#it grew out of control around two months ago

[dwaekkicidal]

cw» fem!reader, kitty hybrid reader x puppy hybrid!channie, mentions of p in v, manhandling, there’s a few more but nothing too crazy/out of the blue

cw» not really proofread, but this is for that one anon who asked for kitty reader a few months ago <3 sorry it took so long

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

pup!channie who was very against his owner adopting another hybrid, let a lone a cat of all species. but it's not like he has much of a say in it- it's supposed to be his new "friend" so he's not alone while his owner is at work all day!

pup!channie who scares you shitless before you two even meet. your new owner warned you and told you all kinds of scary things about the dog you'll be living with from now on

but queue faces of surprise, from all 3 of you, when chan's face burns red and his tail starts wagging aggressively the second he sees you

pup!channie who gets addicted to your scent from day 1. he just loooves the way you smell. that and your endearingly cute demeanor only leads to him quickly growing a little crush on you~

pup!channie who surprises you and your owner when he opens his space to you right off the bat- with little to no aggressiveness coming from the boy.

pup!channie who welcomes you with open arms, even going far enough to allow you to lay (and sleep with him) in his bed. your owner was scared at first but quickly grew to trust chan enough that he didn't bother getting you your own bed- simply allowing you to sleep with chan

pup!channie who stares daggers into every person, human or hybrid, who even glances your way. your pretty head is never worried about anything enough to notice the stares, but chan has eyes of a hawk when it comes to you.

pup!channie who scents you unbeknownst to you. sneakily scenting you and your clothes to the point where it's just a natural smell to you- you don't question where it comes from anymore now that you're conditioned to live in the smell- but the smell follows you everywhere enough to scare other hybrids away

pup!channie who is SO easily jealous and refuses to let anybody near you. your owner has to muzzle HIM when you go to the doctor because the mere thought of strangers being so close to you, maybe even touching you makes him seethe.

^ and this is even worse when your owner brings their friends around. the onslaught of questions like "ohh how did you get that mutt to tolerate your new, pretty kitty" was already enough to piss him off, but when the friends try to touch you, he sees red. he actually loses all sense of rationality and will bite the person if they don't back away within his first growl.

and all of this is innocent at first! until its not.

it loses all innocence when mating season comes around, and you both discover your owner wasn't responsible enough to account for the clash of hormones. they thought about the possibility of you getting pregnant and put you on birth control "just in case", but they didn't take into account that the hormones would still be there in full force.

and that leads to what happened at the beginning of the week. your owner is out on a business trip that just so happens to be 2 weeks long, and channie has begun to feel the first signs of his heat. but it wasn't until he came home from a short grocery outing, and smelt your scent for the first time in hours, that he realized his heat was hitting him.

it wasn't until he was standing the doorway of your shared room, groceries long forgotten on the kitchen floor, that he felt the heat start coursing through his veins.

it wasn't until he had your face shoved into the sheet, balls deep in your cunt, that the emotions started to hit him.

"C-Channie! Slow down, p-please-" He shushes you and thrusts harder, his balls slapping against your clit each time he bottoms out. "Pretty kitty- MY pretty kitty."

"Chan~" Your whines only made him growl and push into you harder. He was using both hands to hold you down, one in your hair and the other on your shoulder, but he trailed the lower of the two down to your ass after some time.

His hand comes down on your ass suddenly, making you yelp out of surprise. The yelp turns into a moan when his hand wraps around the base of your tail and tugs.

"A-Ah!?" He doesn't release it. Instead, he tightens his hold on your tail and continues to lightly tug on it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. Your hand that's not tangled in the sheets goes behind to push his hand away and Chan growls again, releasing your hair to dig his hands into your wrist and hold it above your head in order to get you to stop resisting him.

"You're gonna take it, right baby? Gonna let me fuck you full of my pups?" You attempt to push yourself up with your free hand, only to fall back down when his canines dig into the side of your neck. "Answer my fucking question before I lose my patience, kitty."

"Yes! I'll take it all. Anything for you, Channie…” You could feel the smirk break out against your neck, and it seems like your promise was enough to scratch an itch in his stupid dog brain.

now, days into his heat, you feel your own heat starting up- no doubt thanks to the restless hound that was adamant about rearranging your insides and trying to get you pregnant.

the two of you had barely left the room by the mid point of the next week. your owner had to call in a friend to bring you guys food every night- at first they weren't really aware of what was going on thanks to the vague texts chan sent (in the middle of you riding him, might i add), but boy could his friend smell the sex from the front door.

and channie had absolutely no plan to stop fucking you, even as your owner's friend poked their head in to check on you two for your owner. he simply gave them the nastiest side eye and tightened his grip around your neck, seemingly fucking into you even harder as he held eye contact and growled at the person to leave.

and then once they did leave, he continued fucking you as if the world was ending and the two of your would never see each other again.

“Attagirl, baby. Take this knot and Channie’ll breed your pains away.”

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght

@aeri-skzver

[erikftglitter]

Terry Always Knows..

You knew that you shouldn’t do it, but the hyper-independent woman that you were conflicted your decision. The crib wouldn’t be that hard to put together. The hardest part was getting the large box up the stairs. Terry was aware of the package being delivered today and requested that you leave the task to him, but here you are circling the box and picturing how beautiful it would look in the nursery.

In your opinion this was Terry’s fault. All of it was. It was his fault for approaching you three years ago. It was his fault for being as handsome as he is and now it was his fault that you were pregnant and breathless. Stupid men and their stupid charm. He was out grocery shopping for the three of you and assured you that he’d be home soon. He was more than a team player during this transition. Terry spent the last few months rebuilding the house and preparing for the arrival of the first born.

It took quite some effort for him to convince you that he was serious. Transitioning from a bachelor to a father in six months was not common nor practical, but Terry was sleeping on several secrets. He was the one who had been worried about you not wanting to be exclusive. You were exceptionally beautiful, college educated, and traveled a lot for work, in his eyes he was just an option for you to choose from. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

The dynamic between you two was backwards but you can’t change the order in which it happened. You two joked about keeping the not-dating-until-mom-was-pregnant away from your child for as long as possible. Terry was everything that you imagined him to be and you often felt yourself gushing like a school girl all over again. He was selfless and he was dependable. He learned you fast and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t overwhelmed by it.

You weren’t used to being studied by someone. He trained himself to familiarize himself with your daily routine so that you could do less. He silently restocked your toiletries and beauty essentials when you were low. He made your chai each morning the way that you loved it, and he rarely allowed you drive anywhere unless you were adamant about needing independence, which was rare as your body grew tired.

He knew when you were lying too. The first couple of times when you left the bed in the middle of night because of the cramps keeping you awake, had you pacing around the house searching for relief. You would try to be as quiet as possible but Terry always felt the lack of body heat and came searching for you.

“You know that you can wake me up. Right?”

“Yeah I know but-”

“Come here I’ll warm up your heating pad.”

The next time he felt you leave the bed, he was quite amused by the sight of you. You were caught in the kitchen at 3am with a pint of ice cream after your doctor suggested that you start eating more yogurt instead.

“Having fun?” You were startled by the sound of Terry’s voice and the flickering of the lights that followed.

The lid of the ice cream was somewhere abandoned and you were throughly enjoying your pregnancy craving.

“Don’t judge me.” You sigh. “It’s the baby.” You declare as Terry smiles at you.

“I know but this means that you need calcium my love. Can we try the yogurt next time?” He pleads as he approaches you, tasting the spoonful that you offered to his mouth. You watch as his tongue peeks out to clean the dessert from his lips in awe. The hormones were driving you crazy.

The hormones were a lot. You would consider your sex drive prior to pregnancy slightly above average but now you are constantly reminded of why you were pregnant in first place. Terry loved it. He never grew tired of the feeling of finishing inside of you. The routine made you realize how important it was that you got on birth control postpartum. The sexual chemistry between the two of you would guarantee another pregnancy immediately and you were NOT down to have two under two.

The crib laid on the floor silently but you were still not sold on waiting for Terry. How hard would it be to get it upstairs and build it? You seen multiple people, usually the dads, build it on YouTube and you felt confident enough to do it. The vibration of your phone silenced your thoughts.

“Don’t even think about it. Be home soon.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s message. He probably seen the package being delivered by the front door camera. He was very adamant about you nesting and letting him do everything. You knew that he was doing the right thing but you hadn’t done anything by yourself in months and were starting to feel upset. You felt a chunk of your pride collapse and everything that you’ve been ignoring came through flooding at once. You don’t notice that you’re sobbing until you feel the weight of someone lifting you from the floor.

“What’s going on?” Terry asked, his own eyes slightly glossy. He hated seeing you upset.

“I’m okay.” You sniffle and softly pull away from his grasp. He doesn’t let you go and frowns at your declaration.

“Y/N.” He urges. He didn’t like when you would shut down. He would sit here until you started talking and didn’t care about the groceries wasting away in the car.

“I just want my freedom back.” You admit. It felt selfish to admit. You loved this baby but this was foreign to you. You couldn’t work, couldn’t shop, could barely exercise, it wasn’t safe for you to socialize with everyone smoking and vaping everywhere and the crib was just the cherry on top of those complicated feelings.

“I know baby. I thank you for allowing us to have this wonderful opportunity to start a family, but I know it comes with some excruciating pain and sacrifices. We are almost at the end, I promise. Junior will be here soon.” Terry’s holding your belly up as he speaks to you. He watches as your eyes become softer as he holds weight of your baby. You didn’t realize how much of a relief that would provide.

“And how do you know it’s a boy?” You eye him suspiciously. You two opted to be surprised during the delivery and hadn’t discussed the gender since.

“I just know.”

[ 2.5 Months Later ]

The gentle feeling of soft kisses along your face woke you up from your sleep. You smile softly at Terry looking down at you.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He quietly mumbles. You gently push your body against the headboard to prop yourself up to see him.

“You can’t sleep?” You ask, a small yawn escaping from your mouth. He shakes his head and pulls you closer to him.

“You know that you can check on the baby without me T.” You suggest. He looks at you but turns his head quickly. There was something there that you hadn’t noticed before. “What’s going on Terry?” You ask. You were beginning to feel a bit worried now.

“I’m scared Y/N.” He admits a few moments of silence. “I don’t want to hurt him.” He adds. His voice isn’t as strong as it usually is and you scoot closer to him. This was his first time ever voicing something this vulnerable to you.

“You would never hurt him Terry.” You softly grab his face. “He’s a fighter just like his daddy.” You add before placing a small kiss to his lips.

“Come on let’s go check on him.” You guide him to your son’s nursery. You two hover over his sleeping frame, his small fists balled up. He was perfect. He was born a few weeks early but he was healthy.

“Look at him. We made this.” You whisper to Terry who’s starring down at him. “You’re doing a great job T.” An audible breath comes from your son and you two smile at him. He looks so peaceful in the crib that Terry put together. There at the bottom engraved his full name.

Terrance Nasir Richmond II

“We have nothing but time to get this right. Okay?” You beckon.

“Okay.” Terry pulls you into a tight hug and you almost miss his statement, “Thank goodness you came back.”

Hey babe , Do you plan on making a part two to Terry Knows ?

Would anyone like that? 👀

[thegreenhordes]

Twilight's Notes: Autopsy Report

Subject: Cheerilee Infection Type: Stage 3, Growler Cause of Death: Malnutrition

Important Notes: Food was provided to the Subject through slats in the door to her observation room. It was noted that she refused any non-meat food items, often smelling provided vegetables and fruit before wandering away in an angry huff. When provided with meat the subject devoured it ravenously. (Additional Note: Fluttershy is still Very distraught by the act of feeding meat to a subject, understandably so. The animals butchered were already dead when it was done, but I admit the act turned my stomach as well.)

Results of the Autopsy of Cheerilee: Pustules had a thicker membrane than what has been found in other Growler subjects, this has been noted in the Growler files under 'Secondary Mutations', Section Four, Pustule Growth. Additionally, the fluid inside had developed a thick consistency, atypical of previous tests on samples taken from the subject while still alive. Potentially a postmortem event similar to bloating and blood coagulation. The Cranial region of the subject shows typical deconstruction of the front of the skull where the largest pustules grow over the eyes. Bone was missing and the brain was protected solely by the thick covering of the pustules themselves. This was noted with previous autopsies as being how popping the facial pustules can be used to kill the infected. Oddly enough, Cheerilee is a unique case- in that her eyes were still present. They were nonfunctional and buried beneath the growths, but she is the only Growler so far to have them still intact. They were pushed back into the remainder of the skull and put pressure on her brain. It was noted this may be the reason for some of the subject's atypical behavior. (Note: Cheerilee struggled to walk in a straight line and frequently ran into the walls. Additionally, she had a total of five seizures in the few weeks she was in stage 3.)

The state of the subject's teeth were abysmal, many of them were chipped or shattered due to aggressive clenching and gnawing on bone. Multiple lesions in the mouth reveal a recurring observation that the sharpened teeth of the infected don't fit right in the mouth and will often cut their cheeks. The manner in which the teeth end up in this state is still debated. (Personal Note: I believe there is magic involved in much of the disease's effects, with the transformation of the teeth being one such magic-affected change.)

Internal organs were in poor condition, showing signs typical of extreme malnutrition. There were also several tumors and cysts found throughout, once again not uncommon in Growler cadavers. However there were less within Cheerilee than in previous subjects. I'm noting this as being likely due to Cheerilee being the shortest-lived Type 1 in my care to date. Aside from the growths- Which were later tested and found to be a mix of benign and cancerous- I discovered something I hadn't noticed before, though I suspect that was a simple oversight on my part. The glands that create saliva were engorged, the pores from which saliva is discharged were wider than normal. This almost certainly explains the thick, excessive saliva that often drips from a Type 1's mouth.

Final Notes: Most findings were either typical, or slightly atypical of the Type 1 infected. Though some new things were discovered, overall the autopsy proved to be more useful in the fact that I obtained a significant number of samples that I can use. I'll be taking these to study and try to find anything the may lead me towards an understanding of the mutagenic properties of the infection. I may also compare the samples to early-stage infected, stage 1s, 2s, and recovered ponies. My goal is not just to understand the infected themselves, but how the disease got to where it is now- Perhaps develop some sort of vaccine, or a cure for those still in the first 1-2 weeks where they can be saved.

I will be adding this file to the autopsy logs for future reference.

[lechrts]

Dinner’s Ready. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Bestfriend!reader

Summary: Helping your bestfriend learn how to cook because his out of date freezer meals were a bit concerning.

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer/s: Fluff fluff fluffff!! :3

Vera’s Voice! i liked this one tbh :3 wrote it during my lunch break today!!! hope u enjoy!!!

“Lando, you cannot be serious.”

“I am serious,” He replied, leaning casually against the counter as you stared at the horror show that was his freezer. “What’s the big deal?”

You turned slowly, holding up a frostbitten container of… something? You squinted at the label. Lasagna? Or… meatloaf? The date scribbled on top was from months ago. Possibly before summer.

“The big deal, you idiot, is that I’m pretty sure this thing is one microwave cycle away from mutating.” You held the container of mystery meat in your hand as you felt a gag creeping forward but you choked it down.

Lando scoffed with a grin, the dimpled, infuriating kind, like this was all a joke to him. “Survival of the fittest.” He shrugged.

“This is not funny!” You groaned, dramatically shoving the container into his arms like you’d caught him red-handed.

“You’re going to give yourself food poisoning one day. Like I’m honestly surprised you haven’t died already.”

“I’m built different.” He argued.

“You’re built stupid.”

He laughed loudly, unbothered by your scolding. “Okay, Mum, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re lucky I'm even here,” You shot back, spinning around to grab your grocery bag like some kind of control freak. “You’re about to learn how to cook a proper meal for once in your life!” A pause.

“God, this is what the rich does to people.” You muttered to yourself.

Lando groaned like you’d told him he had to run ten miles uphill. “Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”

“Because you’re terrible at following instructions,” You teased, already digging out the flour, eggs, and the rest of your supplies.

He leaned over the counter to peek. “Wait. Are we making pasta?”

“Of course.”

“Why would we do that when the box version is right there? In the cupboard, I might add.”

You turned to him, jaw practically on the floor because he even suggested such a thing. “I’m gonna pretend you didn't just say that.”

“What's wrong with it?!” He scoffed.

“Because it won’t be made with love! And you, Lando Norris, need more love in your diet.”

Lando blinked, then snorted. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Very appropriate since you’re the corniest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” You quickly shot back.

His jaw fell. A hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“Good.”

And soon enough, the two of you got to work and, somewhere along the way, the line between “teaching” and “flirting” blurred, though neither of you dared to point it out.

Standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter, the space between you shrank with every quiet moment. You guided his hands as he clumsily kneaded the dough, your fingers brushing his more often than necessary.

The air grew heavy with something unspoken, the sound of flour dusting the counter and soft laughter filling the silence. When you looked up to correct him, his gaze lingered longer than it should have, and suddenly the lesson felt like an excuse to stay close, to touch without reason, and to hide the butterflies neither of you could ignore.

“Like this,” You said softly, placing your fingers over his to press into the floury mixture.

“I am doing it like that,” He complained.

“No, you’re manhandling it.”

“It’s dough!” He laughed, twisting to look at you, his face unfairly close.

“Yeah, and it’s not going to trust you if you’re aggressive.”

Lando tilted his head, the grin creeping back. “Not going to trust me?”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Clearly you do,” He teased, though he didn’t pull his hands away from yours. You suddenly became very aware of the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, the way his shoulder brushed against yours as you leaned closer.

Your gaze flickered up, and that’s when you realized he was already watching you.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” Lando’s voice dipped, quieter than before. His eyes were still on yours, unreadable but warm—too warm.

You swallowed hard, pulling back just a little too quickly. “You’re hopeless,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the dough.

Lando didn’t argue. He just smiled, like he knew something you didn’t.

Moving onto the sauce now at the stove, the pasta dough had been cut sloppily into fettuccine, now boiling on another burner. The kitchen looked like the scene of a food fight. Flour dusted the counters, your shirt, his hair—though Lando swore you’d put it there on purpose.

You were focused on stirring the sauce when he came up beside you, far too close for comfort. You could feel him there before you saw him: the shift of the air, the way the space seemed to shrink around him.

“Need something?” You asked suspiciously, refusing to look at him.

“I’m just watching,” He said, voice light but laced with something unreadable.

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m learning.”

“You’re distracting,” You muttered, stirring the sauce a little harder than necessary.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Distracting, hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

When you finally glanced up at him, Lando was leaning against the counter with that insufferably lazy grin of his, arms folded, hair still tousled from where you’d flicked flour at him earlier. He looked at ease—too at ease.

“What?” you asked again, narrowing your eyes.

“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely toward your face. “Something there.”

“Where?”

“Your cheek.”

You frowned, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

Lando didn’t move, but the smile tugging at his lips grew. “Missed it.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Would I ever?”

“Always.” You said flatly, but before you could react, he leaned in—just enough to make your heart catch. His thumb brushed across your cheek, slow and deliberate, the contact feather-light but enough to make your skin tingle where he touched.

It wasn’t fair how something so small could make your breath falter. Your brain felt like it short-circuited, stuck on the warmth of his hand and how close his face was to yours now.

“There,” he murmured softly.

You swallowed hard, eyes locked on his as his hand lingered—his thumb now gently tracing the line of your jaw.

Your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You said, barely above a whisper. “You've been doing it all evening.”

“Like what?” Lando’s voice dropped to match yours, quiet but steady. His eyes never left you, his gaze softer now, something unspoken lingering in the space between you.

“Like you’re about to kiss me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the shift in his expression. His smile faded—just slightly—as his thumb paused at the curve of your jaw.

“…Would that be such a bad thing?”

Your stomach flipped violently, and you felt rooted to the spot.

Every thought in your head went quiet except for the sound of your pulse thudding in your ears. Lando’s eyes searched yours, still giving you time to say no—to pull away—but you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned in.

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank to nothing. He hesitated for just a second, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Close enough to memorize the exact color of his eyes and count the faint freckles across his nose.

And then his lips met yours.

Softly. Gently.

The kiss was tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for you to pull back—but you didn’t. The butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your heart a mess of frantic flutters as you leaned into him, your hands lifting to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt like you needed to hold on to something solid.

Lando’s other hand found your waist, warm and steady, anchoring you as he kissed you again—deeper this time, but still careful. His lips moved against yours with the kind of softness that made your chest ache, like he was memorizing the moment, like he didn’t want to rush it.

You could’ve stayed there forever, standing in his flour-dusted kitchen with the sauce bubbling behind you and the rest of the world falling away.

The kitchen was still for a moment—too still. Your lips tingled from the kiss, the air between you and Lando thick with something unspoken but undeniable.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe properly. Your heart was still racing in a way that had nothing to do with the pasta you were supposed to be making.

Lando’s forehead rested gently against yours, but his presence, his warmth, was too close, making everything feel so very real in a way you weren’t sure how to process.

Then, slowly, with the faintest chuckle in his voice, he pulled away—just enough to look at you, but not enough to break the contact completely.

He was standing behind you now, just a hair’s breath away, his hands slowly finding their way around your waist again, pulling you against him in a soft but secure hug. You froze as his arms wrapped around your body, his chest pressed lightly against your back.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth radiating from his body into yours. His chin nestled just above your shoulder, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

“Lando…” You mumbled, the words almost slipping from you without thought, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mmm?” He didn’t move. His voice was low, soft—a stark contrast to the playful teasing from earlier. “You okay?”

You swallowed hard, your face growing warm from the closeness. “Think I’m having trouble breathing, if I’m honest.”

His lips brushed the back of your neck, a soft, teasing kiss that sent an electric shiver down your spine. “Not surprising,” He murmured, his tone now laced with a playful cocky edge. “I do have that effect on people.”

“Oh, do you now?” You replied, trying to sound sarcastic, but your voice betrayed you—weak and breathless.

“Definitely,” He said with a chuckle, squeezing you tighter, and you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “I mean, I’m not just a great driver, you know. I’m also pretty good at making hearts race.”

You let out a soft groan, hands gripping the counter for balance as you felt your heart actually race. “You are so cringe, it hurts.”

He grinned against your shoulder, his voice lowering. “Am I? I was starting to think you liked me.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “I don’t,” you muttered, though you weren’t entirely sure if you believed it.

Lando leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your neck. “Really?”

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Think you and I already know the answer.”

The air between you both hung heavy with the playful tension, but just as you thought it was about to become too much, Lando pulled back slightly, his arms still around you as the sauce seemed to be finished.

“Come on, dinner’s ready.”

like, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated ^_^ !!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

[prettyfastcars]

As sweet as blood-red jam | Mob!Lando

Summary: Lando could be many things given the nature of his job. Mean, commandeering, a control freak. But when he came home to you and the kids, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Your marriage to him was arranged of course, because that’s how things worked in the world you were both from. But love eventually grew between the two of you, and it did not stop growing. 

Themes: dad!Lando, fluff, smut, arranged marriage, domestic!mob!Lando, mild mommy/daddy kink (nicknames only), praise kink, housewife!reader, breeding kink

“They’re sleeping.” 

He announced cheerfully, shutting the door behind him as he walked into your library where you had been reading in silence for the past half an hour. 

You were a stay-at-home mom so the twins, your son and daughter, were under your care all day. And so Lando insisted that you get the evening off the moment he got home. He read to them and tucked them in for the night each night. It was part of his routine and he loved it. 

You placed your wine glass down and picked up the drink you made for him, handing it to him as he came over to sit down next to you on the large sofa. 

His eyes lit up at the sight of the well-deserved drink. “Oh you’re perfect, baby.” He kissed your forehead before getting comfortable next to you, sighing as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment. 

“They’ve been running around all day, they went to see the horses,” You said, thinking about how energetic your kids had been during the day, “I thought they would pass out after dinner but they wanted to wait for daddy.” 

Your husband smiled, looking a little tired as he took a sip of his drink. You caressed his cheek with a gentle hand as he turned to give you a soft look with those gorgeous eyes of his. 

He looked more relaxed and comfortable like this, wearing nothing but dark sweatpants. As opposed to the authoritative figure he is during the day in his expensive, dark suits. Him in casual clothing like this made you realise that he was in fact just a young man, barely 25, who shouldered a lot of weight alone. 

Responsibilities, expectations, risks, reputation, legacy, and now his own family. You’d come a long way, the two of you. Only a couple years ago you were just strangers being introduced at a gala. And now you were young parents. 

You still remember the night you met him for the first time. How gently he held your hand and danced with you. How your engagement was announced only a few months after and the wedding happened quicker than you thought. 

You always thought that you would forever be strangers living under the same roof. Especially given his reputation of being a workaholic which made him such an influential figure in his line of work. 

But Lando proved you wrong. He actually took the time to get to know you early on in your marriage, he cared, he listened. He was good to you. Then a year later, you had the twins and Lando had been perfect. Perfect partner, perfect dad. 

“What are you thinking about, mama?” He asked softly, his hand leisurely caressing your exposed thigh. That golden chain on his neck shining in the dimmed lights of the library. No shirt so you shamelessly ogled his defined abs and muscles. He let you, with a smirk on his handsome face. 

You put the book aside and leaned a little closer to him, cupping his rough chin in your hand. He’d been growing facial hair lately and you liked it. “You work too hard,” You said softly. 

He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your hand as he said, “Just wanna give you and the kids everything you want and need. You deserve it.” 

He had given you everything. Houses, cars, chauffeurs, chefs, private planes, private trainers, cards with no spending limits, vacations. You and the kids were well taken care of. 

You sighed, sliding over and ending up perfectly on his lap. Lando finished his drink, placed the glass aside and grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer. “But we have everything we could ever want or need.” You suggested, “Take a day off. Or two. I’m taking the kids shopping tomorrow, come spend the day with us.” 

Lando gave you a faint smile, “Can’t right now, baby. Some important shipments are about to come in. I can’t afford a day off until it gets here.” 

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle and pull you closer. “But I barely see you.” You murmured. “The last time we had a date night was like, weeks ago.” 

Your face got really hot just thinking about it. Not just the date, but what happened after in the car on the way home… 

Lando smirked, surely also thinking about the same thing, grabbing you by the hips and gently moving you on his lap, rubbing you against his growing erection. You hissed in pleasure as he did. The soft, silky night dress you were wearing bunched up around your upper thighs, allowing you to feel everything. The shape of him, the warmth. 

“If you wanted a lovesick romeo who writes you love notes every morning then you shouldn’t have agreed to marry a man like me.” He taunted, teasing you and pinching your thigh. 

You reached out and grabbed his gold chain, tugging on it playfully, knowing how much he liked it when you did. “Unfortunately I like my men a little more corrupted,” You whispered, “Bonus points if they work all the time and don’t have time for me.” You sassed. 

Lando chuckled, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “Aww, what is it?” He cooed, “You miss daddy? Hmm? Does mommy need some extra love from daddy tonight?” 

You nodded. 

“Come here, baby,” He pressed his mouth to yours as his hands caressed your inner thighs. He kissed you like he was starving, while your hands reached down in between your bodies and eagerly lowered his sweatpants to free his cock. 

You whimpered into the kiss, against his lips as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking his hard cock, making him groan into the kiss before he pulled away and said, “Daddy missed you too.” He murmured, looking down to watch how your hand touched him just how he liked it. “Fuck,” He sighed, “That feels good, baby…” 

His praise gave you enough confidence to stroke him harder, making him groan and moan. You loved the sounds he made. And you wanted to keep hearing those moans so you carefully lifted your lower body off his, pulled your underwear to the side and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, earning louder moans out of his sinful mouth as you sank down on him. 

You were wet enough for his cock to slide in, but your body still resisted just a little bit, enough for him to have to thrust up the tiniest bit to fully fill you up. You cried out as he did. 

His soft lips parted just a little, and you couldn’t resist leaning in and sliding your tongue into his mouth. You whimpered against his lips, stroking the top of his mouth as you lifted up and sank back down on his cock, making him growl into the messy kiss. 

“That’s it, baby… fuck yourself on daddy’s cock…” Lando’s hands rubbed up and down your thighs again as he gently thrust his hips up each time, setting a pace that had you both moaning and wanting more of each other. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, scratching his scalp and down his neck as the tip of his cock reached sensitive places inside you. 

Lando chuckled when he felt you clench around him. “We’re not using protection again, mama…” He spoke against your open mouth, breathless as you were, “You’re gonna give me another kid, huh?” He sounded cocky as he said it, like it filled him with pride. “Gonna let me fill you up again till you walk around all nice and swollen with my baby in you, hmm?” 

You whined, feeling him stretch you out each time you moved up and down his cock. “Lando… please,” You gasped as his hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. 

“Answer me,” He demanded, “You’re gonna carry another one for me?” His voice sent chills down your back. 

“Yes,” You whimpered, moving faster, impaling yourself down on his cock and whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his ridiculously pretty eyes. You couldn’t help but speak the thoughts of your lust-drunk mind, “I want you to fill me up again,” You mumbled, feeling yourself getting high up there gradually. 

Lando laughed, also lust-drunk, “I can’t wait…” He said, “Can’t wait to come home and find you dripping wet for me.” His voice gave away that he was thinking back to how needy you were for him all throughout your previous pregnancy. 

You whimpered, thinking about it as well. Some evenings he’d come home and you dragged him to the bedroom immediately. Some days you even called him and asked him if he could come home for an hour or two. Lando happily agreed each time of course. 

“Remember how sensitive you’d get? How needy?” He teased, holding you close. “How you almost cried each time I made you come?” He smirked, male pride all over his face. “Some of the best months of my life those were.” 

You whined, “Please…” You stared into his pretty eyes. 

“Come for me.” He growled in that cold, menacing, erotic voice. “Come for daddy…” 

And you did. Whimpering, squirming and whining. You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Lando kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him.

Lando came right after you, moaning and spilling inside of you, filling you up as you trembled and squirmed on his lap. You leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath while he held you against him, kissing the side of your face softly. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked after a few minutes of you two just cuddling there on the sofa. 

You nodded, “Mhmm, don’t wanna get up.” You murmured, sighing in bliss as you snuggled into his warm chest. 

He chuckled, “Okay.” He kissed the stop of your head. “I love you,” He whispered.

[writing0305]

Storm.

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!F!Reader

Summary: You are a supe, part of The Seven and Homelander's girlfriend. What started as a PR relationship, turned into a real relationship when Homelander managed to wear you down. Now you were pregnant with his baby. The first supe baby, born from two supe parents.

Warning: Homelander. Heavy swearing. Toxic and abusive relationship. Homelander''s weird milk thing. Body shaming(of A-train)

Homelander was completely and utterly fucking infatuated with you from the mere second you joined The Seven. He wanted you from the second his eyes landed on you. And like always, Homelander got his way. It took a few months, lots of persuasion, and a forced PR relationship before he finally wore you down.

It was months into your fake relationship that you gave in to the many advances he made toward you. One night together and your whole fucking life changed. Before you knew it, you were his and there wasn’t a single thing you could do. You just had to accept it.

The man was nearly obsessed with you. He wanted you by his side all the time. And when he couldn’t have you with him, he’d track your phone and constantly text you. He dictated who you talked to, what you wore, what you did. Every last thing of your life.

You had learned to live with it, and a part of you had started to get feelings for the man. Almost like Stockholm syndrome. You couldn’t help but love the only man who gave you love and attention.

But things for you quickly turned upside down when you found out you were pregnant. You went to doctors within Vought, when your powers started acting out. The live electricity inside your body ran wild. Like a live wire and sometimes you barely had control over it.

That’s when they informed you the baby inside your womb was interfering with your powers, short-circuiting you. You didn’t believe them until they showed you the sonogram. A baby. Your baby. You were left confused and scared when they told you, you were four weeks pregnant.

You knew supes could have children. There were many supes who had children with none supes. But their was no baby with two supe parents. And with the tight leash Homelander had on you, only he could be the father.

You had always wanted children but many years ago, Vought told you, you couldn’t have children. Because, unlike most supes, you weren’t injected with compound V. You were a test tube baby just like Homelander. Neither of you was supposed to be able to procreate and it left you even more confused in scared.

So much so, that it was now two weeks later and you still hadn’t uttered a word to Homelander. He wasn’t stupid, he quickly realized something was wrong with you. He could see and smell the change in your body. And soon he’d be able to hear it.

For a few days now, he could hear a soft thud, a heartbeat that grew stronger every day. He was unable to find the source and it was driving him crazy. Unaware he was hearing the development of his baby’s heartbeat.

It was in The Seven’s meeting room, on a Monday morning when everything came out from under wraps. You were sitting with the rest of the group, listening to Homelander go on and on about the weeks stats.

He was visibly irritated and growing even more irritated by the second. His ranting was cut off by a long silence as he inhaled sharply. His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes, taking another deep breath.

“What’s that sound?” He asked in a low voice as his gaze darted around the room.

Everyone looked between each other and Homelander in confusion. “What sound?” Maeve asked as she stared up at him with furrowed eyebrows, her head tilting to the side.

“A heartbeat.” He muttered in a low voice, and it didn’t even register in your mind what he was getting at. There were a lot of people in the room with beating hearts and you weren’t aware the tiny baby inside had started developing its own.

Maeve’s eyes squinted as she looked at Homelander like he had gone crazy. Everyone in the room did. “Well, there’s six breathing people with heartbeats in here with you…” She muttered as she glanced between the rest of you.

“I can hear seven.” He muttered and at that very moment, it clicked inside your head. Your heart clenched in your chest and Homelander’s gaze accusingly shot towards you. He stared you down as he focused on you, realizing the sound was coming from you.

“What?” Starlight questioned his words as her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head as she shared a confused look with Maeve.

You struggled to tear your eyes away from Homelander’s piercing gaze. You softly cleared your throat and shifted uncomfortably in your chair. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You muttered softly as you felt a wave of nausea rise up in the back of your throat.

You felt Homelander’s scorching hot gaze on you as you rushed out of the room. As you stalked down the hall, there were sparks of blue coming from your hands, and the lightbulbs on the ceiling and walls burst as you passed them. Everyone in the hallway was lucky it was only the bulbs and not them being fried to a crisp.

You rushed into the bathroom and as you burst into a stall and fell to your knees, you brought up everything you had eaten that morning. The lights in the room flicked and then went eye-blinding bright before the bulbs burst.

When you were done, you grabbed toilet paper and wiped your mouth. You listened as the door to the bathroom slowly creaked open and heavy footsteps entered. You sighed softly, tossing the toilet paper in the toilet and flushing before you got up to your feet.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the stall, your gaze immediately meeting Homelander’s. he stood near the door, hands clasped together behind his back and his jaw tightly wired shut. He silently stared at you for a second, his face eerily blank of emotion.

You stood at the entrance of the stall, eyebrows knitting together with fear as you stared back at him. His eyes squinted as his head tilted to the side. “How long have you known?”He asked in a low voice.

You took a shaky breath as your gaze diverted to the ground. “Homelander-” You spoke up, trying to explain yourself to him, but you were quickly cut off by him.

“How fucking long?” He repeated his question, his voice louder now as he took two small steps closer to you. Steps that terrified you.

You silently stared at him for a second before taking a deep breath, your heart completely sinking into the pit of your stomach. “Two weeks.” You whispered as your gaze diverted down to the ground again.

“Two weeks? Two fucking weeks?” He snapped his eyes getting eerily wide as he stared at you. His arms dropped to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me?” He questioned as he raised his eyebrows.

You look up at him again, your head tilting to the side as you sigh, shaking your head. “I-” You desperately tried to explain yourself but he didn’t give you a second to explain yourself. He didn’t want your excuses, he just wanted answers.

“Is it mine?” He asked in a low voice, his head tilting to the side as he took a few more steps closer towards you. His steps were extremely slow yet so determined that it scared you even more.

Your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback by the question. “What?” You asked softly, confused about why he would question your loyalty towards him. At the very least, that was something you always gave him. Even in the beginning when your relationship was a PR stunt, you were loyal to the end.

You gasped as Homelander launched forward. His arm stretched out, his hand wrapping around your neck. He yanked you out of the stall and slammed you against the wall beside it. “Did you let someone else fuck you?” He asked in a low voice as he leaned his face inches away from yours. “Is that why you’re scared to tell me?” He asked as his lips pulled back into a snarl.

“No!” You snapped as blue sparks ran through your vein and Homelander gave you a pointed warning look. You knew better than to shock or electrocute him. And even if your raging hormones did fuck up your powers, you still managed to settle the electricity running through your veins, with just one look from the man.

“Is it mine?” He asked you in a low voice, his grip tightening around your neck. If you were any mere human, he’d have snapped your neck in half, but to you, his grip was barely enough to leave a bruise. “Is it fucking mine?” He repeated his question when you didn’t answer fast enough

“Yes, it is.” You replied with a slight nod of your head and his grip loosened around your neck. You shoved his hand away before stepping towards the bathroom sink, rinsing out your mouth with the cold water.

“Because I’m scared!” You snapped as you turned around to face him, and he was ever so slightly taken aback by your outburst of emotions. You had always been good at keeping yourself calm and collected. This was a new sight for him. “I’m fucking scared!” You yelled, your voice cracking as your eyes filled with tears.  “They told me I couldn’t ever have children! And now here I am and I don’t fucking know what’s going on!” You ranted as you sighed deeply. “I’m scared…for the first time in my life, I’m scared.” You admitted.

He watched you, his hands clasped together behind his back again. His jaw clenched for a second. “Then why the fuck did you not tell me?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows.

He silently stared at you for a second before stepping closer. He leaned down so that his face was inches away from yours and he stared into your eyes. “You should have come to me the second you found out.”  He muttered in a low voice. “I fucking deserved to know.”

You sighed as you lowered your head, sniffing softly and wiping at your teary eyes. “I know…I’m sorry.” You whispered as you shook your head.

Homelander took hold of your chin and lifted your head until your gaze met his. “You will not keep this baby from me, if that was your plan.” He warned as he slowly shook his head before pulling you closer. “I will rip it from your fucking womb if I have to, but you won’t keep it from me.” He threatened.

You took a shaky breath, knowing Homelander didn’t bluff. You sniffed again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You whispered as you stared up at him with blurry eyes. “I was planning to…I was just waiting for the right time.” You explained before reaching out and taking his hand into yours and placing it against your stomach. “It’s our baby… I won’t keep it from you.” You assured.

Homelander stared down at your stomach, eyes slightly widening when he focused on the heartbeat of your baby. His baby. His lips parted and you swore you could almost see awe in his eyes. He was completely starstruck by what was inside your womb.

Homelander was truly fucking proud of this accomplishment. A baby that will be born from two supes. A baby the first of its kind. His baby.

He was proud enough of this baby, to force Madelyn to call a press meeting to reveal the joyful news to the world. Every news outlet in America was standing in front of the small podium that was set up in front of the Vought building. A few fans had arrived as well.

It was only you and Homelander on the podium. He stood in front of the microphone and you stood next to him, gaze drifting over the many people who had showed up to hear your news. You couldn’t believe so many people cared about supe news. About news regarding you and Homelander.

“You might all be wondering why we’re standing up here today.” Homelander began speaking as he looked over the crowd. “We have some very exciting news to share.” He informed them as he glanced at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his side.  “As you all know, me and Y/n have been going steady for a while now, and we have just received news that we are expecting a baby together.” He said.

The crowds of fans went absolutely crazy. They cheered and screamed for you and Homelander. Camera’s flashed from the news crews and a few congratulations were shouted out from both crowds of fans and news crews.

 “Thank you,” Homelander called out as a proud smile tugged at his lips and he held up a single hand to quiet the people down. “Now you have all heard of supes being made by compound V, or supe babies being born from a supe and normal human.” He said before inhaling sharply and shaking his head. His arm unwrapped from your waist and he laced a hand on your stomach, making more cameras flash. “But not our baby. Our baby is the first to be born from two supes. It has been made by our love and will grow in its mother’s womb. It will not be made from an injection, but born from this wonderful woman.” He spoke before turning his head to face you, flashing you a smile. You returned his smile and reached out, placing your hand on top of his, making more cameras flash.  “This…this is an important and remarkable thing.”

The crowds cheered again and then a few questions were asked by the news crew. General questions, about how far along you were, if you knew the gender, if you two wanted a boy or girl. After all was answered everything was wrapped up.

New spread fucking quickly and twenty minutes later your and Homelander’s baby was trending number one on every social media platform. Everyone was talking about the baby, your baby. You had always gotten a lot of attention as not only a supe but as part of The Seven. But now you got an overwhelming amount of attention from everyone surrounding you.

The most overwhelming and overbearing was Homelander. He now micro-managed your life even more than before. And he was around you almost twenty-four hours of the day. In completed total, you have maybe an hour's worth of time to yourself throughout the day.

You sat in the living room of Homelander’s penthouse. After finding out you were pregnant, he had you move in with him permanently. He stepped inside, returning from a meeting with the rest of The Seven. You were on maternity leave, even if you were barely just entering your second trimester now. Homealnder’s orders. He didn’t want you or the bay anywhere near danger.

He walked into the living room, eyebrows furrowing at the box of pizza lying on his coffee table. He stared at it for a second before turning to stare at you. “What’s this?” He asked as he pointed down at the box.

You glanced at the box and then at Homelander, eyebrows furrowing. “Pizza?” You replied softly as your head slightly tilted to the side.

His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath as he glared at you, his eyes squinting. He reached down and opened the pizza box, lips twitching into a snarl when he saw it was empty. “You’re feeding our kid this fucking junk?” He questioned as he slapped the box off the table and turned his glare back to you.

You stared at the box on the ground before turning to look at Homelander, standing up with a huff. “It’s your fucking kid that wants it.” You snapped at him as you ran a hand over your growing bump. “It’s all it wants.” You muttered as your lips pouted out into a frown.

Homelander took a step towards you and placed a hand on your stomach. While his touch was gentle his demeanor towards you was still very much hostile. “You are supposed to be taking care of our child inside you.” He muttered in a low voice. “Pizza is not fucking taking care of it.” He gritted out as he stared at you with his usual eerie wide eyes glare.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “For fuck sake, pizza is not going to hurt it.” You muttered with a shake of your head.

Homelander sighed deeply in agitation. “I don’t care how much you or the baby wants pizza, from now on you’re eating fucking healthy.” He ordered as he gave you a pointed look. “I don’t want a kid with a gut the size of A-train’s.” He snapped.

He turned around and walked off towards the bedroom with his hands clasped together behind his back. You sighed again and looked down at you bump, softly running a hand over it. “It’s okay, what daddy doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” You whispered to your baby.

Homelander turned around at the entrance of the bedroom door. “I can fucking hear you.” He informed you as his jaw clenched.  “Do not test me on this, Y/n.” He warned as he pointed a finger at you before turning back around again and going into the bedroom.

You rolled your eyes and plopped yourself down on the couch. Nothing got easier as your pregnancy progressed. Homelander was even more controlling and more protective. But he was dotting on you, you would at the very least give him that.

He was aware of every change in your body before you were even aware, and he was very conscious of both your and the baby’s health. He was always listening in on both your heartbeats and using his x-ray vision. That’s how you both came to know, that even now at four months, your baby was like the two of you.  He was a supe.

Like most nights, Homelander lay with his head on your lap, ear pressed against your small growing bump. He truly did love hearing your baby’s heartbeat. Just like he noticed every other change in your body, he noticed when your milk was starting to come in.

With his head on your lap, he stared up at you. Your eyes were fixated on the tv screen that played some old supe movie, but you were extremely aware of Homelander’s eyes on your face. You tried to ignore him but it was hard when one of his hands reached up and brushed over one of your breasts.

“Your milk is coming in.” He commented.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your gaze shot towards him. “Yeah…” You muttered with a slow nod of your head.

“I can smell it.” He informed you as his gaze focused on your breasts.

Your head tilted to the side and your eyes squinted. By now you should have been used to Homelander not having a filter but sometimes he still managed to catch you off guard. “That’s not a fucking strange thing to say to the mother of your child.” You muttered softly as you raised your eyebrows at him.

His gaze met yours for a brief second before returning to your breasts, his hand still brushing over them as well. He seemed almost fascinated and intrigued. “It smells…like vanilla.” He commented and your eyebrows furrowed again. He was silent for a second before his lips parted.“Bet it tastes like vanilla too.” He added.

You stared down at him in confusion. This wouldn’t be the last time he has a facination with your breasts or your breasts milk. As more milk comes in, the more fasinated he becomes. You began pumping right before your due date and more than once did you catch Homelander drinking your stored milk.

It was after the second time you caught him and complaining about aching breasts, that he suggested something that would benefit you both. It took a lot of persuasion and even threats before Homelander got his way.

Before you knew it, every night he would lay his head gently on your bump and drink any milk that you didn’t pump for the day. The first few times you hated it, but you would admit it brought a great relief to your aching breasts. And then you just got used to it.

Admittedly, the ‘bonding’ time between you and Homelander did bring you closer and brought something new to your relationship. Now you were dependent on each other in more ways than one. And you were both fucked in the head in more ways than one.

Soon you were preparing for the birth of your son. Everyone inside the delivery room was on fucking edge as Homelander watched their every move. He questioned every action they made, every tool they picked up, and every word they said. And he nearly fucking killed the male doctor when he went to check how far dilated you were when you first got to the delivery room.

Your delivery only got worse once you were in active labor. You had burst every lightbulb in the room at first and then caused a power outage on the whole grid. But it wasn’t just your powers stirring up. While giving birth, a massive storm had settled in the skies. A sunny and warm sky turned to dark clouds with heavy downpour and lightning within mere seconds.

Your son was born screaming and the storm outside grew heavier. It was only when he was placed on your chest that both he and the storm outside calmed down.

Homelander followed the nurses like a shadow as they cleaned the baby and ran some necessary tests to make sure he was healthy, as both a baby and a supe. You were resting in the room when Homelander came back, cradling the newborn in his arms. “My son.” He spoke softly to the baby as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re perfect.”

You sat up in the hospital bed as Homelander approached you, carefully placing the baby in your arms before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He needs a name.” You said softly, smiling down at your baby who slept soundly in your arms.

Homelander hummed in agreement as he stared down at the baby. “Storm.” He muttered softly as his eyes flicked towards yours while his hand reached out to cup the back of the baby’s head.

“Storm?” You repeated as you looked at him, your head tilting to the side and your eyebrows furrowing.

“Did you fucking look out the window when you were giving birth?” He questioned with a blank expression on his face as he quirked an eyebrow, nodding his head in the direction of the large window by your bedside.

You pursed your lips as you stared at the man. “No, I was a little preoccupied.” You muttered with a roll of your eyes before your gaze turned to your baby. Being test tube babies raised in a lab, neither you nor Homelander had a childhood. And you didn’t want that for your son. You wanted him to have at least some sense of normality. “Storm…and Liam.” You replied and Homelander’s eyebrows furrowed at the second name. All supes had a second name, a normal name.  “He needs a normal name too…a normal childhood.” You explained softly.

“He’s not normal, he’s a pureblooded supe.” Homelander reminded you as his head cocked to the side and you could see the muscles in his jaw grow tighter as he stared at you.

You sighed, your lips pulling into a tight line as you stared back at Homelander. “He’s a baby.” You reminded him softly. “Just like we were…and look how fucked up we are.” You muttered, referring to growing up with no real childhoods.

Homelander stared at you for a second before his gaze flicked down to his son. You could almost see his expression soften and he slowly nodded in agreement. As he went to finish all the last documents and birth certificate, you stayed in the room. Storm was sleeping next to you on the bed as you sat on the edge, watching the news.

Every news channel announced the arrival of your baby boy. People were lining up the Vought building with flowers and gifts, leaving them around the building. A plane with a banner flew through the air, announcing a boy had been born and people even set off blue fireworks.

Ashley stepped inside the room and her face lit up at the sight of the TV screen. No doubt she had a hand in all this extravagance. “It’s like a fucking royal from Biritan was born.” You muttered as you stared at the TV.

Ashley’s turned to you as a big grin spread across her lips. “I know, it’s fucking amazing, right?” She said and you quirked an eyebrow, staring at her with a blank look that quickly wiped off her smile.

You had but little choice to introduce your son to the world. To the thousands of people waiting outside the Vought building. Homelander cradled your son in one arm and held his other arm out for you to hold onto for support.

Not even supes were immune to the exhaustion, pain, and discomfort of birth. You held onto Homelander’s arm with a tight grip, plastering a smile on your face as you stepped outside the Vought building.

Screaming fans greeted you, and paparazzi were everywhere, taking pictures from nearly every angle. It was chaos. Chaos that disturbed your son from his peaceful sleep. Soon, light and sunny blue skies turned dark, and heavy rain poured down on the streets as your baby wailed from all the noise surrounding him.

You looked up at the darkened skies and then at the people running for cover from the rain. Then your gaze turned to Homelander who proudly smiled down at his son. His gaze then met yours as his smile grew. “See…Storm is the perfect name.” He commented and you chuckled in agreement as your gaze turned to the baby again.

[jasmines-library]

May I ask for platonic batboys x paramedic reader? The reader works the night shift, so they meet each other pretty often when dealing with criminals as she and her colleagues are doing damage control. They share gossip and find the best all night diners. Sometimes, if they're in trouble and too far from home, they can usually find her in her house.

In short can I just have some fluff of batfam with a civilian friend?

This is my first time requesting anything, plase forgive me if it's a little vague as English isn't really my first language.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: hi hi hi. Before I start anon I just want to say thank you so much for waiting patiently. You requested this like two months ago and i've been so busy that i've only just got around to writing it. Thanks so much for being awesome. This idea is so cute. I also hope that HCs are okay, I really wanted to write this for you quickly (although im not really sure i can call it quick after how long it took me to get round to it) p.s your English is perfect!

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The first time you met the boys, it was almost like fate. You instantly clicked.

Like usual you were working the night shift; a shift usually expected to be long and gruelling. But never in city like Gotham.

You had received the call from GCPD, but that wasn't uncommon.

They were dealing with some criminals in the city centre and some bystanders had got caught in the crossfire and needed medical attention.

Again, not unusual. You were a paramedic after all.

What was unusual was the gaggle of masked vigilantes milling around the scene. Not one, but four.

Usually they would have fled by now; moved on to solving crime in another part of the city, but the night was slow and so they were there to help.

Though, I would use the term 'help' loosely. They spent more time getting in the way as they tried to help.

Especially the small one, who you later learned was Damian.

You saw them more often after that.

Weather it was fate working her strange magic or weather it was the fact that you found yourself actively seeking out a swish of their capes.

They were a good laugh; witty and unafraid to tell you what they think.

If nights were slow, you would wander round the streets together, trying out all of the different diners that claimed to have the best pie in the city, but were really just as shit as the next ones.

As your relationships between the vigilantes grew and you came to know them more personally, they would often come to you for help.

Gunshot wound to the shoulder? Jason would be tapping on your window as he pleaded that you would let him in before dripping blood all over your carpet.

Feeling nauseous? Dick would be at your door with a list of his symptoms.

They grew to trust you to help them, and you were glad to do so.

(Although, you would be less than pleased when they show up on your doorstep at two in the morning on your day off)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[ilguna]

☼ borrowed time (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; finnick made sure you made it out of your games alive, and now its time to pay back the favor. all good deeds come with a price.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, injuries, blood mention, ehh gore, death, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 11.8k

--

It was a sunny August morning when you were first officially introduced to Victor’s Village, two years ago. The mayor’s secretary had been designated to give you a tour, and to explain how the house would work, now that you were a part of the community. 

“Unlike some of the other districts,” She began. “Four likes to keep their village neat and green.”

She motioned to the grass, which had been so healthy and bright that it almost looked artificial. The flowers in bloom were designated to beds with bricks. There was a cement fountain, and as you grew closer, you could see just how clear the crystal water was.

When you peeked inside, you found coins sitting at the bottom, as if the victors in the village regularly made wishes.

“You don’t have to worry about upkeep, though. We have a groundskeeper for that. If you have any issues or you see plants that are beginning to go, he needs to be notified immediately.” She said, continuing down the path. “The Capitol likes our garden the most, we frequently have photographers come to take pictures for their magazines.“

“Why?” Your mother asked.

“Because we’re one of the nicer districts.” The secretary told her, going up the steps to a house. “We’re here.”

A hand was then placed on your shoulder, as your father went to move around you, to head in first. The secretary held out her hand, shaking her head. 

“It’s customary that the victor enters first. It’s her house, after all.”

“It’s our house.” Your father said back. 

“No, it’s hers. If she were to die tomorrow, you would be moved out the same day. Come, (Y/n).” She said.

You followed her instructions, despite knowing how your father felt about control and being the head of the house. You went up the staircase, to the front door, where she encouraged you to open it. After living in a small house, barely scraping by with every paycheck your parents earned, you could finally sleep in peace knowing that your home wasn’t going anywhere.

When you opened the door, it was like opening a new chapter to your life, a new beginning. There wouldn’t be a need to look over your shoulder, to worry about how your life would turn out. It was solved. You won the Hunger Games.

The house was nice for the first month, before your family decided that they hated you. They didn’t like the circumstances in which you had been given the home. And they would rather be far away from you, in the house you’d grown up in, where you were no longer welcome. 

Now, you live in a place that sits cold, still and quiet. Despite it being a beautiful summer day, there is a weight that sits on this house. It came when the Quarter Quell had been announced in the winter, and it hasn’t left since. As if you’d forget what would be coming for you in a few months. 

How could you, though? President Snow read the card live in front of the entirety of Panem without an ounce of hesitation. He told you that victors would be reaped this year. Everyone heard it, and it’s been echoing in their minds since.

Especially you, considering for the past couple of days, you’ve done nothing but weigh the pros and cons of going back inside of the arena. It would not be for the fun and the honor of having a second title. It would not be for the benefit of more money, which had originally pulled your family out of a dark hole they were desperate to leave.

If you were to volunteer today, it would be for the family you found after you won and your family had abandoned you. It would be for the woman who showed you the love you should’ve received from your mother. For the girl you see as an older sister. For the boy who mentored you, and saved you from becoming just another tribute face from Four that didn’t make it.

There has been a lot of talk among the District Four victors about who would have to be the two tributes to go inside. There isn’t a lot of room for conversation regarding the boys, but the girls are a different story. No one can agree on who it should be, it’s a hard decision to make.

And a decision that shouldn’t be made at all. 

Which is why you have gotten closer and closer to making up your mind about being the female tribute for the Quarter Quell. If it’s not you, then it’s Mags, and she shouldn’t have to go back inside. She won over sixty years ago, she doesn’t know how vicious the arena can be, and her body won’t be able to handle the excursion.

And from what you heard, Finnick is supposed to be the male tribute. He’s agreed to volunteer, not that anyone has any real opposition. But that means he’ll be taking care of Mags inside of the arena, which can slow him down and get killed.

While you, on the other hand, can help him. You won recently, your body is still in shape, you can keep him alive. The same way he kept you alive when you needed him the most. 

You’ll be paying back the favor by doing this, making sure he gets out of the arena alive so he can come home to Four, where he’s loved the most.

It won’t be easy, but it’s what has to be done. 

You step out of your house, pulling the door shut quietly behind you. As soon as the sun touches your skin, you begin to sweat. The July heat in District Four is no joke, if you spend too much time outside, you’ll get sunburnt. And there is no affordable remedy for those who are living at the bottom.

As you leave the village, you eye the houses, half of them barren like yours due to the reaping. Everyone else has already left, they made no effort to be quiet. You would’ve gone with the group, if it weren’t for the fact that you wanted more time alone to think, before you were forced to be on camera.

The journey to the Justice Building starts alone, but the closer you get, the more people appear, coming together to walk in a crowd. Except, it doesn’t matter how thick it gets, because no one comes close to you, giving you space. A halo.

Once you get close to the stage, most of the people disappear to go to their designated spot. While you get to continue forward, to the Peacekeepers, who are awaiting your arrival. You can see the other victors have made it, standing in groups on the stage, making you the last one to arrive.

The Peacekeepers don’t need your name, they recognize your face. They move aside when you’re close, allowing you to pass. You head up the steps one at a time, taking deep breaths. The cameras will be on soon, or maybe they already are, hungry to catch the reaction on your faces.

You half-expect the regular row of chairs on the stage when you make it to the top of the staircase, but you’re met with something new, different. Usually, there’s a long row of chairs, and the victors of Four sit in the order of which they won. With you joining two years ago, it makes you the chair on the far right, one after Annie. While Mags is the first chair on the left, since she’s the oldest surviving victor. 

Well, this year there are no chairs. There are two pens on opposite sides of the stage, one for the female victors, and one for the male victors. Just like how it usually is for the teenage boys and girls of the district. However, they’re allowed to intermingle for this reaping, considering they’re not the ones going to be chosen. 

You wander to where Finnick is, with the few other male victors. He’s got his attention set on Annie, who’s being comforted by a few of the other girls. He breaks away to look at you, eyebrows already raised.

“It took you a while to get here, everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was just clearing my head.” You tell him, moving your hair out of your face. “Is Annie…?” You trail off, letting him assume what you were going to ask.

His face drops a little. “She’s having a hard time standing in the ropes, it’s bringing her back.”

“Does she know the plan?”

Finnick nods, eyes finding the ground. “Yes, and I think that’s what’s making it worse.” He clears his throat. “Mags is going to volunteer.”

“Wasn’t that always what she was going to do?” You ask, not bothering to correct him. Mags will try to volunteer, and fail, because you will move faster than she does. But that will only work if you’re not the one picked out of the bowl.

“Yes,” Finnick murmurs. “I wish it didn’t have to be her.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a voice calling your name cuts you off, causing you to look over. It’s your Capitol escort, motioning for you to join the rest of the female victors. She taps the empty spot on her left wrist to tell you that it’s almost time for the reaping to start.

“You should go. She’s been pretty anxious this morning.” He tells you.

“I’ll see you later.” You tell him, leaving. 

You join the others, who hold the rope up to help you slip underneath it easier. Mags places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to make eye contact with her so she can check on you. With her, you almost never need to tell her how you feel, she can see it. It’s nice most of the time, but right now, she might see something different, more than just sorrow.

“Your family?” She asks, speech slurred. 

“They didn’t come to visit.” You tell her, causing her to frown. You shrug, “I didn’t expect them to, anyway. I wouldn’t have let them in the house.” You give her a smile. “Besides, you’re my family, Mags.”

She touches your cheek with the back of her hand. “My daughter.”

The Capitol escort then appears, “They’re going to start in less than a minute. You’ll be on camera, do not make a scene.”

She then hurries to the boys side to give them the same warning. You wonder if these are her instructions, the mayors or Snows. You can only imagine what will happen to those you love if you were to step out of line and say something they don’t want you to.

Although, at this point, you have nothing to lose with your family. They’re out there, somewhere. You can’t find them in the sea of faces that watch the stage. A part of you knows they’re waiting to see if you’ll get chosen so they can swallow up your home. Since you won’t be there to occupy it and tell them no.

You have a feeling that the other victors of Four might tell them to leave, but they might be too caught up in the Quarter Quell to care. If only you could get the chance to tell them, yourself. They lost the right to be in that house when they decided you were a monster for fighting for your life. What else were you supposed to do, die?

Before your thought can continue, the mayor comes up to the podium, causing the citizens of District Four to hush. They listen as he tells the history of Panem, like he does every year. The speech only takes a couple of minutes. When he’s done, he reads the names of the past District Four victors, ending with you.

The escort, Chesna, replaces the mayor at the podium. She places her hands flat on the podium, a habit she started after Annie won. It was like she finally realized the impact the Games had on the survivors. Or so Finnick says.

“Happy Hunger Games,” She speaks smoothly, not an ounce of excitement in her tone. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” There’s a moment of silence. “We will start with the gentlemen.”

Chesna moves away from the microphone, heading to the glass bowl to her right. It’s not entirely unusual for her to start with the men first, sometimes she likes to change the order. She says that it keeps things exciting in the Capitol, and it keeps her from being replaced. 

As much as Snow likes order, he can appreciate unpredictability on occasion. Chesna doesn’t push her limits.

She stops in front of the table, reaching her hand inside for one of the few papers that sit at the bottom. She stirs them, giving everyone a fair chance, before picking one off the side. She carries it to the podium, where she carefully unfolds the paper.

Her shoulders fall, “Finnick Odair.”

In the matter of seconds, his life has changed. And so has your mind, solidifying your decision. No one will volunteer for him, and no one does. He steps out of the pen, taking a few steps forward to stop behind the glass bowl his name was just picked from. 

He looks over, meeting your eyes, and giving you a nod. 

“Now for the ladies.” Chesna says, voice quieter. 

She takes Finnick’s paper with her to the girls bowl. She repeats what she did for the boys, sticking her hand inside, stirring the papers, and then picking one from the middle. She pulls it out, takes it with her to the podium, and then unfolds it.

There’s a pause for a few seconds, you can hear her take a breath through the microphone. Your heart begins to beat in your chest, morbidly curious if your luck is so bad to allow you to get picked twice when given the opportunity.

“Annie Cresta.”

There’s a scream from beside you, coming from Annie. You wince at the pitch and intensity, right in your ear. Mags reaches over to comfort her, probably before she officially volunteers. This is her mistake, because it gives you the perfect window without having to rush to do it.

“I volunteer.” You speak, just loud enough to get Chesna’s attention.

She turns, eyes landing on you. “You volunteer?”

“Yes, I volunteer.” You tell her.

A hand grabs your arm, squeezing tightly. You turn to see that it’s Mags, who seems to have forgotten about Annie. She’s sobbing into her hands, either out of horror or gratitude that the female victors of Four would come to her rescue. 

Mags taps her chest, face screwed hard, shaking her head at you. Disappointment. This is not how she wanted the reaping to go. She wanted to be the one to go, to protect the girls she sees as her daughters. This was not part of her plan.

“I’ve got this.” You tell her in a quiet voice. “Trust me.”

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, unhappy. She lets you go, you step over the rope and head to your spot behind the bowl. Chesna turns back to the microphone. 

“Our tributes this year are (Y/n) (L/n) and Finnick Odair.” She moves back, away from the podium to allow the mayor to wrap up.

All he does is read the Treaty of Treason before turning in your direction, motioning for you to shake hands, keeping custom. You turn to Finnick, and find the same expression that Mags had, on his face. You hold out your hand, he takes it.

You shake once, sealing your fate.

—

“Let’s take a break.” Katniss suggests, looking between the three of you. “I need to get another look from above.”

Finnick gives her a nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He briefly looks at the wetness on his thumb before rubbing it off on his jumpsuit, shaking his head. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s thinking, because you have the exact same thing on your mind; it’s hot.

And this is coming from a pair of people who are no strangers to the heat. There have been countless times where District Four has almost broken its own blistering record. Which shouldn’t be possible. You can feel it the most in the summer, especially if you’re out there working on the water.

While golden tans are common, so are deep sunburns.

The arena is a different type of heat, it doesn’t have the dryness you get back home. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s humid, partially due to the jungle, partially because you’re trapped in a giant terrarium. Between the saltwater lake, the luscious greenery and the white hot sun—you’re being boiled alive.

There’s nothing you can do about it, either. The shade provided by the tall trees and the giant leaves are no relief from the temperature. You’re stuck dealing with wet hair and sticky skin.

It doesn’t help that you can’t find any water.

This is what Katniss will look for while she scales the tallest tree. It’s on all of your minds. You watch her wedge her toes and fingers into gaps in the bark, pulling herself up. Once she reaches the branches, she disappears, moving quicker.

This leaves you, Finnick and Peeta to enjoy each other’s company. The four of you have been running away from the Cornucopia for over an hour, trying to get distance from the Careers. You’re thirty, and you’d do almost anything for a glass of cold water.

”How’re you feeling?” Finnick asks, leaning against a nearby tree. He’s got his trident gripped in his hand loosely, tired of carrying it.

“Better.” Peeta says, rubbing his legs. “The more we walk, the less stiff I feel.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die.” You tell him, shaking your head. 

It took you all by surprise when the sparks flew after he hit the force field with his machete. For a second, you thought he might’ve swiped at a rock, and you were briefly impressed before he got thrown back, knocking you all down. 

“I’m lucky you’re our allies.” Peeta agrees, motioning at the gold bracelet on Finnick’s wrist, referencing Haymitch.

He got a bracelet, while you have nothing to show. Finnick has done everything in his power to make it clear to everyone that you’re following his lead. You weren’t meant to volunteer, Mags would never have been so cruel to agree to it beforehand. 

Haymitch listened to Finnick, despite the many times you asked him to include you on the rebel plan they were figuring out. He never did. He told you he has enough on his plate with Katniss and Peeta, the last thing he needs is another teenager to protect. 

He didn’t necessarily call you Finnick’s problem outright, but he definitely heavily implied it.

You’ll take it for now, but you have a feeling you’ll be more help than they could’ve imagined, later on down the line. You’re an extra pair of fighting hands, while Mags would not have been. And anything she can build in a moment's notice, you can too. It’s not an exclusive skill.

Besides, you don’t think Finnick actually wanted to bring Mags into the arena, he knows what would’ve inevitably happened. There’s less risk with you. You can keep yourself safe, and more importantly, him.

“We wanted to be allies from the beginning, but Katniss has more of a…” You trail off, looking into the trees, trying to find the word, “Cautious palette.” Your eyes land back on Peeta. “With others our age, that’s not really the case. Besides, Finnick can come off strong.”

Finnick scowls at you, mostly because you’re undermining him, but Peeta lets out a sigh and nods. “I think Katniss will come around to that, though.”

“We hope so.”

The rustling of leaves overhead halts the conversation, causing you to look to make sure that it’s Katniss coming down the tree, and not some jungle bird. She’s carefully lowering herself, one arm length at a time. Peeta stands at the base, hands outstretched to catch her, just in case her hand slips.

She makes it though, landing on her feet in the grass. She brushes debris off the front of her jumpsuit before turning to face you. “The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don’t know how high it goes. There’s the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large.”

“Did you see any water?” Finnick asks.

“Only the saltwater where we started the Games.” She answers, shaking her head.

“There must be some other source,” Peeta frowns. “Or we’ll all be dead in a matter of days.”

“Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere.” Katniss suggests, but she doesn’t seem all that convinced, herself. “At any rate, there’s no point in trying to find out what’s over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing.”

“There has to be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel.” You insist. 

Collectively, the four of you agree to head back down the slope a couple hundred yards, still circling to see if you’ll come across water. Katniss leads, determined to come across something. By midafternoon, it’s clear you have to stop, because all you’re doing is exhausting yourselves.

Finnick decides he wants to keep close to the force field, so Katniss takes her time to make a hard line in the spongy dirt to ensure no one gets close enough to accidentally hurt themselves. Peeta goes around nearby trees, digging in the grass to collect nuts, which Katniss initially refuses to let him eat. 

It isn’t until you’re allowed a closer look, are you able to tell them that they’re fine and the nuts are edible. You can’t place your finger on what kind they are exactly, all you remember is your time in the Training Center a couple years ago. You took the time to memorize every little detail you could for a forest arena, because that would be your biggest bet to survival.

Since you’re able to identify the nuts, Katniss lets Peeta continue to gather them. He even goes on to roast them by bouncing them off the force field. Once he’s done, he peels off the shells one by one, placing the meats on a large leaf.

Katniss guards, walking around occasionally, wiping the sweat from her face. You sit at the base of a tree, near Finnick, plucking long leaves from jungle plants to weave mats. They’re hard to get started, but once you get a pattern down, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from there. Before you know it, you’re working on your third.

“Finnick, why don’t you stand guard and I’ll hunt around some more for water.” Katniss suggests, shaking her head.

“You want to go off alone?” Peeta asks, lips pressed together.

“It’ll be faster that way.” She reasons. “Don’t worry, I won’t go far.”

“I’ll go, too.” He says, starting to move to get to his feet.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows. “I won’t be long.”

“Stay within shouting distance.” You tell her. “I’m a quick runner.”

Katniss nods, and then heads off into the trees. It’s fairly quiet between the three of you, besides the sound of nuts singeing. You keep a careful eye on Finnick, watching how far he goes, when he hesitates to move away. 

You want to tell him that there’s no reason to patrol just yet. The bloodbath is still going on, meaning a majority of the tributes are fighting for their lives. And if you do run across anyone in the jungle, there’s a seventy percent chance they’re an ally, rather than some district that got left out.

More importantly, the Careers aren’t going to be out here roaming quite yet. If you were him, you’d be saving your energy. Especially since the more he paces, the more he sweats out the water he drank this morning. You all have a better chance at sitting it out right now to see if the heat dies down before wasting your energy on meaningless tasks like guarding.

The real challenge will come tonight, when you’ll wish you could be sleeping, but you’re flinching at every little noise instead. True paranoia comes out in the dark. You remember what that was like.

It has to be another hour before the first cannon comes through, causing your fingers to freeze in place so you can listen properly. They come one at a time, making it easy to count, until it finally stops at eight.

Your hands lower to rest in your lap as you turn to look at Finnick, who has his eyes set on you. One-third of the competition has been taken out already, and you won’t be able to know who for a few more hours. 

“Sixteen left.” Peeta murmurs.

Neither of you say anything back to him.

After making a few mats out of the grass and leaves, you begin to tie them together to form one large hut. It has three walls, a floor and a roof. You’ve made it just big enough to fit three people in it at a time, assuming that one of you will always be on watch.

When you’re done, Peeta asks if you’ll make him bowls, which you agree to. They’re small and easy to put together. He fills them with handfuls of the nuts he’s been roasting, setting them aside for later.

With nothing else to do, you offer for Finnick to lay down in the hut while you take watch, but all he does is give you a look before turning away. It’s cold of him to do, and it would mean more if you didn’t know that it won’t last long. Once he’s exhausted, he’s going to look to someone else to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta. 

You’ll let him think that he can wait until you’re with Johanna and Blight, two people who are older and more responsible. You know better than that. As soon as the sun goes down, he’ll feel the effects of the day, including the heat, and then he’ll be asking you to take over.

The sound of rustling leaves causes all three of you to turn toward the noise. It’s only Katniss, bow on her shoulder, carrying something at her side. She shakes her head. “No. No water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was,” She says, holding up a skinned rodent for you to see better. “He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn’t find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius.”

“Can we eat him?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t know for sure. But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked…” She trails off, you press your lips together. 

You all very well know the danger of lighting a fire in an arena. It’s like waving the white flag. You’re going to signal to everyone that you’re here. Sure, you could probably get some time with a fire before they show up, but it won’t be worth the effort of putting it together. Besides, it’s so hot in here that sitting next to one will be torture.

Peeta has a different idea, though. He has Katniss cube the meat, and then he skewers it on the tip of a pointed stick. He lets the stick fall into the force field, causing the meat to sizzle. It’s black on the outer layer, but upon pulling the meat apart, it’s well cooked on the inside. 

It takes time for Peeta to char each chunk of meat, but by the end, the four of you are hungry. He takes his bowls and joins you in the hut, allowing you to start. You take turns on the meat, since it’s in such scarce quantities. As for the nuts, you take handfuls and pop them into your mouth.

While you eat, Finnick has many questions regarding the animal—which they settle on calling a tree rat. How high it was, how long did she watch it for before killing it, and what it was doing? She tries to make her answers detailed, but she honestly doesn’t remember the tree rat doing anything that stood out. It was just climbing on the trees, snuffing around.

The sun sinks into the horizon, bringing on the night. The conversation between Finnick and Katniss fizzles out as you gather at the mouth of the hut to watch the sky. It brightens when the Capitol seal appears, and in the far distance, you think you can make out the notes of the anthem.

The first face to appear in the sky is the man from District Five, the one that Finnick killed at the Cornucopia. This means the tributes from Districts One through Four have made it out alive. All four Careers, Wiress and Beetee, and obviously, you and Finnick.

The next is the morphling addict from District Six, then Cecelia and Woof from Eight, both from Nine, the woman from Ten, and the woman from Eleven. The Capitol seal reappears in the sky with the ending notes of the anthem, and then the sky goes dark. Only the moon remains.

There’s a moment of silence after. You close your eyes, hands flat on your knees as you take a breath. Cecelia and Woof are a tragedy, especially to you. You know—knew—both of them very well. You met Cecelia while you were mentoring for the first time, and she provided a lot of insight for you. As for Woof, she talked about him a lot, how he was one of the reasons why she did so well in her Games, even at his age. You were happy to meet him this year, even though you knew what would be coming.

If Mags had come instead, she easily could’ve died like Woof. Finnick would have done everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen, but it would’ve been a possibility regardless. Nature will run its course, no matter what you do to step in the way of it.

You open your eyes.

A silent silver parachute appears in the air, landing at the feet of Peeta. No one immediately moves to grab it.

“Whose is it, do you think?” Katniss asks after a few seconds.

“No telling.” Finnick says. “Why don’t we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?”

Peeta lets out an amused breath. He unties the cord, flattening out the circle of silk. In the center sits a small metal object, unfamiliar to you. Your face twists, you look at Finnick to see his reaction, and find it just as quizzical.

“What is it?” Katniss asks, picking it up off the cloth. 

She turns it over in her fingers, examining it, feeling every inch of it before passing it to Finnick, who does the same. He passes it to Peeta, who finally hands it to you. It’s a metal tube, tapered at one end. On the other end is a lip, a tunnel, that curves downward.

Peeta blows air through it to see if it makes noise, it doesn’t. Finnick sticks his pinky in it, testing it out as a weapon, ridiculous. 

“Can you fish with it?” Katniss asks, looking at you.

You shake your head. “It’s not anything I’ve seen before.”

Katniss rolls it back and forth on her palm, thinking to herself. She stares off into the trees, making various expressions. She wipes the sweat from her face, holding it out in the moonlight. No matter how many angles she looks at it from, it makes no sense. 

She lets out an irritated sigh, jamming one end of it into the dirt. “I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out.”

Katniss stretches, laying down in the hut, staring at the metal object in the dirt. Peeta massages her back. You slide out, wanting to stand up. Finnick watches as you take a few steps away, knife in your hand. You cross your arms, looking down at him with your eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head at you.

Less than a minute later, Katniss gasps. “A spile!” She says, sitting upright.

“What?” Finnick asks. 

Katniss grabs the object, brushing the dirt off. She holds it up to the light again, running her finger over the lip. “It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out.” She lowers the object and looks at the trees around her. “Well, the right sort of tree.”

“Sap?” You ask.

“To make syrup,” Peeta clarifies. “But there must be something else inside these trees.”

They get up at once, eyes wild and eyeing the trees, which must have water in them. Finnick plucks the spile from Katniss’s hands and goes to hammer it into the green bark of a large tree with a rock, when she stops him. “Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first.”

You reach into your waistband, grabbing out one of the smaller knives you don’t mind parting with. Peeta takes it, and gets to driving it into the tree. He takes turns with Finnick opening up the hole. Once it can hold the spile, Katniss carefully wiggles it in, and then takes a step back.

The four of you stare, waiting for something to happen. It takes almost a full minute for a single drop of water to come rolling out of the tube, dripping off the lip. Katniss goes to readjust it, changing angles, which allows a thin stream of water to begin to come out.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the sight of water. You each take turns drinking from the spile, desperate to combat the amount of sweat that has been leaving your body these past few hours. When you finally step away from your turn, coughing, you head to the hut. 

There’s a bowl with a few nuts still sitting inside, so you shake out the meat onto the flooring, and then head back to the spile. It’ll be easier to drink out of a bowl, you’ll be able to take in more after it’s been filled. The others back off long enough for you to get it halfway full, which is when thirst takes over again, and you begin to take several gulps.

Once drunk, the bowl is refilled, and the water is used to clean the sweat off your faces. The water’s warm, a disappointment, but when a breeze blows through, it cools your skin. When your thirst is quenched, you return to the hut, sitting inside with your knees pulled to your chest.

Everyone is clearly exhausted from the workout of hiking through the jungle all day. Katniss pulls the spile from the tree and ties it to her belt using a thin vine. She then comes to join you in the hut, with Peeta and Finnick following close behind.

“I can take first watch.” Finnick says, fiddling with the trident in his hands. “Let you get some rest.”

Katniss nods, no arguments coming from her. She and Peeta curl up together on the left side of the hut, leaving the entire right side to you. You and Finnick have a staring contest for a long while, and right when you go to tell him to wake you when he’s tired, he turns away and leaves.

“I’ll take next watch.” Katniss says without rolling over.

“I’ll wake you when I’m tired.” Finnick tells her.

You grit your teeth and hold your tongue. Katniss is younger than you and less responsible, but he doesn’t have an issue with her taking watch? You swear he’s completely backward. 

Either way, you take the opportunity to sleep. It doesn’t take very long, with the sound of Finnick shuffling through the grass, and the insects in the background. The background noise lulls you to sleep in the matter of seconds.

And you’re woken just as easily a few hours later by the sound of a bell echoing through the arena. You jerk into an upright position, knife in hand, squinting into the darkness. Finnick is a few feet away from you, paused and listening. 

When it stops, he turns to face you and Katniss, the only other two awake. Peeta has slept through the bells entirely. “I counted twelve.” Finnick says.

Katniss nods, agreeing. “Mean anything, do you think?”

“No idea.” You murmur.

You wait in silence for an announcement that never comes. You’re just beginning to relax, when a sparkling bolt of lightning strikes a tree across the arena. Thunder cracks, you jump at the intensity, wincing. 

“Go to sleep, Finnick. It’s my turn to watch, anyway.” Katniss says.

Finnick makes a face, even gives you a look, but he comes to join you and Peeta inside of the hut. Katniss gets up, loads her bow, and wanders over to a large rock to lean against.

You watch for a few curious minutes as the lightning continuously strikes the same tree, never moving from that one spot. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to remember this, and then suddenly it becomes insignificant enough for you to go back to bed.

A part of you doesn’t allow you to fully sleep. You drift in and out of consciousness, as every little change in noise brings you off the brink. You can hear when the lightning comes to an end, which can’t be more than an hour later, only for rain to start after. This keeps you awake for several minutes, wondering why the rain hadn’t begun sooner.

A cannon goes off, a sigh of frustration leaves you. You turn on your side, clamping your arms over your ears to block any further noises from reaching you. It works for maybe thirty minutes, before your eyes pop open at the realization that the rain has come to a sudden end. All at once.

You sit up, unhappy and groggy. Katniss spares you a glance, but she’s more focused on the trees. It’s not normal for rain to stop altogether, it’ll slowly fade out to a drizzle first. This means that the rain was artificial, started by the Gamemakers. And with how quick the lightning stopped, you’ll even bet that they did that, too…

Suspicious, you open your mouth to speak to Katniss, but the words die in your throat when you watch fog begin to slide in your direction, coming from where it was raining just moments ago. It’s thick and white, and its pace isn’t slowing, it’s steadily coming for you.

Your hand grabs Finnick’s thigh, squeezing tightly as you begin to shake him awake, hard. Katniss doesn’t really move from where she sits on the rocks, watching as the fog comes closer. A sugary smell invades your sinuses, Katniss blinks as if she’s been slapped.

You watch in horror as the fog begins to wrap around Katniss’s legs, she jumps to her feet, “Run!” She screams, which is all the confirmation you need. “Run!”

The fog is engineered.

Finnick snaps awake, on his feet in a single second, trident in hand as if he’s going to defend your camp against an intruder. You fly across the hut to pull Peeta to his feet, but it’s not easy. He’s heavy and half-asleep. It isn’t until Finnick steps in to help, do you need the Twelve tribute up.

You grab Finnick’s wrist, yanking him out of the hut and diagonally downward to the beach, away from every direction the fog comes at you. Katniss and Peeta are right behind you.

“What is it? What is it?” Peeta asks.

“Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!” Katniss urges.

You cover a good amount of ground, occasionally looking back to check on Katniss and Peeta to make sure they’re coming, but they’ve lost momentum. Peeta has to follow directly behind Katniss to watch her feet, but even then, his prosthetic leg is getting stuck in the snarls of roots.

“We’re going to have a problem on our hands.” You tell Finnick, releasing the grip you have on him.

“What?” Finnick asks, pace slowing to see what you mean.

You both turn in time to watch as Peeta takes a hand fall, almost smacking his face on a root. Katniss tries to help him to his feet, but completely freezes as she stares at him. For a second, you’re sure he’s dead, until a spasm runs up her arm, uncontrollably twitching.

“Shit.” Finnick spits, turning to run back to help.

Katniss jerks backward, causing Peeta to stumble again. By the time Finnick gets there to help, the both of them are a mess. Katniss’s arms are out of commission, and every step Peeta takes is chunky and out of character. Katniss has to wedge her shoulder beneath Peeta’s arm to help even slightly.

They make it down another ten yards before Finnick tells Katniss to run, while he carries Peeta. You don’t move from where your feet are planted in the dirt until Finnick is keeping a decent pace in front of the fog. 

Together, you travel as far as your legs will allow you. No matter how careful you try to be, the fog manages to swipe at you in several places. Your arms, your legs, up the side of your neck, on the heels of your feet. No matter what you do, you don’t stop moving, pushing past the burning pain in your thighs and calves.

Katniss trips over a root, hits the ground hand, and rolls down a hill. It’s not even thirty seconds later when the same happens to Finnick. Peeta goes flying, Finnick’s entire front half slams into the dirt, and he’s too exhausted to pick himself up. You try to slow your pace to avoid joining them, but your foot tangles in Finnick’s boot.

The impact doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. All your thoughts scramble as you roll several times before coming to a sudden stop. You’re stuck gasping for air, staring into the foliage above, not an ounce of energy left to pick yourself up to keep running.

Katniss mutters out something incoherent, and then clears her throat. “It’s stopped.”

A wave of bliss runs over your body, you close your eyes. You’re not going to die, at least not tonight.

—

The arena’s a clock, and you had a feeling it was something along those lines. After what happened early this morning, you knew the Gamemakers were up to something, there had to be another twist. It couldn’t just be the fact that victors were reaped to be this year's tributes, they had to do something to the arena, too.

You tried telling Finnick about your theory after the monkey mutt incident, but he didn’t want to listen, of course. It wasn’t until you came across Johanna, Wiress and Beetee, did it begin to really click. Especially since Wiress was stuck on loop, repeating, “Tick tock”. 

Katniss listened to what Johanna had to say about the rain last night, which had turned out to be blood. Which had her thinking about what you had to say about Gamemaker interference. And with Wiress losing her mind, she pieced it together, herself.

“(Y/n)’s right.” Katniss suddenly said. “The arena’s a clock. And Wiress knows it, too.”

The validation from them was nice, but the look on Finnick’s face was priceless. You couldn’t help the smile you gave him. It was a way to say, “See, I can be smart and helpful”. But you think that irritated him more than anything.

Peeta carefully lays Beetee in the little bit of shade the Cornucopia provides. Beetee calls out to Wiress, causing her to come over and crouch beside him. He passes a coil of wire to her—which he had risked his life to get out of the Cornucopia during the bloodbath—and asks, “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and then heads to the edge of the center island to dunk the coil in the water. She starts to quietly sing to herself, some song about a mouse running up a clock. You’ve never heard it before.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, heavily rolling her eyes. She’s had enough of them. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Suddenly, Wiress gets to her feet, ominously pointing to a part of the jungle. “Two.”

You follow her finger, and find that the fog has just begun to creep onto the beach. “Yes, look, Wiress is right.” Katniss says. “It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork,” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, as if she already knows that, and goes right back to singing to herself and dunking the coil. 

“Oh, she’s more than smart,” Beetee tells you. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss, causing several heads to turn in her direction.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” She says, walking away to look through the weapons in the Cornucopia.

Johanna is right behind her, poking around, overturning boxes. She’s searching for something in particular, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s an axe. She comes up with a pair of them, and launches one at the sun-softened gold of the Cornucopia. It sticks.

Peeta squats on the ground in the sun, using the tip of a machete’s blade to draw a large circle, a smaller circle at the center, twelve spokes, the waterline. He moves quickly, as if he’s been waiting to do this all day.

“Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta tells Katniss.

She wanders over, standing over his shoulder to look at his map. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.” She says.

“Right, so this is the top of our clock,” he says, writing the numbers one through twelve around the circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He goes on to write lightning in the wedge it belongs, moving clockwise to add blood, fog and monkeys in the next three sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” Katniss says, he adds it.

Johanna and Finnick join the three of you, curious of what you’re up to. You glance at them out of habit, but have to do a double-take when you realize just how many blades they have strapped to their bodies. Tridents, axes, knives. You think Finnick even has an extra sheath of arrows for Katniss on his back.

It makes you feel unprepared, even though you took your time to select your spread of knives yesterday, during the bloodbath. While Katniss and Finnick were searching the water and fending off the Careers, you meticulously went through every set until you found the one that would be perfect for you. A match made in heaven.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee. They shake their heads, only mentioning the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing a diagonal line on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.

Everyone nods in agreement, you look out to the jungle, curious on what else could be out there. You’ve just barely scratched the surface…

Your heart seizes in your chest at the sight of a dripping Gloss, sliding his knife across Wiress’s throat. In two jerky movements, you’ve thrown a knife at him, at the same time that Katniss has shot an arrow. While your knife slams into the center of his forehead, her arrow pierces his heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Cashmere running up the side of the island, but before you can even think of grabbing another knife, Johanna has buried an axe in Cashmere’s chest. 

You turn, attention focused on Finnick and repaying the favor, when you see Brutus. All you can do is tackle Finnick and Peeta, bringing them both down to the sand, narrowly missing the spear that ricochets off the Cornucopia. 

As you get up to follow them, Finnick pulls you back down, keeping you from moving from your spot. You watch helplessly as Katniss runs after the Careers by herself. In quick succession, three cannons sound, one after the other, confirming the three obvious deaths.

Right as Finnick’s grip loosens, and he begins to pull himself upright, the ground beneath you jerks, and you’re thrown on top of Finnick. The island the Cornucopia sits on top of begins to spin, gaining speed with every passing second, turning the jungle into one big blended blur.

You begin to slide through the sand, toward the water, due to the sheer amount of force. You try to save yourself by digging your fingers and shoes into the sand, desperate to hang on to anything, but it barely works. You almost make it to the edge of the island, feeling the mist of the saltwater on your face, when you come to a hard stop. 

You pull yourself to your knees, rubbing the sand out of the corners of your eyes, squinting. Katniss comes stumbling around the side of the Cornucopia, using it to hold herself up. From what you can tell, Peeta, Finnick and Johanna have managed to hang on.

None of you move from where you are, trying to catch your breaths and come back to reality. The dizziness begins to subside after a minute, enough to the point where you feel comfortable to be on your feet. The others are quick to follow.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

Her question causes you to take a lap around the island, searching the saltwater for the man. You find him about twenty yards out, paddling hard to come back to the group. You shed your knives onto the strip of sand, diving into the water to save him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long to reach him, and he’s still calm enough to allow you to tow him back to land. There was one time when you were in grade school—one of the younger kids was still learning how to swim. He swam out too far and he was struggling to swim back to shore. 

There’s an unspoken rule in District Four when it comes to people drowning, especially children. Even if they don’t belong to you, you go out there and save them. Their guardians could be a foot away, but if your eyes catch them first, then you need to be the one to fish them out.

Anyway, you were clearly the first to find the boy, so you went out there to get him, thinking that it was going to be easy. Obviously, the citizens of Four know a variety of swimming techniques, and you expected this kid to at least know a few. So, when you got to him, you let him grab you, thinking nothing of it.

And you almost drowned because of it.

It turns out that when people are struggling to keep their heads above water, their self-preservation kicks in. The fight or flight response. In this case, he used you as a human ladder to climb himself higher above water, pushing you down in the process. It took another two adults to come and save you after that.

Needless to say, you’re overly cautious when it comes to pulling people out of water, now. You have to be. And with a grown man like Beetee, who weighs more than you, he could push you under and keep you there. It’s a dangerous game to play.

Once you get him back to land, Peeta and Finnick work to help pull him back on the sand strip. You pull yourself up, and ring out what little clothes you have on. After the fog, the suits you were sent into the arena with completely disintegrated. You collect your knives from the sand, and follow the others back to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Katniss is soggy now, too. She holds the coil of water in one of her hands, and the bow in the other. She probably had to pull it off of Wiress’s body. In one fluid motion, she sets it on Beetee’s lap, while he cleans his glasses. When he’s done, he unravels a small bit of the wire to inspect it.

Katniss moves to be with Peeta.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says, adjusting the axe in her hand.

The others grab their respected weapons, and you watch as Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off to three different spokes. Neither you, Katniss or Beetee move from where you stand.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta says. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss informs him.

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well.” Beetee pitches in.

Katniss pauses for a moment, “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

They circle the Cornucopia, inspecting the jungle, looking for a difference in each wedge, but they can’t find any. Katniss mentions something about how the lightning tree was huge and impossible to miss last night, yet now it seems like there’s a tree like that in every slice. Johanna thinks to follow Enobaria’s and Brutus’s footsteps, but they were blown away by the wind when the Cornucopia was spinning.

“I should have never mentioned the clock.” Katniss shakes her head. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta rubs her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops out a hip, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random, with Johanna leading, and you and Finnick taking up the rear. You look back at the Cornucopia, eyeing it to make sure that what’s left of the Careers isn’t following your group. It’s clear.

“I bet you’re glad that I’m here.” You tell Finnick, who’s walking in front of you. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be injured by now.”

Finnick comes to a dead stop in front of you, turning around to glare. The others don’t notice, continuing down the sand strip. He waits to make sure there’s a distance between you two and them before he lowers his voice, eyebrows turned downward.

“No, (Y/n), I’m not happy you’re here.” He snaps. “Why would I be? I’ve been babysitting you the entire time to make sure you don’t run off and do anything stupid.”

“Who was awake when the fog came rolling in?” You shoot back, face twisted. “And who was the one that tackled you and Peeta to keep you from getting hurt by Enobaria and Brutus?” 

“I don’t need you.” He suddenly says, squinting. “In the case that you wouldn’t have been here, Johanna would’ve had my back just the same. I don’t need another teenager to watch over, and that’s exactly what you are.”

“You don’t need to watch over me.” You tell Finnick, “I can take care of myself, and I’ve done just fine this entire time.”

“Wonder why.” He says, his tone sarcastic. 

He turns around, going back to following your group.

“You’re going to eat your words, Finnick.” You tell him.

—

You watch as Beetee calls Finnick over to assist him with the lightning tree, continuing with the rebel plan. He crouches down next to the coil of wire, unrolling yards upon yards of it, putting it off to the side, but never detaching it from the rest. While he does this, he has Finnick secure the loose end tightly around a broken branch that he lays on the ground when he’s done.

They then stand on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as they unravel the coil. They spend a good five minutes just aimlessly wrapping it around the trunk before Beetee begins to create a pattern out of where his wire hits. Like it has to be in a certain spot in order for it to work properly.

By the time the wave begins, they’re beginning to finish. Beetee waits for the rumbling of the water in the distance to stop, and then he reveals the rest of the plan that he’s been keeping to himself. 

Since you, Katniss and Johanna move quickly through the jungle on your own, he wants the three of you to take the coil down to the center water, unwinding the wire as you go down. He’s very specific when he tells you to lay it across the beach at the twelve spoke, and to swim the coil out as deep as you can, making sure that it sinks when you let go.

After that, you have to run for the jungle. 

“If you leave, right now, you should make it to safety.” Beetee finishes, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.

“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” Beetee tells him. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil over to Johanna.

“Remember what happened during the fog?” You ask Peeta, raising your eyebrows.

A small frown comes over his lips, Katniss closes the distance between them. “It’s okay.” She murmurs. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone.” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

Katniss gently cups Peeta’s cheeks with her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, and then turns to face you and Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You two guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

They begin to head down the slope, you hesitate, looking in Finnick’s direction, only to find that his back is turned to you, disinterested. He’s probably just happy that he doesn’t have to worry about you for the next hour. If you had to guess, he had a conversation with Johanna early this morning about keeping an eye on you. And you know she won’t hesitate to ‘put you in your place’ if she sees fit.

It’s an unfair advantage.

You follow behind Katniss and Johanna, knife in hand, keeping an eye on the trees around you. A lot of things need to happen tonight in order for you to reach the goal, which is being rescued out of here. Haymitch has been sending you signals, as he promised, through the forms of district bread. He’s confirmed the day and time several times already, so there’s not a question in your mind when it’s happening.

Tonight, at midnight.

Haymitch has specific instructions to keep Katniss and Peeta unaware of what’s going on, because Katniss has a tendency to overthink and fuck up. And Peeta performs best when he doesn’t know that people are moving around him. In the start, it was yours and Finnick’s job to ensure that they made it out of the bloodbath alive.

Beetee and Wiress were necessary in the long run for the plan to leave the arena. It’s a shame that Wiress didn’t make it, but in the state she was in, she wouldn’t have been much help anymore. Besides managing to confirm what you said about the arena possibly being a clock.

As for Johanna and Blight, they were tasked with finding your group and joining it. They happened to come across the Three tributes in the bloodbath, rescued them, and got stuck with them. Of course, you all came together eventually, but you think if Johanna had joined any sooner, that the alliance would’ve fallen apart.

After all, Johanna had slapped Katniss not even five minutes into their conversation, yesterday. 

Anyway, you think Beetee’s trying to cause a blackout with the lightning tree. It’s no secret that the arenas are domes and it’s all a facade. Supposedly, the lightning from the sky will hit the tree, which is connected to the wire that brings it to the water. It’ll fry everything in the center, but at the same time, it should destroy the dome. 

All cameras will shut off, the rebel hovercraft will come in, take all of you in, and then take you to… wherever it was that Haymitch and Plutarch had in mind.

In the meantime, while this is happening, the trackers in your arms need to be taken out. More importantly, Katniss and Peeta’s trackers. They will be the first people the Capitol will try and capture, with the rest of you following behind in varying degrees of importance, based on your role. 

In theory, this is straightforward and easy. In action, if even one unpredicted event happens, it could screw the entire plan.

“Better hurry.” Johanna says. “I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something.”

“I’ll take the coil for a while.” Katniss says, glancing over her shoulder. “You can take it next, (Y/n).”

“Sounds good to me.” You nod.

“Here.” Johanna says, passing the coil over to Katniss.

Neither of them have let go from the coil, when you watch as the wire vibrates. And then suddenly, it springs back at you. You’re barely able to jerk out of the way before the end comes snaking up to your feet, the wire wrapped in tangled loops and curls around their wrists.

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, which is when your heart starts to pound in your chest. Someone farther up has just cut the wire on purpose, and it’ll be a matter of minutes before they’re here.

Johanna’s eyes dart to yours, and she mouths, “Now.”

For a moment, you’re not exactly sure what you’re supposed to do, until Katniss lets go of the wire, leaving only Johanna to hold it. Just as Katniss begins to load her bow to  protect herself, Johanna swings the coil back and slams it into the side of Katniss’s head.

Oh.

Johanna drags a half-conscious Katniss down the slope and underneath a ledge of dirt, where the grass and ferns hide her well in the dark. She sits on Katniss’s chest, knees pressed to her shoulders. There’s not even a moment of hesitation when she slices through Katniss’s forearm, right where they insert the tracker.

The sound of greenery rustling is what breaks you away, eyes narrowing on some dark figures coming down the jungle. You get into a crouch, carefully backing down to be next to Johanna, who’s crushing the tracker against a root. When she’s done, she wipes her bloody hands on Katniss’s face.

“Stay down!” Johanna hisses, getting off of her.

“They’re coming.” You tell her, pointing at the tributes that are getting closer, it has to be the Careers. “Let’s run this way and try to lead them back up.”

“I’ll go first.” Johanna says, just before taking off.

She makes a lot of noise, you think you can even hear Enobaria and Brutus shouting after you two. You try to keep close, but some of her movements are unpredictable, trying to lose your opponents in the darkness of the trees. However, they must have planned for a chase, because you watch Enobaria split off, heading back to the lightning tree.

“She’s going back to the tree!” You shout to Johanna.

“Split off!” She yells back at you. “I got him!”

At the next opportunity, you round a tree and begin to haul ass back to where the other half of the group should be. It sounds like Brutus continues to follow Johanna, so you don’t bother with waiting to make sure she’s okay. She’s got her axe, and she’s one of the fiercest tributes there are.

You’re nearing the tree when the sound of clicking begins—the insects from the eleven sector have come to life. You have less than an hour to gather everyone and get out of the arena alive.

You can see the back of Enobaria’s ponytail swishing, as she breaks through the treeline and goes hurdling to the only person in the clearing. It’s Beetee, the figure is too short to be Finnick.

“Hey!” You shout, trying to defer her attention, but she’s already swung her sword at Beetee, and she’s got him good.

He falls to the dirt, groaning, gripping a spot on his side. When Enobaria turns to face you, the blood at the tip of her weapon shines in the moonlight. She bares her pointy teeth in a sick smile.

“You want a taste?” She asks, coming toward you.

“Bring it.” You tell her.

You let her swing at you, and you deflect her with the blade of your knife, which holds up well under the momentum. You shove back at her, causing her to stumble, giving you enough time to lead her away from Beetee, and back out into the trees. 

You don’t go far when a blast of electric air comes through the jungle in a wave. The hairs on the back of your neck stand, goosebumps covering your arms. The last time this happened, Peeta drove himself into the force field, and it almost killed him.

Did Beetee…?

A cannon blasts.

You stop and lunge back at Enobaria, knife aimed for her throat, but she blocks you off, throwing you to the ground. You tumble, and get back to your feet in time to jerk away from her blade, which slams into the dirt.

“Katniss! (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Johanna!”

“Finnick!” You call back, Enobaria glowers.

“(Y/n)!”

“Quick!” You shout back at him, jumping to tackle Enobaria.

She doesn’t move in time, allowing your shoulder to slam into her stomach. You hit the dirt, almost flying over the top of her, but you manage to catch yourself on a root, grounding you. With the knife in your hand, you go to bring it down to stab her anywhere.

She almost grabs your wrist, but her hands are too slippery, either from blood or from sweat. The knife slams into her side, and you manage to pull it out and stab her again before there’s more shouting, making you look up.

“Katniss!” A different voice calls, it’s farther away. “Katniss!”

“Peeta!” It has to be Katniss responding, judging by the way she’s screaming. How did she get so close to the tree? “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” She shouts. “I’m here! I’m here! Peeta!” 

You watch as Finnick comes barreling through the trees, right past where you are with Enobaria. She’s still struggling beneath you, fingers reaching for her sword. You bring back the end of your knife, slamming the butt of it against her forehead with as much force as  you can muster, knocking her out, and hopefully giving her a concussion.

You trip over her body, falling into the leaves. Finnick stops several feet ahead, turning back to see who it is.

“Go!” You motion for him to keep running. “Get Katniss, I’m fine!”

He hesitates, but ultimately ends up listening to you, going for the lightning tree. You manage to follow loosely, taking your time, assuming that it's another ten minutes before the lightning is to begin.

Just as you cross the treeline again, the hair on your arms fly up, stick straight, warning you of what's to come. You can see Katniss’s arrow is aimed in Finnick’s direction, but he’s cluelessly walking into it.

You open your mouth to shout a warning, but the words die in your throat. Suddenly, she changes her mind, turning robotically to the force field behind her, pulling an arrow back. It isn’t until she releases it, do you see the shimmering gold wire attached to the arrow.

The lightning strikes the tree, a flash of white flies up the wire and straight back into the dome, causing it to burst into a blue light. The shock wave just a few minutes ago has nothing on this one.

You’re thrown through the air, crash to the ground, breath sucked from your lungs. As you try to get a hold of your breathing, you go to reach for your knife, just a few inches away, but you’re stuck. You can’t move. 

All you can do is watch as the dome shuts off, blacking out the arena for just a few seconds, and then it explodes. In the blink of an eye, the forest lights on fire, the heat of the flame licking at your sensitive skin.

Just as the sky begins to fall, a hovercraft materializes, a claw dropped. It has to be the rebels, coming to save you. You watch as one tribute is saved, it vaguely looks like Beetee. A second one is scooped up, bronze hair shining in the blaze, that has to be Finnick. On the third time, you think it’s Katniss, she’s the only girl that was in the area.

You watch as the claw disappears inside of the hovercraft, and you wait for it to be sent back down again, but the longer the seconds drag on, the more you begin to worry. They’re going to come back down again, right? They’re going to get everyone out of the arena, that’s the plan—

Until the hovercraft blends back into the sky and disappears, leaving you behind.

[pbelfz]

Title: Lessons in Submission Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader Includes: daddy kink, teacher/student, controlling behavior, stalking? PB's Masterlist

You peered through the crack between two books on the shelf.

He smiled again as he leaned over her, offering that gentle, warm chuckle you loved. You watched him gesture to something in her textbook, and the girl followed his finger diligently as he spoke.

An underclassmen. You didn’t know her.

You pulled back, sighing through your nose as you finally placed the book you were holding in its correct spot, blocking your view of Izuku. Wrapping your fingers back around the metal of the bookcart, you pushed it from behind the stacks, out to where Izuku could see you.

His current pupil was too enthralled in her work and didn’t notice the sudden slack in Izuku’s attention; he glanced at you, intending to catch your eye. His gaze lingered on your choice of clothing today, wondering if it was allowed to wear such a short skirt on campus. You paid him no mind as you reached upward, placing another book on the higher shelf. You felt the burn of his stare as you stood on your tip-toes, purposefully pushing your lower back out slightly, almost teasingly, as your skirt rose a little.

Izuku shifted in his place, looking back down at his student’s progress. He tapped his finger on the polished library table, pressing his weight into his palm as he watched her complete the rest of her trigonometry. Tutoring was one of his many side-gigs – one that led him to you. Izuku was a teacher at U.A. full-time and a pro hero part-time, but he found he enjoyed the art of helping others in more mundane settings. You started working at the Tokyo University library just a few months ago, and you grew closer with Izuku due to having to share the same space. At first, he hadn’t been here too frequently because of his other jobs, but now it was difficult not to run into him. You read him accurately upon first meeting, seeing him as the fidgety young staff whose button-ups fit his muscles just tightly enough.

So, this is the hot tutor that all of the girls have soaked panties for, you thought when you first saw him.

Except your soaked panties were the only ones Izuku wanted. You knew that now.

Something about keeping what you two had a secret always made Izuku want to push the boundaries. He glanced at you again; if you were in the same room as him, he always kept you in sight. He’d always been that way since before you introduced yourself.

You moved. You were no longer by the bookshelves. Where are you, my angel? Izuku peered around the library. Oh, found you. You’re back by the front desk. The inside of Izuku’s cheek rolled between his back teeth; if he were alone with you, he would’ve reminded you to let him know before you left his sight. You had a bad habit of wandering, and when you two were together, Izuku often found himself keeping a hand or arm resting on you to keep you near him. That, and maybe it satisfied a need to touch you.

“Mr. Midoriya?”

Izuku’s head snapped down to see that his student had finished her trigonometry worksheet a few moments ago.

“Are you okay? You just started staring off,” she observed. Izuku shook his head, leaning back over her to check her worksheet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” he skimmed her math, but it wasn’t exactly registering, especially as his gaze continued to flicker up to you.

A male student approached you at the front desk, giving you a familiar smile and nod. Izuku’s chest thrummed when he saw you return the gesture with your own lively magnetism, giving the boy a smile as he took some books out of his backpack. Izuku’s jaw tightened, and his student noticed his finger tap on the table again. Her gaze crept up his arm to his face, but by then, he had already looked back down, masking his previous irritation.

“I think you should look this one over again, Sai-san,” Izuku uttered, pointing to an equation in the middle of his student’s worksheet. “It looks like you mixed up your ratios for–,” your laughter over by the front desk suddenly cut Izuku off. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was definitely over the preferred volume level of the library. Izuku’s eyes quickly found you, leaning forward in your chair, pushing your chest up just a bit against the library table, as that same boy from earlier continued to chat you up. A grin was plastered on your face as you talked to him, and Izuku knew you were doing all of this on purpose.

This is because I’m not giving you attention, isn’t it, (Y/n)?

Izuku sighed, standing upright and no longer leaning over his student. “I’ll be right back.”

He strode over to where you and that boy were at the front desk, and you saw him coming as soon as he left the small study table in the corner. He placed his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he approached.

“Excuse me,” he spoke professionally and quietly in tone. This was a library, after all. Other students were studying and reading here. You were already watching Izuku, but the guy you were talking to – one of your classmates – turned his head to see the tutor standing behind him a few paces. You sat back in your chair, almost trying to appear like the well-behaved library assistant Izuku knew you could be.

“I’m trying to teach one of my students over there, and you guys are just being a little loud,” Izuku flexed his authority, the same way he flexed the forgiving tug on the corners of his lips. Your classmate turned away, looking to grab the books he was checking out.

“I was just leaving, sir,” your classmate says before bowing and, true to his word, taking his leave. He must hate confrontation.

Unfortunately, that left you and Izuku together. You shifted in your seat as you glanced back up at him; his small grin fell into a frown, something you didn’t see often when you two were in the school buildings.

You anticipated a further scolding or at least a disapproving sigh. You didn’t expect him to simply turn around and head back to where his student sat in the corner of the library, hands in his pockets.

Somehow, that upset you more.

Izuku waited in his car about two blocks down from the campus.

Classes ended, and the extra study sessions were over about twenty minutes ago. He scrolled mindlessly through his phone, glancing up occasionally each time someone passed on the sidewalk. You were taking longer than normal today…

Gentle taps on his passenger side window broke him from his thoughts.

You smiled at him, waving and gesturing to the locked door. Izuku wordlessly unlocked the car for you.

You plopped down into the seat beside him, and with you came all of your temptations. You must’ve dabbed your perfume on rather generously this morning because Izuku could easily identify it as the Chanel Chance Eau Tendre you keep on the top of your dresser.

You place your backpack between your feet on the floor. Izuku doesn’t give much of a greeting as he starts his car, but you lean over, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. He doesn’t look over at you, only giving a small smile.

You’re cheeky. Eyeing him, you place a hand on his inner thigh, close to his groin; you always loved how dense with muscle he was. You hold back a giggle, biting your lower lip, as Izuku keeps his gaze forward on the road. He knew you wanted attention. His brow became taut as he brought a hand to his chin, letting the other one rest on the steering wheel, and that was your only hint that, perhaps, you should give him space.

“Izu,” you hummed, pulling your hand back from him. Izuku didn’t answer, but it was only because he was trying to decide how to best approach this.

“Daddy,” you mewled, turning more towards him. That got him to glance at you before looking back at the road. As he came to a stoplight, he ran a hand through his forest curls and down the back of his neck.

“Your new friend seemed to like your outfit today,” he grumbled, turning his head away from you. You blinked.

“What?”

Izuku turned a corner as the light turned green.

“At the library.”

“That’s just Kujou. We take Logic together.”

Izuku’s lip tightened. “When’d you get that skirt? I didn’t buy that for you,” he redirected the topic slightly. His tone was no louder than a mumble as he dragged on, his face contorting into a scowl as he kept his eyes on the road.

He heard the pout in your voice without even looking at you. “You don’t like it? I went shopping this weekend. I thought–,” Izuku cut you off.

“We’ve talked about wearing things like this outside, (Y/n).” He was stern, and you often struggled with reading between the lines of your relationship: was he actually upset about this? So, you did what you do best around him. You froze. You shut your mouth. Getting a little huffy, you settled further into the passenger seat, your arms crossing in front of you as you gaze out of the window.

Izuku shot you a glance out of the corner of his eye before shaking his head.

You looked down at your outfit. It’s not even that short, you wanted to argue, but you knew it would’ve been in vain. The hem of the cotton came up to your mid-thigh, and if you tried to tell him you honestly just wanted to tease him while he worked, it would somehow backfire on you. It has in the past.

Izuku unlocked his apartment, stepping back to allow you inside first before closing the door behind him.

You dropped your backpack on the floor and kicked off your shoes before pivoting, meeting Izuku’s eye, while Izuku neatly hung his messenger bag on the coat rack by the door. You were used to the routine. He vaguely gestured to your clothing.

“Strip.”

You did as you were told, keeping your eyes on him, gauging his reaction. Izuku looked unimpressed as he followed your hands as they first pulled your crop top over your head, exposing your chest and tummy. Izuku’s own hands found themselves inside of his pockets – perhaps as a self-handicap – as yours pushed your skirt down your hips. You shimmied, and the skirt fell down your thighs to your feet, soon followed by your panties. You reached behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor with your other articles of clothing, before you stood completely bare in front of your boyfriend.

Izuku approached, his gaze zeroed in on your chest, foremost. You stood proud and tall, even though he towered over you, letting him inspect you. You felt his eyes drink you in as he looked you over, searching for any imperfections. He circled you slowly, the tips of his fingers coming to gently stroke your side. He was around the back of you now. His light touch traveled to your neck, brushing your hair to the side, admiring the few hickeys he left the last time you were here. You closed your eyes, tilting your head to show him better, like a prized purebred. He always talked about how proud he was to have his very own virgin, after all. How lucky he was to have scooped you up – such a pretty, little, dainty thing. He cupped your neck, offering a small, loving caress as a reward for your compliance as he slowly moved to the other side of you.

He did this each time you came over. You knew to get naked as soon as you entered his apartment now. He always told you he just wanted to take time to admire you, but sometimes, like today, he didn’t seem happy about doing it. You often questioned what his true intention was.

Circling back to stand in front of you with a hand stroking his chin, Izuku finally pulled his eyes away from your nudity. He sent a nod towards the back of his apartment.

“Bedroom. Leave your phone on the table.”

You sat naked on the floor with your feet underneath you, just like he trained you, waiting for him to enter. You always found your nails digging into your thighs while you waited for him, wondering if today would be the day you two would go all the way; he normally pulls back after foreplay, insisting intercourse should be something memorable for you, considering it would be your first time. You didn’t know how tonight would go, considering he still seemed to be in a bad mood.

He entered the room a few minutes later, tie removed, and you straightened your posture for him, watching him from the corner of your eye. He wasn’t looking at you, though. He was scowling down at your phone, scrolling through your texts, contacts, pictures, anything he could find.

He did this from time to time. You let him. It was within the boundaries of your relationship.

He stood right in front of you as he clicked on one of your contacts. “Arata? That’s a name I haven’t seen before.”

You piped up immediately. “That was the boy at the library. Sir.”

Izuku’s frown deepened. “I’m deleting it.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nodded, keeping your head down. It was against the rules to make eye contact unless told.

Izuku set your phone down on the bed behind you two before finally taking you in. How perfectly docile you were, propping yourself up on the wooden floor for him. He gripped your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him.

“All contacts have to go through me first. You know that, baby.”

Your eyebrows screwed upward as you tried to defend yourself, tried to tell him you two just had to work on a project together, but Izuku drew his free hand back and brought it down in a quick, sharp slap across your cheek, sending your neck in the other direction.

Your face stung with red hot pain as you winced, keeping your eyes closed. Still, you persevered, allowing him to yank your head back to face him.

“Tell me what you did, sweetie,” his tone carried a sweet remedy underneath his usual timbre, but you knew better. His thumb gave your aching cheek a light stroke. You blinked up at him.

“I,” you took a breath, steadying yourself as you tried to remain calm. This wasn’t the first time he struck you like this, but each time, you were always on the verge of pulling your safe word. “I got his number without your permission,” you met his eye, giving him a pout to lessen the punishment even the slightest amount.

Slap.

This time, there was no coddling. He let your head hang there for a minute, and it took everything in you not to cry in front of him. You knew if you took this, he would reward you. Your ears rang, and you felt the skin of your cheek swell this time. Still, you eventually straightened in front of him, lowering your head to appease him.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Izuku was your first exposure to a relationship like this, and while he respected your desire to take things slow, he couldn’t help but push. He had needs, too, you know? Plus, he was a teacher of sorts, and teaching you about the world of pleasure made him feel that much more control over you.

“Spread your legs wider, baby,” he guided, his head nestling between your thighs. You always became timid with his face so close to your core like this, even with the sunset dimming the light in his bedroom. He tied your arms behind your back in an armbinder knot with the shibari rope you two use. You ached, but the blankets beneath you provided some sort of comfort that Izuku didn’t give you.

Alas, you did as he told, and opened your legs more, welcoming the pecks he gave down your inner thigh which eventually reached the lips of your cunt. You shuddered, your back arching.

“Already dripping, I see…,” Izuku muttered. He liked to talk to himself, and you only answered with a whimper as one of his thick, scarred fingers swiped up your cunt, collecting some of your slick. Izuku sucked it into his mouth with a satisfied moan. He leaned up, giving you a deep kiss so you could taste yourself.

“You like when I’m a little rough with you, don’t you?”

You nod anxiously, wriggling beneath him. The mattress dipped as he moved back down between your legs, his lips fully enveloping your pussy. You gasped, your legs tightening around his shoulders.

Izuku liked to take his time with you. He could be mean, but fuck, did he worship you. His tongue lapped at your lower lips, dipping inside from time to time and sucking at your clit. He pulled back only to add his fingers, slowly finger-fucking you as he watched his work with hungry eyes. You wanted so badly to grab his head and shove it back down into your needy cunt, but the rope only dug into your skin, preventing you from moving. So, your hips made up for your lack of control and gyrated against Izuku’s fingers, circling them in time with the curl of his digits. Izuku licked his lower lip, coming back down to flick his tongue against your clit as he sped up his pace.

“Cum on my face, baby. Now,” it was a command.

You let out a throaty moan as you came, shuddering and pulling Izuku closer into you with your legs. He sucked on your clit, relishing in how you gushed on his fingers, down his wrist, and all over his mouth. Once he felt your thighs loosen around his head, he sat up, removing his briefs fully, as they’d been the only things left restricting him.

He lifted both of your legs to rest on one of his shoulders, and your stomach fluttered. You two have grinded before, and as you come down from your high, you felt yourself almost flinch at how the head of cock brushes against your clit. You almost wanted to push him away from being too sensitive, but yet again, the rope prevents you.

“Izu–,” you started to say, but the man in front of you – the man with your legs hoisted on his shoulder – glances up at you, sending you a scowl you weren’t prepared for.

“Daddy,” you quickly corrected yourself, wriggling your hips against him, feeling his cock catch on your cunt before pushing up between your thighs. Izuku bit his lip, his gaze flickering between your pussy and your face.

“Yes, babygirl?”

You didn’t want to break your role, but you sent him a knowing look, one that asked him, ‘Are we doing this?’

Izuku didn’t offer a complete answer, only bending forward and giving you a slow kiss on the lips, followed by another peck. “You know the safe word.”

Your stomach tightened, even as Izuku glided his cock up and down your slit. You practiced breathing. Deep inhale, deep exhale. Izuku watched his cock slowly enter you, your pussy lips stretching so beautifully around his thick cock. He felt your body tense, and that was when he glanced up at your face. You strained, eyes closed as you tried to make room for him.

“You’re doing so good, my good little girl,” Izuku praised as you slowly, very slowly took him in inch by inch. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “So fucking warm.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as Izuku just couldn’t keep his mouth from overflowing with praise.

“Fuck, look at you swallowing me up,” he shifted, leaning over you and pressing your legs back, exposing both of your sexes. “Look,” he demanded.

You opened your eyes, tears quickly coming to the surface as you looked down between you two. His cock was only about halfway inside of you; he didn’t know how your tiny little cunt could take him. He pressed your thighs back against your chest as far as he could; he wanted to watch your pussy as he fucked you for the first time.

Once he was entirely seated inside of you, his jaw tightened, and he relished in your warmth. You breathed through your mouth, throwing your head back and feeling so, so fucking full. Izuku tested the waters, pulling his hips back slowly, and you whined.

“It’s Daddy’s turn now, okay?” Izuku reassured you, coming down to kiss away the stray tears that fell down your cheeks. You nodded, your eyes clamping shut as you felt his cock slowly stroking your inner walls.

“Fuuuuck,” Izuku dragged, leaning back and watching as his cock disappeared inside of your cunt with each thrust. He held back for you at first, but it was getting harder and harder with each buck of his hips.

His pace increased, and eventually, the pained expression on your face loosened to one of pleasure, and Izuku knew he had you. He felt his balls tighten as the sloshing sounds of your pussy echoed throughout the room.

“Such a sloppy little cunt,” you heard him grunt from above you. His endless pounding had your eyes rolling closed.

“Just,” his thrusting interrupted your speech, “Just for you, daddy.”

Izuku’s grip on your thighs tightened as his hips slammed into you at an unforgiving pace, leaving you almost screaming his name.

You felt his thick cock twitch as his pace suddenly slowed, his hips only rocking steadily as he shuddered. He let out a deep groan, and you gasped as you felt warm spurts of cum hit your cervix for the first time. Izuku pressed his legs into your chest, trying to catch his breath as a light sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies. He gazed down at his cock still inside of you, letting himself finish releasing inside of you. You whimpered as he slowly pulled himself out of you, and as his cock left you, his cum dripped out and down your cheeks, making him groan.

You watched the sight with him, wriggling your hips as best you could.

“Daddy, you made a mess…,” you managed to whine, still breathless.

Izuku couldn’t tear his gaze away from your beautiful, dripping core, covered in a mixture of your juices, as he slowly knelt between you two, releasing your thighs. You let your legs rest on the bed, and Izuku pulled one over his shoulder as he gave a kiss to your clit. His tongue swiped up your messy cunt.

“Shhh, Daddy will clean you up, babygirl.”

[coco-loco-nut]

Fresh Out The Slammer

pairing: Arthur Leclerc x Reader

summary: Maybe you have always loved the Leclerc boy you grew up with.

masterlist ttpd masterlist

________

You board the plane from America to Monaco, never happier to get away from your home and get to the Leclerc home. The flight seems to pass quickly since you sleep through most of it, and you are picked up by Arthur from the airport. You look different, more mature, more beautiful, but it was clear something was weighing on you from the months you were away.

"I missed you," Arthur hugs you, you hide the blush that covers your face. You aren't sure when your crush on your childhood best friend developed, but what you don't know is that Arthur harbored one for you too.

"I missed you too, 'Thur," you climb into the car, looking out the window on the familiar drive. After you told the Leclerc family you were arriving a month earlier than expected, Pascale had been asking your mother what happened to cause you to come early, but no one had been able to get you to talk.

"Come play on my stream with me, I'll let you use my sim," Charles begs once you get to the Leclerc home. Arthur had to go do something, and Pascale enlisted her middle child to drag you out of your room.

"Only because you offered your sim," you grumble, sliding on your shoes as you follow Charles to his car.

"We will be back for dinner, Maman," Charles calls to his mom. When you get to Charles's apartment, he quickly starts the stream and hands you a controller. After a couple hours of gaming and sim racing, he ends the stream.

"Okay, what's really going on. You're never that distant around Arthur and Maman," Charles asks, moving to sit across from you on the couch.

"Let me think of how to say it in French," you tell him, your brain switching to English for a moment. You only speak French or Italian when not in America or England. "My boyfriend cheated on me and we broke up a few months ago, just don't tell anyone," you say. Charles is basically your older brother.

"I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it? I promise it will stay between us," Charles gently offers. You throw your head back and sink into the couch a little.

"Things got rough. He couldn't -wouldn't- understand why I was always away for racing or training. Last summer was hard, when I got back in the fall things just got worse. Dinners were silent and we were just bitter. We fought more and more. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and he'd say her name in his dreams," you fight the tears back, wanting to power through.

"It's okay, you don't have to say more than you need to," Chales's hand rests on your shoulder.

"I was chained to the relationship. It was like one good hour cast a spell of hope that things might be okay, and the two years of working for the relationship would be worth it. I never thought I'd think of that relationship like jail," you let out a bit of a cynical laugh.

"It will be alright then, no? You did your time," Charles gives you a little grin, one that you return.

"Yeah, I'll be alright, just gotta get away from all of it," you reassure Charles.

"Alright, let's get back before we are left without dinner," Charles changes topics.

"Thanks," you really are grateful that Charles listened.

"I only have one question. Why haven't you talked to Arthur about it?" Charles asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to prove him right that it was a toxic relationship," you know you are lying to yourself, and Charles knows it too, but he accepts your answer.

Dinner runs smoothly as you and the Leclercs catch up, you effortlessly skirt around the topic of your ex. Later that night you sit outside, lost in thought. Arthur watches you for a couple minutes before moving to sit beside you. Both of you don't say a word. Artur wraps an arm around you and you rest your head on his shoulder. He notices your tear-stained cheeks but still doesn't say a word, electing to wait for you to take the initiative.

"We broke up," you whisper after a few minutes. Arthur still says nothing, the only way you know he heard it is because his hand gently rubs your shoulder.

“I feel like I'm finally free from being locked up. I shouldn't be this happy yet this sad," you say after another minute of silence.

"You were too good for him anyway, he didn't even like racing, so he didn't understand what an amazing person you are, and how lucky he was," Arthur doesn't quite say 'I told you so', but he does try to bolster you.

"I know. You have said as much in our letters," you can't help the small grin that forms. You and Arthur write to each other when you are in America, despite texting it is a fun way to talk. It's expressive, intimate, every word chosen carefully. Sometimes you sent him the latest poetry you wrote, a hobby you picked up while travelling, and othertimes it was mundane life updates.

A week later, you and Arthur attend an F1 driver's preseason party. You are thankful that you look good as the cameras flash when you and Arthur trail behind Charles. Arthur has an arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

A couple dances and drinks later, you find yourself leaning against a rail on one of the clubs outside patios. You don't smoke, but you have a recent habit of lighting a cigarette and letting it burn, watching the ashes fall onto the ledge. You gather the ashes and brush them off as the Max Verstappen approaches. Charles introduced you to him once, but you didn't get to talk much, even though you are in the Red Bull Junior Team.

"May I?" He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, you hand him your lighter. With a nod of thanks as you light the cigarette, he takes a drag.

"I didn't realize Formula One champions smoked," you break the ice.

"I didn't realize future Formula Three champions did too," Max gives you a small smile.

"I don't, I just watch them burn," you shrug, eyes searching for Arthur in the crowd.

"Then I don't need to worry about Charles saying I'm a bad influence on his future sister-in-law," Max chuckles and you blush.

"It's not that obvious, is it?" you look at the older driver who also turns to look at you.

"No, but you and Arthur have looked at each other like that for years, since I met you. Good luck in Prema, you have a lot of potential," Max compliments you, snuffing the cigarette and tossing it to the ground. You mutter a thanks before following him in, looking for Arthur. You find him chatting, a smile on his face, making the butterflies in your stomach more noticeable to you.

"Want to dance, Arthur?" you hold out your hand. He quickly excuses himself from the group and joins you on the dance floor.

Arthur watched as you'd disappear from the house to walk to the local park, probably to write poetry. Sometimes Arthur would join you, sitting beside you on the swings as you wrote. At night when the house was quiet, he'd sit beside you and read, or watch a movie, listen to music, anything to keep you going and healing before the F4 season. What Arthur didn't know was all those nights were what fueled the poetry you wrote the next day. You kept them in a shoebox, hidden in the closet in your bedroom in the Leclerc home.

As the season starts, you stand at the starting line with Arthur, ready to take on your first F3 free practice. Charles gave both of you some advice, but he trusted the two of you and Prema.

You and Arthur both do well over the weekend, placing highly and spending time in your respective development teams' garages.

Something changes after that, natural flirting and seeking each other out. Once night, sometime between Australia and Imola, you kiss. The tension and build up started when you arrived in the winter, and something between you snapped. The two of you are at the starting line of something great.

You and Arthur were walking along the beach when it happened, a full moon, empty beach, the mediterranean waves crashing gently on the shore. He held your hand gently as you walked, physical touch being more and more common between you too.

“I’m glad that your ex broke up with you,” Arthur says out of the blue. You whip your head around to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Arthur lets go of your hand.

“Because I can do this,” he whispers, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his waist for stability and to bring him closer.

That moment changed everything. He’d wait for you to get back from late night runs with hot chocolate and a cuddle. When you traveled with Prema for races, the two of you were inseparable, and you found yourself in the Ferrari garage a lot more than a Red Bull driver should.

Despite Charles inviting the two of you out after the races, you and Arthur go out with your group of friends in F3.

“You are the American girl of my dreams,” Arthur tells you, lips close to your ear as you dance to the music.

“I love you,” you reply, “I think I always have,” Arthur pulls you impossibly closer to him, capturing you in a kiss.

“I love you too,” his smile brightens the dark club.

“Get a room you two,” your teammate yells at you. As Arthur drags you from the club, you make a silent promise to yourself that you won’t screw things up. Because maybe one day, you could see yourself marrying the Leclerc boy who looks at you like you are everything.

[tinytalkingtina]

Cool Whip

Rating M | WC 1330 | Ao3 link

Tags: getting together, first kiss, innuendo, bisexual steve and eddie, eddie speed-runs a sexuality crisis, inappropriate use of whipped cream, fast burn (these two have never gone slow in their lives), fade to black

Written for the STWG July 28 prompt "Oh. Oh."

Steve stared at Eddie in complete silence.

Eddie fidgeted under his gaze. “So. Perhaps. In this instance, giving into the gremlin that lives inside my head was not the best choice I could have made,” he said sheepishly.

“Really Edward. You don’t say.” Steve was still holding the incriminating weapon, had been since he confiscated it. Every so often he twirled it around in his hands.

“What if you uhhh, did it back to me? We’ll be even?” he offered. “Come on, it��s fine, I won’t even fight you on it!”

“Can’t do that because we’re at my house, not yours, and this was my last pair of clean pants and underwear. So, unless you want to walk around like Winnie the fucking Pooh for the rest of the night, maybe we don’t spray whipped cream down your jeans too.” 

Steve ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m going to go take a shower and wash this shit off of my junk now, ‘kay? Just put the ice cream back in the freezer, we can do a movie night together another time, I guess.” Disappointment was written all over his face. Oops, Eddie didn't realize how much he must have been looking forward to watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

As Steve turned around to go, Eddie knew he should let him. Unfortunately, Nosnum Eidde, the impulsive gremlin living in his brain, was still firmly in control.

“Wait, let’s not waste it. Let me clean you up!” He blurted out.

What?

“What?” Steve was staring again, this time with eyes wide in confusion.

“Let me…clean up the mess I made. On your body.”

“Eddie I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

It did sound like a joke didn’t it. But if it was a joke, why was the thought sending sparks of lighting along his spine. 

“I don’t. Don’t think I’m joking right now,” Eddie said slowly. “Give me a minute here.”

It wasn’t like his brain had a perfect track record when it let Nosnum have the wheel. Like those times it had told him that he could climb the tallest tree in the trailer park without getting stuck at the top, or point out how hypocritical O’Donnell was acting during class without getting detention. 

But it had also gotten things right on occasion. And with Steve standing so close, it was busy pointing out things Eddie hadn't thought about before: like for example, when Steve chewed on his lips in agitation, they became invitingly plump. And, despite the growing damp spot on the front, those jeans were still hugging Steve's ass perfectly. 

Perhaps most importantly, he wasn't rushing forward to punch Eddie's lights out for insinuating, well. He just stood there with a faint blush coloring his cheeks. In his house, a place currently unoccupied by anyone else, not even Robin. While wearing a shirt that was just on the wrong side of too tight with his hair coiffed for a night out and oh my G-d—

“Steve…was tonight supposed to be a date?” Eddie was shocked the question fell out of his mouth so steadily.

The blush on Steve's face grew darker. “I mean, sort of? Was getting mixed signals from you but—yeah.” He shrugged. “We haven’t been able to hang out one on one since I figured things out. Thought I’d see how tonight went before making a move.”

“Oh. You. You had a plan to seduce me.” Eddie wheezed a little. "You like me like that?"

“I uh, kind of put two and two together about a month ago. Had a really long talk with Robin, and turns out apparently normal men don't want to, you know, make out with their guy friends. Or imagine Harrison Ford holding a whip when he’s all sweaty and—wait, what about you, Mr. 'Propositioning My Friends To Use My Mouth?’ How long have you known?"

“About five minutes consciously.” Eddie said in a strangled voice. “Maybe ten if we consider what I did to your pants subliminal foreplay.”

Steve snorted. The gremlin in Eddie’s brain was convinced this made him even more attractive. Huh, maybe this had been going on for longer than he had realized, if a snort could set him off.

“Not really sure what submarines have to do with Cool Whip, but yeah we can probably count that. Welcome to the ‘part gay’ club man! You’re taking this really well, no offense.” Steve pat him on the back, the brief contact sending more sparks through his veins.

“Yeah, in 1985 I’d probably be doing something destructive right about now.” Eddie agreed. “But the me of 1987 can’t really muster up the energy for another panic attack after finding out about inter-dimensional portals or. You know. Everything else that happened.” Wow, real smooth Eddie, way to kill the mood of whatever fever dream was happening right now.

“Besides,” he tried for a joke. “1987 Eddie has a high school diploma. My brain’s so full of facts there’s no more room for anything else unless we shove it into my mouth and—“ His eyes widened as he caught up with what he was saying. He ducked to hide behind his hair. “Uh, what I mean was, um. Yeah I’ve got nothing to say for that.”

Steve gave another adorable snort and walked closer. “We may have to work our way up to that one, but maybe I could give your mouth something else to put its lips around instead?”

“Dude that doesn’t even—what, do you want me to vacuum seal your mouth with mine? How would we, wait, please tell me that isn’t the secret move you pulled that had all the cheerleaders in school losing their minds over?” Eddie squeaked out.

Steve blushed again even as he laughed. “First of all I only ever actually dated like, three people in high school, I wasn’t as big a slut as rumors made me out to be. And okay that might have sounded better in my head, but in my defense I kind of can’t think of anything but kissing you right now.”

Eddie rapidly nodded his head. “Yes, that’s. We should do that. Please.” After a slight roadblock in which both of them on autopilot tried to take the lead and grab the other’s face, they finally managed to actually press their lips against each other.

And oh. Oh. 

Look, this was far from Eddie’s first kiss. But this was the first time someone still wanted to kiss after seeing him eat eggs with maple syrup on them. Or who knew he secretly slept with his childhood stuffed animal. Because Steve wasn’t angling to get cheaper weed, or trying to get back at his parents by having Eddie knock on the door in his ripped jeans for a date.

Steve knew Eddie’s whole sordid history, and kissed him anyway, holy shit.

The kiss itself was short and relatively chaste. But after they stopped, Steve didn’t immediately lean out of Eddie’s space. Instead he gave the tip of Eddie’s nose a quick peck before resting their foreheads together. A giggle bubbled up out of Eddie’s chest.

Steve rapped his knuckles on Eddie’s head. “Everything okay up there?”

“You like me. Steeeeve Harringtonnn likes me!” Steve smiled softly at him as he cupped Eddie’s cheek in his palm.

“Yeah, I do, you big dork. And I’d love to continue this, but because someone sprayed whipped cream onto my junk, I need to go shower it off before it gets even crunchier because wow, this is uncomfortable.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that again. But if you want maybe uh, maybe I could join you and actually help clean it off?”

Steve smirked. “I think we can work something out, yeah. Come on.”

Running up the stairs while Steve tightly held his hand, Eddie decided that perhaps this time, his brain might have had the right idea after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening:

Eddie: "Wait, I was flirting with you the entire Spring Break from hell wasn't I."

Steve: "That was point #1 on Robin's 'Eddie is into you' list."

Eddie: "In hindsight this does explain why she kept saying I could be myself around her last week. I used the opportunity to give her a 2 hour long intro to metal music lesson."

Steve: "Yeah, she said I still owe her for that."

@augustjustice @stellarspecter Come get your fast burn Steddie!

[yanderelionwrites]

Under Our Care (Yandere!Bakusquad x Reader)

This is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: After you sustained a severe leg injury from hero work, the Bakusquad took it upon themselves to take care of you until you feel better. ...Except you've been locked away for months now, and you desperately want out.

Content Warning: yandere, drugging, post-kidnapping, mentioned forced feeding, punishments, being electrocuted, non-consensual touching and kissing, breaking bones

Word Count: 8.5k

(Note: Reader has a specific quirk in this)

The delicious smell of curry wafts into your nose as it sits in front of you on the table, though that hardly encourages you to eat it. All you could do was pick at it, taking little nibbles here and there to appease the two men who were watching you. You just couldn’t eat when you know what’s been done to your food.

“Will you just eat it already? ‘M tired of watching you mess around,” the blond, Bakugo, states gruffly, setting his fork down with more force than he intended. He hates the way you flinch, but continues anyway. “You’re going over there no matter what, so you might as well just get the hard part over with.”

You’ve been doing this routine every other week, but that didn’t make this any easier. You knew once you ate and inevitably fell asleep, you’d wake up in another glorified prison and be stuck with the Three Stooges, aka Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero, for the next two weeks. You loathe when it’s their turn to “take care of you”.

A calloused but gentle hand rests on top of yours. Lifting your head, you make eye contact with the other man who is at the table, Kirishima. He gives you a soft smile, but there is a pleading look in his eyes.

“Please eat for us, (Name). I’m sure you don’t want Bakugo to feed you again like he did last time, so please…” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “Eat up, okay?”

You shudder as you remember that experience. Bakugo had grown impatient when you were being particularly stubborn and refusing to eat the sedative-laced food. He had forced your jaw open with such a bruising grip, and then shoveled everything into your mouth until the entire plate was clean. Your hands instinctively reach up to your face as you could practically feel the ghost of his rough fingers on your jaw. 

Your contempt-filled eyes dart over to Bakugo. He only glares back, and you almost thought he was going to reenact that fiasco when he stands up from his seat. Instead, he picks up his and Kirishima’s empty plates and puts them in the sink.

You weren’t about to test whether or not he really would do that again, so you reluctantly began to finish your meal. It had gone cold, but it was still incredibly tasty. You’d never admit it, knowing that it would only go to his head, but Bakugo was the best cook out of all your captors. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy his food to the fullest, not anymore at least.

The drugs quickly work into your system, causing you to feel drowsy and ready to fall asleep any second. By the time Bakugo and Kirishima were done with the dishes, you were passed out on the couch. Your last moments of consciousness were spent being carried by Kirishima towards the front door, Sero’s car waiting out front to pick you up.

It felt like forever ago when the seven of you were all friends, but an odd obsession with you in particular had festered within them. It grew and grew as the years went on, blowing out of control and landing you in the mess you’re in now.

You liked to reminisce about your high school days, back when you were all still in U.A. Back when they acted like normal, sane people. They were so much fun to be around, and you felt like you could unapologetically be yourself with them. Eijiro always made you feel safe and comfortable, and your heart would fill with such warmth whenever he promised he would protect you. Kyoka was level-headed and looked out for you, her laid-back personality always able to calm you down. Hanta was the same way, and you knew you could rely on him for anything. Mina and Denki would always make you laugh, their goofy and upbeat attitude able to cheer you up on the toughest days. Even Katsuki’s presence comforted you, his gruff personality never able to hide the fact that he truly did care about his friends.

Maybe you just never noticed the red flags that arose the more you grew closer to them. Denki and Mina’s lingering touches, Eijiro and Katsuki’s overprotectiveness, the fact that they were always vying for your time and insisting you hang out with them… While it was overwhelming sometimes, their clingy behavior never bothered you too much; you thought it was sweet that they cared for you as much as they did. It wasn’t until they tried to get in the way of your aspirations and goals, was when you started to drift apart. 

All you wanted was to start as a sidekick, somewhere new and fresh, far away from Musutafu. Somewhere that was far away from them. They did not take the news very well, but they reluctantly let you go off and follow your dream.

Someone is trying to poke you awake, but you aren’t ready to open your eyes just yet. … It isn’t until you feel a pair of wet lips make contact with your own, was when your eyes snap open. You scramble to sit up and push the offender away from you, wincing in the process when you put too much pressure on your leg. You glare at the one who had kissed you, and not to your surprise, it was Kaminari. It took everything in you not to slap that stupid sly grin off his face.

“See, you guys? I knew that kiss would wake our Sleeping Beauty up!” He simpers, picking himself up off the floor.

Sero returns from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand and an unamused look on his face. “Yeah, and look what happened. I told you it wasn’t a good idea.” 

“Yeah, what the heck, Kaminari? I wanted to be the one to wake them up!” Ashido gripes, leaning over you from behind the couch.

Sero’s expression softens when he looks at you, saying, “Sorry about the rude awakening, hun. Are you thirsty? Here, drink some water.”

He hands you the glass, which you carefully took, sipping on the liquid until it disappears. Kaminari tries to sit next to you, but you scoot as far away from him as possible on the couch. The blond continues to draw closer to you anyway. 

“Man, I’ve missed seeing your gorgeous face, honeypie,” he sighs, a hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You flinch, but Kaminari doesn’t seem to notice. “I really wish we could keep you here for longer. Two weeks just isn’t enough.”

“If Bakugo heard you say that, he’d throw a fit,” Sero says, chuckling. He takes your empty cup and puts it in the sink.

“Right? Remember when we suggested monthly intervals? He shut that down so fast, it was kind of hilarious,” Ashido says, sitting on the couch’s armrest so she could pull you into her embrace. “You’re just so cute, (Name), you drive us crazy like that!”

They were talking about the supposed agreement the six of them had made before kidnapping you. Since they all didn’t live together, they came up with a plan to “rotate” you between their three different homes. You’d stay at one place for two weeks before being moved to the next group, having to be sedated before each move to make things “easier”. Sero, Kaminari, and Ashido shared a fairly nice, high-rise apartment in the city, a major contrast to Jiro’s suburban home and Bakugo and Kirishima’s house in the mountains. They were all comfortable places to stay, but that didn’t matter much when you were confined there under lock and key. Their security was unmatched, making it almost impossible to escape.

Ashido’s hold tightens, and you whine in discomfort, tugging on her arm to let you go. She didn’t, of course, only pouting and pulling you in closer. It was times like these when you wish you could use your quirk, but the electronic cuffs on your wrists prevent you from doing so. They wouldn’t be this touchy without them then.

“How come you’re so quiet today? Bakugo didn’t do anything mean to you, did he?” she asks, petting your hair.

“No, I’m just…tired,” you say lamely, fingers running over the restraints. Tired from the drugs still wearing off as well as being passed around from place to place like a toy.

“In that case, maybe you should take a nap,” Sero suggests, moving to pull you away from Ashido, but she only puffs out her cheeks and cuddles you even closer.

“What? But they just got here! We were gonna do a bunch of fun stuff together!”

“Yeah!” Kaminari chimes in. “Who wants to take a boring nap when you could be hanging out with us, (Name)!”

“We shouldn’t strain them too much,” Sero chided the two, who were clinging on to you for dear life. “They still haven’t fully healed from their accident, so they need as much rest as they can get. You want them to feel better, don’t you?”

Kaminari and Ashido share a guilty look, though if they were being honest, they would say no, they don’t want you to get better. They like having you rely on them, too exhausted or in pain to push them away. It makes them feel like you actually need them. But they release you anyway, knowing they had all of this week and next to cuddle and play with you to their heart’s content.

You move to stand up from the couch, but Sero stops you, taking you into his arms instead. He always insisted on carrying you to and fro, even though you could walk just fine. He said it was so you wouldn’t risk hurting your leg anymore, but really it was just an excuse to hold you close, away from the others. He was no better than Kaminari and Ashido, but at least he could understand when you needed space.

Sero sets you down in your bed, in the bedroom the three had pitched in to decorate to make you feel “at home”. It was nothing but an eyesore; you could definitely tell who decorated what as their design choices heavily clash with each other’s. If you were still friends with them and weren’t being held against your will, you would find it comical. But now you can’t help but hate having to sleep here.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.” Sero tucks you in under the covers. Kissing you on the forehead, he wishes you sweet dreams before turning the lights off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sigh in relief when he was finally gone. It was rare to have time to yourself these days; it seemed like someone was always breathing down your shoulder. Pushing back the blankets, you kick your legs out so they are hanging over the side of the bed, stretching your arms out at the same time until you hear a satisfying pop in your shoulders. Your hand came to rest over the knee brace that was strapped to your right leg, causing you to frown.

You had injured it real bad about five months ago while on the job. It was during an important mission, one that the agency you worked at had been preparing for for weeks. They had teamed up with heroes all over the country for it, and your old friends just so happened to be part of the agencies that were asked to help. You hadn’t seen them in forever until that point, not since graduation before you moved away. They were overjoyed to see you again, but you felt awkward and kept your distance. You were only working together because that’s what your job called for. You needed to remain professional and not let past events distract you from performing at your best.

The mission went awry fast. The building you were in was collapsing, heavy rubble and debris falling around you without any mercy. Loud blasts bounced off the walls as you ran to find an exit, just narrowly missing the chunks of concrete dropping from above you. You were almost out, as you could see Kirishima up ahead, who was helping everyone else evacuate. Escape was just within reach.

That was, until, you heard a particularly deafening blast that sounded too close for comfort. The last thing you remember was Kirishima, or maybe it was Bakugo, shouting, “(Name)! Watch out!”

 It was explained to you later, when you woke up in the hospital, that you had been crushed by the falling debris. Luckily, you didn’t sustain any fatal injuries, but the accident cost you the functionality of your right leg. It took a long while for it to heal, and even now, you’re not supposed to be straining it too much. After being released, you took a break from hero work for a while, your boss insisting that you don’t push yourself too hard. 

You never got to return to your job, however, because Bakugo and his group stole you away before you could even realize what had happened.

Standing up from the bed, you dig around in the desk’s drawer, pulling out a small metal tool you had pocketed some time ago. You supposed that’s what the breaking point for them was. Seeing you in such bad shape was like a switch went off in them, and they decided to kidnap you the minute you left the hospital.

Sitting back down on the bed, you get to work with the little tool. It was wishful thinking, but you thought you would be able to pry the cuffs off by sticking the tool into the seam where they locked. Then you would be one step closer to escaping this prison.

You were so preoccupied with the task at hand, you didn’t notice that the door to your bedroom was being unlocked. Light floods into the room, causing you to panic as you quickly chuck the metal tool to the floor. You fumble with the covers, trying to get back under them and pretend you were asleep, but you just aren’t fast enough.

Kaminari was the one who had opened the door, coming in to check on you. He gives you a quizzical look, eyebrow raising as he takes in your flustered state. Walking over to where you had thrown the tool, he picks it up to inspect it. His lips form into a sad smile and there’s hurt evident in his eyes.

“Naughty (Name). Were you trying to escape? I thought we were past this,” Kaminari says, waggling the tool between his fingers. He stuffs it into his pocket before continuing, “Don’t we make you happy? Don’t we take such good care of you?”

You scoff at that and give the blond your nastiest glare, uttering, “Happy? You can’t be serious. How could I be happy when I’m being forced to stay with you all? If you really cared about me, you’d let me leave.”

“That’s not true! It’s because we care about you is why we’re doing this,” Kaminari’s voice raised, but returned to a calm tone when he saw you flinch. “Look, it’s not that we don’t think you’re an awesome hero and can handle your own, but we were super sad when you moved away after graduation. Without a word, no less! And when we finally got to see you again, it felt like you wanted nothing to do with us…” His gaze trailed down to your knee, and he perked up. “But then the perfect opportunity to rekindle our relationship came! You got hurt and you needed capable and responsible caretakers to make sure you returned to being in perfect health!”

“Yeah, and I’m basically completely healed now, so there’s no reason to keep me here,” you pointed out, but Kaminari shook his head.

“You’re still in pain. We just got you back and we can’t risk you getting hurt again.”

There was no point in arguing. You’ve lost count of how many times this conversation has been had. As frustrating as it was, it always ended up going in circles. You know that the real reason was more than just wanting to protect you. They wanted to keep you for themselves. To claim you as theirs.

Kaminari comes over to pet you on the head, which only results in you smacking his hand away. He retorts by grabbing your wrist, making sure his grip is firm so you can’t pull away. You try to yank against his hold even though you know it was useless, glowering up at the man. 

“Let go, Kaminari. Just let me get back to my nap.”

“For someone who’s about to be punished, I’d be more careful with the attitude.”

Before you could process his words, a sharp, white hot burning sensation zaps through you. You cry out in pain as it feels like you were being pierced all over your body, and you beg Kaminari to stop. It only lasts for a few seconds, but it felt like hours had gone by when he finally lets go. 

The door slams open then, a concerned and frantic Sero and Ashido rushing in to survey the scene. It doesn’t take long to realize what had happened, and the two immediately come over to either side of you to help you calm down. Ashido glares at Kaminari as she pulls you into her chest.

“Kaminari, you always go too far with your punishments! You don’t have to shock them so badly!”

Sero rubs your back, giving the blond an exasperated look. “Seriously, dude, you need to hold back sometimes.”

“They were trying to escape! Look-“ Kaminari pulls out the metal tool you were using before and shows it to them. “They were trying to break their cuffs off with this. Not that it had any chance of working, but still!”

A wave of disappointment instills in Sero and Ashido, upset that you would want to get away from them. They could discuss this matter later, though. Right now, they need to make sure you are okay.

Kaminari sighs after a few beats of silence, nothing but your sniffles filling the room. He scratches the back of his neck, saying, “Sorry, (Name). I shouldn’t have used that much force. But I want you to understand that we’re doing what we know is best for you.”

They’re such hypocrites, all of them. How can they say they only want to protect you when they think punishing you is the right thing? When all you want is to be free? You can’t even look at them, not caring for what half-assed apologies they have to say.

The only thing that has your attention now are the flickering lights on your quirk-canceling cuffs. It was as if they too were affected by the electric shock, and any more voltage would cause them to malfunction. You stare at the cuffs in wonder, tuning out what the others were saying until Bakugo’s name was mentioned.

“Should we tell Bakugo about this? You know how he likes to be kept in the loop about any escape attempts,” Kaminari says.

Sero glances over at you, looking into your wide, pleading eyes. The last thing you want is to deal with an angry Bakugo yelling at you for the hundredth time. And frankly, Sero doesn’t want that either, because he would get an earful too.

“Nah, it’s not that big of a deal,” Sero sighs. “We’ll just have to keep a closer eye on them.”

“You must be hungry, huh, (Name)?” Ashido cooes. “That’s why you’re feeling antsy, right? Well, lucky for you, dinner’s ready! Let’s go eat!”

She lifts you to your feet and drags you out the door, Kaminari and Sero following right behind. You can hardly focus on the aroma coming from the kitchen or what they are even babbling about, though. No, the only thing on your mind is concocting a plan on how to get out of here. How to get away from all of them. And you have an inkling of an idea where to start.

* * *

Two grueling weeks went by and they were nothing short of insufferable. You’ve been pulled and poked and squished and smooched more times than you could count, and by the end of it all, you were exhausted. You actually felt relieved when you succumbed to the drug-induced slumber after you ate the meal they prepared for you. The next time you would see them again would only be in about a month, which was just enough time to prepare for your escape plan.

You’d be spending the next couple of weeks at Jiro’s place, a nice little home just on the outskirts of the inner city. You found her to be the most tolerable out of the gang,

as she was fairly laid-back and not super clingy. You did still have to be chained up for most of your time there, since Jiro lived alone and there was no one to watch over you while she was at work, but she made sure the chain was long enough for you to walk around the room and use the bathroom. She refused to use security cameras, saying that you deserved at least some semblance of privacy, though the rest of the house’s security was top-notch. 

Jiro is accommodating, but a captor is still a captor.

“I was thinking of getting takeout for dinner tonight. What are you in the mood for?” the young hero asks, fluffing up the pillows to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be in the bed you are shackled to.

You shrug, muttering, “Anything’s fine.”

It’s an apathetic response, one that you are used to giving by now. Jiro wishes you would show at least a little more enthusiasm these days; she remembers how big and bright your smile used to be, how contagious your laugh was. But she knows that what they’ve done to you is unforgivable and it would take a long while for you to come around and see why it was better this way. You just need more time to warm up to them.

Jiro pats your head and urges you to lie down, which you do so begrudgingly. She heads towards the door to leave, but stops when she remembers something, saying, “Oh yeah! I finished writing that new song I’ve been working on, and I want you to be the first one to hear it. How ‘bout I play it for you when I get back?”

“Sure. Can’t wait.” You give her the best smile you could muster, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Jiro’s grin droops at the lackluster response, nodding and closing your bedroom door behind her. You used to love hearing her play, the way you would stare at her in awe as she made the sweetest melodies with her instruments never failed to give her butterflies. You praised her when she was finished, insisting that she play more for you. You’re so amazing, Kyouka! Do you mind playing it again for me? Jiro was always happy to comply, wanting to keep that adorable look on your face.

Sometimes she wondered if this really was the right move, if keeping you here with them was for your own good.

But then the image of you in the hospital bed would appear in her mind; you looked so damaged and vulnerable, it scared her to see you in such a state. Jiro, along with the others, decided that they never wanted to see you in such pain again.

You remain in bed until you are sure Jiro has left the house, the sound of the multiple locks on the door being shut confirming you are now truly alone. Being mindful of your leg while hopping out of bed, you waste no time in raiding the bathroom for supplies. 

You only take what you consider strictly essential. There were enough of the items stocked that Jiro wouldn’t notice they were missing, so you take as much as you could get away with. You stuff them into the small bag you were allowed to bring with you to and from their different homes, organizing it all so it would fit nicely in there. There is a small stash of money in there too, cash you had stolen from Kaminari and Ashido’s wallets. You hadn’t taken a lot, so you didn’t think they would even realize it was gone.

The next thing you pack is a change of clothes. Jiro primarily bought you casual and comfortable clothes to wear, a contrast to the cutesy and tight clothing Ashido, Kaminari, and Bakugo insisted you wear while you stayed with them. You stuff a few pieces of clothing in your bag before zipping it up and stowing it away. You wish you could bring more, but there is only so much you can fit in there without raising suspicion.

You return to your bed, the clanking of metal against the bedpost grating against your ears. The escape plan you had been brewing since Kaminari’s punishment plays on repeat in your head, and you mentally check off the boxes on your to-do list. You feel exhausted even though you barely moved around, so you took this chance to get some sleep while the desire of freedom dances around in your mind.

* * *

You sit crushed between the two massive men who are watching your favorite TV show with you, though you can hardly focus on what is happening on screen. It feels like Bakugo and Kirishima are trying to become one with you, cuddling you so close, you barely have any room to breathe. Whenever you try to move or push against them, they just hold on tighter. 

Looks like you are going to have to play the leg card.

You pretend to hiss in pain, as if one of them had hit your knee with too much force. The two immediately turn their attention towards you, concern written over their faces.

“Sorry! Are you okay, sweetheart? Are you in pain?” Kirishima worriedly asks, removing himself from you to scan over your body. 

You sit up and shake your head, relieved that they finally let go. “No, it’s fine. My leg just hurt for a second.”

“We should get ready for bed, anyway,” Bakugo says, turning off the TV. “It’s getting late.”

Of course, “late” is really just 9 PM, but you don’t feel like arguing. As much as you hate it, what Bakugo says goes. If he says it’s bedtime, it’s bedtime.

You weren’t granted your own bedroom in Bakugo and Kirishima’s house like you were in the others’. The three of you share one massive room, with one giant bed that fits all of you comfortably. Well, comfortably for them. You hate being spooned by them while you’re just trying to sleep.

Already dressed in your pajamas, you sit on the bed and wait for the two men to be done brushing their teeth. Your eyes drift to your bag that is slumped against the wall, and you are so grateful that they never bother to check what’s in there. Usually, you just brought books and comfort items with you, since they provided everything else you might need at each of their homes. You had to sacrifice that stuff, however, in favor of being able to fit your essentials in there.

There isn’t much escape preparation to do while you stay with Bakugo and Kirishima. There are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like you can steal their cash or pack supplies without being caught. The only thing you can do is wait until these two weeks are up and pretend like everything is normal. You have to behave well enough in order to not get punished, but not too well, or they’d get suspicious of your sudden change of heart.

You roll over to the farthest side of the bed, eliciting an annoyed huff from Bakugo. You know you’re supposed to sleep in the middle, so he doesn’t get why you insist on playing this game every night.

He grabs hold of your waist and tugs, trying to get you to move over. You don’t budge, though, hands gripping onto the side of the mattress for dear life. You groan, kicking at Bakugo to make him let go.

“Ugh, Bakugo, just let me sleep here for the night! Canoodle with Kirishima for a change,” you mutter, feeling your grip loosen.

“Stop being so stubborn! C’mon, do you really have to do this every time?” The blond yanks you back to be in the middle of the bed, his arms wrapping around you so you can’t move away again.

Kirishima lies down on the other side, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek in an attempt to calm your struggling. He says in a low and tired voice, “Let’s go to sleep now, baby. It’s been a long day and I’m sure you’re just as tired as we are.”

You can’t stand the way they look at you, as if they just see a weak and helpless child that needs to be taken care of. You are just as competent as them, dammit! One injury doesn’t change anything.

As you finally settle down for the night and your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you think about how they used to treat you back in U.A. They had always thought of you as weak, didn’t they? It was the whole reason you decided to distance yourself from them in the first place.

The bed is already empty by the time you woke up, meaning Kirishima and Bakugo must have both gone to work today. Which means…

Sure enough, a metal cuff was clasped around your ankle and locked to the bedpost. You sigh, giving a useless tug against the chain before letting your leg fall back down onto the mattress. Looks like you’ll be stuck in bed for the rest of the day, at least until the two come home.

You feel so powerless. So…pathetic, like you were proving everything they thought about you right. You’re not some house pet they can keep to themselves; you have a life to get back to. There’s so much you haven’t accomplished yet, and you aren’t going to let them make any more decisions for you. 

You’ll escape during your next visit to Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido’s place. No matter what.

* * *

You can barely process what’s playing on the TV as your leg bounces up and down while you sit on the couch. You mentally rehearse the escape plan you’ve been brewing for weeks in your head, today being a better time than ever to act. Sero and Ashido both left for work this morning, leaving just you and Kaminari alone for the day. All you have to do is piss him off enough for him to shock you and cause your cuffs to malfunction.

A small, black box is thrust in your face, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyes follow up the arm holding the box only to be met with an ecstatic and dopey smile on Kaminari’s face. 

“Look, buttercup! I gotcha something!” He plops down next to you, so close your shoulders are touching, and places the box in your lap. “Go ahead and open it up!”

Tentatively, you flip open the lid, revealing a gorgeous gold necklace with a black pendant. It sparkles in the light and looks like it cost quite a pretty penny, however, such an expensive gift did little to impress you. Kaminari was always trying to win you over with lavish presents and commodities, but materialistic things could not distract you from what you really wanted.

“Wow, Kaminari. It’s really…something, but you know I’m not a jewelry person,” you say, handing the necklace back to him.

He frowns, clearly upset that you would refuse a gift from him. He pushes the necklace back into your hands, saying, “But I had it specially made for you! I know it’ll look so pretty, just put it on!”

You are getting annoyed now, but then it hits you. This is the perfect opportunity to make Kaminari punish you. You just have to push the right buttons.

“I said I don’t want it, so just drop it already!” you shout, throwing the necklace back at him.

Kaminari bristles at the way you raise your voice. “Well, somebody’s in a bad mood today. Most people would say thank you, ya know.” He moves to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “What’s wrong, buttercup?”

You smack him away, standing up from the couch. “Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so irritating, I can’t help but want to rip my own ears off! Or maybe it’s because I’m being held here against my will, surrounded by people, who I thought were supposed to be my friends, treating me like I’m some weakling who can’t take care of themselves!”

“We’ve already been over this, (Name),” he sighs, exasperated. “Can’t you just let us care for you? That’s all we really want to do!”

“No, all you guys want is to keep me for yourselves. You have this twisted obsession with me and what you’re doing is unforgivable!”

“Stop that! It’s not twisted! It’s…we just…love you, (Name). Don’t you love us too?”

You scoff and give Kaminari a look of utter disdain as you spit your next words, “I hate it here, and I hate all of you.”

A mixture of hurt, anger, and guilt flash across Kaminari’s face, but you don’t feel bad for him. He’s silent for a moment as he stands in front of you, head cast down and fists balled at his side.

“You…you don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because you’re mad,” he murmurs. Looking up to meet your eyes, Kaminari shoots a glare at you, electricity starting to spark around his hands. A warning. 

“Take it back,” he says with force, taking a step towards you.

You back up out of habit and you can feel yourself trembling, but you know the incoming pain will be worth it in the end. All that was left was the final blow.

“No, I won’t. I can’t take back the truth.”

Fast as lightning, Kaminari grabs hold of your arm, and you shut your eyes tight in nervous anticipation. The same searing sensation you felt last time runs through your body as he releases his volts. You cry out as your muscles contract, and you feel like you are on fire, but you fight through the pain.

You must have really pissed Kaminari off, because he doesn’t let up until you are nearing unconsciousness. When he finally releases you, you gasp as you fall back onto the couch. Sucking in deep breaths, you weakly check your wrists, heart fluttering in excitement and nervous relief to see that the quirk-canceling cuffs are fizzing out. The lights slowly fade out and an unlocking mechanism can be heard from within. You rejoice at how free your wrists feel when they finally come undone.

“...Oh- Oh shit- No, WAIT-” Kaminari panics at seeing your restraints come loose, and he was about to release another shock before you can get back up, but you are too fast. With the remaining strength you have, you leap towards Kaminari, planting your hand right on his bare arm.

“You know what? You’re right.” You smirk as you remember his earlier words. “Thank you, Kaminari. Really.”

You activate your quirk, cutting the man’s response off. Your head feels light and you shut your eyes tight, a dizzying yet exhilarating feeling running through your veins. When you open your eyes, you are standing in Kaminari’s place, your own body now slumped on the floor.

Possession. That is the name of the quirk you’ve worked so hard to develop and strengthen over the years. Once you touch someone’s bare skin with your hands, you can possess their body for exactly ten minutes, and they’ll have no memory of what happened during that time. Unfortunately, your own body falls unconscious while you’re possessing someone.

It feels good to use your quirk again, and even better when you can no longer feel any pain in your leg. You can put as much pressure as you want on it; such a shame this feeling will only last for a few minutes.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you get straight to work. You disable all the security measures in the apartment by using Kaminari’s face and fingerprint scans. Then you dig around in his wallet and room for any spare cash he has lying around so you can store it along with the money you’ve been saving up until now. 

You know better than to take his credit card. It’d be like a direct beam to your location if you were to use it, so you leave it be.

You throw your backpack onto the couch next to where your body lies, and your eyes land on the forgotten necklace you had initially refused. Picking it up, you turn it around in your hands, thumb rubbing the pendant absentmindedly. I wonder how much I can sell this for, you think, deciding to keep it in case you need some extra cash.

With everything packed and ready to go, you checked the time. Four minutes left.

It takes a few minutes for the person you possess to wake up after you return to your body, but you need to tie Kaminari up to give you more of a head start. You chain him to his own bed, using the restraints they had no problem using on you whenever you “misbehaved”.

Tapping your foot against the floor, you watch the last remaining seconds tick by, waiting for your consciousness to return to your own body and finally escape this nightmare.

* * *

“Denki! Wake the hell up already!”

“H-Huh?” Kaminari woke up with a start, jerking his head side to side to assess his surroundings. “Wha- What happened? Why am I…chained up?” he slurs.

Sero pinches the bridge of his nose; he can already feel his patience running thin. But before he can get another word out, Ashido interjects.

“Where are they, Denki?! They’re- (Name)’s not here! They’re gone, where did they go?!” She’s hysterical, shaking the blond’s shoulders as tears threaten to trickle down her cheeks.

“Wait…what? (Name)’s…missing? But-” Then it comes back to him. The necklace. Your outburst. His punishment. The cuffs coming off. 

Shit…shit, SHIT!

“No, no, they escaped!” Kaminari shouts, yanking against the chains. “I- Fuck, it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have punished them like that!”

Sero bends down to release Kaminari from the bedpost, sighing. “Well, it’s too late to feel sorry. We need to find them immediately.”

“Oh, (Name),” Ashido sniffles. “What were they thinking? They could injure themselves again!”

“We won’t let that happen,” Sero reassures her, and he pulls out his phone to call Bakugo, Kirishima, and Jiro. “They couldn’t have gotten far. With all of us looking for them, they have no chance.”

The other three get to their apartment in a matter of minutes once the situation was explained. As expected, Bakugo is severely pissed off.

“YOU IDIOT!” he yells, grabbing Kaminari by the collar. “Of course they would escape under your supervision! Why the fuck would you ever shock them that hard in the first place? Think before ya act, moron!”

“Chill, Bakugo!” Kirishima says, pulling his friend back. “There’s no use in getting upset and arguing about it!”

“Kirishima’s right,” Jiro butts in, arms folding across her chest. “We need to come up with a plan and start searching for them, before it’s too late.”

Bakugo glares at them, before huffing and letting Kaminari go. “Their leg’s still out of shape, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find ‘em and bring ‘em back here. We should split up and-”

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Kaminari interrupts, pulling out his phone. “I think I’ve got a surefire way of finding where they could be.”

* * *

Keep moving. Don’t stop. 

You’ve just gotta keep going until you feel secure enough to rest somewhere. Once you’re a few cities away, you’ll consider hunkering down in some shabby hotel.

Skyscrapers and apartment buildings whiz past you as you blankly stare out the train’s window. You clutch your bag to your chest as your leg bounces up and down, all a feeble attempt to calm your racing heart. It’s been a whole hour since you escaped, and you are sure the entire squad was out looking for you by now. You can only imagine how angry they must be… How angry they will be when- no, if they find you.

Going to the police was out of the option. Who would believe the top heroes of the country have been holding someone hostage for the past five months? Besides, there was a chance the squad called ahead and made up some lie that would work in their favor.

Seeking help from family was a no-go too. Get them involved and they could be hurt or worse. Your only option is to just keep running.

You get off after another hour or so, as you are getting tired and need a place to stay for the night. Exiting the train, your leg dully throbs, but that’s the least of your worries. Now, it’s about deciding on what inconspicuous hotel would keep you safe.

The place you go with is a ways off from the main road, with a large forest surrounding it. The hotel looks slightly rundown, but it would have to do. You are given a room on the first floor, and upon entering it, you let out a silent sigh of relief at seeing it wasn’t a complete mess inside.

After drawing the blinds, you flop down on the bed, completely exhausted. You would like to take a well-deserved nap, but the anxiety of being caught won’t let you. You can only stare at the stained popcorn ceiling and listen to the rattling of the air conditioner.

A knock at the door breaks you out of your thoughts.

Somehow, you already know who it is without even having to check.

“Oi! (Name)! Get out here!”

You can’t even bring yourself to stand up, only being able to stare at the wooden door that separates you from the six of them.

Shit, how did they get here so fast? They couldn’t have known you’d come to this specific hotel… Have they been following you this whole time? Just toying with you… Making you think you actually had a chance at escaping?

“Bakugo, shut up! I’m trying to listen,” another voice says, this one sounding like Jiro. “…It’s definitely them in there. I can hear their breathing.”

“It’ll be okay, sweetie, we’re coming to get you!” That was Ashido. “Stand back, I’m gonna melt the door down!”

You spring up in a panic, whirling around to find another exit. You won’t let yourself be captured so soon. You haven’t even been out for a whole day yet!

Ripping the blinds open, you survey your surroundings, seeing nothing but forestry out the window. The thought of running through the unstable and root-covered ground made your leg throb, but did you really have any other choice? It’s either risking more injury to yourself or continuing to be the Bakusquad’s darling captive.

You know which is the better option.

Snapping off the window lock, you hop out of the hotel room and make a sprint towards the woods. Maybe if you run far enough and in different directions, you can shake them off your trail. Running hurts more than anything, but you refuse to let up. The distant sounds of explosions make you pump your legs and arms harder.

Jiro stops right at the forest’s edge, plugging her ear jacks into the ground. The others stop and wait with baited breath as she listens intently. She can hear your footsteps pounding against the ground, the crunching of the leaves and twigs under your feet, down to your labored breaths. With all of this, she can pinpoint exactly where you are.

“They went this way,” Jiro says, pointing in your direction with confidence and determination swirling in her gaze.

Without a second to spare, the six of them speed off to pursue you. Ashido slides over the ground using her acid, Sero uses the trees to his advantage to swing through them with his tape, Bakugo keeps up with his blasts propelling him through the air, and Kaminari, Kirishima, and Jiro continue on foot. Getting you back is the one thing on their mind. They will never let you slip away again.

You jump over a root sticking out of the ground, keeping your pace all the while. You ignore their calls for you as you leap over a small stream. Don’t look back. Just keep going.

Sero’s tape whizzes past you and you flinch, stepping out of the way so you don’t get caught in it. Shit, they’re already in range? You’re not sure your injured leg can take much more strain.

To your left, the faint sound of Ashido and her acid moving her rapidly through the forest hits your ears. She desperately calls out to you, saying, “(Name), stop! You’ll hurt yourself if you keep running!”

Kirishima’s voice sounds farther away, but you can still hear him loud and clear. “She’s right! We just want you to be safe!”

Yeah, right. Their pleads go ignored as you make a sharp turn and change directions. Safe, my ass. They’re the ones actively chasing me through the woods.

You reach a steep ledge then, with no other way around but to climb down. Not even giving it a second thought, you drop to the ground and carefully place one foot on a sturdy enough rock. You’re making good progress going down, and you’re pretty sure you even shook off your pursuers for the time being. Everything is going all well and good, until…

Your foot slips.

Unable to regain your hold on the rock, you fall the rest of the way down, your back crashing hard to the ground. You internally panic as your vision grows blurry, and everything eventually fades to black.

* * *

You awake to someone petting your hair and whispering something you couldn’t quite make out. Tufts of pink hair let you know it was Ashido, and you realize that you’re now sitting in her lap while the both of you are leaning against a tree. You try to move away from her, but find that you’ve been restrained by Sero’s tape. It completely wrapped around your torso, tying your arms in a way you wouldn’t be able to use them.

“Ah, guys! They’re up!” Ashido exclaims, drawing the attention of your other five captors. Kaminari immediately drops to your side to pull you into a hug.

“Shit, you had me worried sick, babe! You’ve got a real knack for giving other people heart attacks, you know that?” He cries, his tears soaking your shoulder.

Sero and Jiro kneel down to gently pry Kaminari off of you, before hugging you themselves.

“You can’t just run off like that, (Name). Are you trying to permanently damage your leg?” Sero lightly scolds.

“We’re just happy we were able to find you quickly. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t,” Jiro says.

“...How did you find me so fast? I chose the most random hotel… How’d you know I was there?” you ask, almost afraid to know the answer.

Kaminari pulls out his phone, showing you an app displaying a map of the city. A red dot was blinking where the hotel was located.

A tracker.

“After that escape attempt you had a while back, I got paranoid and made sure that necklace I gave you doubled as a tracking device.” He grins and ruffles your hair. “You said you didn’t want it, but ended up taking it with you anyway. Good thing, too.”

No…  All I had to do was just leave that stupid necklace behind and I might have been free by now?! 

You want to scream. To break out of your bindings and throw Kaminari off of that ledge. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair! Why do they get to be happy while you suffer under their controlling and suffocating behavior?

Kirishima notices the dark look in your eyes, the absolute hatred that’s coursing through your veins. He extends a tentative hand out to touch your shoulder, asking, “(Name)… Are you okay?”

“OF COURSE I’M FUCKING NOT!” you snap, baring your teeth at the redhead. He retracts his hand, hurt flashing over his features. You continue your outburst.

“I am so sick and tired of all your guys’ bullshit! You are all INSANE and need help if you actually think keeping me trapped in your homes is going to help me get better! It’s doing the opposite and making me feel WORSE. So if you really care about me, love me, and want to see me actually happy, I suggest you forget you ever knew me and let. Me. Go.”

Everyone is silent for a moment while you catch your breath. You think you put at least some sense into their heads, until Kirishima spoke up again.

“You know… I think about your accident every single day,” he starts, fists clenched. “Do you know how horrifying it was to watch you be crushed? I just can’t get over it… You were right in front of me, but I still couldn’t save you in time. Even now, I couldn’t stop you from running away and falling off a cliff.” He pauses to make direct eye contact with you. “I need you with me, (Name). What if the next accident is fatal? What will I do then? I can’t live without you. None of us can.”

You want to spit at that shitty reasoning, but Bakugo piping up drew your attention towards him.

“From now on, we won’t let your clumsy ass out of our sight. I’ll make sure of it,” the blond grunted, kneeling down and grabbing hold of your left leg. The one that’s still completely functional.

You try to kick him away and squirm out of his grip, but Ashido and Kaminari tighten their hold on you. “Wha-What are you doing?” Kirishima, Sero, and Jiro grimace at the fear in your voice.

All it takes is a clean snap of the bone for you to lose all hope of freedom.

You scream in agony, bile stinging your throat from the way your leg now bends at an unnatural angle. The others’ hushed words of reassurance do nothing to comfort you as Bakugo stands up. His expression almost appears pained, but he is not regretful.

“It’ll heal, as long as you don’t do any more stupid things. We’ll just have to care for you all over again.” He motioned for Kirishima to pick you up and start bringing you back to their home.

And the intense pain coursing through your body almost had you looking forward to their care.

[bloatedandalone04]

No One Else

➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.

Warnings: this man is such a dom i swear, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, swearing, pda, jealous a.j., alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A.J. hated house parties. He would much rather go out to the club or a bar as he felt like the parties he threw at his apartment got too crowded too quickly.

But he was doing this for you.

About three months ago A.J. asked you to move in with him. He loved you more than anything else and he wanted you around him all the time, and you felt the same way. You agreed and moved out of your small loft and into his massive condo across the city.

While you were used to the city life, you were a bit overwhelmed since he was in the middle of it all. It was loud and chaotic whenever you opened the sliding door of the balcony, and the lights kept you up at night. You didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to give A.J. any ideas, but it wasn’t long until he discovered your distaste for this side of the city.

It was a big difference to where you lived previously, and he felt guilty about the sudden change. 

So he offered to move away from all of it, to give up the city life he had been living in for around twelve years for a cute and modern house in a neighborhood just outside the city. 

He let you have full control over pretty much everything in the house; from the appliances in the kitchen to the paint color in the living room. A.J. gave you his credit card and told you to go crazy, and you really took his words and ran with them.

You bought countless pieces of furniture and when they arrived at the home, A.J. spent a good day and a half building them with Jake. 

Now, a full week after settling into the new place, you decided to throw a house party to really break it in. 

The house was a lot bigger than his apartment, so it wasn’t as crowded, but he still hated having so many people in his personal space. But A.J. knew it was all worth it when he caught your eye from across the living room and saw the way your lips turned upwards into a happy smile.

He really would do anything for you without an ounce of hesitation. 

A.J. crossed the room after wrapping up his conversation with Jesse, and his hands found their home on your waist as he stood behind you. He knew you were smiling as you listened to the story Rachel was telling you, and that smile only grew when he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“You two are so cute, seriously,” Rachel beamed, finishing off her drink with a smile. “I can confidently say you were made for each other.”

“Just like you and Jake,” came your sweet reply and A.J. felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards as you sipped on your wine. 

“Speaking of,” he trailed off, lifting his head and looking around the packed room. “Where is your fiancé, Rach?”

Rachel furrowed her brows as she, too, looked around the room. “I’m not sure, actually,” she answered. “Let me know if you find him, and let me know if he looks like he’s had too much to drink. If he’s plastered, tell him he’s sleeping on the couch when we get home.”

A.J. laughed as he kissed the side of your neck before moving away from you. “Will do,” 

“Come find me later,” you requested in a soft voice, smiling at him afterwards. “I shouldn’t miss you this much in our own house.”

A.J. held back a groan as he moved towards you again and firmly gripped your jaw, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. You grin against his lips and tangle your free hand in his hair, his lack of hat tonight making it very easy. “Damn, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away and you ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. “You make a guy not want to leave.”

You grin at him and shrug. “Hurry back, Jay,” 

He bit his lip as he nodded and turned to go seek out his best friend. He found Jake in the kitchen talking to John, and they both looked like they were on the verge of being wasted. “A.J.! Hey, buddy!” Jake greeted as the tattooed man entered the room. “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Yeah, man, I like how secluded it is,” John added as he looked around the room. “You buy it with that two million we snagged from those transport trucks?” He asked loudly and A.J. had to deliver a quick slap to his shoulder to stop John from exposing the source of his income to all his new neighbors. 

And there were a lot of them. 

The neighborhood you were now living in was well populated, and you had taken it upon yourself to invite all of them to the party in hopes to get to know them. A.J. wasn’t very fond of strangers in his house, but it was just another thing he forced himself to deal with since he was so in love with you. 

“Keep your voice down,” A.J. muttered as John gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, man,” he laughed. “Your new neighbors were very generous with their housewarming gifts.” John held up the bottle of champagne with a bow tied around it, and A.J. just shook his head. 

“Just try not to tell the guests all our secrets, yeah?” 

John nodded and gave him a salute before wandering off towards the dining room where Gordon was. “A.J., buddy, I never thought I’d see you get out of the city, man,” Jake said as he leaned against the counter with a beer in his hand. 

“You and me both,” he murmured as he took the half empty bottle from Jake.

“The things we do for the women we love, huh?” Jake asked as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table. 

“Speaking of, Rachel told me that if I saw you and you were drunk, I have to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch,” A.J. informed the tipsy man, who just laughed. 

“She might say that, but she can’t sleep without me, man, I’m like her personal pillow,”

A.J. shook his head and set the bottle on top of the fridge, knowing damn well that Jake could easily reach it. “Good thing she’s marrying you then,”

“Hey, when are you and your girl getting married?” Jake asked as he grabbed a handful of chips and ate them all at once. “You’ve been together about as long as Rachel and I have, when are you gonna ask her the question?”

“I don’t know, man,” A.J. answered as he avoided the crumbs flying out of Jake’s mouth with each word he said. “Soon.”

“You have the ring, don’t you?”

A.J. nodded and Jake grabbed one of the cookies off the dessert plate on the table. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the right time,” 

Jake leaned back just as Rachel entered the kitchen and made her way over to the two guys. “Don’t wait too long, buddy,” he advised as Rachel moved to stand next to him. “Putting a ring on this one’s finger was the best decision I ever made.” He wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist as he smiled up at her. 

Rachel laughed as she draped her arm around Jake’s shoulders. “You’re planning on proposing?” She asked with excitement lacing her voice. “Do it soon, then Y/n/n and I can be engaged at the same time. Ooh, maybe a double wedding!”

A.J. shook his head with a smile as he looked towards the doorway, expecting to see you enter at any second since Rachel was now in here. When you didn’t, he glanced at your best friend and asked, “Where is she, anyway? You leave her to get lost in her own house?”

Rachel playfully rolled her eyes. “No, I was just making sure this guy was behaving,” she nudged Jake, who just continued smiling up at her. “Last I saw her, she was talking to the next door neighbor who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night.”

A.J.’s smile faded at that and he left the kitchen without saying another word. Rachel and Jake’s conversation faded into the background as he entered the living room again, and instead of finding you where he left you by the sliding door, you were by the couch and talking to some dark haired guy. 

While he knew he had no reason at all to be jealous, seeing as this was his own fucking living room he shared with you, A.J. still didn’t like seeing you around guys who clearly just wanted to sleep with you.

And this guy did a very bad job at hiding the fact that he wanted to fuck you. 

A.J. made his way over to you, receiving a slap on his shoulder from Jesse as he did so. You wanted him to find you later, and he was more than ready to take you up on that offer now. 

Your eyes drifted from the brunet and met A.J.’s, and a smile formed on your lips, instantly replacing the barely hidden look of boredom on your face.

The guy probably thought you were smiling at him, but A.J. sorted him out pretty quickly as he stepped around the stranger and wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side and he didn’t even bother glancing at the guy’s face before he was pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. 

You return it immediately and lean into his touch when he lifts his free hand up to grip your jaw and angle your head, and you willingly give him full control of the kiss. He slowly pulls away and smirks at the way you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds before he looks over at the guy, who did not look happy at all. “New friend, baby?” He asked, making you open your eyes and look over as well. 

“Um, this is….Dean?” You question and A.J. held back a laugh at the offended look Dean gave you. “He’s our new neighbor, Jay.”

“Nice to meet you,” A.J. said and ignored Dean’s outstretched hand as he turned back to you and leaned in close. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” He asked under his breath as Dean stood awkwardly next to him. 

Your eyes widen and you let out a startled laugh. “A.J,” you gasp quietly and look over at your neighbor with a blush.

A.J. glanced over at him, too, before beginning to pull you towards the half-bath next to the hallway that led to yours and his room. You feebly waved at Dean as A.J. made a show of guiding you into the bathroom, a smug smirk on his lips when he saw Dean’s glare. 

Once he entered the bathroom as well, he closed the door and locked it before pushing you up against it. “I gotta say, baby,” he murmured as his hands pulled up the black material of your dress. “I’m not a big fan of our new neighbors.”

You lean your head back against the door as he bunches your dress around your hips and teased your clit through the thin material of your panties. “Why? Not friendly enough?” 

A.J. grunted as he pushed the lace material down your legs and let it drop to the tiled floor. “They’re too friendly,” he answered as he picked you up and set you down on the marbled countertop. 

You squeal at the cold surface against your burning skin and cling onto his shoulders. “Fuck, A.J.,” you mumble and tug at his suspenders. “What’s gotten into you? You were fine when you left to go find Jake.”

He would never admit that he was jealous of that prick in his living room, so he shrugged and kissed along your shoulders. “Nothings gotten into me,” he said under his breath. “But hopefully I can get into you.”

You moan loudly, despite being able to clearly hear the party guests outside the door. “Well, when you say it like that,” you tease and drop your hands to the button on his dress pants. “But we have to be quick, Jay. We’re hosting right now.”

“Fuck them,” he rasped as he reached his hand in between your bodies and sunk his index and middle fingers into your heat. “Fuck everyone out there, baby. We’re in our house. I should take you back out there and fuck you right on that couch.” 

You moan at his dirty words and run your hands through his hair, successfully making it messy. No one else got that privilege as he usually spent a good ten minutes doing his hair - just to throw a hat over it, but he would happily let you mess it up whenever you wanted. “You’d actually do it, too,” 

A.J. smirked at you as he worked you open with his fingers. “I would,” he agreed as he looked down. “You’re dripping, baby. Did the teaser I gave you in front of Dean turn you on that much?”

“That and you,” came your muffled answer as you buried your face against the side of his neck. “Are you really going to fuck me in the bathroom at a party?”

“Yes,” he answered as you unzipped his pants. “Unless you feel like waiting until everyone leaves and I can fuck you all over the house. Fair warning, though, I don’t think this party is dying any time soon.”

You moan and lift your head. “Get to it, then,” you murmur and pull him free. A.J. presses his lips to yours at the same time he enters you with a single thrust, and the feeling has you grasping onto his shirt tightly. “Fuck. Is this how you did it in the Ivy League? Fucking random girls in bathrooms during parties?”

“Had to practice somehow. And you’re not just a random girl,” he said back and you laughed before moaning rather loudly as he began to roughly fuck into you. You slap one hand over your mouth with wide eyes and he smirks. “Can’t be quiet, huh, baby?”

You shake your head as you lean back against the mirror. “No,” you agree and tug on his hair with your other hand. “I can’t be quiet when it comes to you, Jay. You make me feel so good.”

A.J. groaned when you clenched around him, and he knew he wasn’t much better. One of the perks of living in an actual house and not an apartment, was that you and he could be as loud as you wanted. 

Not that the thin walls of your last apartment stopped you from being loud. You’d received countless noise complaints, and they all were ignored by A.J., who just fucked you harder until the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust.  

It was like how he was fucking into you now. 

Your body moved further and further back on the counter until you had to place your hand flat against the marble, accidentally knocking over the bottle of soap in the process and making it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” you gasped as his hips rocked into yours. 

A.J. grunted and kept one hand on your hip while his other reached up to grip the side of your face. “God, you’re tight,” he rasped, making you smirk as you wrap your legs tighter around him. 

The smirk was promptly wiped from your face as he began roughly slamming into you, loud moans emitting from your mouth with each thrust. “Oh, my God,” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands bunching up his shirt tightly. “Fuck yes, Jay.”

A.J. groaned and pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue poking out and parting your lips, coating them in a layer of his spit. “Feel good, princess?” He teasingly asked and you nod uncontrollably. 

“Feels so good,” you answer, clinging onto him as you feel your release approaching embarrassingly fast. “So fucking good.”

He grunted, kissing all over your neck as you squeezed him over and over again. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, reaching behind you to pull on your hair. 

You squeal a bit, hiking your body closer to his as you hear the sounds of the party-goers right outside the door. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warned loudly, no longer caring about the guests hearing you at this point. 

“Already?” He mocked, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “You needed me just as badly as I needed you, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your body involuntarily bucking forward to meet his thrusts. “Oh, my fucking God, yes, please please please.”

A.J. gripped your waist in both hands, his still clothed thighs hitting the backs of yours as you moaned loudly in the surprisingly big half-bath. 

You grip his back and pull his chest against yours as you feel your release take over. “Oh, God,” you cried out as you clamped impossibly tight around him. “I’m coming.”

A.J. cursed under his breath as he felt your walls pulse around him before a warmth took him over. “There you go, baby. Give it to me,” he muttered, and your whines increased in volume. “Good girl.” He praised, kissing the skin under your ear as you writhed against him. 

“Are you…” you trailed off as you slumped against his chest, his hips still lazily rocking into yours. “Are you gonna come, too?”

A.J. let out a surprised moan at your dirty question and how sweetly you asked it. He leaned in and kissed you hard, using his hand to angle your head so he had better access to your mouth. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “I want it so bad.”

His eyes shut tightly as he buried his face against the side of your neck. “I’ll come for you,” he promised, feeling his stomach tighten with each slow thrust he gave. “I always will.”

You whine and pull him impossibly close as he came hard, his hips fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as he groaned loudly. 

When he pulls away, you smile shyly at him as you smooth out his shirt with  a quiet laugh. “Is it all out of your system now?”

“Is what all out of my system?” He asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. “My unhealthy need to fuck you all over our new house? No, that won’t be out of my system for quite a while.”

You laugh then bite your lip as he pulls out of you, then he reaches down to run two fingers through your sensitive core. He collects his release onto his digits before lifting his hand again, and you lean in to wrap your mouth around them, hearing him grunt deeply as you clean himself off his fingers. “Tasty,” you smirk once you pull away. 

A.J. had to hold off on taking you right then and there as he felt himself grow a bit hard again. Instead, he cleaned you up, smoothed out your outfit and finished it off with a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back out there?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t be surprised when we get some dirty looks, because I think every single person out there knows what we did in here.”

You shrug, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Who cares? It’s our house,” you point out and pull open the door. “Do me a favor and don’t fix your hair, okay?”

Then you were walking out of the bathroom, leaving A.J. to look at himself in the mirror with a laugh as he took notice of his post-sex hair. If it wasn’t obvious enough what you and he just got finished doing, his messy hair will definitely get the message across. 

And that was exactly why he left it as it is before following after you.

[teezersfics]

Money, Revenge & Sex ~ Choi San

“Oh, and my name is San, in case you need to moan.”

♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡

Warnings : Pirate-Cowboy!Dom!San, Cowgirl!sub!reader, unprotected sex, little mention of abuse. Plot at the beginning and the end, mostly plot based. Plot-twist(?), no proof read.

Word count : 3.1 k

I hope you like the...........plot?!?!??!? 😬

Sitting at one of the stools at the tavern, you are scanning the crowd, trying to find the most anticipated faces. The Pirate King and His Crew, one of the most deadly pirates to exist in the present world. Who were rumoured to be on the shore of Puerto Escondido, (Mexico), around this week, for a secret mission, and, you suspect, what can it be.

Lord Antonio, the most popular and wealthy dealer of South Mexico, asked ATEEZ, a Pirate group consisting of the most deadliest crew in this world, for help, to gain power over the southern ports of Mexico. He asked for this favour some years ago. By providing some of the best types of products from all over the world to Mexico, by eliminating all the cunning Mayor's of the towns alongside the southern coast, to bring him the control of those towns. Initially, Antonio's intention of gaining the power was to provide good amenities to the people of the coast, avoid them from facing assaults and loots from other pirates, etc.

But, as time passed, Antonio grew greedy for more and more money. He started keeping all the money eventually, growing his domination over the ports and trades happening in South Mexico. When the news reached the Government, they sent the Navy to gain back control, and execute Antonio. But, with all the power he had, he fooled the Navy, and killed many Navy officers. He crushed all of the attempts of the Navy and the government.

There was a deal, happened between ATEEZ and Antonio, that whenever ATEEZ pays a visit to Mexico, Antonio will pay them 1/4th of the profit he gained every month. But, he broke the deal, only paying for the first two months, later on he pretended to be busy, to have gone somewhere, tried to hide and what not. When ATEEZ heard all the news about how much Antonio has turned the tables with his promises and declarations, and how much serious crimes he committed, that he had a big bounty on his head and also an execution order.

It's been two years since Antonio has been deceiving many, including ATEEZ. Because of non-frequent visits at Mexico, it was not possible to carry out the execution mission of Antonio sooner, but now was the time. And that is why they are here, in the Tavern, disguised as some of the local Mexican men, so that to fool Antonio's men from recognising them. Well, this plan was secret, but one of the men of Antonio, sailing in sea for fishing, saw Destiny(ATEEZ's ship) from far, letting their men know that ATEEZ were here.

The vibe of the tavern party, is something that you adore with your heart. The whole tavern is filled with melodic voices of Vihuela, Accordion, Trumpet, and other instruments. People having glasses of tequila and beer in their hands above their heads, bodies grooving to the music, the dim lighting in the Tavern coming from few of the candles and oil lamps here and there. But, your eyes are trained on one particular person.

A man, buff, wearing only a piece of black jacket, with fringes attached to it, flowing independently on his torso, studs decorating the linings of the jacket. The jacket, doing bare minimum to hide his upper body. You wonder why did he even wore the jacket for? Wearing tight leather pants underneath, a Black cowboy hat on his head, completing his look. A black scarf around his neck and mouth, making it hard for everyone to see his face. But, the way his eyes are just so inviting, so captivating. It's like a Maelstrom is sucking a ship inside of it, and the crew can do nothing but see helplessly, getting sucked in. Especially, his TITS. More distracting than his eyes. The way his fringe jacket is doing nothing to cover his chest. As if he is just showing, he ‘tried’ to cover up, but well…….

The fact that you can actually tell he is Pirate. As a dealer yourself, you've had quite the experience dealing with pirates. And, pirates can be easily recognised by the sword wounds, types of tattoos, their build, rough-torn hands scratched by the splinters of the heavy ropes that they heave, and more other things.

Basically, you figured it out that pirates are already here, blending in with the crowd, wearing Mexican costumes and accessories to blend in with the crowd, mostly covering their faces. The way they are swaying to the music, as if they are pre celebrating their revenge victory over Antonio.

As, they are grooving to the music, you can't help but continuously scan him, the way his body moves to the music, the way his muscles flexes when he raise his hands up in joy. You can't help but feel the need to touch that body of his. Also, the tequila you had, slowly has started to kick in your nerves, making your grow more bolder and risk everything just to have a chance with him. Chugging down the last sip of your tequila, you join the dance.

Without wasting time, you get straight to the point, dancing a little too close to him, almost all over him. But in a way your back facing him. It doesn't takes long for him to study your moves and spins you around by your arm almost making you collide with his chest, his hands goes straight to your lower back, holding you while without wasting time your hands are on his chest, finally feeling the contours of his buff chest. So round and heavy in your hands that you forget dancing for a moment. But his hands on your back, helps you get back to the beat, moving you along the music. Without anything else in your mind, you start dancing, moving your body along with him. It was as if you were not following the rhythm, but you were following him, following the way his body moved.

Your hands were all over his torso, but not for much. Your hands were itching to go lower and sooner you were tugging on his pants and belt. Caressing his upper thighs. He got the hint and finally he spoke, mouth over your ear, even though he was wearing mask, you could still feel the warmth.

“Tu nombre, bonita?” (your name, pretty?) He asked.

It was quiet funny because he was purposefully speaking in Spanish to keep his disguise on. But, you just laugh at it.

“You are good at Spanish.”

His brows are furrowed, not quiet getting what you meant.

“Ofcourse, because I live here!”

You roll your eyes, you get that they have a mission, but it's still funny for you. Also, letting him know that you know him is dangerous move, because he is Pirate after all, he can kill you right away if you slip.

Eventually, his hands starts getting lower, now on your hips. Your bodies a literally pressed together. Oh, how bad you wanna take that scarf off his face. He literally smelled like tequila, some intoxicating herb, and sweat. He was taking over your mind.

‘If I don't get fucked by thus man right now, I might go more Feral.’ Thus was your thought process at the moment and you unknowingly grind forward on him. It was as if your body decided to do it on it's own. Not sure if he'd like it or not, String of ‘Sorry's’ come out of your mouth. But, his grip remains firm on you.

Rather, he buries his head in crook of your neck. He whispered,

“Seems like, you will make me do, what I am not supposed to right now.”

Goosebumps all over your body, you exactly knows what he means. But, you want him to do, exactly what he is not supposed to. So, you swirl your hands more on hiUs body, especially his tits, and you feel how his nippels perks up in some seconds. It's the limit for him.

Holding your wrist he drags out out of party. One of his men see him, stopping him to whisper something in his ear.

“What are you doing? It's not the time.” He says.

“Don't worry, I'll be right back.” He assures the other man with a wink.

He takes you to one of the storage rooms, at the back of the Tavern.

As soon as he closes the door, he wastes no time in pinning you to the door, taking his scarf off and kissing you. Open mouth from the start, he was so desperate to have his mouth on you. So rough that, you were constantly falling out of breathe. His both hands cupping your cheeks, shoving his head in yours. Tongues inside each others mouths. But you pull him away because you didn't get the chance to see him properly.

You were already drowned in his eyes, but now that you see his full face you are mesmerised. You are seeing such a handsome pirate for the first time. The moles on his face, sharp features, the scar on his lips is like the cherry on top. (Imagine Toji's scar)

You don't wait to kiss the scar on his lips, slowly, licking it, he is surprised but soon takes control, biting on your lower lip again and again, now hands on your hips, massaging them, which brings out a moan from you.

“Fuck, your moans are so pretty. Can't wait to hear you moan my name.”

“Then tell me what's your name.” You cock an eyebrow at him. But, it can't beat the perfect smirk on his face.

He drags you to one of the tables in the room, bending you immediately. His hands work on your long skirt, pulling it down along with your panties. You are shocked by his speed. You wanted to get fucked so badly, but he was more into this business than you. While at the same time you removed your shirt. But, as his hand comes to your clit, a long sigh leaves your mouth. Making your legs shiver. It's been a long, very long time. He rubs on your clit, later getting to your folds. He is surprised.

“Oh look, how wet you are already.” You can hear the squelching sound from his rubbing on your folds. But, your legs are not wide enough for him. So he spreads your legs with his own, making your entrance easier for access.

“Hmm, that's more like it.”

He enters one of his finger in your hole, getting a yelp from you. His finger just continues to enter you more and more. You saw his fingers were long, but they feel longer inside you. When he starts thrusting his single finger inside you, it's already numbing your head. You lay your head on the table, cheek flat on the surface.

“Oh fuck-” is all you can say.

“It's just the start, bonita.” He says sliding in another finger. You moan, the feeling is too amazing that you bang your fist on the table. You back was arching, giving him the best angle. He comes down to reach your ear.

“You are a mess, just on my finger. What will happen when you take my dick?” He chuckles right over your ear, sending goosebumps right to your pussy. But, it was a mind blowing feeling when he started scissoring inside of you, as if your pussy would explode anytime with pleasure.

You can hear the sound of the shuffling, he unbuckles his pants, removing them halfway down. Palming his cock through his boxers, he throws his head back, with the thought that next minute his cock will be inside you. He is getting you ready to take him, thrusting his fingers harder on you. It almost feels as if you'd come on his fingers already. But his motion stops. Finally removing his boxers, he strokes his hard dick, spreading his pre cum all over his length.

He spreads his both fingers that are still inside you, making your hole wider, which makes you scream in both pain and pleasure. He rubs his cock on your folds, using your wetness as lube. It's already too much for you. He comes down to you again, to whisper in your ear.

“Oh, and my name is San, in case you need to moan.”

He goes back again, now slowly pushing his cock in. You can hear him sigh loudly.

“Gosh, one of the tightest pussy I've had in a while.” This had you already clenching around him.

After a moment he starts moving. “Fuck San. You- you are too big.”

His thrusts are shallow at first, but sooner he starts gaining momentum. He starts ramming into you and all you could do is grip the table for your dear life. If this keeps going on, the table is gonna leave scratch marks on your stomach. You can hear him groan from behind.

“Ah, San….San fu- fuck.”

“You enjoy getting fucked like this, don't you.” He scoffs. He knew the power he held on you. The loud noises of skins slapping on each other, the squelching sound of your pussy, his groans everything was so overwhelming. You turn your head a slightest bit to get a view of him, and oh! The way his chest is fully covered in sweat, his hairs sticking to his temple because of sweat, droopy eyes. Oh! How much you wished that you kissed him right now and roamed your hands in his hairs. This position was amazing but you wished it was more convenient, also, your legs can give out at any second. He seemed to have noticed that.

“Is this position causing you trouble baby?” He whispers in your ear.

“You wanna see me better? Wanna see how I fuck you?”

All you could do is nod.

“Very well! Then let's switch. You will stand up for me, right baby?”

Nodding, he removes himself from you and you sigh at the feeling of emptiness. But standing up you face him and the next thing you know he lifts you up by your hips and sets you on the table.

Spreading your legs wide by his large hands, he lines up his cock on your clit. Pecking you quickly on the lips he said.

“Let's get this done. Okay?”

He enters you again and your head falls in the crook of his neck. It's just you are not used to his size. The most beautiful man you have ever fucked. How much you wished he stayed around for much more or you could get to see him more. The sudden urge to mark him yours raised and so you started leaving hickeys on his neck and chest as he pounded in you.

But, when he unexpectedly traced the long scar on your torso, it made you visibly flinch. Something that you considered as your biggest flaw.

“A scar, this long, as if you were scraped by a sword.”

“Hmph, yeah. It was a sword.”

“Who would do this to such a beautiful lady like you.”

You take a deep breath.

“M- My father.”

“Why?”

“Be- because I am doing my w- work by going against him. So he tried to kill me because, he- he thinks I am his competition.”

“How insecure he can be. But, it's okay baby, no one can hurt you when I am here.”

The way he speaks, it makes you cling more to him, to rely on him. He is a complete stranger with no business in your pain, but he still assures to protect you. Now is the time. You can tell him what you want to, right at this moment. This can be, he can be your chance of fleeing away from here. And so you finally say it.

“S- San, I know where the key is- the key to Antonio's grand safe.”

He couldn't believe his ears that he stopped his movements.

“What are you saying?” He is purely confused.

“I know you are from ATEEZ, and I know you are here to revenge Antonio.”

He shaked his head, still believing this was fake.

“This fuck so good, I am hallucinating.” He said, trying to make sense of the situation.

“No San, I will help you get to the safe and locate Antonio.”

“Why?”

“Because I want justice too and wanna flee away from here.”

He scrunched his eyebrows, not knowing which question would get him all of the answers he needed to know. So he asked.

“How do you know about all this? Who are you?”

“Because, I am Antonio's daughter.”

The room is dead silent. His grip tightening on your waist. You just wish this doesn't go downhill. But, when he starts to move again, you yelp sudden thrust. His head in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him smile.

“I decided to fuck right women, I guess?” He scoffed. The way all of the weight from your shoulder vanished.

“If I didn't approached you, this moment would have never happened.” You reply to him, and he laughs.

He slowly increases his speed, coming to the climax. His thrusts are fast and deep, trying to reach as far as possible into you. This had you moaning loudly, into his ear, moaning his name, which is driving him more crazy.

“Shit- San, I am close.”

“Do it, cum for me.”

After few more thrusts, you both hit your climax, cumming into you, he hit a few more thrusts to ride out both of your highs. Removing himself from you, he gets dressing shortly while you lay back on the table, exhausted from the sex.

After he is dressed, he helps you get dressed, shocking you, because you didn't expect him to help you. You thought he would rather ask for the key and Antonio, and get back to his team. He notices you expression.

“What? Don't you wanna get ready, we have a mission.”

‘We’, oh! How you hope this ‘We’ remains forever.

Later, that night, they were able to get the key with your help, and get back all of their money. The remaining money, that neither ATEEZ owned nor Antonio, they rained that money upon the town at the dawn which rightfully belonged to towns’ people, later capturing Antonio, tying him up, and throwing him in middle of town's Square, letting people decide his fate, which they did by beating him up, submitting him to the government, leading to his public execution. No matter how bad he treated you, he was still your father, you still felt bad. But now you had nothing you can call yours in the town, and San knew it. He offered you to join Destiny, Ateez's crew, and you accepted.

You are standing in front of the ship and the man you are going to spend the rest of your life with, him, offering you a hand to step on the ship, him and his crew, Welcoming you aboard, to start a new life.

[jintaka-hane]

Oh hello 😊😊

Sooo your “Kiss your blorbo” event… it’a great idea 😍😍

Can I ask a kiss from my beloved doctor Hongo, with “Are you gonna be my girl” from Jet as background music?

Send you lot of love 💖💖😘😘

[Masterlist] Kiss your blorbo on New Year’s Eve

HONGO

Summary: Hongo is far too discreet, and it’s starting to annoy you. At the New Year’s Eve party in the port, you decide to test him by making him jealous. Word count: 1100 Warning: xf!reader; fluff; kissing, some jealousy; sort of pre-established relationship All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

You giggle as you let him play with your hair. You’ve let him buy you another beer, and now he’s shamelessly flirting with you, throwing out compliments as he leans slightly closer. Midnight is approaching, and amidst the singing, dancing, and the strong smell of alcohol and food from the nearby stalls, you bat your lashes at the man you’re seemingly having fun with tonight.

But he’s not the one holding your full attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you’re keeping constant track of the doctor on your crew, cursing every time you realize he’s not looking your way, completely engrossed in chatting and drinking with Shanks and the others.

Hongo seems like the reserved type. Or at least, discreet when others are around. But behind closed doors when you’re in his bed, he’s anything but restrained with you.

What began between the two of you a few months ago as innocent, casual flirting gradually evolved into bold teasing and constant banter. The tension grew with each playful joke and every provocative, defiant look until one day, you grabbed him by his shirt and gave him what would be your first kiss, heated and hungry. But spending long periods confined together in the middle of the sea quickly made clandestine kisses no longer enough. Now, more nights than not, you find yourself tangled in his sheets, breathless, sweaty, and utterly spent.

By daylight, however, things change. The embraces of the night turn into brief exchanges of words. Your once-thirsty mouths become sidelong glances.

You were never looking for a relationship. You remember the moment you froze the first time his fingers brushed your shoulders while you were talking to Yassop, prompting him to pull back and avoid touching you again in front of others. Getting romantically involved with a crewmate would only cause problems, and the way you both keep your distance in public has conveniently helped you control your own feelings. Until now.

Tonight, you can’t stand how far away he is. You can’t stand how little he looks at you. You can’t stand those hands, shoved into his pockets, not resting on your waist. So, at the lively party the locals are throwing at the port to celebrate the new year, you do everything you can to make him jealous.

But it doesn’t seem to be working. Despite the man you’re humoring leaning closer and closer to you, your doctor stays wrapped up in laughter and conversations with the others.

Frustrated, you huff and take a sip of your drink as your admirer move his hand in an alarmingly intimate gesture to your chin and stroke it. You frown, smelling the alcohol on his breath, and before his lips can graze yours, you excuse yourself.

“I... uh... I need to go to the bathroom.”

Awkwardly and muttering curses under your breath, you stride away from the party, weaving through dancing couples and dodging people offering skewers of meat and beer. The music pounds in your ears, and all you can think about is getting away as fast as possible. But just as you’re about to escape the crowd, a strong hand catches your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to face him.

"I know what you're doing, and I don't like it," Hongo says harshly, looking at you with the same expression he would give to a nasty wound.

“Oh?” you say, surprised to see him but unable to contain your indignation. “Excuse me, sir, you’ve been watching me?” you ask, placing a hand on your chest.

“Doll, I’m always keeping an eye on you. I’d know if you had a headache even if you were on another ship.”

“Oh, yeah?” You yank your hand, but his grip on your wrist doesn’t loosen.

“Yeah.” He mimics you, giving your wrist a small tug, causing your chests to brush against each other. “I’d know if you caught a cold even from a thousand miles away.”

You look up at him, and your lips tremble for a moment. You part them to say something sharp, but before the words can leave your mouth, the crowd starts counting down to the new year.

“Ten, Nine, Eight!”

Taking a deep breath, you swallow hard and muster the courage to keep speaking.

“And my heart?" you ask, raising your voice so he can hear you over the cheers. "Would you know if it hurts right now?” You lock eyes with him.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

The way your pupils gleam in the colorful glow of the party lights makes him sigh and lean in a little closer to you.

“I know it does…” he whispers. “Just like mine.”

“Four! Three!”

Your heart drums in your chest, and your eyes close at the feeling of Hongo’s hand now tracing the line of your jaw.

“Two! One!”

You feel his nose brush against yours, and you when you tilt your head, his mouth claims yours in a heated and senseless kiss. Right there, in public, in front of everyone. He presses his lips firmly against yours, making your knees weak like only he knows how.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The crowd roars and cheers around you, throwing streamers and colorful confetti as fireworks explode in the sky. His fingers lace with yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You smile into his kiss and bring both hands to his cheeks, refusing to let him go. His laugh is muffled against your lips, but he doesn’t release you, leaning in even more to deepen the kiss. Then, in one final teasing move, you pull away, leaving him breathless and wanting more.

It takes him a couple of seconds to collect himself before he asks you the question he's been holding in.

“So… are you gonna be my girl?” he says, leaning in toward you again.

“Your girl?” you giggle, tilting your head and stopping him by placing a hand on his chest. “Like… officially and out in the open?”

He nods, toying with your fingers intertwined with his. “Yes, officially and out in the op—”

His words are cut off by your lips, capturing his in a long, deep kiss. Your hands trail up to the back of his shaved neck, and he hums in approval before you both pull back.

“Are we heading to your cabin?” you ask him, your cheeks warm and flushed.

“My cabin…” For a moment, you’ve disoriented him with your kiss, but he quickly recovers. “Oh, yes, absolutely, later… but for now,” he flashes that smile that always makes your heart melt, then grabs your hips and lifts you into the air, “let me show off my girlfriend!"

Merry Christmas, Laney <3

.............................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Imagine your first wash day at Joe's...

word count: 1.1k

a/n: JB9 taglist is now open, if you’d like to be on it comment 'tag me🏈’ and you’ll be added. If you want to be taken off at any point dm me -babe :)

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When you first started dating, Joe had only ever seen your hair in a protective style or wrapped in a scarf, granted you met in the summer so those were your safest options.

As time went on and you grew closer, you began to wear your hair out more which required much more work, so you left a mini hair care bag at his place. It only had a few essential items like a leave in, edge control, mini spray bottle, some hair oil and a pack of silk scrunchies. Since you spent the majority of the time at his place he believed that was all you needed to maintain your 4b/4c hair.

You moved in with him a month ago, and today is your long awaited and very much needed wash day. The weather in Cincinnati finally cooled down enough for you to let go of the braids, so you planned to do mini twists. You wanted to start as soon as possible, so when Joe left at 8 in the morning you gathered your bucket of haircare products and locked yourself in the bathroom.

♡ ♥︎ ♡

It was about noon when Coach Taylor let his players out, they had a game that Sunday so he didn't want to run them too ragged. Joe, Tee and Ja'Marr decided to grab a bite to eat before heading to Joe's to cool off.

The moment the 3 men enter your living room is the exact moment you remember that you may have neglected to tell your boyfriend of today's significance.

"Hey babe, we stopped by that place you liked so I brought you- woah." Joe looks wide eyed at the organized mess of different combs/brushes, gels and bottles of hair products with you in the center of it.

You nervously smile at the trio. "Hi." You quickly finish the twist you're on and pause the movie you're 'watching'.

"Are we interrupting something- ohhh yea mhm got it. Let's go, Tee." Ja'Marr says assessing the situation.

"Yo wait, can you do mine next? You know, when you get a chance." Tee asks.

"Man, she aint doing yo crusty ass fade. I'm definitely next."

"There ain't nothing wrong with my cut." The two wide receivers argue on the way out.

You chuckle before turning back to your boyfriend, "I may have forgot to tell you today's wash day." You say sheepishly.

"You think?" He shakes his head and takes a seat on the cleanest spot next to you. "This is a lot, when did you get all of this?"

"I've had it the whole time, most of it stays in the closet a majority of the time." You shrug moving around some of the products so he can stretch out. He gladly scoots in closer and analyses your work in progress.

You had just finished the back before they walked in, your hair is pretty thick and a decent length so washing it took about 2 hours. Then you decided to make your life easier by making the process harder and blowing out the entire thing, that took another hour.

"The line in the back is crooked, but its look pretty nice overall."

You immediately smacked his chest. "Joey, what the hell."

"What'd I do? Do you not want me to be honest?" You glared at him.

"You've been hanging out with Ja'Marr for too long."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your head, "baby you are the most talented, amazing and most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And you are doing an absolutely fantastic job on your hair."

"Much better, now let me wash my hands before I see if you actually got my order right." You teased.

"I know you better than I know myself Y/n, you need to stop doubting my 'boyfriend skills'."

While you're gone he couldn't help but look at every single product in his vicinity. Trying not to knock over any of the open bottles of oil, he spots a bright blue gel-cream and reaches for it.

"Doo Gro, well I am growing out my hair." His curiosity getting the best of him, he scoops some out of the jar and sniffs it for safety reasons. Unable to place the scent, he rubs it in his hands then rakes his hands through his hair.

"Joe, what are you doing?" He jumps at your voice, effectively knocking over your bag of combs.

"Shit, baby. What does it look like?" He says now cleaning the mess of combs, in shapes and sizes he'd never seen a day in his life.

"It looks like you wanna be a giant grease ball." You snort picking a handheld mirror off the floor and putting it in his face.

"Jesus, I didn't put that much in." The dollop he picked up had somehow multiplied and made it look like he'd meant to slick back his hair.

"Aww my poor greasy baby, I hope you rubbed it into your scalp as well." You said picking up your plate and shoving the food in your mouth.

"I think I got that covered, does this stuff wash out- Y/n baby calm down it's not going anywhere." He stares wide eyed at the plate that's been half eaten in mere seconds.

"I know, I just haven't eaten since like yesterday. It probably does, just not all of it. At least you'll get thicker hair out of this," You can't help the giggles coming out as you continue to look at your boyfriend's head.

"It's not that funny." He bites his bottom lip as his own start to take over.

"You look like the kids that cover themselves in vaseline and peanut butter." The room's completely filled with your laughter to the point that everything has been forgotten.

"If doing your hair has always been this fun, let me help all the time." He smiles as the laughter subsides.

You shake your head, "I'll let you wash it next time and we'll see if you still wanna be included. Even with your giant football arms, you'll be tapping out before we get to deep conditioning."

He smirks, "all I hear is that you like my arms."

You scoffed and gave him a good once-over, "oh I like more than your arms." Biting your lip, you sit yourself in his lap.

"Oh yea, tell me more." His eyes blazed with desire as your hands run up his arms and down his chest.

"I love how big you are, but you already knew that." You smirk.

"Fuck." He growls pulling your lips flush against his.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: inspired by my HS self making the fact that I learned to do my hair during quarantine and mastered mini twists enough for it to become my entire personality. she was very humbled when they became a trend lol, I still love them tho and my nephew who covered himself in vaseline not once but 3 times. :)