#feels like this was her last hurrah before quietly retiring/taking a break

[iristial]

[the-irish-mayhem]

This is a series of short, unrelated vignettes/oneshots that was supposed to be posted for Fosterson Week a year or two ago and I finally got around to finishing it. Enjoy!

5 Universes In Which Jane Is Worthy and 1 Where She Isn’t

Read on AO3

1.

On the top ten list of bad ideas she’s ever had, this is so, so, so bad the number one spot doesn’t even seem adequate. The guy who thought he was Thor clearly got caught trying to get her stuff back, and so she is  so  screwed unless she goes in herself. God, why did she go along with this again? He’d claimed he’d fly out once he got what he was looking for (which,  god , again, why had she kind of believed him?)

Her feet crunch quietly against the hard-packed sand leading to the hole in the plastic tarping making up the walls of the facility that Thor had kicked a guy through, and she, without nearly as much hesitation as she should probably feel, hops in.

The place isn’t huge, and it doesn’t take long for Jane to find the main room.

Thor had helpfully drawn nearly everyone in security away from where her equipment is stowed, next to a… hammer in the dirt. Literally, they built this entire site around a hammer? What the  hell , archaeologists never get this much funding and government attention. And what does her equipment have to do with it?

Jane shakes herself. She has a lot more important things to do instead of trying to puzzle out the weird and wild workings of shady government agencies. Things like capitalizing on their inattentiveness and getting her gear back.

She grabs her notebook first, stuffing it into her back pocket, and then trying to figure out how she’s going to cart out at least two hundred or so pounds of equipment.

“Hey!”

Jane nearly leaps out of her skin and turns, seeing a pair of security guards sprinting towards her from one of the halls.

“Shit,” she spits, and frantically looks around at her equipment. Lightest and hardest to replace… Radio spectrometer retrofitted for wormholes. Yep, that one. She scoops it up in her arms and takes off.

Even running as quickly as she can, the guards are still within arm’s length of her before she’s taken five steps.

Oh, they are not taking her work. Absolutely not. Erik isn’t here to hold her back this time.

She reaches an arm out, barely managing to hold onto her spectrometer as she grasps the handle of the hammer. Old or valuable, the thing is still a hammer, she can still swing at them with it.

A crack of thunder. A blinding flash of light. The feeling of grabbing a live-wire running through her body for a handful of terrifying seconds until the euphoria comes.

If she be worthy , she hears.

May she possess the power of Thor.

Oh, Jane thinks.

Oh,  fuck .

 2.

“No, I don’t know what… That’s why I’m coming out here to… Look, all the issues with our readings at the site are originating from this one spot, so yeah, I’m going to go take a look,” Jane says into the phone.

“Who is it?” Darcy whispers. Their truck rumbles along a remote road in Norway leading to the coast, and the interference from their mystery site makes it so they don’t get any radio stations, so Darcy is starved for entertainment.

Jane covers the mouthpiece and whispers back, “Caplan. He’s--” she uncovers the mouthpiece. “No, there’s not any danger. You--no… No… Wait, but that time wasn’t actually my fault, so…”

“Being a dick again?”

Jane’s eyeroll is all the answer required. “Look, we’ll be ba-- in--” Jane makes an almost comical crackling noise in the back of her throat. “Wha-- interference from the-- thr-- breaking up--bye.” She hangs up without any further discussion.

Darcy contains a laugh. “You’re gonna pay for that later, you know.”

Jane rolls her eyes again. “Well, it’s my being at his facility that’s even getting him funding in the first place, so, you know.” She shrugs. “If he wants to fight me, I’m the one with more published papers and theories that changed the laws of physics.”

Darcy pumps a fist. “Fuck yeah.”

She waves a hand. “He’ll be fine. He’s pissed we took the Mule without asking.” Where they plan on going, there’s no vehicle access, so the ATV was their only recourse. “If he thinks I’ll be satisfied with this one spot fucking up my results over and over again, he’s got another thing coming. Speaking of which,” the device that rests in Jane’s lap begins to ping, “pull over here.”

“Woo, off-road time,” Darcy cheers, and follows Jane’s instructions.

Another hour of driving in the Mule later, they reach the geographic nexus that’s been screwing with their readings.

It’s a pretty spot, bright green grass running all the way to the edge of the cliff, where a sheer drop would land them in the ocean. Norway’s fjords are always breathtaking, and Darcy counts herself lucky yet again that she gets to visit places like this and get paid for it. All in all, a pretty rad job.

“Can you set up--”

“Magnetic perimeter and radiation scanners?” Darcy finishes. “Yeah.”

Darcy unloads the equipment from the back of the ATV as Jane approaches the nexus.

It looks like a storm is beginning to swirl overhead, and Darcy eyes it nervously. Without any cover, they are pretty much sitting ducks if any rain starts to fall, god forbid if lightning starts. Where the hell did all these thunderheads come from? This blew in awfully fast.

Jane crouches down and reaches for something on the ground. “Darcy, you should come look at this,” she calls out. 

Quite suddenly, the hair on the back of Darcy’s neck stands straight up. The sensation is so strong and sudden that it literally causes her to gasp in shock.

“Jane--” she starts but she doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Faster than the blink of an eye, a massive bolt of lightning tears from the sky, slicing straight down to where Jane kneels.

Darcy barely has time to scream.

She is thrown backwards by the force of the lightning strike, and she thinks she hears a voice whisper before she hits the ground behind her.

If she be worthy.

When she looks up again, she knows she hears it.

A strange woman stands where Jane once was--massive, tall, blonde, with impressive armor and Mjolnir in her fist.

May she possess the power of Thor.

 3.

Fragile isn’t a word that could ever have been used to describe Jane Foster, but with her cheekbones hollowed out by weight loss, neck and wrists gone skinny and tendons standing out against her skin in sharp relief, fragile almost seems generous. A plastic band wraps around her wrist, stamped with her name, attending physician, allergies, and a barcode encoded with all her patient information.

She is tired, often, but with Darcy’s help still manages to go through her research and rough out an outline for her next paper she plans to publish.

Jane likes to plan, likes to say things like there’s a conference next September that this paper will do really well at, and Jane knows that Darcy is trying to hide her heartbreak at these statements. Darcy used to not hide anything from her, used to barely have the capacity, let alone the desire, but it’s strange the effect dying can have.

Her hospital room is outfitted with several whiteboards scribbled over with notes and formulae, the answers Jane constantly seeks waiting to be pried out of the clutches of the equations she can spend hours puzzling over. It’s a good use of her time, when she’s not--

Elsewhere.

Jane is careful to hide the hammer. It’s her secret legacy, her last hurrah, her hidden responsibility and duty--

Mjolnir is many things to her, but burdensome is certainly not one of them.

She swings her legs over the side of her bed, gripping her IV pole to help her stand. She walks over to the window, where the sunlight of the early afternoon has been shrouded over by storm clouds. She slides open her window, the cool wind of the storm washing over her face.

In the distance, she hears the rumble of thunder.

Jane Foster smiles.

 4.

His axe is buried in Thanos’s chest, and there’s a blinding moment of what feels like sour vengeance--so many have died already, and now the Mad Titan will perish for his crimes.

He presses the blade of Stormbreaker in further, for Loki, for Heimdall, for every one of his slaughtered people.

Then Thanos whispers, “You should’ve gone for the head.”

And he feels his heart drop.

And then, and suddenly as Thor himself had dropped from the sky, another streak of lightning blazes in from the east, and Thor can feel it--  Mjolnir .

But how?

He can’t even tell who is wielding it until the hammer smashes Thanos’s skull in, and the Mad Titan is finally felled. The Infinity Gauntlet drops, the stones unused, the universe saved.

The woman holding Mjolnir is tall, with shining armor that looks well-crafted, including a helmet that hides the upper half of her face. In spite of that, he can see her eyes.

Eyes he would know anywhere in the galaxy.

She looks almost as stunned as he is.

“Jane?”

 5.

The cell phone footage is grainy and difficult to make out. Shot by a civilian in Garching, Germany, the shaky video peeks at the action from behind a brick wall. A voice out of frame whispers,  “Dude, I think it’s Thor!”  and is quickly hushed by the one holding the camera.  So at least two more witnesses to track down,  Natasha thinks tiredly.

The observation, though, is rather striking in its accuracy. The figure has a red cape and flowing blonde hair, and displays a command of lightning that Natasha hasn’t seen since Thor more-or-less retired after their last showdown with Thanos.

The opponents are a small gaggle of aliens, impossible to fully make out but probably more scavengers who’d come to pick the bones of Thanos’s last battlefield. In the two years since the Snap, they’d been getting a steadier stream of extraterrestrial threats looking to take advantage of Earth’s vulnerability.

“How is it that we have holographic video technology widely available, but every civilian who has useful intel has a Nokia from 2004?” Natasha grumbles, squinting and trying again in vain to enhance the footage.

From her place next to her, Okoye chuckles. “I think we’ve demonstrated that we have the worst luck imaginable,” she jokes darkly.

The figure is still hard to make out aside from the gaudy cape and lightning. The electricity in the air made the audio on the video spotty at best, mostly static and a few loud bursts of accurate recordings of a fight, but mostly useless. Then a few video frames give them a clear view of the front of the figure.

“Pause,” Natasha says, sitting forward in her chair. “Go back three frames?” The computer obeys her voice command, ticking back to the moment when they had the best view.

Both Okoye and Natasha freeze as they take in the image.

There’s a shard of disappointment that goes through Natasha when she realizes, once and for all, that it definitely isn’t Thor. That disappointment turns swiftly into suspicion because she does not know this person, and they certainly have powers that would’ve landed them at the top of a SHIELD watchlist back in the day.

It’s a woman. She’s massive, arms and legs thick with muscle, and extensive armor that could be Asgardian make, but with the graininess of the video, it’s hard to tell. Her helmet covers almost her entire face, only exposing her mouth and jaw. Some sort of chainmail on her legs, perhaps, and a sleeve on her left arm. Her right arm is bare, and clutched in that hand--

“Mjolnir,” Natasha breathes.

“I thought it was destroyed,” Okoye says.

Natasha nods. “We all did.”

Despite the video quality, there’s no mistaking that hammer. Especially when Natasha resumes the video and the mysterious woman throws the hammer, and it returns to her hand moments later.

“We haven’t seen any new powered people since the Snap,” Okoye says, breaking the silence. “With our…  situation  being what it is,” she continues, tactfully calling the mess they’d made of the world a  situation , “we should either ascertain if this woman is on our side, get her on our side, or terminate her as soon as possible.”

Natasha nods in quiet contemplation. They cannot afford to have a powered person running around the world unchecked, not with the way things are. They’re barely managing to hold it together as it is, and the Avengers are spread extremely thin. Not to mention their help is often rejected in an official capacity, a lionshare of the blame for what happened falling to the World’s Greatest Heroes who failed to save the world. It’s a PR nightmare, and there are many nights when Natasha wishes that she’d just been dusted along with the half of the world who didn’t make it.

But she didn’t. She’s still here, and someone needs to lead.

“Want me to track down Thor and ask him about her?” Okoye says. “Based on her strength from that video, she’s probably Asgardian.”

Natasha’s kneejerk reaction is to say no, that Thor can’t handle this, that he’s been in an almost constant state of inebriation and/or depression for the last two years and she won’t expose her friend to something that might be painful for him. Then her rational mind kicks in and she nods at Okoye. Thor is their best lead. “I’ll come with you.” (Then her vicious mind raises its hackles and says if she’s got to wade into the shit that is the post-Snap world, then Thor should have to get right into it with her.)

That night, the evening news features a story with the grainy footage Natasha could’ve sworn she’d managed to scrub from everywhere (but alas, she is no Vision.) The ticker at the bottom of the screen reads The New Thor: Who is she, and can we trust her?

***

They find him at a hightop table in a hole-in-the-wall bar in New Asgard, and if Natasha had been serving him, she probably would’ve cut him off at least four drinks ago, but the bartender doesn’t seem concerned with denying their monarch his alcoholic solace.

“Do I need to go get Brunnhilde?” Okoye whispers to Natasha.

Thor sways in his barstool, hands clasped around a large stein of beer, but seems coherent enough to answer their questions.

“Not yet.”

“Wha--?” Thor mumbles, eyes half-lidded. “What’re you saying?” His words are disturbingly slurred. Maybe getting Brunnhilde wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Natasha refocuses. “Have you watched the news recently?”

Thor snorts and takes a drink of beer. And doesn’t stop taking a drink of beer until the stein is half-empty. Natasha’s eyes widen when he lets out a loud belch.

“Apologies,” he says, not sounding apologetic, “but you’ll have to excuse me for not keeping up with current events.”

Okoye cuts in, “How about this current event?

She slides a set of photos out of a manila envelope, laying them down on the bar table. The paper sticks to the surface of the table.

Thor shakes his head once, as if trying to rein in the spinning the room is likely doing around him. He leans down and squints at the photos. “That--” He cocks his head. “That isn’t me.”

“No,” Okoye confirms. “It isn’t.”

“These photos were taken two days ago in Garching, Germany. Know of any Asgardians who settled there?”

Thor swallows, and doesn’t immediately answer. He raises his free hand not on his beer to the photos, and the tip of his middle finger drags over where Mjolnir is inked onto the paper. “I thought it was gone,” he mumbles.

“So did we,” Natasha says, tempted to reach out to him at the abject sadness in his voice.

Okoye slants a glance at Natasha.  Focus , she seems to say with her eyes, before redirecting Thor, “Are there any Asgardians in Germany?”

“A few,” he says. “None that look like this woman.” He looks up at them. “Do you know how she found Mjolnir?”

It’s his most coherent question yet. Natasha shakes her head. “We just found out about her. She looks pretty confident with it, so maybe she’s been training somewhere.”

“I don’t underst--” Thor loses his battle with his balance and gravity and falls off his barstool. Natasha and Okoye both reach out to steady him, but he manages to catch himself before he hits the floor.

Natasha goes to Thor’s side, her heart falling quickly as she puts an arm around him. It’s hard to see Thor like this, especially knowing the kind of man he used to be. (Of all the people she thought would stick with her, after Clint and Steve left, she thought that Thor would be the one to stay. He’d fought through so much heartache, sided with them in New York against his own brother, protected the Earth from the Dark Elves after his mother’s murder, faced down Thanos even after his planet had been destroyed, and yet he’d always been ready to fight. It’s downright unnatural, utterly tragic to see him laid so low.)

Turning to Okoye, Natasha says, “Go get Brunnhilde.” Okoye doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Thor,” Natasha prompts, getting the man to look at her. His eyes look pained. She’s sure hers must reflect his. “You’ve gotta stop this.”

“Stop what?” he mumbles.

“You know what.” She hesitates before offering, “You could come back, you know. Join the Avengers again. I really could use the help, and you’ve got more experience leading than everyone else on the team combined.”

He’s already shaking his head. “No.” Clear, concise, and completely at odds with his drunkenness. “No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

His answering smile is sad. “I have nothing left to offer you.”

“Yes, you do,” Natasha answers softly, but based on his tone, this isn’t an argument she’s going to win. Not today, at least.

A beat passes. “You really didn’t know about Mjolnir?” she asks, one more time.

“I’m not worthy anymore,” he whispers. “Why would it call to me?”

Natasha doesn’t answer that. There’s a lot of layers there that she doesn’t think she’ll ever fully understand.

Okoye returns with Brunnhilde at her side. She says to Okoye, “You know, sometime you’re going to have to visit me when it’s not for the purposes of picking his sorry ass up off the floor.”

Okoye chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brunnhilde proceeds to pick Thor up in a bridal carry, making Natasha stumble a bit when his weight is no longer against her. “Come on, your majesty,” she says, tone almost bored. “Let’s get you home.”

Natasha bites her tongue against all the questions she wants to ask.

How often do you do this for him?

How is everyone around here blind to what’s happening to him?

Where on earth is he getting enough alcohol to regularly get drunk?

Before she can even think of pursuing another line of questioning, she gets a call from Carol--she is needed urgently back at headquarters.

She sighs. The hunt for the new Thor will have to wait for now.

***

It’s only once Natasha and Okoye are on a quinjet and flying back to their base that Brunnhilde unceremoniously drops Thor on the ground.

He huffs, but quickly stands up and brushes himself off, perfectly sober. “Unnecessary.”

She glares at him. “How long are you going to keep this act up?” she demands. “Those are your  friends .”

“Natasha is a friend,” Thor corrects, “Okoye thinks I’m a worthless drunk.”

Brunnhilde rolls her eyes. “Because she’s never known you as anything else.”

He grits his teeth. “It’s for the best.”

“That’s what you keep telling yourself, but they  know  about her. What’s your act doing to keep her safe now?”

The muscle in Thor’s jaw works furiously, but he calmly answers, “They don’t know her identity. They think she’s a rogue Asgardian.”

Brunnhilde bristles and brusquely pulls a folded manila envelope out of her back pocket. “Okoye gave these to me, said to ask you about them again when you sobered up.” She quickly opens the envelope and tears its contents out and holds them right in his face. The edges of the photo paper crease under the force of her fingers clenching down on them. “You see this? The better she gets, the more this is going to happen. And you know what’s eventually going to happen?” She jerks her head backwards. “Your friends are going to find her. She’s on a crash course, and then she will be a part of this. You can’t stop that. It was a fantasy to think you ever could.”

“I didn’t think I could keep her from it forever,” Thor replies evenly, and he wraps his fingers around Brunnhilde’s wrist and lowers the photos from his face so he can look her in the eye.

“Then  why ?” she asks.

“Because she needs to be better than me,” he says, like a release of steam from a pot. “She needs to be better, and she’s not yet.”

Brunnhilde shakes her head. “I don’t know if you’re going to get a choice for much longer.

   and the one time…

“Jane.”

His shoulder jumps under her head.

“Hm?”

“We’re almost there.”

“Oh,” she says groggily, and pushes herself off Thor’s shoulder. “Oops,” she says when she notices the spot of drool on his shirt. “Sorry.” The weird half-sleep that comes along with car rides is slow to depart, clawing at her eyelids until she reaches to her right, where a bottle of water sits.

After she downs half the bottle and truly wakes up, he gives her a soft smile, one that says he probably wasn’t far behind her in terms of falling asleep. “It’s no matter. I thought you’d want to be awake before we arrived.”

She stretches her hands over her head as much as the towncar’s roof allows, and a series of satisfying pops go down her spine. She grunts in satisfaction before saying, “I need to go over my speech one more time.”

“I’m fairly certain  I  could give it at this point with how many times I’ve heard it.”

“You’re a good person to practice with!”

“I’m only teasing,” he says. “And besides, this is hardly your first time doing this.”

“This still feels bigger, somehow.” 

He makes a soft sound of agreement. Jane offers the water to him, which he accepts and drinks his fill before capping it and setting it aside.

Jane continues, “It’s one thing to get, you know, a big science award. Like, the last time I got the Nobel I felt almost old hat at it, you know?”

Thor gives her a look. “I recall you saying that you felt like you were going to throw up before you went onstage to give your speech.”

Jane flaps her hand at him. “Okay, sure I was nervous, but I was….used to the shape of it? This is a completely different type of thing.”

“Yes, excelling at heroics is something you usually leave to me.”

“Hey, I have plenty of behind the scenes heroics!”

“Of course, dear,” he says with a laugh, “but none of those behind the scenes heroics resulted in a singlehanded defeat of the Infinity Stones, handicapping Thanos’s plan, and saving untold lives.”

Jane tilts her head back onto the headrest, a smile spreading across her face. That day, that last fight that Strange predicted would end in only one way, would be permanently emblazoned in her memory as long as she lived. Thor had asked her to stay away from the battlefield, and initially, she’d agreed. She and Tony had been theorizing about the nature of the stones, and they hadn’t had time to parse out the quantum entanglement theories together before her thinking buddy had to jet off to try and save the universe.

It came to her like a lightning strike only minutes after the team had left for the last battle. She’d built a frequency jammer that would disrupt the quantum entanglement of the stones in thirty minutes flat, and then raced out of the Avengers compound like a bat out of hell. She’d just have to get within range of the stones, and they’d be rendered inert, their effects immediately reversed, and they’d just be ordinary stones, and then they could be destroyed.

And, incredibly, even though the science of it was shaky at best, and she’d had to improvise on the fly when some of the wiring on the jammer had shorted out, it worked.

The army from the past was gone, snapped back to their original chronological configuration; Natasha and Gamora were spat out of whatever pocket universe they’d been trapped in; and Tony hadn’t had to use his gauntlet, hadn’t had to sacrifice himself for the universe as she’d  known  he’d planned on.

(Dr. Strange had sputtered, shocked, saying that of the fourteen million six hundred and five futures he’d seen, he’d only seen one possible outcome where they won, and it wasn’t this.

Jane shrugged, breathless, dirty, bloody, and grinned. “I found number fourteen million six hundred and  six .”)

“And all without a single power to her name aside from her intellect,” he finishes.

“I am pretty cool.”

“Both pretty and cool, much agreed.”

She lets her head fall to the side so she can look at him. His beard is long enough to be braided, and he’d done so this morning, and he’d taken care to braid some of his hair as well before pulling it back with a tie. He looked good. Great. Amazing, even.

She reached out her hand closest to him, trailing a finger along one of the braids in his beard. A streetlight from outside catches on her wedding ring just so.

After the Snap, she and Thor had drifted back together, partially out of shared grief and guilt, but had ultimately rediscovered why they’d worked together for years before the distance had become too much strain. They’d officially tied the knot a few years after Tony and Pepper had. (Steve had been Thor’s best man, and Darcy Jane’s maid of honor. Tony walked Jane down the aisle in Jane’s mother’s absence. Morgan had been their flower girl.) 

She wonders if any of this would’ve happened if they hadn’t found each other again. If they hadn’t rekindled their love for each other in the horrible aftermath of the Snap, would she have been around to help? Would Tony have reached out to her with the time travel issue? Would he have invited her to collaborate on the quantum entanglement of the stones if she hadn’t re-integrated herself into the Avengers circle? She likes to think so--they were friends, at least somewhat, before the Snap (but their closeness now was only formed in those last five years of wounded peace.)

“What are you thinking about?” Thor asks, and mirrors her position so he can look at her.

“Just that I’m really glad I married you.” She nudges forward so she can kiss him. “Really, really glad.”

“I’m glad you married me, too,” he answers. “Not many women would have had the fortitude to put up with me for as long as you have.”

She grabs his hand and pulls it over to her lap. “How many people did Pepper say were going to be here?”

Thor shrugs. “Less than two thousand, but there is the webcast as well.”

“ God .”

He squeezes her hand. “Go through your speech once more. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’d feel better if we could skip past the ceremony and go right to the drinking and partying portion of the evening.”

Thor laughed. “If only I were planning the evening, Jane Foster. Now start from the top.”

Jane laughs, and closes her eyes. With her husband’s hand in hers, his warmth a steady reassurance at her side, she recalls the words she’s memorized and feels her nervousness retreat as she begins to speak.

[prussianvenom]

Happy Halloween

All Might has a halloween party, Aizawa reluctantly goes, things escalate, Toshinori has self image issues, Aizawa aims to change that

Aizawa was surprised that she was surprised.

She wasn't quite sure what to expect when Mic announced that she had costumes for their little trio for the Halloween party All Might was throwing. The blonde sure enjoyed her American traditions, and the other blonde was always too happy to indulge her. Especially if it was crazy, bright, nonsensical, and could have a beat slapped on to it.

“So what do you think?”

“You need to get that out of my face before I burn it.”

Mic pouted but did not relent. She continued to push the velvety fabric against the brunettes face.

“Come on kitty cat!”

Aizawa groaned and contemplated slamming the door in Mics face. She smiled at the thought of the loud mouth whining out in the cold in her matching gray velour mouse one piece. The fact that she had chosen to be a mouse of all things… She had to have done it on purpose.

“Come on, you don't want to disappoint All Might do you?”

“I could care less if I disappoint her.”

Yamada gasped in mock shock.

“But she had picked out all our outfits, how could you?!” Mic clutched her heart in feign distraught. “Think of poor little Toshinori!”

Aizawa bristled at that and Mic saw her opening. While Aizawa cared little for the “All Might” persona. While she had a loyalty and possessiveness over the counterpart of the huge woman.

Mics lips stretched over her teeth in a cheshire like grin. She had her. Aizawa knew she was defeated and ripped the costume from her hands.

“There's gonna be a lot of booze right?” Yamada giggled and nodded.

Aizawa sighed. She felt naked in the one piece compared to what she normally wore. It was freezing. How do Yamada and Might Stand it? How hot do they run?

The pair arrived at All Might's apartment shortly after Yamada dragged Aizawa out of her apartment. It was already packed to the seams with people dancing and jostling around. How ironic to have a costume party with heroes. Switching out the daily uniforms for something more cartoonish. As she scanned the room she saw a good amount of heroes had dressed up as each other and were having a good time doing drunken impressions of each other. It was too many people for Aizawa's taste, but she was already here might as well stay for some time.

Hizashi squealed in her ear and dragged her towards the center of her excitement. Towering over a group of guests was All Might dressed in a white velour bunny outfit similar to Aizawas and Mics. Aizawa wondered how the fabric was holding up under the strain of the All Might form, already looking several sizes too small. The tall blonde was laughing as she entertained the circle of entranced heroes. When she spotted the two she waved them over excitedly. Why was she even using the All Might form? She knew the strain it put her body under and she wasn't even doing hero work. Why strain yourself so needlessly? What a waste. Aizawa was beginning to sour her already agitated demeanor.

All Might laughed when she greets Mic. When she turned to Aizawa her demeanor cracked slightly and her face flushed. It was the most skin Aizawa had shown off in public and with their on and off thing they had going on she understood what effect she was having.

“Thank you both for coming. I honestly wasn't sure Mic was going to be able to get you here. I expected the outfit even less.”

Aizawa glared to the side at Mic.

“Do you have any liquor here? I kinda wanna forget that I'm in this costume.” All Might let out a genuine laugh at that and Aizawa's heart burned.

The costume wasn't the only reason she needed a drink.

“Of course. Midnights set up a little bar for himself.”

Low and behold in the far corner of the apartment Midnight managed to close off the kitchen to make it a little bar. He was even dressed like a glitzy bartender or cocktail waitress. Aizawa figured this was as best a time than any for her to go solo. She broke away from the blondes without a word and made her way over to the roaring event. Aizawa wondered for a moment if this was something Midnight did outside of work. He was juggling 3 shakers filled, with god knows what, for a cheering crowd. The sour puss managed to make her way to the front, managing to catch the tail end of the performance.

“Hey Night can you get me some vodka?”

“Starting off hard tonite are w-” Night nearly dropped a tumbler one he looked over at Aizawa. “My, my, my, that's the most I've seen of you ever.”

“Thanks, I hate it.” Midnight busted out laughing.

“Why are you wearing it then?”

Aizawa blushed and looked off to the side.

“Ahhhh,” Midnight followed Aizawa's gaze, “You're so whipped.”

“Shut up and give me a drink.”

“Not with that attitude missy.”

“Please sir, give me a full glass of hard liquor.” Midnight smiled and poured a shot. Aizawa looked the man dead in the eyes.

“What?”

“If you're gonna be difficult just leave me with the bottle.”

“Are you that embarrassed?” Aizawa said nothing. While maintaining eye contact she leaned over the bar and grabbed the full bottle of Titos.

“Christ Ai.” Midnight muttered in awe as the woman chugged the equivalent of, at least a glass, of straight vodka.

“That's better.”

“Cheers Kitty,” Aizawa groaned “ Everything is fine. You look, well, you look fine as hell, and she knows it.” Aizawa stared longingly at the boastful woman across the apartment.

“She hasn't even noticed I left her and Mic.”

“Oh please, She has. You can see her trying to subtly glance around for you. She feels obligated to entertain her guests.”

“Rather than her supposed lover?” Aizawa mumbled quietly.

Mid smiled softly.

“You told me you hated All Might. Toshi's not here right now. All Might has an obligation to her friends and peers.

“Toshi's never here.” Aizawa took another long swig of the bottle before sauntering off.

She figures she could find a dark corner to get drunk and cry in or something.

The whole conversation made her mood drop even lower than before.

She found herself nearing the dance floor. She took another swig and decided

Fuck it.

She left the bottle somewhere before immersing the heat of the crowd. She didn't really know how to dance, but, then again, nobody else seemed like they knew either. Hell, a good chunk of them were probably drunker than her. Mic had apparently broke away from Might also and took up the responsibility of dj-ing. She knew good music, albeit loud, Aizawa would give her that. Aizawa cleared her mind and just let herself go, let her body move with the music.

If she wasn't already buzzed she might be bothered by the closeness of other bodies pressing against her. As more time passed the drunker she began to feel. She allowed more people to impede in her personal space and embrace her, she embraced them back. She cared less and less with each passing moment. The current body she felt behind her back was suddenly gone and replaced by a larger, much more dominant one. She thought it might be Endeavor for a moment, but then again, Endeavor would never come to All Mights even if invited.

All Might.

Toshi?

Aizawa refused to turn around out of drunken spite. She couldn't ignore the presence however. That was near impossible. Large fingers encircled her hips and Aizawa off beat for a moment before they pulled her back into the tune.

“You look stunning Shouta.” Hot breath washed over Aizawa’s neck.

Despite her best efforts she shivered and latched onto one of the large domineering hands. Her voice sounded innocent enough, but Aizawa knew better. Beneath that confident tone was loaded desire. All M-Toshi, she loved costumes, or well, costume play to be specific. Especially when it came to her cat-loving co-worker.

“Such praise is an honor coming from the great All Might.” Aizawa slurred with half-hearted turseness. All Might chuckled quietly. A broken chuckle that Aizawa recognized as Toshinori and not the boastful beast. It made Aizawa's heart and hands clench nervously.

“Soon enough that honor will mean nothing.” Toshinori words were somber but were said with a fond mirth.

“Is that the point of all this? One last hurrah before you finally let yourself retire?”

“In a way.”

Aizawa hummed in response. The songs began to slow. IT felt like Mic was going out of her way now to make it feel like a cheap middle school prom. Couples were drunkenly slow dancing with each other, others took this as a break to rest, drink and eat. Toshi turned Aizawa around in her arms with little resistance.

“You're starting to look tired Toshi.”

“It's almost been an hour and a half. Most of it I’ve been in this form.”

“What a waste.” Aizawa retorted with dry sarcasm.

The bulking figure stopped swaying and looked down on the younger adult.

“I know you hate this, that you hate,” All Might gestured to herself,” Me…” Aizawa opened her mouth to interject only to be silenced. “Soon enough though, this form will fade away and so will All Might. I’ll be forgotten. Only Toshinori Yagi will remain.” Aizawa stared up into sad blue eyes. She said it as if she was dying, as if she was already dead.

“You say that as if its bad thing.” Toshinori perked up in surprise. “All Might, you, have done more than enough for this world. The mantle of peace had been passed down. It's about time for Toshinori Yagi to take the spotlight and live out the rest of his life. Dontcha think?” Aizawa was stunned by how easily she was able to get that out.

And then she was pulled into an almost soul crushing hug.

“No one cares ab-”

“I do.” Toshinori let out a broken sob of a laugh.

“Always so quick to conclusions. I know you care, I know others care about Toshinori Yagi. No one else though. No one cares about the withering old husk that I come to be,” Her voice was feeble. A large glove hand caressed Aizawas face. “But that doesn't matter, because there is someone who loves that person. And it is enough. Toshinori Yagi is not alone anymore.” She was crying, she was beautiful. “I’m sorry, you already have to see me in a horrid state all the time, and now I’m here rambling nonsense to you.” She laughed and wiped away her tears as if they were nothing.

“Yagi I-” Before Aizawa could respond the speakers began blasting the other blondes screeching voice. Aizawa flinched and whipped around to glare down the woman.

When she turned around the mass of a woman was gone.

Aizawa scanned and searched through the crowd to find the star of the party. She should be easy to find at the crazy seven feet height she stood at. Aizawa felt her heart sink into her stomach. The bright hues blackened and dimmed, only serving to make her nauseous and upset.

Aizawa found her discarded bottle of Titos, and a corner deserving of her presence.

How sad. The drink didn't last as long as she had hoped. The party sure went on way long after it finished. It was almost early morning when the party thinned out to a few. A good majority of them had passed out amongst the furniture, leaving Aizawa to stumble over them as she made her way around. Aizawa had amazingly been able to fall asleep a couple of times throughout the night. It gave her some time to sober up a bit so she didn't feel particularly better or worse when she woke.

She found Toshinori struggling to maintain All Might in the kitchen. She was half out of it, steam billowing from her quivering form. Aizawa almost felt some pity for her. She was so convinced that her normal skin and bones were so disgusting that she couldn't even be herself in her off duty hours.

“Everyone's gone or knocked off their asses.” All Mights head shot up towards the sound of the brunettes voice.

She frowned and then smiled ruefully up at the other.

“Such a joke isn't it? I spout nonsense and then cry and abandon you. Tonight I was hoping to seduce you. Such a foolish idea after such a display.”

“Is that so?” Aizawa wondered bemusedly.

“Of course. I should've known you wouldn't be impressed by this, the costume, the party.”

“You are a fool,” Aizawa sighed. “To think that you would need anything to impress or seduce me with.”

“I know, even less so with this form right?” The blonde straightened up some.

“Yes. Then why are you still in it?” Aizawa stepped closer to crowd the woman. “If you're trying to seduce me?”

Toshinori looked off to the side red creeping up over her neck and features. With a billow of smoke she let herself finally de-buff.

Scraggly hands rushed to grab hold of the now way too big costume. Aizawa drank in the scene slowly, lovingly. Like savoring a fine wine. The velour fabric barely concealed the scrawny woman. She was swimming in the fabric. The only thing keeping it on were her hands. There was something about the loose covering outfit that was a lot more appetizing than when it was form fitting. Perhaps it was the way it was bashfully held onto, or the way she was able to see even more of her through the gaping holes of fabric she wasn't holding up.

The flush had consumed her face and shoulders, painting her already peachy skin darker in the most alluring hue.

“That's,” Aizawa hummed lowly. “That's more like it.” Toshi laughed broken and nervously.

“I still don't understand how you find me so appealing like this.”

“It's because it's you that I find it appealing.” Aizawa reached out to caress the velvet covered stomach. She felt lean and tired muscles twitch under fingers and smiled.

“Where’d the confidence go. I thought you were going to seduce me.”

“It's hard for me to be confident like th-” Toshi paused thoughtfully and smiled softly. “I don't have confidence when I'm like this….When I'm with you, like this.”

Aizawa was about to argue about how much she preferred her like this when she realized that wasn't what she meant. Not when she was Yagi, but when she was open, and vulnerable. As All Might she had to be unwavering, a rock to depend on. As Yagi though, she was weak, brittle, susceptible. Aizawa's face softened and she pulled the taller down into a soft deep kiss.

“Perhaps you should be the one seducing.” Toshinori mumbled against the shorter one's lips.

“Me existing is enough to seduce you.” Toshinori laughed and nodded.

“I can't help it. What am I to do when you're so enthralling. Especially dressed up like this.”

The blonde carefully reached out with one hand. Her long fingers skimmed up Aizawa's bare arms, stopping to trace at the scars littered across her skin. Aizawa felt the guilt seep through her touch when it ran over the scars. Yagi blamed herself for not being there to protect her, to protect the kids.

The forgotten velveteen fabric began to droop. The famished woman realized and flinched away in an effort to grab it, but was stopped by Aizawa's own hands.

“Keep touching me.”

“Surely you don't want to s-”

“I said,” Aizawa pressed her chest to Toshinori. Close enough to keep the outfit up by only her breasts. “Keep touching me.” She breathed hotly against the hero's lips.

Yagi made a gruntled noise in the back of her throat and continued caressing all the bare skin that was left uncovered. Gently, she moved her hands across Aizawa's back. She ran her hands down her spine until she hit the base of the fake cat tail hanging from the outfit. On the outside you couldn't tell if Aizawa was feeling anything at all. Just like how Aizawa was able to read her, Toshinori could too. She knew from the way her eyes slowly closed, how the eyelashes fluttered against pink cheeks, from the way her lips parted to let out a small sigh, she knew she was doing something right.

Suddenly a glass shattered to the floor and the two jumped and broke away from each other. They turned to find the source. Some passed out partier on the counter had rolled over in their sleep and knocked the bottle to the ground. No one else seemed to stir fortunately.

“Let's go.”

“Wha-? Where?”

“Your bedroom obviously, or would you rather someplace else?”

Toshinoris blush increased tenfold. She took the younger ones hand and led her to the bedroom, even though she knew the brunette knew where it was. Her hand trembled all the way there. She was nervous and second guessing herself as usual. Even if it wasn't their first time together in bed Toshinori always reacted as if it was. Kept things from getting dull Aizawa would tell herself, but the reality of it was sadder to recognize. She was always stuttering, blushing, a nervous blubbering mess when it came to this. She was so….insecure. She was so convinced that her body was ugly that she was ready to rejected at any given moment. Aizawa tried so hard each time to convince her that she was wanted, desired. At times it felt like fighting a losing battle. Yet, here she was.

Once the bedroom door closed behind them Aizawa wasted no time pushing the blonde against it. She paused to look deep into the shiny black and blue eyes. She stared unblinkingly as she pushed her thumbs under the leg holes of the blondes one piece. She traced up and along the piercing bones of her pelvis. Her eyelashes fluttered and her breath caught in her throat.

“It's a shame you didn't get this in your actual size,” Aizawa commented as her thumbs followed the hemline to her ass. “You would've been stunning.” Aizawa whispered into the shell of the blondes ear.

Toshinori had curled and hunched over once Aizawa had her hands on her ass. Toshi was frail, boney, and had little to no body fat. What made up for it was lean muscle that still clung to her from years of training to be All Might.

Yagi mumbled into Aizawas neck. Aizawa pulled back and got Yagi to straighten up. The heart shape of the onesie began to slope again, rolling down Yagi's chest. This time she did little to stop it. Aizawa eyed every inch of peachy skin hungrily. It fell off her chest and then shortly after, her bony hips, leaving the blonde giant standing in front of Aizawa in all her god given glory.

“No underwear?” Aizawa asked smugly in an attempt to calm her. Toshinori smiled through her blushed and folded her arms in front of her. “No, No.” Aizawa grabbed thin forearms.” Don't try to hide yourself, not from me.”

Toshinori reluctantly lets her arms fall to her sides. She was gangly and awkward, accentuated by the lack of clothes. All hard lines and deep inset grooves. Her body was hunched and mangled. She was a beautiful walking skeleton. Aizawa noticed her hands twitching and fidgeting at her sides. She was struggling not to cover the huge disgusting tangle of scars that took up the majority of her side. She was ghastly, lanky, and to Aizawa, absolutely gorgeous.

“You're posture is still egregious I see.” Aizawa joked, trying to get the other to relax and unwind. Yagi huffed out a laugh and smiled down at the other.

“How else would you be able to kiss me?”

Aizawa smiled and reached out to trace the stressed and taut features of the woman's face. From line of her cheeks to the fullness of her lips.

“You're beautiful.”

“You're drunk.”

“Was, doesn't make anything I say less true. Besides, have I ever said differently sober?” Yagi held her tongue. The brunette was right.

Aizawa was so resolute, steadfast in everything she did, this included. Yagi would give her that much. She never lied to her. Her honesty was brutal at times. It was what she needed to hear. This time was no different. Yagi's weak heart hammered against her shallow rib cage. She could feel blood rising and getting clumped in her throat. She refused to cough, less she kill this moment. Aizawa had assured her before that she didn't mind the blood or coughing, that she understood. It didn't make it less embarrassing though.

“I...Thank you.” Yagi said quietly under her breath.

“Can...Can I touch you Aizawa?” Aizawa smiled and nodded.

Yagi loved to give more than she liked to get. Aizawa had no problem with it if it made Yagi feel good in the end. Immediately her body was assaulted by gentle too-large hands. Aizawa gasped. Yagi's hands spoke more boldly than she did. Yagi's breath hitched as she groped velvet covered breasts.

“It looks so good on you. The costume.” Aizawa smiled at the waver in her voice. “My pretty little kitten.” Yagi spoke to herself.

Aizawa’s blood rushed to the surface of her face when she heard the passionate whisper close to her ear. Yagi seemed to notice the shiver that ran through the other.

“Do you like that? Being my pretty little pet?” Toshinori’s voice dropped an octave.

She was exploitative any time she found an opening. It was both incredibly hot and infuriating at the same time.

“Not as much as you like having me as a pet~.” She would gladly play Yagi's little game.

Toshinori sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth. The action caused her throat to tighten and before she had any say she began to sputter. Aizawa held her through it. The blonde felt shame seep into her skin as she continued to cough, gagging blood up, unfortunately, unto Aizawa's chest. Yagi's eyes opened wide in silent mortification and her coughing stilled in her rising panic. Aizawa looked bemusedly at the matted down velvet and her cherry colored chest. The blood wasn't very noticeable against the black but her chest was bright and shiny with the blood. Yagi frozen still, as she stared at the others chest.

“Huh.” Aizawa murmured and tried to smear the blood off her chest.

There was something perplexing and entrancing about the morbid scene. The stark red essence against the pale white of the skin was weirdly alluring.

“I-i’m so sorry, A-aizawa, I , I-”

“Need to clean me off.”

“Huh?” Yagi looked back at Aizawa's face quizzically. The brunette smiled and placed Toshinori’s hands on her cleavage.

“Clean me off, it's your mess, your responsibility.”

Toshinori stared with shocked silence. She had to have heard that wrong. She had to. There was no way Aizawa told her to smear her own blood off her tits. Aizawa was insistent. She pushed her chest into Toshinoris hands. So she reluctantly did what she was told.

She began by smearing the soft flesh with her thumbs. Aizawa purred and leaned forward into the touch. It didn't take long to actually get the blood off. It wasn't that much.

The blonde finally had enough of the fabric standing in her way and peeled the costume down enough to reveal her breasts. They perked up at the sudden cold and Aizawa bit her lip. Yagi went back to fondle the other teacher's chest. Aizawa groaned when Yagi flicked her nipples with the long fingernails of her thumbs. She gasped and arched when the nails bit into the sensitive skin of her tits. Aizawa grunted and tossed her head back. Toshinori found herself entranced by the hard line of her throat as it tilted back.

“A-aizawa.” Toshi breathed out as she reached out and traced the line of the extended throat. Aizawa hummed.

“Yes Yagi?”

Yagi coughed into her fist and began to peel away the rest of the tight black fabric encasing her lover. Aizawa smirked and helped the hero pull off the rest of the costume.

“I thought you of all people would enjoy the costume.” Yagi laughed at the playful comment.

“Oh, I do. I-i mean, you're stunning.” Yagi ran her hand through black tresses and played with the little ears perched on top. “Especially as a cute lil cat.”

Aizawa purposely purred this time and pressed herself against the lanky body.

“Your cute little cat.” Aizawa wrapped her arms around the other.

Her skin was warm, hot. She followed the crooks and grooves of her back with deft fingers. It wound the blonde more than she would like to let on. Her body was tense, tight, her arms flailing to find a comfortable place to be.

“Toshinori.” Yagi shivers.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me.”

A burst of electricity traveled up Yagi's spine. Instinctively she pushed the brunette off and threw her on the enormous bed. Aizawa looked right at home. She sunk into the fabric, her form and figure swimming in Yagi's red comforter.

“You fit the feline part very well.”

“Meow.” Aizawa says flatly

Yagi smiles and climbs on top of the brunette. She feels a little more comfortable in Aizawa's embrace. She relaxes and settles there above the other. Her body drapes over Aizawa, a large bony canopy. The blonde ran her large hand down the muscular planes of the others stomach, stopping tantalizingly close to her goal. Aizawa growled in frustration. Toshi smiled and leaned down to kiss delicately across Aizawa's chest. She took a nipple in her mouth and gently sucked as she slid her fingers down and teased the lips of her lover's sex. Aizawa let out a gasp as she finally got the physical contact she desired.

“God, you're so perfect.” Aizawa melted at the compliment and pulled the blonde into a chaste quick kiss.

“Ditto.” A leg hiked up between Yagi's thighs suddenly. Toshi bucked and jolted. “Get on with it #1.”

Toshi dove back in to wipe away the shit eating grin with her own mouth. She kissed her languidly, her tongue being granted access immediately. Her tongue still carried the heavy tang of blood. She ran her finger through the folds of her pussy and Aizawa groaned. It didn't take long for Aizawa to get frustrated with the gentle and teasing strokes and began bucking up and growling out her dissent. Toshi relented and finally pushed a finger into the warm velvet heat of Aizawa. Aizawa broke the kiss and tipped her head back. A long moan of relief passed her spit slicked lips.

Toshinori was enraptured at the performance taking place below her. Aizawa eyes closed, her eyelashes casting a light shadow on her red cheeks, her pale naked skin began to flush and sweat.

“Do, do you want another?”

“Fuck, yes. Please Y-yagi. Your little kitty needs more.” Aizawa leaned up to purr the demand in Yagi's ear.

Toshinoris entire being shivered and she resisted the desire pin the other to the bed and fuck her stupid and dumb.

Then again…

This is Aizawa...She probably wouldn't protest to that.

Toshi smiles and climbs on top of the brunette. Toshi feels a lil more comfortable in Aizawas embrace. She relaxes and settles there. Her body drapes over Aizawa, a large human canopy of bones and muscles. Aizawa growled in frustration. Toshi smiled and leaned down to kiss delicately across Aizawa's breast. She took a nipple in her mouth and sucked and let her fingers crawl down and teased the lips of the brunettes sex. Aizawa let out a pathetic sob of infuriated desperateness. She finally got the contact she desired, but it was so fleeting and soft that it did little to sate her.

“God, you're so perfect.” Aizawa melted at the compliment and pulled the blonde into a long passionate kiss.

“Ditto.” A leg hiked up between Toshinoris thighs suddenly. The large blonde nearly buckled at the suddenness of it. “Get on with it #1.”

Toshinori dove back in to wipe away the shit eating grin with her own mouth. She kissed her languidly while running her finger through the folds of her pussy gently. It didn't take long for Aizawa to get fed up with the gentle strokes and began bucking her hips up and growling out her dissent. Toshinori relented and finally pushed a finger into the warm velvet heat of Aizawa. Aizawa broke the kiss and tipped her head back. A single moan of relief passes her spit slicked lips.

Toshinori was in awe of the woman, her eyes closed, her eyelashes casting light shadows on her red cheeks, blush rising to her vast pale and naked skin, her hips following the gentle rhythm of Toshinoris finger.

“Do, do you want another?”

“Fuck! Yes, please Yagi, your little kitty needs more.” Aizawa had leaned up to purr the answer in Yagi's ear.

Toshinores entire being shivered. She pushed her middle finger in along with her index finger. There was little resistance as the digit joined the other. Aizawa keened and moaned softly. Yagi ave a couple of experimental thrusts to get Aizawa comfortable with the new addition before spreading her fingers apart. Aizawa arched her back and forced the fingers deeper insider. Yagi leaned down and sucked a spot on Aizawa's tipped back throat and used her spare hand to fondle and grope along her body.

“H-harder.” Aizawa panted it so softly Yagi wasn't completely sure if she heard it.

She obliged of course.

She thrust her fingers deeper and faster into the brunettes dripping pussy. The sound was disgustingly lewd to Yagi's ears. Aizawa's arousal coated Toshi's fingers, a bead of it trailed down Toshinoris bony fingers and down her knuckles. The wet shclick every time her fingers went in made blood rush to her own sex. Aizawa keened loudly and gripped the comforter surrounding her.

“F-fuck, yes, more Yagi please.”

“What do you need?” Yagi was eager to please.

Aizawa hiked her leg again, tossing Toshinori forward in the process. Her hand bent awkwardly and her chest was now eye level with Aizawa. Now within reach, Aizawa grabbed what she could of Toshinori's bony ass. She pulled the blonde down roughly against her thigh. Toshinori keened and moaned at the contact, the neglect making her hyper sensitive.

“My, my.~” Yagi groaned.”You're soaking. Do you enjoy watching me that much?” Aizawa teased.

“You didn't answer my question Aizawa.” Toshinori argued pathetically.

Aizawa smiled and rolled Yagi's hips listlessly against her leg.

“Harder Yagi, I want more. I want you to bite me and mark me. I want everyone to know that All Might fucked me,” She leaned up again, “And I want that hero to cum on my thigh after she grinds against it like the sexy bitch she is.” She fell back with a soft poof from the sheets and looked up expectantly at her lover.

Toshinori was floored, of course, she had never been so turned on in her life. She wondered briefly if it was the alcohol that was making her like this. She had a goal now. She started again with a renewed vigor.

When her teeth bit into the juncture of Aizawa's throat as the brunette nearly screamed. Once she was satisfied with one area she moved onto another. She bent awkwardly, attacking Aizawas flesh like a crazed animal. She pushed her fingers in as far as they could go and tried to go as fast as she could at the awkward angle her body was at.

Aizawa slapped her ass to remind her of the other task. The taller a bit surprised she was still paying attention. She moaned at the sting and stuttered her hips shyly against Aizawas leg. She imagined she had to look ridiculous curled over her co-worker.

Aizawa squirmed as she was brutally finger-fucked by the blonde. Her blue eyes were deep and piercing and was able to see the hero loved and feared. Under the frail mass of bones and skin she could feel the strength that held up her entire career, held up the world. Aizawa shivered under the weight of it, the possessiveness of it. She could break her in half if she willed it, something about that was so thrilling. She loved it. Absolutely loved it. She kicked her leg up some more to reciprocate as much as she could in her position. She could only reach so far down the long body as she was fucked roughly. Suddenly the fingers inside her curled and her body lurched. Stars burst from behind her eyes and blinded her momentarily.

“Fuck!”

Yagi paused. She curled her fingers once again experimentally and got the same reaction. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She bit deep into Aizawa's neck and brutally fingered the spot inside her with her long blunt fingers. Aizawa screamed. Strands of her hair flitted up and about as she lost control of herself and her quirk. She clawed at the peachy skin of the other heroes back.

“Are you close Shouta?” The woman in question growled deeply at the sound of her name.

“Y-yes, Toshinori. Fuck! I'm so, so close.” The brunette whined and grappled with the woman roughly.

Yagi added another finger. The stretch was all the extra stimulus Shouta needed. Toshinori felt a bit weak and light-headed as her lovers quirk activated. Black hair flowed upward like smoke, eyes wide and red, back arched like a finely tune bow. Her stomach went tight and her muscles convulsed sporadically around her fingers as she came. The sound Aizawa made alone was enough to push Toshinori close the to the edge of her sanity.

The cloud of hair fell slowly, along with her body. Yagi retreated hand, trying her best not to over stimulated the tired body.

“How are you Aizawa?” Aizawa stared at her blankly.

Instead of answering the tired woman grabbed the blondes wrist and took the long slick fingers into her mouth. The taste was tangy but not entirely distasteful. She was more interested in the reaction. She could tell just by how tense her hand got that Toshinori was pleased.

“I'm fantastic Toshinori.” Aizawa answered smugly as she popped the fingers out of her mouth.

“O-oh, good, that's good.” Toshinori bashfully laughed as her face flushed hotly.

“You're not very good at instructions though.” The large woman perked up, fear dancing across her features.

“I said,” She grabbed the blondes hips roughly, “ I want you to cum on me.” She slapped Toshinori’s thighs, jolting the woman against her.

The blonde squeaked, her legs buckled and she fell limply onto Aizawa. Aizawa seized the opportunity and wrapped her arms around the woman and held her tight against her.

“Cmon Toshi, baby.~” Toshi keened softly and began to slowly move her hips on her own.”There you go, you're so fucking sexy baby.” Aizawa breathed hotly against her neck.

Toshinori began to shake with the sensations. She was held in a boa vice against Aizawa's hot soft chest. Every movement and breath from Shouta just added to her edging hypersensitivity. Strong hands clawed at her ass and dirty words were whispered into her neck and her ears. It was too much for Toshinori.

“You're so wet Toshinori, so fucking wet for me,” Yagi choked and gasped, “I wonder how people would react if they saw big and great All Might grinding against some nobody like some fucking slut, some nasty whore.”

Yagi coughed and bit her tongue. Blood filled her mouth and she fought valiantly to keep her mouth shut. It was hard. Toshinori was sweating bullets. She tried no to let on how much she was enjoying the demeaning slurs coming from Aizawas lips. To no avail. Yagi could never escape the ever seeing eye of the smaller woman.

“Mmm, but no one will know. Only I get to see what a dirty bitch you are, don't I?” Toshinoris hand shot up to cover her mouth, Aizawa forced her hips down harder and faster, ”Because you're my dirty bitch aren't you?~” Yagi whined, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes.

“Say it. Toshinori, tell me what you are.”

Toshinori let go of her face and groaned. Blood trickled through her teeth.

“A-aiza-”

“Say it.” Blood pooled on the bed sheets as Yagi's mouth opened in a broken cry.

“Say it Toshinori.” A hard slapped was brought down on her ass.”

“I'm, I'm, a whore.” The blonde felt dizzy.

“Whose whore?”

“Y-yours,” Toshinori answer quietly which earned another spank. Toshinori threw her head back and cried out, tears flowing in streams down her red cheeks. “Yours! I-im your dirty w-whore Sho, Shouta.”

Aizawa held her by the nape of her neck, keeping the blondes body arched as she humped Aizawa's leg like a dog in heat. She cried and sobbed as she came, choking on her own blood and saliva.

Once she stopped spasming Aizawa let go of her throat and let her fall down deftly against her body. A good couple of minutes passed in a comfortable silence.

Yagi battled with herself to say something. She had intended to seduce her co-worker and confront her on unnamed relationship. In all honesty, she had no idea what she was doing, she didn't plan this far ahead. She was sure Shouta wasn't even going to show up at all. She wanted to understand where they stood. She wanted to know what Aizawa really felt for her, if this was just emotional sex, or whatever. Somehow it always ended up like this.

“I can feel you overthinking.” Yagi scoffed and laughed quietly.

“Am I that obvious?”

“When aren't you?” Aizawa paused. “What is it?” Toshinori was quiet as she tried to sort out what she wanted, needed to say.

“...What are we?” Toshinori regretted it the moment it came out.

Aizawa was silent. Every moment that passed without answered curled Toshinoris insides in panic.

“I love you Toshinori,” The blonde lifted herself on weak arms.” You know that. And….While I don't care for what All Might has done to you, I understand and admire what she stands for, what you stand for. I don't hate All Might, I just don't want to be All Might's lover...I want to be Toshinori Yagi's lover.” Shouta held the blondes face, forehead to forehead. “I want to be with you, if you'll have me.”

Toshinori smiled brightly.

“I love you Shouta.”

Toshinori fell back into Aizawas embrace, mindless to the mess beyond her bedroom door, to the passed out heroes on her apartment floor, to the world outside her window. In a moment of their hectic horror of life, she felt peace.

She felt loved.