#i’m not functional enough for this train of thought im sorry!!!!!!!!!!!

[tyquu]

Absolutely love your prosthetic Ezra AU. Arts so wonderful and stunning (Sorry if I spell it wrong, English is not my first language)

If you don't watch Asoka show you can ignore my question, because of spoilers)))

I have a bunch of little questions. Ezra spent almost ten years in other galaxy. What is the quality of his prosthesis when he returned home? How did he deal with breakdowns without the right tools and parts?

Anyway, love your AUs and amazing art style!

Wahhh thank you so much! Glad to hear you like the AU!

So I haven’t actually finished Ahsoka (I know, im sorry 😭) but at this point I feel like I know roughly enough to take a crack at this! So here’s what I came up with;

So, Ezra’s cybernetic, as discussed in the post where I went into detail on it, requires pretty regular maintenance in order to function. Stranded on Peridea and without access to any med care/tech from the chimera, Ezra’s cybernetic would begin to go faulty within months.

At most he’d probably be able to make things just about work for three months post crash before it would have to come off. Grabbing a stick to use as a cane, there would be a few months where he has to really go back to basics, and it is not ideal.

However, Ezra would get crafty! Either with supplies he’d have stolen from the chimera or gathered on his own, and he’d end up with various self made peg legs! They aren’t perfect but with every iteration tend to get a bit better.

After staying with the Noti for a while, he’d finally have access to better materials and craftsmanship, and make a final design for his post crash prosthetic. It includes an adjustable buckle, prosthetic knee mechanism, and polished wood transtibial prostheses below the knee.

Obviously it would still need the occasional part replacement due to wear and tear as time goes on, but I don’t think it would change drastically from this point onwards, not until he gets back to lesser space of course, where I’m sure he’d go get checked out by a whole med team and possibly get his cybernetic replaced

But yeah!! That’s all I’ve got. I’m not a massive Ahsoka believer tbh, and I kinda split off in the middle to dabble a little bit on what an “Ezra and Thrawn in wild space adventures” prosthetic situation would end up being like. Especially with the possibility of introducing the ascendancy. But I decided to halt that train of thought for now so I could address the Ahsoka show specifically 🫡

Thanks again for the ask! Hope this sort of makes sense (and please do let me know if it doesn’t!) :D)

[soft4gguk]

As much as we talk about OC’s age, I find her incredibly smart and witty. There’s some immature things that she does, but with life experience, she will get there. I also LOVE how she is capable of loving someone with so much heart and very little restriction. As we get older, it’s harder to love someone this freely with a damaged past, which unfortunately for JK, is his current position. She’s definitely “soft” for Guk but who wouldn’t be? See what I did there Tessa girl ?

As for JK, I know we are hella mad, but missteps and misjudgments are not always red flags. He also needs to grow in this journey . And I’m sorry, but I’m so fucking proud of him to be able to pick up the broken pieces and still function.

As for Ira, home girl better have a good explanation. I have some theories that one of the anons mentioned already. But also, not every woman wants to be a mom and that’s OK. What’s not OK is leaving her family in the manner that she did. It may not be post partum. Could be the loss of her modeling career more or less , or just loss of her own identity.

Also can we get our Yoongs a boo? Maybe OC has a sister or cousin( I’m excited how you will introduce her fam ). From what I gather based on how she loves, I think she came from a good home . Or maybe not actually. Maybe she wasn’t held enough as a child and needs that validation. But that’s more JK coded than OC LOL.

God I love book clubbing with you guys.

And lastly, i LOVE how you respond for the asks. You’re so sweet, kind, thoughtful and receptive to our thinking. Sending love 💕

hiii <3 i don’t know why but i have a feeling i recognize every single ask you’ve sent me. but if that’s not the case it doesn’t matter because this was so insightful and fun to read. i totally agree with you about oc!! she is really smart and witty. i love writing her, i love her dialogue and her comebacks and to be able to express how she shows love by weaving her into the story. she’s truly amazing. jk lucked OUT. AND YES I LOVED THE SOFT FOR GGUK REFERENCE I GASPED!

I AM PROUD OF JK TOO!! i mean, yes. he has to do better rn, we all know that. but he’s been through so much and the fact that he’s healing and letting himself be helped by the people that love him is admirable. and i get his apprehension but yeah he needs to… you know… behave. lololol.

ira, ira, ira… oof! she’s such a complex character sometimes it amazes me how she’s not even in the story like that. i mean, we’ve only really seen her in chapter one and a couple on interludes! yet her complexity laces the story together in a way. that’s all i can say about miss ira sommersmith bc no spoilers!!

YOONGI NEEDS A BABE, you are so right. i will give him a lover, you’ve given me a great idea. IM ALSO DYING AT OC NOT BEING HELD ENOUGH AS A CHILD!! aaaa i’m so excited about u guys knowing a little bit more about her family. idk how deep i’ll go into it but it’s gonna be fun.

I LOOOOVE BOOK CLUB!!!! i’m currently on a train going through my asks and it feels very cinematic! i love answering to you guys’ questions and opinions or just chit chat. it’s so much fun. truly one of my favorite things about writing and i’m so grateful you guys respond to it the way you do <3333 ily a milli

[sunnisurrealism]

Hi everyone I just want to give an update on my well-being. Today I realized I didn’t send in a consent form to BC Pharmacare and that’s why my coverage wasn’t working, but I called, they told me what to do, and I found the form. This is good because my psychiatrist said i their was an error. So now there shouldn’t be any issues with me obtaining Person With Disability Status and the following monthly stipend and health care benefits.

I am coming to boundless realizations and I am going through a rage mode. I am quite sure I have severe adhd but I have not been assessed. Every single day is an immense struggle of being organized. I have a billion thoughts that I cannot simply get out without feeling like I have to write a whole series of books. Thus, my state is endless restlessness. I feel like Paul, but I know I’m not alone in my destiny like he kinda is. Don’t worry I’ll delete this later. Im not genuinely pissed at anyone in particular, for that would be pointless. I understand that my secret fans know I am a kind person at heart. Quite deeply. Sometimes I need to vent. It’s just that, I can’t afford to not express myself in fear of upsetting my secret fan(s) you Timothée because they cannot help me. Once I have more money and not chronic financial insecurity I won’t be constantly so on edge. I wish my adhd didn’t get in the way so much, and I wish I could go on meds for it but I can’t cuz I’m bipolar. Please never expect anything from me except mail on our birthdays. I cannot stand the pressure and it greatly impedes on my ability to function, which make it no point. I’m not pissed at you Timmy at all you are literally a baby Angel boi. I’m sad MB stopped replying but I’m assuming it was to protect me against my own manic uncontrollable thoughts and tendencies. I respect trust and understand. I’m mostly pissed I have no schedule in my life, which I will work on once I get back from my next trip to Victoria job I see the psychiatrist again. I’m pissed my life is neverending chasing appointments and the beaurocratic system of the government. I often wish I had my own personal assistant to help me because I am so so so overwhelmed I just end up ruminating my life away and failing to eat.

I know the real core of my issue, which is quite obviously, desperation for contact with My Dearest Love Felix. I constantly feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of jaded confusion without him. I’m annoyed when he doesn’t show up in my dreams when I’ve tried. I’m so god damn annoyed that I don’t know the real him and contextually speaking what his sexuality is like. I don’t know if there is hurt feelings or guilt but from that Coldplay song I assumed there was. I am really sorry, but also know I haven’t done anything wrong. it’s painful beyond comprehension in my little brain not knowing what in him is happening. I know though that he conceptually understand that he needs to be my rock, even from afar. Because my disillusionment levels are higher due to not knowing him and im not PR trained to become famous. This sounds so savage but I really really really need him to be stronger than me. At least in this way this story is gender normy. I definitely have a savior complex with him, although during May I saw myself as his Angel savior because he had been waiting so long. Sometimes Chani comforts Paul and Paul Chani. 🧜🏻‍♂️

The more that my secret fans help to accelerate collective transcendence in the name of social surrealist level global compassion IMMEDIATELY STARTING NOW. I don’t think all of us are taking this seriously enough… The more they lift the burden off me in the future. I know this sounds self-centered, but I am fully committed to the biggest dream theoretically possible on earth which if overcoming all systems of oppression. Not only because of the potential rewards, but also because it is what my heart genuinely wants to do when I become famous. Lots of hella people already align with this dream for humanity, I would say everyone actually. But we have to take it so so so much further if we are to address the climate change and i sustainability problem. And it also is the secret key to the mating crisis because emotional intelligence characteristics are evolutionarily advantageous 🌺this path of humanity expanding empathy is extremely obvious, it has always has been and forever will be. Those who don’t align just have broken hearts, which is another reason for the acceleration of compassion. The way thru is not going to change. It’s just the story of humanity.

I do not understand what is happening in the empathetic telepathy / quantum entanglement thing, but it was never going to always be good. At least it’s interesting 🍿

[akkivee]

Hello Vee!! The whole Jyushi's hidden eye discourse is very interesting, but I was thinking... What if he has heterochromia, but he's NOT related to Rei or BB? Between that and Hitoya's mole under his eye, I wonder if these are just subtle details made to create a parallelism between them and Ichiro (like in a Rosho-Samatoki way). As if Kuko, after losing Ichiro, had found a new family with people that somehow remind him of his best friend while being totally different from him.

NOW YOURE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE LMAO

i agree!!!!! it’s like!!! jyushi’s general appearance, hitoya’s lone wolf tendencies parallel ichiro!!! and tho kr is a liiiiittle slow to fully show it, kuukou’s role in nb was keeping ichiro’s heart from fully sinking into despair while ichiro did what he had to do. and that’s directly paralleled to the way he handled jyushi and hitoya’s problems in ‘harmonious cooperation’!!!!!! it’s that kinda thing y’know??? 😭😭😭

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[neko-rogers]

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship, 

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

     A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

     “It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

     You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

     Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

     But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is. 

     Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

     “Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

     In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike. 

     The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

     You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

     Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day. 

     To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

     And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

     “Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

     In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

     “It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

     “Oh okay, sure.”

     “Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

     “I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

     As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

     “I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

     Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

     You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

     You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

     “What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

     Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

     “I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

     Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

      He does not argue with you any further.

     “Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs. 

     At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

     “Okay.”

     He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

     “Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

     Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

     Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

     God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

     “Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

     As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

     “It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

     “Are you sure? I–”

     And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.” 

     “Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

     One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

     “Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

     “Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

     There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same. 

     “It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

     “I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

     Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

     “Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.” 

     In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     “I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face. 

     “Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

     “I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

     It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you. 

     “Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

     You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

     “Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

     “And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

     “Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

      Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

     “I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

     “Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

     “I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

     His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

     The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

     With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

     “Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

     Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

     It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

     You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

     You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

     Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

     He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

     The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

     “Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.” 

     As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

     Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

     As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

     When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

     At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

     The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

     You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

     This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

     Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow. 

     And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

     From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

     It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

     Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

      Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

     Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

     In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

     “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

     “Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

     You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

     “Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

     Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

     You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

     “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

     Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

     After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

     “Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

     “Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

     “Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

     You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

     “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

     Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

     “Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

     Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

     “I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

     “Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

     “Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

     “Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

     “Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

     “Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

     “Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

     “It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

     “Uhm.” You were doubtful of him. 

     However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

     “Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

     “Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

     “I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

     Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

     “Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

     An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

     Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

     If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

     True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

     At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

     In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

     “Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

     “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

     As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

     For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

     Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

     You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

     “Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

     “No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

     He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

     Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

     He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

     “I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones. 

     You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

     “Was is it?”

     “I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

     It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

     “Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

     Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

     “Peter, I–”

     “Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

     What. The. Fuck.

     “No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

     The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

     Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

     Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

     Lastly, you turned around and ran.

     You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

     Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

     Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

     You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

     “Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

     You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void. 

     From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

     Hell please let this be a nightmare.

     “What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

     Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

     Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

     “Uhh.”

     That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

     When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

     As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

     Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

     On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

     “Fuck,” you grumble.

     “That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

     “Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess. 

     “If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

     Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

     Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

     Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

     You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

     “Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”      “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

     Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

     “Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

     “We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

     No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

     “Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

     “I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

     You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

     Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

     “What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face. 

     “P-please let me go.”

     “I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate. 

     Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

     “Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

     As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

     He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

     “I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

     Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

     “I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

     You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

     “You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words. 

     “Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

     It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

     “Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper. 

     Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

     “I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

     “No–”

     He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

     “You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

     Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

     Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

     You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

     His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

     “Sorry, babe.”

     He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your  skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

     Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

     “Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

     Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

     Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

     You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

     “You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

     Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

     Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

     “Oh,” you moan.

     He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

     “I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

     Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

     You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

     “You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

     The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

     But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

     As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

     He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

     There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

     The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

     “Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

     “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

     Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

     Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

     “We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

     He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

     You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

     Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

     As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

     The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

     Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

     And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

     You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

     The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

     “I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

[darkfinch]

in honor of me having a chronic pain flare up so bad i cried during math, i want to talk abt the ot3 and how they hold/cope with their pain.

hardison is the heart of the whole thing, so ofc he tries to make things for his people when he's hurting, to sorta assure himself that he can still be useful/be worth their attention. as much as i rant abt parker and eliot, hardison 100% has inferiority issues that manifest in Making Things. so he makes stuff to subtly convince people to stay.

parker is more of the person to run from their pain. or in their case, literally hide away where no one can find them. at the very least parker will pull away from their boys and almost burrow?? like yk how foxes make tiny dens to hide in?? they do it Like That. when they're ready they'll come back out but i feel like parker needs the security of knowing they can leave.

eliot doesn't acknowledge his pain. he def ignores it until he absolutely has to or until it interferes with a mission/job. it was trained into him to ignore it and now he just does it out of habit. it's canon to me that sophie sat eliot down and made him verbally catalogue everywhere that hurt after seeing him wince just so that he could be Aware of what was going on in his body. eliot is protection-based but he never learned how to protect himself. if that makes sense???

as a spoonie i have a Lot of thoughts abt the ot3 and how they'd handle their pain plus this gives me a distraction

dorian!!!!! i'm so sorry ur having to deal with that my dude, flare-ups when you're stuck somewhere are the absolute worst.

these are SUCH good thoughts...in my heart hardison has adhd so i really like the idea of him being like..."okay well i feel like garbage so lets make somethin cool for my people :) as a distraction :) to cheer me up & not feel like im wasting time etc" except he. the. the executive function button broke and the flare up is getting worse and he cannot stop typing, uh oh, uh oh, and parker has to drag him over to the couch because it's Lie Down Time

parker dropping off the face of the earth to curl up in a comfy tiny space when they're hurting is a Lot and i am Feeling things. it makes them feel safe but also!!! this tracks and im upset about it.

also !!!!!!! yes!!!!!!!! eliot does enough first aid for maintenance (gotta keep the body Functional At All Costs) but long-term stuff gets ignored because like. whats he gonna do. take an advil? what's that gonna do? he'd need enough otc painkillers to shred his stomach lining and the problem'll still be there tomorrow so like. might as well just suck it up

there's a very good fic called Make it look like you don't mean it by andalucite where eliot's in the habit of tuning out injuries, and parker pokes him directly in his busted ribs to Draw His Attention To It and make him take care of himself.... which u may perhaps enjoy :)

as i fellow spoonie i too have the Thoughts and they are a Lot To Think About thank u for sharing <3

[thewritingstar]

Ignite

SoMa Week 2021 Day One: Burn 

Pairing: SoMa (Soul x Maka)

Fandom: Soul Eater 

Note: This is my first time participating in SoXa week! Also its my finals week so im stressed about tests and my second vaccine dose is kicking my butt but I thought instead of studying, lets write a fic. I’ve been really into soul eater recently and started the manga, so you’ll see some new fics for it here and there. Anyways, enjoy! 

@soulxmakaweek

---

Her view of love had burnt out a long time ago. She was hopeful at times to think someone could be loyal and love her for eternity but that fear of being left behind and abandoned again would destroy any hope of that. 

She had thought it was written in stone. From a young age she didn’t think about marriage, didn’t care about relationships because she wasn’t willing to risk the burn marks on her heart for just a sliver of satisfaction. There was nothing anyone could say to her to change her mind, she knew that, more importantly, he knew that. 

But slowly that mindset started to challenge her heart. The moment she asked Soul to be her partner when they were teenagers, she felt a spark. It was small and only lasted a fraction of a second when he said yes and gave her a smirk she dared not say she liked. For a moment she had forgotten about her pact, never fall in love, but it came back quickly as it left. 

She repeated those words more frequently than not. The mirror had begun to memorize the movement of her lips as she looked at herself and scolded anything that remotely resembled a romantic interest. 

Every so often a brave boy would come up to her with a card and some flowers and try his hand at Maka’s heart. She would be as kind as possible to turn them down but she never missed the way Soul’s lips turned up into a smirk. Soon she was seen as untouchable, no one could woo her or they would be too threatened by Soul to even try. 

It was a relief to Soul to see boys not trying to win over Maka but a part of him wondered if she would ever let herself fall for anyone. 

--

“Do we really have to go to this dance?” Soul grumbled as he fixed his tie for the tenth time. 

Maka sighed from the bathroom. “Yes Soul. Its our duty as successful students to make an appearance. Plus I heard that there is going to be good food.” 

Soul rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the couch. “Its been five years since we graduated, do people even care about us?” He smirked as he heard her scoff from the hallway. 

“No, Im sure no one cares about the current death weapon or the amazing person who not only made said weapon but is also one of the best teachers at the academy.” 

“Relax Maka, I’m just teasing. Now hurry up or we are gonna be late and I am not about to be scolded by Kid for that.” 

“Alright.” She huffed and finished her makeup with a swipe of lip gloss. “I’m coming. How do I look?” She asked. 

It was a simple question, one he was used to answering often with a “fine. good. who cares, lets go.” But lately he's been trying to hold in his actual thoughts. 

Maka stared at him, those olive green eyes that he became more attracted to lately. There was an untacked about chemistry that had been hovering around them for the past few years and slowly, he was loosing the battle on keeping it in place. 

Her dress was black with off the shoulder sleeves and cut off mid-thigh. Something classy and elegant but still fun to twirl in. Her heels boosted her to his eye level and her hair was up in an updo with some blonde framing her face.

“Soul?” She asked him and he cleared his throat before grabbing his keys. 

“Uh, you look perfect. We should really be going.” Way to be cool about it, he scolded himself.  

Maka grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Deep down she could feel a small spark of desire flare but quickly, she pushed it down and got into the car. 

--

The dance was nothing less than perfection. Every dish, napkin, balloon and streamer was in a proper place with symmetry as its main function. Kid apparently had spent a week decorating the place himself just to insure that it was nothing less than his standards. 

“He really out did himself, huh?” Soul commented as he looked around the room. 

“He sure did.” Maka said. 

There were a mix of students and faculty on the dance floor already. Kid was standing towards the back with Black Star while Tsubaki, Patty and Liz were chatting near them. 

“It brings me back to when you forced me to these thing when we were kids.” Soul said as they made their way across the room. 

Maka laughed. “Guess things haven’t changed much.” 

They parted ways, Soul going towards the guys and Maka joining the girls. 

“Oh Maka you look so cute!” Patty complimented her. 

Maka smiled. “You all look so good too.” 

Liz finished her drink before looking towards the boys. “I bet Soul likes this number on you.” She winked and Maka took a glass on a near by tray and gulped it down. 

“Aww don’t tease the clueless love birds.” Tsubaki giggled. 

“There nothing to tell.” Maka tried to reason but none of the girls believed her for a moment. “I’m not even his type.” She rushed out and Liz almost started to choke on her drink. 

“Are you kidding? The smartest girl in the school, no the city and she's dumb as a rock when it comes to the love sick scythe.” 

Maka swatted Liz’s arm and rolled her eyes. Behind her she heard someone clear their throat. 

“Maka?” 

She turned to see Peter, a fellow teacher who specialized in weapon training of the lower grade levels. 

“Oh hi Peter, how are you?” Maka greeted and the rest of the girls waved politely. 

“Good. I was wondering if you wanted to dance maybe?” He asked.

She expected to hear the girls snickering and giggling but instead she was met with silence and a smug cough from Liz.

“Oh, uh.” She started. 

“Come on, it will be fun.” He said and took her hand, pulling her to the dance floor without giving her a chance. 

A small squeak escaped her lips as she almost crashed into his chest. His hands found their way to her hips as he swayed to the music. Although she had always found their conversations nice and refreshing, he wasn’t the type of man that was, well, her type. 

“You know Maka, I’ve always admired you.” He said. 

She looked up at him and offered a polite smile. “Oh really?” 

“So brave and smart, makes sense that the top teacher was also the top student.” 

She laughed slightly. “Well I couldn’t have done it without my partner.” 

Peter quickly caught his frown. “Yeah, Soul. Nice dude.” 

“He likes to consider himself a ride or die.” She smiled to herself. 

Peter grunted something she couldn’t make out and spun her around. She saw Soul walking towards the balcony doors just as she came back to Peter’s front. 

“Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me, you know, like a date?” 

Maka stopped in her tracks. Date. No. She didn’t want that. She gave up on that a long time ago. 

“Look Peter, you’re a nice guy and I have a great time working with you, but I’m just not looking for anything.” 

“Oh. I just thought you and I we're getting to be good friends.” 

“Well I like chatting with you and grading stuff but I really am not into dating right now. Sorry.” 

“I get it, Soul would be jealous.” He scoffed and stepped back. “ I should have listened.” 

“Listened to what?” She demanded.

He had the audacity to smile at her. “Oh please. Ever since school, everyone knew that it was you and Soul. I just thought that since nothing has happened yet, you would be on the market.” 

That rubbed her the wrong way and her face turned sour. 

“Well sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not some slab of meat. See you on Monday.” She scoffed and walked away from him. Instead of going back to her friends, she stormed towards the balcony and greeted the cool air to help calm her down. 

“That was quick.” Soul teased and he held out his hand to help her up, making sure her dress didn’t get caught. 

“Quick enough for a dance just to ask me out and get mad when I said no.”  

Soul turned towards her. “Oh? Another ego bruised?” 

“He said he had been waiting for me to be on the market.” She spat. “Disgusting behavior.” 

Soul let out a laugh and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Men are stupid, you’re smart to not go near them.” 

“You’re not stupid, most of the time.” She mumbled. 

“The difference between me and those guys is I’ve had my ass handed to me by you. I know not to mess with the bull. Plus, I actually have respect for you and women, like a cool person should.” 

“Yeah. He then said that you would be jealous.” 

They watched the sun begin to set slowly. Sometimes Maka wondered what it would feel like to be the sun. Eternal warmth. Being a constant in peoples lives. She looked to Soul who seemed a little lost in thought. That spark coming to the surface and she wondered why she didn’t allow herself to what she wanted.

For years she had made sure that their partnership never faltered from that.  She couldn’t risk anything happening to them because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust another weapon the way she did with him. She also didn’t want to partner with anyone else. 

She enjoyed his company. Enjoyed the way that he could make her smile and feel comfortable. Most importantly, he stuck to his word. She never once felt like he would leave and when he said he was going to be there, she believed him. 

Sometimes she wished she could just scream at him and tell him that she had been in love with him for years. That her talks about marriage and love never once applied to him and if he asked, she would be his forever. 

“I think he's right.” Soul started. “Its always been you and me. I probably wouldn’t like the attention taken. Stupid, I know.” 

“Its not, because I think I know why no one else sparks my interest.” She took a breath and stared at him. Those crimson eyes that held a sense of comfort and form of love that was now crystal clear. “I don’t think anyone else comes close to how I see you. The stolen glances and walking on the eggshells of feelings I pushed down long ago. I get it now Soul. You never asked because you waited for me.” 

He let out a laugh from his chest and jumped down before offering his hand. “The moment I met you Maka? I knew we were end game, I was just hoping you saw it too.” 

When she looked at Soul, she could sense the last little flames igniting. She could have crushed them, put them out with the bottom of her shoe and never let them rise again. She could of finally removed all the pain her parents marriage caused her and not let anything happen to her heart. 

And when she thought that her idea of love was burnt to a crisp, she didn’t realize that those tiny embers had slowly grown into a burning fire. Only one person fanned the flames of her heart and she wonders why she couldn’t see it all those years ago. 

But instead she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but trust. His smile was genuine and there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he waited for her answer. Deep down the embers sparked as she took his hand and she felt the fire take over. 

She took his hand and he gently pulled her close until their noses touch and he placed a kiss on her knuckles. She could barely hear the music playing inside but it felt like a symphony was surrounding them. He began to hum a tune and stepped to lead her in their dance. 

She giggled as he twirled her. It felt freeing, it felt right, it was perfect. He brought her back to his chest and with a big smile, he looked down at her. 

“Maka?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled her close, taking her lips and kissing her just like he wanted to for as long as he could remember. Her lips were soft and he could feel the curl of her lips as she smiled against him. 

The fire within her erupted brighter than before. The sense of longing for another began to be fulfilled and any doubts she had began to shrink. Any doubts she had with Soul had been long gone. He was her constant, the person who was always there no matter what. She never had to ask or even say a word for him to be by her side. 

Her idea of love had been crushed when she had been a girl. She had thought that no one could change that. Perhaps she would spend her life not knowing what life could have been with a full heart. 

But as she held Soul close to her, it became clear that he was the one to hold the match to those embers. He was a reminder that love could exist and be devoted to another. 

He was the fire that burned in her heart and she gladly excepted the warmth. 

“Hey Soul?” She whispered against his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

She didn’t think his smile could get any bigger as he told her the same and kissed her again. 

----

I hope you enjoyed :) 

[petri808]

I1+Nalu Only one bed @thegalilea3 request

The wedding of Laxus and Mirajane Dreyar was a cozy affair attended by only close family and friends. Neither had really wanted a lavish event, so a simple morning ceremony and luncheon in a beautiful garden was perfect. The bride and groom instead funneled the majority of their budget into food, drinks, and overnight lodging for the guests at a small nearby hotel. Lucy Heartfilia was happy to see her friend finally married and settled because Mira deserved it.

Though there was one odd thing about the luncheon— assigned seating. With only 21 people including the bride and groom, it seemed unnecessary. Plus, everyone except Lucy and one other person were a couple anyways. Maybe it was to ensure everyone was accounted for, only Mira knew. As it was, it also meant Lucy was sat next to the only other single... Natsu Dragneel. It was a bit weird, but not a big deal. Natsu was her close friend after all.

The day was perfect in every regard. Clear skies, light breeze with warm sunshine, great food, and jovial company. It was a nice reprieve from Lucy’s job in the city. She missed spending time with her friends, especially Natsu and this provided a perfect couple of days to relax in the countryside. They were best friends, her unrequited high school crush until adulthood sent them onto different paths. University, then careers. The pair stayed in touch as often as possible, but both were busy in their endeavors.

“How has it been at the magazine,” Natsu questioned Lucy. “I see you’ve made it to junior editor.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “yeah, but it’s still a glorified title. I’m really just my bosses assistant.”

“It’s still a big step,” he smiled back.

“What about you?”

“They’re sending me to EMT training next month. So, I’ll be a specialized firefighter.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“I guess,” Natsu shrugged, “I prefer the action.”

Lucy chuckled, eyes crinkling in a smile, “same ‘ole Natsu.”

“Hey you two,” Mirajane waved as she walked over. “How is everything?”

“Hi Mira! Everything is perfect, you did a fantastic job planning it.”

“Aww, thanks Lucy.”

“I was surprised that Laxus finally caved.”

Lucy slapped Natsu’s chest for the comment, but if only made Mira laugh.

“I threatened to leave if he didn’t just get this over with. Anyway, the reason I came over is I just received a call from the hotel and it seems they made a mistake in my booking. Instead of 11 rooms, they only booked 10. Unfortunately... they’re also full.”

“So, what does that mean?” Natsu questioned the woman.

“Well, as singles I had booked you guys your own rooms, because the couples have theirs, which means one of you now doesn’t have one.”

“Oh. It’s okay Mira, I can try and find a room elsewhere for the night,” Lucy chimed in. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why don’t we just share it?” Natsu then suggests to Lucy. “When we check in, we’ll just ask for a room with two beds.”

“Are you sure,” both Lucy and Mira questioned at the same time.

“Why not? I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Lucy would you be okay with that?” Mira questioned her friend. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lucy looked at Natsu, then back to Mira. “I’ll be okay. I mean, he’s not a stranger to me.” She laughed although inside she was a bit nervous about sharing a room with him.

“I won’t bite,” Natsu put his hands up in defense. “I swear.”

“Weirdo!” Lucy laughed.

Mira laughed as well. “Great! I’ll let the hotel know the room will be a double occupancy. You guys enjoy the rest of party. Check in is anytime after 4pm.”

“Thanks Mira. And congratulations again!”

Everything will be fine, Lucy assured herself. It’s just Natsu. She knows Natsu. He’s harmless. Spending one night alone together won’t kill her. Just think of it as more time to catch up. Maybe find out why he’s still single. ‘Stop that!’ Lucy chided her mind. She is not asking him that kind of question! Even though she is curious... more so now after having spent the last 4 hours being reminded of what a great guy he was. All the reason she’d crushed on him, his warmth, oof, his smile...

“Wait what?!” Lucy shrieked at the hotel receptionist. “There’s no rooms with two beds?”

“I’m very sorry ma’am, but we only have a few of those and they’re all taken already.”

“What about a roll-away?”

Again the woman shook her head. “We’re just a small country inn. We don’t have those.”

“Oh... my god...” Lucy breathed out. She’d have to share a bed with Natsu?!

Speaking of the man, at that moment, he gently coaxed Lucy away from the receptionist. “We’ll make it work, don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” he assured the woman. “Just give us the keys and we’ll be on our way.”

Once inside of the hotel room, Lucy surveyed their predicament. It was a king sized bed. Great, at least it provided a decent amount of space between them, and it was a very nice room... a bit too nice compared to a standard hotel room. Strange, but maybe it was the only option left because of the full capacity. Well, guess it wasn’t such a bad thing. She could think of it as a sleepover, like the kind they would have when they were teenagers.

The first thing Lucy did was change out of her formal party attire into something comfortable. When she exited the bathroom, Natsu was lounging on the bed, looking through the pamphlets the hotel left on the nightstand.

“What’re you reading?” She questioned him.

“It’s a pretty small hotel, no services, but they do have a restaurant open for lunch and dinner... oh and a pool.”

Lucy hadn’t brought a swim suit, so the pool was out of the question. “What time is the restaurant open till?”

“Um... 9pm.”

“Good. I’m not hungry yet, but in a couple of hours I will be.”

For the rest of the evening Natsu was weirdly quiet. He talked as needed, but it almost felt to Lucy as if he was trying to avoid something. Or maybe it was all in her head. Maybe Natsu was just as nervous as she was about arraignment and was doing his best not to make it uncomfortable. Their conversations were pleasant enough, catching up on their lives, their families, any new interests they may have developed. They’d become functional members of the community in careers they enjoyed. For all intents and purposes, their lives were normal, happy on the surface.

Around 11pm the pair agreed it was time to get some shut eye. It had been a long and contented day, but tomorrow they’d return to their own lives. They chose their respective sides, turning off the light and settled into bed facing away from each other.

As Lucy lay there, she reflected on how things had turned out and of their day. The thoughts in her mind loud against the silence of the darkened room. It felt weird, knowing Natsu lay less then two feet away. Or maybe it was simply weird sleeping in a bed with another person. It had been a couple years since her last failed relationship, so she wasn’t used to this feeling anymore. She didn’t know how many minutes had passed by when she’d heard Natsu shift in the bed and his voice, soft and hesitant cut through the inky blackness.

“Do you ever think about... us Lucy?”

What does he mean? “Us?” She parroted.

“I do sometimes,” Natsu continued. “I think about, what our lives would be like if I’d grown some balls and asked you out years ago... where would we be today?”

Lucy’s breathing slowed as she processed his words. Had she thought of it? Moisture slowly filled her eyes. Yes— yes she had, many, many times over the years. Every time a relationship failed, she thought about it. But she never blamed him because she was just as guilty for not saying something sooner. Yet here he was posing such a question.

Her eyes closed as she spoke. “What are you trying to say Natsu?” She felt him turn over and shift again, then a hand pulling, coaxing her to face him. Once she’d switched sides, Lucy could see his shadowed face, oozing with regret.

“I’m saying...” Natsu reached out and took her hand. “I wish we were an us. I’m saying I want to lay like this every night next to you, to wake up beside you, come home to you. Im saying... I don’t want this to end.”

Lucy squeezed his hand back. “Idiot!” Tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I was afraid! Okay?! I thought you deserved better than me and I’d just hold you back!”

“Better?! It was always better together! All these years I’d been lonely and miserable cause no one could replace you!”

“I’m sorry!!”

A few seconds after the last words are screamed, laughter broke out from the two. Unrefined laughter at their own stupidity. They’d both been pining all these years and it took being stuck in a room together for it all to come crashing out.

“Natsu...” Lucy squeezed his hand again, “I’d really love to be an us too.”

He reached over and caressed her face. “I’ve always loved you Lucy, and I wanna make up for all the years we lost. But I have a confession to make.”

Oh, god what the hell now?! “What are you, actually married? No, divorced? Secret kids?! What?!” Lucy trembled as her euphoria threatened to crash down again.

Natsu scratched the back of his head nervously. “No! Nothing like that. The hotel didn’t make a mistake. Mira and I set this up so I could confess. I’d planned to do it earlier but couldn’t work up the nerve until I realized I was running out of time again...”

“Ohhh! Is that it?!” Lucy’s head lolled as she groaned. “You damn goof! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Im sorry!” He chuckled. “I just didn’t want you to find out later. And don’t blame Mira, it was my idea. I’ll make it all up, I promise. I’ll make you forget about those years of loneliness. I’m gonna make you so happy you—”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu?”

“Huh, yeah?”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

[thickenmyblood]

I’ll confess my sins. When I skipped the first chapters of Capri I got stuck on Laurent’s description as spoiled and similar to overripe fruit. So i was like ah. Royal Dudley Dursley with a blonde curly wig. Sounds about right. I finally saw some fan art and was like??? Who is this anemic Victorian vampire legolas persona?? Honestly tho in an alternate universe where Auguste doesn’t die and Laurent still dislikes sports but enjoys Veres sweet meats and his metabolism is only the slightest bit slower Laurent is absolutely getting chubby. And Damen. Smh he manages to be shadiest bitch while also being appreciating. Would he insult an overweight courtier who never touched a sword? Absolutely. Would he respect a meaty sumo ringer able to throw Damen around like a rag doll? Absolutely. He seems to appreciate multiple types of bodies just fine (muscled gladiators, frail slaves, sturdy vaskian women) so I feel like he’d also appreciate curvier partners as long as they. Well know how to use their body yk. Oh and what about chubby jokaste? We don’t know enough about akielon beauty standards at all. Sure slaves are probably mostly slender and frail to add to the submissive aesthetic (tho I do remember damens fixation on his female slaves big boobs, dude is far from subtle as always). But if it’s Ancient Greek inspired beauty standards jokaste most definitely rocks some tummy rolls. Either that or she’s got super toned abs from the Pilates classes she visits with the other trophy concubines. and akielon man are properly ripped but is it king-Leonidas-washboard-abs ripped?? Or more chunky functional muscle mass ripped? Perhaps akielon noble women are even trained like Spartan women and egeria was the one with the washboard abs. Also there absolutely was a time in Vere where the chubbier the pet = the wealthier it’s owner. Im so so sorry for rambling but your post got me t h i n k i n g

This is not only hilarious but also one of the best takes I’ve ever read. There is so much to unpack here that I truly don’t know where to start.

You mentioned Dudley, whose weight and fat (derogatory) tendencies are accentuated throughout the entire Harry Potter saga. I think—and this is my personal belief, it is not something anyone else has to agree with—that part of what makes Laurent interesting and redeemable to many readers has to do with the fact that he’s beautiful*. I don’t think many people would be willing to admit that, but Laurent’s pretty privilege as a fictional character is similar to Draco Malfoy’s (in fanon) or other morally grey villains/characters’. Ugly characters are harder to forgive, for some reason.

This got me thinking that had Pacat written Laurent as canonically fat, there would be a lot of stuff going on in Damen’s head that I don’t think we’d be able to excuse as easily as we excuse other (quite horrible) thoughts of his. But also, like I mentioned above, I think Laurent would have a harder time proving to some readers that he’s not Dudley, that he’s not just a stereotype of selfishness and greed and other things fatness is associated with (like childishness or an inability to take accountability for one’s actions). This would happen not because he’s fat, but rather because we see the world through Damen’s eyes. And Damen is. . . Quite opinionated.

You mentioned Damen would be judgmental of someone’s weight based on their ability to fight. So, like you pointed out, he’d make fun of a useless in battle courtier but not of a Sumo wrestler. I think in Book 1 Damen would make fun of anything and everyone, but I do understand where you’re coming from with that statement. It makes me wonder what Damen would think of people with a mobility/physical disability. Or even with learning difficulties. Or just about anyone that, according to him, doesn’t contribute to society. If you can’t be a warrior or a bed slave, and if you’re not in a condition to be a peasant and plow fields, and if you don’t have royal blood in your veins. . . I have a hard time picturing Damen being sympathetic.

Chubby Jokaste. . . I think I’ve always thought of her as a muscled woman, given the fact that Laurent can pose as her in Book 3. There’s been a lot of discourse lately on whether Laurent is muscled or a twigly twink, which I will not get into because I. . . do not know enough about gender and/or gender expression to add anything to any argument. I am also not a gay man, so I don’t know what could be considered offensive. I am also very stupid. I also do not know what the word 'twink' means anymore.

Your ask has made me think a lot about many things I’m usually not interested in. I think it would be interesting to see a chubby Laurent who still knows how to fight, who trains, who does things other than eat and hate. Canon Laurent is slender, and yet he never manages to beat Damen in combat, so I don’t think his ability to fight would suffer much from gaining some pounds. It would be interesting to see chubby Jokaste too, even though I don’t particularly enjoy the parallels between her and Laurent in canon. It would also be interesting to see. . . different types of bodies. You mentioned the Vaskian ladies, which I like a lot, but I don’t think I’ve read or come across any fics that focus on them. I think Vannes’ pet is also described as muscular and big, but I’m afraid I don’t remember the quote and I don’t own the books, so I can’t be sure.

What I liked the most was the ending of your ask, where you went on to add little worldbuilding details. Like I said yesterday, I wish canon was more detailed so we could maybe have something to hold onto when we make certain claims. It’s hard to say which parts of Damen’s thought process are entirely his (as a prince with a lot of privilege) and which ones have to do with his culture. Pacat has pointed out some to us, like the fact that Akielons don’t enjoy certain “spectacles” of the body, like pet rings or public sex, but they do enjoy staring at bodies when they’re wrestling or performing physical activities unrelated to sex. Other things remain little mysteries, in my opinion. Do all bed slaves have the same body type? Do women wrestle? How does marriage work in Akielos? What is everyone else’s opinion on fat people? I’m sure not everyone is like Damen, who we speculate cares about having a healthy body so he can fight and. . . stuff.

I am not saying Damen is the only character who, in the historic period where Captive Prince is set, would have fatphobic thoughts. If Damen was fat, Laurent would be the first one to use that against him, especially in Book 1. I just think Damen fits the fatphobic mold better because he’s described as this hypermasculine character, very into war (I think the blurb of the book calls him a warrior prince?) and manly things. Which is not to say war is inherently manly. Which is not to say Laurent isn’t manly. Which is not to say. . . whatever.

Captive Prince is a fantasy trilogy, set in. . . the past. Concepts such as fatphobia or toxic masculinity are not exactly applicable, but I think it’s fun to explore Damen’s character through his flaws. Laurent has a lot of flaws, but Damen’s are sometimes confused with virtues. In my opinion, they’re at their best when they’re being disgustingly horrible to each other.

I’m sorry for writing you a 90 paragraph response.

* He's almost universally beautiful in the Captive Prince world. Damen finds him pretty, and Torveld, and Jord (we've read that 'cute' quote where he describes Laurent at 15 to Aimeric). Not saying fat = ugly. I'm saying it seems like the 'hegemonic' body type for pretty is Laurent's, otherwise. . . why would everyone he comes in contact with comment on his pretty looks?

[meow-bebe]

Pairing: Moon Taeil x reader Genre: fluff, high school au, best friends to lovers Word count: 1.1k Warnings: swearing A/n: psst @neonun-au​ this ones for you! youve been complaining about a lack of taeil content so heres a little something to keep you from having to reread your own work for the next few days heh. oh and google docs was bugging out and i had to write this whole thing on my phone so its unedited oops

[Taeil: Meet me at the playground in fifteen minutes?]

[You: Dude it’ll be dark soon]

[Taeil: Yeah i know and im sorry]

[Taeil: Please come before i change my mind]

[You: Well at least now i have an excuse to use the super cool lights on my bike wheels]

Your tone is harsher than the meaning behind it, and you’re sure Taeil knows that. He’s your oldest friend, after all.

You’ve been through so much with him. You met him the first day of school, and you clicked immediately. He had been with you through so many things, all your years of school, the time you broke your arm in seventh grade, your first major breakup. And on top of all that, he was the first person you ever truly loved. Not that he knew that of course.

He would do anything for you, and you would do anything for him. Which is probably why you found yourself leaving the house as the sun sinks below the treeline with what could barely even be classified as an excuse left for your mom.

The sky is still light, giving the trees that certain look of darkness that they only can achieve at a very certain time. It’s your favorite time of day, and as you turn your bike onto the path through the woods that connects to the other side of your neighborhood you find that you don’t actually mind that Taeil dragged you out here. The sky is beautiful, sporting the colorful oranges and purples of sunset, and though it’s surprisingly cool for the end of July the weather is perfect.

The wind caresses your face and whistles slightly through your wheels as you pedal quickly to the elementary school. Biking has never been your favorite means of transportation, but it was easy and cheap and if you went farther than over to Taeil’s house you could always get someone to drive you. Usually there would be a lot more complaining involved, but tonight you feel a strange peace amongst the trees despite your heaving breaths.

You catch sight of the pole which may or may not have once had a sign on it that indicates the exit from the path. From there it’s just a short ride down the street and around the corner before the school—and more importantly the playground—rises up before you. The gate has been left open, presumably by Taeil taking the same path, and as you ride through you spot his bike abandoned by the tree he always leaves it by. Taeil sits on the swingset, moving back and forth only slightly. He stares off in the other direction, and he seems nervous. You’ve known him too long and too well to not recognize the way that he obviously wants to fidget but shoves it down in order to remain mostly still.

“Hey!” you call out as you hop off your bike and set it down next to Taeil’s. He whips his head around in surprise and returns his own greeting.

“So what was so urgent that you called me out here to talk now?” you ask as you meander over to the swingset and take a seat on the swing next to Taeil, immediatelykicking at the ground to give yourself a bit of momentum. The nervousness that you detected in his body language a moment before surges up, swelling into his face as he gulps and twists his fingers together.

"Oh, nothing much. How're you?" His words are almost too calm, and he still refuses to meet your eye.

"'Nothing much'?" Your disbelief is obvious as you quirk an eyebrow upward.

"Just answer the question," Taeil mumbles.

You roll your eyes, slowly kicking your legs back and forth. The air has begun to chill slightly, and goosebumps begin to slowly form on your exposed skin. "Oh you know. Still going through constant internal turmoil over college. Go to college with my best friend and not have to separate myself from you or go to the best college for my major. Same old same old. You?"

"I'm in love with you," Taeil blurts out.

Your eyes pop open like a cartoon character's and you just barely manage to stop yourself from falling off your swing in surprise. "Holy fuck."

Silence falls between you as you try to gather your wits enough to form a sentence and Taeil sits statue still. The chorus of cicadas and the wind in the trees hums in the background as your surprise slowly fades enough for you to regain brain function.

"This is nothing much—"

"I understand if you—"

You speak at the same time but quickly cut off, each chuckling slightly. He was still Taeil, and you were still his best friend.

"You go first," you say with a slight smile that Taeil returns, if with slightly less enthusiasm.

"I get it if this makes you uncomfortable," he begins, taking a big breath. "Trust me, it weird me out just as much." You roll your eyes good naturedly and open your mouth to respond but Taeil barrels on like a runaway train. "I'm sorry this is so sudden but I needed to tell you and you've probably going to a different college than me and that's terrifying on it's own but the thought of you never knowing—"

"Taeil," you say, setting a hand on his shoulder, "do yourself a favor and actually breathe." He nods vigorously and wheezes in a breath, looking very much like he was about to continue his crazed monologue. Unfortunately, you couldnt hold yourself together anymore and burst out laughing. "You dumbass!" You finally cackle  "I love you too!"

Now its Taeil's turn to almost fall over in surprise. "What?" You've never heard so much shock in his voice and for half a second you wonder if perhaps you just caused his brain to disintegrate. "Since when?"

You count backwards in your head, finally coming to the right year. "Eighth grade."

"Eighth grade?" He demands. "You mean we could have been dating this whole time?"

You snort out a laugh, "I don't know about that, anyone in their right mind would've dumped tenth grade you."

Taeil grimaces. "Good point."

"But hey," you say, a grin taking over you face, "others may arise but this solves one problem."

"Which is?" Taeil asks, fingers brushing across yours where they grip the chain suspending you from the swing set. You take his hand and swing your conjoined fingers back and forth between you. He offers you a small smile, happiness glowing on his face.

"I know which college I'm going to.”

@kpopscape​ @neowritingsnet​ @nct-writers​

[i-am-ironic]

Kiss the girl

This didn't go the way I was expecting but I still like it. It does get a little spicy but not smut I promise.(im pretty sure this isn't smut because they don't actually do the 'devils tango')Enjoy!

**********

Robin looked over at the girl by his side, her dark hair glistening in the moonlight. He and ladybug had been teamed up to patrol for months. It was a slow night and there hadn't been more then a few petty thieves and a lady who was lost. Ladybug had been training with the batfam for the whole summer and was going to continue for the rest of the year. She didn't want to say too much about her civilian identity but Robin knew she was going to gatham university and that her boyfriend of two years had just broken up with her. He also knew he had a crush on her.

"Robin, you who, are you there?"

"Yeah! sorry," he said blushing "I guess I just spaced out. What did you need?"

"I was just saying I should have brought my sckech book, the sky is beautiful tonight."

"It really is," he said turning back toward the city. The two of them had a wonderful view from the building they were sitting on. The only taller building was Wayne enterprises behind them.

"What have you been drawing recently?" He questioned turning back to ladybug.

"Oh y-you know, this and that. Just things I see a lot." She hummed," I'm working on drawing people more so they look realistic when I'm drawing the outfits."

"Im sure they are beautiful. I've been working on people too I just can't get the face right." He said looking at her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. His face felt hot as he looked back at her eyes and noticed they were on his lips. She blushed and looked away.

That was when the humming started. Ladybug didn't have a earpiece so she couldn't hear what his brothers where doing.

Red hood started, "now you see her,"

Red Robin giggled before continuing, "sitting there across the way."

Nightwing caught on pretty quick "she don't got a lot to say but there's something about her."

Red Hood picked up,"and you don't know why but your Dying to try you wanna,"

The three of them harmonized, "Kiss the girl."

"Yes you want her," red Robin sang trying his best Jamaican accent.

"Look at her you know you do," Nightwing continued, "its possible she wants you too,"

Red Hood, a surprisingly good singer, kept it going, "there is one way to ask her, it don't take a word not a single word, go on and,"

All three, "kiss the girl!"

"Enough!" Robin yelled at his brothers. As they were singing he had been getting redder and redder. "Your accents were all terrible, you are a disgrace to this family."

"No that's Mulan."

Robin turned off his ear peace.

"What was that about?" Ladybug asked.

"N-nothing." Damn he was stammering, he wasn't supposed to stammer. He was a Wayne, he didn't get flustered over his brothers teasing him about some girl.

"Really it didn't sound like nothing." She said Concerned. Oh, she couldn't look at him with those big blue eyes and expect him to be able to function normally. That just wasn't fair.

Then it hit him, what if he had the same effect on her that she did on him. He decided to test that theory. He slowly moved his had from his lap over to her hand. When he placed his had on top of hers she whipped her head around to look at their hands. She stared for a moment before turning her hand over and interlocking her fingers with his. She was almost as red as her sute.

She was holding his hand. SHE IS HOLDING MY HAND! Oh what do I do?! She is blushing! Dose this mean she likes me????? Oh no now what???? Am I supposed to kiss her??? STAY CALM WAYNE!! STAY %>^~ING CALM!!!

He was not staying calm, he was in fact panicking. As was Ladybug. They were a mess, but a cute mess. Both bright freaking red holding hands looking over the gatham sky.

Robin looked at Ladybug's face, her blue eyes that shown in the moonlight, her bright pink cheeks that matched her lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. Would she taste like the vanilla she always smelled like? Would she smile and run her fingers through his hair? Would she pull him closer then they had ever been before?

He hadn't noticed how close he had gotten to her or that she was leaning closer her mouth slightly open begging him to kiss her.

Then her yo-yo started ringing braking the two of them out of their trance, their faces even brighter red then before. Ladybug pulled her hand from his as her answered the call.

"H-hello.......no he must have turned it off.......ok we will be right there." She looked back at Robin the blush that had disappeared from her cheeks returned full force when she saw him. "T-there is a bank robbery, batman and red Robin need us."

By the time they arrived batman had already taken out the leader and two of the goons. Red Robin was helping the hostages escape, why were people at the bank at 2 in the morning Robin may never know, but he helped his brother and ladybug took out three goons tying them up after.

"Great work team!" Red Robin said over the coms as batman spoke to the police. "There were no casualties, and we got that done in record time."

"Thats great," Robin said sarcastically, "now can we go, we still have to finish patrol." They didn't really need to finish patrol but he wanted to get out of there and continue whatever was happening with ladybug earlier.

Once they were given the all clear the two of them when to Wayne tower to talk.

"So..." ladybug said awkwardly, "um... you almost kissed me?"

Robin blushed, "yes I guess I did.....why did you not want me to?"

"No no I did want you to! I mean I won't mind. I mean um well I-I I've kinda liked you for a really long time and you were holding my hand and I just thought and I shouldn't have assumed and I'm sorry but you were leaning in and...I'm sorry."

He stared at her, she wanted to kiss him. SHE WANTED TO KISS HIM! SHE LIKED HIM!!!! THIS WAS GREAT NEWS!!! wait, she was apologizing? why was she apologizing? Oh, she didn't know he liked her. She was just sitting there not looking at him. He decided to do something impulsive.

He took her chin turned it toward himself and leaned forward giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. When their lips met it was exactly how he imagined it, he cradled the back of her neck pulling her closer as she ran her fingers through his hair. She pulled away for a moment to swing her legs around him so she was sitting on his lap her ankles crossed behind his back. He put one arm around her waist pulling her even closer to himself. As they continued he moved them to the floor of the roof and lay down pulling her on top of him. His hands running up and down her sides. His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek and then her neck. She groaned at the contact and pulled his hair harder which made him groan. He eventually moved back to her mouth.

When they finally broke apart they were both panting for air. He sat up she was still on top of him.

"So.... I guess you do like me after all." She said smiling at him.

He barked out a laugh. "After that would you have any doubts. So, now what?

"What do you mean?"

"Well is this going to be a one time thing or are we going to try dating? Because it's going to be kind of hard to go in dates with our masks on."

"Well I was sworn to secrecy I am physically unable to tell you my name. But I can give you this," she pulled a bracelet from her yo-yo, "i have one just like it and they are the only ones that look like this in the world, so if you happen to see me with one you can ask me out then."

He grinned, "so all I have to do is find a girl with that bracelet and it will be you?"

"Yep and when you ask me out ill say 'is this about the night on the roof?' And you'll know its me."

"Sounds great."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was incredibly tired he hadn't been able to sleep because of the kiss. It kept replaying in his mind. But he had a fitting for a suit later so he had to get up. The girl making his sute was named marinette, she had been quite nice the first time they met. She was already in the living room with his brothers and father when he walked in. Everything seemed normal until he noticed the bracelet on her wrist. That means.... oh $#*! This was the same girl he had been making out with last night. Yep there was the hikky he had given her. Just his luck.

****************

I wanted to try to write something more spicy, I think this turned out pretty good to be honest. Anyway I'm going through some writers block and I think this helped. Crap I have to be up in 7 hours and I still have to edit this. Yay.

[pinkykitten]

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ] 

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time. 

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath. 

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost. 

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan. 

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up. 

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do. 

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake. 

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall. 

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done. 

The titans were called. 

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees. 

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before. 

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves. 

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall. 

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud. 

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke. 

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches. 

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up. 

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes. 

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers. 

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie. 

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life. 

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom. 

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer. 

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain. 

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen. 

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps. 

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls. 

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do. 

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training. 

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

[fishfarmfrankie]

Bakusquad as types of Relationships

The type of romantic relationship the bakusquad would have with their s/o(You)

+ Your relationships theme song bc why not

Trigger Warnings; none :)

feat. Sero, Bakugou, Denki, Kirishima and Mina 💞💕💘💝💖

Sero Hanta

Summer Fling

-Sero give me big summer energy. 

-I imagine him being that relationship that randomly sparks after you two spot each other at a beachside bar. You instantly hit it off and fall hard. 

-It’s an even combination of Lust and Love, as well as solid companionship.

-The two of you just seem to click so fast, as if you were soulmates. And since it’s the summer holidays, you two have all the free time you could ever want. 

-You spend every available minute with Sero as you two enjoy each others company, sharing ice cream, going surfing, gate crashing random parties together, getting high and just sharing the vibes. You can’t get enough of each other. 

-Kiri, Denki and Bakugou would be so confused yet surprised at how Sero was able to even approach you. And then how he managed to convince you to go out with him, only ten minutes after meeting you? HE’S SMOOTH ASF (And was probably a bit drunk 😳)

-But as Summer ends, you learn that Sero is only spending the summer holidays in your region. You follow Sero to the plane and he offers to have you go with him, but you can’t. So, as the sunsets, you watch as your summer fling Sero flies away on the last day of Summer vacation.

-Though Sero never officially broke it off with you, you think this is because it was obvious enough, but this is actually because Sero was hoping to see you again next year 🥺🏖

-Then when you try to tell all your friends about your hot summer fling no one believes you 😔

Relationship Theme song: Borderline by Tame Impala, Pineapple Skies by Miguel

~~

Denki Kaminari

Partners in Crime

-Okay so you two were chaotic enough without being a couple but THEN THE TWO CRAZIEST CRACKHEADS HAD TO GET TOGETHER AND CAUSE PURE ANARCHY AMONG EVERY STREET YOU ROAM HUH?

-Students  s h u d d e r  when they see you two roaming the halls at school. Like you’re the couple that has a reputation for causing chaos wherever you go. Whether it be stupid dares or crazy pranks you try to pull on class 1-A. UA can never get a break with you two around.

-You two are connected on a different level I swear. Like you two would be hanging out with the gang and Denki just makes a snort sound and next minute you’re both having a full conversation in rat language🙄

- Ngl there’s a lot of lust in this one 👀, the second your parents’ shoes leave the front door Denki is right there in your bed O-O

-lemme just say ‘horny weebs’. That is all good day.

-The worst thing about this is you two always seem to be together. Like Denki loves keeping you around to show you off. If you’re not physically with him, he’s showing people his phone’s lock screen and background (Which is a photo of you)

-omfg y’all tried to start up your own little podcast one time but you found that you guys were literally just laughing for 40 minutes straight.

Relationship Theme Song: Greek Tragedy by the wombats (Oliver nelson remix), Touch You (The Yarichin Bitch club theme song lmao)~

~~

Bakugou Katsuki

Secret Forbidden love/Star crossed lovers

-Okok I know a lot of y’all think that Bakugou would like to show you off and I think this is true to a certain extent, like I feel like a long period of time he would want to keep the relationship a secret in fear of being ridiculed. 

-This relationship would be filled with love, you being the only one Bakugou will obey ;)

-You two would always play little games where you try to steal kisses from each other while no one is looking. Of course no one notices.

-!Secret dates! Constantly trying to search for the most secluded cafes around. There would be tons of little moments where Bakugou spots someone like Sero and is forced to hide lol

-You’re the only one who sees Bakubabe’s soft side 🥺

-Though because no one knows you’re in a relationship you do get quite a lot of people flirting with you and this fucks Bakugou off to the max.

-One day some person straight up tries to kiss you and Bakugou rips them away from you and fuckin socks him, drop kicks em’ like a rugby ball. The person is splayed on the floor, blood nose, and shocked as all fuck, stuttering; “What the hell? what’s your problem man!”

-Bakugou is like; “STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM! THEY’RE MINE AND ONLY MINE AND I’M SICK OF FUCKSTICK EXTRAS LIKE YOU THINKING YOU EVEN HAVE A CHANCE WITH MY S/O!”

-No one saw that coming 🤭

Relationship Theme Song: Sofia by Clairo, Asshole by hooligan chase, LOOK AT ME! by xxxtentacion (im sorry yall 😭)

~~

Kirishima Ejirou

Power couple

-Kirishima would honestly be the best boyfriend ever. 

-Everyone shipped you two together, but was surprised when he actually asked you out, AND you said yes. 

-You two are the power duo that can do anything together. Dude when y’all are teamed up in practice fights for training no one can beat you two. Not even Bakugou. UNSTOPPABLE POWER.

-fucking dates at they gym🙄 nah but kiri’s dates are always full of adventures, like rock climbing (( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡• ))

-There is a lot of respect here, and a lot of support. Kirishima feels comfortable sharing all his insecurities about his quirk and ‘manliness’ with you, of course, he’s there for you whenever you need. Very dependable. THIS IS WHY YALL ARE SO STRONG 💪👹

-We love a functionally healthy toxicity free relationship💫🤠

-You two do tend to rival each other a lot too. Since you’re both complete equals on all levels, it’s always uncertain on who will win when you two wrestle, or even when you do take the exams. It also gives you both motivation to work harder.

-With this combined power You and Kirishima possess, you sort of become the parents of class 1-A. Helping keep students motivated n stuff. Even Tenya Iida has trouble contesting your guys’ authority over the class. 

Relationship Theme Song:  Trip by Ella Mai including Duan Yi, Sunflower by Rex Orange County

~~

Ashido Mina

Opposites attract

-Ok I’m sorry if this isn’t you but if you like Mina then you’re likely to be her opposite. I’m talking quiet kid, more on the masculine side/Tomboy-ish, you’re probably like a fucking emo (Don’t worry tho I like Mina too 😌)

-Fr though you two are fashion icons, the most aesthetic couple either.

-Mina likes to drag you to all her little social events, and although they can be tiring, being with her helped you come out of your shell a lot.

-tbh because Mina is so friendly and lowkey touchy with everyone no one even thought y’all were a couple. Like you guys didn’t really act that different to before your were a couple because she would always flirt with you before hand too.

-Best thing is you guys don’t even tell people you’re a couple now. So they get such a shock when you two start joking about kissing and then actually kiss. You two did this to Denki one time and he just short circuited. Though you have a suspicion it was more because he was turned on than from being shocked.

-Also y’all lowkey freaky as hell. Freaky as fuck. Mina brings out a different side to you ;)

Relationship Theme Song: Pretty girl by Clairo, Say So by Doja Cat 

~~~

Ayo take a shot every time I used the word ‘ Y’all ‘

[worstloki]

Part 3

Fury: I cannot believe the Avengers No. 1 unattainable criminal right now is a seventeen-year-old twink Clint: I can’t believe you’re calling Loki a twink Tony: I can’t believe he's been the legal godparent of kids his own age for months and I didn't realise Steve: You didn’t get him removed? I thought you made Rhodey their legal godparents instead?? Tony: nah I removed Thor Natasha: ?? why would anyone do that ?? Fury, having a breakdown: we nearly lost New York and the entire world to a 16-year-old twink with daddy issues Clint: yoU just did it aGAIN- Tony, the only actual Avenger who knows Loki isn’t actually evil™: heY! Daddy issues are a serious thing! Don’t make fun of the guy for having a crisis and finding out his life was a lie and he’d faced over a millennium of abusive environment for nothing!  Avengers: are you… defending Loki… the megalomaniac WAR CRIMINAL who turned every SHIELD facility into ice cream earlier today…? Tony, hands up in surrender: I’m saying maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to judge the guy. I wouldn't be able to guess what but maybe he had an ulterior reason for the New York fiasco? His normal stuff is usually harmless.  Avengers: ... Tony: What? It could’ve been much worse. Strange, rolling his eyes: Yes, at least it wasn’t Stark Raving Hazelnuts Loki, who has been standing at the back listening to the entire conversation: That flavour is way too chalky to suit SHIELD anyways [everyone turns to Loki with their weapons ready, except Tony of course] Loki, raising his hands in surrender: what? A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge is way better, and its green, and for some reason they didn’t have a Loki flavour so that was the next best option-

---

Loki: hey Morgan what would you say if i offered you an officially evil part-time job with decent pay and extremely good evil workplace benefits? Morgan: do you offer evil dental? Loki: of course?? we also have A-Grade coffee 24/7 because top class extremely good evil deserves only the best Morgan: Excellent! I look forward to working with your evil team and being a part of your nefarious schemes and plots in future Loki: Thank you. Tomorrow we replace all Tony's vehicles with incredibly realistic wax models. Morgan: ...including the jets? Loki, scoffing: what kind of amateur villains would we be if we left his jets, boats, bikes and single vintage helicopter untouched Tony: its 4am can you maybe not have this conversation right next to me in my own workshop?!

---

Tony: I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WOULD REPLACE THEM WITH WAX MODELS Morgan: What kind of low-grade predictable villainous evil doers would we be if we did what we said we would Tony: oh $#!^ now you're speaking like him too Loki, cutting his shoulder to reveal cake: Just so you know, it wasn’t JUST the vehicles ;)

---

Peter: *following loki around with a notepad* Loki: Terribly sorry if you mind but he's MY intern now. Tony: You don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you’re doing, do you? Loki: I don’t think anything I’ve ever done is wrong Peter:  *avidly taking notes and nodding along*

---

T’challa: I cant believe you filed an application for ‘time off’ Shuri: I NEED at least 3 hours a week reserved specifically for training if I want to keep my part-time job T’challa: you don’t NEED a job! You make up 90% of Wakanda’s research and development departments! Your technology work IS a job! Shuri: yeah well my ACTUAL job is fun and has proper work benefits and I simply must empty the time blocks I specified for it! You wouldn’t stop me from meeting with Peter and Morgan would you? They ARE, legally and spiritually speaking, my siblings, brother :) T’challa: what job could you have that would need you reminding me that a mischief deity adopted you before telling me what the job actually is Shuri: The official position is called Secretary of Evil but that’s only for the probationary 2 week period and I’m allowed to request a name change if I think of anything better T’challa: T’challa: you are working as a SECRETARY?! Shuri: The job pays well, Brother, T'challa:  T'challa: mother will be so disappointed

---

Scott: I can’t believe you did that Maggie: I didn’t know he was a supervillain! OBVIOUSLY! Scott: how would you noT KNOW! He wears nothing buT LEATHER and BELTS and GREEN BOOTS AND- Maggie: I needed someone to watch her and she showed up in pink sweatpants and a black tank top and was charging a decent rate Scott: Scott: are you sure their name was loki

---

Clint: you told me it was a ‘family gathering’! Tony: yeah, it is, and the avengers are family Clint, pointing at Loki: so what’s the twink doing here and why are MY kids along with every other person here who is under drinking age clinging to him like a frickin’ koala bear Tony: morgan wanted to get her ‘the floor is lava’ badge and loki was the only one immune to the lava so they jumped him - and he enjoyed walking around covered in them way more than he should have -  and also loki is legally peter and morgan and harley and shuri’s godparent so he’s allowed to be here on more of a basis than anyone else here at this point Clint: There was LAVA near MY KIDS?! Tony: no of course not – it was FAKE lava that just looked and functioned like real lava Clint: im taking them all home Tony: good luck convincing them not to want another playdate Clint: this isn’t a joke Tony Tony: I’m serious. Good luck. The kids love him, and you’ll need all the luck you can get if you want them to ever root for the side of good instead of wherever-loki-is-at instead. 

---

Pepper: *watching the news* Pepper: oh hey the Avengers are on Peter, running into the room: woW NICE Pepper: wtf why is Hulk wearing giant boxing gloves Peter: Language! Pepper: is Steve's shield padded?! Peter: i don’t remember that being normal Pepper: did most of the Avengers just ditch Steve? Why’re they leaving Peter: I guess the danger must be over? Pepper: WHAT is going ON out there today Peter: I think Loki had planned an attack today so maybe he did it as a joke Pepper: oh they're facing Loki yeah okay that explains it Peter: Loki always does the funniest things of course he baby-proofed all the Avenger's gear! Classic Loki! :D

-meanwhile-

Captain America, tears streaming down his face: pl,,ease, loki,, stop,t his, I cant hit ,,a child Loki: Look at you, the American icon, unable to save all these innocent people from having their skin turn into primary colours, all because you are TOO AFRAID to fight me! Captain America: I’m a national icon, not a good soldier but a good man, I will do whatever it takes to keep innocents safe, but I can NOT beat up someone who isn’t even legal enough to vote Loki: I was around causing chaos before this ‘voting’ was even invented! And I’ll NEVER legally vote even if I could!! mwahahAHAHA- Falcon, to Bucky in the background: How did we not realise he was a teen, all his comebacks are ‘no u’ and ‘uno reverse card’ and ‘look over there!’ Bucky, to Falcon: I don’t know but I really really want to know where he gets his outfits from Falcon: if it means I’ll be seeing you geared up in leather again then I want to know where he gets his outfits from too ;‘) Thor: I think my brother makes his own outfits Loki, still tormenting Captain America: *SISTER Thor: ah, my bad Captain America, crying x2: wait does this mean I’ve been lobbing my shield at not just a child, but I’ve been misgendering them while doing it?! Loki: only occasionally and I don’t blame you that was on me for monologuing too long, really— Captain America, taking off the helmet: nope I’m done Loki: what are you doing Steve, handing Sam the shield: It’s yours. Enjoy. Sam: woah woah woah what’re you doing you cant retire just like that  Steve, unzipping his suit to reveal American flag boxers: watch me Bucky to Sam: hello new best friend Sam, realising that Cap and Bucky are a duo: oh no no no STEVE is your best friend Bucky: he hasn’t been my ‘best friend’ since I saw him with the American flag splayed over his butt Loki, holding his hand out for Sam to shake: Hello there new Captain America its nice to meet you formally, my name is Loki and yes I’m a child but I’m actually 1075 but that is irrelevant if I’m causing trouble and looking for a fight, I’m also genderfluid so yes sometimes my pronouns will be different but I’ll be sure to inform you if it happens Sam: what are you doing Loki: I’m… formally introducing myself Sam: Sam: why?? Loki, blinking to hide that he’s getting teary eyed: well, the last national icon I didn’t do this with ditched me because I didn’t Bucky, a trained assassin, who isn’t a fool: *hugs loki* that wasn’t your fault steve just likes to carry the stupid with him Loki: thanks Bucky: is this a bad time to ask where you get your clothes from…? Loki: I make them Bucky: oh. Well $#!^. Loki, sniffing: if you join the dark side I’ll make you some too Bucky, immediately: done. Sam: JAmES Bucky deadpan: Yes, Samuel, what is it that troubles you, my new arch nemesis? 

---

Sam: HE TOOK BUCKY Natasha: What do you mean ‘he took bucky’ he’s standing right next to you Sam: He’s “infiltrating the enemy” Natasha: *lifts an eyebrow and looks to Bucky* Bucky: It’s true. My loyalties lie elsewhere now. Natasha: ??? Bucky: note to self – unexpected outcomes confuse the black widow. Natasha: how did this happen?? Sam: he SOLD himself out to the ENEMY Natasha: well when you say it like THAT ;) — Bucky: I think friendship is a decent price to pay for decent clothing Natasha: ??? Sam: oh also I’m Captain America now because Steve broke down and quit Natasha: ?!?!?!

---

Peter, entering the room and high-fiving Loki: I heard you got Mr. Bucky to switch teams! Loki: well, my fashion skills ARE legendary Tony, under his breath: he’s not even trying and he’s gotten every kid and the freaking winter soldier on his side and I am so so grateful he isn’t actually TRYING to make everyone go bad

---

Bucky: we’ve been over this Steve, Loki is young but he’s also over a thousand years old Steve: I was beating up a KID, Bucky, a kid who was SMALLER and WEAKER than everyone else where he lived but wouldn’t EVER turn down a FIGHT for what he BELIEVES IN and he was probably BULLIED and I wanted the guy DEAD, Bucky– Bucky: don’t forget the genderfluidity thing Steve: he said it wasn’t my fault but I should’ve asked Thor after he referred to Loki as ‘she’ instead of thinking he’d made a mistake and I just can’t – he isn’t even old enough to DRIVE or VOTE or DRINK or BUY A KNIFE or -- Bucky, holding Steve and patting his back: hey now, there, there, it’ll be okay, Bucky: *gives Loki a thumbs up as he sits on the couch with popcorn and watches Steve be miserable*

---

Loki: We need to get through this locked door. Tony, quick, give me your card! Tony, handing the card over: Take it! Loki, pocketing it: Thanks! Morgan, fire at the door Morgan: *pulls out an iron man gauntlet painted green and gold* Tony: hOW COULD you deface YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT with GREEN Morgan: MINE is still being used as a paperweight. This is one of YOUR gauntlets.   Tony, under his breath: maybe it’s not too late to burn the physical evidence and hack Loki’s name off the digital copies of the adoption forms Loki, whispering back: oh its definitely too late. I’m already on your christmas card and everything.

[amelialincoln]

Electric Love pt2

sorry im working on an amelink fic but its hard cause i have little to motivate me with. soooo here's marecal

     They both awoke to the sound of an alarm blaring continuously over their heads. This happened on occasion and as terrifying as the situation was, the couple had almost gotten used to it. After the war the idea of democracy had been popular among the regions. With red and silver becoming equal, the solution had seemed obvious. But it would be wrong to say that the idea of everyone living in harmony was accepted by all. It was mostly the silvers that had an issue with it all, still craving the power they once had maintained. The small rebellion had formed about a year after the war, and raids had been happening throughout the palace almost every month since then. It was rare that anyone would come near their apartment but Cal had built an underground bunker just in case. The raids never resulted in much, other than terrifying those who lived there. Occasionally, they’d take a staff member or government official but eventually would set them free after their pleas went unanswered. 

Mare stumbled out of their bed, still half asleep. However, Cal tugged at her arm, wide awake. He’d already secured his bracelets and a dim flame lit up their bedroom. He couldn’t help but worry that since word had gotten around about Mare’s pregnancy, they may somehow be a target. To which Mare had responded, days earlier, that no silver in their right mind would come anywhere near the two of them, in fear for their lives.

“Feeling nauseous?” He asked as she gripped the stair railing and swayed softly.

“When am I not,” she grumbled, following him down into the blackness. Cal sighed with relief as he bolted the door and pulled the string to an overhead light. The concrete room contained a double bed, a cabinet full of snacks and a pathetic sink that sat in the corner, almost always dripping. Mare crawled into the mess of duvet and leaned back against the bed frame. She was usually unfazed by the break-ins and normally slept through the entire event, unlike Cal who usually spent the night watching the door and allowing flames to creep across his fingertips. He glanced over to find her hands pressed against the small bump that had formed on her midsection earlier that week. Her first trimester was exhausting her and Cal had never felt more helpless.

“You should rest,” he noted. “Practice starts at six tomorrow because of the holiday on Monday.” He knew that despite tonight’s events there was no way that Mare would miss even an hour of training.

“I would lie down but I’m trying really hard to not throw up,” she responded slowly. Mare wasn’t known as a ray of sunshine when functioning on little sleep. “I would appreciate it if you could get your child to give me a break, Tiberias.” She tried to sound bitter but he could hear the fragility in her voice.

“Do you want the plain crackers? Those usually help,” he suggested.

“Do we have any down here?” 

“No.” He expected her to yell at him but instead she leaned back in exhaustion. 

“Can you just come sit with me?” Cal glanced over at her apprehensively, not wanting to leave his position by the door. Mare rolled her eyes at his hesitation.“Cal, for fucksake it’s absolutely fine--” As if on cue the sound of their apartment door banging open echoed through the flat. Mare fell silent as the sound of moving furniture filled their ears. Someone was looking for them. Anxiety raged inside her and lightning sparked on her palms, growing brighter by the second.

“Mare, control it,” Cal hissed. Her ability was becoming more and more unpredictable as her pregnancy went on, to the point where they were in the midst of getting a necklace made out of silent stone for moments like these. Cal couldn’t help but wish they’d had it by now.

“I can’t,” her voice wavered. The light above them brightened immensely before popping and surrounding them in blackness. Light bulb glass reflected red as Cal’s flames dimly lit the room. Mare silently prayed that her purple sparks would not reappear. “Do you hear that?” She asked, as a familiar voice called out to them, calling their names over and over. “It’s Gisa!” She moved to the side of the bed

“No Mare, it’s not.” Cal’s eyes darkened, willing her to lie back down. 

“Cal, I think I would know my own sister--” 

“It’s a voice manipulator, it’s trying to convince us to come out.”

“How do you know--” She wanted nothing more than to answer the voice calling out to her. 

“Because I hear Maven,” Cal hissed, his eyes begging her to be quiet. Mare had never wanted to throw up more. She finally processed the idea of silvers rummaging through their apartment, playing tricks on their minds. Suddenly the situation was more nauseating than the smell of Cal’s green smoothies he’d been forcing her to drink lately. He noticed her gag and shot her a look of sympathy. Eventually the calling diminished and they heard less and less footsteps above, though neither of them wanted to go back upstairs. Eventually Mare fell asleep but Cal couldn’t bring himself to leave the door, waiting for the voice of his brother to return.

She awoke the next morning to find Cal missing from the bunker. A handwritten note was left on her pillow.  

Mare,

Taking the kids up the mountain today. Don’t try and follow us, we'll be back soon enough. Rest and please just be safe.

Love, Cal

Classic. She threw her head back in frustration. Despite the break-ins being an inconvenience, they always put Cal on edge. She was surprised that he’d decided to let her out of his sight, even if it meant her getting some extra hours of sleep. She walked lazily up the stairs to find their apartment torn to shreds. Furniture was pushed over and destroyed. Picture frames had fallen off walls and glass lay shattered on the floor. Although she hadn’t been too involved in the design of their place, she couldn’t help but feel awful that all of Cal’s hard work had gone to waste. She smoothed the crinkled photos that had fallen out of their frames. Most were of her and Cal, apart from some of Mare’s family and Cal had one photo of Coriane, which he cherished greatly. She couldn’t help but grin at the thought of racing up the mountain to meet the group, the idea didn’t seem too bad to her. Undoubtedly would piss off Cal, which was always fun. She didn’t bother having breakfast, through trial and error she’d learned that eating before noon would result in an hour spent in the bathroom. Eventually, after a while of trying to tidy up the apartment, she was dying of boredom. She tied her hair back into a messy braid and pulled on her training uniform before swifty leaving the apartment, locking it behind her.

“Hey!” She whipped around to find Evangeline morphing the garden fountain into a rather inappropriate image. “Cal cleared my schedule to sit around and wait for you to try and leave.” She narrowed her eyes, obviously upset by her change in plans.

“That’s dumb,” Mare shrugged, turning to leave.

“He also lied about where he took the kids today. If you go up that mountain you aren’t going to find them.” Mare stopped in her tracks, cursing. “Why do you want to go so bad anyways?” 

“Because what else am I supposed to do?” she huffed.

“Domestic life not treating you well?” Evangeline teased, Mare glanced up at her, realizing how much she had begun to miss everyone she’d gotten close with last year. She hadn’t seen Farely in what seemed like months.

“How’s Elane?” She changed the subject and Evangeline took the bait, never upset when speaking of her girlfriend.

“She comes to visit today,” her eyes lit up with excitement. “I’m going back with her in a week and then staying awhile. There isn’t much to do around here,” she admitted, Cal had mentioned that her ‘government’ role had been less riveting than she’d anticipated.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Mare couldn’t help but grin at the idea of Evangeline in a stuffy room talking about politics.

“He did seem shaken up this morning though. The raids were bad last night?” Mare could tell Evangeline was trying to keep her from leaving but at that point she didn’t care. There were twelve off campus training sites scattered over Montford and the group could be anywhere. She sat down on the edge of the fountain and tried to look as if she wasn’t bothered.

“They don’t usually search our apartment.”

“Ah,” Evangeline responded. “Probably something to do with the bun in the oven.” She gestured to the small bump that Mare had been desperately trying to hide with baggy clothing.

“I don’t know what they think they could possibly achieve by trying to harm either of us.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Yeah, it’s messed.” Evangeline bit her lip. “The group is expanding though. If you go downtown there’s signs up everywhere. The silvers aren’t happy.”

“You think after last year people would want a break from the violence.”

“I don’t know, would be nice to have a little fun.” The rings on her fingers were morphing into tiny daggers on her palms. Mare couldn’t help but laugh.

“You haven’t changed.”

“Have any of us, really?” Evangeline shrugged. “Come on, Barrow, I know you miss silver blood on your hands.”

“We crave the chaos now but the moment we’re back in it we’ll wish we savoured these moments.” She shook her head but couldn’t suppress the rush of euphoria that passed over her as she imagined what Evangeline was suggesting. 

“You think there will be another war?” Evangeline’s voice was hushed, as if someone was listening in on the pair’s conversation. Mare nodded grimly.

“Cal’s been seeing Julian almost every night. I can tell they’re hashing out the beginnings of some plan. He’s been downplaying the silver’s revolt. I don’t know why he’s treating me like I’m too weak to handle the truth.” 

“Probably doesn’t want to stress you out.” Evangeline brushed a piece of her frizzy blond behind her ear and smirked as she watched Mare gag at the idea of her condition was making her incompetent. “Just go,” she finally caved. “They’re at the training centre in Elm.” Evangeline chuckled as the lightning girl’s eyes lit up with delight. “Tell him I told you and I’ll give the silvers a key to your underground bunker,” she added darkly, trying to hide her amusement. 

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Judging from the time of day the group would probably be on their trek back by now. Mare decided to go anyways. The idea of getting a rise out of Cal was too appealing to pass up. He deserved it for treating her like she was useless. The dirt road was longer than she remembered or maybe she was just more out of shape than the last time she’d run it. She pushed herself faster at the thought. It took a lot for someone to sneak up on Mare. Cal failed miserably almost every day. Which is why, when she was pulled back suddenly, she froze in shock rather than fought back. Before she could react a knife was pressed to her neck and it drew a small amount of blood that began to pool under her chin. She felt the silent before it even started reaping her ability from her, tugging her strength away.

“Not so powerful now, sparks.” She could hear the enjoyment in the unfamiliar silver’s voice and wanted to spit at the nickname. The knife, however, permitted her from doing such.

“I’ve got guards watching me,” she forced out a lie. “Letting me go would be a smart move.” To her dismay the group of silvers only chuckled.

“Look Red Queen, you're the issue here. You’re the reason that reds think they can waltz into our cities and act like they aren’t the worthless vermin that they are. You may have deceived the prince but there’s no mistaking your true intentions.” Mare couldn’t begin to guess what they were talking about.

“He’s not your prince anymore.” Was all she could think of to say. Cal didn’t want anything to do with the crown anymore, or so she hoped.

“And that’s where you're wrong.” The new silver’s voice was calm and poised. “Tiberias Calore VII has been working to revise the new laws. The democratic system is flawed. It’s only a matter of time before it splits. Your boyfriend is working hard to fix the damage you caused.”

“That’s not true.” She could hear the falter in her own voice.

“So that leaves you as the problem. A red can never sit on a silver throne.” Mare could feel the knife digging deeper into her skin. 

“I don’t want your stupid throne.” She managed to kick her leg back, connecting with the soft area that she’d been aiming for. The man yelped in pain, allowing the knife to drop. Mare whirled around to find a larger group than she’d expected. As the sky began to darken she noticed a line of sweat was starting to form on the silent’s forehead.

“Get her in the vehicle,” the woman ordered, Mare could sense the weakness in her voice knowing she wouldn’t last for much longer. She could feel the static energy increasing in the air, begging to strike. The men came at her quickly. She dodged the first couple easily but more kept advancing. The silent held on to her dismay and eventually she was surrounded. It was the knife guy that hit her first, undoubtedly holding onto some sort of resentment. After that the rest was blurry until she doubled over in pain and blackness invaded her vision.