#every day I thank the universe that I snapped out of being pro-life

[silvermoon424]

I just watched John Oliver's video on abortion rights and it was nice to see that my favorite game of "let's see how long it takes for 'pro-life' people to admit they hate women" is still relevant.

It only took a couple of comments for anti-choicers to devolve into "women need to keep their legs shut." Absolutely no blame directed towards men who impregnate women because as we all know pregnancy only requires one person. Also, it was awesome seeing people defend the fact that anti-choicers don't support social welfare policies because "why should we have to pay for the consequences of you opening your legs?"

[ethereance]

мιяяσя мιяяσя

“So in this universe—”

“Reality.”

“—Uh. In this reality. Are you and me—?”

“Yes.”

He tries not to squeak. It doesn’t work. “So this means we—?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” she says.

(In which Lance and Allura get fast tracked to their happy ending whilst their alternate selves get thrown back into some robot lion action. Because sure, why not, this might as well happen.)

***

You’ll have to excuse Lance for thinking this is a dream at first, the haze of sleep still a thick fog in his brain, leaving little room for cognitive thought. But here he is, snuggled up under the covers of what’s easily be the cosiest bed he’s ever slept on, face to sleeping face with a certain silver haired beauty he could only ever dream of being this close to, and well, you can understand the confusion. This is Allura he’s talking about here. A princess Lance would compare to Aphrodite had he not gone through a Percy Jackson phase at age twelve and learned all about the consequences of a statement like that. Gods get up to some pretty petty stuff. 

So Lance silently thanks his brain for not only giving him the opportunity to have a waking up in space-Vegas dream about Allura, but making it lucid to boot, and savours the moment, silently begging real life Allura not to choose today of all days to hold an early morning drill, for, as alluring of an alarm clock she is, Lance needs to catch his zzzs somehow. You don’t think he wakes up every morning looking as great as he does without some form of rest, do you? It’s called beauty sleep for a reason, and there’s plenty of beauty in this particular sleep.

There’s something so peaceful about dream Allura’s sleeping face, at ease in a way Lance has only seen once, back when she was suspended in time by that cryopod. She’s a busy woman, always putting every ounce of her time into winning them this war. As much as Lance would love for her to kick back and relax, even just for a bit with them, she simply doesn’t. Maybe, once the universe throws them a parade for karate kicking Zarkon out of business, she’ll finally get the chance. 

Man, even her sleep tousled hair looks ethereal. Lance doesn’t know how Allura does it. He’ll have to ask her what shampoo she uses. L’Oréal for aliens or something. It has to be something other than the ten thousand year old soap they have all been given. Princess privileges, is he right?

Though, if he pays attention, there’s something about her face, subtle as it is, which appears older somewhat? It’s in the cheekbones, the skin. Enough to suggest some sort of passage of time within this dream world, though as to how old she’s meant to be, Lance can’t say.

Allura’s eye twitches, and Lance watches as she stirs awake, looking drowsily around. As her eyes land on him, they widen, snapping into focus. 

“Morning, beautiful,” he says as she sits up, pulling out his flirtiest trump card. Hunk once said his smouldering look makes him look a mix of goofy and constipated, and that it really doesn’t do him any favours—thanks Hunk—but he’s sure dream Allura will appreciate it. 

She stares at him blankly. Guess this dream gets points for its realism. 

“Lance,” Allura says slowly, critically, “Is that you?”

“Well yeah. Expecting anyone else?”

“I wasn’t expecting—do you remember anything that happened?”

Lance feels his face flush. Calm down on the dream lore. “Uh, between you and me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, seemingly appalled at the thought. Ow. “We were with the Prismariums. Do you have any recollection of their festivities? Our fight against the robeast?”

“The prismari…” Lance trails off, blinking away the last of the sleepy haze. He scrambles backwards, almost tumbling off the bed as he does so. “Holy quiznack. This isn’t a dream.”

“No, more like a nightmare,” she says, and again. Ow. 

***

𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎

You know how it goes. Kick robeast ass, save a planet, stay around for the victory celebration. Lance is kinda sorta a pro at this now. Sure, he hasn’t been doing this gig long, the whole Voltron defender of the universe thing, but he’s starting to get a good idea of what to expect. And apparently what to expect are a lot of super thankful, super cool looking aliens. 

All in a day’s work. Or quintant? Lance thinks that’s the word Allura and Coran have been using. Anyway, it’s just what they do. No need to thank them. 

Though, yeah, all that thanks is very much appreciated. 

(It’s still super weird. Because him? They really have all this unwavering faith in Lance, in all of them, to end a war that’s been going on for far longer than his family tree has been alive?

How could—)

The prismariums are a species that can best be described as what would happen if you squeezed toothpaste into a human-ish shaped mould. That clear stuff with all the microplastics in. Their skin shimmers at the touch, pulsing in colours specific to the individual, blues and greens, and yellows, and reds. There’s this particularly beautiful one at the front of the group with eyes vaguely reminiscent of Allura’s, and pink scales lining her neck and upper arms. Her hair descends just past her shoulders, and has an overall effect that reminds Lance of that one fibre optic lamp he had as a kid, always enthralled by its colours. Even her eyelashes pulse with colour.

She introduces herself as Princess Evuth, the third daughter of Queen Naex, and practically begs them all to follow her to the castle to speak with her mother so she can coordinate the proper ceremony required for saving her people.

“We’re just doing our job as paladins,” says Shiro, who much to Lance’s disappointment seems to have no intention of accepting any reward. “The safety of this quadrant will be reward enough.”

“But it is customary!” Princess Evuth protests, something in her tone triggering immediate action from Allura.

“Shiro,” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lance does his best to suppress the slight pang of jealousy at their closeness. “I think it’s best we agree. We wouldn’t want to offend her people’s customs.” Lance recalls their time with the Arusians, all too ready to throw themselves into a sacrificial pyre. Perhaps Allura is currently doing the same. “And I would very much like to speak to the queen about joining the coalition.”

“Excellent,” says Princess Evuth, beaming with joy. “Please allow me to escort you to the castle.”

Lance hadn’t really had time to admire the sights earlier on, back in his lion, a little preoccupied at the time, but looking at this planet now, it’s easily a beautiful one, flush with greens, fields and hills as far as the eye can see, which it does pretty well, twenty twenty vision and all, rip Pidge (“What do you mean you don’t actually need glasses?”) Between triangular shaped crystal outcrops—their numerous windows suggesting that these are their homes rather than ornamental scenery—copious amounts of trees spring from the ground, leaves oddly translucent, a running theme on this planet. 

And if you think the prismariums are colourful, they have nothing on their castle, a giant glittering set of prisms protruding from the ground, reflecting beams of rainbow light every which way. They truly live up to their prismarium name, so it seems. 

“Ahh, it may be different, but it’s just as colourful as I remember,” says Coran, an achingly nostalgic glint to his eye, “I’ve only been the once. My old band, you see, we wanted to branch out to other music genres, find a wider audience outside of Altea. Those were the days. The Prismariums were famous for their Yarflemfloop, this long instrument that wobbles around like this, see?” He makes this wobbling motion with his whole body, his limbs suddenly jellyified. “Though I never could quite get any of the notes right. It does make for a nice hat. Though I wouldn’t recommend keeping it on unless you want it stuck there. Haha!”

Princess Evuth’s eyes widen, horrified. “Who in the stars would ever put a Yarflemfloop on their head?”

“Oh, you know.” Coran’s smile turns sheepish. “Just a fellow I once knew. Had one too many a pint of nunvil. Nothing worth dwelling on now, it’s all in the past.”

Allura rolls her eyes, shaking her head to herself. And yet, it’s an action that’s so incredibly fond. 

They make their way into the castle with significantly less anecdotes from Coran this time, giving Princess Evuth the opportunity to throw in some tourist trivia as they shuffle onto this large, circular platform to take them upwards into the castle. Stuff about the glamorous views in the Winter months—an approximately nine month long period in their twenty four month long year—and the planet’s musical history, such as how they managed to make their rocks ‘sing’ in a way, achieving notes through contact. 

The castle appears to have a hollowed out centre, though, which becomes obvious when the queen meets them in her throne room, large and spacious with a glass floor that has even Lance—a pilot with no history of having a fear of heights—feeling slightly queasy upon realising how far up they are. He has no idea how Hunk lives like this. 

“Esteemed paladins, Princess Allura, Advisor Coran,” begins the queen, red and purple where her daughter is pink. She rises from a triangular shaped chair to greet them. “I cannot thank you enough for protecting my planet’s safety, and by extension, the safety of my beloved daughters of whom are my greatest treasure of all. Please allow me to extend you my hospitality, and request that you attend our victory celebration later this evening.” She pauses. “I hope my invitation won’t delay you on your mission to recover peace across the universe.”

“We would be honoured to attend,” says Allura, and before they know it, they’re getting a tour of the castle as the chefs prepare. 

The rest of the castle lacks the transparent flooring that distinguishes the throne room, going for all of the colours instead of none. They get led down passageways completely orange, or blue, or whatever shirmple is (“I see. It appears your eyes cannot pick up the varied range of colours as we can.”) to just as vibrant rooms, some of the highlights being the music room (none of the instruments in there remotely resembling anything you’d find on Earth, though Lance does get to find out what a Yarflemfloop is as well as firsthand experience that Coran cannot play it), the golf course (which none of the prismariums refer to as golf), and the swimming pool (Lance does not know what that liquid is but it is not water. Looks rather rejuvenating though. He’d be open to trying it out). Lance supposes that, on whatever planet you’re on, rich people will be rich people.

“The legend goes that our people were cut out of the very rocks that form our land,” Princess Evuth says as they pass through an art gallery showcasing the works of various artists hanging from the walls. One in particular is of a prismarium emerging from a glittering crystal, all geometric shapes and angular lines. “Whilst I’m not sure that it is true, we have always had a deep connection with our land. Not quite in the way the Balmerans do, but enough to rely on the rocks for navigation. They tell stories in a way, echoes of history, and we listen. We are never lost among our stone.”

“Well, princess, if you were a rock, you’d surely be a diamond,” Lance says, adding in a wink for good measure. He ignores the groans, especially Keith’s. That guy wishes he had lines as good as his. 

Princess Evuth blinks. Then giggles. “I have no idea what that is.”

“Oh.”

“But I believe it was a compliment?” the princess adds hopefully.

Lance clears his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

“Then I consider you all diamonds too,” she says with such open earnesty as she leads them down the next hallway.   

“Smooth going there, Lance,” says Pidge, nudging him in the arm. Hunk rolls his eyes beside them.

“Oh shut up.”

***

The last stop in their tour can be summarised as the funhouse mirror room. Just. So many mirrors. Hunk and Pidge are already posing in front of one that makes Pidge look like Goliath rather than three apples tall in comparison to Hunk who looks like he has been shrunk in the wash. 

“Not bad,” says Pidge, raising her hand above her head to compare heights. “You know, I used to love these as a kid.”

“Uh, Pidge, you’re still a kid,” Hunk observes, “We’re still kids. Technically. I mean, my birthday’s coming up… uh… sometime soon. I think. Space time throws my head through a loop. But until then…”

“Well, this was years ago. Back when Mum and Matt would…” Pidge trails off, a nostalgia exchanged for the grim reality of the present. She deflates. 

Hunk squeezes her shoulder, a gentle encouragement. “Let’s look in the other mirrors.”

“Hey, Hunk,” says Lance, waving the pair over. He points at a mirror next to him, one that seems to have an in-built Instagram filter, making his skin glitter as if dusted in stars. “Do you think it captured my good side?”

“You have no good side,” comes a voice that is distinctly not Hunk. Thanks Keith.

“Yeah? Well, who was talking to you, huh?” Lance counters, glaring daggers far sharper than Keith’s ever touched. “‘You have no good side’, puh-lease. I’ll have you know that that was a trick question! Every side is my good side.”

“… Uhuh,” is all Keith says. Lance will take this as a win. 

“Oh man, that is a cool mirror. My skin’s all spacey,” says Hunk, now standing next to him. After waving at himself a few times, his attention is distracted by another mirror nearby. “Oh hey! Look at this one. Everything’s all red. Keith, you should check this one out. That colour’s, like, your thing, right?”

“Yeah, Keith, you should check it out,” says Pidge, a rising smirk that suggests some sort of jab is coming. Hah! Take that Keith. “You wouldn’t want to come between Lance and his reflection after all. Just leave them to it.”

“Hey!” protests Lance, feeling the sting of betrayal, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Allura sighs, shaking her head. “Paladins, please. We’re in company.”

“It’s alright, Princess, no one’s destroyed anything. Yet,” says Shiro, giving off the aura of an amused parent watching his kids scramble around on the play equipment. And he calls himself too young to be ‘space Dad.’

“Agreed,” says Princess Evuth, “You should see me with my siblings.” 

“Uh, Princess. I think your mirror is broken,” says Keith, peering at his complete lack of a reflection in the largest mirror here, with a grand, ornate swirling frame, encrusted with many a priceless jewel. True to his word, its surface remains distorted, a haze of colour and nothing much else. Poor excuse for a mirror if you ask him. Can’t even mirror right.

Or—

“Or maybe you’re just a vampire,” suggests Lance, “Would explain the fangs.” He points to his own teeth. Lance swears up and down, left right and centre that Keith’s canines were a tad on the pointy side when he caught him munching on that space goo. Does he spend all that time in the bathroom sharpening his teeth?

“They’re not—” Keith whirls around to face him. “I have very normal teeth, thank you.”

“You’re joking, right? Have you looked in the mirror lat—oh. Wait.”

“Lance,” chides Shiro, and come on mr. favouritism. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Oh! I see you’ve found the oldest mirror in our collection,” says Princess Evuth, making her way over. “It’s remarkable, really. It predates even this castle. It’s over hundreds of thousands of deca-phoebs old.”

“So it needs a clean, then?” says Lance. He finds it strange how dust manages to land on objects vertically. What’s even keeping it there?

“No, it simply doesn’t reflect. The legend goes that a meteorite fell from the sky unlike any our people have ever seen before. There wasn’t much of it, but my ancestor, Queen Oleeria, had it crafted into this very mirror you see before you by her own hand, wanting a metal so precious to be displayed in her room. It was strange. Despite it not being of our world, she found a way to connect with it in a way that defies words.” 

Lance casts the Princess and Coran a curious look, noticing how they both suck in a breath. Huh.

“They say that it’s a window,” Princess Evuth finishes, “A window to other realities.”

“Other realities?” repeats the echo in the room, Pidge, “Huh. I’ve read many theories about them from plenty of respected researchers, but that’s only speculation. And if it were possible, it would require a device much larger than a pane of glass.”

“Like I said, it’s just a legend. What matters is that my mother holds it dear. Please go careful near it as I… Princess Allura, are you quite alright?” 

Allura seems to snap out of some sort of dazed expression, pulling her hand back from where she was unconsciously reaching for the meteorite mirror. Double huh of the day. It’s not like her to space out like this. Coran similarly regards her with concern.

“Forgive me for interrupting. You were saying?”

Whatever Princess Evuth was saying, they’ll never know, as her eyes seem to fall on someone behind Lance. Turning around, he sees a prismarium with orange scales, dressed in a simplistic attire, signifying them as one of the castle staff. “Ah. Yes?”

“They’re ready for you, Princess.”

Princess Evuth glances at them all. “Perfect. Shall we?” 

***

The dining hall is utterly extravagant, maybe something reminiscent of Altea’s in its heyday, crystal chandeliers and a table so long the only way to communicate with the other side is via messenger pigeon. Atop the table boasts a bountiful feast fit for kings. Which makes sense. There’s a lot of royalty present. 

Princess Evuth ushers them past nervous castle staff and guests to the head of the table where the Queen currently sits, accompanied by two others Lance surmises are the Princess’ siblings, one red, and the other a darker shade of pink. Hot pink. And yet, just as equally hot as her sister. 

“Now this is what I call a feast,” says Hunk as they sit down, Lance opting to take the seat next to him and Allura (heck yeah). Hunk’s gaze lands inquisitively on a dish in front of them, and whilst Lance isn’t exactly chomping at the bit to eat food so fluorescent his insides could be glowing for decades, it’s a step above food goo. And at least it doesn’t move of its own accord. 

“It’s a special occasion,” says the Queen, and then a little louder, projecting her voice so at least half of the table can hear her. “Another quintant of our planet being free of the Galra. Let us pray that they do not find us here. Or if they do, we will have Voltron to keep them at bay.”

“Then can I assume you’re accepting our proposal to join the coalition?” Allura asks, hopeful. 

“Of course. It would be my pleasure. We are long due an era of peace.”

As Lance starts searching around for food he’ll be able to digest with minimal consequences (“Paladin, are you eating garnish?” Princess Evuth asks, clearly amused), and Hunk’s talking to Pidge about seasoning and five star reviews or something, Lance notices Allura’s got that weirdly glazed look in her eyes again. She hasn’t even touched her plate. Or added anything to it.

“Allura?” Lance prompts, his worry growing. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” She seems to come to. “Oh, yes.”

Lance doesn’t believe it for a second. The worry stays.

“Lance,” she says, “I’m fine. Truly. I—” She grunts, cradling her head. 

Coran jumps to attention. “Princess?”

“I’m okay,” she says through clenched teeth. “It’s just a headache.”

“Perhaps you would like to take one of our guest rooms to rest in?” suggests the queen, “I can have one of my staff escort you there.”

“I’ll come too!” says Coran, never one to waver when it comes to Allura’s wellbeing. 

“Please, there is no need to cause a fuss. I should be here to…” Allura winces. 

“It’s no fuss at all,” assures Queen Naex with a sympathetic smile. And before Allura has any more time to insist that she’s okay, she’s being led out of the room with Coran, the latter of the two returning about five-ish minutes later. 

After the feast, there’s a period of time where they mix and mingle, giving the chance for many of the other prismariums to ask them about Voltron, and what it’s like to fly the lions. Lance, of course, isn’t one to keep a crowd waiting. 

Allura’s still gone. 

“Do you think she’s hungry?” asks Hunk, a second conductor on the Allura train of thought, “I mean, there’s all this nice food, and she didn’t take anything. It seems like a shame that she has to miss out.“

“Ooor I could take some to her,” offers Lance, seeing an opportunity to check up on Allura. He’s worried, okay. And can you blame him? She always looks so strong, it’s easy to forget that she’s only human. Or, rather, altean. Guess they aren’t exempt from headaches. 

“Is this really the best time to try and make a move on Allura?” says Hunk, giving him an unimpressed look. 

“That’s not what—just help me find something she might like.” 

Considering they’re guessing here, they pile a plate up, the more the merrier, the greater chance at least one of the snacks will be a hit, and Lance starts making his way to the general vicinity of the guest rooms after getting one of the staff to repeat the direction to him about five times. Hey. He’s just being careful. You could get lost in a place like this. 

He’s about halfway there when he spots Allura, having apparently decided a walk would clear her head. 

“Allura!” he says, rushing up to greet her. “Is your head feeling better? I’ve brought you some food from the feast and… uh. Allura?”

Not for the first time today, her eyes are glazed over. She’s also continuing on her walk, oblivious to Lance’s presence. 

“Allura?” he says again, hoping it’ll snap her out as it did before. When it doesn’t, he starts waving his hand in front of her face, accidentally bonking her on the nose as she walks into it. Still no response. “Yoohoo? Princess? Are you still in there?”

Again. No response.

“Allura? Wakey wakey?”

Nothing.

“Uuuhhh. Are you sleeping beauty, because girl, you’re stuck in a trance.”

Well. Pick up lining her awake doesn’t work. But this does get Lance thinking. It does appear to be some sort of trance, one that started in the funhouse mirror room.

She had been trying to touch that mirror.

And now—

Lance remembers this hallway, remembers the door at the end.

“Nu-uh, Princess,” says Lance, attempting to hold Allura back. “I can’t allow you to do that. I know it’s a pretty cool mirror and all, but it’s super old and grimy. You don’t want to put your hands all over it.”

Allura pays him no mind. No anything. His cheap attempt at restraining her simply doesn’t go noticed when a) she’s under some sort of sleeping beauty curse that’s gonna get her to prick her finger or something on a mirror (?) and b) Allura’s an altean with unthinkable level of raw strength. Lance wouldn’t last two seconds against her in an arm wrestling contest. 

He could really do with backup right now. But he doesn’t have his helmet comms, and there’s no time to run for help. He’ll have to play this smart. 

A barricade. That’s it. He needs a barricade. That should slow her down, long enough for him to get the others. 

Lance runs ahead, and drags some fancy cabinets from the hallway over to the door, mentally apologising to the prismariums for any damages that might occur. It’s very much not a one person job, but he makes do, pulling together a makeshift barricade out of what he has.

“Now, if this can stop you long enough—” Lance is interrupted by the sound of splintering wood as Allura breaks through. 

Oh cheese. Even those barricades you see in movies hold longer than that. 

Lance is desperate now, holding her arm and refusing to let go as she gets closer and closer to it. Lance can power of love this, right? That’s usually the hero’s last trump card, and it always works at the last possible moment. 

“Don’t do this!” Lance says, then starts wracking his brain for other quotes, noticing how the mirror’s surface starts to swirl like rolling smoke. “You have to fight it, Allura. We need you, here, with us, to save the universe. We can’t do that if you get possessed by an evil mirror. Or—Or—Whatever it’s doing to you! Don’t listen to it!”

***

𝙽𝚘𝚠

“But, uh, long story short: you listened to it. So I guess we’re here now?” Lance says, finishing up his own abridged version of the story. There really wasn’t much for him to tell. “Wherever here might be. Hey, does this mean we’re inside of the mirror? Is this some freaky mirror world?”   

Lance has played some horror games like this before. Very brain trippy. The reverse controls were a pain. 

“I can’t be sure. Wherever we are, it’s certainly not Queen Naex’s castle.” Her eyes scan the room, taking in the blue walls, and high ceiling, all incredibly familiar. “The Castle of Lions I believe? Though I can’t say I recall this room. Or this… photo?”

From a nightstand, Allura picks up a photograph, looking at it for no longer than a second before her face is flushing. She immediately presses it down, frame first, back where she found it. 

Now, that’s curious. “Uh…”

“It’s nothing important,” says Allura, not looking him in the eye. Weird. She clears her throat. “Remember what the Princess said? About the mirror being a window to other realities?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s as if it… called to me, wanting to show me something. It felt warm, and familiar, and I at first mistook it for my bond I share with the lions. It felt like coming home.” She takes a steady breath. “There could be truth to her tale. Though instead of a window, it is a door.”

Lance blinks. “Well huh. Aliens and now the multiverse. Sci-fi’s starting to feel like a documentary.”

“You’re remarkably calm.”

“You kind of just learn to roll with it. Takes a lot to phase me, you know.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep,” says Lance, sliding himself off the bed. Huh. Something feels off. “Is it me, or am I taller?”

“It’s not just you. We seem to be occupying the bodies of our variants. They’re a little older than we’re used to.”

Lance splutters. “Older?! Don’t tell me I have wrinkles!? Do I have wrinkles?”

“… Well.”

Her pause is telling. “My skincare routine! How could you future me? What about our future?” Lance laments, a great tragedy indeed. All his hard work and age is failing him. He’s too young to be this old!

“Were you not just telling me about how it takes a lot to phase you?”

“And this is a lot! I mean, we wake up who knows where, in a bed… together. Um.” Backtrack, backtrack. He gulps, feeling his face warm once more. “So in this universe—”

“Reality.”

“—Uh. In this reality. Are you and me—?”

“Yes.”

He tries not to squeak. It doesn’t work. “So this means we—?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” she says, curt, to the point. It betrays no emotion.

“Oh. Okay,” says Lance, that buoyant feeling in his chest sinking into a wreckage of scraps. Cool, cool, cool. No thinking about this very real reality where he and Allura may be in a committed relationship. No prob. 

“We need to focus on finding our way back.”

“You’re right.”

Something in Allura’s eyes softens slightly. “Look, Lance. We can talk later. But for now, we must find our entry point into this reality. Voltron needs its blue paladin.”

“And its Princess,” adds Lance, because if they need him, they sure as quiznack need her. “Let’s get looking.”

[kurokoros]

liar liar | bakugou katsuki

Rated: M

Words: 9.4K

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.

AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks

***

Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.

Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”

“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”

Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.

“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.

Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.

Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.

Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.

Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”

Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—

He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.

On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.

“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 

The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.

He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.

When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.

A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.

You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.

The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.

Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.

Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.

“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”

He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”

Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.

You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.

Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.

“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 

“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”

Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.

The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.

Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.

“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”

Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.

Yeah, this should be fun.

You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 

“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.

Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.

If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”

The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.

His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.

But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.

“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.

Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him

Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.

“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”

Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.

You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”

Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.

But he’s not going to give in this time.

The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.

You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”

“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”

Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”

He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”

“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”

Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.

“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”

Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”

You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.

“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 

Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”

Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.

A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.

Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—

“What are you thinking right now?”

The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”

You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 

Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.

Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.

It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.

His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”

A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”

“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”

There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”

You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.

Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”

Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”

You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.

“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 

He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.

Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.

His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.

At least at first.

With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.

The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.

You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.

By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.

When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.

You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.

“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”

The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.

As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 

You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.

Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.

The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.

You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.

But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 

Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.

Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.

“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.

He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 

“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.

Fine. You can play this game, too.

With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.

The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.

He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.

Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 

Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.

Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.

He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.

Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.

“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”

You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”

He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”

It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.

Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.

Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.

You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”

You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 

You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.

He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.

You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.

“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 

Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.

You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”

You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 

“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”

You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.

Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.

Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.

His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 

The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.

Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”

Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”

“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”

Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.

But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.

The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.

And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.

“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”

Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”

You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”

“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.

He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” you mewl.

He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.

“Good girl.” 

There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.

Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.

He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.

“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.

All you can do is hold on and take it.

You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.

“No, Sir,” you pant.

“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”

Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.

He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”

You nod, delirious.

And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”

Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.

This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.

He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.

You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.

Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”

Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”

He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.

He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”

[t0wnspersonb]

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

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Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

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Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425​ I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

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“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

 His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

 “I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

 His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

 You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

 Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son. 

 So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away. 

 He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

 “Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily. 

 You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

 His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

 Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention. 

 You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

 “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip. 

 Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

 How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

 “So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

 But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

 “Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

 He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?” 

 “Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

 It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body. 

 A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

 Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

 ****

 This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going. 

 Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

 Perfection. 

 That was this was.

 “Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core. 

 You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely. 

 This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

 “Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

 “Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

 The cruel bastard.

 “Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

 “Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

 A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

 You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

 His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

 You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

 “Mama?” 

 You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

 You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

 Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

 His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

 “Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

 The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

 “Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!” 

 Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand. 

 “She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

 Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

 “Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children. 

 “Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

 “What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

 Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing. 

 But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now. 

[malereader-inserts]

Chamber of Reflection

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: Oh dearest Sherlock, are you ready to move on? Word Count: 2,329 Warning: Blood and Death

“I don’t believe in love.”

You scoff out a laughter before turning to look at them, your smile dropped as you looked at them incredulously, “You’re kidding me right?”

“No?” They questioned back as if it was totally obvious because that’s how they were as a person, “I just don’t believe in love.”

“Impossible,” You shake your head, “Everyone believes in love, you, you’re different. You believe you don’t deserve love. That’s a whole different thing.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Same thing.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock,” You folded your arms over your chest, “Your mother loves you, that’s family love. John loves you, that’s platonic love. I love you.”

“What type of love is that?”

“Figure it out, smartass.”

He never really figured it out.

Sherlock was smart, but he’s dumb at the same time. 

He could rattle your ear off with different topics that he was interested in. He could give you a rundown about who you are and he probably knew you better than you knew yourself. But, give him a topic on a basic thing - he’ll malfunction. 

“The planets? Sherlock, surely you couldn’t have deleted that out your head.”

“You underestimate me, (Y/n).”

“Clearly,” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes, “But, I know you didn’t bring me here to talk about what basic stuff you’ve decided to ignore or have deleted from your so-called hardware.”

“At least you’re able to keep up with me,” Sherlock comments as you give yourself a little nod to the side as acknowledgement.

“Well, what is it?”

“Talk to me more about love, please.”

You narrow your eye at him, tilting your head to the side for a second, you were suspicious of his intention before sighing and tending to his question - after all, it is rare to have Sherlock say please, it’s not an opportunity to pass up.

“How desperate must you be for this information as you did say please.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Alright,” you had your hands up in defence, “Well, love is different to each person and I can’t really help you that much Sherlock because it’s a learning process and it’ll be brutal. In a...somewhat good way.”

“That doesn’t explain anything at all!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “When you love someone, you just kinda know.”

“Right.”

“And...”

“Well, spit it out.”

You give him a soft smile, almost as if you knew something he didn’t know. Like you had to bit your tongue and refuse to tell him. He looks at your eyes, there is a glint of sadness, though he doesn’t comment on it as he allows you to speak.

“Love is going to ruin you someday, it doesn't matter if you don't believe in love, it doesn't matter if you think that you don't have the capacity to love someone, nothing matters. What matter is that one day you will fall in love and fall so hard that it will ruin you to the point that you will not be able to think correctly, to the point that your illness and cure both will be the love of your life, love will ruin you to the point you will look for sanity in insanity.”

“Back again so soon, Sherlock?”

He doesn’t answer you as he stands across from where you had claimed as your spot, you tilt your head in confusion at his silence, Sherlock loves to talk so why isn’t he talking. 

“Must be a rough day then, ay Sherlock?” You continue to talk, “I don’t blame you, having a fight with your best friend and then your brother being annoying as ever - Mycroft just doesn’t shut up.”

“How do you know about my day, this is the first time I’ve seen you this week?” Sherlock questions.

You knitted your eyebrows together, your lips pursed together, as you give him room to think before interrupting.

“When will you come to the terms that you’re the one who killed me?”

At that moment, Sherlock stops. If a record of music was playing then it did the scratching halt. Sherlock looks over to your way, he didn’t realise that at some point he had stopped looking at you, you sat there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re not dead.”

“Not in your mind palace, Sherlock,” You say, you look at your surrounding, “In here, I’m very much...alive.”

“You’re not dead,” Sherlock stammers out, blinking frantically, “You’re here, in front of me.”

You dismissed his words, “Funny, each time you come to talk to me, we’re in the same room you killed me in. I have to give you props, though, you really have memorised the room I died.”

“It was your house.”

“Yeah!” You snapped your finger and pointed to him, “You remembered, I’m slightly touched.”

“You can’t be dead.”

“And we’re back to denial,” You hummed, sitting comfortably on the edge of the sink, “Look around you Sherlock, you’re just blocking and deleting things out.”

“No, I am not.”

“Look at the blood, Sherlock.”

Your voice was firm as he shuts his eyes, hoping you had calm down because he could clearly hear anger behind the words you spat. Sherlock opens his eyes and there, he saw the full picture. 

You sat on the sink of the kitchen, behind you were the windows and adjacent to your head was cabinets. Both were painted with the splatter of blood. He looked at your appearance, there was red upon your hands and your clothes...

Your clothes, every time he had visited you, you were still in the same clothes - he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to you about it, he knows from you and John that pointing stuff out can be offensive. 

Your clothes, they were drenched in blood - your blood. 

“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock, look at me.”

Sherlock doesn’t want to, he wants to rearrange the whole scenario and pretend that everything was rainbows and happy, yet he looked at you. He stared deep into your eyes and had to stop himself from gagging at the scene.

There was a bullet hole at your forehead, dried blood seems to drip from the wound when it was fresh. 

“Don’t you remember Sherlock?” You asked, looking at him, “You killed, but at what cost?”

“I-”

“I mean, I know why you killed me, after all, I’m just living in your head so I get to know about what you’re thinking and all. But, I really want to hear it from your own mouth.”

Sherlock felt like he was stuck in this nightmare because essentially he was, he couldn’t just snap back into reality or wake up from his sleep. He felt like you had restraints on him and he’s unable to breakthrough.

“I killed you...” He murmurs as you lean forward, “I killed you because I loved you.”

You chuckled, softly, “Love, it makes you do real crazy things.”

See, Sherlock kept you in his head because you were important to him. You were his first and only love, you and Sherlock have known each other since primary school. You had been his only friend, even if he kept pushing you away. 

You were the only one who could keep up with his smarts and his weird little thinking, but you were by his side - his first best friend. The man he loved. When the two of you got into high school, you and him were often seen together. You humanised Sherlock, back then he understood what it means to feel.

He was human back then, not this sociopathic man that he grew up to be. Sherlock loved you, just like you loved him. Even if you never really said anything out loud, he knew that you loved him with the way you grabbed him by his wrist and leading him away, it was the soft smile, gentle looks and caring words. 

He wished he was able to spend a little longer being your boyfriend because you two managed fess up your feelings when you were eighteen. You were about to go to University, away from Sherlock. He wished he had mustered the courage to ask you to be his boyfriend years before.

“Sherlock, I’m not mad that you killed me.”

Sherlock snapped back into his room with you, you looked at him with the same caring eyes he grew up with, he tilts his head in confusion, he’s missing something in this memory - did he block it out or did he deleted it forever?

“They would have killed me anyway, I don’t have a life further than this Sherlock, both you and I know this,” He listens to your tender voice carefully, you’re no longer angry at him just angry that Sherlock refuses to move on, “You and I did it, Sherlock, you framed the murder perfectly on them.”

Them.

Who was them?

Sherlock looks at you before he hurled himself into the memory.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m quite aware of that Sherlock!”

Sherlock stands by the doorway of the kitchen, it’s messy as you sat on the sink, lifting your shirt to see the wound. You cringed, even Sherlock couldn’t remember what had happened to make you look like this and losing blood rapidly.

“You’re being remarkably calm about this.”

“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen,” You say, pulling your shirt down and you looking at your boyfriend.

“We need to take you to the hospital.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock, if they found out I went there. They’ll kill me!”

“They’ll kill you either way!” Sherlock pressed on, “Please, there must be some other way.” 

“You kill me,” You said almost immediately, you looked at him with sharp eyes.

“No, (Y/n), no, are you an idiot?” Sherlock hissed at you, “There is another way, we just have to think about it.”

“We don’t have time to think, Sherlock,” You admitted, “They kill me, they’ll hind the evidence and go live another day, free, do you want that for me?”

“Of course not!” Sherlock was offended that you would suggest that, “I can prove that they kill you, I can do it - you can trust me.”

“I trust you, Sher,” You say, desperate and lovingly, “But, wouldn’t it be better to frame them?”

Sherlock stood there, weighing out the pros and cons in your thinking. Perhaps it was clouded, his judgement as he sees you point out a gun on the kitchen table and reminding him to use a glove so they don’t pick up any of his fingerprints. 

What was going through Sherlock’s mind? He wouldn’t be able to tell you, because when he aimed the gun at you there was no thought behind his eyes. You swallowed nervously.

“Hey, Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Just know I love you, and I will never hold it against you.” 

“I know.”

“Sherlock?” He looks back at you, “Oh, good, you’re responsive.”

“I never said I love you.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you laughed, he pretends that it didn’t slightly hurt him, “You think I didn’t know?”

Sherlock looked down then back up at you, you were back in clean clothes and the surrounding of your kitchen was clean. Though, you didn’t look phased. 

“I mean-”

You raised an eyebrow, “You did at least frame them right? My parents?”

Sherlock knitted his eyebrows, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock looks at you, watches you breathe in and out, there was a clear disappointment and you had stopped intensely watching him. You turn to look back at him, he was surprised to see you smile at him as you clapped your hand.

“Well, I’m not going to shy away from saying that I am disappointed, perhaps that’s why you blocked out the memory,” You spoke, crossing your arms.

“I can fix it!”

“Can you?”

“I made a name for myself, (Y/n), Mycroft can help me as well as Craig-”

“Greg-”

“Whatever, and we can finally bring you justice, maybe you could be at peace.”

“It’s not me that I’m concern for peace, Sherlock, you’re the one who keeps me alive in your mind palace,” You admitted as you lay down the reality of Sherlock, “It’s time to let me go. The question is: Are you ready?”

Mycroft comes knocking at the door, he was greeted by John.

“Sherlock is busy,” John says from his armchair as Mycroft enters without a proper invite. 

Mycroft looks around the room before stopping at the bookshelves, a picture frame that was permanently situated as face down was now standing, showing the picture that was kept hidden from the world.

Mycroft makes his way towards it as John looks at him.

“Sherlock put it up yesterday, along with a new case.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Mycroft leered, softly smiling to himself, “What’s the case about?”

“The murder of (Y/n) (L/n), Sherlock is convinced that it wasn’t suicide, though I don’t know how he knows about the case, that was closed over a decade ago - at least that’s was Lestrade said.”

“Watson, do you know who is standing next to Sherlock in this picture?”

John looked at the picture, he could recognise Sherlock when he was younger. he still had the curls and bright blue eyes, standing straight up, next to him was a boy smiling and had his arm over the sociopath’s shoulder - though back then, you could hardly call Sherlock a sociopath.

“No?”

“That is (Y/n) (L/n),” Mycroft says as John’s eyebrow raised up, “He is the reason why Sherlock snapped and changed in his behaviour. His death caused Sherlock to lose his pathway.”

“He means a lot to Sherlock?”

“Well, he is the only person Sherlock truly love romantically. Perhaps the first and love of Sherlock.”

“Sherlock loved him?”

“He still does, it’s why he’s reopening this case because dear Watson, between us two and Sherlock. This is not a case to solve a murder, this is to frame someone of murder and we’re going to help him.”

[ghostly-shenanigans-in-progress]

BNHA X DP Crossover HCs

After the long wait and finals, here are my ideas for all the quirks/occupations and other concepts I devised for the DP characters in the BNHA universe. This was just for fun and for inspiration towards others interested in this crossover au in general. 

Tagging the people that were looking forward to this post based on the replies: @qoinq-qhost, @floralflowerpower, @tgfangirl4eva @goodfish-bowl, @whitehairglowinggreeneyedcrush and more. 

Anyways, happy reading, folks!

Mr. Lancer

Hero name: Mr. Scholastic

Quirk: Bookworm

Involves his iconic usage of literature titles & quotes for swears to become abilities corresponding to the novel’s contents/themes. Course, he is limited to only books he has read and can quote accurately. Additionally, his voice gets very raspy past two or three quotes as well.

Occupation: Homeroom Teacher for Class 1- A; He’s very dedicated to his new students and teaching the fundamentals of being a pro hero and more! Course, I don’t think his chamomile tea with a wedge of lemon is enough to help him relax from his students (*cough* Danny, Tucker and Poindexter) from their antics at times. 

Danny

Hero name: Phantom 

Quirk: Ghost core (Ok, @coffeecakecafe had the best name for this one gotta give credit here)

Able to do anything a ghost is perceived to do. Go through walls, disappear and fly. This is a one of a kind quirk as it was obtained from Danny’s old quirk being altered by a machine his parents made that would repurpose/alter an individual’s quirk based on their past family members' own metahuman genetics.

Danny is doing his best and trying to understand his new quirk without causing too much attention to himself while doing so but it seems like its been doing the opposite as of late. Thankfully, he won’t be doing it alone with all his classmates around to help him!

Sam

Hero Name: Black Dahlia 

Quirk: Overgrown 

Able to create any plant that she knows the biological makeup and content of in almost any environment. However, it is important for her to drink lots of nutrient rich water and take in enough sun if she plans to create larger versions of these plants.

Tucker

Hero name: Tech Master

Quirk: Tech Core

Located on his chest/heart area is a special energy core capable of powering electronics at a rate faster than anything made-man could ever hope to achieve. As a kid, Tucker would tinker away in his family’s garage on a suit that would harness his power to the fullest extent and lead a new era of support tech in the hero world.

Valerie

Hero name: Red Huntress

Quirk: Electromagnetism (Someone I’ve been trying to find their post on my blog had posted this idea and I fell in love with it ever since)

She’s like Static Shock but with a dash of magenta/ruby lasers she can create through focusing her electromagnetism through her finger tips. She is an expert with her quirk and has the best handle of her quirk than most of her peers. She is the most frequent visitor in the support equipment workshop next to Tucker, Poindexter and Danny. It’s how she built the hoverboard she has in the show that utilizes her electromagnetic abilities for both offensive and defensive maneuvers. (Also, I enjoy the idea that Bullet is Val’s uncle on her mom’s side and is her biggest supporter alongside her dad, Damien Gray).

Jazz 

Quirk: Serenity 

Helps calm individuals and give them a sense of safety/security when they’re around her in a 10 feet radius. Though, anyone out of range cannot be affected by her quirk and she needs to be conscious in order to use it.

She planned on becoming a pro hero but felt her powers were best suited for her dream profession as a psychologist. She has used her quirk a lot when Danny was overwhelmed with his studies prior to UA. Course, a phone call and sibling chat over the phone certainly does the job for Danny now when it comes to preparing material for exams. (Course, its up to you guys to decide)

Dash

Hero name: Rager

Quirk: Strength Magnification

Improves his physique and stamina by a large percentage for a set amount of time. Needs to be careful of how much/long he magnifies his body or else his body will become immensely sore. 

Kwan

Hero name: Rallier 

Quirk: Team Rally (50/50)

Able to duplicate himself 3-4 times while being able to power-up allies’ quirks or stamina with a rally chant to help the team. The more duplicates there are the rally effect multiplies/stacks on the individual but it can lead to dangerous outcomes for their quirk output. 

Kwan is the class representative for 1-A, he’s the best at the job and was more than thrilled to be the one leading his class in more ways than one.  

Paulina

Hero name: Enchantress

Quirk: Charm

If the opponent is flustered by her taunts or flirting, their vision will become altered and start seeing things that are not there. It works better on men than women and the opponent can snap out of it with enough willpower or if they’re not interested in her.

Star

Hero name: Ms. Meteorite

Quirk: Comet

Similar to Gran Torino’s Jet quirk except faster and she can create an explosive impact on where she lands. Similar to a meteorite landing on earth, she also learns to use this as a long distance move by punching fast enough as she descends to create wind pressure punches.

Poindexter

Hero name: Tex (like in Tex Avery; Danny gave him the idea!) 

Quirk: Slapstick

His appearance is black and white just like an old timey cartoon character as well as having the durability and cartoon powers of one. However, his quirk can only work as long as what he does with it is funny in the circumstance it’s used for. Sort of like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” rules in a sense. 

Sidney is part of Class 1-A just saying, I don’t care, this is Poindexter’s time to shine here to be the coolest/funniest person in the class. Also, Tucker’s most loyal friend/tester for new support items. 

Wes Weston

Hero name: Vigilance

Quirk: Deduction

He is able to deduct people’s identities to flaws/weak points for him to use against them and  exploit against problems. 

Class 1-B Representative and the most annoying/terrifying person that Danny has dealt with in his life. He was able to figure out that Danny’s quirk is not his own or more so that it's not natural and takes every opportunity to state this regardless if anyone is listening or not. 

Amber Mclain

Hero Name: Ember

Quirk: Fiery voice (50/50)

Her quirk uses the vibrations in her sining voice to conduct intense heat waves onto opponents or utilize to rumble the structures around here and even put out the flames from her quirk. Its like a combination of Present Mic and Endevours quirk but it leaves her with a strained or inflamed vocal cords with overuse. 

Third year student or an upcoming rock star that has certainly gain huge popularity after her song “Remember” was a nationwide hit amongst the younger generation. She’s striving to be the top hero while making her next hit to become the 1# song on the listings. 

Dani

Hero name: Phantwo (lol jk; unsure what her name would be)

Quirk: Poltergeist 

Similar to Danny’s quirk “Ghost”, except she has the additional ability to melt herself to a slimy puddle and use her ectoplasmic slime to trap or surprise opponents.

Clockwork

Hero Name: Clockwork

Quirk: Time Keeper

Clockwork’s quirk allows him to stop time for 5 to 15 minutes and be able to rewind it in the same amount of time. It can be one to multiple objects as long as he touches them in order to interact with them.

Principle of UA in this au. He’s quite a reserved man but still manages to visit and congregate with students throughout the school during lunch period. 

Flynn Fenton/Flynn Walker

Hero Name: The Green Knight

Quirk: Mineralization 

His quirk allows him to manipulate the minerals and inorganic materials in the atmosphere to create into crystalized constructs that are almost stronger than diamond. Luckily, the crystals have no value so he doesn’t have to worry about that aspect of his quirk. He does have to worry about his skin becoming dried out as a result of his quirk usage. 

Flynn is a third year student that loves to check up on his cousin, Danny, any chance he gets bc of the amount of work he does with his internships.

James Walker (or James W. Hausermann)

Hero name: Warden Wraith

Quirk: Plasma Apparatus

His quirk ionizes the electrolytes in the blood system into plasma. His entire body is composed of plasma giving him his skeletal appearance. He can create plasma chains, teleport from point A to B and more as long as he focuses and has enough energy at use. Course, he can have minor to severe dehydration and imbalance in his electrolyte levels from overuse. 

Occupation: CEO of an infrastructure security company/Provisional License Examiner just like Gang Orca.The ghost prison guards become his backup/helpers for the exam phases. (They’re just trained stuntmen with combat or military experience for the occasion).

Also, I like to think Walker has kids in this au who are in the Class 1-A group; they’re not hard to spot they take after their father with their skeletal complexion. 

Skulker

Villain name: Quirk Hunter

Quirk: Tracker

The moment Skulker makes eye contact with his target he will be able to hunt them down and find them anywhere no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. He can lock on to only one target, but he will be able to know their heart beat, quirk, be able to place a tracking/scent line that only he can see and will lead him to his target’s location. It lasts for over a day or a half.

Occupation: Skulker is known for capturing, info-detailing or “retiring” newcomer pros or specific quirk users for his clients that pay him handsomely for their targets, dead or alive. Thanks to Vlad, Danny was strictly intended to be captured alive by Skulker but sometimes he gets too thrilled by the hunt to not have a memento. Trust me, it's more of a dangerous 

Nicolai Technus 

Villain Name: Technus 

Quirk: Technopathy

A genius in his own right, even if he’s a little crazy, with the best ability possible for a man of science and innovation. As long as he knows the makeup and attributes of the machine, Technus is able to completely repurpose or change a machine’s qualities for offensive and defensive qualities. Whenever that be for a mech suit or hacking a high tech system for entry, he’s able to do it as long as he knows what it is and how it functions. An example is repurposing a slot machine into a submachine gun that shoots coins at the target. 

Vlad Masters

Name: Vlad Plasmius

Quirk: Vampire

Can do anything a vampire can supposedly do. However, he was able to manifest an additional aspect of this quirk which is the ability to copy any quirk users ability. Based on the type of blood he ingests decides the amount of time he can use the copied quirk for.

Occupation: CEO of his own hero firm, he is extremely selective with the interns he has that there is a major waitlist to be even consider for Masters Inc. Course, imagine the surprise Danny must of felt when he received an offer from Vlad right off the bat after the Sports festival. 

Bruce Guiles (Bullet)

Hero Name: Bullet 

Quirk: Sphyraena or Chimera Fish

Able to do anything a barracuda can do or the quirk is a 50/50 mutant quirk in which he has both the traits of a barracuda, Chimaeras and a touch of piranha from his parents being of one of these fish species hence Chimera. Bullet can do anything those fish can do overall but he can’t go too long without hydration from water. Water quality and its oxygen content also affect his abilities by a noticeable percentage but he still remains quite formidable as a quirk user.

Occupation: Captain of a coast guard team, he’s a strict military man with an amazing record of saving people from any disasters both on land and sea. Him and Walker are best buddies ever since they went to school together. 

Vortex

Hero Name: Vortex

Quirk: Storm Warning

Vortex can utilize any variation of a natural disaster depending on the environment he’s in. Hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, you name it he can create it for his use. However, despite his amazing control over his quirk it is still possible for him to create these disasters if he lost control or magnify another pre-existing one if he loses focus. 

Occupation: Storm-chaser/Forecaster; His control and knowledge in combating/predicting these natural disasters has led to him to be part of a storm chasing crew and they’re the best in helping disaster prevention teams evacuate citizens as a result.

Petra Eris

Hero name: Pandora

Quirk: Butterfly Effect

Can manipulate or prevent a chaotic event to happen if she was in proximity and present to prevent it to happen. Or even give a little chaos to the opponent to deal with during battle. 

One of the top ten heroes and most beloved heroes in the country. She is the best strategist in any team and has a way to predict any event before they happen given the necessity of it for her quirk to work in her favor. 

Johnny 

Vigilante name: Johnny 13

Quirk: Unlucky

Johnny manifests his bad luck into a shadow that will latch onto opponents and cause unfortunate events to occur more for that individual as a result. However, the shadow cannot exist in complete sunlight; it can only remain if there are already shadows in his general area or it’s nighttime and its effects are strongest at that time obviously.

Occupation: Johnny is the leader of a biker gang or de-facto leader of said biker gang who loves to raise hell and helping folks that need saving whenever he’s around or is up to the task. Kitty tags along with him to help him out of jams and bc she loves him. :3

Kitty

Vigilante name: Kitty

Quirk: Lovesick

Kitty sends a smooch towards her opponent which if it makes contact causes the individual to have nausea or become disoriented for around 10 minutes. It can also have a chance of lasting longer if the individual was sort of infatuated with her regardless of gender. 

Pariah Dark

Villain name: King Pariah

Quirk: Ultimate Adaptation 

Similar to all for one except with the unpredictability for both the user and opponents. Pariah can manifest any type of quirk needed to defeat anyone that stands in his way both one-on-one and in groups. Course, drawbacks are the learning curve to some of the quirks and that multiple adaptions he utilizes at once will destroy his cells in the process. 

Pariah is a former follower of all for one who had unique quirk that All for one augmented to help him succeed if both Shigaraki and Tomura failed in their own conquest for the world. But now Pariah has his own plans to succeed where they failed and become the leader who shapes a new world order with an iron fist. 

Frederick Kingsmen

Villain/vigilante name: Fright Knight

Quirk: Burning Energy Infusion

Able to form/infuse objects with his own burning energy life force that is capable of burning or slicing through any in his sight. The sweat he gives off is what provides the material needed to ignite his unnatural flames despite it causing his body to overheat still. 

Fright Knight is Pariah’s second-in-command with a loyalty to him as strong as his control over his power. Fright Knight has faced many pro-heros as he carried out the smaller phases of Pariah’s plans and most of them barely came close towards defeating or leaving as much as  scratch on the knight. 

Rodolfo Gonzalo  

Hero name: Wulf

Quirk: Werewolf + Portal creation (50/50?)

Can do anything a werewolf can supposedly do; somehow it allows him to create portals with his claws to locations he has marked with them or visited in the past. 

Wulf was abducted on by Pariah’s forces and sent into the Nomu labs for experimentation to force on another quirk and instill complete allegiance to their cause. Course, Wulf broke free as a result of that new additional quirk allowing him to escape their clutches and his previous one helping him survive the endeavor. However, he lost his memories in the process and could only remember his native language, Spanish, and his hero name Wulf. 

Overgrown

Villain/vigilante Name: Overgrown

Quirk: Plant Manipulation

Can manipulate any pre-existing plant matter or create new vegetation if water and soil is present for the process or he understand the biological makeup of the plant in question. 

Occupation: Pro-hero or eco-terrorist who is tired of humanity from abusing the environment from quirk battles to industries using the land for their own benefits and none others.

That’s all I have for now! I hope this was worth the wait, guys. As well as, inspire ideas for your takes with a DP x BNHA Crossover! 

[peterparker-pickedapepper]

Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

———————————————————————

I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

———————————————————————

                      Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic. 

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears. 

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for. 

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance. 

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. 

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd. 

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view. 

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside. 

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!” 

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away. 

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

———————————————————————

let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

[zevlors-tail]

Rooftops

Pairing: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Description: Sometimes being a Hero isn’t just fighting villains and rescuing people from burning buildings; sometimes it’s battling demons and rescuing people from themselves instead.

Warnings: Suicidal reader, thoughts of suicide, attempted suicide? (reader doesn’t succeed), trauma bonding, mentions of bullying, little bit of touch starvation? Talks of therapy, decision to try therapy.

A/N: I guess you could say I needed to vent some heavy things. PLEASE do not read this if you are triggered by anything mentioned above. Also, I HC that Midoriya never would have gone through with it, but he might have at one point been in the reader’s position, and I wish they would expand on how what Katsuki said and did to him in middle school affected his life more. I will never be satisfied until we get a proper apology from Bakugou and the two of them sort out their feelings about it, bc you KNOW that had to create some trauma. So I guess this might be sort of a fix-it fic? Also, I’m sorry for the ending, it might be cringe, idk. I can’t help but add fluff to everything I write, apparently. I love Best Boi, what can I say?

You breathed in the cool night air as you leaned against the railing, fingers trembling slightly against the rusty metal. Everything seemed so surreal; the noisy traffic below, the people bustling down streets and alleyways, the dimmed apartment lights from the building across... What did any of it matter? In the grand scheme of things, you were just a small spec of the universe observing all these phenomenons, a waste of space taking up time that could belong to something or someone more useful than your sorry excuse of an existence. That’s what you thought, at least.

You leaned a little farther over and rested your chest against the bars of steel. Would anyone miss you if you were to just...disappear? If you dropped everything and left right now, would anyone care? Would anyone cry for your absence? These were questions you had asked yourself over and over again, and each time you had managed to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, the answer was yes, someone would care. But each time the questions rolled around in your head, it got harder to convince yourself of that. You found doubts in every corner of your mind, in every crack and crevice of your brain that they could slink into. Quiet at first, but now as loud as a siren, they overwhelmed you and made you believe you were worthless. They beat you down, exhausted you, claimed your once happy spirit and soiled it with numbness and apathy. Those doubts were the reason you wholeheartedly believed that you no longer mattered to anyone.

They were also the reason you were twenty stories up in the air on the roof of your apartment building.

Steeling your nerves and taking a deep breath, you let everything sink in. This was what you were waiting for all these years. All of your life had lead up to this single moment; all of your past mistakes, all of your life decisions, all of the lost friends, your job, your family and their snide remarks, your short comings...and all the rest. It didn’t matter. Every time you blinked, every sneeze, every laugh, whether genuine or fake, didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, including you.

Nothing matters, and no one cares.

And with that final thought, you hoisted yourself up and over the railing, limbs heavy with a dull numbness as you planted your feet loosely on the other side. For a second you balanced yourself, arms outstretched behind you to grip on to the bars for one last fleeting sense of security. Just one more step. But even as you moved forward, you found that your hands seemed to tighten their grip on the steel, and suddenly you felt physical panic despite your mind telling you that this was what you really wanted. It seemed your body was defying your mind.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

Startled, you stumbled back and tightened your hold on the rails until your knuckles turned white. Were you imagining things, or did you just hear a voice? And if so, who was it and what were they doing all the way up here? Whatever their business was though, it surely had nothing to do with you, right? So why were they meddling in your affairs when you just wanted to be left alone? The thought of it was just a little too much, and you found yourself snapping at whoever was behind you.

“Uh, yeah, I think I do.” It came out more spiteful than you meant it to sound. But then, that was just how you were these days...bitter and cold. All the more reason to end everything.

“Please, just come back over here to the other side of the railing. We can talk if you want, or I can just sit with you, or we can listen to music together if that would help?” The stranger’s voice was gentle and pleading, as if he was afraid to break you if he spoke too loud. 

“Just leave me alone! Why do you care anyway?” You stole a glance behind you to get a good look at the person trying to talk you down. The first thing you noticed was the green hair, and then the pair of concerned emerald eyes reflecting back at you. Under those were a set of freckles, giving him an overall boyish look, and finally- his costume. You recognized Japan’s Number One Hero, Deku.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt...or worse.” His tone was solemn. “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave you alone up here. Clearly you had one purpose for coming up here, and I’m not going to let you go through with it.”

For a moment, you felt your heart soar at the possibility that someone cared after all. But just as hope was about to take root and bloom within your chest, it seemed that your mind had other ideas to cut the poor blossom out. As fast as the feeling settled, it was gone, and you reminded yourself that this was his job; he was required to help anyone who he thought might be in trouble. It wasn’t like he really wanted to be up here talking to you.

“What the hell do you know about why I’m up here? And anyways...it’s your job to save people. You don’t have to pretend to care about me. It doesn’t matter if you’re the number one hero or not, you’re still going to forget about me some day or another. A week from now you won’t even think twice about me. I’m forgettable. I don’t matter...not really. So please just leave me be. You’re bothering me.” No matter how hard you tried to keep the anger in your voice, you couldn’t help how it faded with each passing second. It was tiring to keep feeling everything and nothing all at once. You wanted it all to just stop.

There was long moment of silence that passed between the two of you, which you took as a sign that you had been right about everything you had just said. Your anxieties and nerves were starting to get to you by then; you were about to really go through with it and had inched forward slightly when he decided to speak again. 

“Once, someone told me to take a swan dive off the roof of my old school.” Your breath hitched as you stopped in your tracks. “I know what it’s like not to be wanted or needed by everyone around you. To feel like a failure, like there’s no hope left... Like you’re not worth saving. But even if you really think and believe all those things you said about yourself, just know that I care. And it’s not because it’s my job to, or because I’m a Pro Hero, or because I just happened to be in the area and saw you up here after my shift ended. It’s because at one point in my life, I could relate to where you are now.”

You were left without words for once as you stood there, wind whipping through your hair and eyes focused on nothing in particular. After the initial shock wore off, you finally turned around to face him. You searched his eyes for any trace of deception, anything to prove that maybe he was lying or just trying to get to you, but all you could find was sincere honesty. And Deku, upon seeing you turn around from the edge of the building, seemed to tense for a second before continuing.

“I climbed up to the top of the school roof that day and when I got up there, I just...stared down. All I could think about at the time was making the pain and the numbness go away. But then I thought of my mom’s face when she would hear the news...and I thought of how I would only be a statistic after that- a number, you know, like the ones I recorded every day in my notebook. But I didn’t want that. I had a name that I loved, a mother waiting for me at home, and a dream I was still holding on to. I realized what I really wanted was to prove everyone wrong, to still become the hero I wanted to be as a little boy. And even more than that, I just wanted the pain to stop. I think that’s what people truly want- just to feel better.” He gave you a small smile and offered a hand to you after that, and you swore his eyes were glistening a little if you looked close enough. “I would care if you were gone. I would think about it every day. I don’t even know your name, but your face is already engraved in my mind. I would have made the biggest mistake of my life had I ended things that day; look at where I am now! If I let someone else take away all their future opportunities and potential life experiences knowing that I could have stopped them, knowing that I didn’t offer them the support I desperately wanted when I was going through it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“...you mean that?” You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice.

“Every word. Please, just come back over to this side and talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I promise I’ll do my best to help however I can.”

Something pulled at your heartstrings as you listened to him. He had put into words everything you had been feeling these past few months, everything you wanted to express but just couldn’t. Tentatively, you reached out a hand to meet his, and he wasted no time as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and hoisted you back over the railing towards safety and into his arms.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out. His arm was still wound tight around your waist as he pulled you flush to him and walked you backwards. When the two of you reached the wall of the entryway to the rooftop, he stopped and slid down to the floor with you, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his lips. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again.” You blinked back tears as you leaned into Deku’s tight hug, your arms coming up to wrap around him as well. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so loving and caring with you or the last time you had been hugged like this. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

That was all it took for the dam inside of you to burst.

Hot tears finally spilled over and soaked Deku’s costume as all the emotions you had been suppressing came back full force. You hid your face in his shirt to try and stifle your cries as much as you could, but it was no use. There was no hiding the turmoil in your soul; all you could do was endure the sadness and frustration while he held you and comforted you. Slowly the reality of the situation started to sink in, and the realization that you almost took your own life hit you full force.

“I...I almost-!” You didn’t have the strength to finish your sentence as you sobbed harder and shook in the hero’s arms. He eventually shifted the two of you around to a more comfortable position and rubbed circles on your shoulder soothingly while you cried, a look of understanding and empathy in his eyes.

“But you didn’t. And you know what that tells me? That despite all those lies you’re telling yourself, there’s still a part of you left that wants to live. There’s still a part of you, no matter how small, that’s holding on to hope that things will get better. Find that feeling deep down inside you, grasp it, and never let go of it. You deserve to exist here. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to wake up each day and live and enjoy life. And I know you probably don’t feel that way right now, but believe me when I say that it’s the truth.” A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you took a moment to contemplate his words.

“You said we could talk if I wanted to...” you sniffled.

“Sure, we can talk. It doesn’t even have to be about anything in particular. Whatever you want to talk about, I’ll listen.”

So you told him everything. You poured your heart out to someone who was no more than a stranger to you, even if you recognized his face because it was plastered on every poster and broadcasted on every T.V. Even if you knew who Deku was, the person behind the mask was someone else entirely, and it brought a sense of comfort to you to know that a real person was listening to your troubles and caring about them. For once, someone was taking the time to make you a priority, and that was not something you were used to.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired of listening to me by now. I can’t believe I dumped all of that on y-” you tried to apologize, but he shook his head and cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t be. I offered, didn’t I? I genuinely want to hear about what’s troubling you. Everyone deserves to be listened to, especially when they’re hurting. You’re important, and what you have to say is also important. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

You blinked up at him with wide eyes. How was he so good at this? A thought crossed your mind then, and you wondered for a brief moment if...had anyone ever listened to him? He had taken the time to calm you down and make you feel important by listening wholeheartedly to everything you had to say. The least you could do was return the favor, right?

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good listener?” you asked, a small but sincere smile on your face.

“Yes, actually. Plenty of times, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. It just means I’m succeeding at making others feel important, which is what I aim to do, so thank you for that.” He stared up at the night sky, his eyes reflecting the sparkling stars above. They were...so full of life. You found that fact inspiring.

There was a small pause before you asked him another question, hesitance evident in your voice. “Have you...told anyone? About what you said to me earlier, I mean.” It came out more awkward than you intended it to, and he seemed confused about what you were trying to ask.

“About what I said to you earlier?”

“Y-You know, the...rooftop...” you trailed off, not wanting to pry if he didn’t want to talk about it after all. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed since you mentioned it earlier that maybe you wanted to talk about it or something- Ah, I’m making things worse, I’m really sorry!” You ran your hands through your hair, anxiety getting the better of you and making your heart race. Deku shifted slightly beside you but kept his arm around your shoulders, a look of understanding coming over him.

“Oh, that?” He gave a small airy laugh. “While I appreciate the concern, I have a really great therapist. It’s kind of a requirement for Pros; we deal with a lot on the job.”

“...oh.” Oh. Oh. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but certainly not...that. “Again, I’m sorry if I pried,” you apologized one last time. At the sound of your third ‘I’m sorry’, Deku looked over at you thoughtfully.

“You know, I used to apologize a lot too. Actually, my therapist was the one who got me to kick the bad habit. Speaking of which...” He reached into one of the red pouches on his costume belt and produced a single card between his index and middle finger, the lamination of it emitting a dim glare as he held it out to you. “I think you could really benefit from therapy. I’m not saying that to be rude or anything-!” His face flushed as he tried to explain himself; he didn’t want you to feel like he was dismissing you or that he wasn’t concerned with your issues. “I swear! I just...really think you could use another person in your corner right now. They’re super nice, I promise! I’ll even help you set up an appointment if you want.”

You shrunk a little at the idea of seeing a therapist, but took the card anyway. The writing on the little piece of plastic stared back at you menacingly, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your gut.

Dr. T/N T/L/N Deku Agency Specialist in Psychology Phone: 800-888-8880 Email (Mon-Fri): T/nT/l/n@deku.agencies.com Office Hours: Mon-Sat, 9am-5pm

As if he could read your turbulent mind, Deku pulled you closer and rested his head against yours. “I know talking to someone else about your problems seems scary at first, but it really helps. If you keep everything bottled up, then those feelings and problems don’t have anywhere to go, and they’ll eat you up on the inside. Therapy gives you a safe way of letting those feelings out and sorting through problems in healthy ways. Of course it’s ultimately your choice, and everybody’s experience differs...but it did help me.”

You considered everything he said, including his offer to help schedule an appointment. If nothing else, you could really use another friend... You pocketed the card and decided to worry about it later; exhaustion was starting to settle in by now, and the air only seemed to get colder by the minute. It had to be past midnight by now.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. It means a lot to me, truly. I’ll...think about the therapist.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. But in the mean time, can I see your phone?” The question caught you off guard and forced you back to the reality of where you were, and what you’d planned to do earlier.

“Uh, well...” you started, “I left it in my apartment. I didn’t think I’d need it up here since... Anyway, I don’t have it on me.” You stared off to the side, not wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

“Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, I live in this apartment building.”

“Oh! Then, I’ll walk with you back to your apartment, since it’s getting kind of cold now. But first...” He whipped out his own phone, opening the contacts app and clicking on the ‘Create New Contact’ option. “What’s your phone number?”

“My phone number?” You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, so I can text you and call you. I’d like to be friends, if that’s okay?” He gave you a shy smile with a faint blush, and it was hard not to burst into tears again.

A friend. You had made a new friend. One that cared about you, that wanted to make sure you were okay, that would put in time and effort to talk to you and see you. You could hardly believe it.

“Really?”

“Of course! Sooo, can I have it, then? Oh, and I guess I’ll need your name at some point too, huh?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“It’s Y/N,” you stated happily.

You immediately gave your number to him, and then the two of you stood to go back inside. He helped you up and held the door open for you, and from there you took the stairs back to your apartment. You made small talk on the way back, and things finally started to feel normal to you for once. But as soon as you turned down the hall that led to your apartment door, you started to feel it; that familiar sinking feeling was creeping in, apathy and the sense of nothingness overwhelming you again. The night was finally coming to an end. You would go back to your apartment, and things would go back to normal, and Deku would probably forget that you even existed. He said he would text, but would he really? He was so busy with hero work, and you half expected things to go back to the way they would be. What if nothing changed? What if you went back to feeling numb? What if everything that happened tonight didn’t really matter? What would you do?

“Whoah, Y/N, slow down. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Huh? Shit! Had you said all that out loud?

You panicked as you stared at your door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face between his hands, tilting your head up to meet his concerned gaze. “Everything will be okay. But these kinds of problems don’t just disappear over night, they need time, and sometimes some outside help from others. I promise to keep in touch with you. I want to make sure you’re okay, and I’d like to get to know you better too. Maybe I can introduce you to my friends? They’re really great people, and they would make you feel right at home. But for now, let’s just focus on one thing, okay? Let’s get you settled back into your apartment for the night.” He ruffled the top of your head softly, and while others might have taken the gesture as offensive or belittling, you were just glad to have felt his warm touch.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, and you twisted the handle to the door, which you remembered you had left unlocked.

The small apartment greeted you with familiar darkness, that is, until Deku flipped your light switch and the few lamps you had lit up the living room. He let himself in and shut the door behind the two of you, earning a surprised look from you and giving you an apologetic look of his own. “I don’t mean to intrude...I just...” He looked like he was choking over his own words. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you be alone right now...but if you want me to leave, then-”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” you were quick to cut him off. You had wanted to invite him to stay, but you also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, it seemed like he beat you to the punch. “I don’t mind you staying. Besides, it’s late, and you look tired. The couch pulls out into a bed; let me get you some extra blankets.” 

You tried your best to be hospitable, even with him insisting that you didn’t need to and that he could just crash in the comfy clothes he wore under his costume. You didn’t have any extra clothes for him, but at least you could give him a pillow and a blanket. As you went to fetch those, you also grabbed your phone from your desk and dropped it next to him on the makeshift bed. He took the liberty of entering his phone number and his real name into your contacts before passing it back.

“No way, you like All Might too?” he asked as you handed him the themed blanket. “This is the same exact blanket I have at home!” A wide grin came over him as he cuddled into it.

His enthusiasm made you laugh a little as you tossed him the pillow. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You started to walk away to your bedroom, and as you were about to turn the lights out, he stopped you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Did you need something?”

He peeked his head over the edge of the couch. “I just realized I never gave you my name. You can call me Izuku, if you want. Since, we’re friends now, and all.”

“Izuku,” you echoed, “I’m really glad I met you.” And you meant it.

“Yeah, me too.” A moment of silence. “That I met you, I mean! I’m glad I met you too!”

You smiled and turned the lights out. “I’m gonna head to bed.” You hesitated a bit to ask him the question burning at the back of your mind, but your anxiety forced you to ask anyway, the fear of not knowing eating at you. “Will you still be here tomorrow morning?”

He answered you right away and gave you a reassuring look. “I’m off work tomorrow, and I don’t have any plans, so I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me to.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Izuku.” 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding for so long, and with that, you made your way to your bedroom and changed into your favorite pajamas. The card that Izuku had given you earlier dropped to the floor while you were changing, and you picked it up carefully before reading it over again. Maybe...it was worth a shot. You had a lot you were dealing with, and the idea that you could talk to someone about it without being judged or made fun of almost sounded too good to be true. Sure, you had Izuku now, but you knew realistically he wasn’t going to be around all the time. You were tired of feeling like you were always alone, tired of feeling everything and nothing all at once, tired in general. It was all so exhausting. And he had said the therapist was nice...

You crawled into bed with your phone and pulled the covers over yourself. The home screen lit up the room as you opened your contacts and scrolled, looking for one name in particular. You tapped on his name and the familiar conversation screen appeared, the little vertical line blinking at you repeatedly as you worked up the courage to type out your message. Finally, your fingers flew across the keys, and you hit send before you could think twice about it.

Y/N: I think I want to schedule an appointment with the therapist. Can you help? 1:34am

It didn’t take long for you to get a response.

Izuku: Of course. I can contact them tomorrow, if you’d like? 1:34am

Y/N: I’d like that a lot. Thank you, Izuku. 1:35am

Izuku: Are you alright? If you need anything, come get me. I won’t mind. 1:35am

Y/N: I really appreciate that. I’m doing a little better. I’ll let you know if I need something. 1:35am

Izuku: Promise? 1:35am

Y/N: I promise. 1:36am

[the-silentium]

In the end

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Words: 1350 words

Warnings: TUA season 2 spoilers, violence.

Requested by: @princess00wifi​

Can I pls request five x reader (they worked in the commission together) where they finally fix the timeline and solve the apocalypse? They can finally just be calm and happy together (maybe five gets that nap he so desperately needs) and it’s just super fluffy🥺👉👈

A/N: YES YOU CAN! I loove when people make request, it gives me more will to write. Thanks for the ask  ❤  Again, Five is an adult!

Gif is not mine, credits to the owner (if it’s you, please let me know) ❤

It took a while to get used to it. For as far as he could remember, he has always been a fighter. Every overwhelming training sessions Sir Hargreeves had forced upon him had prepared him to fight criminals with easy success. His time in the apocalypse made him an expert in survival, while his time at the Commission had perfected his killing skills. At one point, he considered that every cell of his being was made to kill and to kill only. 

This is why lounging in the grass at the feet of a century-old oak was so foreign to Five. At first. 

Your presence helped him ease into his new life. Your carefree spirit mixed with your affection played a great role in soothing his sore muscles, relaxing his mind, calming his murderous tendencies, and thawing his heart of ice. 

When he would snap at one of his siblings for no reason at all, you would get to his side, intertwine your fingers with his and slightly draw shapes on the back of his hands. When he couldn't find the right equation to execute a perfect time jump, causing him to get mad from a headache, you would sit on his lap and massage his skull tenderly with your oh-so-delicate fingers. When he felt like dying under all the pressure of the Commission trying to kill him and his family, the apocalypse menacing to kill all those who were important to him and finding how to stop said apocalypse without a clue on how to do it, you would prepare him one of your special coffee pot, would smile at him and remind him your mantra. Life has an odd way of making things work out in the end. You would then hug him and whisper in his ear that no matter what, you were always there to help and have his back. He never knew why, but all of your simple gestures always managed to appease him. You could do things that would normally infuriate him to no end if another person was to do them, but when it was you… It felt good.

You two had met at the Commission. You were assigned to show him around, evaluate his potential in the different departments and train him in said department. One of your greatest qualities was that you had trained in every department of the Commission, making you very handy when new promising employees were hired. Five has been genuinely surprised when he discovered that your own predilection department was in the field. He never thought that a bubbly and sweet person like you could kill people for a living. You had simply shrugged and hit him square in the face. 

Since he got to know you better. You were incredibly smart and effective. Cheeky and confident. The Commission often praised your work and liked to call you one of their best, although sometimes you would lose track of your briefcases. It was your greatest weakness, one that would never fail to exasperate Five. After losing almost 10 briefcases, the Commission started to put trackers on yours so you could find them at the end of your mission and stop costing them thousands of dollars. 

Five hated to admit it, but he could never have beaten the Commission and restored the timeline without your help. All this time, you were 3 moves ahead of everyone. 

In your time as an Infinite Switchboard Operator, you had discovered that the 2019 apocalypse was an inevitable one. What Number Seven -Vanya- had suffered through her childhood was irreversible and definitive. You had tried different scenarios to prevent the 2019 apocalypse, even one where you killed Sir Reginald Hargreeves, but every one of them led to the same fate. The end of the world. 

Then you decided to let the events of 2019 happen and play with what was next. You saw all the potential in the Hargreeves family and decided to join forces. Seeing that briefcases were the biggest problem in this timeline, you deliberately lost your briefcases in different strategic points in time, where you could easily get to them without the Commission knowing. 

This was how you had saved their asses. You had offered them the lost briefcases before they got the time to meet their father of this timeline. You knew how this meeting affected their own timeline and you were definitely a pro-Umbrella Academy and a con-Sparrow Academy. 

Then with the help of Five who eliminated the previous Commission's board and managed to finally kill the Handler for good, you made sure that the new heads of the corporation were apocalypse-tendencies-free.

"You're pretty deep in that head of yours, uh?" Your amused tone along with your soft fingers combing his hair brang Five back to reality. His gaze found yours and just like every time he did, his heartbeat quickened in his chest. He couldn't be happy enough that he finally found the right maths to time travel to reach a 30 years old body and go back to you as an adult. To his displeasure, you had stopped being touchy with him when he was stuck in his 13-year-old self. 

"You can say that." He moved a strand of hair behind your ear lovingly. They were back in their respective timeline for 3 years now. They had survived the isolation of 2020 together, not that they minded, and lived together since. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, warning the two former assassins that the thunderstorm was finally making its way to them. Five sighed, displeased that you hurried to disentangle yourself from him. A soft rain had started falling, the intensity growing with each minute. 

The old tree offered the perfect protection to the space-time traveler. Not a single droplet reached his clothes or skin, thanks to the thick foliage. From his dry spot, Five chuckled at your antics. You were running under the rain, your arms wide open, completely soaked but happy and serene. 

Another thunder resonated and Five got to his feet. The cold rain hitting his skin and infiltrating his clothes made him tense. He hoped you won't insist too much to stay outside. Now at your side, he got ahold of your hand and tried to pull you with him towards your shared home. As expected, you pulled on your hand to free yourself, but not to avail. Five's grip was of iron, but not hurting. 

"Come on Five! I want to enjoy the rain!" You pouted, joining your hands behind his neck in a slack embrace. His hand never left yours. 

"The thunderstorm is coming. It's unsafe and you'll get sick in all this rain." He tried to reason you. He knew he failed when you smiled in return. 

"But I have my umbrella with me." You chuckled while tracing the umbrella tattoo on his wrist with your fingertips. Five rolled his eyes but kissed your lips nonetheless. He would never admit it to you, but he loved your cheekiness. 

The thunder was getting closer and Five didn't like it one bit. He closed his fists and jumped with you into the house. 

"Party pooper." You pouted. Five rolled his eyes and jumped again, this time landing both of you in the shower. Quickly, he opened the water and chuckled at your surprised scream. "That's cold!" Your body collided with his, the feeling of wet clothes disturbing Five. You reached behind him to adjust the water temperature and soon both your clothes fell to the ground, forgotten until the next day. 

Every day during his 45 years stuck in the apocalypse Five had hated himself for disobeying his father. For 3 years now, he thanks the universe for his stubbornness. 

Every night when you fell asleep in his arms, Five is grateful that despite all he has done, despite his abrasive exterior and despite all the chaos he brang into your life, you still want him. 

Life has a beautiful way of making things work out in the end.

[jackiesjailbreak]

helpless ; ushijima x fem!reader

A/N: so like ,,, remember when i said i had an ushi fic that connected to that would be enough? it’s here! it won’t really connect until like the third chapter, but still. this is pure, pure fluff, so i hope you all like it <3 also okay i know it’s y/n but she lowkey DOES have a personality but it’s not overbearing she’s just like,,,gentle bohemian flower girl i’m SORRY // also thank u to @janellion for beta reading this MWAH

summary: ushijima meets y/n, the girl from his university’s newspaper who he believes is the human personification of a gentle breeze, and his life is turned upside down.

word count: 1.2k

tags (send an ask, comment, or a dm to be added!): @lissa-writes-and-does-matchups @janellion @over5feettall @lavieenblancetnoir @moonnddust @rienin

also tagging the wonderful ushi simp herself, @kuronekomama

I. wonderboy

        Ushijima sees you as sunshine and flowers. He sees you as support and tenderness.

       Your liveliness, your modesty, your kindness; he sees something pure, beautiful, and ultimately, perfect. He’s so lucky to have met you, and he knows it -- especially since he never would have introduced himself in the first place had it not been for you.

        He had noticed you before, the way you would nudge him softly and slide your notebook over to him in class, because god knows he wasn’t paying attention to what was on the board, he was just thinking about the practice he had later that evening. You didn’t even know him, had never talked to him before, but something in your brain told you that the boy next to you was probably going to fail the class if you didn’t intervene. He whispers a low “thank you”, paying attention to your writing, how planned out and meticulous your note-taking was, several different colors adorning the page. If he wasn’t so confused by the odd wave of feelings that rushed over him, Ushijima would say it was cute.

      He only actually talks to you when you come to one of his practices, a camera looped around your neck and notebook tucked under your arm. You tell him you’re Y/N, from your university’s newspaper, and you’d really love to sit in on a few of his practices to take some pictures for a volleyball spread, and maybe an interview, if he’s up for it. 

     Ushijima’s confused at first, his brows furrowing a bit because he doesn’t realize why you’d want an interview with him out of all the people on his team, until he remembers he’s the university’s new rookie ace who everyone’s had their eye on since he was in high school. He nods down at you then, his low voice feeling like it’s rumbling right through you, “Yeah. That’d be fine. Do you want to do it after practice, or?” 

      You smile brightly, then, and Ushijima is very confused as to why it makes the sides of his mouth quirk up too -- maybe it’s because you look more radiant than the sun right now, but he can only process that as a fact, not as a thought of affection.

      “Perfect! Thank you so much -- and, ummm, after practice should be good! Do you mind if we go to the cafe next door? It’s still on campus so it won’t be too much of a walk, but I figured it’d be more comfortable to do an interview somewhere where we can sit down.” He realizes you’re rambling but he doesn’t really mind; he enjoys the company of people who can talk a lot, being a man of few words himself. Instead he simply nods, letting you talk; when he sees how brightly you smile and how animatedly you talk, his brows furrow, looking at you with a sort of bewilderment. He feels the same type of adrenaline-rush-excitement he does before he goes into a game, but he can’t quite understand why -- but before he can figure out why and before you can figure out why he’s looking at you so oddly, his coach is yelling at him to get back to practice. 

       His practice goes by quick, and you get some breathtaking shots of him. When he’s up in the air he looks so graceful but somehow so strong; you snap pictures of him soaring, connecting with the ball to form hits you know could break your arm if they hit you the wrong way. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you watch him through your lens, fighting back the mixed expressions of excitement and awe that threaten to bloom on your face. This feeling, though, unlike with Wakatoshi, isn’t lost on you. You know what it is, because you’ve felt it every time you see him staring off into nothing in class, every time he tilts his head in confusion at his paper or slyly plugs his headphones into his laptop and changes his tab to watch volleyball highlights. You initially chalk it up to admiration about how driven he is, but you know it’s something more when you catch yourself studying the way his hair falls and the way his lips move when he’s mouthing the words of his textbook (he does that often, you note, probably to help him retain information better).

       And yes, you might have jumped at the chance to take on the volleyball spread when your advisor pitched the idea, knowing you’d be able to watch the boy you had only ever had chance interactions with. Yes, you might have said a silent thank you to whatever higher power there was when you realized that he was the ace, a superstar one no doubt, meaning it wouldn’t seem weird for you to single him out for an interview. 

       Yes, your interview goes well with him, and you can’t keep the radiant smile off of your face. He notices how gentle you are when you speak to the waitress about your order, how soft yet somehow firm you speak, how it seems you command the entire room so elegantly in your flowing sundress. Still, though, Ushijima thinks of these as facts -- unchanging, obstinate, and simply true, devoid of any emotional bias. He doesn’t fail to notice, though, how his heart races when you hand him his coffee cup and your fingers brush, or how his mind feels hazy when you speak with that beautiful lilt, or how he suddenly short circuits when you look him directly in the eyes and smile that ridiculously beautiful smile of yours while you bring your mug up to take a sip of your tea. He takes note of all these, but doesn’t quite understand what it is just yet -- he’s really only ever felt these ways before a game, but he’s smart enough to know you’re not the same as volleyball. 

       Soon enough the interview turns into more casual talking -- about your majors, about how you’re much more passionate about your photography and art than your current pre-med track, about how he thinks you should just go for it (because he’s not really used to being in something that isn’t a guaranteed success for him), and about how you can’t really do that, though your soft smile betrays how endearing you think it is that he thinks you could ever succeed in something like that. You manage to pull a bit more words out of him than he was expecting, prompting him to talk about his high school days and how he intends to go pro. 

       You both leave feeling content; you ask for his number, to follow up on some of his answers for clarification and also to arrange a study session, brought on by you giving him a gentle nudge and reminding him that there is a GPA requirement to stay on the volleyball team, wonderboy (he didn’t react badly to the nickname, which both surprises and elates you). While he leaves feeling emotions he’s never truly felt before, you leave with your heart fluttering and eyes gleaming. 

       Because yes, you think you have a huge crush on the wonderboy that is Ushijima Wakatoshi and honestly? You don’t really mind it.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Damijon Secret Santa

@woahjaybird happy holidays ris!!!!!!!!!! i admit, i was a bit confused, bc you signed up for a ship fic exchange and requested platonic bros, but whatever. i hope you like it!

To be honest, it was something Damian said a lot. 

Jon heard those words practically every time Damian opened his mouth: in the middle of a mission, when they were baking pies with Ma Kent, during a stakeout, on a rooftop eating takeout. 

They used to be annoying. God, sometimes Jon just wanted to drop his restraint and punch Damian in the face, full-force. Especially when he said those words, again and again and again. Over time, though, Jon grew used to them, and after a while, they just began to amused him.

You should be afraid of me.

Because Jon never understood those words. What was there to be scared of?

The two of them were sitting on a rooftop in Metropolis, Jon with his long legs dangling over the side of the building, Damian cross-legged next to him. Taking a long slurp of his smoothie, Jon glanced over at Damian, who was outlining their plan of attack for tomorrow-- a mission to take down an arms dealer who had been working out of Metropolis for months. With Dad stretched thin over League, international, and intergalactic affairs, criminals were becoming a little less hesitant to step foot into the city. Superboy and Robin would be taking care of that soon.

Jon was listening, he really was. The battle plans were definitely lodging themselves somewhere in Jon’s subconsciousness. But he had to admit, most of his attention was fixed firmly on Damian himself.

Jon remembered the days the prickly young boy would throw his nose up haughtily in the air, state he’d been intelligent enough to have a doctorate at seven years old, and miff at anyone who insinuated otherwise. It was a far sight from when Damian had  curled himself up on Jon’s bed, and under the guise of watching a movie, told Jon about his acceptance into the most prestigious art schools in Gotham. 

And that was the reason behind Jon’s inattention, wasn’t it? Damian was eighteen, now. Their age difference didn’t seem like much when they were ten and thirteen and going against the world with all the confidence of a couple boys playing pretend. Now, Damian had a weariness in his shoulders, but lips that quirked up into a smile far too often, skin layered in scars but hands gentler than Jon ever thought he was capable of. Jon himself was a fumbling, awkward fifteen year old with jeans that were always too short, hair that was always too messy. And Jon used to think he was over feeling inferior to his best friend.

He’d miss him. Jon would miss Damian so much. Sure, Damian would probably try and keep their visits somewhat consistent, but work would pile up, and a curator would probably see Damian’s talents and whisk him away to the world of the famous artists, and Damian would forget he ever had a friend named Jon and would go on to become a household name while Jon spent the rest of his life living in his parents’ house and updating his mediocre blog that he started because of a dare.

No, he wasn’t being dramatic, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Damian seemed to catch onto his lack of attention and snapped his fingers underneath Jon’s nose, startling him back to focus.

Never one to sugarcoat, Damian said, “You look miserable.”

“What? No, I’m fine!” Jon didn’t know why he even tried to play it off, he’d never been able to lie to Damian.

“Right. My mistake. Someone who was fine would definitely spend the past hour drinking out of a smoothie cup that’s already empty.”

Huh. Jon hadn’t even realized he’d finished the drink. He put it to the side and shook his head. “Really, it’s not a pro-oblem.” Oh, goddamnit.

“Your voice cracks are ridiculous,” Damian informed him. Why had Jon ever thought he’d changed? That smug voice was as irritating as ever.

“Yeah, they’re hilarious, thanks.”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Apparently, this matter was serious enough for Damian to put his map down. Wasn’t that comforting?

But Jon had never liked to keep things from his best friend. “That. That’s what’s bothering me.”

“Your voice cracks?” Now Damian just sounded confused.

“Yes! No, I don’t know. I just don’t like them.” Jon crossed his arms in frustration.

When he looked over at Damian, the other boy’s eyes were wide, and in that stupidly deep and non-cracking voice, he said, “This conversation has gone well past the point of understanding and I’m going to continue with the plan now.”

Jon sighed. “No, Damian, it’s not that.”

“Then?”

Searching for the right words, Jon drummed his fingers together. “You...you’re going off to that fancy art school soon. You’re all grown up. And here I am with my stupid video games and voice cracks.”

Jon wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. Damian could never be called a master of social interaction, and his basic settings were sarcastic, condescending, or incredulous. Still, Jon expected something a bit kinder than:

“You’re such a moron, Jonathan.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Jon stared at Damian for a moment, blinking stupidly. “So I tell you about the problem that’s been eating me up for weeks, and all you say is that I’m a moron? Thank you so much for that.”

“I’m telling you you’re a moron because you’re worrying about something so inconsequential.”

“Oh please, do elaborate.”

Damian paused, then let out a tired sigh, turning to face Jon. This was going to be a serious conversation, then.

“Jonathan. I have told you time and time again. You should be scared of me-”

“Oh my god,” Jon interrupted. “This stuff, again?” He was laughing now. “I know, I know. You should be horrified, cower in terror underneath my ruthlessness, blah blah blah. You say it all the time, I get it. I should be scared of you.”

Damian stared at him. “Are you done?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m tired of you bringing up the same thing over and over, Damian.”

“And in saying that, you just proved my point.”

Jon frowned in confusion. “What?”

“I’ve always said that you should be afraid of me. But you never have been, not since the moment we met.”

“Like there’s anything to be scared of.”

“Yes, Jonathan. There is.” Damian looked Jon in the eye, his gaze sharp and serious.

Damian’s honesty was strange, something Jon wasn’t used to, so he tried to play it off with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, assassin training’s tough-”

“When I was six years old, I murdered a man in front of his daughter.”

Jon fell silent.

“I used to command an entire legion in my grandfather’s army. We completely destroyed and took down three different countries.”

“Damian, I-” 

“Once, Grandfather put me in a straightjacket and wrapped me in chains, surrounded by trained guards, with no instruction other than to escape. And I did.”

Hesitantly, Jon said, “I never knew.”

“Because I never told you. That, and so much more, is why everybody I ever know has been scared of me.”

“Even Nightwing?”

“Nightwing grew out of it eventually,” Damian admitted. “But everyone else. The rest of the bats. Father. Even Mother. There’s fear in their eyes when they look at me.”

“Oh. Uh,” Jon shrugged. “That sucks.”

“That sucks?” Damian said, dry but amused.

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Jon defended.

“See? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve been trying to tell me it sucks? Because I already knew it sucks.”

“Jonathan…” Damian trailed off, then grabbed Jon’s wrists with his own hands.

“Hey!” Jon protested, though only out of surprise. Because Damain’s hands were warm and his thumb was pressing down on Jon’s pulse point and Jon could honestly say he had no objection to this.

Damian’s face showed nothing but piercing intensity: brows furred and eyes locked on Jon’s own. “Jon. Look me in the eyes, and tell me you’re scared of me.”

“But I’m not?”

“I just told you things that would have grown men running away from me in terror. Tell me at least some of that scares you.”

“No,” Jon shook his head and gripped the other’s boy’s wrists back. “No. I’m not scared of you.”

Letting out a breath, Damian moved away. For a moment, Jon found himself chasing that warmth.

“You are the only person who’s ever thought that.” Damian turned, shifting to mirror Jon’s position. Staring out over the city, a billboard washed colours over Damian’s face. He looked like a work of art, and Jon had no idea how anybody could ever fear him.

“You’re my best friend, Damian.” Jon shrugged, despite the fact that Damian couldn’t see him. “I’ve seen you scream at a machine for losing at Cheese Viking. I’ve seen you befriend a little squirrel you found on Ma’s farm. So how exactly am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

Damian nodded, as if that solidified something. “If you really think that I would leave the only person that isn’t scared of me, if you think that I would stop being friends with someone who has always thought of me as a human first and a weapon second just because I’m going to a university, then you are the biggest moron to ever walk the face of the earth.”

Stunned, Jon moved to sit next to Damian. “Oh.”

Jon had always been aware of their height difference, made plenty of jokes about it, but it really struck him how much smaller Damian was when the older boy turned to look up and smile at him. “So stop worrying, okay Kent? It’s unbecoming.”

“Whatever you say,” Jon acquiesced. 

Damian wasn’t leaving for good. Damian, with his burning green eyes and molten beauty, still wanted to be friends with him. 

With a smile on his face, Jon turned to look out at the city, letting the quiet wash over him. At his side, Damian did the same. A huge thank you to @iamwhelmed for organizing the secret santa this year!!

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation  @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow  @iconbicon

[asian-hero]

You are literally the best at writing angst, your fics make me feel some typa way. Can I request a todoroki shoto fic where him and reader are dating and he’s a prohero and she’s a doctor. And shoto is absent a lot bc of work and s/o gets sad bc she feels the relationship is 1sided. They fight bc shoto prioritizes hero-ing, & rder is like “but I save lives too”. They get “close” to splitting, but they makeup somehow. Thank you!!!!!!!

A/N: You think you can get away with breaking my heart just because you complimented me on my writing? 😤 (but in all seriousness, thank you for the compliment!)

You guys know you can request fluffy shit too, right?

Summary: You knew that you and Shouto came from different worlds, and while both of your jobs helped to save people, that didn’t mean that the two of you necessarily saw eye to eye on certain things. One of the things that the two of you never seemed to agree on was your relationship, and you were starting to feel that the two of you would never agree when it came to that.

Words: 3,307

You knew from the start that dating a pro hero wasn’t going to be easy. One day you could wake up next to the love of your life, and then five hours later, you find out that they died while watching the evening news. Or, one day you could find yourself being abducted by villains as a pawn to lure your hero lover into rescuing you, and either become scarred from the trauma of being kidnapped, or be the reason why your partner had fallen. Along with this, the hours for a pro were sporadic and unpredictable, which made it even harder to keep up a healthy relationship. So, it was safe to say that most heroes didn’t usually get into relationships with civilians, and, as a doctor, who had to deal with said heroes, you promised yourself to never get involved with one of them. If not for your physical health, then for your mental health.

Oh, how naive you were.

Somehow, whether it be due to some force in the universe that wanted to prove you wrong, or your own lack of willpower, you not only caught the attention of a certain elemental hero, but he had also caught yours as well. At first, you blamed your flustered state on the fact that he seemed to be one of your most, regular, patients. You tried to fool yourself that you were just simply worried for his health. After all, it wasn’t healthy to be visiting a hospital almost every other week. A few weeks of trying to convince yourself, and you suddenly were faced with the horrendous idea that you may have actually been worried about him because you cared about him, more than you were supposed to. It didn’t help that he was so handsome and sweet. In all honesty, it was truly a marvel that you managed to keep it together for as long as you had.

While you tried to keep your feelings tucked away deep inside of your heart, Shouto seemed to have other plans. On the days that he wasn’t in your hospital, bothering you with some large gash from a villain, or some serious bruises and broken bones from attempting to catch a falling building, he would still make his presence known through vases of flowers addressed specifically to you, as thanks for patching him up. Soon, arrangements of flowers were no longer delivered by the mailman, but instead by Shouto himself. He’d make sure to catch you on your break, or whenever you weren’t busy, just so he could strike up a conversation with you. It was both the most sweet and baffling thing that someone has done for you. Fairly soon after his common visits, the hospital became like his second home, where everyone knew why he was there, and the glamour of having a famous pro hero in their work environment was no longer exciting. 

So, no one could really blame you when you started dating him a few months later. 

Loving Shouto was one of the easiest things that you’ve ever done. Being in love with him came naturally to you, as if it were another part of your body. He was always so kind and caring, and while he did have his moments where his inexperience in terms of relationships truly showed, he always strived to be the best boyfriend that he could be. You knew that Shouto was the one who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, to grow old with. In fact, about a year into your relationship, Shouto had suggested that the two of you move in together, under the guise that you would both be saving a lot of money when it came to water and electricity, since the two of you practically lived together anyways. Not that you needed a reason to move in with him.

However, life wasn’t always that easy, and relationships don’t always turn out the way you thought they would.

After two years of dating Todoroki Shouto, you knew that the two of you would fall into some form of routine. The “honeymoon” phase wasn’t going to last forever, and you were perfectly fine with that. You still loved him dearly, and even though you both didn’t express it nearly as much as you used to, the feelings were still there, at least, on your side of the relationship.

While the two of you began to fall into your normalcy, with you growing comfortable with each other’s company, you found yourself realizing just how absent Shouto was. It started when he’d cancel your little dinner dates at home, saying that you shouldn’t wait up for him, since he’ll be home late. Of course, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, because you knew that his schedule wasn’t always the best, so you never complained to him. Soon, though, instead of missing dinner, Shouto was missing the entire day. It wasn’t very often that you had the day off, so when you did, he promised that he’d be home as well, so the two of you could make up lost time. But, when the time came, you woke up alone in your shared bed, a short note on your bedside table being your only indication that he’d left the house, and that he wouldn’t be home until late at night. Eventually, your shared apartment started to feel as though you were the only one living in it, and the only way that you knew Shouto was still living there was because the leftovers you’d put in the fridge for him would be gone the next morning.

At first, you tried really hard to be understanding. You knew that he couldn’t always be there with you, as he had a job to do. Any annoyance that you held toward him would be instantly replaced by guilt, since you knew that he was busy. However, as the days turned into months, your patience began to grown thin, and you were starting to question whether or not he even loved you anymore. If he did, he certainly never showed it, nor did he seem to feel the need to tell you that he loved you. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time he told you he loved you, or the last time you ever felt loved. At this point, you were just wondering if he even cared if you were around, or if you were just someone who he knew would always be there.

Though you had managed to keep your feelings away from him for a while, it didn’t take long for your heart to no longer be able to carry your sorrows, and soon enough, you found yourself sitting on your couch at one in the morning, balling your eyes out as you waited for Shouto to come home.

Luckily for you, you didn’t need to wait much longer, as you could hear the soft click of the lock, and in a matter of seconds, you found yourself staring down the love of your life, who seemed shocked at the fact that you were still awake.

“(Y/N)?” He called out, concern filling his voice, “Why are you still awake?”

Wiping your eyes, you took in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. “We need to talk,”

Though it was a bit hard to see, with only the light from the kitchen illuminating your apartment, you could make out the tired expression on Shouto’s face. With a soft sigh, he moved toward you, patting your head.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. “Will you even be here in the morning?”

Hearing the edge to your voice seemed to catch his attention, as he tilted his head, clearly confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from the couch in order to meet his eyes. “It’s a simple question, Shouto. You’re not even here when I wake up, so how are we supposed to talk?”

He furrowed his brow, not quite understanding what you were getting at. When he didn’t respond, you let out an obnoxious sigh, all of the anger you’ve been bottling up for the past few months finally rearing its ugly head.

“You know, at first I was fine with you cancelling for dinner. I did my best to understand that you’re a hero, and you have an important job to do,” Your eyes bore into him, almost as if you thought you could convey all of your hurt and anger by just your stare, “But, when you start to become less of a ‘roommate’ and more of a cryptid, that’s where I draw the line.”

“What are you talking about?” You could hear the defensive edge in his voice, and it did nothing to stop the fire from raging in your stomach.

“Do you even remember the last time that the two of us were together? The last time we did something that was remotely romantic? I certainly can’t!” You knew that you were unloading a lot of feelings onto him, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

“Well I’m sorry that I can’t be here all the time, but it’s not like I can just stop what I’m doing just to come home and chat,”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “I’m not asking you to do that!”

“Then what do you want?” He asked, his tone becoming as sharp as a knife, “Do you want me to quit my job? To stop being a hero? I’m not going to stop just because you feel upset. There are actual lives on the line.”

“Do you think that I don’t understand that?” You snapped, your nails digging into the palms of your hands.

“I save lives too, you know! Every single day I go to work and do my best to help out those who need me the most, but you don’t see me neglecting this relationship,”

He scoffed, his lips quirking downwards. “Just because you don’t see the work I put in doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. You knew what my life was like when we started dating, I don’t know why this is surprising,”

“I know what I got myself into! I just wish that I would matter just a fraction as much as your job,”

“You want me to prioritize you over my duty to the people?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I just want to feel like I’m important to you,” You could feel your shoulders deflating, “Why is that so hard to understand?”

The two of you could have fought the entire night and have gone in circles. Instead, Shouto merely took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Can we just talk about this in the morning? It’s late, and I can’t think about this right now.”

All of the fight that was in you had suddenly dissipated, and all you were left with was this hollow feeling in your chest. Shaking your head, you brushed past him, heading towards the guest room.

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to talk about anymore,” You didn’t even bother turning towards him, “Just, do whatever you want.”

With that, you shut the door behind you, locking it and then throwing yourself onto the bed, praying that you’d get at least a couple hours of sleep before your shift.

Unfortunately for you, you ended up getting about two hours of sleep before waking up at six in the morning. Wordlessly, you got ready for work, not bothering to check if Shouto was still home, though, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d just taken off right after you left.

Once you had arrived at the hospital, you were instantly greeted by the concerned stares from your coworkers, with some even voicing that you didn’t look so good. Not wanting to worry anyone, you told them that you were fine, and that you just didn’t get that much sleep last night. It wasn’t a complete lie, and it got them off of your case, so, you figured that you got away with it.

You honestly couldn’t remember what happened during the rest of the day. Bits and pieces would come to you, like when you had to do a routine check-up for one of your favorite patients, or when you took a thirty minute nap during your lunch. Other than that, you truly could not remember what you did. In fact, if your receptionist didn’t tell you that it was nearly eight in the evening, you were sure that you would’ve stayed the night by accident.

As you left your shift and hurried onto the next train to take you home, you couldn’t help but replay the conversation you had with Shouto. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship stood. Neither of you had made the effort to contact the other, and although it had only been one day, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. While of course, you were glad that you told him how you felt, and that you wished he could be more present as a partner, you felt bad about how you went about telling him. There were better ways of telling him that you felt as though he didn’t care anymore, and snapping at him was probably one of the worst ways to go about it. So, as you continued your journey home, you figured that you’d apologize for snapping at him like you did, but you were in no way going to apologize for how you felt, or for telling him that you didn’t feel like a priority for him.

Once the train had reached its destination, and you had finally made it to your front door, you were just about ready to collapse onto the couch. Maybe get in a quick nap before eating dinner, or maybe you’d just head straight towards your bed and get a full eight hours of sleep. However, once the door swung open, rather than being greeted by the deafening silence that you had grown accustomed to, you could hear the soft hum of the radio being played, along with the quiet sizzling of something being cooked. Closing the door gently, you took off your shoes and jacket, quietly making your way towards the kitchen. As you peered from the doorway, you watched in awe as Shouto stood over the oven, watching almost warily at whatever he was making. It was obvious that he had no idea what he was doing, and, judging by how messy your kitchen looked, it was clear to you that this wasn’t his first attempt. Glancing over at the dining table, you noticed the pair of bowls and cups that were set, as if he were setting the table for two.

Deciding that you were tired of just standing there, you cleared your throat, making your presence known.

He jumped a bit, whipping his head towards the source of the noise, before letting out a sound of relief. Quickly turning off the stove, he faced himself towards you, and you could tell that he felt awkward.

“What are you making?” You asked, trying to break the tension in the room.

“Fried rice,” He started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought I could make dinner, it seemed simple enough,”

You hummed, slowly making your way over to him, trying to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t move away, you stepped closer, peering into the pan to look at what he made. While it was slightly overcooked, you appreciated the effort. Motioning toward the table, you spoke, “Go grab the bowls,”

After a few more beats of silence, the two of you found yourselves sitting in front of each other, staring awkwardly at your bowls of fried rice, unsure of what to say. While you really did want to apologize, you weren’t sure of how to approach the topic. You were worried that, if you brought up last night, it’d just end up with the two of you fighting again.

It seemed as thought Shouto had the same idea as you, as he finally spoke up, “I think we should talk about last night,”

Putting down your spoon, you nodded. Glancing up, you noticed the nervous expression on his face, and though you were about to talk about something serious, you couldn’t help but find comfort in the fact that he was just as nervous as you.

“Before we start,” You began, placing your hands in front of yourself, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that I got so angry last night. I was bottling up all of my emotions, and instead of just telling you, I let them get the best of me, and I exploded when I didn’t mean to,”

He frowned, moving to take one of your hands in his own, “I’m sorry that I tried to brush off your feelings and got defensive. I was tired and ready to go to sleep, so when you said you wanted to talk, I just snapped.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a small smile. He returned it almost immediately, holding onto your hand as if you were his anchor. Rubbing his thumb against your knuckles, he gave you a reassuring look.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening last night, but I am now,” He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, “Tell me what’s going on,”

You felt a pang of anxiety rushing through you, but you pushed through. Even though you felt awful saying it, the two of you didn’t fight just for the fun of it.

“I know that being a hero means the world to you, and I’m so proud of what you do. You constantly put yourself in harms way in order to protect those who can’t save themselves, and I admire that,”

He nodded his head, ushering you to continue, “But?”

“But,” You said, trying to choose your words carefully, “I feel like you put so much of yourself into your work that there’s not enough of you left when it comes to our relationship.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I’m not saying that I should be your number one priority, I know that would be too selfish. I’d just like to be in the top five, you know?”

The frown on his face made you rethink your words. Mirroring his features, you squeezed his hand. It took him a minute to respond, letting your words sink in. Once he found his voice, he spoke, “You shouldn’t feel like you have to settle for the top five,”

He got out of his seat, pushing it closer to you before sitting down once more. This time, he took both of your hands in his, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t important to me,”

You shook your head, your nose gently bumping against his. “I know you’re busy,”

“Never too busy when it comes to you,”

You found yourself breaking out into a small grin, laughing a bit. Seeing your relaxed figure, Shouto found himself laughing with you, disconnecting his hands from yours in order to place them on your waist, pulling you closer. As you found yourself practically straddling him, you couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He seemed to relish in your touch, as he leaned closer to you as you pulled away, causing you to let out another stream of giggles.

While the two of you still had to figure out how to manage your schedules, you were finally filled with a sense of comfort and love, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

[horrorslashergirl]

The Lurking One: A Shadow Horror Story

Authors Note: Decided to write a story for my newest Slasher OC, Shadow. People seem to really like him, despite him not having a face claim. lol

Warning: 18+ for horror, gore and torture, plus add in trauma

Words: 2.4k words

It was one of these late at night study sessions for the ones that slacked during the year and had to catch up with what they lost; Giula was one of them and she cursed herself for letting her time be filled with sorority activities and parties.

The Northeastern University campus was empty save for the security guard; Guila being the only student who was currently in the library catching up to a project that was due to tomorrow. She could have done it back at the sorority house, but she knew the girls would distract her and tempt her with other activities such as preparing for a college festival that was in two weeks.

Her grades were more important than social activities that would print into her status, not to mention her parents who had a talk with her about the fact that college wasn't a gateway for drinking and hooking up with guys.

Guila sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, checking the old antique clock of the library.

10:35 PM

Her gaze moved back to the tons of files and books on the wood desk she was sat at. She just finished the project, but she needed to revise it to make sure everything was perfectly done. The grade for this project was important and she wasn't looking for another discussion with her parents and the headmaster.

She will look it over in the morning; she needed to be fresh tomorrow for the presentation and looking like a crackhead in front of the judges wasn't a pro in the book. Putting everything back into her bag neatly, she pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail, letting her auburn locks fall freely down her back, almost to the hips.

Walking out of the library and locking the door; thank God the old library lady was a sweetheart and left the keys for her to close. She walked down the hallways and taking the old victorian ascensor to the low floor. Before she could exit the building she stopped by the cubicle of the security guard, handing him the keys.

"All done for tonight, dear?" Arthur asked, taking the keys and setting them on his desk.

"Well, finally so. I will have to own Mrs. Hariot for leading me the keys to the library." Giula told the old man with a smile.

"Ahhh...She's an angel among here. Trust me, it was her pleasure." he old the girl, sitting back down at his desk, a copy of  Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen was on the desk.

"Have a good night without incidents, Sir." Giula told the gentleman guard who nodded.

"Nothing ever happens around here. Kids nowadays don't read books anymore, so I don't think someone will try to break into the library." Arthur joked, making Giulia giggle and nod, although feeling a little by what he said.

"I suppose so. Good night." the girl waved off, stalking towards the exit.

"Likewise, dear!" Arthur called after her, going back to the classic novel.

As she opened the door, a chilly air hit Giulia in the face, making her wrap her arms around herself. It was definitely colder than when she got in the morning here. It was earlier spring, the days warm, but the nights reminding that the winter just recently moved away.

She was wearing a white button-down with dark blue jeans and some ballet flats that made her legs all shaky; her light brown cardigan not helping at all. She couldn't wait to get back to the sorority house and bask in the warmness of her bed and away from the coldness of the night.

It was just a 20 minutes long time walk to the house, but it seemed like much more to her now that she was all alone and shivering like a hairless cat.

Mentally, she cursed her parents for not letting her drive, always scolding her that she wasn't ready. Overly protective parents and their old school mentality always made Giulia feel like she was still a baby. She was 22 and in the second year of college for Christ's sake.

She couldn't wait to finish college and get a job; Oh the dream of having her own apartment and not having to deal with doll-like girls who owned Porches all because of their wealthy daddies. Now thinking more about it, she was the only one who didn't have an overly rich family; maybe the girls kept her because she was the only one who was first to clean a mess, make breakfast when the others were hungover.

The streets were all deserted, none was outside, most people here being locals since birth or college students who basked in cheap beer and gossips at this hour.

This neighbor that gave off hostel-like vibes made her skin be covered in goosebumps, smelling a faint scent of weed, beer and hearing the music blasting from the apartments above. The police wouldn't come to stop the noise, since there was none to be bothered by the hypnotic beat.

Guila could feel eyes on her, but every time she turned around to take a look there was none, just the slight wet streets and alleyways that adored this place. Each time she passed one, she would halt her walking, afraid two big clawed hands will brisk her away into darkness.

She rolled her eyes as a guy from above cat-called her, probably drunk off his ass, and his girlfriend a few feet away from him at the window making out with his best friend.

Boston really was filled up with these types of students, getting great opportunities and throwing said blessing out the window because of blinding hormones, and the idea of being young means I'm indestructible.

'Just 10 more minutes and you will be home.' Giulia thought to herself, but it quickly went off the window as pain shot through her scalp, before she knew it she was dragged into the darkness of an alleyway.

One strong arm wrapped around the middle section of her waist, but the other moved to her neck, feeling the prickle of something cold against her neck; a blade, a knife, something that was indeed sharp.

"Scream and you can say arrivederci to your precious vocal cords." the person that held her spoke, voice raspy and very eerie, definitely a male.

"P-Please...Don't kill me." Giulia whispered, afraid that if she raises her voice too much, he won't keep on his promises.

"Shush now. I heard that line all too many times and it gets very monotonous." the man spoke right by her ear, running what she assumed was a scalpel over her cut, not slitting her throat, but surely making a small cut to show that he wasn't playing games.

She was panicking, her breathing getting more on the hysterical edge, then she did the first thing she could think of. She kicked him in one of his shins, making him groan, but he didn't back off. He did throw her in the opposite direction of the alleyway against the brick wall. Giulia grunted and whimpered as she hit the ground right into a puddle.

Her hazel eyes looked up and she felt terror strick her as he stalked over to her wet and bruised form, like a panther ready to pounce on its prey. She could scream, but the music from the apartments above was so loud she wouldn't have a chance in someone hearing her.

One cold leather-gloved hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her back into the wall, showing so much strength that got her the image of him snapping her tiny neck like a twig.

"That was some dirty move you put up there, little wench. Although I am a very patient man." he whispered, and now that he was in front of her, she could make out what he looked like.

He was wearing all black, probably a very expensive tailored suit with a scarlet red tie, not even a glimpse of skin was shown. What really caught her attention was his vintage-looking fedora and the creepy raven like a mask. 

A doctor purge mask? She heard of them from her brother who was very into history.

"W-Who are you?" Giulia choked, his hand tightening around her throat at the question.

He hummed like he was deep in thought.

"I think the public eye has birthed me as the Shadow." he answered her question.

It took only a few seconds for Giulias eyes to widen and her body to tremble. She heard on the news about him; the unknown brutal killer, never seen, none to survive to tell the story and how they described his murderers on television.

The killer known now as Shadow chuckled at her horrified face.

"Ahhhh....So you heard of me. Good. I hate to explain information to someone who cannot even work their brain enough to avoid someone dangerous." he mused, making the young woman whimper and cry, then she began to swing her legs in an attempt to hurt him.

Only for her head to be slammed multiple times against the brick wall until her vision blacked and she fell on the dirty ground by the pristine black Oxfords he was sporting.

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

The lightbulb above flickered to life and Giulia opened her eyes, looking around like a desperate animal caged, or more like chained by her neck, a metal collar digging into the skin of her neck and creating red and purple marks.

Her doe-like eyes looking around and stopped on the black-clad figure.

The Shadow.

"Ahh...I'm glad you're awake. I might think I hit your head too many times on the brick wall. I usually prefer drugging my victims, but you were acting like too much of a mindless animal." he began to spoke so fluently, calm, like everything that was going on was a normal occurrence for him; like discussing the weather over a few drinks.

The man was laying some tools neatly on a metal table; surgical tools, like scalpels, forceps, scissors, retractors, and clamps. Giulia felt a bile form in her throat, starting to tug on the heavy chain that was bounded against the concrete wall; no luck.

"Let m go, you fucker!" she screamed and in an instant, her back meet the cold wall, gloved hand grasping her jaw tightly as the leather beak of the mask brushed against her face.

"You smell putrid, although there is that faint strawberry scent of your perfume." he commented, fingertips digging more into her jaw and making her whimper and sob.

In his free hand, he held a pair of surgical retractors and her eyes widened when he forced her mouth open, one finger pulling her upper lip to expose her pearly white teeth and pink gums.

"You have a nice set of teeth there. I adore your canines especially." he whispered, then he grasped one of her canines with the retractor, tugging on it and forcing a pain-filled scream from Giulia; the next twin teeth following. 

Her tears filled eyes looking as he held both canines between black covered fingers.

"Very impeccable indeed." he murmured, going back to the table.

The metallic taste of blood and sterisol filled her mouth, scarlet dripping down her chin.

She knew this was far from over as his thumb run over the shiny scalpel.

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

Giulia didn't know how much time has flown; one month, maybe two? She hadn't seen the light of the day in so long and she wished dead would overcome her.

She was in so much pain; the things Shadow did to her. First the canines, then her fingernails went off and when she spat on his mask she thought she was going to die as he poured acidic fluid down her scalp; her beautiful long hair was just a burned memory.

Dead was supposed to come, but the sadist treated her wounds like an expert at the hospital, only to remind her that death was far away from her.

Then the begging, telling him what she will do anything, even getting on her knees and possibly giving him new ideas. His words were absolute humiliation.

"I know what you're implying, ignorant wench." he told her as his gloved hands were running down her naked hips, then he left her.

"I'm not a rapist, darling. Never found any fascination with taking someone against their own will in that way. I prefer my slave to be willing, but you're not. So I advise next time you keep these sick fantasies to yourself." he told her, mocking and making her feel even more stupid.

She caught glimpses of him doing awful things to the other girls; one of them skinned alive and every muscle on full display.

"You're just too perfect, aren't you?" he told Giulia, making her a confused mess.

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

She did manage to trick him when he was busy piercing her earlobes multiple types, having to bite her tongue as she stole the keys to her chains.

Then when he found her moving down the hallways; she almost got her leg blown off when he used a shotgun after her. She had opened the door to the exit and was meet with the night. Running through the forest, looking behind her over and over.

Her luck was finally getting to the principal road and a car passed by, getting in, and again she was in danger. The old man tried to rape her, but she was brave enough to jump out of the car when they were in town.

After 30 minutes of limping around the streets, she finally spotted a police car that was patrolling.

Interrogations followed, but she always spoke the same words, too traumatized by the events.

'He is tall and in all black. He doesn't seem human. No human could do this. He pulled all her skin off like she was a rabbit. His voice, makes me wanna throw up, it's so raspy it makes me wanna be deaf so I cannot hear it anymore in my head. What he did to the other girls...I cannot describe. He said that I'm perfect. What was that supposed to mean?'

Her parents were devasted when they found out about everything that happened and her mother fell on her knees crying over and over when she finally saw Giulia face to face.

The worst was that she could no longer be let on her own; nightmares, voices, aggressive outbursts, and feeling like she was constantly followed. She was scared of her own shadow.

When the police found the whereabouts of where Giulia was held everything was gone, not even a spot of blood like there was none there in the first place.

Why clean it all up if Shadow wanted the bodies to be found in the first place?

Needless to say...Nights in Boston weren't safe anymore.

[petri808]

Paid By the Heart

Bakudeku, A!Bakugou/O!quirkless Midoriya.  Growing up Midoriya was picked on and bullied, harassed by the other sexes. In desperation he turns to the only Alpha he knows, begging for help. They reach a deal for the little Omega to use the Alpha's scent to keep the other's at bay... but was that really a good idea? Intermingling their scents for years had a consequence that left them only one option.

The life of a quirkless person in their world was a sad one, but couple that with being a small Omega; double whammy. Ever since that fateful doctors visit informing his mother, he’d never have a quirk, Midoriya Izuku was shunned at school, even bullied for being a small, gangly nerd. He was easy pickings and there was nothing he could do about it.

By the time he’d hit middle school, life was a lonely existence for the young man. His solace was in books or chronicling the exploits of his favorite hero All Might. For outside of that little bubble, pain and frustration was the norm. If only he’d been born an Alpha or at least a Beta, maybe then he’d gain a small measure of respect, quirkless or not. But no, the universe decided, he was to be an Omega, the lowest of the ranks. Could things get any worse?

The answer was yes. When he wasn’t being bullied, he was being harassed. Horny teen Alpha’s really were a bane of his existence. This lot didn’t care who or what he was, only interested in the scent he gave off. At least going into heat was still a few years away, because that could lead to bigger problems.

Sometimes things got so bad in school, Midoriya would hide in teachers classes or the nurses room until finally one called his mother about it and she promptly put him on scent inhibitors. He’d been too embarrassed to tell her what was going on. At least now he gained a small reprieve, but that didn’t stop the bullying. What could he do?

Midoriya racked his brain to come up with a solution, including quitting school altogether. Not ideal, no, considering learning was one of the few things he actually did enjoy. That’s when he realized, if only he had someone to protect him. Like a bodyguard. But who would be willing to help a small omega? He didn’t have any real friends that were Alpha’s or at least bigger Omega’s. Though he did know one Alpha…

Nah, Bakugou would never willingly help him. Despite growing up around each other, once he was deemed quirkless, the boy shunned him completely. They were complete opposites in personality; him being shy and Bakugou a bastion of anger.

No one dared to mess with Bakugou Katsuki, least get an explosion to the face.

But desperate times, called for desperate measures and Midoriya was tired of the split lips, black eyes, or torn clothing. He didn’t want to be shoved and messed with anymore and the one Alpha, despite their rocky relationship, who didn’t pick on him physically, was Bakugou. So, one day after school and a particularly egregious fight, Midoriya waited at the foot of the staircase of their apartment building. He lived on one floor and the blonde Alpha lived on another. As he waited, thoughts of what he should say worked their way through this analytical mind.

The man wasn’t going to do this willingly, that was a given. Bakugou’s main focus in life has always been power. To get to the top someday as a hero like their idol All Might. Maybe that’s a potential answer, play to the man’s desire to protect. Frankly, Midoriya wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had an alternative. He’ll pay the man to be his bodyguard. Not that he could afford much, but if it took getting a part time job or something, it beat getting assaulted.

He stands up from the step the moment he smells the Alpha coming. ‘Breathe, Izuku, stay calm…’

“Outta my way nerd!”

Midoriya swallows hard, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. “K-Kacchan, I need to talk to you— ask you a-about something.”

“The answer’s no.” The man starts to push past the smaller male. But Midoriya grabs his arm to stop him. He whips around, grabbing the hand on his arm and throwing it off. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Please, Kacchan!” Midoriya grovels with tears streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t take all the bullying anymore.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes. “Nothing I can help you with nerd, now get out of my way before I do hurt you.”

Midoriya drops to his knees with his head hung down. “Kacchan…” He looks up now with sullen eyes, sad and forlorn. “I-I—will you please protect me?!”

“Argh!!!” Bakugou growls. This stupid Omegas scent was filled with such desperation it was rattling his senses! “Deku what the fuck makes you think I’d help you?!”

His shoulders slump further. “I know you have no incentive to help me. I’m just a worthless quirkless Omega. But I’m desperate Kacchan. I have no one else to turn to and I’m willing to pay with whatever I can afford.”

“I don’t want your money idiot.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!”

Fuck!! No matter how much the little freckle-faced mouse irritated him, he could never lash out except with words. Bakugou knew exactly why the man was so desperate, saw him picked on by the other sexes. The fresh cut above the man’s eye and torn shirt was evidence enough, but laying a hand on Midoriya, he just couldn’t do it. Plus, he believed his mother would kill him.

“Ugh!” He groans and snaps. “Fine! But you are gonna pay somehow. You’ll cover my lunches at school for starters and… I don’t fucking know, but I’ll think of something. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, thank you Kacchan!” In his elation, Midoriya jumps onto and hugs the larger male, snuggling his face into the man’s neck.

A flush of heat colors Bakugou’s cheeks. “Oi! Oi!” He peels the man off. “Get the fuck off me nerd!” Too close! Too close! Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Midoriya’s earthy scent pleased his inner Alpha and in his happiness that scent exploded.

“S-Sorry, Sorry!” He bows and takes a step back. “Thank you, you saved my life Kacchan.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck you want.” He crosses his arms. “I ain’t just gonna beat people up for you unless I really need to.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he waves his hands, “no, I wouldn’t ask you to! I hope that just being around you, or,” his face heats up, “like your presence and scent on me will deter them. And eventually they’ll just stay away out of fear.”

Unlike a lot of the Alphas their age, Bakugou had no desire to engage in primally driven acts. In fact, those types pissed him off too. Just mindless idiots as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t about to let stupid mating instincts distract him from his goals. “So basically, a fake relationship?” His lack of giving a damn about such trivial matters made it easy for him not to care. “As long as I don’t gotta be affectionate and shit.”

“R-Right!” Just the thought of intimacy made Midoriya bloom red. “Yes, nothing like that. Just the illusion of being your property.”

“Ha! I kinda like the sound of that!” Bakugou finally smiles, though more like an evil smirk. “You’ll be my bitch from now on!”

And so that’s how it was for the next few years. Each morning before school, the Omega would swipe a bit of sweat off the Alpha and rubbed it on himself. With the man’s scent on him, all the other Alphas and bullies stayed clear. They never eluded to any relationship, barely even hung out together, but everyone was too afraid to question it. Midoriya quietly went through the school days and for the first time in a very long time, he could finally relax. Even though his life was still lonely.

Once they finished middle school, Bakugou moved on to the prestigious UA Academy for pro heroes in training, while Deku managed to get into their Support program. Turns out his passion for learning and analytics was a skill he could trade on. Since they’d be at the same school, they could keep up the same rouse. Not that Bakugou seemed to care. Though the trade off for his part of the deal had perks with the Omega still footing any request he made.

Things continued unabated for the first two years of high school and Bakugou didn’t pay attention to the subtle changes taking place. Midoriya still dutifully came for his scent every morning before class. The Omega continued to pay for his services. But he failed to notice a change in the Omega’s scent. Where once the smaller male reeked of sadness, now there were hints of elation. The man smiled brighter and even had a bounce to his step. Midoriya was blossoming in the Support program. He had friends to call his own and Bakugou couldn’t be more thrilled the guy wasn’t trying to hang around him anymore.

It wasn’t until the third year was halfway through when the changes became glaringly noticeable. Midoriya continued to pay, but gathering his scent had grown from sporadic to nonexistent. Perhaps he wasn’t in need of Bakugou’s help anymore? No one was bullying him, on the contrary, the Omega was a top student in his program who’d gained the respect of his peers.

Bakugou corners the man outside one day between the dorm buildings. “Oi, Deku, what’s the deal? You don’t need me anymore?” He refused to admit it bothered him to not be needed.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep paying me, but never come for my scent.”

“Oh… well, you see, now that I’ve found my place here, it’s, um, hurting my reputation that I smell like an Alpha. I still pay because I do appreciate everything you did for me Kaachan.”

“What the fuck? You getting all horny now, looking for action but nobody giving you that kind of attention?”

“What?! N-No!” He waves his hands desperate to wipe the statement away. “That’s not it, I’m not looking for that! I’m even on Heat blockers. It’s just, the Alpha’s they treat me differently. They’ll talk to me like they respect me but always at an arms distance and it’s frustrating. Even after a few months without your scent on me, they still keep a distance.”

It was driving Midoriya crazy! So, he started to question, what will happen when he does want to be courted by an Alpha?! What helped in his youth now backfired and the plans were blowing up in his face. The reputation of Bakugou having staked his claim years ago on the Omega would make finding a partner almost impossible unless he could find a way to distance himself. Who in their right mind would dare touch the Lord of Explosions chosen mate?!

“I hope once we graduate and go our separate ways, people will finally realize we’re not together.” Midoriya was sure that once the blonde settled into pro hero life, he’d start dating as well, and that’ll take the heat of his back.

“Tch, well I’m not a charity case, so stop paying me if you ain’t getting a benefit out of it. Guess that’s it.” Bakugou’s turns his back to the man and starts walking away. He tips two fingers, “see ya around nerd!”

Huh? Well that went easier than he’d expected it to. All this time avoiding the conversation only for Bakugou to have no real reaction. Guess this really was just a business transaction for the Alpha. Midoriya shrugs, so be it, and continues on his way.

Unfortunately, things weren’t all that it appeared to be for the Alpha. After walking away from the Omega, a dull pain centered in his chest making it a little hard to breathe. But not wanting to show weakness, Bakugou ignored it and continued to strut back to his dorm room. Perhaps he’d overexerted himself again in the gym.

It’s a pain that started a couple of months ago that came and went, that he equated as simply working too hard. His muscles are still adjusting to the heavy schoolwork on top of the skirmishes the students got pulled into. That had to be the answer, for what else could it be? But after a week of the pain not letting up, Bakugou finally relented and consulted the nurse.

“Well,” the nurse, Recovery Girl sits back on her stool. “Don’t know what to tell ya, cause they ain’t nothin physically wrong with you that I can find. But if you think it’s muscle related, ease up on your workouts and take magnesium supplements.”

“The fuck you sayin old hag?! I can’t stop exercising. My quirk demands a topnotch body!”

She shrugs her shoulders, used to the hotheaded Alpha by now. “Then just learn to live with the pain. It’s not uncommon from pro heroes to suffer from pain, especially those with strong quirks like you have. You’re kinda young, but with how hard you push yourself, it’s inevitable.”

“Argh!” Bakugou storms out of the room. Fucking useless old bat! Two months away from graduation and being told he’s already developing, what, an old person’s problem?! “Fucking hell!” This is bullshit!

He flies it out of the room so quickly, that when he rounds a corner in the hallway, runs smack into a body. “Get the fuck outta my way!!”

“Kacchan?! Oh my god, sorry I didn’t see you coming!”

The world stops cold. “Deku…” suddenly the pain in his chest lessens as the calming scent of the concerned Omega wraps around his body. Bakugou’s eyes flash wide. “Oh, fuck no!” Quick like a bolt of lightning, the Alpha races away leaving the shocked and confused Omega standing there alone calling after him. Bakugou grits his teeth as he beelines it back to his dorm room. ‘It’s just a coincidence!’

“What was that all about?” Midoriya mumbles under his breath. It was the first time he’s seen the Alpha look, scared? No way, the Omega dismisses the notion. Bakugou wasn’t afraid of anything. He must have just been surprised to see him.

He continues on to the lab where he’s close to finishing a new project. The Alpha, Shouto Todoroki, requested a better cooling material for his suit. The pro needed something that insulated the cold from his quirk for a longer lasting effect. That way Hellfire would also be more sustainable.

It was a major nod to the Omega considering the man was up and up against Bakugou in terms of power. Currently, they were the top two pro students and Alpha’s of UA. Plus, Todoroki was not only cute but the complete opposite of Bakugou in personality. He was always kind to the Omega. Not that anything was going on between them! But the minor attention was exactly what triggered him to back away from his old friend.

From that moment in the hallway on, every time Midoriya came into contact with Bakugou, the Alpha turned heel and avoided any interactions. He couldn’t lie that it didn’t hurt just a little. They’d never been the closest friends, but it was as if the blonde was angry with him and that bothered him because he couldn’t understand why? But he also wasn’t gutsy enough to question the man either. Did turning down his scent hurt Bakugou’s pride or ego? Frankly, that would not be surprising.

The day of their graduation was a whirlwind of activity. The stadium packed just like the Sport event; even a similar turn out. Family and friends were there to celebrate, pro’s and companies were there to recruit. First the Support class, then the General studies, and lastly the Heroes courses all went up and received their diplomas. After the ceremony, the students were sent to designated spots to meet with their families and friends first. From there they could venture around to see other people.

“Thanks mom,” Midoriya hugs the crying woman for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

“I’m just so proud of you son!”

A tap on his shoulder cuts into the tender moment. “Forgive me for intruding Mrs. Midoriya. My father would like to meet your son.”

The pair’s eyes widen as the Number One hero stood in front of them. He was such an imposing figure!

“N-Nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor!” Midoriya bows.

“My son tells me you were able to create a better suit for him.”

Midoriya looks to his friend then back to the man. “Yes, sir I did.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ll be very useful in the future.” Endeavor nods his head and simply walks away without another word.

“D-Did he just?!”

“My father would like me to bring you by the agency next week for an interview.”

“Oh, wow really?!”

“Yes,” Todoroki chuckles.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss things,” Mrs. Midoriya cuts in. “It was nice to meet you Todoroki.”

After the goodbyes, the two men continue discussing the interview. Things like what he should bring, how he should dress, and what time to arrive. Midoriya had assumed Endeavor contracted out support work, but it turns out they have in-house staff.

“There is one last thing I would like to discuss.” The Alpha takes hold of the Omegas hand. “You see I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he leans down, sniffing at the scent gland of the smaller males neck. “Your scent…” his voice grows soft like a purr, “I wish to court you properly Midoriya Izuku.”

“W-What?”

“WHAT!?!!”

The feral growl behind him causes Midoriya to flinch. Before he can register just what the hell was going on, he was pushed back and a second Alpha stood between him and Todoroki.

“K-Kacchan?!” He grabs the man’s arm. “Kacchan what are you doing?!”

But the larger male simply grabs hold of him and pushes him back again, all while staring down the other Alpha.

“This mouse is taken,” Bakugou growls low and narrows his eyes, challenging Todoroki.

Todoroki glares back unflinching. “You don’t care about him, only took his money for protection. That doesn’t make him yours Katsuki.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“You don’t,” the man grins. “Three years I watched from a distance. How he’d sneak into the dorms in the morning, pay for your lunch in the cafeteria, and for what? We could smell you on him yet not once did you two ever hang out with each other.”

“S-So what! That doesn’t mean I don’t care about him! I took the protector role to fucking protect him!”

Todoroki scoffs, “I bided my time and once the daily visits ended, I started making my move. Not once did you ever stop us because you ran away from him! Stupid fool, how dare you decide to claim him now!”

Bakugou lowers his head just slightly, fists clench, and tiny explosions going off in his palms. “Fucking icyhot bastard. You don’t know what I’m feeling. Think I don’t know I fucked up when I shoulda faced the music sooner.” He stares straight up. “But I do know now, Deku’s mine! Hear me?! Mine!! And I am not fucking giving up my mate to you or any other bastard!”

The blonde pulls Midoriya forward, hands gripped to his arms. “Tell him Deku! Tell him you’re mine!”

“But am I? You’ve never shown any interest in me before Kacchan. Todoroki has helped me so much and now because of him, I’ll be interviewing for Endeavors support staff. Yes, your scent protected me from bullies, but I thought it was always just a business transaction.”

“N-no!” Bakugou staggers back clutching to his chest as the pain swiftly doubles. This can’t be happening! “You can’t pick him over me Deku!” The sting of rejection was worse than a villain breaking every bone in his body. He cries out and drops to the ground in a fetal position as the pain rips through his chest and knocks the wind out of him. “Fuck it hurts!” It was too excruciating, so much so, his body was slipping out of consciousness in response.

“Kacchan?!” Midoriya falls to his knees too and grabs the man, shaking him. “Kacchan, what’s wrong with you?!” He felt helpless as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Wow Katsuki… you really do love Midoriya.”

The Omega looks up at Todoroki. “How do you know that?!”

Todoroki points at Bakugou. “If an Alpha covets an Omega but is rebuffed, they are stricken with illness. It only happens when we truly love someone.”

“S-So if I turn you down, you’ll get sick too?!” Why is this whole love stuff so cruel?! This was not what he’d expected to happen! Tears gather in his eyes. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I-I just wanted to know what he really thought about me.”

“Fret not,” Todoroki smiles at him. “You’re cute, but I’m not in love with you. But now that you have your answer, my role is done. I’ll see you at the interview next week,” he winks and walks away to find his girlfriend.

“O-Okay, thank you Todoroki!” Midoriya turns back to the comatose man by his side and continues shaking him. “Kacchan! Please wake up! I’m here! I’m not going anywhere! Just wake up!”

A small crowd gathered around them, but he didn’t care, too concerned with Bakugou’s condition. Had he known an Alpha could suffer like this, he never would have attempted this little rouse. Todoroki was the one who suggested it, but neither of them could have known the blonde had fallen so deeply in love.

With the help of Bakugou’s teacher, Shota Aizawa and another staff member who came on the scene, they take the unconscious Alpha to the infirmary. They place him on one of the beds where Recover Girl checks him over. The man was out cold, but his vitals were steady.

Midoriya takes a seat by the bedside, clutching to his friends hand. It’s been an hour since they’d arrived and according to the nurse, it was now a waiting game. “Please,” the Omega squeezes the Alpha’s hand, “come back to me Kacchan…” He closes his eyes to rest them, laying his head against the man’s arm. He was so emotionally exhausted from the ordeal of the day, but he’s not moving until the man wakes up. Six years and never once he allowed himself to hope, until now.

“Mmmm,” Midoriya stirs at the feeling of fingers treading softly through his hair. “That feels so nice,” he purrs to the familiar scent of burnt sugar he’d come to know so well. It wrapped around, calming, calling the Omega out of his dream.  

Wait! Burnt sugar?! He pops up immediately, “Kacchan?!” Scrambling onto the bed and swaddling the Alpha. “I was so worried,” Midoriya buries his face in the man’s neck. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!” He sniffles.

Bakugou wraps his arms around the man, leaning his head against his and relishing in the contented tones exuding from the Omega’s scent. “I’m up now, so stop crying Deku.” He sighs, “and I didn’t tell you cause I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes,” he lifts Midoriya’s face, fixing his eyes in a stare, “I am. All because I didn’t want to admit I was weak for you.”

“So, you really mean it? That you want me to be your mate even though I’m quirkless?”

“Did I fucking stutter? But guess what Deku?”

“What?”

The Alpha kisses him roughly, nipping his lip before pulling away, “I’m claiming my final payment.”

“Oh!” Midoriya giggles, “what’s the payment?”

“You.”

~~~XX~~~

Just because they finally figured things out, didn’t mean either of them wanted to rush into a relationship. It was simply satisfying to know they wanted to be with each other. And for that reason, Midoriya continued to use heat blockers as a birth control, just like he’d done for the last several years.

The Omega respected the fact Bakugou focused on having a good career in the pro hero world. His ambitions to reach the top given a whole new incentive in order to provide for a family one day. But the Alpha was proud of his betrothed’s advances as well. After high school, the up and coming Support technician proved his worth for the Endeavor agency while he himself worked as a side kick to the head man himself.

Bakugou dreamed of one day owning his own agency, but until then, he pushed himself hard under the constant tutelage of the number one hero. They were both paid well at their jobs, and continued to maintain separate homes… for now. The blondes excuse being he would court Midoriya properly this time around.

Except when it came to sex. That part of their relationship was consummated two nights after graduation. In a protected knotting, they marked each other and staked their claims for all to see. Bakugou  had been pleasantly surprised to find the shy, docile man was quite rambunctious in bed. But contrary to popular belief, it was closer to a vanilla encounter.

Both of them had been too excited and also nervous being a first time for either of them. Having been Midoriya’s protector for so long, the Alpha was almost terrified of hurting the smaller Omega and it took gentle coaxing to allay those fears. But in the end they’d been left satisfied and fully affirmed in their decision to spend the rest of their lives together.

Once the workload kicked in, any free time they had were spent together at one or the others apartment. Bakugou would take Midoriya out on dates, to dinners, movies, or anywhere the man fancied though it was rarely a lavish affair. The Omega preferred the quieter moments such as lounging on the couch and cuddling during a movie.

This went on for two years as the Alpha slowly built up a savings. He knew it would be several years before he could buy a bigger house, but soon enough he was ready to afford a 2 bedroom apartment in a nice area of town. So, he made up an excuse to stay with Midoriya while he moved into the new place, furnished, and prepared it to accept a mate.

“Perfect!” The blonde stands with his hands on his hips admiring his handiwork. Everything his Omega will need was purchased and set up in what will be their new nest. He’d spared no expense on a top of the line, plush, memory foam bedding. Extra blankets, pillows, you name it, Bakugou bought it. And last but not least, he scented all the fabrics with his musk. All that remained was surprising Midoriya.

He timed the reveal for the last week of the month, explaining his apartment was ready again and he wanted Midoriya to see the changes.

“Where are we going? This isn’t the direction of your place.”

“It’s the direction to my new place.”

“Kacchan, you moved apartments without telling me?”

He kisses the back of the Omegas hand, “well a surprise isn’t a surprise if I told you about it.”

When the elevator opens, Bakugou leads him to one of the apartments. He opens the door and gestures for the man to enter. “Welcome to your new home Izuku.”

“Huh? My, but I have an apartment…” the Omega gasps when he turns and finds his Alpha on one knee. “K-Kacchan,” his hands fly up in shock and face lights up.

“It’s time to officially cash in my payment chip,” the blonde grins, holding up a ring. “Izuku Midoriya, will you be my life mate?”

Moisture instantly builds in the Omegas eyes, “yes! Yes!” His hands shaky as the Alpha slips the ring onto his finger.

Bakugou gets to his feet and kisses the man slow and steady. He takes Midoriya’s hand. “There’s one thing I really wanna show you, then we’ll go pack up your apartment.”

“Oh my goodness!” The omega squeals at the site of his beautiful new nest and throws himself onto his Alpha, hugging and kissing the man. “Kacchan, you spoil me!”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he smiles back. “Test it out.”

Midoriya dives onto the bed and bundles the blankets to his nose. It smelled like Bakugou! He closes his eyes with a moan, taking it all in and burying his face into the fabric. The Alpha laughs at how childlike his mate was behaving, but that was Midoriya for you. Just a ray of sunshine who wore his emotions on his sleeve.

While the Omega relishes in his new surroundings, Bakugou just stands back in admiration. To the outside world the pro Alpha hero was a temperamental hothead who took shit from no one. But those in the know, knew Midoriya had him wrapped around his finger.

The Omega never took advantage or made it feel like an obligation. Bakugou just came to realize he could be himself with the man. No keeping secrets or holding back. Their long history delving back almost two decades meant Midoriya knew him well and he Midoriya. This little mouse could calm him down without his Omega pheromones. But boy does those scents drive him wild too!

Just picturing his freckle faced cherub cuddled in his arms with a child between them sent a delectable shiver racing straight to his groin. Bakugou chuckles in his head, probably why the man was smart enough to stay on the birth control, because he knew without it they’d have already started a family before they were ready.

“Join me— Kacchan!” Hands reach out, beckoning him to the bed.

The Alpha grins and plops down close, pulling the Omega to him. He kisses Midoriya’s forehead. “I take it you’re happy?”

“Of course!” The man nestles deeper into his Alphas arms, resting his head against his chest. “But I’d be happy anywhere as long as I have you with me.”

Bakugou relishes in the euphoric scent his mate was giving off. It made his inner Alpha preen with pride. “Never in my life have I wanted a family more than I do in this moment. And I don’t care if they have quirks, are quirkless, as long as they’re healthy, and they’re ours.”

“Mmm, our own family…” child Midoriya’s dreams could never have predicted the life he ended up with. “Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Did I ever tell you thank you for pulling that stunt at graduation?”

Midoriya sits up, hesitant, his scent immediately registering anxiety. “No.” Why is he bringing that up now?

But Bakugou counters with calming Alpha pheromones as he pulls his mate back into his arms. “I still can’t stand the smug bastard, but I’m glad icyhot helped you help me get outta my own head or I wouldn’t have this life.”

“You had me so panicked Kacchan! I thought I’d killed you or something.”

“Pfft, I’m tougher then that.” He kisses Midoriya’s forehead, sweeping his thumb lovingly over and caressing the Omega’s cheek with a grin, “but I think in the end I really got the better part of the deal.”

[ererokii]

What Goes Around Comes Around

T. Shouto x Fem! Reader (inspired song fic)

Song: What Goes Around by Justin Timberlake

Warnings: angst, cheating, like one scene of sex (very small scene), characters are 18+

Italics mean flashback

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is my first fic and my first attempt at writing angst so I’m sorry if this is quite shit and of course it had to be my boy (pls forgive if there are typos). Also big shoutout to @shoutodoki and @shoutosplaything (also thank u for beta reading gabbi) for letting me tag them!

Don’t wanna think about it

Don't wanna talk about it

I’m just so sick about it

I can’t believe it's ending this way

Just so confused about it

Feeling the blues about it

I just can’t do it without ya

Can you tell me is this fair?

14 days

It’s been 14 days since the last time you saw Shouto Todoroki. You refused to acknowledge him as the man that you once loved but deep down inside you knew that you still love him. Everyday your thoughts kept haunting you as if it was a song that kept repeating itself without your permission.

Was I good enough?

Did he not love me anymore?

Could I have known before it happened?

Could it have been fixed?

Maybe I wasn’t putting enough effort?

You thought that your relationship was perfect. Like every other couple, you had your ups and downs. To something as silly as leaving the dirty dishes there or something as serious as miscommunication. Regardless, that was the best relationship you’ve been in for a while. Thought Shouto was the one to be. The one you would spend the rest of your life with. You guys were the It Couple. All your friends would always compliment on your relationship. Soulmates. That’s how everyone described your relationship with Shouto. A bond that could never be broken. The universe bringing two people together to forge the most perfect relationship. That’s what everyone used to say.

Tonight, just like every night you stared up at the ceiling refusing to let sleep take over your body as all you saw was Shouto when you closed your eyes. Laying on the couch, you stared up at the ceiling like you were in a trance, unmoving. The blanket lazily hangs off of the couch as you refused to shield your body from the cold. The unfinished dinner stayed on the granite counter in your kitchen, the half-empty wine bottle laid untouched on your low table. How pathetic you thought to yourself as you let out a weak chuckle and sat up slowly, running a hand through your messy hair. A bang like knock to your door startled you, making you turn your head quickly and could have sworn you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Who in the hell..” you mumbled and stood up, wiping your sweaty palms against your shorts as you made your way to the door, stopping in front of it. You let out a deep sigh and fixed your hair quickly to the best of your ability.

“Who is it?”

“Y/N.”

You let out an indescribable noise as you quickly covered your mouth. Why was he here? What does he need? Is he drunk? Millions of questions raced through your mind. Even with the door separating you two, you could still feel his intense gaze burning holes right through it.

“Y/N please open the door. I just want to talk to you and explain things.”

“There is nothing to talk about Todoroki” you snapped and leaned your forehead against the cool wood. He internally cringed whenever you used his last name. It sounded so foreign to him whenever the word escaped your mouth that he honestly forgot what it sounded like.

“Please all I ask of you is to let me explain”

You let out a low groan and unlocked the door quickly, opening it with force that even Shouto was surprised you would agree to face him.

“Explain?! You’re gonna explain how you oh so magically or you tripped and stuck your dick in another girl’s vagina?! Cause if you have an amazing explanation please be my guess and enlighten me.”

“Y/N come on don’t act like that..”

“No! You have no right to tell me how I should be acting! And don’t you fucking dare call me by my name. We aren’t formal anymore” You snapped and felt tears starting to form. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see you cry. Not again.

~~~~

The thought of marrying Shouto has been on your mind for the longest. Being in a relationship for 3 almost 4 years with him was amazing, you were deeply in love with him and you wanted to take the next step.

Recently you noticed a difference in Shouto’s behavior. He lost his loving touch. As time went on you noticed the bridge separating both of you as if it forbade you to meet in the middle once again. It started off small. He would come home later than usual. Yes being a Pro-Hero called for him to be out at unusual times of the night but this didn’t feel right. It wasn’t right.

“Shouto!” You called out from the front of your apartment, slipping on your shoes. “I’m going to be out for a while with Ochako! I shouldn’t be gone too long!”

Silence.

You were met with silence.

A frown formed on your face as you glanced at the man sitting down on the couch, staring down at his phone. ”Shouto?” This time you were met with a grunt. Least it was better than silence. “Did you even listen to what I said?”

“No. What did you say”

Ouch. That hurt.

“I said I was going out. With Ochako” you announced slowly, expecting that he would take notice this time. ”Uh-huh. That's cool.” he mumbled, not looking up from his phone once as a small smile formed on his face. ”Well..okay then I'll see you later then. I love you.”

Once again you were met with silence but this time he lifted his head up to meet your gaze. The look in his eyes looked unrecognized, something you haven't seen since the beginning of your friendship. ”Ok. Stay as long as you want.”

That was some of the red flags you should have taken notice of, but you were so blinded by your love for him that you didn't bring it up.

You told your best friend, Ochako Uraraka about the situation and she simply told you that you were probably overreacting and just needed to speak with the man himself. “Ochako you know he doesn't even acknowledge me anymore. He doesn't say ’I love you’, he's not affectionate anymore and always pushes me away whenever I try to have sex with him. Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?”

The brunette girl sitting beside you swirled the red wine in her glass as she stared down at it. ”I really wish I knew the answer for you Y/N-chan. From what it sounds like you just need to sit down and talk with him. It could possibly just be miscommunication.”

”What if he's cheating on me?”

”I'm going to have to stop you right there. Todoroki may be a bit dense at times but he isn't an idiot. If that were the case I would personally go down there and show him that he doesn't mess with the best girl around. In case you didn't notice, you're the best girl.

A weak chuckle escaped your lips as you took the final sip of your wine, relishing the way it went down your throat and left a tangy aftertaste. “Maybe I’ll buy a little something on the way back. Maybe some strawberry milk and soba noodles from his favorite place.”

“I mean you can do or you could just go straight home and talk to him without any bribery.”

A sigh exited your mouth as you placed your now empty glass on her white table. ”I really appreciate that you let me come over”

A smile tugged on her lips as she wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tightly against her smaller frame. “Of course Y/N-Chan! Let me know how it goes after!”

Then that’s how you found yourself in front of your door, reciting a small monologue on how you would approach the man. You opened the door quietly, staying put when you heard the soft creak of the door. “He should be home..” you whispered to yourself as you shut the door behind you once you entered your shared apartment. “All I have to do is approach and speak my mi-“ Black heels? When did you leave black heels here?

You didn’t. The only pair of shoes that were beside the black heels were your white slippers. You felt as if your heart dropped down in the depths of your body. It was a misunderstanding. It had to be.

You began walking towards your room, taking quiet steps despite feeling that your feet were dragging across the floor. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t capable of doing that. Right?

Turning the corner to enter the hallway you stopped your motion and stared. Across the hallway was your closed bedroom door. It felt like a journey that hasn’t even begun. Before taking a single step towards your destination, you heard it.

“S-Shouto!”

That was it. The moan. The noise of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of your once shared bed where it was him making you feel that good. Him touching you in a way that no one else could feel his touch. It used to be you. Only you.

“No no no” you repeated like a mantra and walked over quickly only to stop in front of the door, hand resting about the door knob. You were hesitating, but why? You already had your answer. Was it because you were in denial? You thought this was a dream?

Taking a deep breath you grasped the knob and turned it, pushing the door open quietly.

There it was. The scene you always hoped you would never see. Your now ex-boyfriend, drilling some woman into your mattress. Your presence seemed to be ignored by them.

“Fuck baby you fuck me so good!”

“You’re so fucking tight” Shouto grunted and threw his head back and closed his eyes before opening them again, tensing up on once he spotted you standing right behind him. His hips stilled as his hands let go of the woman’s ass.

You couldn’t believe it and started shaking your head in denial

“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like”

“Oh? What is it then huh? I know I’m not fucking blind. I can see what is going on with my own two eyes.”

He got off the bed quickly and grabbed a spare sheet, placing it on top to cover himself up. “Please Y/N” he whispered. He sounded desperate as he reached to grab your hand while taking a step towards you.

“How long has this been going on.”

“What?”

“How long have you been doing this behind my back.”

“...6 months.”

The past 6 months seemed like a lie now. Every kiss. Every touch. Every ‘I love you’ was nothing but a lie. Now, you remembered all the red flags that were thrown your way but your denial got the best of you. The constant fighting, blowing you off on dates to go hang out at ‘Midoriya’s place’ or even ‘Bakugo’s place’. Coming home late even when he wasn't called for work. It all made sense now.

”Baby we can talk about this”

“No!” You snapped and pointed a shaky finger at him. “Do not beg me. I gave you everything I possibly could. I put in all my time and my energy for this relationship and for you to just..” you trailed off and covered your mouth with your hand, suppressing a sob from fleeing. ”You know...instead for future purposes. If you want out of a relationship j-just tell them. Don't cheat on them from behind. And don’t you dare call me that fucking name again.” You said as confident as you could but in reality it was the opposite of confident. Your voice was wavering, your once perfect mascara was running down your face mixed with your tears.

Shouto gulped and clenched the sheet in his hand. “I still love you Y/N.. we can talk this out please. Just give me a chance.” He whispered and looked directly into your eyes. Broken. Torn. Guilty. The look in his eyes seemed to stare right through your soul.

“If you really loved me, you would have never cheated on me in the first place. You would have come up to me and spoken to me how you felt instead of doing this behind my back… I’m going to leave. When I come back, I want you out of my apartment. Take everything you own and leave.”

Is this the way it’s really going down?

Is this how we say goodbye?

Shoulda known better when you came around

That you were gonna make me cry

Now it’s breaking my heart to watch you run around

Cause I know that you’re living a lie

But that’s ok baby cause in time you will find

What goes around, comes around

~~~~

You shut your eyes tightly as the memory and clenched your fists right by your side.

“I was drunk. I went to a bar right when you left to go visit Uraraka.” Shouto said as he took a small step towards you. It felt like the world was suffocating you.

“A bar? That’s your excuse for cheating on me? Drunk for 6 months? Please. I’m not stupid. I know plenty of men that get ‘drunk’ and they don’t cheat on their significant other. I didn’t expect that coming from your mouth. You disappointed me. You let me down. You made me feel like it was my fault.”

“That’s because it’s not!” He suddenly yelled and you flinched slightly at the sudden change of his tone. He let out a deep sigh and kept going forward till he had you caged between him and the wall inside your apartment. “It was all me. I was stupid. I’m sorry for hurting you..I should have just came up to you and spoke to you how I was feeling. I’m sorry.” He whispered and placed his finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him.

You gulped and felt his intense gaze stare through you. His bi-colored hair tickling the top of your forehead. His face was close to yours, you could feel his hot breath hitting your face as he cupped your cheek.

“I’m afraid of losing you..I don’t want to lose you Y/LN” he whispered into your ear, smiling faintly when he saw you shiver. Even like this, he still had the same effect on you and you loathed it. “We can just forgive and forget.. I’ll make it up to you I promise just please forgive me”

You wanted to. You wanted time to go back and give you what you wanted. A meaningful relationship. Being with Shouto was on your mind everyday as if it was mocking you. You desperately wanted to be in his loving arms again, feeling his body on yours. Now that you were caged behind him, a low level panic started to arise in your body. Could you ever forgive him? How could you forget? What makes this different? What if he does it again?

“She cheated on you didn’t she”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, she cheated on you. Didn’t she?”

His quietness was all you needed as your answer. You shook your head and looked up at him, stroking his scar gently with your thumb.

“And you felt if you came back to me thinking I’ll let you back huh? You think that because she cheated on you it’ll make us relate on a different level and make everything better right? How’d it feel? It felt horrible huh? Like your heart was being ripped into two then stomped on.”

Shouto growled faintly and gripped your shoulders a bit tighter, opening his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“No. I’m not done fucking talking. I cried. I cried and cried for your sorry ass. You and I are not feeling the same type of pain. I loved you. She didn’t. I..I still love you” you whispered the last part under your breath

Shouto sucked in air as he tensed up. Time seemed to stop as the earth stilled. No one said anything. You missed the silence with him. Under different circumstances you would have enjoyed it. “You..you still love me?”

“Course I still love you!” You cried out and pushed him off of you, walking towards him as he kept backing up with each step you took. “But I can’t be with you. Part of me wants to forgive you and throw myself at you but the other half is telling me you’ll just do it again.”

“You think I would do it again?”

“I mean you did it the first time. So what would make it different from the next? Todoroki you just.. you need to leave.”

He quickly reached for your hands and cupped them, holding them to his chest. “I can’t lose you Y/N..” he whispered

“You already did.” You said coldly and pulled your hands out of his grasp. “What goes around comes around huh? That’s your karma now. Get out. I never want to see you again. I want the guilt to swallow you alive.”

He stood there unmoving, hands grasping around nothing as he looked up at you. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry. I hope we can start over again soon. I hope you can forgive me.”

You watched as Todoroki walked down the steps and into the dark night. It felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders but the hole in your heart was still wide and open. Closing the door till he was no longer in sight, you let your head fall against the wood, letting out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Goodbye Todoroki Shouto.”

Is this the way it’s really going down?

Is this how we say goodbye?

Shoulda known better when you came around

That you were gonna make me cry

Now it’s breaking my heart to watch you run around

Cause I know that you’re living a lie

But that’s ok baby cause in time you will find

What Goes Around, Comes Around

[sakuzaddy]

play pretend (sakusa x f! reader)

Next →    Chapter list

Chapter 1

It’s Monday, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t hate it. It’s your first day in college as a sophomore in Tokyo and you’re excited to the max, especially that you’re going to be reunited with your friends after being separated from them for almost seven years. You checked yourself in the mirror for the last time before checking your phone for any messages. Your dad wished you good luck for your first day, while your grandmother sent you a picture of her dog, wishing you good luck as well.

After texting your relatives back with a short “thanks”, you quickly headed to your front door, almost forgetting your lunch for the day. As you locked the door of your small bungalow house (that your dad gifted you on your 17th birthday), you heard a loud honk behind you.

“Get in, bitch! We’re going to college!” Your friend called out from her car. In the passenger seat, was her boyfriend and your (second) cousin, Akio, who gave you a huge smile.

“Good morning to you too, Asami,” You playfully rolled your eyes at her and gave your cousin a huge, teasing grin, “Wow, never thought you guys would last this long.”

After an agonizingly loud and short car ride later, the three of you arrived at the university. Asami pulled her boyfriend for a kiss and you gagged at the sight of them. “You guys should’ve waited for me to leave first before doing that.” You told them.

“Nah, I want to remind you how single you are.” Asami smirked at you. You gave her the middle finger.

“Let’s just get inside before I start throwing hands with you.” Asami lets out a laugh at your statement. You made your way inside the university, the halls were filled with friends, couples and some were students who were obviously new to the place. While you were marveling at the sight of the university’s architecture, Asami tugged on your jacket, getting your attention.

“Hey, there are volleyball tryouts later in the afternoon. Wanna join the club?” She offered.

You gave her a sad smile. “Sorry, but I already promised to dad that I will never join any sports club again. Especially after what happened last year.” You brought your hand to your chest. Ever since as a child, it was your dream to become a pro-volleyball player. You worked your ass off to become the player that every opposing team was afraid of. Your previous team would proudly call you their ace, but despite all your hard work and achievements, the universe made it clear that it wasn’t for you.

Sensing the sorrow in your voice, Akio gave you a brief side hug before patting your head. “Hey, you can still apply as the manager of the volleyball club. That way, it would feel like you are part of the team, too.” He shot you a smile.

“Oh, that actually sounds good!” Asami nodded, placing a finger on her chin, seemingly assessing the suggestion.  “I’ll ask coach later if there’s still a spot for the managerial position.”

“Thanks, Asami.” You smiled. “By the way, can you guys tell me where this class is?”

----- 

When you arrived at your class, there are only a few vacant seats left, and most of them were at the front, much to your disappointment. You scanned the room once again to look for any vacant seats at the middle and back row, and luckily spotted the only available chair in the middle row. You quickly made your way to it, humming to yourself as you tried to take a seat…..but a certain jerk decided to pull the chair before you could even plant your butt on it. You fell on your back with a loud thud, garnering the attention of the students in the classroom.

“Ow, what the..?” You slowly recovered from the impact, rubbing your now sore bum as you got up on your feet. You feel your body heat increasing (from anger or embarrassment, you’re really not sure) and turned to face whoever decided to pull a prank on you.

“What the hell is your problem?” You glared at the masked stranger, who had the audacity to act like nothing has happened made himself comfortable on your almost-spot.

“This is my spot.” He answered calmly, eyes still not leaving the book that he’s reading. You feel your blood pressure spike up by his words.

“Your spot? I found this first!” You argued, oblivious to the stares that were focused on you.

“Hey, miss, there’s a vacant chair right here!” A voice from the back row called out to you. You directed your attention to a light brown-haired boy with thick, round eyebrows. He removed the bag resting on the chair beside him and motioned for you to come over. You looked around the room and noticed the students watching your every move intently. You bowed your head slightly as you made your way to the back row, silently thanking the boy for snapping you out of your anger.

“Sorry about him,” the light-brown haired boy stated as you sat on your chair, “that spot has some kind of a backstory.”

You gave him a look, “Seriously?” He chuckled at your expression.

“Yeah, seriously. By the way, I’m Komori Motoya. You?”

“(L/N) (Y/N).”

After chatting with your new acquaintance, you looked at the man who stole your seat, who’s still quietly reading the book in his hands.

“What a jerk.” You muttered to yourself.

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