dressed and ready for bed, and he somehow has the clearance to put his suit on a hanger and put it on his bedroom’s doorknob to remind himself to put it away tomorrow.

With whatever’s left of his mind, he recollects himself and thinks to check his phone for a message from you. His resolve is cut short when he sees that you haven’t gotten back to him, but maybe that’s for the better.

He wouldn’t know what to say to you anyway.

Which is why he won’t go to that party at your firm tomorrow.

No, he can’t face you like this.

Besides, you wouldn’t miss him. You’ll probably be busy talking to your friends or folding stars for one of them at the snack table.

It isn’t a big deal. Erwin doesn’t need him there. He has enough charisma to find someone else to celebrate his promotion.

Yeah, Levi won’t go.

Still, he can’t keep his eyes closed for the life of him as he tries to drift off to sleep.

Still, he focuses all of his attention onto that to prevent himself from thinking about whatever he had to think about under the light of the moon.

And still, he doesn’t do a great job of that, because the moon continues to shine pale white light onto the paper stars that're on his dining room table, whether he wants to acknowledge that or not.

✰

When Levi gets up the next day, he feels just as lost, if not more so.

He knows that he can’t just lay in bed all day—he’s too restless for that, and he’s afraid that staying cooped up will just make this all worse.

After brushing his teeth and using the bathroom, he steps out into the kitchen, expecting no one to be there.

Apparently, though, he’s lost his touch in guessing these sorts of things, because Isabel’s already up and mumbling to herself as she digs through the fridge. He notices that there’s nothing left on the dining table, and the chair’s been put back correctly. His eyes dart towards the counter space, and he relaxes when he sees the two yellow canisters in their rightful places.

Upon hearing Levi’s footsteps, Isabel turns to look at him.

“You’re in an awfully bad mood today,” says Isabel.

“What makes you think I’m in a bad mood?” Levi barks, walking past her and to the kettle.

She sighs. “Forget it.” She closes the fridge and joins Levi at the tea space. “What tea are you drinking today?”

“Since when do you care about what I drink?” Looking between the neatly placed assortment of teas and his kettle, he sighs before turning to go back to his room to get changed. “I’m going for a run.”

Isabel doesn’t say anything as he leaves the kitchen, instead opting to remain silent, and when he’s back in their shared living space, she’s poking at her breakfast of toast and eggs with a fork.

She gives him a lazy wave when he looks back at her from the doorway. “Have fun.”

He nods. “Yeah, sure.”

And just like that, he’s off and running (literally).

He has no sense of direction as his legs carry him around the neighborhood, but he still appreciates the reprieve in thought that his burning muscles give him.

It’s been a while since his last run, though, and he forgets how much he hates it.

He loses track of time quickly, not that he was checking for it in the first place. After a good several miles of running, he takes a quick break at a bench facing the bus stop he ordinarily gets off at. Bus 143 comes and goes as he waits there, but he makes sure to signal to the driver that he doesn't need to get on.

The gust of wind that the bus leaves behind when it drives off reminds Levi of all the times he’s wished that he could’ve stayed on the bus with you for just a few moments longer.

Somehow, after a bit more running, Levi finds himself at the bakery of the grocery store on Rose. He stares aimlessly at the rows of pastries that line the glass shelves, and he just barely takes note of the brown-haired baker that hums to herself as she maneuvers through the section.

“Oh, hey!” She exclaims, snapping him out of his staring. “Aren’t you Levi?”

Levi pauses for a second, trying to think of how the baker knows his name. She’s quite young so Levi guesses that she could be one of his students, but he certainly would’ve remembered if he saw a student at the grocery store of all places. He frequents this place often enough, but he just doesn't ever really bother going to this section.

She does look really familiar, though, it’s just that Levi can’t remember where he’s seen her before.

Before he can say anything, though, she laughs. “You are, huh?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She hums to herself, moving to pull the cart of cakes closer to where she is. “Probably not, but I’m friends with Astraea, I sat with her at our friends’ law school graduation. She was just here, actually.”

“She was?”

The girl nods, brows furrowed in concentration as she carefully picks up a cake to put into the display case. “Yeah, came and got a ‘3’ birthday candle. No idea why, though.”

It’s been three years since Erwin’s last promotion, so Levi makes the fast connection that you’re picking it up as something for the party tonight.

“There’s a party tonight, it’s probably for that.”

The girl frowns. “She looked pretty upset for someone going to a party.”

Levi blinks. “She looked upset?”

“I don’t really know her that well, actually, I just see her whenever she comes through here. My friend is her assistant at work, though, and she mentioned that Astraea’s been kinda off in the last couple of days,” she starts, going to pick up another cake. “Wait, you don’t know what’s wrong? Aren’t you her boyfriend?”

Levi blinks again. “What? No.”

At the mere mention of it, Levi’s heart wants to go into cardiac arrest.

The baker looks at him quizzically before shrugging and getting another cake into the case. “If you say so. You should try finding her to cheer her up, though.”

He’d do that if he knew what to say to you.

Fuck, even if he didn’t, he’d do that if he wasn’t so wrapped up in his own head.

“Okay,” is the verbal answer he settles on.

He never gets the name of the baker you’re apparently friends with because he all but runs out of the store.

Well, not actually. It’d be really awkward for him to run in a grocery store as a grown adult.

But he feels like he’s running.

Away from mentions of you, away from things that remind him of you, away from his feelings about you, away from his feelings for you.

His legs eventually catch up with his mind and they start taking larger, faster strides until he’s actually running, and in the brief moment of clarity before his jog turns into a full sprint, he justifies his running away from all things of you by telling himself that there’s no stopping it anyway.

He takes the long way home, running around every block that he possibly can to keep himself busy with something, anything. By the time he’s back at his house, the burning of his legs reaches up towards his torso and his upper body, and the feeling overwhelms him and boils over, and he tells himself that the tears that well up are there because of the sweat that’s gotten into his eyes.

When Levi steps inside, he’s still entirely out of breath as he stalks over to the dining room table. He puts his head in his hands as he vies for the oxygen to reach his tired lungs, but he still presses his palms into the sockets of his eyes to stop himself from actually crying.

He’s so stuck in his head that he completely misses sight of Isabel in the kitchen, humming to herself as she opens the oven to pull out the brownies she’s made while he was gone. He doesn’t even notice she’s there until she puts the hot pan on the table in front of him and the smell overwhelms his senses.

“Hey, you okay?”

Levi sniffles and blinks hard a couple of times, feigning irritation in place of sadness. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Isabel takes off the bulky oven mitts that’re on her hands and heads over to the cupboards to pull out a knife, two forks, and two plates—one for herself, and one for Levi. When she comes back, she tries cutting into the sweet between them, but because it’s still too warm, she puts the knife down on one of the plates before sitting down across from her friend.

“What’s wrong, Levi?”

He scoffs, once again feigning annoyance. “I already said nothing’s wrong, stop asking.”

"Are you going to that party tonight? Hange called me earlier to ask."

"No, I'm not."

"And why not?"

He scrunches his nose. "I just don't want to."

Isabel sighs, propping up her head with her hand. “You know you’re an idiot, right?”

“Sounds rich coming from you,” he rolls his eyes. Upon realizing his mistake, he winces and purses his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, I know,” she waves him off halfheartedly. “But really. You’re an idiot.”

Levi groans through short breaths meant to refill his lungs with enough air to speak. “You do realize that you’re talking to someone with a master’s degree, right?”

Isabel rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think having a master’s in architecture makes you an expert on love.”

Love? What the fuck is she on right now?

When Levi doesn’t speak, she continues.

“I saw the note in your wallet. The one Astraea wrote.”

“You fucking what?”

Levi wants to storm out. He wants to get up from his chair, rush back to his room, and lock himself in there for the next couple of days to make a statement about not looking at his things.

But instead, Levi can’t even find the words to chew Isabel out. He just looks down awkwardly at his lap, trying to come up with justification for the writing on the small sheet.

Isabel shoots him a sympathetic smile before looking out the window and towards the late afternoon sunlight that seeps into their house. “I don’t know what’s got you so worried, but if I interpreted the note she left you correctly, then-”

“We didn’t sleep together,” he cuts in, looking straight at her.

Isabel stares back at him with just as much intensity until she suddenly bursts out laughing, throwing her head back and hitting her head against the wooden top of the chair.

Levi watches in mild fear and alarming embarrassment as he waits for her to finish laughing, and it doesn’t help that she takes her sweet time getting back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” she smiles. “You can’t even admit to yourself that you like her, why would I think you guys slept together?"

Levi gets over his embarrassment pretty quickly to defend himself. "What the fuck are you talking about? I don't like her."

Isabel mockingly tuts, waving her finger in his face. "I know you do, everyone else knows you do, it's just you who's left."

Levi sinks down further into his seat, not knowing what to say.

"Actually, now that I think about it, you probably don't like her."

Levi breathes a sigh of relief. "That's what I fucking thou-"

"You love her."

Levi feels the air in his lungs leave his body, and all of a sudden, his body's on fire. His tongue's caught in his throat, and he has no idea what he's supposed to say to get himself out of this situation.

For some reason, he still can't find it in himself to chew her out or storm away. If it were under any other circumstances, he'd probably just have left a long time ago, but... he just can't.

"No, I don't."

Levi doesn't like you, let alone love you. That's fucking preposterous to suggest.

"Are you sure?" Isabel prods.

Is he sure? He's never been more sure of anything else in his life.

"Yes."

Isabel groans. "Okay, then answer these questions for me."

"Go ahead," he scoffs. "I'm not budging."

"Sure," Isabel smiles gently at him. "Is there anything special about the way you treat her?"

Levi's sure that there's nothing special about the way he treats you.

He looks out for you just like he would any of his other friends—he just happens to be in a better mood when you're around, so he's nicer to you.

He hasn't known you as long as he has everyone else, so he has to be polite to keep up appearances and to make sure that you aren't scared off by his blunt and cold personality.

He makes sure that you're well-rested and safe because you're his friend, and that's just what friends do.

He wouldn't tolerate shrimp fried rice jokes from anyone else, but that's not important enough to factor into his answer.

"No."

Isabel raises an eyebrow at that, but she gets up from her chair. Levi lets out a sigh of relief, but he isn't finished with that when he realizes that she's only getting up so that she can cut the brownie in front of them. She hums to herself while she does it, and she sets down a plate of the chocolatey dessert in front of him before getting one for herself.

"Okay, fine, you don't treat her differently than the rest of us, is that what you're saying?"

Levi nods. He picks up the fork set out in front of him to get a bite of the sweet, having ignored his need for food this entire day, and he melts into his chair at the familiar taste.

"Is there anything special about what you do for her, then?"

Levi's sure that there's nothing special about what he does for you.

He'd give any of his friends a ride home. Maybe even a stranger, if they were that in-need of help.

He keeps every single paper star you've ever made for him in a worn-down canister of dandelion root tea because that's what everyone else does. What, is he not allowed to keep small gifts like that anymore? Fucking sue him.

He pays you back because that's what you do for him—that has nothing to do with him.

Sure, he worries about it constantly and always wants to make sure to express that he's grateful for your kindness and care, but that's not important enough to factor into his answer.

"No, there isn't."

Isabel sighs and takes a bit of her own piece of brownie. "If you can't even answer this one correctly, there's no hope for a loser like you."

"Yeah, yeah, just fucking ask so you can leave and get out of my fucking face."

Isabel shrugs while she continues eating. "Then why don't you just get up and go?"

When Levi doesn't respond, she just shakes her head and smiles.

"Uh huh, yep," she chirps. "Okay Mr. 'I have a master's degree in architecture therefore I am the smartest person ever,' is there-"

"I never fucking said that," he barks.

She groans. "Ugh, whatever! Anyway, is there anything special about your feelings for her?"

Answer this one, and Isabel will finally let up?

Yeah, he's got this one in the bag, because Levi's sure that there's nothing special about his feelings for you.

There's nothing special about the warmth that fills his chest when you're around. Absolutely nothing. He's sure that anybody could fill him with that fire—it's not his fault that you're just the only one who's ever been able to do that for him.

There's nothing special about the comfort that you give him. Nope, nope, anybody could have that effect on him if they're gentle enough. If they're kind enough to treat him as well as you do.

There's nothing special that beckons him to be closer to you. Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. He could hug anyone if he wanted to—it isn't his fault that everyone else in his life just isn't as welcoming as you are.

There's nothing special about the small spark that lights up his heart whenever he sees that you're happy. Nope. People being happy is just a universal good. It isn't his fault that seeing you so happy is just more important to him than everything else.

Anyone could have stars in their eyes when they smile. It isn't his fault that you seem to hold the entire galaxy and its lights in your eyes when you laugh.

There is something special, though, about the feeling that comes to him right now, thinking about all of this, and it makes him want to run.

And for the first time, he knows in what direction he has to go.

He clumsily gets up from his seat at the table.

He doesn't bother answering Isabel. He doesn't bother telling her "thank you" for the brownies she just made with the recipe you wrote. He doesn't bother defending himself against the ever-present claim that he's in love with you. He doesn't bother pushing his chair back in, even though it awkwardly gets misplaced and now faces the sun that's low enough on the horizon to be in full-view through their window.

He doesn't bother with any of that.

Instead, he runs, and this time, it's to his room to grab the suit he hung up on his doorknob last night.

✰

Next Chapter

[sonicasura]

Those new forms actually suits both Kafka and Muramasa quite well, and a bit ironic given I think Tiny and the ghosts he is made up on has had some influance on the Zanpakuto. Have you also thought what Kafka's souls space or whatver the space Muramasa spends most time in looks like as well? I checked out a short vid on youtube and I most say that Koga's was not very impressive. Could use a small island with some greenery at least.

Now I just have the image of Starrk and Lilynette just ending up staying in the KN8 world, with Starrk working at Kafka's cafe on part-time at first and both getting a home schooled and taugh various other thing to actually managing living there. With Lilynette actually getting to go to school after everyone is sure she can handle it as best as possible. She has a fun time, even if her personality sometimes cause messes and trouble in school.

The same with Tier and her Fraccion, at least with staying and working at Kafka's cafe, temporary at that. He is the only one they can truely trust, even though it seems that Mila, Emilou and Sung-Sun don't have the best view of males ingeneral thanks to their experience in Hueco Mundo . At least from what I remember. Kafka might be one of the few expections after getting to know him better.

Would you find it funny Sonic, if Grimmjow found out he can actually turn back into his Adjuchas Hollow form after that little incident and somehow ends up becoming a second tiger Mina has with her on mission? He'd probably like all the strong kaijus he has to fight, specially when 9 shows up in the last wave arc, even if he finds it embarrassing that people thinks his Mina's pet. Kafka no doubt hear a lot of complains from him when he visit.

With Aizen type of arrogance and self-import? Won't be shocked if he taught that Kafka's world is not that much different from his own and no doubt thought he had his little pawns right under his control. Wonder how this change things for not only Aizen but also for Tosen and especially Gin. Kafka and everyone pretty much fliped the table twice over when their worlds got connected.

But I got to ask Sonic, given how both Aizen and 9 are like. Do you think theres a good chance that those two would team up, sort of? I can see neither really trust the other or is more interested to get what the other has to further their own gain. But I can dismiss the fact that those two won't mind work together, even if it is in a very flawed way, should it be needed.

Btw way Sonic, I've been telling my mom about my Kaiju Pet Au. And though she has a hard time understanding the KN8 world, she is giving me new ideas and various other things I'm gonna share with you soon. I just have a few adjustements to left to do. Thought I should warn you ahead of time.

Kafka's soul space is split into two areas. One side happens to be a library with a nice garden in the back. All the books inside are memories of his life experiences, his thoughts, or things he has read. It is managed by Ai, the manifestation of Kafka's inner kaiju.

The other half comes from Tiny which resembles a war torn battlefield full of flowers, sealed off burial grounds, and weathered armor. Only the battlefield is accessible as a powerful barrier keeps anyone from entering the graveyard. Muramasa nor Kafka believe it's a good idea to approach it.

Grimmjow would honestly exploit the ability to take on his Adjuchas form. He's one hell of a looker and prefers not to have random people crushing over him. Mina doesn't mind him coming along on missions even if Bakko does. The Arrancar can have his fill of battle, kaiju cores, and help clear out the more annoying targets.

Starrk, Tier, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow alongside their respective Fraccion definitely show up for the Meireki fight as it happens after Aizen's defeat. They owe a debt to Kafka so helping take down this country wide invasion is the best time to do so. Plus it makes setting up any future arrangements with the Defense Force easier.

Starrk and Lilynette do decide to live in Kafka's world while Ulquiorra serves as a messenger for the restructured Las Noches. Tier runs the place so civilian Arrancar but also sentient Hollows can live there in peace. Since kaiju meat is rich with spiritual energy, they use it as a viable substitute for souls.

Kafka and the Defense Force definitely affected Aizen's Soul Reaper confidants. Gin in particular who actually revealed to Kafka that he was a double agent. Tousen meanwhile was faced with an inner turmoil as these people made him question if what he's doing is right.

Kafka helps Komamura incapacitate the Hollowified rogue captain but also take down Aizen with Ichigo and Kaien's help before he could take Ichimaru's life. Tousen is under Urahara's care to manage his condition. Gin was banished from Soul Society so he works at the Lucky Nekomata with Starrk.

No. 9 has definitely come across Hollows and Aizen's Arrancar. He experimented on the weaker ones as he couldn't contain his curiosity. If those two sociopaths ever met then it won't be an alliance. No. 9 will want to assimilate Aizen and take all he has. The traitor would want to make a weapon out of the mysterious kaiju in return.

Count me curious about any potential changes to your Kaiju Pet Au. Even I have to iron out my AUs at times.

[versevibess]

A sneak peak…

Into my first Bucky fic.

Congressman!Barnes x PersonalAssistant!Reader

She’s a long one though! Let me know if you want me to make it a series 🫠

Bucky viewed you as a pest.

He wholeheartedly believed that he didn't need a personal assistant - especially one with a mind as creative and as chaotic as yours.

You were like a tornado, purposely misplacing things and causing mishaps just for him to piece back together - the oldest trick in the book, you thought. It made him look like the saviour, as if he had it all under control.

He didn't know who to blame for hiring you.

He thought you had a screw loose. Perhaps two.

You had absolutely no shame in anything - had absolutely no shame in stooping to the lowest of levels when it came to gaining leverage. Inappropriate photos of his opponent's being mysteriously leaked the night before debates; private phone calls of yours accidentally being blasted throughout televised conferences once the press became too rowdy.

He was led to believe there wasn't a professional bone carved into your body - that no thought rang twice around your mind before you sporadically acted on it.

You were never on time, always buzzing from a caffeine high - you'd probably loose your head if it wasn't attached to your shoulders. No matter how important a meeting may be, no matter who may be attending, you never knew what to say until all eyes were on you, waiting.

Yet somehow, most of the time by the skin on your teeth, you managed to make it work.

'Organised chaos' was what you called it. Every word, every action, every 'mishap' was a strategy of yours. No, you didn't attend a prestige college and have the world handed to you on a silver platter, but what you did have? Passion. And lots of it.

Let me know how you feel x

[burnedbyshoto]

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

.

.

.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

.

.

.

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 

.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

.

.

“WHAT?!”

.

.

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus! 

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

[moon3thereal]

Hey, i have a natasha x reader request. So Natasha is a very composed person always know what to do and basically everybody is terrified of the ex-assassin. But when she sees you for the first time she gets so flustered and ends up stuttering over her words, and it doesn’t stop every time she sees you her cheeks will turn red and and don’t know what to do, but it’s worse when you will compliment her or tease her, she will blush so hard when you “accidentally touch her” or throw a suggestive joke at her. The avengers will tease her relentless because of this because she is so lovestruck even in important meetings they will tease her to embarrass her in front of fury. Fluffy ending where reader kisses Nat and a very flustered and happy Nat after.

Title: Forbidden Rendezvous

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none but if you find any do lmk

a/n: thank you for the req! I enjoyed writing this one very much and i hope you guys like it <3

1.4k

Natasha Romanoff, the black widow herself, seemingly had a reputation to uphold. She was cold, ruthless, efficient, her instinct uncannily accurate. In short, she was one of the best agents in S.H.I.E.L.D if not the best. The Avenger was also pretty much the most stone-faced, cold-heartedly composed person in the world. She was a force to be reckoned with

That all went to hell when she met you, it was an avengers meeting, to be acquainted with the newest recruit to the Avengers initiative, all the Avengers had been told was that this recruit was a she and that she was one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s most elite agents and was probably here to babysit them and keep them out of trouble.

Which is why Natasha never expected someone like you to walk into the room, back straight, with the same elegant strut she’d found herself using more often than not. There was an air of composure around you, people could take one look at you and know that they shouldn’t mess with you. You had somehow managed to look daintily pretty but if they looked carefully at your posture, ready to attack should a threat arise, highly dangerous.

Once Natasha’s eyes landed on you, she couldn’t seem to tear them away, she was completely fixated on you, all the way from the door to when you took your place in an unoccupied seat with a bright smile on your lips that were painted just the right shade of red. Natasha studied the way a few strands of your hair fell out of your ponytail and curled around your jaw perfectly, framing your face. The way your lips parted to speak, presumably to introduce yourself, the Russian was put in a trance and there was an awkward silence when it was her turn to introduce herself

Clint, who was sitting next to her, raised an eyebrow at the dreamy look on her face and had to nudge her twice before she jumped slightly, startled and glared at him, he gestured to you and Natasha’s expression of indignation morphed to one of embarrassment and back to her original neutrality. You had noticed Natasha’s lingering stare on you, not the stare you’d seen her use on so many interrogatees and victims of her wrath, this stare was softer, almost like she was captivated by you

After a solid five seconds of Natasha pulling herself together, she extended her hand to you with a soft “hi, Natasha Romanoff” and before you had the chance to introduce yourself, she said “I mean, I’m Natasha Romanoff, you’re y/n y/l/n, I didn’t, I know you’re not Natasha Romanoff” The Avengers all had looks of astonishment on her face, she was always composed, even in the worst situations, none of them had ever seen her like this. Damn you Natasha she thought, she had absolutely no idea why her brain was short circuiting like this, it had never happened before

You laughed lightly before extending your own and shaking hers that was slightly sweaty, “hi, nice to meet you” she nodded, evidently flustered. How can someone be this perfect she thought. She’d seen you training in S.H.I.E.L.D quarters a few times but since she spent most of her time in the Avengers compound now, she’d never seen you up close.

After the meeting, which she hadn’t paid attention to anything else but the crease in your brows when you were concentrating, the way you knew how to disagree without offending the other individual, how intelligent you were, within the 2 hours you had joined the Avengers you had already solved a major problem with ease

It had been a month since that day, you were settled in the compound, you had a room to yourself, and you found it pretty comfortable, you’d gone on a few minor missions, nothing serious. You were already enjoying their company and was getting used to the new environment. But you enjoyed Natasha’s company most, from what you know and what you heard, she was supposed to be an extremely dangerous individual, but around you, she was an absolute klutz and also the most adorable person you’ve met.

All the interactions between you too had always ended up in Natasha blushing furiously and you adoring how her cheeks got all rosy and her face would turn the same fiery red of her hair when you casually threw a suggestive comment her way, basically you both being absolutely whipped for each other and refusing to admit it first

You were hacking into a computer system with Tony’s tech when Steve said “there’s no way you can pull that off, I know, I’ve tried” you simply scoffed, your hands flying over the keyboard typing in several coordinates “I’m y/n y/l/n, I can pull off everything” seizing the opportunity to once again fluster the redhead you pointed at her “including your clothes” just like you predicted, her cheeks immediately flushed red and a panicky chuckle fell from her lips

Steve rolled his eyes “see, according to you, I’m a million year old fossil, but still, even I can see that you are completely and irrevocably in love with her” you had successfully hacked into the system and pumped your fists triumphantly, transferring the information into a hard drive “I never said I wasn’t Rogers” you said sending a wink Natasha’s way and ‘accidentally’ brushing her bare arm lightly with yours as you passed by earning yourself a nervous squeak from her

Even in important meetings, Natasha was often caught giving you heart eyes, like this one right now, Fury was staring at her waiting for her to give him a plethora of solutions like she normally would. This time however, she was busy staring at you and were practically making out with you with her eyes. Fury cast his glance around the avengers silently inquiring as to what happened to his best agent. “she’s infatuated with her new girlfriend” tony said

The abrupt voice snapped Natasha out of her thoughts and she sent him her killer glare “I am not” knowing chuckles reverberated around the meeting room, even you let out a soft laugh at her obliviousness. “Did you know that Romanoff let y/n borrow her motorbike?” Clint said in a faux conspiratory voice. The director’s eyebrows shot up “is that so?” one corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk

“So what if it is, its just a bike” Natasha tried to act nonchalant but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Ah look, the adoptive murder daughter has found love” tony said sarcastically “I will cause you pain in ways you can’t even imagine” Natasha gritted out. Taking pity on her, you snapped your fingers “Okay okay, this has been fun, but back to the tesseract?”

After the meeting, and more relentless teasing, resulting in an extremely irritable Natasha, she had pulled you aside into an empty store room “ooh is this our forbidden rendezvous” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. Even in the dark, you could swear that Natasha was blushing like she always did even if you so much as looked at her

“no this is me apologizing on behalf of the team and what they said back there, it was disrespectful-” catching your quirked eyebrow and look of amusement indicating that you were in fact not at all offended by the team’s teasing and she was the only one amongst all of them that didn’t know you had feelings for her too. Deciding to be bold for once, she smirked “it could be our forbidden rendezvous though”

You smiled and closed the distance between you. You could feel her breath hitch when she noticed how close you were, how she could tilt her head slightly and her lips would meet yours, how much she wanted to feel your lips on hers. So that’s exactly what she did, when your lips touched, it was just like how they described it in books. It ignited something resembling a thunderstorm in you and you couldn’t acknowledge anything else except how her lips felt perfect against yours. You reached to run a hand through her crimson tresses, and when breathing became a difficulty she pulled away, ruffled and lips parted she smiled showing all her impossibly white teeth

“Who knew you were such a good kisser”

“Who knew you would ever get bold enough to find out”

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley @zolvaska @jokertgkk @yeeterthekeeper

[struggling-with-time]

The Man That Is Wilbur Soot [Wilbur Soot x reader]

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: Inspired by the Song Honey Honey by ABBA aka I took the line "I'd heard about you before I wanted to know some more"

Warnings: Fluff?

Words: 3.4K

Masterlist: Wilbur’s Masterlist - Event Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: This was made for my ABBA event. Check it out here! (Also requests are still open! Click here!) btw, this was supposed to be like 1k

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You had heard about Wilbur Soot before. Everyone had heard about Wilbur Soot the President of L’Manberg. The guy who stood up to the Tyrant Dream of the SMP. And came out victorious, unlike the others whose life has been lost to the Tyrant, and their names to the passage of time.

You can’t say, he didn’t intrigue you enough, for you to set out on the dangerous journey that is crossing the SMP. Because he did. His country did. The ideals that you’ve heard about did. Everything intrigued you enough to leave your village behind and track into the world.

So that’s what you did, backpack on your shoulders, map in hand. You set into the big world, on the tracks to the dangerous country that the SMP is. You barely get out of the village before you are able to hitch a ride.

It’s a merchant that is headed for one of the villages closer to the border. It’s a bigger village than your own. The name rings a bell, maybe a traveller has mentioned it when passing by. So you hitch the ride, he tells you about his trades. He’s a merchant of fabrics, listing many places you haven’t even heard of. But there is one that catches your attention.

“You’ve been to L’Manberg?”

“Before it became independent yes.”

“Tell me about it!”

And the merchant does, for the entirety of the ride. He talks about the few people that resided there when he passed through the back then settlement. You beg him to tell each detail he can remember. And he happily provides. You take note of every you hear in your notebook. Your travel journal. Your… well diary.

He’s a good man, you note to yourself when he pulls into the bigger villages. The sun on the horizon.

You’re much further than you thought you would be on your first day.

This is going to be a good trip.

---

This is going to be a horrible trip.

You’ve been wandering for days, the closer to the border of the SMP, the fewer carts had come by, and even fewer willing to take a traveller with them.

You sigh as you watch the sun starting to set, and you are forced to make camp once more. It has been days since you last slept in a bed. To be exact 16 days. You had only managed to stay in an inn for the first night, realising your small amount of money wouldn’t get you far if you spent it all on beds.

You are reminded of the people whom you met that first night, a girl who talked about how President Soot had come by the town in his own travels to the SMP, and she had met him. No not just met him. She had spent the night with him.

And you just couldn’t help yourself, you had to quill your curiosity somehow, so you had once again asked for details, and she had provided.

The fire you get going is better than the last one. Not that the last one had ever turned into a fire. It had rained in the morning, and most of the wood you could find yesterday was still wet by the time you wanted to settle down.

But today, you had been lucky, it had been sunny all day, leading to being able to find dry sticks and a couple of pieces of logs. That you could make into a fire.

A clear stary night over your head as you turn in for the night. Hoping to get at least a couple of hours out of the fire to keep you warm. And to keep the mobs away. Knowing you still have a couple of days of wandering left before you will reach the borders of the SMP. You sigh as you jolt down the few interesting pieces of the day in your notebook.

Not that anything of importance actually happened. But maybe out there someone would read your notebook and find the fact that you saw a parrot in a birch forest be found interesting.

---

You have under half a day of walking left when a cart is willing to pick you up. Turning the hours of walking into a mere hour in the cart. You can feel yourself squirm in your seat as the silence falls upon you and the woman who picked you up.

“…So… Why are you heading to the border?”

She lets you sit in silence.

Rude much?

But… You can’t really call her rude, she was nice enough to pick you up and take you to the border. Where she very unceremoniously dropped you off, and headed off east, seemingly following the border never crossing it. She was… weird.

You instead tighten your back, and head over to the guarded tollbooth. A man looking bored out of his mind and close to sleep sits there. Not even having registered the cart that was there moments ago.

How often do people come through here?

The thought crosses your mind. You know it isn’t one of the main border entrances. You know of one that lies further west. But still, a good 2 to 3 days travel away. Besides you’re pretty sure someone told you the toll at the busy entrances is higher than the ones people rarely use.

But now that you are here and can read the price yourself. It seems the person had either lied to you, or the price at the main entrances are a lot higher than you could ever think about paying.

An idea strikes you, maybe… Just maybe… The guard will fall asleep. Just maybe. You linger on the side of the road. Seemingly interested in the plants nearby. You start jotting down stuff in your notebook. Taking note of the size of the leaves, the colour. You mumble the information to yourself.

Your eyes keep glancing over, as his head slumps down further and further.

It barely takes you a few more minutes of stalling before the guard is full-on snoring. You barely catch yourself nearly letting out a sound in victory.

Silent. Right. No noise.

You can do this. You can sneak past him. You can be silent.

You suck in a breath, as you start moving as slowly as you’ve ever done in your life. Hoping to the sky gods the slowness helps you with being silent. And it does, to some extent. But your backpack still rustles around, and the loose stones on the pathway still skirt across the dirt.

But he keeps sleeping, and before you know it, you’ve managed to sneak past him. Sneak into a country. You did it!

You decide your celebration is best celebrated far from here, and you make your way on the now stone path.

---

It takes you a couple of days before you hit your first village. You’re surprised by this. Normally there is a city around half a days’ time from most border crossings. But this is the SMP. The fact that its citizens aren’t exactly allowed to leave. Is more than public knowledge in other countries. They are under the rule of a Tyrant after all.

You figure it’s time to sleep in a real bed, you deserve it.

You head straight into the in, it’s barely past lunch, but there is a plentiful of people in there already. You stumble a bit at the sight, you had expected a couple of patrons, not a room full of people. But nonetheless, you make your way to the bar.

Conversations bustling around you, a waiter running around, and either the innkeeper themselves behind the bar, or just a barkeeper. You aren’t exactly sure. But you wave them down anyway. Maybe she can help you find the innkeeper and ask for a room.

“Well, hello there, you look exhausted.” Your shoulders sink further down at the comment. Did you really look that bad?

“I was wondering if you had a room I could rent?” you ignore the rude comment and stick to politeness.

“I figured.”

“… So um… Do you have a room free?” You try once again.

“Sorry hun, but if you hadn’t noticed we are full right now.” You completely deflate at the answer. In return, she takes pity on you. “But if you ask around over at the stables, someone might let you on as a passenger and take you to the next city. It’s half a day by cart, so you might just catch one if you’re fast.”

You beam up that answer, profusely thanking her, before running back into the street. Before realising you have no clue where the stables are.

It takes you two people, and three wrong turns to find the stables. And nobody is preparing any carts when you get there. Just a guy saddling his own horse.

Ah well, it never hurts to ask.

You approach the guy.

“Hi!”

He looks a bit confused when you stand across from him, on the other side of the horse.

“Um… good evening?”

You smile at him.

“Can I help you?” He speaks slowly.

“Ah yes! Sorry! I’m a bit out of it. I’m trying to get to the next town over.” You happily tell him.

“And you’re telling me this because…” He trails off. Leaving time for you to answer, instead, you leave him hanging. Until he coughs.

“Because…” He repeats.

“Because I was thinking, maybe you were heading that way.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I can pay…” You try.

“Well then, why didn’t you start with that.” He looks you and your baggage up and down twice before clicking his tongue. “We can make this work. Do you know how to hold on?”

You nod, and he settles onto his horse, waiting for you to do the same. You manage to hoist yourself up and onto the horse. It doesn’t even flinch at the added weight. You’re thankful to the sky gods for that.

He rides the two of you out of town and onto the road for the next town.

“What’s someone like you this far out in the country?”

“I’m a traveller.” You tell him.

“To the border? So you could look at it and head home?” He snorts.

“No no, I’m not from the SMP, I’m just travelling through. I’m headed to L’Manberg.” He snorts once more.

“L’Manberg? That bunch of spoiled brats.”

“Spoiled brats?”

He laughs this time.

“Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“You truly aren’t from these parts.” He comments, and let the conversation fade out after that.

You don’t question the man, instead just pays him as the sun starts to set, and you are once again in an unfamiliar village. At this point, you barely remember the route you used to take in your home from your house to the baker.

Okay, that’s a lie, that is a route that is embedded into your mind, that you could sleepwalk it. For the sole reason that the route had you pass the library. Which was a place you spent a lot of time. Especially after finding out about the interesting man of Wilbur Soot.

Some books portrayed him as a traitor of the SMP, others the hero of the folk. But every single depiction had one thing in common. That he was an interesting enough man for people to want to write about him.

And that made you interested in him. He had started a revolution in a country that wasn’t his. You weren’t sure where he was from. None of the books in your village had mentioned that.

You head into the inn, this time, it’s bustling from evening patrons, but nowhere as lively as the one in the previous town. The reception this time has a separate table. Which you welcome happily. This means you don’t have to cross another sea of half-drunken people you don’t know.

However once again, the inn is full.

What’s going on here?

This one is even larger than the other one and seemingly has fewer patrons. But you take the rejection with a head held high. Thank them for their time, as you head into the now dark streets.

You sit now on a couple of steps, you’re tired, exhausted, and just want to sleep in a bed.

The door opens.

You nearly leave your skin in shock. You had expected the owner to be asleep. Instead, an elderly lady stands there.

“Would you look at that? It seems I have a guest.” She speaks.

“No no, I’m just passing through, I’m sorry I just needed to rest for a moment. I’m sorry. I’ll be on my way!” You ramble on as you scramble from the stone step.

“Nonsense.” She tsks at you. “Come in you poor child.”

She steps back into the house, leaving the door open.

“You coming? Close the door after you, it gets so terrible cold at night.”

You find yourself following her. Closing the door after yourself. You carefully put down your backpack as she ushers you into a seat in the kitchen. Setting a plate of hot steaming soup in front of you. You nearly drool at the sight. You can’t remember the last time you had warm food. Especially not warm homemade food.

You are quick to dig in, and she laughs warmly at you. You feel comfortable here.

“Why were you out in the street this late? That’s no safe place to be.”

You stop the spoon still in your mouth. She laughs once again, but the kind air around her never leaves. You swallow and pull out the spoon.

“I’m making my way to L’Manberg.” You tell her.

“Ah, L’Manberg. I’ve heard about that place. President Soot right?”

“Yes, yes.” You nod at her. “Wilbur Soot.”

“Ah, the Antarctic prince.”

You stop once again.

“The what?”

“The Antarctic Prince?”

You hum.

“Ah my dear, President Soot is the second born of King Philza from the Antarctic Empire.”

You stare at her; this was new information. She laughs once more. You are quick to grab your notebook and write down the new information. How had something this important not been mentioned before? This explains so much to you. And it eagers you even more to continue the trip.

The man of Wilbur Soot only seems to keep getting more and more interesting as each day passes.

The kind lady offers you a bed and a bath.

You are more than happy to receive both. Although you would never admit that to anyone that you could barely recognise yourself in the mirror. And for the second realisation that night. You understood why the innkeepers didn’t want you around.

You’ve never slept as good as you did that night during your travels.

---

You stretch as you can feel the scorching heat of the sun above you. It has been three weeks since you left the kind lady. She had asked for her son to help you move deeper into the country, so you were closer to the border you are desperately trying to reach.

You had travelled with her son for about a week, when he had to start heading more west than south, you had thanked him as much as his mother. But he had brushed you off that having a travelling partner was nice, and that you if came back through he would love to hear stories of the famous L’Manberg and its citizens.

The map you had brought seems to not be well mapped in the SMP. It wasn’t something you were unprepared for, but it did surprise you how little it truly resembled the mapping of the roads.

But a map is a map, and a destination is a destination. So you head onwards.

And onwards…

And onwards…

And onwards…

Sometimes meeting other travellers now that you are deeper in the countries. The nights where you aren’t alone passes faster than the ones where you are.

You hear stories of L’Manberg you have never heard before, and retellings of events but in other perspectives.

It seems a lot of people have a lot of opinions on the small country. But you understand, you too would have a lot of opinions if a city suddenly started wanting independence from its country.

It takes you weeks before you start coming across people who have been near L’Manberg regularly. It gives you a sign of hope. You’re getting closer, your journey is reaching its destination.

---

It’s storming the day you spot the country on the horizon. It’s still storming by the time you reach the country. The SMP toll guard is seemingly nowhere nearby and you pass the border with ease this time. Luckily for you. Or else you would have to explain why a traveller like you didn’t have travel papers.

You had expected to be met with one of the cities of the small country immediately. But it seems they are further from the border. And by further, it takes you an hour at foot-travel to meet the capital of the small country.

The streets are bustling.

That’s when it hits you.

You’ve made it.

You’ve actually made it.

You might look mad, but you let out a laugh right then and there. A laugh of relief. A laugh of victory. A laugh of … being alive.

“Having fun there?”

You turn around, to be met with the eyes of a stranger. A tall brown-haired stranger, nonetheless.

“Yeah, I just… Yeah.” You trail off. You eye him up and down, he’s cute. You put your hand out to present yourself, your name, the country you came from, and the name of the village you used to live in.

“Wilbur Soot, President of L’Manberg.” He returns with a smile. You barely listen to his words. Too captured by his smile. When…

Oh.

Oh, sky gods.

This is the man.

This beautiful human being of a man is the man.

“You alright there?” He asks as he watches you falter for a moment.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine. More than fine actually.” You tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You smile at him, and he smiles back.

“So, what are you doing here? You are an awful long way from home.”

He starts walking, and you fall in step with him.

“I’m here to see the country. I’ve heard a lot about it.” Leaving out the unsaid, I’ve heard a lot about you. He didn’t need to know yet, just how intriguing you found him.

You follow him down the street as he points a couple of things out, a couple of buildings, a couple of people. You listen and stop to note something down a couple of times, and he waits, patiently. Until he leads you to the local inn.

He holds the door open.

“A drink?”

“Yes please.”

He finds the two of you a booth, and you easily fall into conversation.

He asks you about your hometown, you about his.

He asks about your journey, you ask about the revolution.

You continue this game of ping pong. And the further down your drinks you get, the more personal the conversation gets. The less you note down. Yet, the man himself never falters from being the most interesting thing you’ve ever encountered.

And the night moves along, your conversation following.

You don’t really know when his hand landed on your thigh. Or when your lips met his. But suddenly you’re stumbling into a room together.

His touch setting you on fire, and your touch egging him on.

Your head is spinning as your back hits the bed.

Your notebook is lying tucked away safely in your backpack, staying there all the way into midday when you finally wake up. Disorientated, confused, and hungover.

Sitting there in that bed, you can’t help but remember the words of the girl you met the first night. And you can’t help but agree with her. Wilbur Soot surely is a love machine.

You hear rustling beside you, and you turn your head.

He’s awake.

He’s watching.

He’s watching you.

You lazily smile at him.

And at that moment, there is nowhere else you would rather be.

You had heard about him before, and you wanted to know some more.

People later down the line found your meeting story anywhere from boring to fate. But one thing was sure, you entered L’Manberg with one goal in mind. And never left again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[dragonmuse]

Hullo. I just wanted to say, I think the Leda House series is the most joy I’ve got out of fan fiction, ever. I’ve laughed and cried with it. Each character feels so full and real, like you could slip in beside them. I’m wondering (a bit desperately) how you imagine Izzy reacted to Lucius telling him he loved him?

(thank you so much! Here's Izzy's reaction, hope you like it!)

“I love you, Israel Hands. You’re the best goblin asshole boyfriend and I’m proud of you.”

Once, Izzy had been punched so hard in the gut that he hadn’t been able to properly suck in a breath for half an hour. This was worse.  He made some kind of noise. 

“I’m going to hang up," Lucius informed him, "possibly throw up and then come over when I’m human again. K?”

He was going to come over? After that? He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. Maybe Izzy was going to throw up. That felt like a possibility. 

Before Lucius called, he had been about to go grocery shopping. He had a load of laundry in the wash. The world wasn’t supposed to rock under your feet when you’d just measured out detergent and contemplated whether you should buy turkey sausage instead of pork this week. 

Out of sheer muscle memory, his shoes went on. He pulled the utilitarian reusable shopping bags out from under his sink and mechanically headed out. It was a three block walk that he’d made a hundred times. 

He accidentally walked by the store and had to circle back, too dazed to even curse his own absentmindedness.  By sheer routine, he collected the first few items on his list and then realized he’d been standing in front of the bananas for who knows how long. 

“Get it together,” he muttered to himself. 

It was fine. They were just words. Lucius talked a lot. He’d said a lot of things to Izzy. Most of them unrepeatable in mixed company.  It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d heard it or anything. His mother had definitely said it, even if her actions had never matched. Jonas, his older brother, wasn’t really the type, but he’d dished it out once or twice before the end.  

Faith had. He’d even been pretty sure she meant it.  That had all been a very long time ago. He’d been more lovable then. Probably. Frankly, he was pretty sure he’d been a shitty annoying teenager. 

But Lucius loved this version of him. Whatever bitter remnants he’d scraped off the floor and stuffed into a person suit.  

He managed somehow to finish his shopping and make it back home, but he recalled nothing of the walk. Food went away, ready for tomorrow’s prep. 

Lucius was coming at some point today. He should probably make something. There were rules to cooking. Steps were important. Take steps.  Do... 

No. No. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He stepped away from the kitchen. The godforsaken blanket was there for a reason and if he wanted to duck under it for a few minutes and just process that was okay.  

It felt ridiculous, but Izzy was trying to learn to be okay with ridiculous things. Lucius was an entirely ridiculous thing and the feeling that Izzy had for him, while not ready to be named, was cataclysmically enormous. 

“You know,” Lucius said. Izzy had heard him arrive and decided to stay where he was. He listened to him cross the floor and only opened his eyes when there was a tug on the blanket. “When I said I’d eat an asshole burrito that one time at a frat party, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” 

“What did you have in mind?” Izzy barked a laugh. 

And it was...god, it was good. Good the way Lucius told him his asinine thoughts and inveigled himself under the blanket. Good how he cupped Izzy’s face cupped and kissed him like he might be worth treating with some gentleness. Good to be held and kissed, and praised and...loved. 

“You okay?” There was a tease in Lucius' voice like he could read his mind. It always felt like he could somehow. 

“No,” Izzy said dryly. “I was supposed to get some things done around here today. You threw me off my schedule.” 

“Too bad,” Lucius laughed in his face, but held him tight.  

Hugs were still not his forte, but Izzy thought he could handle this one just fine. 

[moonlit-han]

nxt 2 u: mornings with stray kids ↠ all members

genre: imagine/reaction, fluff, domestic bliss, established relationship au word count: 3k warnings: highly suggestive, 18+ themes, swearing request: yes but also no? a/n: femme-leaning reader~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

bang chan

you roll over at the sound of chan mumbling in his sleep

he kinda wakes up

just a little blearily

and gives you this huge smile (♡‿♡)

bc you're actually there, the love of his life

and he still can't believe he's lucky enough to wake up beside you every day

so you snuggle closer and kiss his nose

then his eyelids

and finally his mouth so gently

channie just curls more tightly to you and pulls you to his chest

his hair is all tousled in the cutest way

like one part of it is sticking up like a lil cat ear (or wolf ear, since it's chan)

and you kinda just melt when you notice it

you can’t resist combing your fingers through his hair

when he finally wakes up

chan peppers your face with kisses, 

carefully sliding on top of you

to then slowly, so slowly kiss you

his hands travel all over you, slipping under the old t-shirt of his you’re wearing

and soon you’re wriggling under him, wanting more (*/ω＼)

so chan works what seems like magic with his hands and/or mouth

until your toes are curl and you feel like you’re going to burst

but chan just grins and rolls off the bed

leaving you gasping and mildly grumpy ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

but you still get up to make blueberry pancakes

bc it’s saturday and that means blueberry pancakes  ( ｀^´ )ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

so you’re standing at the counter, combining the ingredients and waiting for the griddle to heat up

chan comes in after taking a shower

and is so overcome with tenderness at how sweet you look

just standing there in the kitchen,

still in his t-shirt and your underpants

so he wraps his arms around you from behind

and presses himself against you, teasing again a little

he nuzzles your neck, just begging for kisses

so soon, the stove is turned off and breakfast almost forgotten

as you stumble, giggling, back into the bedroom to cuddle and kiss more

and when you’re just about falling asleep

bc who needs to be awake on a saturday morning?! ┐(︶▽︶)┌

chan looks just as adorable and soft as he did earlier in the day

and you let him curl into your arms again

as you hold him and kiss the top of his head

adfghakldfhg he's just the sweetest floofkins (*´▽`*)

lee minho

i know i’ve compared minho to a cat before

but hear me out

minho in the mornings is mildly hilarious

bc even if he’s completely curled into a ball when he falls asleep

or spooning you sweetly

or whatever other fascinating position you fall asleep in together

he ends up stretched out

with at least one arm and one leg thrown over you

snoring softly

just. like. a. cat.

and you often find yourself unable to move

bc minho’s surprisingly heavy when he’s asleep

complete deadweight (╥ᆺ╥；)

but as soon as you brush the little stray hairs from his forehead

and kiss his shoulder

he stirs and groans a little, just settling deeper into the mattress

….which means more snugly onto you

heCk (￢_￢;)

so you wriggle around a little more

and finally manage to get your leg free from underneath of minho’s

as usual, you climb on top of minho and sit squarely on top of him

………

and start tickling him (≧◡≦)

THAT definitely wakes minho up

his lips poke out a little in a pout, all of their own accord

but he can’t really do anything about the fact that you’re tickling him

bc you’re sitting right on his hips, pinning him to the bed

the ~intimacy~ of the position, despite the fact that you’re tickling him, is not lost on either of you

and, being the little shit that he is, minho bucks his hips up once or twice

you just give him a mock glare and say “bad kitty”

before tickling him with renewed enthusiasm

(not to mention giving him little kisses on the neck and teasing ones on the ear)

once his ribs start to hurt from laughing,

minho just pulls you into a deep kiss

and you both relax

you love how sweet he is in the morning

nothing is hurried nor desperate

bc all minho wants to do is softly show you how much he loves you

you share little, soft touches that nonetheless feel like the most important things in the world

seo changbin

changbin’s arms around you is the best thing in the world

you’re barely awake and everything is blissful softness

if your feelings and the atmosphere could be described as a color,

it would be peach~

golden and warm, with just a hint of sweetness ;)

you snuggle into changbin’s chest, nestling your hips more closely with his

and you get a little kiss on the head

changbin is calm and cuddly in the mornings

and all he wants to do is hold you

sometimes you’ll end up with him closer than skin-to-skin

but it’s honestly more for comfort than anything else

how can he resist yet another way to be closer to you and cozy?

after awhile, you turn over slightly and kiss the underside of his chin

he giggle softly

……he’s a bit like totoro:

comfy

definitely a little magical

((yes, i’m still on my “changbin is a shapeshifting crow” agenda))

and just A Good BeanTM

(♡‿♡) (♡‿♡) (♡‿♡)

you scoot up onto the pillow a bit so you’re face-to-face

changbin just murmurs “hey baby” and gives you a lil kiss on the lips

his lips are so soft you feel like you’re going to melt

he makes sure to pull the blankets back over your shoulders so you aren’t cold

and he rubs your back in slow circles

tension you didn’t even know you were holding releases under his touch

and changbin’s hand drifts to your hip to hold you to him

you tangle your legs together

and he somehow pulls you closer

you’re really not sure how he manages it

but changbin can hold you and cuddle you so closely that you feel like you’re going to merge into one person

there’s nothing sexy about it or anything

it’s just that the warm, safe feeling you get is so amazing

neither of you are anywhere near fully awake

and drift in and out of sleep, sometimes shifting to a more comfortable position

when you finally wake, changbin is still sleeping soundly

you take the opportunity to stare at him

his hair is mussed (a bit wildly)

and he has the first little bits of stubble coming down from his sideburns

a little smile adorns his mouth, as if he’s dreaming about something lovely

((you. he’s dreaming about you :3 ))

you slip your arm up to stroke changbin’s face

your thumb passes over the rounded plane of his cheekbone

and, even in sleep, he leans into your touch

after a few more moments, you lightly kiss him awake

hwang hyunjin

you’d expect hyunjin to be a complete mess in the mornings

but he’s not

he’s actually organized

oh and since his hair can get aaaaaall over the place

he always makes sure to braid it out of the way at night

so in the mornings, little wisps of hair stick out from their appointed places

one of your morning habits is to delicately tuck those wisps of hair back into place

on the weekends, hyunjin is

so! excited!! to!!! cuddle!!!! you!!!!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

and loves kinda pouncing on you as soon as your eyes open

kisses you all over

and rolls the two of you around on the bed

and he’s just holding your hips the entire time, rubbing small circles into them

as he kisses you so damn sweetly

alkdfhgskdjfh

and if you playfully nip at his bottom lip?

he’ll just do it right back

your rolling around has turned into more too many times for you to count

and honestly, it’s kinda the best

so sweet and slow

like you’re the most precious jewel in the world

he  t a k e s  h i s  s w e e t  t i m e (￣～￣ )

and sometimes all you can do is hold on to the sheets for dear life

unless you’re supposed to meet your parents at 11 a.m.

in which case, you’d better be ready

gotta go fast, as they say~ (⊙‿⊙✿)  

but even then, mornings with hyunjin are still sweeter than caramel

his normally plump lips are even more so when he’s just woken up

and the way he squints his eyes against the sun?

that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

sometimes he’s just calm in the mornings

and you lay your head on his chest

and listen to his heartbeat

as hyunjin strokes your hair and gives you a little neck massage

it’s so peaceful and you wouldn’t trade snuggling with hyunjin for the world

han jisung

does not want to get out of bed

nope

no fucking thank you ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

there really should be a sign on his door or bed like

WARNING: Do Not Try to Remove Squirrel from Natural Habitat!!!!!

secondary warning: squirrel may bite if forcibly removed from natural habitat

he will cling to you better than an octopus

alkjdhgadlkfjghadfkgjl

jisung nuzzles into your neck like there’s no tomorrow

and the loose strands of hair falling around his face tickle your skin a little

instead of kissing your neck over and over,

jisung just kinda pouts and keeps his lips lightly against your skin

it’s really sweet hhhhhh (o´▽`o)

if he’s ~ in the mood ~ be prepared for WhiningTM

and for your pajamas to disappear faster than chan’s ears turn red when he’s embarrassed

is it gonna be fast? slow? who knows! (・_・ )

let the fates decide and just go with it

bc either way, you’re going to need to change the sheets and take a shower

you may also find yourself turned into a burrito one morning

bc jisung loves all the blankets

and thinks you’re cute as hell all rolled up in them

…..like a burrito ｡･ﾟ(ﾟ⊃ω⊂ﾟ)ﾟ･｡

and he will immediately lay down on top of you, the burrito, and begin to munch

and by munch i mean kiss you so thoroughly you’ll barely remember your name

he only gets like that if he’s been awake for at least an hour

hhhhhhhh

so when he first opens his eyes, rubbing his face a little and yawning

his first inclination is to make sure you’re still there

and then he just snuggles closer, kinda tucking his head under your chin or on your shoulder

as you also wake up, you make sure to kiss his forehead and tell him you love him

it’s a little ritual almost~

you’d both miss it if you didn’t do that

and you just shift a bit so you can hold jisung even tighter,

threading your fingers through his hair

and kissing the tips of his ears, as if they have little points

you lay there together, just enjoying the warmth of not one, not two, not three, but four comfy blankets and each other

until jisung’s a bit more awake

his hair is so messy when he finally sits up

and his lips are a little dry and swollen from sleep

when he finally speaks, his voice is super husky and deeper than usual

and, frankly, you think it’s the hottest thing ever

when you’re together, he usually doesn’t wear a shirt to sleep, either

so in the morning you’re just blessed with the sight of a shirtless jisung

whose voice is at least half an octave lower and slightly gravelly

it’s just;;;

alkfhgalkdjfhgldkjfsjfhks

invariably, you end up pulling him right back down next to you and booping his nose

then kissing him

a lot

and, sometimes, you don’t get out of bed until noon

because why would you when it’s safe inside the blankets? (⌒▽⌒)♡

lee felix

wraps arms and legs (anything else he can manage but idk what) around you

bc damn it you’re there with him and you’re gonna be close!!!!

the cuddliest in the morning

but then again….will gladly wriggle down to the foot of the bed

and make you a scream

felix: softly, y/n!! don’t wake the neighbors!

y/n: how am i… supposed to- Fuck! stay quiet when you- damn it, ’lix… keep doing that!!?

*giggles from felix* (≧◡≦)

but most importantly

he literally just wants to hold you

and enjoys making you laugh by rumbling his voice in his chest

after all, it’s considerably easier to do first thing in the morning

and is quite proud of the fact that his voice is deeper in the mornings

yawns kinda loudly????

but does that slow eye and nose scrunch he does

to clear the sleep from his eyes a little

it’s the cutest thing ever

also learned the “make my significant other into a burrito” trick from jisung (-_-;)

so now you’re a burrito practically every single morning

there’s actually something comforting about being swaddled

and also like jisung

(((dear god they must share notes akhfskdhj)))

he flops down on top of you to cuddle the living daylights out of you

felix will give you all the gentle kisses in the world

definitely sings that frank sinatra song “fly me to the moon” to wake you up

before kissing each of your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and all the way up your arm before finally

finally

reaching your lips

and he just murmurs sweet nothings to you

as he kisses you every way and everywhere he knows how

felix likes to lay beside with you, hands laced together

and talk about what you’ll do together that day

bc there’s so much he wants to do with you (*¯ ³¯*)♡

and show you and cook for you

and he’s just so full of love

that he ends up bounding out of bed

and pulling you with him, even if you’re both still half-asleep

just so you can start your day together

although, you usually have to stop him from running out the door still in his pajamas

with the cutest bedhead ever

a small part of you wants to see what would happen if he went out like that

but then again…

you also want to be the only one who sees felix in such an utterly free state of being

kim seungmin

seungmin is extremely soft in the mornings

he really likes to just hold you to his chest with his cheek pressed against the top of your head

kisses your temple from time to time

and just holds you on top of him, hand pressed to the small of your back

he likes to tell you about the previous day when you’re just laying there together

and sometimes doesn’t mind if you fall back asleep while he’s talking

he actually finds it rather cute

seungmin likes to spoil you in the mornings

whatever that means to you

either food

(he’ll make you an amazing breakfast

like absolutely everything you could ever want

and probably more)

or ~ love ~

(…maybe, if you make a good case for it

does not take these things lightly (￣ヘ￣) )

or giving you a massage

whatever

you do like massages tho

and seungmin’s particularly good at them

he makes sure to get lotion or body oil

and that his hands are warm

bc no one likes a massage from someone with cold hands

then just methodically massages your back

he secretly likes the little noises you make when the tension releases from your muscles (✿´ ꒳ ` )

sometimes massages turn into making love

but usually not~

mornings are for slow relaxation

no raising of heartbeats or anything else

seungmin also likes to plan out days while still cuddling in bed

and grudgingly allows you to tease him

about his bedhead

or his bleary-eyed looks at you before he’s fully awake ╥﹏╥

or how he just wouldn’t move no matter what you did during the night

it was really quite amazing

..................

seungmin tends to mumble a lot in the mornings

it’s one of the few times he’ll snuggle into you

instead of holding you

he’ll just mumble incoherently

and you’ll be just falling asleep again

when he starts talking perfectly clearly about how much he loves you

you listen, trying to memorize exactly what he says

bc there’s absolutely nothing to distract him or filter the words

and he’s just…. talking

seungmin’s voice first thing in the morning is, of course, a bit lower from sleep

and you find it unbearably attractive

especially when he’s telling you he loves you (*/ω＼)｡ｏ♡

yang jeongin

kinda just slips his arm around your shoulder

kisses the top of your head

and murmurs “good morning sweetie”

before getting up quickly to brush his teeth

bc dear gods he just wants to feel clean;;;;

but!!

once he’s back, it’s time for sooooo many cuddles ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

you hadn’t necessarily fully enjoyed the experience of breakfast in bed

until you met jeongin

then, breakfast in bed on the weekends became normal!

and sometimes you’d even watch a show together

and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle

when he started working out more, you were really excited

bc it meant more squish for you to cuddle on

ajdfgsdkjfhgaklj

he’s very playful in the mornings

and, like with minho, there ends up being lots of tickling

although, with jeongin, he’s doing the tickling

he’s in love with your giggle(*♡∀♡)(*♡∀♡)

and takes every opportunity to make you laugh just so he can hear it

jeongin is the poutiest in the mornings

like if you thought jisung can pout?

then…

well, no. jisung still wins the pouting contest

but jeongin comes in a close second!!!

but not even pouting to get something or get his way

just cutely pouting for the sake of looking cute (◕‿◕✿)

alkdhgsdfkjghal

and he just squishes you so tightly to his chest

you sometimes have to remind him that

in a perfect world

you’d like to breathe

one morning when you were being squeezed

so affectionately you didn’t even know what to do

you decided to kiss his collarbones

and it was all over from there

jeongin  m e l t s  if you kiss his collarbones

and if you kiss along them,

everything in his world is even better

but then if you decide to get inventive

and maybe take a lil soft nibble or lick?

it’s all over (⌒_⌒;)

he just gets so overwhelmed with love

and tenderness hhhhh

and sighs like a dramatic Victorian lady

the moment you start

therefore:

you are so not leaving that bed for at least another two hours

jeongin likes to make sure you’re nice and comfy

at all times

when in bed bc, just like his friends have taught him:

he will treat you like an angel.｡ｏ♡